Fourth Sunday of Lent – Year C

 




SIN? A HELL FROM WHICH THE FATHER’S LOVE FREES US

 

Introduction

Jesus revealed that God is a friend of publicans and sinners (cf. Lk 7:34; Mt 9:12-13), but until when will he be? Will not a day come that he will change his attitude towards them? Some respond to this question: sinners have time until the end of life to convert, then that is it. At the moment of reckoning, God ceases to be good and becomes a righteous judge.

This change of heart (if it happens) can only leave us amazed and bewildered. Here on earth, Jesus accepts invitations of publicans and sinners, frequents their homes, takes part in their celebrations, eats with them and then, in heaven, denies them a place at his banquet and chases them away from himself! A behavior difficult not only to accept but also to understand.

Some others say: God will not condemn, but the sinner will scourge himself. Apart from the fact that the sinner has already been punished enough on earth for his wrong choices (Prov 8:36), how to admit that the encounter with the Lord, instead of an enlightening and purifying man, makes him even more hardheaded in the sadness that he chose? Who can believe that Christ will resign himself to losing a friend? Who can think that, at some point, evil will triumph (forever!) over the omnipotent love of God?

 

• To internalize the message, we repeat:

“The Father has entrusted all people to Christ, the Good Shepherd.

They shall never be lost, and no one will snatch them out of his hand.”

 

First Reading: Genesis 5:9a,10-12

The Lord said to Joshua, “Today I have removed the reproach of Egypt from you.”

While the Israelites were encamped at Gilgal on the plains of Jericho, they celebrated the Passover on the evening of the fourteenth of the month. On the day after the Passover, they ate of the produce of the land in the form of unleavened cakes and parched grain. On that same day after the Passover, on which they ate of the produce of the land, the manna ceased. No longer was there manna for the Israelites, who that year ate of the yield of the land of Canaan. —The Word of the Lord.

 

Before leaving Egypt, the Israelites celebrated the Passover. They kept vigil through the night; they ate the lamb and then, in the dark, they started their journey to the land God had promised to their fathers. Led by Moses and protected by the Lord, they crossed the Red Sea and entered the desert where they spent forty years.

Today’s reading tells the end of this long journey. After much wandering, the Israelites cross the Jordan River and reach Gilgal on the plains of Jericho. They are finally free and are going to take possession of a fertile land. Each family is assigned a field to cultivate. They will live on farming and animal husbandry, not anymore on manna and the poor fruits that the desert offers. To express their joy and their gratitude to the Lord, the Israelites decide to celebrate the feast of Easter again, as did their fathers on the night of liberation from Egypt.

They do not perform the ritual to remember the distant past but to show that they understand and realize that God has kept his promises. He had not led his people into the desert to destroy them, to let them perish—as their fathers had often suspected and insinuated (Ex 17:3; Num 14:3). So many times they have put him to the test, doubted his loyalty, disobeyed his voice (Num 14: 22), but he freed them from ‘the shame of Egypt.’

No sin or infidelity has managed to discourage him, dissuade him, and make him desist from his plan of salvation. The history of these people is a sign of the pilgrimage of all humanity to the land of ultimate freedom in which all, without exception, are expected to join (1 Tim 2:4; Tit 2:11). Leaving the desert, the Israelites no longer needed the manna, “the bread of angels” (Ps 78:25), the bread from heaven (Ps 105:40) that no one had been denied, and that no one had to consider any exclusive ownership. The person nourished by the Eucharistic bread is on a pilgrimage; he has not yet reached the Promised Land. However. Even this bread will cease when the feast and the eternal banquet begin.

 

Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 5:17-21

Brothers and sisters: Whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come. And all this is from God, who has reconciled us to himself through Christ and given us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting their trespasses against them and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. So we are ambassadors for Christ, as if God were appealing through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who did not know sin, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him. —The Word of the Lord.

 

The Jewish apocalyptic literature—which had its heyday at the very time of the birth of Christianity—foresaw that the present world, in terrible convulsions and catastrophes, would soon come to an end. From its ashes, a new world would rise up. Writing to the Corinthians, Paul responds to these expectations and says: we do not have to wait for cosmic upheavals, the old has already passed; with Christ’s Passover the new world has begun, and to be sharers of it, it is enough “to be in Christ” (v. 17). How can one better explain this miracle performed by God?

The Apostle uses the image of reconciliation. Sin is a disagreement, a state of hostility, and a divergence of views and intentions between man and God. This hostility has been overcome; harmony was restored not by repentance and man’s good will but by a free intervention by God. In Christ, God has reconciled the world to himself by “no longer taking into account their trespasses” (vv. 18-20). He has torn the books of accounts which were all in red.

A clean slate? The image of the legal debt forgiven might suggest this idea, but the rest of the letter clarifies the Apostle’s thought. He gives the Corinthians a heartfelt exhortation: “Let God reconcile you; this we ask in the name of Christ!” (v. 20). It is, therefore, necessary that man accepts the reconciliation that God offers. Between Paul and the Corinthian community, there was a painful breakup. In the past, the Apostle was hurt and even shut out from the community. This was not a trivial misunderstanding. Paul was refused because of the message he announced. And now, he reminds the Corinthians: “So we present ourselves as ambassadors in the name of Christ, as if God himself makes an appeal to you through us” (v. 20).

One cannot reconcile oneself to God without accepting the messenger. Reconciliation with God is not achieved through purification rites and ascetic practices but through adherence to the word transmitted by those who act as ambassadors of God (Rom 10:14-17). Lent is a privileged time for this listening and is also a time of verification because it is very easy to refuse—even in good faith—the messengers who are sent to proclaim the Word of the Lord.

 

Gospel: Luke 15:1-3,12-32

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.” So to them Jesus addressed this parable: “A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, ‘Father give me the share of your estate that should come to me.’ So the father divided the property between them. After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation. When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, and he found himself in dire need. So he hired himself out to one of the local citizens who sent him to his farm to tend the swine. And he longed to eat his fill of the pods on which the swine fed, but nobody gave him any. Coming to his senses he thought, ‘How many of my father’s hired workers have more than enough food to eat, but here am I, dying from hunger. I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers.’” So he got up and went back to his father. While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him. His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.’ But his father ordered his servants, ‘Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.’ Then the celebration began. Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way back, as he neared the house, he heard the sound of music and dancing. He called one of the servants and asked what this might mean. The servant said to him, ‘Your brother has returned and your father has slaughtererd the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’ He became angry, and when he refused to enter the house, his father came out and pleaded with him. He said to his father in reply, ‘Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends. But when your son returns who swallowed up your property with prostitutes, for him you slaughter the fattened calf.’ He said to him, ‘My son, you are here with me always; 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.’” —The Gospel of the Lord.

 

And here is the most beautiful of all the parables of the Gospels. From the early days of the Church, it has been studied, commented on, and inspired ideas in great writers, painters, musicians, philosophers, and psychologists. It is known as the ‘Parable of the Prodigal Son,’ but this title is not apt because it considers only one of the three characters. It neglects his older brother, to whom the whole second part of the story is dedicated, and above all, it ignores the real protagonist, the father. It is more correct to speak of the ‘Parable of the Love of the Father’ or the ‘Parable of the Merciful Father.’

It is often used during penitential services to touch the heart of the most obstinate sinners. Used in this context, however, the second part of the story creates some embarrassment; it bothers the emotion and recollection that are created. More than once, we wonder why Jesus did not stop after the father embraced the prodigal son and the beginning of the festival.

The one who asks this question has not been paying attention to the verses that introduce the parable. He has not checked to whom and for what reason Jesus narrates it. He is not appealing to sinners, but the righteous: “Tax collectors and sinners were seeking the company of Jesus… But the Pharisees and scribes frowned at this, muttering, ‘This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.’ So Jesus told them this parable” (vv. 1-3).

They are the Pharisees and the scribes, the self-righteous that are running a significant spiritual risk. They are in danger because they have completely distorted the relationship with God; they did not understand that his love has no bounds, and before him, they cannot claim merits.

In the previous chapter, Jesus was at the table of one of the leading Pharisees (Lk 14:1). Now, he has considerably changed company: he is with all the publicans and sinners; indeed, he seems to have invited them to his house. A scandalous choice that causes the righteous indignation who believe that he is impure and not from God. To justify his behavior, Jesus tells the parable. It is, therefore, in the second part of the story that the main lesson is found. It is there that the older brother, who clearly represents the Pharisees, enters the scene. They are the blameless observants of the commandments and the precepts of the law. They need to change their way of thinking if they want to be included in the banquet of the kingdom announced by the prophets (Is 25:6-8).

Now, we come to the parable. One day the younger son of a wealthy landowner comes to his father and asks for his inheritance. The wise Sirach does not recommend conceding to such a request. He would say to the father: “It is preferable for your children to be dependent on you …. Wait until the end of your days, until death is near, to distribute your inheritance” (Sir 33:22-24). But the father in the parable has no reluctance. He silently divides his wealth between his two sons by what the law establishes.

This father’s behavior indicates God’s respect for the choices of man. He encourages, educates, advises, accompanies, but always leaves us with the freedom to choose.

Why does the younger son hurriedly decide to leave the family? The first reason is that he sees a kind of tyrant in his father who imposes his will and does not allow him to do what he wants. The years of youth are few; it passes like a breath, and one runs the danger of losing the best opportunities and the most precious time to enjoy life. It draws on the reasoning of the insane: “Our days are like the passing of a shadow …. Come then, and enjoy all the good things; let us use creation with the zest of youth … and not passing by any flower of spring. Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they fade; let everyone take part in our orgy” (Wis 2:5-9).

However, it is perhaps unfair to think that the faults are only his. Soon we will know his brother, and we will immediately sense what kind of person he is, how he thinks, reasons, and how proud he is of his perfection and moral integrity. He is intolerant with whoever does not share his convictions, sense of duty, and frenetic rhythm of his work. We will realize that life beside such a person is not easy or rewarding.

The goal of the young man is “a far country.” He breaks with his family, his people, the religious traditions of his homeland and goes to settle among the heathens and breeders of pigs, the unclean animals par excellence (Lev 11:7). It is the image of alienation from God, rejection of all moral principles, and the choice of a dissolute and uninhibited life.

Far from the house of the Father, however, joy and peace are absent. The pursuit of pleasure, drugs, false friends, and sexual aberrations bring no lasting joy. The adventures do not fill; man needs an inner balance; otherwise, he feels ‘starved.’ The image of the young man forced to place himself at the service of a pagan to keep his pigs very effectively represents the desperate condition and degradation of the one who turns away from God. The rabbis said: ‘Cursed be the man who rears pigs.’

The experience of despair can be providential. The rabbis still said: ‘When the Israelites were forced to eat carob, they converted.’ But the younger son, was he really sorry?

The answer to this question is of paramount importance for understanding the parable. If we read verses 17-19 carefully, we note that the concern of the younger son is not the pain caused to the father but hunger. The case would be different if he had said: “Look where I am! I was a degenerate son. I ruined my life, but before I die, I want to apologize to my father; I want to embrace him. Then I will leave again, without accepting even a cup of coffee, because I do not deserve it.” These words would indicate repentance. Instead, he makes no mention of the pain caused to his father. His only concern is to find a piece of bread. The nice little speech he prepares and intends to recite upon arrival at home has one purpose: to move the father and convince him to feed him.

The conclusion is: there is no evidence that he was repentant. He leaves anyway and implements, in every detail, the project outlined in his monologue (v. 20). Now the father returns to the scene. He does not say a word. His reaction to the returning son is described in five verbs which are sufficient to consider this verse as one of the most beautiful in the whole Bible.

• He saw him a long way off. He sees him first because he has always been waiting for him.
• He was deeply moved with compassion. The Greek verb ‘splagknizomai’ indicates a very intense and profound emotion that can even be perceived physically in the ‘bowels.’ It is the feeling that a mother experiences towards the child she is carrying. One cannot imagine a more intimate and more vital emotion. In the New Testament, this verb appears only in the Gospels (twelve times) and is always referred to God or Jesus to say that only God can feel this form of love.
• He ran out. An intuitive but careless gesture for an old man. It is also undignified for a person of his rank. The emotion has clearly caused the father to lose control of his reactions. He acts just by listening to his heart.
• He threw his arms around his neck. Literally, he fell on the neck, which is much more than an embrace. We find this expression only one more time in the New Testament. It is used to express the feelings of the Ephesian elders when they greet Paul, knowing that they would no longer see his face: “They all began to weep and threw their arms around him and kissed him” (Acts 20:37).
• He did not stop to kiss him. It is not the traditional kiss of greeting given to the host but a welcome sign; it is the expression of joy and forgiveness. The father does not allow his son to kneel.

Faced with the reaction of the father, the prodigal son—about whose repentance we have already expressed reservations—takes the floor and ‘recites’ his confession. He cannot finish it. When he is about to add: “treat me then as one of your hired servants,” the father cuts him off and starts to give orders (vv. 21-22). His dispositions have a meaning and a symbolic reference.

• The son must be given the best long robe—the one used for feasts, for respected guests, the same one that, according to the seer of the Apocalypse, is worn by the elect in heaven “who stand before the throne and the Lamb” (Rev 7:9). God restores the returning son to his family with all the honors.
• The ring on his finger. It is not the wedding ring, but a ring with the seal. The authority upon the servants and the power over the father’s assets are given back to the young man. Strangely, it looks as if nothing had been squandered. He can still dispose of all the inheritance that seems (and is) inexhaustible.
• The sandals on his feet are the mark of a free man. The slaves went barefoot.

In his house, God does not want slaves but free people (Jn 15:15). For this—note the details—the father interrupts the son’s confession before he declares his willingness to become an employee; then orders that he be given the robe, not the short one used by servants on weekdays. Finally, the sandals: we do not present ourselves barefooted before God. The trembling barefooted servants expect to receive orders or reprimands. God is not a master to be feared and served but a father to be loved.

A feast concludes the path to the father’s house. Judaism taught that God granted his pardon to those who had sincerely repented and expressed their desire to be converted through fasting, penance, wearing tattered clothes, and prostrations. The first part of the parable ends so outrageously, and the Pharisees listening cannot accept it. The God-image announced by Jesus is very different from the one they had imagined. Jesus preaches a God who organizes a banquet for those who do not deserve it; he introduces sinners in his feast without checking if they are repentant if they are sincerely determined to change their lives. He embraces them without asking them any questions.

It is the point of friction between Jesus and the spiritual leaders of Israel. His welcoming of repentant sinners would not provoke an angry reaction. Even the scribes and Pharisees forgive those who recognize their mistakes and promise reform. Their irritation stems from the fact that Jesus is a friend of publicans who continue to do their job, and he frequents the houses of sinners who have not converted. In Jesus’ behavior, God reveals himself: He loves everyone, both the righteous and the sinners, always and without conditions. He asks us to ‘love even those who do us harm.’ He asks us to love our enemies if they are repentant or not and to do good to them even if they continue to haunt us. He demands this behavior because the Father in heaven gives us the example: he makes his sun rise on the just and the wicked (not only upon the repentant wicked! [Mt 5:44-48]). If he built barriers between good and evil, and if he loved some and hated others, how would he demand us to do otherwise?

It is inevitable that, in the face of this gratuitous love of God, a question arises: if God also loves the wicked, why strive to behave well? It is to answer this question that Jesus, in the second part of the parable (vv. 25-32), introduces the eldest son. Let us see what kind of person he is and who he represents.

He comes from the fields, exhausted, perhaps even tensed and worried. He is always the one who must solve all the problems and finds a surprise: a feast, music and dancing … He is neither invited nor notified. He calls one of the servants and inquiries about the going on. The original text has the verb in the imperfect (was informing) that indicates a prolonged action. He is so stunned and shocked that, even after the repeated explanations of the servant, he remains incredulous. He is indignant, and his anger is more than justified: it is the logical reaction of the faithful and the faultless person before a blatant injustice.

Before the father who goes to beg him (again, the verb is in the imperfect: was continuing to beg him insistently) asking him to enter, he lists his merits: I have not transgressed any command, I have always served you faithfully … It is the perfect portrait of the observant and careful Pharisee who in the temple can say to the Lord: “I am not like other people, grasping, crooked, adulterous …. I fast twice a week and give the tenth of all my income” (Lk 18:11-12).

The words he speaks are a bit ill-bred, but they are all correct. Who among us would not share them? That was how the scribes and the Pharisees of Jesus’ time reasoned, and that is how many believers today reason. Theoretically, we admit that God is right to do what he wants (Mt 20:15); we recognize that we receive everything for free from him. Still, we continue to think that the righteous are in credit before him, that paradise must be earned, and that those who do not deserve it are kicked out.

The anticipation of the condemnation of the evil-doer stems from the belief that whoever sins is a clever guy that enjoys it; for this, he is envied and is expected to be punished. The sinner does not realize that his life is a great tragedy. The unbridled pursuit of pleasure leads to despair, not joy. Disgusted by sexual aberrations and evil, the prodigal son concludes: ‘I perish with hunger.’

This blameless older brother did not understand that the father at home does not want servants but children. In the parable, the younger son uses the word ‘father’ five times because, for him, the father is really a ‘Father.’ He knows he has no claims in his regard; he is convinced to have received it freely, not deserving anything. On the lips of the elder son, instead, the word “father” never appears. His expressions are not a son but a servant; the father for him is only a master. The consequence of this bad relationship with the father is denying the brother whom he calls: “this son of yours” (v. 30). Immediately, however, the father, with great finesse, corrects him: “this brother of yours …” (v. 32). Since this is the inner disposition of the elder brother, it is easy to imagine what would happen if the younger son, on his arrival, found him at home instead of the father. The parable is not completed. It remains to see if the older son joined the party and if the younger son changed his ways.

As the parable tells our story—and in each of us, there are two children—it is not difficult to imagine what happened. The elder son came to the party, for sure. Someone like him cannot be left out: he is too accustomed to obeying. He is unable to oppose his father’s wishes, even though in his heart, he carries the secret hope that soon everything will return as before. He lives in tension because, on the one hand, he realizes that he lived for many years next to his father and did not quite understand him. On the other hand, he cannot accept the novelty, cannot renounce his ideas, his beliefs, and his complacency for his merits … He will continue ‘going to church,’ ‘will not miss a Mass,’ but always harshly criticize those preachers who speak of the gratuitous love of God, the salvation of all people, and an empty hell …

The younger son? One day he will stay inside and on another, outside, always regarded with contempt and arrogance by his older brother; but always received with tenderness by his father. They began the feast—says the text—not made merry (v. 24). They began only because every time one of the children goes out, the feast stops. It will be final and without end only when the door will be closed with all the children inside.