Homily – 4^th Sunday in Lent, Year C

Fr. Timothy W. Castor

"Repent and believe in the Gospel!"

In the Gospel according to Saint Mark, these are the words with which our Lord Jesus began his earthly ministry.

"Be reconciled to God!"

As we just heard in today’s second reading, these are the words of Saint Paul as he makes his appeal to the church in Corinth.

Repent and be reconciled. This is the invitation Almighty God makes to everyone who has ever lived. It is the invitation he makes to each one of us every day, but with even greater force during the season of Lent. Repent and be reconciled. Penance and reconciliation. What do these terms mean? Why do I need to repent and how do I go about it? And what does it mean to be reconciled?

To answer these questions, our Lord has given us the beautiful parable of the prodigal son. The Catechism of the Catholic Church says that this parable illustrates the whole process of conversion and repentance. Pope John Paul II has used the same parable to teach about God’s mercy and his gift of reconciliation. Let’s dig into this parable and see if we can discover some of its riches.

We don’t know what kind of life the younger son had before he asked his father for his inheritance. But there’s no indication he was mistreated in any way or that he was unhappy. On the contrary, the fact that his father readily agrees to give him what he asks for would indicate that the son probably had a pretty good life. In other words, there was nothing to drive him away from home. So why did he want to leave? Because he thought that if he were to leave his father’s house and strike out on his own, then he would truly be free. But this freedom which so attracted him—and which even seemed to materialize for a time—turned out to be only an illusion. Cut off from his father’s protection and loving care, he quickly exhausted his resources and was forced into the most degrading state of slavery.

To put this in theological terms, the young man had sinned against his father and was now experiencing the consequences of his sin. He sinned by turning his back on his father, rejecting the father’s love, and following his own will and desires. Here we have the basic definition of all sin: turning away from God and turning inward toward oneself and one’s own will. All sins, big or small, follow this pattern. And why do we turn away from God? Because we are attracted by a lesser good—something that appears to give us freedom and happiness. But when we seek these things away from the Father’s house, we will discover, like the prodigal son, that they are only illusions.

Here we discover the reason why we need repentance: the reason is sin. Not original sin, which is washed away in Baptism, but actual sin, the sins we commit every day—and, yes, all of us in this church are in the same boat. "If we say we have no sin," writes Saint John, "we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." But how do we arrive at the point of repentance? Let’s see how this happens in the case of the prodigal son.

As we have already seen, the prodigal has come to the end of his resources—all of which was a gift from his father and never really his own anyway. Reduced to a state of utter misery and humiliation, he begins to reflect on his situation and to recall how good his life really was back home. "I shall get up," he says (because when we fall into sin, we really do fall), "and go to my father and I shall say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers.’" Here is the moment of repentance: the young man turns from his own way and turns back to his father. But notice the attitude with which he returns. He believes that he has no claim on his father’s love—and in justice, he does not. Think of the horrible way in which he has insulted his father: No one gets an inheritance from another person unless that person first dies. For a son to demand his inheritance is as much as to say, "You know, Dad, for all I care, you might as well be dead; so give me what’s coming to me." Then he further disrespects his father by wasting his money on his own selfish pleasure. He has brought dishonor to his father and to his whole family. In most families, a son like that would be disowned—and rightly so. The prodigal son knows all this, and so his object in returning home is not to seek reconciliation—he doesn’t deserve it. Rather, he’s simply looking for a job. "If I’m going to be a slave," he must have thought to himself, "I might as well be a slave in familiar surroundings where I know I’ll at least get a good meal." So he gets up and begins his journey home.

Repentance, then, is primarily an interior attitude of heart. It involves shame and hatred of sin along with a desire to change one’s life. But this interior attitude must be expressed in exterior action. This is why the prodigal son had to "get up" and return to his father’s house; this is why we must also "get up" and "do penance"—the kind of penance we are called upon to perform during Lent: fasting, works of mercy, prayer and sacrifice. But if these actions do not flow from an interior change of heart, an interior penance, they are worthless and hypocritical.

Now, back to our story, and here we arrive at the most wonderful and the most remarkable part: remarkable because it is totally unexpected, wonderful because it shows just how much God loves us. "While he 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… ‘Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.’" The young man certainly didn’t expect this! He expected anger and punishment. Instead, he finds mercy and compassion. The loving father does not reproach his son, he does not scold him, he doesn’t even let him finish the little speech he had prepared. Instead, he lavishes his love upon him, and treats him with the greatest honor and respect—exactly the opposite of the way he, the father, had been treated by his son. The prodigal son’s dignity as well as his place in the family is fully restored. In a word, he is reconciled to his father.

Now we can see why John Paul II says "reconciliation is principally a gift of the heavenly Father." We don’t deserve it, we can’t earn it; we have no right even to look for reconciliation with God after the way we have rejected him by our sins. Yet as often as we repent of our sins, God is ready to forgive us and to grant us the gift of reconciliation—a gift of his mercy and love. "If we confess our sins," writes Saint John, "he is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

"If we confess our sins..." And within the Catholic Church, God has provided a Sacrament precisely for this purpose: the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation. Here in our parish, we have the opportunity to celebrate this Sacrament every day before daily Mass, every Saturday at 3:00 p.m., and of course any time by appointment. This Tuesday evening we will have our annual Lenten Penance Service, when many area priests will be available to hear our confessions. I would urge you to take advantage of these opportunities so that you can make your Easter Communion with a heart free from sin and fully reconciled to God, to his Church and to one another. This way you will truly know the joy of friendship with God, and you will not find yourself in the sad condition of the other son—the one who refused to be reconciled to his repentant brother. This older son had always been faithful and obedient, but in the end he cuts himself off from the joy of his father’s house through his selfishness, jealousy and bitterness. You see, there is more than one way to reject the love of God and to turn our backs on him. The father pleads with his older son to come into the banquet, to be reconciled. Whether or not he accepts his father’s invitation, we do not know. It is the great unanswered question of this parable. But it need not remain unanswered for you and for me. To quote Saint Paul once more, "God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting their trespasses against them … We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God."

© 2004, The Rev. Timothy W. Castor