4^th Sunday of Lent (C); March 27, 2022

Jos 5:9-12.  Ps 34.  2 Cor 5:17-21.  Lk 1205:1-3, 11-32

Deacon Jim McFadden

         Today is Laetare Sunday, a time for rejoicing because the Father reveals to us that “Everything I have is yours” (Lk 15:31b).  Lent is more than half over, and redemption and forgiveness and new life draw closer to us.  This is also the Sunday when the catechumens experience the Second Scrutiny, reminding them and us of the mercy and forgiveness of God.

            Let’s look at this masterfully gold story from the perspective of the Father.  St. John Paul II in his 1984 Apostolic Exhortation Reconcilatio et Paenitentia wrote: “The parable of the Prodigal Son is above all the story of the inexpressible love of a Father-God—who offers to his son when he comes. Back to him the gift of full reconciliation….It therefore reminds us of the need for a profound transformation of hearts through the rediscovery of the Father’s mercy and through victory over misunderstanding and over hostility among brothers and sisters.”

            The Prodigal Son is a powerful story: its one of those rare gems that captivates the mind of every listener then and now.  Its also a familiar story, in which we can readily call to mind the main details.  The  younger son goes to his dad and asks for his share of the inheritance, which was very imprudent and insensitive; he was virtually saying, “Well, I can’t way for you to die; so, give me what’s coming to me right now!”  So, he takes the money, takes his inheritance from his father’s estate, and runs away to some faraway place, the “far country”, which in the original Greek is cora machra or “the big emptiness.”  He goes to the far country, an ancient of version of Las Vegas—”what happens in cora machra stays in cora machra”—where he squanders his wealth.  Out of money, he needs to get a job, any job.  He’s so desperate, he’s reduced to feeding pigs, which for a 1^st-century Jew, would be the lowest imaginable job.  And one day, he comes to an enlightened self-interest and says, “This is horrible: I’m outta here; I’m going home.”

            And, then we get this powerful scene in which Luke writes, “While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him and was filled with compassion.  Her ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him” (v. 20).

         Brothers and sisters, that’s the love of God writ large: reckless, unbelievable.  The son doesn’t deserve this outpouring of his father’s love, but there it is: rich, boundless, and so reckless.  Do you believe it?  After such rejection and betrayal, who can love like this?

            This story could also be called the Sacred Heart chapter of Luke’s gospel because it describes the heart of God that is just bursting for you.  Longing for you.  Yes—God longs for you. God pursues you.  He’s doing so right here, right now!  But, here’s the question: is there anything keeping you from coming home? 

Are you still stuck in the far country, the big emptiness?  What’s preventing you from coming home to our Father?

            The key is to identify with our Father and his all embracing, all-forgiving, caressing compassion.  To do that, we need to experience that love in our lives—to know that “everything the Father has is ours.” But, here’s the tricky part: while I may be okay with unconditional love when it applies to me, sometimes I’m not so crazy about when it applies to other people—especially those who’ve made bad decisions, or who have family or disappointed friends.  Are they to be welcome home as well?  Deep down we just believe that some of us don’t really deserve it.

            Heads-up, People of God:  none us really deserve to be welcomed home because it’s not about us. It’s about Him—the Father, who sees from the distance, who runs to us, embraces us, welcomes us, kisses us, and throws a party.  It’s all about Him, the Father, whose heart bursts with love for you and for me.  This parable is all about Him.  Amen.