We have another striking illustration of this Syrian custom in the parable of the prodigal son, in the fifteenth chapter of St. Luke's Gospel. Here we are told that, when the wayward {207} boy returned to his father's house, desolate but penitent, it was the father who ran out to meet the son and "fell on his neck, and kissed him." It was the father who said to his servants, "Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet; and bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry." I know well that the mother of the prodigal could not have been less affectionate nor less effusive in her welcome to her poor son than his father was. But in harmony with the best traditions of the East, and without the least intention of slighting the good mother, the record takes no notice of her. It should be stated here that the prominent mention in the Gospels of Mary and Martha as Jesus' friends and entertainers is due to the fact that to those women the Master was not merely a _guest_, but a _saint_, nay, the "promised One of Israel." As such Jesus was a privileged personage. Yet--and it is not at all strange in view of Oriental customs--Jesus took with him none of his women friends and disciples on such {208} great occasions as the Transfiguration and the Last Supper. To extend hospitality in genuine Syrian fashion is no small undertaking. Brevity on such occasions is the soul of stinginess. Oriental effusiveness and intensity of speech are never more strenuously exercised than at such times. The brief form of the American invitation, "I should be pleased to have you dine with us, if you can," however sincere, would seem to an Oriental like an excuse to escape the obligation of hospitality. Again, the ready acceptance of an invitation in the West would seem to the son of the East utterly undignified. Although the would-be guest could accept, he must be as insistent in saying, "No, I can't," as the would-be host in saying, "Yes, you must." Approaching his hoped-for guest, a Syrian engages him in something like the following dialogue, characterized by a glow of feeling which the translation can only faintly reveal:-- "Ennoble us [_sherrifna_] by your presence." {209} "I would be ennobled [_nitsherref_] but I cannot accept." "That cannot be." "Yea, yea, it must be." "No, I swear against you [_aksim 'aleik_] by our friendship and by the life of God. I love just to acquaint you with my bread and salt." "I swear also that I find it impossible [_gheir mimkin_] to accept. Your bread and salt are known to all." "Yea, do it just for our own good. By coming to us you come to your own home. Let us repay your bounty to us [_fadhlek_]." "_Astaghfero Allah_ [by the mercy of God] I have not bestowed any bounty upon you worth mentioning."