“Who is there like you, the God who removes guilt and pardons sins . . . “   These words from the prophet Micah announce the theme woven throughout today’s readings—God’s extravagant mercy.  Echoing Pope Francis’s concept of the Church as a “field hospital,” tending to the wounds and brokenness of the people of God, the psalmist proclaims, “The Lord is kind and merciful.”  And the Gospel narrative tells the beloved parable of the prodigal son, where God’s mercy is abundant and transforming. Unique to Luke, this parable has a detailed plot and features three distinct characters: the younger, foolish son; the self-righteous, resentful older brother; and the loving, forgiving father.  Perhaps it is so well-known because every family can identify with some element of this story—teenage rebellion, disputed inheritance, alienation from a parent, the consequences of imprudent decisions, the remembrance of home when far away, the experience of coming to one’s senses, the need for repentance, the joy of reunion and the power of forgiveness.

In the first part of the parable, the younger son asks for his share of his father’s inheritance and, after receiving it, leaves home for a foreign land where he squanders all that he has.  Homeless and hungry, he repents, returns home, and is welcomed by his father who runs to him with outstretched arms offering love, mercy and forgiveness.  The father invites all to a party to celebrate because the son who was lost is now found, the one who was dead has now come back to life. In the second part of the narrative, the elder brother, who remained at home with his father, was faithful to his duty and obeyed the law, refuses to join in the celebration even though his father assures him “Everything I have is yours.”  This son is also lost to his father through alienation, bitterness, and envy of his brother.  He is self-righteous and judgmental, not understanding that the love of the father is freely given and not earned. Like the father in Luke’s story, our God is a God of mercy, compassion, and forgiveness.  He reaches out to the sinner just as the father runs to embrace his child even before the words of repentance can be spoken by the prodigal son.  In the same way, the father comforts the elder son, assures him of his love, and offers him acceptance and inclusion. 

Luke’s story is ultimately our own story and in the course of our spiritual journey we may be alternately the younger, prodigal son; the elder, resentful brother; and the loving, merciful father.  Take some quiet time to reflect on who you are in the story today. Do you need to “come to yourself” and return to your family of origin or faith community which nourished you as a child? Do you need to experience God’s love and forgiveness?  All you need to do is ask! Can you rejoice in God’s grace given freely to another and not judge the other’s actions or resent God’s extravagant mercy? Perhaps you need to reach out to an estranged family member with love, forgive the hurt he has caused you, and welcome him back with joy to the fold.

This Lent I give thanks for the mercy and compassion of our gracious God—unearned and undeserved—even as I am called to claim my status as beloved daughter and am empowered to extend His mercy and compassion to all, especially those most in need of God’s healing grace.  May I respond in love.