LECTIONARY READINGS
First reading: Joshua 5:9-12
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 33(34):2-7
Second reading: 2 Corinthians 5:17-21
Gospel: Luke 15:1-3, 11-32
Link to readings
It is hard to imagine a richer fare for the preacher than the content of today’s long Gospel: the Parable of the Lost (Prodigal) Son, Luke 15:1-3, 11-32. For once too, the Second Reading, 2 Cor 5:17-21, fits well with the Gospel. According to Paul the essential action that God brings about for our benefit through Christ is that of reconciliation (see also Rom 5:5-11; Col 1:19-20). And it climaxes in what is perhaps the most extreme expression on Paul’s part of the Son’s union with the sinful, alienated human condition: God made him (Christ) who “knew no sin” (the sinless one) “into sin” that we might become in him the “righteousness of God” (the Jerusalem Bible’s translation, “the goodness of God” is unforgivably lame). “God made him into sin”. Paul could make that daring statement because of his sense of the radical depth of God’s action in our regard. In the person of the sinless Son, God’s reconciling presence and power entered into the most “ungodly” reaches of the human condition to transform it and bestow upon it the holiness and love of God.
GOD OF EXTRAVAGANT LOVE
The parable told in the Gospel is the final and largest of three parables in Luke 15 (the first being the Lost Sheep, the second the Lost Coin). Jesus tells all three as a defence against criticism of the welcome he gives to “tax collectors (social outcasts) and sinners” and his “eating with them” – his celebration with them of their discovery of the mercy and hospitality of God. The three parables defend this behaviour in the light of a particular image of God that, cumulatively, they build up and project – a God who displays love to an extravagant and, humanly speaking, foolish degree.
The first two short parables, with some slight variation, display a pattern that goes like this: someone loses something precious, makes a “foolish” response to find it (neglecting 99 sheep, turning the house upside down to find a small coin), finds it, rejoices and calls for a communal celebration. The great parable – with a significant addition (the response of the older brother) – follows essentially the same pattern. The father loses a son. (That is why, of all the suggestions made for a title, I think the best remains: “The Lost Son”.) The young man’s behaviour is very callous. Culturally understood, he is in effect saying to the father: “You’re as good as dead to me. Give now what I’m due to inherit when you at last are”.
The parable vividly describes the gradual dehumanisation of the young man. Reduced to wanting to eat the pigs’ food – what could be worse for a Jew! – “he comes to his senses” (literally, “comes to himself” – a painful moment of self-knowledge). But this is hardly a moment of true conversion. He is calculating: “I can’t go back as a son. But at least if I can get back as a servant, I’ll be clothed and well fed”.
OVERCOME WITH COMPASSION
The father, the parable hints, has been watching day and night for his son’s return. Seeing him afar off, he is overcome with compassion (the Greek is much stronger than the JB translation “moved with pity” suggests). He runs out to meet the boy, embraces and kisses him tenderly. In the culture of the time, for a middle-aged man of means to run in public, to display extravagant signs of affection to a son who has caused the family disgrace is foolish behaviour in the utmost degree – as the older brother will soon so “reasonably” point out.
But this is not the end. The father does not allow the young man to finish his prepared speech about coming back as a servant. Bring out the best robe, the ring (sign of authority in the household), sandals (servants went barefoot) – all symbols of full reinstatement as son. And then the great communal celebration. Why? Because the one who was dead has come back to life; the lost one has been found.
This refrain – sounded here and again at the end – imposes a trajectory of “lostness” and “foundedness” over the more conventionally religious one of sin and forgiveness. Let’s admit: the older brother has very reasonable grounds for complaint. His “conversion” to the way his father sees things and behaves is difficult. We never learn whether he goes in and shares in the music and dancing or whether anger and resentment keep him forever outside.
And that is the real bite of the parable. Are you inside with the younger brother joining in the celebration of Gods’ mercy or does anger and resentment keep you stamping your foot with the older son outside? Like so many of Jesus’ parables this is one is basically saying, “Come to the feast”. The only blockage is what may lie, unconverted, in your heart.