Fourth Sunday of Lent Reflections . . .

 

Dianne Bergant, CSA

Readings:
Joshua 5:9a, 10-12
Psalm 34:2-3, 4-5, 6-7.
2 Corinthians 5:17-21
Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

 

 

 

Rejoice!

It may seem strange that in the middle of Lent we are told to rejoice. The reason for this is not that we might have a breather from the rigors of penance. (How many of us are really even experiencing any rigors?) Rather, this moment of rejoicing fittingly follows the fundamental theme found in the readings for the other Sundays of this season, that theme being – the goodness of God. The versicle for the responsorial psalm might be used as a response to each of the three readings: “Taste and see the goodness of the LORD.”

In the first reading, we are reminded of how God cared for the Israelites while they were in the wilderness. They had accused God of bringing them out of Egypt so that they might die of hunger in the wilderness. And how did God respond? With punishment? No! The reading tells us that God fed them with mysterious bread that they called ‘manna.’ The people of Joshua’s time had at last arrived in the land of promise. They had been delivered from the reproach of Egypt, and they were now enjoying the produce of the land. They celebrated Passover in memory of God’s graciousness to their ancestors and to them. Their celebration was a way of rejoicing.

Paul tells the Corinthian converts that they are a new creation, made so through the blood of Christ. It was the unbounded love of God that was manifested in Christ. In a similar manner, it was the unbounded love of Christ, symbolized by the shedding of his blood, that had reconciled them with God and made them righteous. This is certainly reason to rejoice. In this reading, they do not offer sacrifice, as did the Israelites of Joshua’s time. Instead, the Corinthians are directed to act as agents of reconciliation throughout the entire world. In this way, they shared in God’s plan of salvation.

The gospel reading is one of the best-known and most striking examples of divine graciousness. Though traditionally known as the parable of the prodigal son, it describes the prodigality of the father. He is the one who seems to go to extremes in showering gifts on his repentant son. The theme of reconciliation, so prominent in the passage from Paul, is certainly evident here. It is the father, who in this parable represents God, who takes steps to be reconciled not only with the wayward son but also with the elder son who was dependable but unforgiving. As the loving father insists: “We must celebrate and rejoice.”

In the responsorial psalm we see the psalmist’s profound gratitude to God, and we hear the way this gratitude is expressed in rejoicing and praise. Having been delivered from fear, the psalmist both praises God and urges others to turn to God so that they too might be delivered and then praise God. Thus, the psalmist is acting as an agent of reconciliation.

As the author of 2 Timothy tells us: “All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for refutation, for correction, and for training in righteousness” (2 Tim 3:16). What lessons might we learn from today’s readings? The first and most important lesson to be learned is that of gratitude. There is so much for which each one of us should be grateful. Like the Israelites of old, we have been blessed with freedom and self-determination, the prosperity of the good earth, the love of family and friends. There is so much besides this, so much more that each one in her or his heart cannot even begin to recount God’s graciousness.

Like the Corinthians, we have been made a new creation; we have been given a second chance, in fact, many second chances; we have been called by God to continue God’s own work of reconciliation. In some ways, this is a very difficult blessing to appreciate. Freedom and food are tangible and we can easily be grateful for them. But few of us really grasp the notion of being a new creation with the responsibility of changing our way of living. The real reason for this may be that we are generally quite satisfied with our approach to life. Furthermore, we normally leave the task of reconciliation to religious or political negotiators. The challenge of this teaching may not yet have touched our minds and hearts.

Like the wayward son who never lost his father’s love, we have never really lost God’s love; we have been forgiven. We have experienced God’s forgiveness whenever our friends or family members or coworkers have forgiven us our selfishness or impatience. We do understand this kind of reconciliation, and we are usually grateful for it. Sometimes we even celebrate it.

This Sunday is set aside for us to recall God’s graciousness and to rejoice because of it. In many ways we have been dead, but through God’s grace we have come to life again; we have been lost, but have now been found. We have every reason to rejoice.

Dianne Bergant, CSA

https://learn.ctu.edu/

Hope . . .

 

“To hope means to be ready at every moment for that which is not yet born, and yet not become desperate if there is no birth in our lifetime.” (Erich Fromm)

Photo: Courtesy of SDE

Always beginning . . .

 

Beloved Is Where We Begin

If you would enter
into the wilderness,
do not begin
without a blessing.

Do not leave
without hearing
who you are:
Beloved,
named by the One
who has traveled this path
before you.

Do not go
without letting it echo
in your ears,
and if you find
it is hard
to let it into your heart,
do not despair.
That is what
this journey is for.

I cannot promise
this blessing will free you
from danger,
from fear,
from hunger
or thirst,
from the scorching
of sun
or the fall
of the night.

But I can tell you
that on this path
there will be help.

I can tell you
that on this way
there will be rest.

I can tell you
that you will know
the strange graces
that come to our aid
only on a road
such as this,
that fly to meet us
bearing comfort
and strength,
that come alongside us
for no other cause
than to lean themselves
toward our ear
and with their
curious insistence
whisper our name:

Beloved.
Beloved.
Beloved.

 —Jan Richardson
from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons

The Prodigal Son's Return . . .

 

The Return of the Prodigal Son by Ivor Williams (1908-1982)

 

The Mother of the Prodigal Son

 

Where is the mother of the prodigal son
On that day so long ago?
What were her thoughts
And what were her fears
As she watched him turn to go?

 

How many times in the dark of night
Did the tears slide down her face?
Did she get out of bed
And fall on her knees,
Just to pray that her boy was safe?

 

How were the days when she did not know
Was he alive? Was he warm? Was he well?
Who were his friends?
And where did he sleep?
Was there anyone there she could tell?

 

But, oh, on that day when she looked down the road
As she had looked since her son went away,
Did love unspeakable flood her soul?
Did she cry?
What did she say?

 

I think when the father had welcomed their son
And the boy had greeted his brother,
That the servants made a path
For him to enter the door
And the waiting arms of his mother.
Author: Chis

The Grace of Hope!

 Rough Translations by Jan Richardson

Hope nonetheless.

Hope despite.

Hope regardless.

Hope still.

Hope where we had ceased to hope.

Hope amid what threatens hope.

Hope with those who feed our hope.

Hope beyond what we had hoped.

Hope that draws us past our limits.

Hope that defies expectations.

Hope that questions what we have known.

Hope that makes a way where there is none.

Hope that takes us past our fear.

Hope that calls us into life.

Hope that holds us beyond death.

Hope that blesses those to come.

From: Circle of Grace, Wanton Gospeller Press, Orlando, FL, 2015

 http://www.janrichardson.com/index.htmlichardson.com 

©Jan Richardson. janrichardson.com 

March 23, 2025: Jaime L. Waters Preaches for the Third Sunday of Lent

Reflection for Third Sunday of Lent . . .

 Kevin P. Considine, PhD

Readings:

Exodus 3:1-8a, 13-15

Psalm 103: 1-2, 3-4, 6-7, 8, 11.

1 Corinthians 10:1-6, 10-12

Luke 13:1-9

 

 

 

“Swatting”.  It’s a relatively new slang term.  It means that a person calls in an anonymous threat to a school in order to force the SWAT team to show up. This usually is a bomb threat or an imminent active shooter. The SWAT, armed to the teeth, forcefully enters the school to neutralize the threat and clears the building. And, afterwards, everyone discovers that the threat was a hoax. The point of “swatting” is to terrorize the students, faculty, and staff through a sick prank.  On Ash Wednesday, this happened at my eldest son’s high school.  Luckily, everyone was physically safe and accounted for.  But the anger I feel as a father is overwhelming.  It’s of a high intensity when your flesh and blood is terrorized, especially for no known reason.  It perhaps can be called a “holy anger”.

So, this week’s reading from Luke’s Gospel makes sense to me. There is something important going on in Jesus’ fiery teaching on repentance. As a parent, I get it.

Oftentimes, we hear the impassioned words of Jesus, or the prophets and we shudder.  Why so harsh?  Why so angry?  Why so immediate? The answer is simple.  It comes from a place of love.  Like the love of a parent. A love that suffers greatly when harm is done. And a love that cannot rest until there is justice, repair, and a better future for everyone.

When speaking of the massacred Galileans and the victims of the disaster at Siloam, Jesus separates “receiving” harm from “deserving” to receive harm.  For Jesus, harm has been a mournful social fact.  It has happened and nothing can undo that.  As people understandably ask “why” such catastrophes could happen, they often fall back on the trope of “the victims must have done something to deserve it”— they sinned, or their parents sinned.  Jesus does not deny that people sin; but he does alter the framework of the question.  In effect, he says “of course they sinned. And of course they did not deserve the harm that happened to them.”  He then tells his hearers to repent so that they, too, do not perish.

“Repent, says the Lord; the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”  Repent means to turn around and walk a different path.  This call to repent is not because God desires punishment.  And it’s not because God is a God of wrathful vengeance.  No, it’s because God sees what we don’t: the far-reaching consequences of actions that cause harm.

Theologically, this is what we call sin. Because there is a kind of cause and effect in social life.  The harm we cause ripples throughout society, gains momentum, and leads to greater harm for more people as it becomes habituated into social norms.  God can see all of the possibilities and configurations in how this occurs.  We cannot.  So, a prophet accepts a difficult call by carrying God’s heart and seeing with God’s eyes for a season.  Then, they speak to prevent further harm and disaster by calling the people to repent, now!  To change, now!  To make better choices, now!  To break bad habits, now!  The “kingdom of heaven”—God’s presence and just social order—is already here. We just need to recognize it, believe it is possible, and choose to live into it.  Because the choices that we make as individuals, as well as the social norms that influence these choices, have consequences far beyond what we can see.  Repentance is a chance to break the cycle of wrongdoing and harm.  It is a chance at repair and restoration.

Repentance also means recognizing that deep place in our soul where God whispers to us “You are My Beloved”.  God invites us back to that first experience, like Moses with the burning bush, and by extension we who receive the story of Moses and that of the divine liberation of the Israelites from enslavement.  As we remember we are loved without condition and without limit, we are empowered to leave our habits of sinning and causing harm.  There is a reason why Jesus later says “Father, forgive them because they know not what they do”.  Because often, we do not understand the full implications of our actions.  And only God can forgive the most severe offenses and make a way out of no way.

There are few emotions as raw as that of a parent whose child is threatened with harm. Especially when the harm is a cowardly act of anonymous aggression that mimics larger social illnesses that our nation perpetually fails to acknowledge. Why, as a society, have we chosen to fail our children and young people so horribly that the terrorism of gun violence is “normal”?  In a time of nefarious political absurdity, there is no consensus response to that question that can lead to concrete action for the common good. Until there is, what endures is a holy anger. And a concurrent call to repentance away from serving violence and towards serving God’s work of justice, repair, and reconciliation.

These are the days we are living in. We adults must do better. We must repent for enabling many harmful social norms. We must believe we indeed are God’s Beloved and humbly live into the Way of Jesus. Our children and young people ask it of us. God asks it of us. Let us pray for a the courage, honesty, and self-awareness to do so.

Amen.

Kevin P. Considine, PhD 

Director, Robert J Schreiter, CPPS Institute for Precious Blood Spirituality

Adjunct Assistant Professor in Systematic Theology

Advisor, Certificate in Reconciliation and Restorative Justice

https://learn.ctu.edu/