The Prodigality of God’s Love and Mercy (Saturday, Lent 2)

Micah is one of those prophets who absolutely denounced idolatry and seriously challenged the corrupt and scandalous lifestyles of the priests, the wealthy and the politicians. Having seen that those who were appointed to shepherd the people of God were not doing their job, the prophet pleaded with God to “shepherd His own people who dwell alone in a forest in the midst of a garden” (cf. Micah 7:14).

 “Dwelling alone in a forest in the midst of a garden” is a metaphorical way of saying that the people of Israel were seriously steeped in sin despite their privileged position as the chosen people: they had everything at their beck and call to be better; but in actual fact, they were not. They had the laws, the priests and the prophets; but still lacked spiritual nourishment. To spur the people to repent and come back to God, Micah reminded them that “God does not retain his anger for ever because He delights in mercy”. This statement alone must have encouraged the people to seek the face of God.

The Parable of the Prodigal Son (cf. Luke 15) further testifies to God’s mercy and forgiveness. In fact, the parable is better called the “Parable of the Forgiving Father” because it highlights more the forgiveness of the father than the sinfulness of the prodigal son. First, the son asked for his own share of the father’s property. In the Jewish culture, a man’s property can’t be shared amongst the children until he dies. So, by asking for his own share, the younger son literally wished his father death. Secondly, he went into a far country thereby disowning his father and disconnecting from the family. Having spent all that he had, he finally landed himself in a piggery where he was feeding pigs. It’s unimaginable that a Jew could reduce himself to such a state, for the Jewish law stipulates that “cursed is he who feeds pigs” (Lev. 11:7). Not only did he feed pigs, he was feeding even from the feeds meant for the pigs. This is what sin does to us: it makes us miserable and reduces us to a state that we can never be proud of.

When the prodigal son came back to his senses, he thought of going back to his father, thinking of offering himself to his father as a hired laborer, not as a son. An interesting part of this story is that the father was joyfully waiting for his return. When he finally returned, instead of being rebuked, he rather experienced an affectionate outpouring of love that he never expected. He was given the best robe, a signet ring and the best of shoes: the best robe stands for honour, a signet ring stands for authority and the best of shoes stands for sonship (best of shoes is only meant for sons, not for slaves or servants).

Rather than thinking so much about our sinful prodigality, it will be more fruitful and helpful if we think more about the prodigality of God’s love and mercy. No right-thinking person can engage in a tiresome task of searching for pebbles that are cast to the depths of the sea. Whenever we sincerely repent, God casts our sins into the depths of the ocean. What it means is that whenever we repent, God forgives and forgets.

In addressing the Pharisees who murmured because he was associating with sinners, Jesus also tells us that we can as well find ourselves in the position of the first son in that parable. Some of us might have been serving and obeying God not out of loving service but out of reluctant disposition to duty. Our attitude may be that of utter lack of sympathy for those who are struggling with serious sins. And we may have a peculiarly nasty mind in relating with such people. And that was why the first son described the brother who went astray as someone who had wasted the father’s wealth on harlots. He was the only that mentioned that as if he was there with him. May God help us as we evaluate our lives in line with this parable, Amen! 

Prayer:

Thanks, O Lord, for your graciousness, love, compassion and mercy. Help me to be more patient, tolerant and sympathetic with others, Amen!

Have a fruitful Lenten journey!