TODAY, Sunday, is also known as “the Sunday of the Five Loaves,” from the traditional Gospel reading for the day. Before the adoption of the modern “common” lectionaries, the Gospel reading for today in the Lutheran, Anglican, Roman Catholic, Western-rite Orthodox and Old Catholic churches is the story of the miracle of the loaves and fishes.
In the Roman Catholic, Anglican and some Protestant traditions, there may be flowers on the high altar, the organ may be played as a solo instrument and priests are given the option to wear rose-colored vestments at Mass today, in place of the violet vestments normally worn during Lent.
It is a day of relaxation from normal Lenten rigor, a day of hope with Easter within sight. Traditionally, even weddings (otherwise banned during Lent) could be performed on this day.
“O, be joyful… !” This is the opening line of this Sunday’s introit. Like Gaudete Sunday or the Third Sunday of Advent, Laetare Sunday or the Fourth Sunday of Lent is a “break” from the preparatory period of penance and repentance for the great feast of Easter.
I find Laetare Sunday more “intriguing.”
Advent, though a time of preparation marked by penance and repentance, is in great anticipation of a singularly joyful feast, Christmas. Thus, the “break” on Gaudete Sunday is not as dramatic as this Sunday.
Laetare Sunday invites us to pause and reflect on the depth of our Christian faith. Especially in the context of Philippine culture and Catholicism, which is very Spanish in origin, we tend to emphasize the Good Friday event. Easter is somewhat downplayed.
In other traditions, for example, the American Catholic and Christian churches, Easter is the bigger and main feast or celebration.
But it’s not like one is right and the other is erroneous. It is also not a question of emphasis. Both represent the truth of our Christian faith, and they are best brought together. Each represents the richness and depth of the perfect love of God, and highlights different aspects of one love.
The Cross and Resurrection event or the Paschal Mystery is not just the climax of Lent and Holy Week—it is the central mystery of our Christian faith.
Back in grade school, I remember my religion teacher explaining salvation history on the blackboard. He drew a representation of Christ, his Cross and Resurrection in the middle of the three-panel board. Then he drew a funnel from left to right, narrowing into the figure and then another funnel starting from the figure of Christ’s Cross and Resurrection, going again from left to right, now opening wider as it got to the right side.
Then he explained that before the Cross and the Resurrection, everything was moving or tending toward Christ’s Cross and Resurrection event and everything after this emanated from it.
For a grade school student, this was a wow moment. As we would exclaim, “Cool!”
This Sunday gives us the “cool” side of our Christian faith. It is a message that our faith is a joyful faith, that the final word is joy and life, not suffering and death. But, as in all good endings, the challenge is between now and the ending.
Today’s beautiful Gospel (Luke 15: 1-3, 11-32) gives us the roadmap to get to the end of the journey. The Parable of the Prodigal Son, which used to be called the Parable of the Forgiving (or Merciful) Father, gives a vivid portrayal of God’s forgiving and merciful love.
Christ, through this story, weaves a dramatic tale of God’s forgiving love. This love is shown not just once, but twice: with the prodigal son and the older son. Before we talk about the two types of sons or sinners, in other words, us, let us take note of some qualities of the father’s love.
Clearly the father here is the epitome of unconditional love. He is generous and giving, not holding back anything that was his from his sons. At the same time he completely respects their freedom. When the younger son, who becomes the prodigal one, asks for his share of the estate and goes his own way, the father readily lets him do as he pleased.
The father’s consent is total and unconditional. When this son fumbles and messes up, the father continues respecting his freedom and still does not interfere.
But we also note that when the son returns and is still a long way off, his father sees him and is moved with compassion. He runs to his son, embraces him and kisses him.
This is an admirable respect for the other person’s freedom. This is a love that is life-giving, because it is forgiving. More than this, it is the total respect for the other’s freedom under all conditions that makes the father’s love so great.
This is the same love God showers on us. It is a life-giving love that allows us the freedom to make choices and waits for us all the time. Whether we do well or not, this love waits for us and is ready to embrace and kiss us as we come home.
We will get back to this love later and look at how it restores the son and builds a network of compassion.
Let us look at the two sons, the types of sinners, the two types of us.
The younger son seems like the more evil of the two. He gets his money and lives a “life of dissipation.” The older son is the more dutiful. He, in his words, “served you (his father) and not once did I disobey your orders.”
The difference between the two sons is like night and day. It is the difference between sinner and “saint.”
Clearly, the prodigal son is the more admirable of the two because he is humbled by his mistakes. This allows him to discover his father’s forgiving love.
The older son does the right things for the wrong reason or reasons. It is self-centered obedience.
I would often tell younger seminarians that the grace we really need to pray for is the grace of humility and the grace of gratitude. There is no greater pitfall than the ego, and these graces are the best antidotes to the ego’s venom.
We see in the older son the insidious character of the ego. The ego disguises itself as good work and obedience. The older son is so full of himself that he does not even feel any sense of joy and gratitude that his brother who “was dead and has come to life again.”
He also doesn’t feel joy for his father—who he claims he obeyed and served all these years—for having his “dead son” back again.
The prodigal son’s undoing becomes his redemption. He has to hit rock bottom to come to his senses. He returns home, humbled, and part of the humility is trusting his father’s fairness and compassion. Part of the humility is taking responsibility for his faults. Forgiveness starts here.
Notice how the son has no sense of entitlement. He accepts his failures and sins, and considers himself unworthy to be called a son. He goes home to be with his father as a servant.
The parable is truly an excellent roadmap that will show us the way to the joy of the Paschal Mystery, the Cross and the Resurrection. It guides us through what is one of the trickiest and most insidious parts of the journey—the snares of the ego. It guides us back home to who we are, our dignity and identity as sons and daughters of God.
This is the love most powerfully expressed in the Cross and Resurrection. This is the final word, God’s love that becomes the source of our greatest and deepest freedom. It is the love that gives us the freedom to choose and to make mistakes.
It is the love that gives us the freedom to suffer because of our choices. It is the love that gives us the freedom to choose to return home—humbled and repentant. At this point, it is the love that frees us from the ego.
“I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers.” This is great freedom from the self, as Ignatius of Loyola would say.
This freedom from the self is just the starting point. The greater freedom comes from the father, from God, as the father restores the prodigal son to his dignity as son, the father also builds a network of compassion.
He mobilizes his entire household, the entire community for a returning member, a returning son, who was dead and is now back to life.
This is Christian joy. It is a joy at its best when we experience the freedom of the sons and daughters of the Father; when we, too, share in the grace of the Father’s pronouncement: “This is my Beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.”
This is the Paschal Mystery we prepare for Lent and celebrate come Holy Week. On the Cross and in the Resurrection is the fullness of God’s grace for us to be His beloved sons and daughters in whom He is well pleased.
Today, Laetare Sunday, we are reminded that the final word is joy and life. No, the final word is not just joy and life, but joy and life that come from God’s love; a love, in the words of St. Paul: “I have been crucified with Christ; yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me; insofar as I now live in faith, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself up for me.” (Galatians 2: 19-20)
“O, be joyful… !” Our sins are forgiven—yesterday, today and forever by the “Son of God who loved me and gave himself up for me.”