Homily - Fourth Sunday of Lent – 3/21/04

 

An elderly man on the beach found a magic lamp.  He picked it up, and a genie appeared.  “Because you have freed me,” the genie said, “I will grant you a wish.”

 

The man thought for a moment and then responded.  “My brother and I had a fight thirty years ago, and he hasn’t spoken to me since.  I wish that he’ll finally forgive me.”

 

There was a thunderclap, and the genie declared, “Your wish has been granted.  You know,” the genie continued, “most people would have asked for wealth or fame.  But you only wanted the love of your brother.  Is it because you are old and dying?”

 

“No way!” the man cried. “But my brother is, and he’s worth about $60 million.”

 

That’s one illustration of reconciliation. But here is a more edifying one.

 

Elsa Joseph was a Jewish woman who was cut off from her two children, both girls, during the Second World War.  Years later, she discovered that both of her daughters had been gassed at Auschwitz.  A former concert violinist, Elsa’ response to this tragic news was to pick up her violin and go and play it in Germany.  And there in the halls of the homeland of her children’s murderers, she played her violin and told her story that cried out to heaven for vengeance.  But she did not seek vengeance.  She spoke of the world’s deep need for reconciliation and forgiveness, without which it was tearing itself apart.

 

“If I, a Jewish mother, can forgive what happened,” she said to her audiences not only in Germany, but in Northern Ireland and in Lebanon and in Israel, “then why can you not sink your differences and be reconciled to one another?”

 

Our readings for this Fourth Sunday in Lent reminds us, challenge us, confront us with the reality of our God who is overwhelmingly merciful and compassionate – and forgiving.

For us to really understand what the first reading is about we need really to recall all that God done for the people – God has continually worked to save the people, to free the people, to feed the people. And time and time again the people have grumbled and complained and felt that they did not have enough. And still God continued to bring them to the place that we read about in the first reading. God brings them home and they feast on the produce of the land. God has brought them full circle – and has done it pretty much by God’s self.  The image is of a God who desperately wants the people to be saved and free and happy in spite of themselves.

 

And then Paul in his letter to the Corinthians reminds his readers that God has worked to reconcile us to God – God wants us to be in communication – to be one – to be not estranged. We so often, so many of us, feel as if we are far from God – alienated from God and can not approach God. But God has done the radical thing in using Jesus – God’s son to be the means of this reconciliation – this unity. Jesus’ whole action was to make sure that we knew how much we were loved so that in fact we would not stay estranged.

 

And finally we have our familiar story of the Prodigal Son.

The son was “prodigal” in the sense that he was extravagant – he took his money and spent it wildly. He took his freedom and did what he wanted with it.  He was excessive. And finally when he realized that he had blown the whole thing he was, in a sense, just as excessive in deciding to take the big chance and head home- risking exclusion and abuse and anger and hatred. Most people might have a tendency to run the other way!

 

But of course the one who is really “prodigal”, excessive, wild and crazy is the father!

He wants his son home so badly – he loves him so greatly – he wants reconciliation so much that he overlooks all his son’s excessiveness and craziness and drags him back home. He doesn’t ask for any recompense – he doesn’t want promises of faithfulness – he doesn’t expect anything at all. He is so excessive in his love and forgiveness that he feasts him as if he had been the most faithful, loving, caring, and good as gold son. But all the boy had done was turn around and face him. All the boy had done was aim toward reconciliation.

 

Of course we can understand the other son. His is the more reasoned approach. He is much more frugal. Be frugal is the opposite of being prodigal.

Would his brother sign off on any further ownership of the farm?

Would he complete a rehab program to cure his addiction to excessiveness?

Would he complete some hours of service to the family as a sign of repentance?

Would he realize that he had to prove himself– gain some trust – indicate how he would act as a family member?

But while the older son was thinking of the program of re-entry for his brother – the conditions of renewal and rehabilitation his father was hanging the party lights!

 

And so, of course, Jesus tells us once again that if we are going to build the reign of God, if we are going to create the new world that he would inaugurate we got to be just as prodigal as the father in the story. And certainly Jesus illustrated this excessiveness. He didn’t have expectations of the tax collectors that he wined and dined with – he didn’t set up programs for rehab for the people he cured – he didn’t ask much of anyone he included – he only wanted them to face him and to join him in the building of the new way.

 

And of course Jesus annoyed everyone by his excessive love and desire for oneness. How dare he not be careful!  How dare he let everyone home!

 

The truth is that if we look even in recent history we realize that the only people who seem to make a difference – create some real movement toward the reign of God – who actually give a glimpse of peace and brotherhood and sisterhood are people who were quite prodigal – excessive – maybe thought of as crazy.

 

There were those crazy women in the ‘70s in Ireland – Mairead Corrigan and Betty Williams – a Protestant and a Catholic in Northern Ireland who said they couldn’t take the killing anymore and so they’d take some crazy chances for peace. People noticed them. They couldn’t help.

 

Or Yitzhak Rabin in Israel who sat and talked with Palestinians when no Jew would and with Egyptians and anyone else who would be willing to sit and look at him and wonder about building peace.

 

And Nelson Mandela who suffered in all sorts of ways for years and years and when finally apartheid ends and he is frees insists that the only way was to forgive those who had harmed him – to reconcile with those who were the bitter enemy.

 

And Martin Luther King and Ghandi. And some others – not many but some – who excessively desire peace and unity and love and accord that they are willing to put down their own expectations and boundaries and look at the other.

 

We can look at places like the Catholic Worker houses and see people who welcome the homeless, the hungry whatever the reason they are homeless and hungry and they feed them and clothes them and love them.  Their radical, prodigal love expects no program or promise or change or commitment. They just love.

 

Of course we could say that Corrigan and Williams and Rabin and the others haven’t brought about peace. And Rabin and King and Ghandi were killed most likely because their radical love annoyed people so much.

But their words and actions, their love and desire for reconciliation – a desire matched by the God we believe in – looked more like Jesus love and plan of action than any military budget or arms program. And it can be argued that their actions moved us closer to the reign of God.

 

And so we are challenged on this fourth Sunday in Lent to wonder where we are. Can we put down barriers and run toward the others in our lives radically loving?

Or are we planning like the older brother on how it can happen and what needs to be arranged for reconciliation to happen?

Are we looking for the reason not to love – a person’s past or present situation perhaps?

A person’s addiction or sexual orientation or attitude or temperament or color or economic situation? Do we find reasons not to go running toward the other as the prodigal father did? Or are we willing to put up the party lights and celebrate our possibilities together – our common destiny as God’s children – our exhalted positions as children of a loving, overwhelmingly merciful, forgiving God.

 

Our Gospel – our Lord and Savior Jesus tells us that the only way we can really deal with one another and heal one another and love one another is the same way our God deals with us – put a ring the their finger, invite them to diner, or at the very least run to greet them with a hug and a kiss while they are still far off.