Homily for the 4th Sunday of Lent C, 26 March 2022; Luke 15:1-3;11-32

No matter how many times we read it, and no matter how many homilies on it we hear, the parable of the Prodigal Son retains its power to move us, to astonish us, to stir us to the depths. The story is told entirely in human terms, but what it reveals to us is the compassionate love, the patience, the mercy of God. We read the story again now in mid-lent, to remind ourselves of our need for conversion, and also of the goal of our journey, both of lent and of life. So we’re encouraged to persevere along the path of humility: while ever renewing our confidence, our trust in God. He is our Father, in Christ Jesus our Lord. In Christ God comes out to meet us, to embrace us, to honour us, to welcome us home, to turn all our sorrow into joy.

Everyone agrees that this is a most wonderful story. But is it true? Is this really what God is like? Can the drama of human sinfulness and degradation really have such an ending? The answer to these questions depends entirely on who Jesus is, and on whether his claim to speak with divine authority is true, or not.

The Scribes and Pharisees think not. They refer to him - with no attempt to conceal the sneer - as “this man”. Who is he? Merely a layman, from nowhere. He has no formal training. He’s not a member of any recognised party. He breaks conventions, defeats expectations, and undermines established religious authority. His claims aren’t true, because they can’t be! In proof of that, just look! He openly welcomes sinners, and eats with them.

Against that, St. Luke invites us to read his Gospel attentively. See, Luke will say, what Jesus does. Listen to what he says. Observe also how he fulfils the Scriptures.

The Pharisees themselves can scarcely deny what they themselves have witnessed. “This man”, has performed in public many astounding acts of healing. Everywhere he has drawn huge crowds, and people from every class of society have eagerly listened to his preaching about God’s Kingdom. He has claimed the inheritance of the Jewish Prophets, and even indicated that he is “The Prophet”, the one foretold and anointed by God, to be Saviour of Israel. “This man” has formed a group of close disciples, and sent them out both to act and to preach in his name. He has described himself as a Physician of sinners, as the Bridegroom of Israel, as Lord of the Sabbath. More: he has claimed to know God, and to speak for God, and to mediate God’s will, with an authority superior even to that of Moses. He has even claimed authority, proper to God alone, to forgive sins. Many witnesses have testified also to his power over nature, and over demons; even over death itself. What about sin though? “This man”, has proposed an unheard-of standard of moral goodness, and purity, and generosity: far beyond the requirements of the law. About the sin of unbelief, and hardness of heart, and religious hypocrisy he has spoken harsh words. But thundering condemnation, punishment and doom has not been his focus. His message has been above all to the poor, to the afflicted, and to sinners. It has been a message of God’s compassion, God’s forgiveness, God’s healing, God’s invitation, God’s call.

In addition to so many signs of heavenly power, and heavenly approbation, St. Luke has added others, even more clearly supernatural. Both at the Baptism of Jesus by John, and at the Transfiguration, God’s voice has been heard, identifying Jesus as “my Beloved Son”. And from the very beginning Luke has demonstrated the heavenly origin of Jesus. Before his miraculous conception of a Virgin, an Angel had announced his coming, naming him as both Son of God, and Son of David.

But of all the signs, the final and greatest is yet to come. After the account of the public ministry, Luke will dwell in great detail on the Passion and death of Jesus. By this, the reproach of the Pharisees, and of the elder brother in the parable, will finally be answered. For by his saving death, Jesus himself has paid off all the debt of sinners. He has fulfilled all righteousness. He can with full justice pronounce a sentence of mercy, because he has taken upon himself all the punishment due to sin. That is much, but it’s not all. Because three days after his death, Jesus rose from the dead. And so the invitation to the feast can finally be offered. All is prepared; the Father stands ready; the door lies open: to home; to endless life and endless joy.

Taking into account the logic of the whole Gospel, we Christians boldly accept its necessary conclusion about the identity of Jesus. He is not only the Son of God, but also God the Son. He himself is God coming to visit his people. He comes not in wrath but in love; not primarily to rebuke, but to reconcile. He prepares for us a new, unheard-of closeness to Himself. He invites us, though of course without compulsion, to salvation, to redemption, to righteousness, to holiness, to the supreme dignity of divine Sonship.

I’d like to suggest now that the prodigal son can stand as a figure of our age: at least here in the secularised, post-Christian, post-religious, post-rational West. He is forgetful, even contemptuous, of his Father. He wants to be radically free from every constraint. And so he sinks into folly, and alienation, and degradation, and death. But the faithful love of God has no limit. God even sends repeated messages to the faithless son in his place of exile: through his Church, or through manifestations of any beauty, truth and goodness whatever; or through the misfortunes allowed by divine Providence. Especially in the past century or so, God has also sent repeated messages through Marian apparitions.

The parable makes no mention of the Mother of these two sons, but she must have been there, praying for them both, loving them both, throughout. Dare we hope now - dare we renew our own prayer - that our lost age will return to its senses, and return to God, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary? Could it even be that this return will begin in Russia and Ukraine: brought down so low through sheer human wickedness, but now consecrated anew to Mary? As I see it, apart from such a return to God - apart from the publicly acknowledged Lordship of Jesus Christ - there is nothing in store for our world but terrible calamity.

Whether or not the parable of the Prodigal Son has a truly happy ending is left an open question. The story ends not with a conclusion, but with an appeal.

Your Father loves and forgives your brother.

Will you not too?

Come to that, he loves and stands always ready to forgive you also.

Will you let him?