We're all probably familiar with today's Gospel reading, the story of the Prodigal Son. The son takes his inheritance from his father, squanders the fortune in lavish fashion, and comes home expecting a severe lecture from his father. Instead, the father is overcome with joy, rushing out to greet the son and to welcome him back into the family. This is what God is like, Jesus is telling us. God loves the lost.

Often overlooked in this parable is the story of the older brother, who labored faithfully at home while his younger brother rebelled. When the father embraces the lost boy, the older brother is incensed.

"For years I have slaved for you," the older son tells his father. "I never disobeyed one of your orders, yet you never gave me so much as a kid goat to celebrate with my friends. Then, when this son of yours returns after having gone through your property with loose women, you kill the fatted calf for him."

Is it possible to grow distant from God while obeying God? It would seem so, according to this parable. In a way we are told of two different ways of becoming alienated from God --- by running away and by following rules. The younger son runs away from his father, thinking that a richer life can be found away from the strictures of life with his father. The older son stays, and "never disobeyed one" of his father's orders, but ends up even further from his father, unable to celebrate the return of his own brother. How can this happen?

It's a good question to ask during this season of Lent, a season with more than its shares of "rules" in our church. We are challenged to avoid equating compliance with faith. Compliance with the rules and regulations of the church, attendance at rituals and participation in church activities do not in and of themselves constitute faith.

Faith involves a relationship with God --- the loving, joyful, compassionate God described for us in the parable of the Prodigal Son. A better test of faith than our attendance record for Sunday Mass is whether we ourselves are loving, joyful, compassionate people who like God are overjoyed rather than jealous when the lost are found.

I am prone to both forms of resistance --- at times I want nothing to do with the restrictive nature of Jesus' teaching. I want to take care of myself before reaching out to others. I don't always want to share my money, my possessions or my time with needy members of my community. And I rarely want to identify with the weak, the sick or the prisoners.

And then there are times when I feel very satisfied with a routine of church involvement, financial contributions and time volunteered for our parish and our school. In neither case am I engaged in prayer, Scripture, service and genuine community.

The good news for all of us is that God loves the lost --- whether we are lost in rebellion or in compliance. The father reaches out to both sons, eager for a relationship with each of them: "My Son," he tells the older son, "you are with me always." Apparently, the father felt that this is reward enough, and that was the chief loss of the younger son --- relationship with the father.

Bill Peatman writes from Napa.