Lent Reflection

14 March 2010

Every Sunday during Lent cliftondiocese.com will bring you a seasonal reflection written by a different priest from around our diocese.  This Sunday, Father Michael Robertson Parish Priest of St Bonaventure’s, Bishopston, Bristol writes for us. 

We are on a journey of faith. It's a spiritual journey. It's the way we let the Gospel change us - how our prayer and worship and interaction with other people in the light of the good news of Jesus Christ shapes each of us as a daughter or son of God.  It's a journey which should bring us true freedom and enable us to live our lives in joy. However, for some people that sense of freedom and joy is missing. Instead they give the impression of living burdened and in fear, always seeing what is wrong or trying to avoid the wrong rather than reaching out towards what is right. This Sunday's gospel, the Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32), is about journeying in faith. The climax of that story is the contrast between one brother's freedom and joy and the other brother's fear and burdens.

On the surface the story appears to be about the younger of two brothers who leaves his father behind to make his own way in the world. Everything goes wrong for him, largely because of his own stupidity, and he has to come back home. But when you look more closely at the story it becomes apparent that it is both of the sons who leave their father behind.  The younger son just sets off on his travels to see the world. There is no sign of any dispute between him and his father. No doubt the father is sad to see him go, but he knows that's what many hot-headed young men do and he accepts it simply as part of his son's growing up. No deep hurt has been caused by the departure of this typically impetuous adolescent. It is the elder son's journey away from his father which is hurtful.  The elder son remains physically close: he carries on living at home, working on the family farm. But spiritually and emotionally he has been journeying far away from his father. He is no longer the affectionate, loving first-born child. He has abandoned his father's love. His outburst at the news of the feast laid on to celebrate his younger brother's return reveals the measure of his estrangement. For years he has been fulfilling the traditional role of the elder son out of duty, because it was what was expected of him; perhaps because he had neither the courage nor the imagination to depart from convention. But he hasn't remained in his father's house out of love. Deep inside him has grown a festering resentment. He hasn't been able to have his independence. He's had to carry the burden of heavy manual labour on the farm.  If he's had to suffer for not wasting his money on a life of debauchery, why shouldn't his wayward younger brother suffer even more. The full extent of how spiritually distant he is from his father is revealed by his choice of words when referring to his brother: a contemptuous "this son of yours".

It is love which eventually brings the younger son to experience the joy and freedom of his father's forgiveness; it is the lack of love which causes the elder son's life to be burdened and fearful. There is no calculation in the younger son's return. It's not a case of him saying to himself, "My father loves me so he's bound to let me off." He just knows that when the bottom has fallen out of his world the only place for him to be is with his father.  Despite the physical distance between them, his love for his father has never diminished and the draw of that filial love brings him home. Because there is no love in the elder son's life, his response is driven entirely by calculation. He's never done anything wrong. He's always done a full day's work. Why is it this wastrel of a brother of his that gets the lavish banquet? To someone without love, forgiveness at best seems to be folly, at worst deeply unfair. Why should wrongdoers not pay for their crimes? It is only in the perspective of love that forgiveness makes sense.

Within the family of the Church we have our equivalents of the younger and elder brother in Jesus' parable:  those whose lives are marked by freedom and joy and those who live burdened and in fear. And, as in the story of the prodigal son, freedom and joy are the fruits of love whereas fear and feeling burdened flourish in love's absence. I always find it very sad when I meet people for whom their Christian faith is a burden to be borne. They come regularly to Mass on Sundays and holy days and often on weekdays as well. They frequently make use of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Every day they say their morning and night prayers. They will often pray the rosary. But they do all this out of fear. There is no love in their relationship with God. They see God as a demanding tyrant, ready to condemn them to eternal punishment for the slightest fault. They practise their faith as a sort of insurance policy, to keep themselves in God's favour. Because they find it hard to accept that God will forgive them, they can be unforgiving of others, always ready to point out the wrongs of other people. These are the elder brothers in the family of the Church, living burdened and in fear.

The God of Jesus Christ is no demanding tyrant. He is the loving, all-forgiving father, just like the father in the parable of the prodigal son. And there are many younger brothers in the family of the Church:  men and women who live in God's love, who have sometimes rejected that love and gone far away from God, but who have returned and been welcomed back with rejoicing. Those people are an inspiration to meet. Their freedom and joy are infectious. Because of their love of God they never adopt a judgemental attitude. They know God will always forgive them, so how can they be unforgiving of others.

God lived among us in Jesus Christ so that we could know and love him. He suffered, died and rose again so that we could have confidence in his inexhaustible love and forgiveness. May we trust in God's forgiveness, come to know his love, and live in freedom and joy.

Father Michael Robertson

Last week we heard from Father David Mills, Parish Priest of St Edmund’s, Calne.

Next week Canon Thomas Atthill Parish Priest of The Sacred Heart, Tisbury and All Saints, Wardour writes our Lent reflection.

cliftondiocese.com has also brought you a poetic Lent reflection and faith and film is in focus for Lent podcast reflections produced by the Bishops’ Conference.