[Salvation]

 

24^th Sunday:  Are you lost?

 

(Tissot: The Good Shepherd)

"I have found my lost sheep . . ."

Sunday readings: http://usccb.org/bible/readings/091513.cfm

 

Ex 32: 7-11, 13-14

I Tim 1: 12-17
Lk 15: 1-32

Have you ever been lost? Maybe as a child or driving in a car futilely looking for an address only to find that your ever reliable GPS has led you astray? Or maybe you lost the keys to your house or your car?  “St. Anthony, help me find those keys!”  

 

God forbid the horror parents would suffer should they lose one of their own children. Why do we often become so distraught when losing our cell phone, house/car keys, or become frustrated when we can’t find our way?  Because we place so much value on the object we have lost or the important destination that we are desperately searching for or the precious value of that person in our lives.  If we find the object of our search, we rejoice!  In the case of loved ones, our lives are whole again and we may indeed feel reconciled to the one who wandered away. So, maybe the greatest find is that of coming home. After a long period of travel it’s always great to come home.  Your own bed suddenly feels like a luxurious pillow top mattress.  

 

This Sunday our scriptures clearly deal with the lost and found.  Yet, it is more about the nature of a God who is merciful and forgiving; about a God who searches out the lost.

 

The lost coin, the wandering sheep, and the father who waits with patience and hope that his wayward son would return home all indicate to us the very nature of our God.  Still, how can one coin be so valuable beyond the value of all the others that one would, “. . . light a lamp and sweep the house, searching carefully until she finds it . . .?” (Lk 15)

 

Or what’s the big deal about, “. . . losing one (sheep) . . .” when you still have ninety-nine more? What kind of shepherd would, “. . . leave the ninety-nine in the desert and go after the lost one until he finds it? . . .” In doing so he leaves the group unprotected as he wanders off to look for the lost one. 

"Ok, whose missing??"

 

Or what kind of parent would tolerate the extreme bad and disrespectful behavior of an ungrateful son who insults his own father, then wanders off to squander the money his father gave to him? As the son comes to his senses, how many fathers would be sitting day and night focused on the hopeful return of their son.  When he does return, they “. . . ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him . . .” Then they throw a party on his return! Through God’s eyes we see far more.

 

In our first reading from Exodus we hear of a “stiff-necked” (stubborn) people.  God is furious with the Hebrews who seem to have forgotten who their true God is for them.  They have made a false idol, a molten calf and offered worship to this thing over the true living God who rescued them from the Egyptians.  He wants to let his, “. . . wrath blaze up against them to consume them . . .” What an ungrateful lot!

 

However, Moses appeals to God to chill out for a moment and reminds God of his faithful servants of the past: Abraham, Isaac, and Israel who received God’s promise (covenant) of fidelity to his “stiff-necked” people.  Why would God now destroy the object of his love and generosity? It is a very human view of God’s “wrath,” though God’s anger is not to be dismissed.  Yet, it certainly makes the point that the nature of God is to show mercy and forgiveness because even the stiff-necked ones remain precious in God’s eyes.

 

So, it seems clear these images of sheep, coins, a wandering son, and a stubborn short-sighted people remind us that God desires all be gathered into his love and find their way home to him which illustrate the mystery of God’s infinite desire that all be saved by his grace.   

 

How do you feel about a God who appears so blind to bad behavior or a God who whose seemingly risks the safety of others in order to go after the one that is lost? The God which Jesus teaches us cares about all with an infinite mercy and love that is beyond what we mortal humans can do.

 

Jesus reminds us, though, that despite God’s apparent tolerance of our irresponsible or stubborn behavior to control our own lives and dismiss him, we still have some mending to do.  The merciful father in the parable loved his son completely and rejoiced at his return.   But, the damage done cannot be ignored and taking an active part in reconciliation is essential.

 

When we have done harm to another or to ourselves or ignored the importance of our spiritual life, what must I do to reconcile?  In practical terms, who must I seek forgiveness from?  What sort of restitution must I offer?  What spirit must I embrace to find forgiveness through the Sacrament of Reconciliation? What lesson should I learn about conversion?    

 

God cares about the lost in particular and through his cross and resurrection, has sacrificed absolutely everything in order to have us reconciled with him and each other.  Our Eucharist remembers this great act on the part of God and seeks our response of love and humility.  

Look upon us, O God,
creator and ruler of all things,
and, that we may feel the working of your mercy,
grant that we may serve you with all our heart.

(Roman Missal: Collect for Sunday)

[Salvation]

Insight Scoop

The Parable of the Perfect Father

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, September 15, 2013 | Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Ex 32:7-11, 13-14
• Ps 51:3-4, 12-13, 17, 19
• 1 Tim 1:12-17
• Lk 15:1-32

The parable of the prodigal son is well known, arguably the most famous of Jesus’ parables. Yet, as Scripture scholar Joachim Jeremias states in The Parables of Jesus (New York, 1963), it “might more correctly be called the parable of the Father’s Love…”, for it is a powerful and unforgettable depiction of God’s love and mercy.

While the two sons are decidedly human—sinful, self-centered, materialistic—the father exhibits a serene, pervasive holiness that reveals the heart of the heavenly Father. In Dives in misericordia, his encyclical on the mercy of God, Pope John Paul II noted that although the word “mercy” doesn’t appear in the famous parable, “it nevertheless expresses the essence of the divine mercy in a particularly clear way.” Read carefully, the parable offers a wealth of insight into our relationship with our heavenly Father; it offers a glimpse of the Father’s face. But it also is a mirror that confronts us with our own distorted priorities and self-centered attitudes.

For example, the younger son’s request for his share of the estate was not just an impulsive, youthful demand for autonomy, but a harsh renunciation of his father. In essence, his demand was a way of publicly declaring, “I wish you were dead!” The son, wrote St. Peter Chrysologus, “is weary of his father’s own life. Since he cannot shorten his father’s life, he works to get possession of his property.” In rejecting his father and the life-giving communion he once had with him, he lost the privilege of being a son and embarked upon a calamitous course.

As a father myself, I think it is safe to say that most ordinary fathers would have objected to the son’s request, even refused to consider it. Yet our heavenly Father does not object; he respects our freedom—his great gift to us—even when we use it to rebel against him. So the father divided up the property; in doing so, grace was destroyed and communion was severed. The familial bond was broken, and the son took his money into the “far country,” a reference to a place of utter emptiness and spiritual desolation.

“What is farther away,” asked St. Ambrose, “then to depart from oneself, and not from a place? … Surely whoever separates himself from Christ is an exile from his country, a citizen of the world” The physical distance was not as painful as the loss of familial love and embrace; the son’s inner life vanished as quickly as did his inheritance. He is soon faced with eating unclean swill while tending unclean animals, the swine.

How did the son come to his senses? An answer can be found in today’s epistle, in which St. Paul confesses his sins of blasphemy, persecution, and arrogance, and explains he has “been mercifully treated because I acted out of ignorance in my unbelief.” By God’s grace he—a prodigal son—recognized his sinfulness. Confronted by Christ on the dusty road to Damascus, he experienced divine grace and mercy.

The prodigal son knew his father had every right to disown him, to consider him dead and gone. But he was willing to admit his sin and become a nameless hired hand. Yet, even as he tried to articulate a cry for mercy, he was wrapped in mercy—held, kissed, clothed, and restored to life. Having walked away in petulant selfishness, the son had embraced death; having been embraced by his patient and compassionate father, he was restored to life.

John Paul II explained that God is not just Creator, but “He is also Father: He is linked to man, whom He called to existence in the visible world, by a bond still more intimate than that of creation. It is love which not only creates the good but also grants participation in the very life of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. For he who loves desires to give himself.” The merciful Father waits for the dead, eager to clothe them with new life.

(This is "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the September 12, 2010, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)