22 March 2025 - Saturday of the 2nd week of Lent
Mi 7, 14-15.18-20; Lk 15,1-3. 11-32
Homily
Once again, Jesus finds Himself caught between two groups of people. On the one hand, there were the tax collectors and sinners who came to listen to Him and whose hearts were often touched by His attitude as much as by His words; on the other hand, there were the Pharisees and scribes, who did not approve of His attitude at all. They accused Him not only of welcoming unbelievers, but even of eating with them.
The parable Jesus tells them has three main characters: "A man had two sons". The central character is not the minor son, the one we often call the prodigal son, although he is by no means a ‘child’. Rather, it is the father. The minor son, who asks for his share of the inheritance and then squanders it, represents the publicans and sinners who come to listen to Jesus, with whom He eats, and who are often converted by His contact. The eldest son, who refuses to share in the father's joy and to sit at table with his sinful brother, represents the Pharisees and scribes.
The first thing to do when listening to this parable is to compare the image we have of God with the one Jesus gives us of his Father. The first aim of the parable is to teach us who God is. And let's not delay in asking ourselves whether we are the prodigal son or the eldest son who wisely stayed at home. In reality, we are both, depending on the circumstances.
More than once we have experienced God's mercy when we returned to Him after each of our escapades. But haven't we often been scandalised by the way God welcomes those we consider to be "sinners"?
Let's take a closer look at what this parable tells us about each of the two sons. The prodigal son is an adult son, but he never stops thinking of his father as such. When he wants to leave, he says to him: "Father, give me my share of the inheritance". After going to waste his inheritance in a country far from the Father, where there was neither justice nor goodness, and after becoming a slave in a foreign land, he decided to return to his father. Even though he no longer feels worthy to be called a son, he continues to say "father": "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you."
As for the eldest son, at no point does he use the word "father"; he doesn't even think of himself as a son, but as a servant: "I have served you for so many years without ever disobeying your orders." Since he was not really a son, he could not understand a father's attitude. For him, the only response to sin is punishment, the only response to flight is the denial of any possibility of return.
Although mankind has always known violence, it seems that today it has entered into a madder-than-ever race to respond to violence with greater violence, based on all kinds of ideologies, often religious. Only the revelation of the Father of Jesus Christ, prodigal in mercy, can help our poor humanity to break this diabolical cycle of violence. Let us be the messengers of this revelation by incarnating it in our everyday lives.