"Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you"
Luke 15: 11-32
The Word: https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/032722-YearC.cfm
The painting to the left is the well-known depiction of our extraordinary Gospel story from Luke this Sunday: The Prodigal Son. The Dutch artist Rembrandt painted this as the second of two he did: one when he was younger and this one as an older man. However, this depiction is more poignant and tender.
The wayward son returns, dressed in rags, even missing one
shoe, with his head shaved as if he did indeed spend away absolutely
everything. While the father, an old
nearly elderly grandfather image, leans down with a face of tenderness near
tears, to embrace the son who had caused him such humiliation and shame.
Meanwhile, the older son stands above the two figures, lurking dismissively at
his younger brother. Knowing the story Jesus told which is portrayed here
causes one to ask – How could any earthly parent be so forgiving? Why would any parent forgive so
unquestionably? But first.
Our second reading this Sunday and the stunning Gospel story
which Jesus tells, reveals the very heart of God and the Good News which Jesus
preached. At the base of our sacrament of reconciliation is this truth. Paul,
speaking to his Christian converts at Corinth reminds them: “Whoever is in
Christ Jesus is a new creation; the old things have passed away; behold new
things have come . . . Christ has given us the ministry of reconciliation . .
.” (2 Cor 5: 17-18).
Paul gives us a theological explanation. We are called to
build bridges, as God has done for us between himself and humanity, which is
one image of reconciliation. Reconciliation is a process of conversion and the
great sacrament of healing, or confession, invites us to walk into that process
before a merciful God. Any priest should be there not as judge and jury but in
the person of Christ, the divine physician who heals the wounded.
This leads to our Gospel from Luke 15 which makes that
process a deeply personal one. For me, and I know for many, many more the story
of the “Prodigal Son” or the “Forgiving Father” or any other variation on that
title you may want to offer, is not only a brilliant cast of characters but
deeply moving on a faith level. It is
rich with character development and questions our own view of God and our
ultimate response to God’s almost over the top mercy. And while the selfish,
ungrateful son risks not only his reputation but places himself in a position
where the Jewish father is so dishonored that he may simply be banished from
the family, the center piece of this story it strike me is more the father than
the son. We may also call is, the
parable of the generous father. The tender Rembrandt painting is rich with this
symbolism.
In telling this story, Jesus deliberately, I suspect, left
the end hanging with the father’s challenging statement to the jealous older
brother: “My son . . . everything I have is yours. But now we must celebrate
and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was
lost and has been found.” (Lk 15: 32).
How the older son reacted to this statement is left unanswered. Did he
come around and join the party? Did he walk away in disgust? Did he also ask his father to forgive him for
his petty jealousy? It invites us to our own self-examination. How would I feel
and what would I do? With which son do I most identify?
Further, the setting in which Jesus told this story is
significant to our understanding. Luke
reminds us: “Tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to
Jesus, but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain, saying ‘This man
welcomes sinners and eats with them.’” (Lk 15: 1). Jesus was constantly berated
for his association with the undesirables.
And among his worst critics were, of course, those so hardened in their
own self-righteousness, that they had closed their minds to God’s mercy, like
the older brother.
Regardless, Jesus invites specifically this crowd, who are
invited to see themselves in the older son, to open their hearts and minds. It
invites every one of us to ask ourselves the same question about which of the
two sons do I find in myself. The answer
for most of us is that I see both sons in me. Our God is like the father in the
story who waits for us to come home with open arms. He longs for our return
with love and mercy, not judgment and condemnation. Clearly he had been waiting
for the return of his son for on first sight he ran to meet him.
It’s most shocking for me that the son was so brazen as to
ask his father for his inheritance long before his father was ready to pass on.
Almost pathologically without any shame he approaches his father. Even more
startling is that the father gave him all he requested! The son goes off and does everything he can
to embarrass his father’s good reputation and his family name, not to mention
his own integrity. Finally, in desperation, having reached the ultimate bottom
with nowhere else to turn, he plans his return to the same father he had so
appallingly treated and beg for forgiveness. What caused him to be so repentant
– desperation and guilt: “Coming to his senses,” Jesus teaches. However
imperfect his repentance was, at least it motivated him to return.
I’d like to imagine that Jesus paused here for a moment and
looked intently at the crowd around him to study their faces. He may have allowed a moment of dead silence.
What will the father do and say to his irresponsible son? Did the most critical
among them begin to break down?
Then our Lord continues with the most unanticipated reaction
of the father: “While he (the son) was still a long way off, his father caught
sign of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him
and kissed him.” Without a word from the father in the story, Jesus proclaims
what God is like and how he desires that we come home and remain in the family.
The son might have spent everything away but that’s only “stuff.” The greater
value is the person, most especially one who repents. (Have you gotten the point Pharisees that
Jesus may be thinking of you?) This is why our Lord reached out constantly to
those who were branded as “sinners.”
With robes, rings and a fatted calf the son finds himself
back in the good graces of his family.
Then, the elder son appears and throws a wet towel on the
festivities. “I’ve been the good and
obedient son. Am I not the responsible
and respectful “apple of your eye?” He doesn’t even name his brother but refers
to him as “your son.” What’s with this party?
You never did that for me!
On one level, the party may seem a bit over the tope but it
makes the point of celebration over one who repents. The older son is so
blinded by jealousy, competition, and his own sense of his goodness, that he
misses the point of what his father is like. His whole life has been one of a
son who follows the orders of his father rather than building a deeper personal
relationship with him. So, the father reminds him of how generous and fair he
has always been. Yet, more importantly
at this moment to rejoice in the new life his younger brother has found: “He
was dead and has come to life again.” He’s changed, not the same person he
was. Like an almost Ebenezer Scrooge
kind of transformation it is cause to give thanks.
Then the story ends.
Again, I imagine Jesus looked more intently than before at his listeners
who likely were stunned by the father’s behavior. Hopefully, though, also moved so deeply that
they saw themselves in the two sons and in particular the most stubborn among
them began to soften their own pride which blinded them to see the expansive
nature of God.
Are we moved in the same way?
We should be indeed. Does it seem
too good to be true? Is God really this
blind to our sin? Yes and no perhaps.
God does not ignore sin but he sees our dignity in spite of that and desires
our conversion. Where am I in this story?
How willing am I to “come to my senses?” What will be the key that will
change me? Here, the story doesn’t end
for us; it only begins. Yet what about
those in jails and prisons? What about those on death row? You answer that in
light of this story. The world condition today in eastern Europe call us to a
desperate plea to restore harmony and peace between peoples and nations.
We find it in the sacrament of reconciliation, the holy
Eucharist, the scriptures, our shared faith and prayer. But we must become the
father in our daily encounter with each other.
In the middle of this rich journey through Lent we may have found our personal need to return to the Father. Go to be reconciled with the Father in sacramental confession. He is waiting for you .
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