In Latin, to bless is benedicere, which means literally: saying good things. The Father wants to say, more with his touch than with his voice, good things of his children. He has no desire to punish them. They have already been punished excessively by their own inner or outer waywardness. The Father wants simply to let them know that the love they have searched for in such distorted ways has been, is, and always will be there for them. The Father wants to say, more with his hands than with his mouth: "You are my Beloved, on you my favor rests." He is the shepherd, "feeding his flock, gathering lambs in his arms, holding them against his breast."
The true center of Rembrandt's painting is the hands of the father. On them all the light is concentrated; on them the eyes of the bystanders are focused; in them mercy becomes flesh; upon them forgiveness, reconciliation, and healing come together, and, through them, not only the tired son, but also the worn-out father find their rest. From the moment I first saw the poster on Simone's office door, I felt drawn to those hands. I did not fully understand why. But gradually over the years I have come to know those hands. They have held me from the hour of my conception, they welcomed me at my birth, held me close to my mother's breast, fed me, and kept me warm. They have protected me in times of danger and consoled me in times of grief. They have waved me good-bye and always welcomed me back. Those hands are God's hands. They are also the hands of my parents, teachers, friends, healers, and all those whom God has given me to remind me how safely I am held.
Not long after Rembrandt painted the father and his blessing hands, he died.
Rembrandt's hands had painted countless human faces and human hands. In this, one of his last paintings, he painted the face and the hands of God. Who had posed for this life-size portrait of God? Rembrandt himself?
The father of the prodigal son is a self-portrait, but not in the traditional sense. Rembrandt's own face appears in several of his paintings. It appears as the prodigal son in the brothel, as a frightened disciple on the lake, as one of the men taking the dead body of Jesus from the cross.
Yet here it is not Rembrandt's face that is reflected, but his soul, the soul of a father who had suffered so many a death. During his sixty-three years, Rembrandt saw not only his dear wife Saskia die, but also three sons, two daughters, and the two women with whom he lived. The grief for his beloved son Titus, who died at the age of twenty-six shortly after his marriage, has never been described, but in the father of the Prodigal San we can see how many tears it must have cost him. Created in the image of God, Rembrandt had come to discover through his long, painful struggle the true nature of that image. It is the image of a near-blind old man crying tenderly, blessing his deeply wounded son. Rembrandt was the son, he became the father, and thus was made ready to enter eternal life.


注釈：
In Latin, to bless is benedicere, which means literally: saying good things.
「literally」は「文字通りに」。「benediction」は「祝福、（食事時の）感謝の意」で「bene-」はラテン語で「良く」の意。「diction」は「祈りを言うこと」が原意で、英語を母語にする人にはラテン語は知らなくても「benedicere」の意味は類推可能できるので「literally」という言葉が使われたのでしょう。尚、食事の時の短い祈りは「blessing」。

The Father wants to say, more with his touch than with his voice, good things of his children.
「The Father wants to say good things of his children.」は文脈から「The Father wants to bless his children.」の意。「good things of his children」の「of」は「原因・理由・動機」を表します（「die of cancer」と同じ使い方。文法的には「his childrenのためにsay good things (bless)」

He has no desire to punish them.

They have already been punished excessively by their own inner or outer waywardness.
「wayward」はここでは「わがままな（difficult to control）」の意。「waywardness」は、その名詞形。「inner or outer waywardness」は平たく言えば「わがままな考えや行動」。

The Father wants simply to let them know that the love they have searched for in such distorted ways has been, is, and always will be there for them.
「distorted」は「誤った、ゆがんだ（twisted）」。

The Father wants to say, more with his hands than with his mouth: "You are my Beloved, on you my favor rests."

He is the shepherd, "feeding his flock, gathering lambs in his arms, holding them against his breast."
"feeding his flock, gathering lambs in his arms, holding them against his breast"は聖書からの引用。「群れを養い、御腕をもって集め、子羊をふところに抱く」。

The true center of Rembrandt's painting is the hands of the father. On them all the light is concentrated; on them the eyes of the bystanders are focused; in them mercy becomes flesh; upon them forgiveness, reconciliation, and healing come together, and, through them, not only the tired son, but also the worn-out father find their rest. From the moment I first saw the poster on Simone's office door, I felt drawn to those hands. I did not fully understand why. But gradually over the years I have come to know those hands.

They have held me from the hour of my conception, they welcomed me at my birth, held me close to my mother's breast, fed me, and kept me warm.
「conception」はここでは「妊娠、受胎」。

They have protected me in times of danger and consoled me in times of grief.
「grief」は「深い悲しみ（sorrow, misery, sadness, anguish, pain, distress）」。

They have waved me good-bye and always welcomed me back. Those hands are God's hands. They are also the hands of my parents, teachers, friends, healers, and all those whom God has given me to remind me how safely I am held.
Not long after Rembrandt painted the father and his blessing hands, he died.
Rembrandt's hands had painted countless human faces and human hands. In this, one of his last paintings, he painted the face and the hands of God. Who had posed for this life-size portrait of God? Rembrandt himself?
The father of the prodigal son is a self-portrait, but not in the traditional sense. Rembrandt's own face appears in several of his paintings.

It appears as the prodigal son in the brothel, as a frightened disciple on the lake, as one of the men taking the dead body of Jesus from the cross.
「brothel」は「売春宿」。「disciple」は「弟子」。

Yet here it is not Rembrandt's face that is reflected, but his soul, the soul of a father who had suffered so many a death.
「reflect」はここではは「を映す」。「many a」は「多くの a death」ということで「many」よりも個々を強調する表現。「幾多の」。

During his sixty-three years, Rembrandt saw not only his dear wife Saskia die, but also three sons, two daughters, and the two women with whom he lived. The grief for his beloved son Titus, who died at the age of twenty-six shortly after his marriage, has never been described, but in the father of the Prodigal San we can see how many tears it must have cost him. Created in the image of God, Rembrandt had come to discover through his long, painful struggle the true nature of that image. It is the image of a near-blind old man crying tenderly, blessing his deeply wounded son. Rembrandt was the son, he became the father, and thus was made ready to enter eternal life.

After his many trials at home and at work, he shows a special fascination with blind people. As the light in his work interiorizes, he begins to paint blind people as the real see-ers. He is attracted to Tobit and the near-blind Simeon, and he paints them several times.
As Rembrandt's own life moves toward the shadows of old age, as his success wanes, and the exterior splendor of his life diminishes, he comes more in touch with the immense beauty of the interior life. There he discovers the light that comes from an inner fire that never dies: the fire of love. His art no longer tries to "grasp, conquer, and regulate the visible," but to "transform the visible in the fire of love that comes from the unique heart of the artist."
The unique heart of Rembrandt becomes the unique heart of the father. The inner, light-giving fire of love that has grown strong through the artist's many years of suffering burns in the heart of the father who welcomes his returning son.
I understand now why Rembrandt didn't follow the literal text of the parable. There St. Luke writes: "While the younger son was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him." Earlier in his life, Rembrandt had etched and drawn this event with all the dramatic movement it contains. But as he approached death, Rembrandt chose to portray a very still father who recognizes his son, not with the eyes of the body, but with the inner eye of his heart.
It seems that the hands that touch the back of the returning son are the instruments of the father's inner eye. The near-blind father sees far and wide. His seeing is an eternal seeing, a seeing that reaches out to all of humanity. It is a seeing that understands the lostness of women and men of all times and places, that knows with immense compassion the suffering of those who have chosen to leave home, that cried oceans of tears as they got caught in anguish and agony. The heart of the father burns with an immense desire to bring his children home.
Oh, how much would he have liked to talk to them, to warn them against the many dangers they were facing, and to convince them that, at home can be found everything that they search for elsewhere. How much would he have liked to pull them back with his fatherly authority and hold them close to himself so that they would not get hurt.
But his love is too great to do any of that. It cannot force, constrain, push, or pull. It offers the freedom to reject that love or to love in return. It is precisely the immensity of the divine love that is the source of the divine suffering. God, creator of heaven and earth, has chosen to be, first and foremost, a Father.
As Father, he wants his children to be free, free to love. That freedom includes the possibility of their leaving home, going to a "distant country," and losing everything. The Father's heart knows all the pain that will come from that choice, but his love makes him powerless to prevent it. As Father, he desires that those who stay at home enjoy his presence and experience his affection. But here again, he wants only to offer a love that can be freely received. He suffers beyond telling when his children honor him only with lip service, while their hearts are far from him. He knows their "deceitful tongues" and "disloyal hearts," but he cannot make them love him without losing his true fatherhood.
As Father, the only authority he claims for himself is the authority of compassion. That authority comes from letting the sins of his children pierce his heart. There is no lust, greed, anger, resentment, jealousy, or vengeance in his lost children that has not caused immense grief to his heart. The grief is so deep because the heart is so pure. From the deep inner place where love embraces all human grief, the Father reaches out to his children. The touch of his hands, radiating inner light, seeks only to heal.
Here is the God I want to believe in: a Father who, from the beginning of creation, has stretched out his arms in merciful blessing, never forcing himself on anyone, but always waiting; never letting his arms drop down in despair, but always hoping that his children will return so that he can speak words of love to them and let his tired arms rest on their shoulders. His only desire is to bless.


注釈：
After his many trials at home and at work, he shows a special fascination with blind people.
「trial」はここでは「試練、苦労、苦難（trouble）」（「裁判」の意もあります）。「fascination with …」は「・・・に魅惑された状態」。

As the light in his work interiorizes, he begins to paint blind people as the real see-ers.
「work」はここでは「仕事」。「interiorize」はここでは「内面化する」。「see-er」は「目が見える人」。

He is attracted to Tobit and the near-blind Simeon, and he paints them several times.
「Tobit」は聖書に登場する人物で「敬虔なユダヤ人で大天使ラファエルに導かれて盲目から解放される」。「Simeon」は新約聖書では「救世主を見ることなく 死ぬことはないと知らされたシメオンが、 幼子イエスこそ待ちこがれた救世主であると 悟り、賛歌を歌う」と紹介されています。

As Rembrandt's own life moves toward the shadows of old age, as his success wanes, and the exterior splendor of his life diminishes, he comes more in touch with the immense beauty of the interior life.
「wane」はここでは「衰える（decline, diminish, decrease）」。「splendor」は「豪華さ」。「diminish」はここでは自動詞で「小さくなる、減少する（decrease）」。「immense」は「（計ることができないほど）巨大な（huge）」。

There he discovers the light that comes from an inner fire that never dies: the fire of love. His art no longer tries to "grasp, conquer, and regulate the visible," but to "transform the visible in the fire of love that comes from the unique heart of the artist."
「regulate」はここでは「統制する（control）」

The unique heart of Rembrandt becomes the unique heart of the father. The inner, light-giving fire of love that has grown strong through the artist's many years of suffering burns in the heart of the father who welcomes his returning son.
I understand now why Rembrandt didn't follow the literal text of the parable.

There St. Luke writes:
「St. Luke」は新約聖書の『ルカによる福音書』及び『使徒行伝』の著者とされる人物。聖人として崇敬されている。西方世界では医者及び画家の守護聖人とされる。日本語表記では「路加」とも書かれる。「聖路加病院」もこれに因んだ名前。

"While the younger son was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him." Earlier in his life, Rembrandt had etched and drawn this event with all the dramatic movement it contains. But as he approached death, Rembrandt chose to portray a very still father who recognizes his son, not with the eyes of the body, but with the inner eye of his heart.
It seems that the hands that touch the back of the returning son are the instruments of the father's inner eye. The near-blind father sees far and wide. His seeing is an eternal seeing, a seeing that reaches out to all of humanity.

It is a seeing that understands the lostness of women and men of all times and places, that knows with immense compassion the suffering of those who have chosen to leave home, that cried oceans of tears as they got caught in anguish and agony.
「anguish」は「（心の）苦痛（agony, pain, torment, torture, suffering, distress, angst, misery, sorrow, grief）」。「agony」は「（長く続く肉体的・精神的な）激しい苦痛（pain, hurt, suffering, torture, torment, anguish）」。

The heart of the father burns with an immense desire to bring his children home.
Oh, how much would he have liked to talk to them, to warn them against the many dangers they were facing, and to convince them that, at home can be found everything that they search for elsewhere. How much would he have liked to pull them back with his fatherly authority and hold them close to himself so that they would not get hurt.
But his love is too great to do any of that.

It cannot force, constrain, push, or pull.
「constrain」は「強いる（compel, force, drive, impel, oblige）」。

It offers the freedom to reject that love or to love in return.

It is precisely the immensity of the divine love that is the source of the divine suffering. God, creator of heaven and earth, has chosen to be, first and foremost, a Father.
「immensity」「広大さ、巨大さ、莫大（vastness）」。「first and foremost」は「first of all」。

As Father, he wants his children to be free, free to love. That freedom includes the possibility of their leaving home, going to a "distant country," and losing everything. The Father's heart knows all the pain that will come from that choice, but his love makes him powerless to prevent it. As Father, he desires that those who stay at home enjoy his presence and experience his affection. But here again, he wants only to offer a love that can be freely received.

He suffers beyond telling when his children honor him only with lip service, while their hearts are far from him.
「He suffers beyond telling」は「彼はtellすることを越えて苦しむ」⇒「語ることができないほど苦しむ」の意。

He knows their "deceitful tongues" and "disloyal hearts," but he cannot make them love him without losing his true fatherhood.
「deceitful」は「人をだます（dishonest）」。

As Father, the only authority he claims for himself is the authority of compassion. That authority comes from letting the sins of his children pierce his heart.
「the sins of his children pierce his heart」という表現は、イエスが十字架に架けられ死んだ後に兵士が「槍でわき腹を刺した」という聖書の言葉が下敷きになっています。

There is no lust, greed, anger, resentment, jealousy, or vengeance in his lost children that has not caused immense grief to his heart.
「lust, greed, anger, resentment, jealousy, or vengeance」は順に「強い欲望、肉欲」「貪欲」「怒り」「憤り」「嫉妬」「復讐」。「grief」は「深い苦しみ（sorrow, misery, sadness, anguish, pain, distress）」

The grief is so deep because the heart is so pure. From the deep inner place where love embraces all human grief, the Father reaches out to his children. The touch of his hands, radiating inner light, seeks only to heal.
Here is the God I want to believe in: a Father who, from the beginning of creation, has stretched out his arms in merciful blessing, never forcing himself on anyone, but always waiting; never letting his arms drop down in despair, but always hoping that his children will return so that he can speak words of love to them and let his tired arms rest on their shoulders. His only desire is to bless.
「the God」と定冠詞「the」がついているのは「I want to believe in」が「God」を修飾し「特定」できているという意識からです。

While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him. Then his son said, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son.” But the father said to his servants, “Quick! Bring out the best robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the calf we have been fattening, and kill it; we will celebrate by having a feast, because this son of mine was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and is found.”


While I was sitting in front of the painting in the Hermitage trying to absorb what I saw, many groups of tourists passed by. Even though they spent less than a minute with the painting, almost all of the guides described it as a painting of the compassionate father, and most of them mentioned that it was one of Rembrandt's last paintings, one to which he came only after a life of suffering. Indeed, this is what this painting is all about. It is the human expression of divine compassion.
Instead of its being called The Return of the Prodigal Son, it could easily have been called "The Welcome by the Compassionate Father." The emphasis is less on the son than on the father. The parable is in truth a "Parable of the Father's Love." Looking at the way in which Rembrandt portrays the father, there came to me a whole new interior understanding of tenderness, mercy, and forgiveness. Seldom, if ever, has God's immense, compassionate love been expressed in such a poignant way. Every detail of the father's figure - his facial expression, his posture, the colors of his dress, and, most of all, the still gesture of his hands - speaks of the divine love for humanity that existed from the beginning and ever will be.
Everything comes together here: Rembrandt's story, humanity's story, and God's story. Time and eternity intersect; approaching death and everlasting life touch each other. Sin and forgiveness embrace; the human and the divine become one.
What gives Rembrandt's portrayal of the father such an irresistible power is that the most divine is captured in the most human. I see a half-blind old man with a mustache and a parted beard, dressed in a gold-embroidered garment and a deep red cloak, laying his large, stiffened hands on the shoulders of his returning son. This is very specific, concrete, and describable.
I also see, however, infinite compassion, unconditional love, everlasting forgiveness - divine realities - emanating from a Father who is the creator of the universe. Here, both the human and the divine, the fragile and the powerful, the old and the eternally young are fully expressed. This is Rembrandt's genius. The spiritual truth is completely enfleshed. As Paul Baudiquet writes: "The spiritual in Rembrandt . . . pulls its strongest and most splendid accents from the flesh."
It is of special significance that Rembrandt chose a nearly blind old man to communicate God's love. Surely the parable Jesus told and the way the parable has been interpreted throughout the centuries offer the main basis for the portrayal of God's merciful love. But I should not forget that it was Rembrandt' s own story that enabled him to give it its unique expression.
Paul Baudiquet says: "Since his youth, Rembrandt has had but one vocation: to grow old." And it is true that Rembrandt always displayed a great interest in older people. He had drawn them, etched them, and painted them ever since he was a young man and became increasingly fascinated by their inner beauty. Some of Rembrandt's most stunning portraits are of old people, and his most gripping self-portraits are made during his last years.


注釈：
While I was sitting in front of the painting in the Hermitage trying to absorb what I saw, many groups of tourists passed by.
「absorb」はここでは「を取り入れる、自分の物にする（digest, take in）」。

Even though they spent less than a minute with the painting, almost all of the guides described it as a painting of the compassionate father, and most of them mentioned that it was one of Rembrandt's last paintings, one to which he came only after a life of suffering.
「compassionate」は「compassion（思いやり） + ate（・・・のある）」で「あわれみ深い、思いやりのある（sympathetic, caring, warm, loving, merciful）」。「suffering」は「苦しむこと、苦痛、不幸（misery）、受難」。「one to which he came only after a life of suffering」は「苦難の生活を経てやっとたどり着いた絵」。

Indeed, this is what this painting is all about. It is the human expression of divine compassion.
「divine」は「神の」。反対語は「human」。

Instead of its being called The Return of the Prodigal Son, it could easily have been called "The Welcome by the Compassionate Father." The emphasis is less on the son than on the father.

The parable is in truth a "Parable of the Father's Love."
「in truth」は前にも出てきましたが「実は、本当に、実際に」の意。

Looking at the way in which Rembrandt portrays the father, there came to me a whole new interior understanding of tenderness, mercy, and forgiveness.
「interior」はここでは「隠された、内面的な」。「tenderness, mercy, and forgiveness」は順に「やさしさ」「慈悲」「ゆるし」。

Seldom, if ever, has God's immense, compassionate love been expressed in such a poignant way.
「immense」は「（普通では計りきれないほど）巨大な（huge）」。「poignant」はここでは「心に強く訴える、感動的な（touching, moving）」。

Every detail of the father's figure - his facial expression, his posture, the colors of his dress, and, most of all, the still gesture of his hands - speaks of the divine love for humanity that existed from the beginning and ever will be.
Everything comes together here: Rembrandt's story, humanity's story, and God's story.
Time and eternity intersect; approaching death and everlasting life touch each other.
「intersect」は「交わる」。「time」は循環・流転の象徴。具体的には次の「approaching death and everlasting life touch each other」のことを言っています。キリスト教では「死後」の世界があります。

Sin and forgiveness embrace; the human and the divine become one.
What gives Rembrandt's portrayal of the father such an irresistible power is that the most divine is captured in the most human.

I see a half-blind old man with a mustache and a parted beard, dressed in a gold-embroidered garment and a deep red cloak, laying his large, stiffened hands on the shoulders of his returning son.
「parted」は「分けられた」。「embroider」は「を刺繍する」。「garment」は「衣服（ドレス・上着など）」。「cloak」は「マント、外套」。「stiffened」は「こわばった」。

This is very specific, concrete, and describable.
「specific」は「明確な、はっきりとした、具体的な」。「concrete」は「具体的な、明確な、具象的な」「実際の、現実の、実在の」。「describable」は「描写できる」。

I also see, however, infinite compassion, unconditional love, everlasting forgiveness - divine realities - emanating from a Father who is the creator of the universe.
「emanate」は「出る、生ずる」。

Here, both the human and the divine, the fragile and the powerful, the old and the eternally young are fully expressed. This is Rembrandt's genius.

The spiritual truth is completely enfleshed.
「enflesh」は「に肉体を与える、を具現化する」。

As Paul Baudiquet writes: "The spiritual in Rembrandt . . . pulls its strongest and most splendid accents from the flesh."
It is of special significance that Rembrandt chose a nearly blind old man to communicate God's love. Surely the parable Jesus told and the way the parable has been interpreted throughout the centuries offer the main basis for the portrayal of God's merciful love. But I should not forget that it was Rembrandt' s own story that enabled him to give it its unique expression.
Paul Baudiquet says: "Since his youth, Rembrandt has had but one vocation: to grow old." And it is true that Rembrandt always displayed a great interest in older people.

He had drawn them, etched them, and painted them ever since he was a young man and became increasingly fascinated by their inner beauty.
「draw」は「を線で描く」。「etch」は「をエッチングで描く」。「paint」は「を絵具で描く」。

Some of Rembrandt's most stunning portraits are of old people, and his most gripping self-portraits are made during his last years.
「stunning」は「美しい、とても魅力的な、かっこいい」。「gripping」はここでは「心を強くとらえる」。

The return of the elder son is becoming as important to me as – if not more important than-the return of the younger son. How will the elder son look when he is free from his complaints, free from his anger, resentments, and jealousies? Because the parable tells us nothing about the response of the elder son, we are left with the choice of listening to the Father or of remaining imprisoned in our self-rejection.
But even as I reflect on that choice and realize that the whole parable was told by Jesus and painted by Rembrandt for my conversion, it becomes clear to me that Jesus, who told the story, is himself not only the younger son, but the elder son as well. He has come to show the Father's love and to free me from the bondage of my resentments. All that Jesus says about himself reveals him as the Beloved Son, the one who lives in complete communion with the Father. There is no distance, fear, or suspicion between Jesus and the Father.
The words of the father in the parable: "My son, you are with me always, and all 1 have is yours" express the true relationship of God the Father with Jesus his Son. Jesus constantly affirms that all the glory that belongs to the Father belongs to the Son too. All the Father does, the Son does too. There is no separation between Father and Son: "The Father and I are one"; no division of work: "The Father loves the Son and has entrusted everything to him"; no competition: "I have made known to you everything 1 have learned from my Father"; no envy: "The Son can do nothing by himself, he can do only what he sees the Father doing." There is perfect unity between Father and Son. This unity belongs at the center of Jesus' message: "You must believe me when I say that 1 am in the Father and the Father is in me." To believe in Jesus means to believe that he is the one sent by the Father, the one in and through whom the fullness of the Father's love is revealed.
This is expressed dramatically by Jesus himself in the parable of the wicked tenants. The owner of the vineyard, after having sent in vain several stewards to collect his share of the harvest, decides to send "his beloved son." The tenants recognize that he is the heir and kill him to obtain the inheritance for themselves. This is the picture of the true son who obeys his father, not as a slave, but as the Beloved, and fulfills the will of the Father in full unity with him.
Thus Jesus is the elder Son of the Father. He is sent by the Father to reveal God's unremitting love for all his resentful children and to offer himself as the way home. Jesus is God's way of making the impossible possible - of allowing light to conquer darkness. Resentments and complaints, deep as they may seem, can vanish in the face of him in whom the full light of Sonship is visible. As I look again at Rembrandt's elder son, I realize that the cold light on his face can become deep and warm - transforming him totally - and make him who he truly is: "The Beloved Son on whom God's favor rests."


注釈：
The return of the elder son is becoming as important to me as - if not more important than - the return of the younger son.

How will the elder son look when he is free from his complaints, free from his anger, resentments, and jealousies?
「look」はここでは「・・・に見える」。「・・・」に相当するのが「How」で形容詞的に「どんな状態で」の意で使われています。「complaints, anger, resentments, and jealousies」は順に「不平」「怒り」「憤り」「ねたみ」。

Because the parable tells us nothing about the response of the elder son, we are left with the choice of listening to the Father or of remaining imprisoned in our self-rejection.
「imprison」は「を閉じ込める」の意。「self-rejection」は文字通り訳せば「自己拒否」ですが、手元にある辞書には載っておりません。相手の気持ちを確かめることなく、自問自答して、結局確かめることを放棄してしまう心理状態をいうようです。

But even as I reflect on that choice and realize that the whole parable was told by Jesus and painted by Rembrandt for my conversion, it becomes clear to me that Jesus, who told the story, is himself not only the younger son, but the elder son as well.
「conversion」は「回心（かいしん）」。キリスト教えでは、神に背いている自らの罪を認め、神に立ち返る個人的な信仰体験のことを指す。仏教用語では「えしん」。映画『沈黙』の中では「改宗」の意で使われていました。

He has come to show the Father's love and to free me from the bondage of my resentments.
「bondage」はここでは「とりこの境遇（slavery）」。

All that Jesus says about himself reveals him as the Beloved Son, the one who lives in complete communion with the Father.
「communion」は「親交、交際、交流、（霊的）交感」。この種の書物で使われる場合は「交わり」と訳されているようです。

There is no distance, fear, or suspicion between Jesus and the Father.
The words of the father in the parable: "My son, you are with me always, and all 1 have is yours" express the true relationship of God the Father with Jesus his Son. Jesus constantly affirms that all the glory that belongs to the Father belongs to the Son too. All the Father does, the Son does too. There is no separation between Father and Son:

"The Father and I are one";
「わたしと父とは一つである」。
no division of work: "The Father loves the Son and has entrusted everything to him";
「work」はこの種の書物では「御業（みわざ）」と訳されています。「御父は御子を愛して、その手にすべてをゆだねられた」

no competition: "I have made known to you everything 1 have learned from my Father";
「父から聞いたことをすべてあなたがたに知らせたからである」。

no envy: "The Son can do nothing by himself, he can do only what he sees the Father doing."
「子は、父のなさることを見なければ、自分からは何事もできない」。

There is perfect unity between Father and Son.

This unity belongs at the center of Jesus' message:
「belong」はここでは「（あるべきところに）ある」の意。

"You must believe me when I say that 1 am in the Father and the Father is in me."
「わたしが父の内におり、父がわたしの内におられると、わたしが言うのを信じなさい」

To believe in Jesus means to believe that he is the one sent by the Father, the one in and through whom the fullness of the Father's love is revealed.

This is expressed dramatically by Jesus himself in the parable of the wicked tenants.
「wicked」はここでは「（人・行為・精神が）悪い（evil）」。

The owner of the vineyard, after having sent in vain several stewards to collect his share of the harvest, decides to send "his beloved son."

The tenants recognize that he is the heir and kill him to obtain the inheritance for themselves.
「heir」は「遺産の相続人」。「inheritance」は「相続財産」。

This is the picture of the true son who obeys his father, not as a slave, but as the Beloved, and fulfills the will of the Father in full unity with him.
Thus Jesus is the elder Son of the Father.

He is sent by the Father to reveal God's unremitting love for all his resentful children and to offer himself as the way home.
「unremitting」は「（行動・努力などが）衰えない、間断ない、あくことのない（continual, constant, continuous）」。

Jesus is God's way of making the impossible possible - of allowing light to conquer darkness. Resentments and complaints, deep as they may seem, can vanish in the face of him in whom the full light of Sonship is visible. As I look again at Rembrandt's elder son, I realize that the cold light on his face can become deep and warm - transforming him totally - and make him who he truly is: "The Beloved Son on whom God's favor rests."
「sonship」は「息子であること」。「-ship」は名詞・形容詞につけて抽象名詞を作ります。「friendship」「professorship」「leadership」「membership」「hardship」。"The Beloved Son on whom God's favor rests."は聖書では「神の愛する子、神の心に適う者」と訳されています。

Along with trust there must be gratitude - the opposite of resentment. Resentment and gratitude cannot coexist, since resentment blocks the perception and experience of life as a gift. My resentment tells me that I don't receive what I deserve. It always manifests itself in envy.
Gratitude, however, goes beyond the "mine" and "thine" and claims the truth that all of life is a pure gift. In the past I always thought of gratitude as a spontaneous response to the awareness of gifts received, but now I realize that gratitude can also be lived as a discipline. The discipline of gratitude is the explicit effort to acknowledge that all I am and have is given to me as a gift of love, a gift to be celebrated with joy.
Gratitude as a discipline involves a conscious choice. I can choose to be grateful even when my emotions and feelings are still steeped in hurt and resentment. It is amazing how many occasions present themselves in which I can choose gratitude instead of a complaint. I can choose to be grateful when I am criticized, even when my heart still responds in bitterness. I can choose to speak about goodness and beauty, even when my inner eye still looks for someone to accuse or something to call ugly. I can choose to listen to the voices that forgive and to look at the faces that smile, even while I still hear words of revenge and see grimaces of hatred.
There is always the choice between resentment and gratitude because God has appeared in my darkness, urged me to come home, and declared in a voice filled with affection: "You are with me always, and all I have is yours." Indeed, I can choose to dwell in the darkness in which I stand, point to those who are seemingly better off than I, lament about the many misfortunes that have plagued me in the past, and thereby wrap myself up in my resentment. But I don't have to do this. There is the option to look into the eyes of the One who came out to search for me and see therein that all I am and all I have is pure gift calling for gratitude.
The choice for gratitude rarely comes without some real effort. But each rime 1 make it, the next choice is a little easier, a little freer, a little less self-conscious. Because every gift 1 acknowledge reveals another and another until, finally, even the most normal, obvious, and seemingly mundane event or encounter proves to be filled with grace. There is an Estonian proverb that says: "Who does not thank for little will not thank for much." Acts of gratitude make one grateful because, step by step, they reveal that all is grace.
Both trust and gratitude require the courage to take risks because distrust and resentment, in their need to keep their claim on me, keep warning me how dangerous it is to let go of my careful calculations and guarded predictions. At many points 1 have to make a leap of faith to let trust and gratitude have a chance: to write a gentle letter to someone who will not forgive me, make a call to someone who has rejected me, speak: a word of healing to someone who cannot do the same.
The leap of faith always means loving without expecting to be loved in return, giving without wanting to receive, inviting without hoping to be invited, holding without asking to be held. And every time 1 make a little leap, 1 catch a glimpse of the One who runs out to me and invites me into his joy, the joy in which 1 can find not only myself, but also my brothers and sisters. Thus the disciplines of trust and gratitude reveal the God who searches for me, burning with desire to take away all my resentments and complaints and to let me sit at his side at the heavenly banquet.


注釈：
Along with trust there must be gratitude - the opposite of resentment.
「gratitude」は「the feeling of being grateful and wanting to express your thanks」で「感謝の気持ち、謝意」（ジーニアス英和大辞典）が対応します。一方「感謝」の反対は「怨嗟」らしいです。「怨嗟」に対応する英語は「grudge」。「grudge」の類義語は「grievance, resentment, bitterness, dissatisfaction, bad feelings, antagonism」等。「resentment」は「a feeling of anger or unhappiness about something that you think is unfair」で「憤り、憤慨」「敵意、うらみ、悪意」（ジーニアス英和大辞典）が対応します。英語と日本語が１対１で対応していないことが分かります。この本の著者の気持ちを考えると「gratitude＝感謝の気持ち」「resentment＝憤りの気持ち」と訳するといいかも知れません。

Resentment and gratitude cannot coexist, since resentment blocks the perception and experience of life as a gift.
「coexist」は「共存する」。「perception」は「知覚、認識」。「resentment blocks the perception and experience of life as a gift」の直訳は「憤りの気持ちは贈り物としての人生の知覚と経験を妨害する」ですが「憤りの気持ちは人生を贈り物として感じ取り、体験することをはばむ」ということです。

My resentment tells me that I don't receive what I deserve. It always manifests itself in envy.
「manifest oneself in …」で「・・・となって現れる」。「envy」は「ねたみ、しっと、うらやましさ、羨望（jealousy, resentment, bitterness）」。

Gratitude, however, goes beyond the "mine" and "thine" and claims the truth that all of life is a pure gift.
「thine」＝「yours」。

In the past I always thought of gratitude as a spontaneous response to the awareness of gifts received, but now I realize that gratitude can also be lived as a discipline.
「live」はここでは「を生活で実行する」。「discipline」は可算名詞として使われていますので「訓練法、学習法、修養法」の意。

The discipline of gratitude is the explicit effort to acknowledge that all I am and have is given to me as a gift of love, a gift to be celebrated with joy.
Gratitude as a discipline involves a conscious choice.

I can choose to be grateful even when my emotions and feelings are still steeped in hurt and resentment.
「steep」はここでは動詞。「be steeped in …」で「・・・に満ちている」。

It is amazing how many occasions present themselves in which I can choose gratitude instead of a complaint. I can choose to be grateful when I am criticized, even when my heart still responds in bitterness. I can choose to speak about goodness and beauty, even when my inner eye still looks for someone to accuse or something to call ugly.

I can choose to listen to the voices that forgive and to look at the faces that smile, even while I still hear words of revenge and see grimaces of hatred.
「grimace」は「しかめつら」。

There is always the choice between resentment and gratitude because God has appeared in my darkness, urged me to come home, and declared in a voice filled with affection: "You are with me always, and all I have is yours."

Indeed, I can choose to dwell in the darkness in which I stand, point to those who are seemingly better off than I, lament about the many misfortunes that have plagued me in the past, and thereby wrap myself up in my resentment.
「better off」は「よりよい状態である」。「lament」は「嘆く（mourn, grieve, sorrow, wail, cry）」。「plague [pleig]」はここでは「を苦しめる」。

But I don't have to do this. There is the option to look into the eyes of the One who came out to search for me and see therein that all I am and all I have is pure gift calling for gratitude.
「therein」は「その中に、そこに」。

The choice for gratitude rarely comes without some real effort. But each rime 1 make it, the next choice is a little easier, a little freer, a little less self-conscious.
「self-conscious」は「自意識の強い」

Because every gift 1 acknowledge reveals another and another until, finally, even the most normal, obvious, and seemingly mundane event or encounter proves to be filled with grace.
「mundane」は「日常の（ordinary）」。「grace」はここでは「（神の）恵み」。神学関係では、この訳語が使われます。

There is an Estonian proverb that says: "Who does not thank for little will not thank for much." Acts of gratitude make one grateful because, step by step, they reveal that all is grace.

Both trust and gratitude require the courage to take risks because distrust and resentment, in their need to keep their claim on me, keep warning me how dangerous it is to let go of my careful calculations and guarded predictions.
「let go of …」は「・・・から手を離す」。「guarded」はここでは「用心深い（cautious）」。「prediction」は「予言、予報」。

At many points 1 have to make a leap of faith to let trust and gratitude have a chance: to write a gentle letter to someone who will not forgive me, make a call to someone who has rejected me, speak: a word of healing to someone who cannot do the same.
The leap of faith always means loving without expecting to be loved in return, giving without wanting to receive, inviting without hoping to be invited, holding without asking to be held. And every time 1 make a little leap, 1 catch a glimpse of the One who runs out to me and invites me into his joy, the joy in which 1 can find not only myself, but also my brothers and sisters. Thus the disciplines of trust and gratitude reveal the God who searches for me, burning with desire to take away all my resentments and complaints and to let me sit at his side at the heavenly banquet.