Ascension of the Lord: Acts 1:1-11; Eph 1:17-23; Lk 24:46-53

The feast of the Ascension tells us that the Church must be a community in mission, guided by the Holy Spirit and confident of God’s protection even amid suffering and death. Christ’s Ascension was the culmination of God’s Divine plan for Christ Jesus – his return to his Father with his “Mission Accomplished.” Ascension is the grand finale of all Jesus’ words and works done for us and for our salvation. As Jesus is now with God in glory, so Jesus is with us now in Spirit: “Lo, I am with you always.” 

A Jesuit priest, Walter Ciszek by name, was in Russia for 23 years, five of which were spent in the dreaded Lubyanka prison in Moscow and ten of which were spent in the harsh Siberian slave labour camp. He was finally released from Russia in 1963, in exchange for two Soviet spies held in USA. He died in 1984 at the age of 84. After release he wrote a book “He Leadeth Me.” In this book he tries to answer the question: ‘How did you manage to survive in Russia?’ he says: “I was able to endure the inhuman conditions in which I found myself because I experienced somehow the presence of God. I never lost my Faith that God was with me, even in the worst of circumstances.” What was true of Fr. Walter Ciszek is true of each of us. Jesus is with us; God is with us in the power of the Holy Spirit.

By His Ascension, Christ has not deserted us but has made it possible for the Holy Spirit to enter all times and places. In this way it is possible for each of us to be transformed by the power of the Spirit into agents or instruments of Christ.

The feast of the Ascension celebrates one aspect of the Resurrection, namely Jesus’ exaltation. The focus of this feast is the Heavenly reign of Christ. The Lord is now “seated at the right hand of the Father” as we profess in the Nicene Creed, meaning He alone is in control of the continuing plan of salvation through the Holy Spirit, unrestricted by time, space or culture.

 The Ascension is most closely related, in meaning, to Christmas. In Jesus, the human and the Divine become united in the Person and life of one man. That’s Christmas. At the Ascension, this human being – the person and the resurrected body of Jesus – became for all eternity a part of who God is. It was not the Spirit of Jesus or the Divine Nature of Jesus that ascended to the Father. It was the Risen living Body of Jesus: a Body that the disciples had touched, a Body in which he himself had eaten and drunk with them both before and after his Resurrection, a real, physical, but gloriously restored Body, bearing the marks of nails and a spear. This is what, and who, ascended. This is what, now and forever, is a living, participating part of God. That is what the Ascension, along with the Incarnation, is here to tell us – that it is indeed a wonderful and an important and a holy thing to be a human being. It is such an important thing that the fullness of God now includes what it means to be a human being.

How can he go, yet still remain with us? This mystery was explained by Pope Benedict XVI: “Given that God embraces and sustains the whole cosmos, the Lord's Ascension means that Christ has not gone far away from us, but now, thanks to the fact that He is with the Father, he is close to each one of us forever.”

In today’s Gospel, Jesus gives this mission to all the believers: “Go out to the whole world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature.” This mission is not given to a select few but to all believers.

Bearing witness to Christ, to his message and the power of his goodness is our primary mission on earth. He said, "Go be my witnesses to all the nations." This is the mission we have been given. This is what we are supposed to do. Each one of us will do it in different ways. God calls some to witness as priests. He calls some to consecrate their lives as full-time missionaries. Others are called to be leaven in the dough of the world, transforming culture from within, either as humble workers or as great leaders. Each of us he calls to bear witness by the sincerity, faithfulness, and loving-kindness with which we live out our normal responsibilities and relationships. Until this mission becomes our highest priority in life, we will experience an interior restlessness that nothing will cure. We were created to live in friendship with God, and that means sharing in God's projects. And His project in this fallen world is "that repentance for the forgiveness of sins would be preached in his name to all the nations".

The feast of Ascension of Jesus calls us to imbibe that essence of Christianity and be his ambassadors today. May Jesus give us grace and strength to accept this challenge.

Easter V [C] : Acts 14:21-27; Rv 21:1-5a; Jn 13:31-35

One day, as St. Teresa of Calcutta (Mother Teresa, 1910-1997) and her Missionaries of Charity were tending to the poorest of the poor on the streets of Calcutta, they happened across a man lying in the gutter, very near death. He was filthy, dressed in little more than a rag and flies swarmed around his body. Immediately, Mother Teresa embraced him, spoke to him softly and began to pick out the maggots that were nesting in his flesh. A passerby was repulsed by the sight of the man and exclaimed to Mother Teresa, “I wouldn’t do that for a million dollars.” Her response was immediate, “Neither would I!” Obviously, monetary gain did not motivate the diminutive woman known as the Saint of Calcutta; love did. In her writings, Mother Teresa frequently affirmed the motivating power of love. Quoting Jesus in today’s Gospel, she wrote, “Jesus said, ‘Love one another. Such as my love has been for you, so must your love be for each other.’” She continued, “We must grow in love, and to do this we must go on loving and loving and giving and giving until it hurts – the way Jesus did. Do ordinary things with extraordinary love: little things, like caring for the sick and the homeless, the lonely and the unwanted, washing and cleaning for them.” Elsewhere, Mother Teresa remarked that the greatest disease in the West today is not tuberculosis, leprosy or even A.I.D.S.; it is being unwanted, uncared for, unloved. That she did her part in trying to “cure” this disease was attested in everything she did and in every word she said.

Jesus has added a new element to the Old Testament command of love by telling us that the true test of discipleship is to love other people in the same way that He has loved us. Hence, the renewal of Christian life means a radical change of vision and a reordering of our priorities in life. Such a renewal brings us to embrace new attitudes, new values and new standards of relating to God, to other people and, indeed, to our whole environment. For most of us, “renewal” is something that comes at different stages in our lives, each time bringing us to a deeper understanding, insight and commitment.

The command of Jesus is both new and old. It repeats the precept of Lv 19:18 to love one’s neighbor as one’s self. What is new is that this love characterizes the new life inaugurated by Jesus and is proof of one’s love for God (1 Jn. 4:7). Jesus’ new commandment calls for love without limits, conditions, or prerequisites. This love opens our eyes to facts that we might otherwise overlook that the poor in the world belong to our family; that those who live in despair may be saved by our care of them; that peace can come to the world through our efforts.

It was a love that was attentive to the poor and the needy. During his life on earth, Jesus Himself was lovingly present to those who were not at all lovable.  He allowed himself to be moved with pity and compassion when he encountered those in need, and he was moved to tears in the midst of sadness.  He openly shed tears at the tomb of Lazarus.  He shed tears also over the city of Jerusalem.  Even the anger that Jesus displayed in the Temple was rooted in love — the love for His Father and for His Father’s house.  Jesus loved by serving others, by helping them and by healing others.  His was a love that healed and built up, that challenged and inspired people.  It was a deeply forgiving and sacrificial love. “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (15: 13).

We live in a culture that devalues life and worships death—a culture in which people drug themselves into oblivion. Women and girls are willing to starve themselves to fit some unrealistic media image of beauty and worth.  People and relationships are sacrificed on the altar of “workaholism.”  How are we to love ourselves when we are told over and over again that we are unlovable?  How do we reclaim our basic worth?   We can become whole and holy only when we learn to love ourselves properly, acknowledging the presence of the Triune God in our souls, making our bodies the “temple of the Holy Spirit.” Only those persons who are fully convinced that they are themselves lovable because God has loved them and so brought them into being can reach out comfortably and unconditionally to love those who themselves cannot love but can only hurt and hate and destroy. It is through constant love-centered interaction with God and each other that the “new earth, the new Heaven and the new Jerusalem” can begin to come into existence.

EASTER IV [C]: Acts 13:14, 43-52; Rv 7:9, 14b-17; Jn 10:27-30

One of God's favorite ways to describe himself is by saying he is like a good shepherd. Jesus did so more than once, as he does in today's Gospel. In the Old Testament, the comparison is everywhere: God chose shepherds to be the Patriarchs; he chose shepherds to be Israel's first kings; the prophets ceaselessly speak of Israel as a flock and God as their shepherd; the image returns again and again in the Book of Psalms, as in the beautiful expression from today's Psalm: "Know that the Lord is God; he made us, his we are; his people, the flock he tends."

Comparing God to a good shepherd can only happen in a religion that recognizes a special connection between the human person and God.  Jesus is our good shepherd who leads us to green pastures. He does not allow anything to come to us without himself going through them.

When the emperor Alexander the Great was crossing the Makran Desert on his way to Persia, his army ran out of water.  The soldiers were dying of thirst as they advanced under the burning sun.  A couple of Alexander’s lieutenants managed to capture some water from a passing caravan. They brought some to him in a helmet.  He asked, “Is there enough for both me and my men?” “Only you, sir,” they replied.  Alexander then lifted up the helmet as the soldiers watched.  Instead of drinking, he tipped it over and poured the water on the ground. The men let up a great shout of admiration.  They knew their general would not allow them to suffer anything he was unwilling to suffer himself.

Everyone who is entrusted with the care of others is a shepherd.  We become good shepherds by loving those entrusted to us, praying for them, spending our time and talents for their welfare, and guarding them from physical and spiritual dangers. 

There is a poem called "Footprints". It was written in 1936 by a girl named Mary Stevenson. Mary had lost her mother at age six. She grew up in poverty and hardship as her father struggled to raise eight children during the Great Depression. One cold winter's night when she was 14-years-old, she was locked out of the house. As she sat shivering on the doorstep, she wrote "Footprints" on a scrap of paper.

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. / Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. / In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. / Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there were one set of footprints. / This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints. / So I said to the Lord, "You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. / But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there have only been one set of footprints in the sand. / Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?" / The Lord replied, "The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand, is when I carried you."

It's just a poem, just a story. But it rings true. 

Christ is our shepherd, and, as he reminds us in today's Gospel passage, if we trust in him, nothing, not even hardship and suffering, can "take us out of his hand".

Today’s Good Shepherd Sunday, is also the “World Day of Prayer for Vocations.”  The Church needs vocations to the priesthood, the diaconate, and the consecrated life so that we may have more good shepherds to lead, feed and protect the Catholic community. The duty of fostering vocations is the concern of the whole believing community, and we discharge that responsibility primarily by living exemplary Christian lives. Parents foster vocations by creating a climate in homes based on solid Christian values. They should pray with their children for vocations during the family prayer time and speak encouraging words about their pastors, the missionaries, and the religious, instead of criticizing these servants of God. Such an atmosphere in the family will definitely foster vocations from such families.

Jesus says, "My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me." He wants to stay close to us, and he wants us to stay close to him, close enough so we can always hear his voice. That way we can be sure to arrive safely to the rich pastures and refreshing streams of a meaningful, joyful life.

Unfortunately, life in today's world is noisy, and it is not always easy for us to hear the voice of our good shepherd. We are bombarded with so many other voices, so many images, so many ideas. Christ knows this, yet he still tells us, "My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me."No matter how noisy, dark, or stormy it gets, he knows how to make his voice heard in our hearts. We can always tune into it - that's the gift of prayer. 

The sheep who wanders away and gets stuck in a ravine or attacked by wolves cannot blame the shepherd. Just so, when our lives don't fill us with the meaning we long for, before blaming Jesus we should take an honest look at our prayer lives: do we pray?  Do we strive to pray better? Do I listen to my shepherd’s voice?

Today, as Jesus renews his commitment as our good shepherd, let's renew our commitment to be his good sheep, to give daily prayer the place it ought to have in our lives.

EASTER III [C] (Acts 5:27-32, 40b-41; Rv 5:11-14; Jn 21:1-19)- 

In his book, Remember Who You Are, William H. Willimon of Duke University says that he recalls one thing his mother always told him whenever he left the house to go on a date during his high school days. As he left the house, she would stand at the front door and call after him, "Will, don't forget who you are."

We know what she meant. She didn't think Wil was in danger of forgetting his name and street address. But she knew that, alone on a date, or in the midst of some party, or while joined by friends, he might forget who he was. She knew that sometimes all of us are tempted to answer to some alien name and to be who we are not. "Don't forget who you are," was the maternal benediction.

The disciples that morning as they fished without success were called from the shore by one who was calling them back to who they were. They were his children. They should never forget that. They were his with a mission to do. And that mission would not and could not be successful without his guidance and presence.

The Gospel tells the post-Resurrection story of our merciful Savior who goes in search of His band of disappointed and dejected disciples.   After letting them have a miraculous catch and providing them a good breakfast, three times, Jesus asks Simon Peter, “Do you love Me?” And Peter responds that he does, as if in reparation for his triple denial of Jesus. The two metaphors used in the story, namely fishing and shepherding, are duties of the Church referring to her missionary work. Peter, as a forgiven sinner, is chosen as a leader in a community of brothers and sisters for the quality of his love. As his primary mission, he is given the care of the vulnerable lambs and sheep, and he is told that his fidelity to this mission will lead him to martyrdom.

One of the features of the stories about the appearances of Jesus after his Resurrection is that they nearly always end up with Jesus commissioning someone.

 Three little boys were arguing about whose mom loved them more. The first boy said, "My mom loves me more because when I gave her a quarter, she gave it back to me and told me to go buy a piece of candy."

The second little boy said that his mom loved him more. He said, "My mom loves me more because if I gave her a quarter, she would give me two quarters back and tell me to go buy two pieces of candy.

The third lad saw how this was developing, thought for a moment, and said, "My mom loves me the most because if I gave her a quarter she would keep it and tell me how much my quarter is going to help pay the bills.

Love requires a commitment. Jesus required it of Peter; He requires it of us today. The church does not exist for itself; it exists to bring others to a commitment to Jesus Christ. At each mass he asks us to make commitment to him and deepen that commitment each week.

The one thing about which Jesus questioned Peter prior to commissioning him to tend the flock, was love. This is the basic qualification for Christian service. Other qualities may be desirable, but love is completely indispensable (cf. 1 Cor. 13:1-3).” By this triple confession, Peter is restored to the leadership position from which he had fallen by his triple denial. Furthermore, it is proclaimed that Peter is indeed a pastor, who is to show his love for Christ in feeding Christ’s sheep, a recycling of denial into affirmation. “Feed My lambs,” will continue to be the agenda of the post-Resurrection Church until the risen Lord appears in glory.

Peter was called upon to prove   his love:  “If you love me, feed my sheep.” The same Risen Lord reminds us: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (Jn 14:15). What do our present actions and activities say about our love for Christ?  The Risen Jesus accepts our apology, dismisses the charges against us, exonerates us of guilt, and forgives all our weaknesses.  He   continues to challenge us to demonstrate our love for him by freely, faithfully feeding his sheep entrusted to our care.

In the first reading we saw that the Apostles left the Sanhedrin’s presence “rejoicing that they had been found worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name.” That reaction does not come from obligation. It comes from love. The Lord loved them and suffered so much for them that they are happy to love and suffer for him in return, just as every believer should be.

In this Gospel Our Lord reminds us that he wants unconditional love from us, but also realizes our weakness and failings. Our love will always be imperfect, but it must be firm, trying to grow and never losing ground.

Put ourselves in Peter’s shoes today and respond to Our Lord’s questions from wherever we’re at, regarding our relationship with him. Just like Peter, he will coax a greater love out of us if we let him.

Palm/Passion Sunday Lk: 22:14-23, 23:56 

After David had committed adultery with Bathsheba and arranged to have her husband Uriah killed, God sent Nathan the prophet to convict David of his sins. Nathan told the story of a rich man who, although he had many flocks and herds, decided to steal and kill the ewe lamb of his poor neighbor to eat with a guest (cf. 2Sam 12:1ff). This outraged David and got him to exclaim, “As the Lord lives, the man who has done this deserves to die.” Then Nathan shocked David by saying, “You are that man!” During our listening to the Passion of the Lord, we might be tempted to become outraged against Judas, Pilate, Peter, Herod, the soldiers and so many others. But God through the Church gives us this story and then tells us, as Nathan told David, “You are that man!” You are Judas! You are Pilate! You are Peter! There have been great debates through the centuries about who ultimately was responsible for the death of the Lord. Some said the Jews. Some said the Romans. Some said both. But the Second Vatican Council, clearly basing herself on the traditional understanding from St. Paul’s letters and the earliest teachings of the Church, said that — even though clearly the sinful deeds of the Jewish leaders and Roman authorities played a part — ALL OF US killed Jesus by our sins. Jesus died for our sins. We also encounter Mary Magdalen, the Blessed Mother, Simon of Cyrene, the Roman Centurion, St. John and the others, and the Church says to us, again, “You are that man!” We are Mary Magdalene, reconciled sinners who remain faithful to the Lord to the end. We are Simon of Cyrene, helping the Lord — albeit perhaps reluctant at first — to carry the Cross. We are St. John, receiving Mary as our inheritance. We are the Centurion proclaiming Jesus to be the Son of God. During these days we are called to contemplate their faces as well and see in them the reflection of our own.

Let us remember that Holy Week can become “holy” for us only if we actively and consciously take part in the liturgies of this week.

Let’s relive during this week our own dying to sin and selfishness and rising in Jesus, healed, reconciled to God and each other, and redeemed by His death and rising for us.

Lent V: Is 43:16-21; Phil 3:8-14; John 8:1-11

Dr. Karl Menninger, a well-known psychiatrist, wrote a book a few years ago entitled, Whatever Became of Sin? In it, he reported how a stern, plainly dressed man appeared on a busy corner of Chicago’s Loop. As people passed by, he would from time-to-time solemnly lift his arm and point to a passerby and say just one word; “Guilty!” Then without changing expression, he would drop his arm. After a few seconds, he would raise his arm again, and with an accusing finger pointing at another person, he would utter that one-word indictment: “Guilty!” The effect of this on the people on was extraordinary. Some stared, started to laugh, then stopped, hesitated, looked around with furtive glances, and hurried on with quickened step. One passerby turned to a companion and exclaimed, “But how did he know?” We do not have to have an eccentric street preacher pointing an accusing finger to remind us of our guilt. We have more authentic inside information. We call it conscience or God’s voice within us.

The sinful woman’s story of today’s Gospel shows not only the inexhaustible mercy and compassion Jesus grants to sinners, but also to recognize our own sins before God to obtain mercy from him. The Pharisees and the Scribes came to condemn the sinner, but went home self condemned, by their own conscience.

This incident happened in Jerusalem, in the precincts of the Temple where Jesus had been teaching. “The scribes and the Pharisees” is often a stock phrase in the Gospels for “those Jews who disagreed with Jesus and opposed him.” The scribes and Pharisees brought forward a woman caught in the act of adultery. The Mosaic penalty for such an offense was death by stoning, although there is no evidence that this ever took place, certainly not in Roman times.

Besides, Moses commanded that both partners in adultery should be stoned, not only the woman. (Lev 20:10; Dt 22:22). Stoning was mostly done in cases of blasphemy; such was the case with Stephen, whom we read about in the book of Acts. The Jewish civil and criminal code considered three grave sins as punishable by death, namely idolatry, murder and adultery. Deuteronomy prescribes death by strangulation for a married woman caught in adultery. If the guilty woman is betrothed, she has to be stoned. In both cases they have violated God’s sixth commandment and have destroyed the fidelity and unity of marriage. His opponents wanted to use the occasion to embarrass Jesus, because he had the reputation of proclaiming God’s mercy toward sinners. If he insisted on following the Law exactly, his reputation as a prophet of God’s mercy would be open to question. Besides, if Jesus consented to her death by strangulation or stoning, he would be violating the Roman law, which forbade killing by private citizens. This was the ingenious trap they had set for Jesus.

Initially, Jesus showed his lack of interest in the case by simply writing on the ground. But he was the only one in the group who could rightly judge the woman. The woman waited to hear Jesus’ verdict. She knew that she was guilty. She had passed the judgment on herself, and she accepted Jesus’ right to do the same. Jesus gave his verdict: “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Thus, Jesus turned the accusers’ attention back on themselves and made them realize that they, too, were sinners. St. Augustine puts Jesus’ stand as follows: “Let this woman be punished, but not by sinners; let the law be applied, but not by its transgressors.” Thus, Jesus ingeniously escaped from the trap by leaving the judgment to the consciences of the accusers. This reduced the accusers to silence, prompting them to leave in shame. By appealing to the Justice of God and the injustice of humans, Jesus upheld God’s mercy. The moral of the story is not that sin is of no importance, or that God does not punish sin, but that God extends mercy to repentant sinners in order that they may turn from their sins.Jesus also gave the woman the strong warning, “Go, and from now on, do not sin anymore.”  Jesus does tell her “not to sin again,” which certainly implies that her behavior was, in fact, sinful; He does not excuse the fact of the sin, or deny its wrongness, but He chooses not to dwell on it, knowing that the entire experience has been more than traumatic enough.

He upheld the Justice of God by not excusing or explaining away the sin. Without minimizing her sinfulness, Jesus showed the sinner the respect she deserved as a human being, treating her with compassion. Not only did Jesus not condemn the woman, he even gave her hope for the future.

Pope Francis in his first Sunday homily as Pope declared: “God never tires of forgiving us…. It’s we who tire of asking for forgiveness.” Then he prayed, “May we never tire of asking for what God never tires to give!”

We have no right to judge others because we often commit the very faults we condemn, we are often partial and prejudiced in our judgment and we do not know the circumstances which have led someone to sin. Hence, let us leave the judgment to our just and merciful God who reads people’s hearts. Let’s pray that we be able to show mercy and compassion to those who sin because we ourselves are sinners in need of God’s forgiveness.

LENT IV-C: Jos 5:9, 10-12; II Cor 5:17-21; Lk 15:1-3, 11-32

There is a story about a widow who during the First World War lost her only son and her husband. She was especially bitter because her neighbor, who had five sons, lost none of them. One night while this woman’s grief was so terribly severe, she had a dream. An angel stood before her and said, “You might have your son back again for ten minutes. What ten minutes would you choose? Would you have him back as a little baby, a dirty-faced little boy, a schoolboy just starting to school, a student just completing high school, or as the young soldier who marched off so bravely to war?” The mother thought a few minutes and then, in her dream, told the angel she would choose none of those times. “Let me have him back,” she said, “when as a little boy, in a moment of anger, he doubled up his fists and shook them at me and said, ’I hate you! I hate you!” Continuing to address the angel, she said: “In a little while his anger subsided and he came back to me, his dirty little face stained with tears, and put his arms around me. He said, ‘Momma, I’m sorry I was so naughty. I promise never to be bad again and I love you with all my heart.’ Let me have him back then,” the mother sobbed. “I never loved him more than at that moment when he changed his attitude and came back to me. Jesus said that this is how God feels about each of us.

Acknowledging the allegation that Jesus mingled with the sinners, Jesus outlines the three aspects or dimensions of repentance in the parable, by presenting three characters: 1) the repentant younger son, 2) the forgiving father and 3) the self-justifying elder son. This is a double-edged parable. The lesson of Divine mercy to sinners is shown by the Father’s reception of the returned younger son. A stern warning is given to the self-righteous people by presenting the dialogue between the father and his older son.

From this Laetare Sunday (Rejoice Sunday) we are moving swiftly toward the end of our Lenten fast, and the joy of Easter is already on the horizon. 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.

According to the law and customs in ancient Palestine, a father could dispose of his property by making a will that would be executed when he died (Numbers 36:7-9) or he could give his possessions to his children while still alive. Usually the eldest son received a double share or twice the amount that each of the other sons would receive. But in the parable, the father promptly gave a share of his property to his younger son, bid him a tearful farewell and waited daily for his return. Finally, after squandering his money, his morals and even his Jewish religious heritage, the boy returned in rags. He confessed his sins, and his father promptly forgave him, kissed him on the cheeks, and healed the broken relationship between them. He ordered a bath for his son, gave him new garments (a sign of honor) and a golden signet ring (sign of authority and trust). By ordering sandals for the feet of his son, the father signaled his reacceptance of the returned penitent as his son. The robe and ring and shoes were a sign that the son would not be received into the house as a servant (slaves did not wear shoes, robes or finger rings) but in his former status as son. The killing of the fatted calf, specially raised for the Passover feast, meant that the entire village was invited for the grand party given in the returned son’s honor.  Mirroring our Heavenly Father, Jesus, too, squanders his love on those who need it most. Although the story of the prodigal son is often given as an example of repentance, it is actually the story of how God forgives and heals the repentant sinner.

There is spiritual famine all over the world, especially in countries with booming economy. Examples of this spiritual famine can be seen in drug and alcohol abuse, fraud and theft in the workplace, murders, abortions and violence, premarital sex, marital infidelity and priestly infidelity, as well as in hostility between people. Sometimes this “spiritual famine” exists in our own families. That is why we condemn some of our family members to “survival-level” existence, and even contribute to the death of some of them, by refusing to associate with them, like the elder brother in the parable. Let us accept the fact that we have been squandering God’s abundant blessings not only in our country and in our families, but also in our personal lives.

Lent is a time to “pass over,” from a world of sin to a world of reconciliation. The message of Lent then, is, as St. Paul tells us,  “We implore you, in Christ’s name: be reconciled to God.”  The first step, of course, is to do as the younger son did: “When he came to himself, he said: ‘I will break away and return to my father, and say to him, “Father, I have sinned against you.” At every Mass, we come to our loving Heavenly Father’s house as prodigal children. And we receive forgiveness from him. But do we feel the joy of coming back? If we don’t, we are like the elder son who thought he didn’t need his Father’s forgiveness. Let’s ask the Lord for the grace of true repentance like that of the younger son so that we may have true joy on the feast of Resurrection.