The Frighteningly Extravagant Mercy of God
March 18, 2007

Readings for the 4th Sunday of Lent

Reading 1: Josh. 5:9a, 10–12

Responsorial Psalm: Ps. 34:2–3, 4–5, 6–7

Reading 2: 2 Cor. 5:17–21

Gospel: Lk. 15:1–3, 11–32

Link to Readings

By Father David Poecking

The story warms our hearts: The prodigal son abandons his father’s house, runs off to spend his inheritance having fun, goes bankrupt, realizes he’d live more comfortably at home, and so he goes home, where he is cheerfully welcomed back by his father. Aw, isn’t that sweet.

The problem is that the younger son is not really a lovable rascal. Today, we might be tempted indulge the prodigal son: Our society expects children to move away from their parents and go off on their own to make their way in life, so the prodigal son of Jesus’ story seems like a sporting fellow—perhaps a little immature, but likable nonetheless.

That’s not how Jesus meant it. The younger son is more than just a playful sinner. In Jesus’ time and place, family life took the highest earthly priority: To honor one’s parents and ancestors, to serve the household, was the greatest worldly success possible.

But the younger son of Jesus’ story turns away from his father. He demands his inheritance, forcing the family to sell off half the land and animals—land and animals that might otherwise be used to generate crops and wool and meat and milk, feeding and clothing and enriching the family, relatives, servants, and all their families for generations to come.

As the landlord’s son he enjoyed a noble estate, but he disregards his responsibilities, insults his family, and diminishes them forever. He has betrayed their very way of life. The closest parallel with someone in today’s United States would probably be a politician who moves to Afghanistan to join al-Qaeda, or a priest who betrays the Gospel and scorns the sacraments—people who do shockingly offensive things, who betray all reasonable expectations of society. The younger son has committed a major offense against the community, causing permanent harm.

Jesus directs this story at older sons, not younger sons. At other times when Jesus spoke to younger-son types, prodigal sinners, He was forgiving, but He also called them urgently to repentance. Here Jesus doesn’t bother much with that, because right now He’s preaching to older-son types, people who regard themselves as more-or-less decent folks, people who practice their religion properly.

We older-son types are in danger of remaining aloof from bigger sinners. We want to be rewarded by God for not being as bad as the others, and when we see how gratuitously God blesses the prodigal sinners, we might be tempted to resent God and sinners both for not treating us better.

Jesus tells this story not to warm our hearts with sweet tales of forgiveness, but to disturb us with the frighteningly extravagant mercy of God. Jesus warns us that God may very well forgive the people we hate the most, forcing us to make a difficult choice on Judgment Day: Forgive our enemies, enter heaven with them, and learn to love them, or hold our grudge against them, and watch them enter heaven while we descend to hell.

If we practice holding grudges, considering how others have sinned more than we ourselves have sinned, we may find it hard to change our mind on Judgment Day. Let’s practice now, practice forgiving those who most offend us, practice celebrating the forgiveness of those who repent.

Father David Poecking is a priest of the Diocese of Pittsburgh.

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