Chapter 19
Mr. Bennet shifted in his pew, trying to focus his mind on Mr. Collins’s droning sermon.
He glanced around, noting he was not the only one who appeared bored with the interpretation of the familiar Bible passage the curate had chosen: the parable of the prodigal son.
Mercifully, Mr. Collins was coming to the end of the story wherein the older son confronts his father over the celebration he throws for his newly returned younger brother.
“‘And he answering said to his father, Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment: and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends: But as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots…’”
Did Mr. Collins seem to put particular emphasis on that word? It felt that way to Mr. Bennet.
“‘…thou hast killed for him the fatted calf.’”
Mr. Collins paused and let his eyes travel over his congregants before continuing with the father’s response.
Oh, get on with it, Mr. Bennet thought, shifting again in his seat. But Mr. Collins was clearly enjoying having all eyes upon him and making the most of the moment.
“‘And he said unto him, son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.’”
Mr. Collins paused again, tapping the Bible to let the story sink in before raising his head from the lectern.
“And what are we to learn from this story?” he asked the congregation.
No one spoke, for they knew the speaker was not truly wanting an opinion.
“Only this. That by disobeying your beloved family, you are rewarded. As you just heard, the younger son asks his father for his inheritance early—a scandalous, greedy act in itself—but then after he wastes his money on women of loose morals and unchaste living, he comes crawling home in disgrace. But instead of being punished, the son is given the fatted calf and the best robe! Indeed, it is clear that this is a parable of a lack of brotherly love. For had the younger son truly loved his older brother, he would not have sought to rise above his station. He would have been content laboring in the fields alongside him, and not have his life plunge into ruination. Let us all remember this when tempted by the devil to desire more than what the good Lord has already given us.”
Mr. Collins soundly closed the Bible and with a final nod at the congregation, took his seat next to Mr. Yarby.
Yarby stood and went to the pulpit.
“Thank you. A most…enlightening interpretation, Mr. Collins.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “I do love this parable.
My favorite part is when the repentant son returns and his father, seeing him from a distance, runs to him and kisses him, calling him beloved—which was quite out of tradition for those times, as the father should naturally wait for the son to come to him in a show of respect.
“So, how are we to understand that? Well, I believe the true meaning here is that the father in this tale represents our own Heavenly Father. And what Jesus is telling us in this story is that when we take a single step towards God in repentance and ask forgiveness for anything, He will take one hundred steps towards us, embrace us with a loving heart, and assure us we are His own.”
Yarby glanced over at Mr. Collins, who was now openly scowling. Yarby gave a weak laugh. “There you have it! Two interpretations of our time-honored parable this Sunday. I encourage you to think on them both. Let us open our hymnbooks now for the concluding anthem.”
***
“I did not appreciate your contradicting me in church today, Mr. Yarby,” Mr. Collins said testily.
His “curate” had followed Yarby after the service to the parsonage and right into the study, much to the rector’s annoyance.
Any hopes Yarby had had that Mr. Collins’s now extremely pregnant wife would be a higher priority were apparently misplaced.
Mr. Collins had helped Charlotte into the Lucas’s carriage with her parents and then waited until Mr. Yarby started home, following him, silently fuming.
Yarby sighed and turned to face the man, trying to keep his temper in check.
“Perhaps if you had shared your thoughts with me before you gave your sermon, we could have avoided it. I would have steered you away from such a harsh theme. I do apologize if I injured your pride, Mr. Collins. But I simply did not think such an unusual interpretation of a story of love and forgiveness could go without answer. I wish to see my—our parishioners leave church uplifted in heart and spirit, not feeling poorly about themselves!” His comments were waved away by Mr. Collins with a dismissive hand.
“You are simply too young and inexperienced to know the truth, Yarby—that most people are naturally bad with inclinations to laziness, greed, and deceit. It is only by reinforcing from the pulpit the dangers of eternal damnation that we can have a hope of keeping people on the straight and narrow path to righteousness!”
Mr. Yarby’s mouth opened, but he was unable to reply. He finally managed to say, “We have fundamentally different philosophies of human nature, clearly.”
“I accept your apology,” Mr. Collins said. “But, do not worry overly about it. You are young, as I said, and will grow in knowledge—especially with me here to guide you. Now, about the Christmas services. I propose you handle Christmas Eve, and I shall give the one on Christmas Day.”
“That will not do,” Yarby said firmly. “In fact, I know Mr. Bennet is particularly looking forward to my speaking then. He mentioned it just this week again. Therefore, I shall give the Christmas Day sermon. I am the senior rector, after all.” He knew he was treading on thin ice to say that, but he was beyond letting his fear dictate his speech.
Mr. Collins’s eyes narrowed. “Need I remind you of our agreement, Mr. Yarby? It would not do to have the scandalous behavior of your sister with your employer become public knowledge.”
Yarby’s jaw clenched. How much longer must he endure this blackmail? But was it worth fighting over? He finally nodded his agreement and saw Mr. Collins give a smile of victory.
“I am glad you see it my way. I certainly hope when I am in charge of Longbourn and—do not forget—your employer, you will be more tractable to my requests.” With a final sniff, he turned around and stomped from the room. The front door slammed moments later signaling his departure.
“Please, God—let that day be many, many years from now,” Yarby muttered under his breath, then went to join Amelia for lunch.