Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent - Year C

 The readings for the Fourth Sunday of Lent - Year C may be found at:

https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/033025-YearC.cfm

On this fourth weekend of Lent, 

the evangelist St. Luke tells us about “The Prodigal Son”.

The Reader’s Digest version of it, 

or Thumbnail - for the internet savvy, 

is that a flawed young man demands then blows his inheritance, 

suffers, and returns home humbled, where his father 

joyfully welcomes him back with open arms, 

symbolizing God's unconditional love and forgiveness.

What? 

Can you imagine your children 

asking for their share of their inheritance, now - while you’re still alive?

The nerve.

I wonder 

if the younger son was surprised when his father gave it to him.

This isn’t like asking for an advance on your allowance. 

This is saying to your father - you are dead to me. 

I don’t need you. Give me your stuff. 

The son has dishonored, hurt, and disowned his father.

Their relationship is now different.

But - the father stays silent. 

He doesn’t ask why the son is leaving or where he is going. 

He doesn’t get angry. 

He quietly divides his property.

For so long we have understood this story to be about sin. 

The younger son, the bad son, runs away and does bad things. 

The older son, the good son, stays home, never disobeying. 

The point seems clear. 

Be the obedient child to your heavenly father. 

But the reality is that the whole good versus bad thing

rarely transforms lives. 

Finger pointing, blaming, excluding rarely transforms lives.

Love, however, can and does transform.

Maybe this story is more 

about the father’s love - than the sons. 

Maybe it’s about mercy and grace than it is about sin. 

Luke introduces the story by saying, “There was a man.” 

From the beginning, the focus is on the father. 

Although we hear about the son’s journey, 

it is always in relation to the father. 

The father is the one 

who even made it possible for the son to leave. 

This story is about the sons receiving the father’s love.

The father’s love is so strong and so big 

that it is willing to let go. 

His love is so strong and so big 

that it makes no demands 

but is willing to wait patiently. 

It’s a love that forgives 

and welcomes home. 

This is the love that our Father, God has for us.

His love will not stop us from going to a distant country. 

Instead it can redeem the time spent there. 

Sorrow, grief, and loss take some to distant country 

while fear, shame and embarrassment take others there. 

Some may travel to distant country 

by way of addictions and self-destructive behavior. 

For some, guilt and self-condemning, ends in distant country.

However we get there, 

the distant country is that place we are lost, 

starving for life, love, and hope.

Not who we were meant to be. Not a place to stay.

Regardless of why we go, 

the things we have done, 

or the amount of time we’ve been away 

we can always go home. 

But that means, dealing with the voices.

“You don’t really think you could go home do you?” 

“After what you have done?” 

“You aren’t worthy.”

“You never were.” 

These voices can be loud.

But the good news is regardless of what we’ve done

or where we’ve been, we are our Father’s children.

His love, his mercy is the real way home. 

That is why the father runs to meet his son. 

The best robe. Sandals. A ring. The banquet. 

Over and over - the father shows us.

Where are we? Leaving home? 

The Father offers freedom. 

In the messiness of life? 

The Father waits patiently. 

Coming home? 

The Father runs to us. 

Finally home? 

The Father has prepared a banquet. 

It doesn’t matter where we are.

The Father always trusts his love for us

more than he does our words, decisions and actions. 

No matter how far away we’ve been.  It’s time to come home.

Come home this Lent.

The Father is waiting.

If you haven’t yet - make the time 

for a proper examination of conscience 

and good sacramental confession.

No matter where we’ve been,

or how long we’ve been away, 

the Father is waiting with open arms 

to welcome us back into his love, mercy and grace.

Waiting to celebrate and rejoice -

because we may have been lost

but at that moment, 

we will most certainly have been found.