Matthew 2.9-12

When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure-chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

We are acting out Jesus’ story of the Prodigal Son in Liverpool Cathedral for secondary school pupils.

Our prodigal is a migrant who has come to seek his fortune, but his money has run out, and his friends have deserted him. Now he’s on the streets and glad to eat a half-eaten take-away from a waste bin. I direct the students to walk past him, jeering. But one eleven-year-old refuses to obey me. “I don’t want to walk past him. I want to help him.”

“That’s not in the drama,” I tell him. But this brave boy, in front of all his friends laughing at him, kneels down beside the Prodigal and says: “Look, if you’re hungry I’ve brought some food my mum gave me for my lunch I can share.”

The parable is continuing to do its work.

What gifts you have to offer? What gifts you need to receive? What is the best – but hardest – thing to share?