This week’s gospel reading includes
what is possibly Jesus’ greatest parable: the Prodigal Son. (I say “includes”
because the official gospel reading this week is very long, with the Prodigal
Son parable as the second half. However, an approved shorter version may be
read at Mass, which is only the first half. So if your priest or deacon is in a
hurry and doesn’t proclaim the whole gospel reading, then show your displeasure
by reading the Prodigal Son portion in the Missalette instead of listening to
his homily. No, I’m kidding. Listen to his homily—but make sure you read the
Prodigal Son verses anyway.)
I can really relate to the younger son
in this parable. Way back when I was an atheist alcoholic, I messed up my life almost
as much as he did. Then when I became a Christian and got sober, I repented of
my sinful ways, and began to support myself and my family by finally working
hard. (Wow, what a concept!)
However, after many years of sobriety
and church-attendance, I slowly began to take on the traits of the pious older
brother. Remember him? He’s the one who was obedient, but who became angry and
resentful when the younger son was forgiven so quickly. I actually started to
look down my nose at people who were messing up their lives but who didn’t have
the “character” to get sober like me.
The younger son’s behavior was so bad,
he knew he was a sinner. But the older son did not commit obvious sins of the
flesh; he committed sins of the spirit: pride, anger, jealousy. So he didn’t
even realize he was a sinner, which made his situation more daunting. How do
you repent of sins you don’t even know you’re committing?
Most people can relate to either of
the two sons, and like me, sometimes both sons at various times in our lives.
The late great Catholic author Henri Nouwen wrote that Christians are
ultimately called to identify with the father in this parable.
The father in the story represents
God, whose love and forgiveness are unconditional. At some point in our lives,
we all will be in a position of authority, whether parent, teacher, coach,
supervisor, or just an older person with a lot of life experience.
There will be people in our lives who
will need our unconditional love. They may not be our offspring, and they may
not have messed up their lives quite as dramatically as the younger son in the
parable, but they will need our love. And the one thing they will NOT need from
us is “conditional” love, the love that says, “I’ll forgive you and embrace
you, but only if you do such-and-such.” Conditional love is merely a contract,
a business arrangement. It is not genuine God-like love.
The unconditional love God offers
us—the same unconditional love demonstrated by the father in the parable, and
the love that we are called to share with others—is a joyful love. It’s not a
calculated business deal; it’s not a self-righteous demand that the sinner
grovel for a while first, in order to pay the price for his sinful ways.
Instead, it’s a genuine delight that the other person has reached out and wants
to change his ways and restore a broken relationship. There are no conditions.
There is only pure joy.
That’s the supernatural love and
forgiveness God want to share with us. In turn, we must share this same kind of
love and forgiveness with our family, friends, coworkers, neighbors, and
acquaintances. It’s the only way we can fully share in the joy of God.
No comments:
Post a Comment