Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent

The 15th Chapter of Saint Luke’s Gospel can rightly be described as a “lost & found” collection. Three parables take up the entire chapter, beginning with the Lost Sheep, continuing with the Lost Coin, and finishing with the Prodigal Son.

This parable is a favorite for many, one of the Lord’s most beautiful stories. A Priest I know once described it thus: “Chartres is the cathedral of cathedrals, and this is the Parable of parables.” He even went on to describe it in Latin as:

“evangelium intus evangelio” meaning: the Gospel within the Gospel.

Named for the wayward son, its primary focus is a vivid portrayal of the merciful Father. The parable, at once simple and profound, is narrated from three perspectives:

+ that of the younger son

+ that of the father

+ that of the older son

The younger son’s story is a classic account of a sinner’s fall, speaking primarily of those who have fallen away — or even rejected — faith, religion, or family values.

For the son to have requested his share of the inheritance while his parents were still living, was not absolutely forbidden, but was frowned upon as unloving and irreligious. The inheritance could be divided while the parents were alive, but it remained the duty of the sons to set aside adequate funds to take care of their parents in the parents’ old age.

When he decides to “take the money and run,” the Prodigal Son jeopardized the entire family’s economic standing. Besides gross ingratitude, he has added the sin of injustice. And then he commits the worst sin that a Jew could commit: Apostasy.

His sins against the 6th Commandment did not constitute the worst of his worries: It was:
+ his abandonment of his faith

+ his abandonment of his family -and -

+ the rejection of the values and virtues in which he was raised.

All of this was attested to by the phrase: “he went off to a far country…” which would be a place where faith and family could not sustain him, let alone define him, that he commits Mortal Sins against the 1st and 4th commandments.

When he finally burns through his inheritance, not just the money, but the faith and family, he hits bottom: slopping pigs, which was anathema to Jews, even envying the pigs themselves, He then awakens to his plight:

+ spent inheritance

+ lost dignity

+ ruined identity

His re-awakening, however, begins with mixed motives: driven by hunger and desolation, as well as his recollection of the servants’ living quarters and fine treatment back home.

Our translation of his awakening states: “Coming to his senses…” but the original translation reads: “He came to himself.” The weakness of the newer translation is that it suggests that he made merely a sensible decision. The strength of the former translation provides his remembering his true identity, and comes to a renewed self-knowledge graced with humility.

Beyond his former self-centeredness and sin, he now realizes that he belongs to his father, something that his rejection and shameful behavior did not change — as far as his father is concerned.

The son now counts on his father to be true to himself, but his memory of his father is clouded by his own sinful worldview. He wrongly surmises that having spent his father’s money, he has also spent his father’s mercy, forgiveness, and his love, so that the father might take him back but only in a limited capacity in which their relationship would be re-defined: he would be a servant, not a son.

So, he composes a little speech meant to impress his father, and heads for home.

Now, while we might question the purity or sincerity of the younger son’s motivations for his return to his father, we must keep in mind that there are no wrong motivations for us Prodigals to return to the Confessional. Whatever level of imperfection might taint our motivation, Our Lord purifies them with the words of Absolution.

We, too, may be Prodigals by wasted Grace, but we become prodigies by Grace renewed.

Now, before looking at the Father’s response, let’s look ahead to the Older Brother. We can see him here as a manifestation of the dark side of we whose sins are not as visible, or perhaps as spectacular, but which eat away at the soul for their lack of charity. We speak here of our Sins of Omission.

Sadly, the Older Brother has to be reminded by his Father of a beautiful, life-giving reality, present to him at every moment of his life. The Father says, “My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours.” Note that the Father speaks not of this son’s eventual inheritance, but of “everything I have.” Yet this is not enough.

Embittered by:
+sibling rivalry

+ un-met expectations in his relationship with his father

+ apparent friendlessness…he can find no joy in his brother’s return

Note his rejection in the dialogue with his father:

+ his Father begins, “this brother of yours…”

+ the older son retorts, “this son of yours…”

He has lived a life of obedience, fulfilling the demands of the 4th Commandment, but it was an obedience devoid of love.

The Younger Son had come to a genuine conversion, but the Older son’s misunderstanding of the meaning and importance of love and mercy, of compassion and forgiveness, meant that any conversion he might experience was still to come, if ever.

We come now to the Father who, though the Parable is traditionally named for his Prodigal Son, really is the central character of the story.

The Father, no doubt heart-broken at his son’s rejection of faith and family, is described in our story thus: “While the son 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.”

This means that the Father had been keeping vigil for his son, never giving up on him, his eyes constantly on the horizon: hoping… hoping…

No doubt the first hearers of the Parable were surprised to hear this curve that Jesus throws at them: They would have expected a stern rebuke: an arms folded, toe-tapping, “I told you so” sort of gesture. But look at what the Father does instead: He ignores the sons little, rehearsed speech and springs into restorative action with the robe, the ring, and the sandals. What do these signify?

The robe: covering his naked son with love and forgiveness

The ring: a sign of status, portrays the restoration of the son’s lost dignity

The sandals: servants went barefoot, sons wore footwear. this shows the restoration of his place in the family.

Then a celebration of the highest order begins, symbolized by the preparation of the fatted calf. The sound of music and dancing means that everyone was invited to celebrate, including the angry Older Son.

Following this, the Father meets the Older Son’s anger with the same depth of charity, attempting a reconciliation between the two brothers. The Father describes the Younger Son’s awakening as a life-and-death phenomenon, saying, “Your brother was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.” The light of the Resurrection has dawned on the young man’s life.

It’s possible that we might identify with either - or both - of these two sons:

+ the Prodigal Son speaks to our sins of commission.

+ the Older Son speaks to our sins of omission.

But even if we see ourselves in either - or both - situations, the point of the story is to turn to our Heavenly Father. Learning of Our Father’s mercy we should constantly - or perhaps begin - to seek it.

In the end, Our Lord Jesus wants us to become like the Father, meeting those who have hurt us through their sinfulness with the same forgiveness and mercy, the same compassion and restoration.

Saint Paul tells us: “God has reconciled us to Himself through Christ, and given us the ministry of reconciliation. Therefore, whoever is in Christ is a new creation.” This ministry of which Saint Paul speaks is now made possible and practical in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, a central element of the Season of Lent.

The door to the confessional is difficult to open for those who consider themselves sinless, but is a lot easier to open from the inside, strengthened by the Grace of God’s forgiveness.