*****
"This man welcomes sinners and eats with them..."
Thus is the resentment leveled against Jesus in today’s selection from the Gospel of Luke. In response, Jesus proceeds to tell the Pharisees and scribes a parable: the parable of the prodigal son.
The word “prodigal” is defined as “rashly or wastefully extravagant.” Well, that certainly describes the younger son to a tee. After all, he demands an inheritance (to which, as the younger son, he was not entitled) and promptly blows his entire fortune – with all of his supposed friends – on irresponsible living.
The word “prodigal” is also defined as “lavish in giving.” Well, that certainly describes the father. After all, not only does he not rub his younger son’s face in his failure – or treat him like a slave - but he also welcomes him back, forgives him, and restores his place and position in the family.
The word “prodigal” is also defined as “lavish in yielding.” Well, that certainly describes the older son, or more to the point, the older son’s struggle. The story ends with the father begging the older brother to let go of his resentment – to set aside his anger – toward his younger brother’s return as well as toward his father’s lavish celebration of the younger brother’s return.
Taken together, Jesus is the ultimate “Prodigal Son.” What could be more yielding than Jesus’ willingness to take on the fullness of our humanity? What could be more lavish than Jesus’ teaching, preaching, forgiving, and healing day in and day out? What could be more extravagant than Jesus’ laying down his very life for us?
It turns out that – as far as God is concerned – there are many ways of being extravagant, lavish, giving, and yielding in our His “prodigal” sons and daughter today?
*****
“The man believed what Jesus said to him...”
In today’s Gospel, a royal official – whose name we never learn – asked Jesus to save his son, who was apparently near death. Obviously, this was going to involve some traveling on Jesus’ part (upwards to a full day, as it turned out!), insofar as the official asked Jesus to “come down” – presumably, to their home – and heal his son. Much to the surprise of the official, Jesus simply tells him – without making the trip to actually visit the boy – that his son has already been saved. And the official “believed what Jesus said to him.” In other words, he took Jesus at his word…and headed home.
You don’t think it’s a big deal? Then put yourself in the official’s position. Can you imagine what was going through his mind, minutes - then hours - after beginning his long walk back home? He had lots of time to second-guess his decision to simply believe Jesus’ statement. “What was I thinking about?” “Am I crazy?” “Should I have insisted that he come with me?” “Was I stupid to believe him?” “What if my son has died by the time I get home?” “Did I let my son – and my family – down?” “Have I failed?”
Talk about faith! A faith, as it turns out, for which he and his entire family were richly rewarded.
St. Francis de Sales once wrote:
“Believe me, God who has led you up until now will continue to hold you in His blessed hand, but you must throw yourself into the arms of His providence with complete trust and forgetfulness of self, now is the right time. Almost everyone can manage to trust God in the sweetness and peace of prosperity, but only His children can put their trust in Him when storms and tempests rage: I mean to put their trust in Him with complete self-abandonment.” (Select Salesian Subjects, 0130, p. 28)
When it comes to “complete trust and forgetfulness of self” the standard doesn’t get much higher than the one set by the royal official in today’s Gospel.
How does our trust in God today – especially in the midst of our own “storms and tempests” – measure up?
*****
“Remind yourself that the graces and benefits of prayer are not like water welling up from the earth, but more like water coming down from heaven; therefore, all our efforts cannot produce them, though it is true that we must ready ourselves to receive them with great care, yet humbly and peacefully. We must keep our hearts open and wait for the heavenly dew to fall.” (LSD, p. 100)
Regardless of whether it flows up from the earth or falls down from the heavens, what’s more important is to remind ourselves that the water of God’s love is welling up inside each and every one of us and is meant to be shared with all those around us. Today let it flow!*****
“The Lord is gracious and merciful…”
Gracious. Merciful. These two attributes are deemed synonymous with God in today’s responsorial psalm. And as it turns out, these same attributes – and others like them – are very much a part of the Salesian tradition.
In the book Francis de Sales, Jane de Chantal – Letters of Spiritual Direction, we read:
“Chief among the Salesian virtues – and the one that belongs distinctively to this tradition, rather than to the wider contemplative heritage – is douceur. A difficult term to translate, douceur has been rendered in English as ‘sweetness,’ ‘gentleness,’ ‘graciousness,’ ‘meekness,' and ‘suavity.’ None of these translations do it full justice. Douceur is a quality of person that corresponds to the light burden offered by the Matthean Jesus to those otherwise heavily laden. It connotes an almost maternal quality of serving others that is swathed in tender concern. Salesian douceur also suggests a sense of being grace-filled and graceful in the broadest use of the term. This gracefulness extends from external demeanor – polite manners and convivial disposition – to the very quality of a person’s heart, that is, the way in which a person is interiorly ordered and disposed…stressing the harmony, beauty, and grace of the whole person and which De Sales saw as reflecting the beauty and harmony of God.” (pp. 63-64)
God is indeed gracious and insofar as we are made in God’s image and likeness, how can we imitate that graciousness today in the hope of reflecting something in our own lives of “the beauty and harmony of God?”
*****
“I see how stiff-necked these people are…”
Regardless of what words you use – stiff-necked, obstinate, bull-headed, strong-willed – all of us have at least one thing in common with the Israelites described in today’s selection from the Book of Exodus.
Stubbornness!
In a letter to Peronne-Marie de Chatel (one of the three women who joined Jane de Chantal at the first Visitation in 1610), Francis de Sales wrote:
“Truly, you are right when you say there are in you two men, or rather, two women. One is a certain Peronne who is a bit touchy, resentful and ready to flare up if anyone crosses her; this is the Peronne who is a daughter of Eve and therefore bad-tempered. The other is a certain Peronne-Marie who fully intends to belong totally to God, and who, in order to be all His, wants to be most simply humble and humbly gentle toward everyone; this is the Peronne-Marie who is a daughter of the glorious Virgin Mary and therefore of good disposition. These two daughters of different mothers fight each other. The good-for-nothing one is so mean that the good one has a hard time defending herself; afterward, the poor dear thinks she has been beaten and that the wicked one is stronger than she. Not at all, my poor dear Peronne-Marie! The wicked one is not stronger than you, but she is more brazen, perverse, unpredictable and stubborn...” (LSD, pp. 164-165)
Most days we already have enough on our plates trying to deal with our own stubbornness without even considering the stubbornness of others. In what ways are we stiff-necked? What are the issues and concerns about which we are obstinate? What are the things about which we are bull-headed? How does our stubbornness get in the way of our relationships with God and others, and perhaps, even my relationship with myself? Yes, there’s something of both “Peronne-Marie’s” inside each and every one of us. Which one will get the upper hand today?*****
“We must often recall that our Lord has saved us by his suffering and endurance and that we must work out our salvation by sufferings and afflictions, enduring with all possible meekness the injuries, denials, and discomforts we meet.” (IDL, Part III, Chapter 3, p. 128)
Perish the thought, but it is possible that someone you encounter today may find you to be obnoxious. Of course, that could be because you are doing something wrong. On the other hand, it could be because you are doing something right. That’s unfortunate, because in a perfect world doing the right thing would never be obnoxious to anyone.
Of course, this isn’t a perfect world!
*****
"Have any of the authorities or the Pharisees believed in him?"
We addressed this yesterday, but some things bear repeating. In his Introduction to the Devout Life, Francis de Sales wrote:
“We must often recall that our Lord has saved us by His suffering and endurance and that we must work out our salvation by sufferings and afflictions, enduring with all possible meekness the injuries, denials and discomforts we meet.” (IDL, Part III, Chapter 3, p. 128)
The unvarnished anger, resentment and jealously of the Pharisees is on public display in today’s Gospel. Not satisfied with merely bad-mouthing Jesus, they also ridicule anyone who would have the audacity to believe – that is, to accept – Jesus’ message. Their blind, smug belief in themselves – and their disdain for the common man – render the Pharisees totally impervious to considering how God’s plan of salvation might differ from their preconceived notions of God’s plan, to say nothing of Jesus’ role in it. Even Nicodemus – one of their own – gets thrown under the bus for daring to suggest that they should reconsider their perspective; or, at the very least, they should give Jesus a fair hearing.
Yesterday, we considered how others might find us obnoxious for doing what is right. Today, we might ask ourselves this question: do we ever find people who do the right thing obnoxious to us?
The truth is there might be something of the Pharisees in all of us.
