Dad, I’m not at all sure I can follow you any longer in your simple Christian faith’ stated the clergyman’s son when he returned from the university for holidays with a fledgling scholar’s
assured arrogance. The father’s black eyes skewered his son, who was 'lost,' as C.S. Lewis put it
‘in the invincible ignorance of his intellect.’ ‘Son,’ the father said, ‘That is your freedom, your
terrible freedom.

Don't count on me to take you in because I'm angry. I'm angry at you for leading us on such a song and dance all these years, not just these few years but all the years, skipping all those holidays and staying away from beach trips and missing Mom and Dad's thirtieth anniversary and their thirty-fifth and Jeannie's baby and not attending my wedding that time or even sending a card or calling to wish me well. But most of all Denny, most of all: I will never forgive you for consuming every last little drop of our parents' attention and leaving nothing for the rest of us.

A radical is a prodigal son. For him, the world is a strange place whose contours have to be explored according to one's destiny. He may eventually return to the house of his elders, but the return is by choice, and not, as of those who stayed behind, of unblinking filial obedience.

The back door beckons to a prodigal son.

Ironically, it was the father's blessing that actually "financed" the prodigal son's trip away from the Father's face! and it was the son's new revelation of his poverty of heart that propelled him back into his Father's arms. Sometimes we use the very blessings that God gives us to finance our journey away from the centrality of Christ. It's very important that we return back to ground zero, to the ultimate eternal goal of abiding with the Father's in intimate communion. (pg. 243)

You never depart from us, but yet, only with difficulties do we return to You.