Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year C

Homily Fourth Sunday of Lent. Year

Today, during this holy season of Lent we celebrate ‘Laetare Sunday’, (so named from the opening words of the introit at Mass: ‘Rejoice Jerusalem’) where the rigours of our Lenten observances may be slightly relaxed and mothers throughout the world celebrate their special day ‘Mothering Sunday’ may their day be filled with joy and blessings.

It is at this stage during our holy season that we are reminded that no matter how weak we feel we are, we should not think that, what we need to do in order to enjoy redemption is impossible or so difficult that we have to despair of obtaining it. It is enough for us to direct a heartfelt sigh to God, with sorrow for having offended such a loving Father and have the intention of amendment — for today God invites us to a Feast of His Mercy, Forgiveness and his Re-creation!

The crossing of the Jordan at the end of the years of wandering through the desert and the entrance into the Promised Landmark an important date in the history of God’s people; they are also events forever written in holy history. The first reading of this Sunday recalls these events very briefly, but in a way that helps us to understand them. The entrance into the Promised Land puts an end to the wanderings in the desert and inaugurates the settling of God’s people: the manna no longer falls; the people eat the fruits of the earth. It is also the fulfilment of the promise first made to Abraham, and often renewed afterwards, of a land on which to settle. All this proves the faithfulness of God and the constancy with which he efficiently pursues his plans. But we will particularly note the liturgical character given to the reported events. The crossing of the Jordan resembles a procession. The ark proceeds first, carried by twelve men, one for each tribe. When the priests set foot in the waters of the Jordan, the marvel of the Red Sea is repeated and the people cross dry-shod. Twelve stones are set up as a memorial. Then the rite of circumcision follows. After the men are recovered, Passover is celebrated in the evening as on the night the people left Egypt. On the day after ‘they ate of the produce of the land’ and in that year ‘they ate the fruit of the land of Canaan.’

For Christians, this text has sacramental and singularly Eucharistic connotations. The passage through baptismal waters has led them to the bank of the Promised Land. The Eucharist gives them a pledge of eternal life, ‘I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate manna in the desert, but they died…..Whoever eats this bread will live forever.’ (John 6:48-49)

A new Moses, Christ is also the new Joshua, who opens to his disciples access to the kingdom. Every Eucharist is a stop during which we celebrate the Passover by recalling with thanksgiving the marvels of God.

All images — The crossing of the Red Sea and the Jordan, the entrance into the Promised Land, the manna — are only weak illustrations of the reality of God’s work accomplished by Christ and the resulting situation for believers; Paul describes them both in vigorous terms ‘So whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come.’ We have to repeat several times these very simple expressions so that their force may be progressively revealed. ‘New creation.……new things….’Little by little, thanks to the light of scriptural reminiscences, their richness and depth appear, along with their very concrete meanings. The Book of Isaiah contains these words of the Lord, ‘See I am doing something new’ (43:19) ‘Lo, I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the things of the past shall not be remembered or come to mind.’ (65:7) These promises concerned the immediate future: the end of Exile, an exodus more marvellous than the first one. But the oracle also had in view a more remote future: it announced God’s intervention in messianic times and still beyond, the universe which will be established at the end of time, and which was contemplated by John in his vision written in the Book of Revelation: ‘Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth’. But the process is already begun, ‘behold, new things have come’at the centre of which humankind is placed as ‘a new creation.’ Indeed, the redemption worked by Christ, in whom ‘were created all things in heaven and on earth’, is a restoration of the whole universe. Whoever believes in Christ is born again, is saved ‘through the bath of rebirth— and [renewed] by the Holy Spirit’ and becomes a ‘new person.’ What is spoken of here is a reshaping of the whole being and not a mere moral and spiritual renewal: ‘new world…..new creation.’

To be sure a decisive step in salvation history has been taken. The world and humankind are henceforth on a definitive level and in a definitive state. There will be no other beginning, no other ‘creation.’ The destiny — the end — is now rightly and definitively reoriented, and we are all invited to this Feast of God’s mercy, forgiveness and re-creation. He has reconciled the world to himself in Christ.’ Indeed, if, while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, how much more, once reconciled, will we be saved by his life.’ Therefore, salvation is, as it were, the normal sequel of this change of situation, of state. The Gospel is the Good News of this reconciliation acquired by Christ and in him offered to all. The apostles are the preachers of this good news. They exercise the ministry of reconciliation. Ambassadors of Christ, they address to all this urgent appeal: ‘In the name of Christ, allow yourselves to be reconciled to God.’

Through Christ, sinful human beings have ‘become the righteousness of God.’ By his words, his acts, his attitude toward them, Jesus concretely showed how God welcomed them. He does not remain aloof and distant when waiting for their return, urged on them by the prophets he sent: he goes to meet them. And when he finds those who have wandered far away from him, he rejoices and invites his own to share in his joy. As is the case in today’s Gospel — the narrative of the prodigal son. ‘Rejoice (Laetare) with me because I have found what I had lost.’ This parable today dramatises the story of a father who finds his younger son. Then, immediately, everything else comes to a stop and he organises a feast: ‘But his father ordered his servants, ’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….’ They begin to celebrate without even waiting for the older son, still out in the fields. Surely, he will not delay for long, he can then join in the rejoicing, which is in any case nowhere near ending. The older son indeed comes back. However, not only does he recriminate against his father, but he grows very angry, not understanding that: ‘now we must celebrate and rejoice’ because of his brothers return. The lesson is obvious: we must share in God’s joy when he finds one of his children who was lost, and we must recognise his mercy and forgiveness. Much can be said (and has been said) about the prodigal son and the reaction of his older brother. The older brother is the most transparent character; he directly represents those to whom the parable is directed. Back from work, he hears the sounds of a feast; he asks what is going on and, upon learning the cause of this rejoicing, flies into a rage and refuses to set foot in the house, so his father goes out to entreat him.

The portrait of the younger son is not flattering, it pretty well corresponds to the idea of the sinner entertained by the Pharisees of all times. The young man leaves for a far away country, a pagan land, no doubt. There he leads a profligate life, the only one imaginable in such circles. He finds himself eventually reduced to tending swine — what a disgrace! — And to the envying the swine the food they receive. In a word, the very image of the sinner fallen to the depths of human and spiritual depravity

The central character of the parable and our concern today is the father. It is at him that we must keep looking. It is by pondering his words and conduct that we shall learn the principal lesson of the parable by which Jesus explains his actions: they are in harmony with the conduct of God, whose image the father is. ‘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.’ He has been constantly on the lookout for the return of his son. He does not listen to the little speech his son begins to recite. He has only one concern: to cloth him with the best robe and quickly prepare a feast ‘because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.’ This degree of excitement and agitation lively expressed the eagerness of the father, who forestalls any word or actions on his son’s part. We can imagine him saying: ‘You are here; this is enough; let us celebrate your return; we will talk of all this later.’ This is Jesus’ response to those who grumble, ‘This is how God is,’ Father among all fathers, ‘from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named.’

‘My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours.’ This is all he says to his angry son. ‘No, I am not doing you any wrong. You are and remain my older son, but my heart is big enough for me to love your brother too, without taking anything away from my love for you. You have to understand that we must celebrate and rejoice. Enter wholeheartedly into the joy of the feast.’ Did the older son hear this last invitation of his father, or not? What was finally his response? The parable says nothing about it; it remains open, incomplete. It is for each one of us to decide what this older sibling — who we all are — does.

The Pasch celebrated in each Eucharist is a memorial of the infinite love God manifests to sinners. In Jesus Christ, this Father transforms believers into new creatures and leads them into the Promised Land of a new world. We cannot celebrate this memorial without being filled with a total confidence in this God, who, for us, has identified his Son with sin.

‘Nothing, therefore, can take us away from God’s love or his Fatherly care, not even our sin and the consciousness we have for it. Nothing can even weaken our hope of salvation.’

 ‘My child, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours.’