It leads to tepidness
September 26, 2026
A child came of age in conflict and irreconcilable differences with his parents. In such an environment, the siblings too had to take sides because of the belligerence of the parents and their ‘troublesome’ son.
In such a murky situation, children flee their home at the slightest opportunity to spare themselves the war of attrition. Who can bring the other person to heel, not heal, which, of course, is the need of the hour. In the fog of war, both sides are blindsided.
It is common in most families where family prayer is uncommon. More accurately, family prayer becomes uncommon as children grow up. They develop ‘passions’ parents cannot relate to and will not share with parents because not everything is above board.
The children who join the family prayer find merit in it. It is their time not only with God but with the family. A family is the only unit in the universe bound by blood to perpetuity. If not fractured by irreconcilable differences.
Outside of the evening prayer, the children are at work or at play. They are financially independent. They develop a “have money, will travel” attitude. Then, as God ordained, “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” (Gen 2:24). Now they are literally in another orbit.
Outside of a fractured family, the interaction with parents can become more intense, especially between a daughter and her mother, exchanging recipes and updates on what’s happening in the new family, perhaps with a child or two, until the young mother is no longer young and her children have begun to cleave to their spouses. The mother has grown short of hearing or sight and is living with one of her children or independently. The circle of life that keeps the universe together, and the family, until some star decides to flee the orbit.
This star, who had irreconcilable differences with his parents, found himself decoupled from the family, like a railway bogey, shunted into the yard, to rejoin another train based on the child’s vaunted destination.
The child had come of age. The parents were getting on in age. This particular situation of irreconcilable differences is often about inheritance and independence. Remember the Prodigal Son. He wanted out. (Lk 15: 11-32) Pops, he said, give me the property while I am young so that I can do something with the inheritance. He did do something with it. Ground it in the pigsty and came home with his tail between his legs.
The father, like God the Father, was merciful and waited for the day his son would come back to join the family prayer. There was some collateral damage. The elder son was furious.
What kind of dad is this? I do all the work; I get nothing. This good-for-nothing grinds his inheritance to nothingness, and the father has slain the fatted calf the elder son has been eyeing for a long time to party with his friends.
The inheritance-extinguishing son was feted and celebrated because he swallowed his pride, humbled himself, and came back. He knew where his home was. “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Mt 6:21)
The elder son never left his father’s side. He was risk-averse and fatted-calf obsessed. Remember Aaron and the golden calf.
When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain, they gathered around Aaron and said, “Come, make us gods who will go before us. As for this fellow Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don’t know what has happened to him.” Aaron answered them, “Take off the gold earrings that your wives, your sons and your daughters are wearing, and bring them to me.” So, all the people took off their earrings and brought them to Aaron. He took what they handed him and made it into an idol cast in the shape of a calf, fashioning it with a tool. Then they said, “These are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt.” (Exodus 32: 1-4)
The elder son had lost sight of God and His mercy. Tepidness reigned in his life. “So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.” (Rev 3:16)
The child who had come of age won the battle of attrition. He was given, I suspect, a portion of his inheritance to get him out of his parents’ hair. The child was happy. The parents were happy. The fatted-calf obsession. Each getting what they want.
The nice thing about it, like in any situation, is the pause in hostility. It gives each side space to go back to the drawing board and redraw the relationship, now gone sterile. Cannot bear fruit. But nature has a surprising way of bringing to life what had perished. The soursop tree in our garden is an example. So is the pepper tree.
Hope does burn eternal. Preserve the wick; the sapling. Don’t destroy. So, with the family. Whatever the turbulence. Pause helps. Reset, restart, fire it up. To glow, not to incinerate.
“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Relent, Lord! How long will it be? Have compassion on your servants. Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days. Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, for as many years as we have seen trouble. May your deeds be shown to your servants, your splendour to their children. May the favour of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us—yes, establish the work of our hands.” (Ps 90: 12-17)
- Mathew Anthony
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