Sunday of The Prodigal Son

Speakers:

Fr. Peter Ries

Category:

Sunday Homily

What does the word justice mean for us?

As humans, we often find ourselves preoccupied with justice. And very often that word justice is being used as a mechanism of our legal system. Those who commit and are found guilty of crimes are punished, according to the severity of those crimes that they have committed. This act of punishing those who have done wrong is called, in strictly human terms, justice.

And even outside the criminal justice system, from the earliest of ages, children are taught that if they do something wrong, they face a punishment for those actions. Anyone who has been grounded from video games, or from playing outside, has tasted this bitter pill of justice.

And so, the framework of justice is something that’s very familiar to us humans, and it’s something that we rely upon in order to have a functioning society. But, there can easily be a misuse of this idea of justice, particularly when it comes to sin. Because the word sin and the word crime are not synonymous, and yet how often do I treat my sins as a crimes against God and others?

And when I use this kind of language to describe sin, it becomes easy to believe that the remedy for my sinfulness must surely be similar to the remedy for any kind of criminal offense. If I sin, God must surely need to punish me for it, right? But this places me in a dire position, brothers and sisters.

Because, if I am honest with myself, and if I acknowledge the sins which I have committed in this life, I will quickly find, according to the human conception of justice and of punishment, I am surely doomed.

There’s no hope for me! Because, as an everyday sinner, the offenses that I’ve committed against my God are still so plentiful, so great, so numerous. And there are all those who I have hurt with my anger, there are those who I have neglected with my greed, there are those whom I have condemned in my heart through pride. And so, as a human, I sin daily, even moment to moment, and as the sins rack up it becomes clearer and clearer to me that if God were to use the human system of justice and apply it to me and my sin, then any just punishment should be nothing less than my total destruction, my death.

And God knows this.

God sees the sinfulness of this world, he sees how we have wronged Him and each other to the point where we are all condemned by our own sin. So, He fashions for us a remedy, a remedy that is befitting of the severity of our sinfulness. But that remedy is, unbelievably, not punishment. Rather, it is His own willful sacrifice. God sees how far we fell, and rather than crush us, he lowers Himself and dies for us. How does that make sense? How do we understand this decision that God makes?

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Today, the prodigal son, once he wipes the filth and pig slop off of him, realizes that he has made a huge mistake, and he is determined to return to his Father.

And yet, in returning to Him, the son still holds on to his own human assumptions about justice. For with these sins that he has committed against his Father, the son is already busy crafting for himself a worthy punishment. The son figures that he’ll be welcomed back, not as a member of the family, but instead as an indentured servant. For the son cannot comprehend the idea that his mistakes won’t come without some kind of severe punishment. He cannot imagine a world where his Father forgives him without conditions, or without consequences.

But is this what happens?

What does his Father do?

Seeing his son approaching on the road, the Father leaps up and runs to him, and embraces his lost child. His son has been returned to him. And rather than take a moment to scold, or to lay down the law, this Father brings his son inside, and sets up for him a glorious feast. For this Father is not seeking punishment for his son, he does not see justice as an act of vengeance. He is not demanding some kind of draconian satisfaction. No, this Father is only ever seeking reconciliation. He is seeking to be with his child, and now that he has what he seeks, there is nothing left to do but rejoice.

And that is why God chooses to suffer and die for us. He so strongly wants to save us from the suffering that we cause ourselves, that He Himself takes the form of a servant, and bears all sin and suffering for us, upon the Cross. But is that fair? Is that just? That the sinless one bears the sins of all of us?

No, but our Lord bears this injustice upon himself anyway, so that he might show us what His justice looks like. For the Lord’s justice is not built upon punishment, but on forgiveness. The Lord forgives us for our sins, he absolves us. He pardons us. Yes, we fail him, and reject him, and spit on him, and then he goes and dies for us anyway.

And in doing so he reveals the transformative power of forgiveness. For his forgiveness of sins is a model for us. In forgiving us, God shows us how to forgive as well, how to embody his forgiveness, ourselves. When we leave here today, we seek to leave behind this limited, human idea of justice, and we replace it instead with God’s transformative forgiveness.

We do not seek restitution from those who wrong us, we seek reconciliation. We do not seek punishment for those with whom we disagree, but we seek to understand and to love, and to forgive. That is the gift Christ gives us today, on the Cross. The power of forgiveness. And we cultivate this power through repentance. Through acknowledging our own sin, our own weakness.

And by acknowledging our weakness, and asking God for help, Christ fills the gaps of our weaknesses with his infinite strength. He makes us whole, he restores us back to our intended glory. He meets us out on the road, and he leads us back home.

Glory to Jesus Christ!