We Should Identify With Prodigal Son’s Father

This week’s gospel reading is possibly the greatest of Jesus’ many parables: the Prodigal Son. Over the years I’ve written about the parable of the Prodigal Son many times. When I think back on my young adult years, back when I was an atheist alcoholic, it’s very clear I was living the life of the younger son in the parable. I didn’t demand my inheritance in advance (talk about chutzpah!), but I definitely sponged off my parents’ hard work while living a life of non-stop partying and zero studying at college.

When I became a Christian and repented of my sinful ways, and began to support myself and my children by finally working hard (what a concept!), I was a lot like that younger son who humbly asked his father to let him return to the family estate, not as a son but as a mere hired hand. I was humbled enough to want only a steady job, with which I could pay my bills on time and prove to my wife that I had really changed.

After many years of sobriety and church-going and writing essays about the Christian faith, I slowly began to realize I had taken on many of 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 quickly forgiven for all his transgressions.

It’s not that I didn’t want sinners to call on the name of the Lord and repent and turn their lives around. It’s just that maybe at times I was a little too judgmental. Like the older brother, I often focused on cold justice and fairness: if some punk screwed up his life by making reckless choices, well, then that was his problem. If he came to his senses and repented, great, but he still needed to experience some of the painful consequences of his bad behavior. I think my attitude at times was a little too self-righteous and condescending—just like the older son in the parable.

The younger son was a screw-up, and he knew it. When you’ve squandered a pile of someone else’s money in a short period of time, and when all your so-called friends have disappeared, and when you’re forced to eat scraps from a pig trough to survive—then no one has to point out to you that you are a sinner. You know it.

The older son, however, also was a screw-up, but he DIDN’T know it. His sins were not so obvious. Outwardly, he did as he was told, he was very responsible, and he never caused his father any trouble. His sins were internal rather than external. His sins were sins of the spirit, not sins of the flesh. His sins were the deadly sins of pride and anger and jealousy. And his sins kept him from fully embracing his father’s all-encompassing love. The older son’s bitterness and resentment were like a prison, which kept him locked up emotionally and unable to fully enjoy life. And all-the-while the older son was certain he had done nothing wrong and all his frustration was being caused by the unreasonable and unfair behavior of other people.

In many ways the older son had a more daunting problem than the younger son. How do you repent of sins you don’t even know you are committing?

So, over the years I’ve written about this fascinating parable, first looking back and identifying with the prodigal younger son, then more recently identifying with the judgmental older son. The parable has been a great vehicle for recognizing sinful attitudes that would otherwise go unnoticed.

Our parish has a Men’s Spirituality Group, and a few years ago we studied Henri Nouwen’s fascinating little book, The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming. (If you’ve never heard of the late Fr. Nouwen or this book, please check it out. It will be well worth it.)

In the book, Fr. Nouwen discussed a whole new dimension to this famous parable. Besides the typical interpretations, where people identify with one or both of the sons, Nouwen suggested that we are called ultimately to identify with the father.

Even the most basic analysis of the parable of the Prodigal Son acknowledges that the father in the story represents God, whose love and forgiveness are unconditional. But the idea of us identifying with this God-like, unconditionally loving character took me by surprise. The way Nouwen explained it, though, made sense. 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 screwed 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, “OK, I’ll forgive you and embrace you, IF you agree to do such-and-such. Or IF you promise not to do so-and-so again.” 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 is 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, colleagues, and acquaintances. It’s the only way we can fully share in the joy of God.

Two Different Views of Vacation

Back in January, when I returned to work after a week’s vacation in Florida, people bombarded me with questions: “Did you rent jet skis?” “Did you go para-sailing?” “Did you jog on the beach?” “Did you use the hotel gym every morning?” The answers to these questions were: “No,” “Are you insane?” “Oh, you’re funny,” and, “What’s a gym?”

It dawned on me that people have two very different views of vacation. Some folks think vacation is an opportunity to do all sorts of adventurous activities that aren’t normally available at home. These people fill each vacation day with so much stuff, their daily schedule is as busy as a presidential candidate visiting a primary state, except with more opportunities to get injured.

If I took that approach to my vacation, when I returned home from vacation I would need a vacation.

Other people, like me, have the opposite view of vacation. We see it as an opportunity to actively engage in the one thing that is not possible to do the rest of the year: nothing. To folks like me, vacation is the once-a-year chance to relax, do nothing, think about nothing, and find out if it’s really true that moss will grow on a human being if he stays motionless for seven days straight.

Here are questions my co-workers should have asked me: “How many naps did you take?” “How many times did you go in the hot tub?” and, “How many times did you eat out at a restaurant?” The answers are: “Six,” “Fourteen,” and, “I can’t count that high.” (“I can’t count that high,” also is the answer to the question: “How much weight did you gain?”)

Now, I understand that some people will point out that if you’re going to do nothing during vacation, you might as well do nothing at home and save all the money spent on air fare, rental car, hotels, and over-priced tourist trap restaurants. However, I’ve tried that in years past, and it doesn’t work. First, outdoor pools and hot tubs are not quite as enjoyable in Connecticut in January as they are in Florida in January. Call me a wimp, but going outside in my bathing suit when it’s 16 degrees is not my cup of tea.

More importantly, when you vacation at home with the desire to do nothing for a week, it lasts about half a day. At home, all those zillions of chores and projects you’ve been putting off are staring you in the face. And you can’t use the excuse that you have to go to work tomorrow so it wouldn’t make sense to start a project now. A little voice in the back of your head keeps saying, “C’mon, you should paint the bedroom. There’s plenty of time.” Or, “C’mon, you should fix that squeaky step on the stairs.” Or, “C’mon, now is the perfect time to replace the kitchen faucet that drips.” (On second thought, that little voice may not be coming from the back of your head, it may instead be coming from across the breakfast table.)

Also, vacationing at home means you are dangerously close to your place of work. It’s a sure bet that at some point during the week a co-worker will call and plead, “Can you please come in — just for a few hours — and help us fix this problem? Please?!!” That scenario does not happen when you’re out of state. 

So, although some of my co-workers were puzzled that my vacation goal was to do nothing, when I returned to work I was refreshed and raring to go. And that gung-ho attitude lasted quite a while this year — almost half a day.

The Gates of Hell Shall Not Prevail

As Catholics, we should rejoice that we are members of the only earthly institution that has been given a divine guarantee of success. In Matthew’s gospel, chapter 16, Jesus instituted the Church on the Rock of St. Peter, and then the Lord said about the Church, “The gates of Hell shall not prevail against it.”

That’s terrific news! The God of the Universe has promised that no matter how bad things get, not even the forces of the Evil One can defeat the Church. Whew, I feel better already. It’s pretty obvious sinister forces have been working overtime to destroy the Church, especially in recent years with all the scandals. Sometimes it seems the Church is about to fade into obscurity, or even collapse. So it’s good to know that Jesus Himself promised that the Church ultimately will survive and thrive.

Anyway, over the years, I’ve heard some priests and preachers explain Jesus’ words to mean that no matter how viciously Satan attacks the Church, the Church will have the power to withstand those attacks and avoid being conquered.

But wait a minute. That’s not what Jesus said. He specifically used the term “gates.” Gates are used to defend something, such as a house or city. Gates are used to keep invaders out. Gates are employed as a military tactic when you are on the defensive.

Jesus did not say the power of Hell shall not prevail against the Church’s gates. He said the gates of Hell shall not prevail against the Church.

To be fair, in the book of Revelation, St. John does talk about gates, when he described the future heavenly city with big walls and 12 gates made of pearl, the famous “pearly gates.” (Which prompted comedian Jim Gaffigan to observer, “Heaven has gates? You mean Heaven is a gated community? What are they trying to do, keep teenagers out who want to sneak in and use the pool?”) However, John’s symbolic writing was based on his apocalyptic vision and most Scripture scholars say we should not take it too literally. Besides, John was talking about future conditions in Heaven; Jesus was talking about the Church on earth, here and now.

So, here and now on earth, Jesus tells us that the gates of Hell shall not prevail against the Church. Do you know what that means? It means we are not supposed to be on defense, hiding behind our walls and gates, hoping the forces of evil are kept out. Instead, we are supposed to be on offense, on the attack, and trying to smash down the gates of Hell and destroy evil.

How exactly do we go on the offensive, on the attack, and destroy evil? Here’s an idea: every time we see someone doing something we don’t approve, let’s scream that he’s an evil sinner and beat him over the head with a Bible. That ought to work. Um, maybe not.

Yes, we should be on the offensive, on the attack, rather than defensively sitting back in our little parishes and hoping that evil doesn’t get inside. But for followers of Christ, we don’t “attack” using traditional weapons. We also don’t “attack” using emotional weapons, such as judgment, condemnation, screaming, and metaphorical (or literal) beatings over the head with Bibles. 

We must go on the offensive, on the attack, by using the spiritual weapons of the Lord: love and mercy and truth. We have to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, just as Jesus commanded. The weapons of love and mercy and truth can conquer evil. We have been commanded by the Lord to go on the offensive, go on the attack, and smash down the gates of Hell. He has assured us that we will be victorious.  

Jesus Says We Must Repent – Or Perish

A while back I was listening to a Christian radio station in my car, and a statement made by the preacher kind of jumped out at me. He said Satan knows more correct theology about God than even the brightest, most educated theologians in history. Satan, after all, is a supernatural being with an intellect far greater than mere mortals, and he is a powerful angel who was in the very presence of God until he rebelled because of pride and then was cast out of Heaven. Satan has seen God in action—from the inside—and he knows exactly what God is like.

However, the difference between Satan and a devout Christian, the radio preacher explained, is that Satan would never, ever consider repenting.

So it’s not enough merely to know about God or to believe in God. St. James wrote in his epistle in the Bible, “You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder” (James 2:19).

In addition to knowing facts about God, a true disciple must repent, ask for mercy, and dedicate him or herself to serving the Lord. This is the only way we can be in a true loving relationship with God.

In the gospel reading at Mass this weekend, Jesus repeated the exact same bold statement within a few paragraphs of each other. Twice he declared, “But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!”

Repentance is so important. It was the primary message of countless Old Testament prophets. It was the message preached by John the Baptist as he called people back into a relationship with God. It is the message Jesus is proclaiming to us in this week’s gospel.

If we don’t repent, we cannot be forgiven. If we’re not forgiven, then we’re still stuck with our sins. If we’re still stuck with our sins, then we can’t enter into Heaven. So as Jesus said (twice), if we do not repent, the end result is that we will perish. Repentance is that important.

Unfortunately, in our modern society it is very difficult to repent—and not because we don’t have anything to repent of. On the contrary, our society just might have more sins per hour per person than any other culture in human history. If you don’t think so, just consider the Seven Deadly Sins: pride, anger, lust, greed, envy, gluttony, and sloth. In bygone generations people were taught to avoid these seven attitudes that invariably lead to sin. In our modern generation, these seven attitudes are encouraged, celebrated, and even rewarded. The resultant sins are just exploding all over society.

So it’s certainly not a lack of sins that makes it hard for us to repent. The problem is that we frequently do not recognize these sins as sins. The problem is we have redefined sin to be nothing more than either personal preferences or the result of unfair circumstances or just plain bad luck. We have gone so overboard trying not to be judgmental or intolerant, we can no longer even bring ourselves to label any behavior—no matter how vile or harmful—as a sin. At best we call it a constitutionally-protected personal choice or an alternative lifestyle; and at worst we call it any one of a zillion illnesses.

“Oh, the poor fellow. He has an illness that compels him to kidnap children and rape them. He needs counseling to help him control his urges.”

“Oh, the poor dear. She has an illness that makes her embezzle money from her employer and then blow it all at the casino. She needs therapy to help improve her self-esteem.”

“Oh, the poor man. He is unable to work because he has an illness that forces him to sit on the couch all day and smoke pot, watch TV, and scarf down Hostess Fruit Pies by the case. He needs welfare checks and food stamps to pay his bills.”

Nope, nothing here to repent of. If it’s a personal choice or an unfair circumstance or bad luck or a pseudo-illness, then no one is personally responsible. No one is guilty. No one has committed a sin. And no one needs to repent. How wonderful.

Only one problem. Jesus says if we don’t repent we will perish. I suspect Jesus said the same thing to Satan way back when Satan was throwing his prideful hissy-fit in Heaven. At that moment, when Satan possibly still could have repented and been forgiven for his rebellious arrogance, he instead defiantly proclaimed that he had done nothing wrong except stand up for his right to make his own choices—or possibly he insisted that he had an illness that compelled him to demand that other creatures worship him as if he were God. Who knows?

Either way, Satan was cast from Heaven because of his sin and his lack of repentance. He now prowls the world in a seething rage of agony, looking for unsuspecting souls to deceive and devour. (See: 1 Peter 5:8.) He is having a bloody field day in our modern society.

What a crying shame that we find it so hard to repent. It is, as Jesus said (twice), absolutely necessary to keep from perishing.

Impatiently Waiting For Serenity

Recently I’ve noticed that I’m becoming less patient. For example, I’ve been driving on Interstate-84 on a daily basis for decades. I’ve probably spent more time on that highway than I’ve spent in my own bed. But in the last year or so, when the traffic slows down to a 10 mph crawl — as it does faithfully every day of the week — the needle on my frustration meter spikes into the red zone. That never used to happen. I used to accept that stop-and-go traffic was a fact of life and a 20 mile journey is simply going to take at least an hour. Now, I immediately grit my teeth and mutter all kinds of unpleasant comments about my fellow commuters. (I realize the Bible says “love your neighbor as yourself,” but I’m pretty sure none of those motorists live on my street, so they ain’t my neighbor.) 

Last month my wife and I were sitting in Bradley airport waiting for our flight to begin boarding. Then they made an announcement: “Attention passengers on flight 903 to Ft. Myers. We’re sorry, but two flight attendants called in sick. We’ve contacted replacements, who are now on their way to the airport. We will begin boarding as soon as they arrive, which will be in about 45 minutes. We cannot begin the boarding process without our full crew of flight attendants. Thank you.”

I jumped up and said, “Wait a minute. What did he say? We’re waiting for flight attendants? Not jet engine mechanics. Not the pilots. Not the guys who supply the tiny bags of stale peanuts. But flight attendants? We can’t board the plane without flight attendants?!”

I turned to my wife and said, “We can do that. It’s easy. You just stand inside the plane next to the cockpit door, smile a lot, and say, ‘Welcome aboard.’ Then you help people get their suitcases in the overhead bins, which I usually do anyway ‘cause I’m tall. If we load the plane now we’ll be all set to take off as soon as the real flight attendants get here. C’mon, hon, let’s go over there and volunteer to get this show on the road.”

 

My wife stared at me, then said, “What is your problem?”

I replied, “My problem is that I don’t want to waste the better part of the next hour sitting here waiting for a couple of airline employees to drive up I-91 from a hotel in Hartford.”

She smiled and said, “Please sit down and relax.”

That’s the problem. I can’t relax anymore. Whenever precious time is being so grossly wasted, I just can’t shrug my shoulders and say, “Oh well.”

Maybe my lack of patience is happening due to metaphysical and philosophical reasons. Maybe I’ve become aware that I am at an age where even if I live out my full life expectancy, there’s really not that many years left. This means, of course, that every wasted hour nowadays is not an insignificant percentage of my remaining time on this planet and it’s truly a cosmic injustice when an entire hour is not put to productive use. Or, on the other hand, maybe I’m just a grumpy geezer.

Our vacation in Florida was relaxing — not counting the waiting at the baggage carousel, the waiting in line at the rental car counter, and the waiting for a table at various restaurants each night. 

From now on I’m going to do my best to avoid becoming impatient, especially when I have to wait. And I’m going to begin my quest for serenity right now. Oops, better make it tomorrow; today I have to go to the Motor Vehicle Department.

Happy in Heaven If Loved Ones Not There?

The Bible is very clear that Heaven is wonderful. Scripture says that once people are in Heaven, the Lord “will wipe ever tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, for the old order has passed away” (Rev. 21:4).

The Bible also is very clear that not everyone will make it to Heaven. Jesus Himself said, “Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road broad that leads to destruction, and those who enter through it are many” (Matt. 7:13).

This got me wondering: How can I truly be happy in Heaven if some of my loved ones are in Hell? OK, that is a bit optimistic on my part. Let me rephrase it to a more likely scenario: How can my loved ones be happy in Heaven if I’m in Hell?

There are some folks who playfully say, “Well, Hell sounds like a lot more fun than Heaven, anyway. And besides, that’s where all my friends will be!”

I’m usually the first one to make smart-aleck comments about serious topics, but in this case even I know that is simply not funny. There is nothing playful or fun about being in a situation where your very soul is aching with torment and loneliness and regret—for all eternity.

So, I ask the question again: If a person makes it to Heaven, can he or she really be happy and joyful if precious loved ones reject the Lord during their earthly lives and as a result spend all of eternity separated from the joy of God?

This is really not an academic exercise, since we all know that young adults are leaving the Church in droves nowadays. God is certainly a God of mercy and forgiveness, and regular church attendance is not absolutely mandatory for entrance into Heaven (although it truly helps a lot!), but you have to figure a sizeable percentage of those people who no longer attend church also have lost their faith in the Lord. They have either stopped believing altogether, or aren’t sure what to believe, and don’t really care anymore. And that is a scary thought, because the bottom line, according to Christ Himself, is faith and trust in the Lord.

I did a little research online. If you type this question in a Google search: “How can I be happy in Heaven if my family is in Hell?” you will get more than 5.4 million results. I’d say that indicates I’m not the only person concerned about this.

All the essays I read boil down to a few basic theories.

1. When we’re in Heaven, we will not have any memory of our loved ones, which will allow us to be perfectly happy and joyful. Hmm, I suspect Heaven’s joy will not be dependent on ignorance. That just doesn’t sound like God’s way of doing things.

2. In Heaven, we will be so keenly aware of God’s sense of Justice, that we will fully agree that our fallen-away loved ones deserve their fate, and we will be completely at peace with it. Whoa, I don’t think the guy who thought up this theory quite understands the love a parent has for a child. It doesn’t add up.

3. It’s a mystery that will not make sense to us until we’re in Heaven. It’s kind of like when Job demanded answers from God, and God finally spoke: “Who is this who obscures divine plans with words of ignorance?...I will question you, and you tell me the answers!” (Job 38:2-3). Basically, God said to Job: You’re on a need-to-know basis, pal, and right now you do not need to know!

Apparently, the faith that gets us into Heaven in the first place is the same faith we need to have regarding this question. God is in charge, and we must trust that His plans are perfect. 

But I have to tell you, this question still bothers me. 

A lot.

Getting Ready for the Transfiguration

(This weekend the Gospel reading at Mass is the Transfiguration. Here’s a little essay offering a different take on this momentous event.)

“Hey Elijah, are you ready yet?”

“Hang on, Moses, I’ll be ready in a minute.”

“You were probably late for your own funeral!”

“What funeral? No need for a funeral when God whisks you away in a chariot of fire.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Mr. Big Shot riding into Heaven like the grand marshal of the Rose Bowl Parade. Well, anyway, Elijah, we’re gonna to be late if you don’t hurry up! We’re scheduled to meet the Lord on a mountaintop in ten minutes. And we’ve got a really important assignment.”

“I know, Moses, I know. I was sitting next to you during the PowerPoint presentation, remember? I know exactly why we’re doing this. It’s time for our age, the age of the Law and the Prophets, to give way to the new age of grace through Jesus.”

“Exactly. So how’s it gonna look if we don’t show up on time because Mr. Big Shot took forever to get dressed?”

“Hey, lighten up, Mo. It’s been centuries since I’ve been on earth. I want to look my best.”

“Listen, E-man, when the Lord makes our appearance dazzling white, those frightened little bunnies won’t be looking at our clothes.”

“Bunnies?”

“You know, Jesus’ disciples. He’s bringing Peter, John, and James. They’re gonna be so terrified they won’t notice any details. In fact, God told me that He’ll have to impress on their minds exactly who we are. Otherwise, they’d have no clue about our identities.”

“Yeah, I keep forgetting how stunning it is when mortals witness supernatural events. Like that time I called fire down from heaven. I just KNEW God was going to do it—He told me so—but still, when it happened, I almost fainted.”

“Yeah, me too. When I held my arms out and that Red Sea split right in half, I stood there for twenty minutes with my jaw hanging open drooling on myself.”

“So those three guys are in for quite a surprise, eh?”

“You’ve got that right, E-man. They will never forget this moment. That’s the whole point. Years from now, when Jesus’ new church on earth is being persecuted, these guys will have to convince people that it’s all true. And one of the main things they’ll be able to cite is this event.”

“Hey Mo, not to be a Monday morning quarterback or anything, but, uh, why did the Lord pick these guys, these bumbling fishermen? Couldn’t He have chosen a better class of disciple?”

“Oh, Elijah, I’m surprised at you. Jesus wasn’t looking for class and sophistication when He chose His disciples. He was looking for simple sincerity. Don’t forget, in a very short time these ‘bumbling fishermen’ will be responsible for spreading the Gospel all over the world. If Jesus had picked guys who were cunning and shrewd, no one would really trust them. With these simple men, people will instantly realize that they’re not clever enough to fabricate such an amazing story. Their innocence and naiveté will be their best asset.”

“Very nice speech, Mo, but what are you trying to do, make us late?”

“D’oh! I hate when you do that, Elijah! C’mon, hurry! We’re really late now!”

“Wait, wait! Moses, before we go, I want your honest opinion. How do I look? Is the gold sash a little too...MUCH?”

“Oh, E-man, of course you look great. You always go in style. But like I said before, those disciples won’t notice. And you know Jesus, He’s not into that kind of stuff at all.”

“Oh my! You’re absolutely right, Moses. I’m way overdressed! I’ve got to change my outfit. I’ll go with a light brown peasant frock. Yes, that’s it. Elegant, yet subdued.”

“No way! There’s no time. Hey! Where are you going?! Come back here!”

“I’ll be right back, Mo. Stall them for me. Tell some more Red Sea stories...” 

“Oh, that guy drives me nuts! Hey Lord, next time I have to visit earth, can I bring Adam instead? His entire wardrobe consists of a single fig leaf!”