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Fourth Sunday of Lent (C)

March 30, 2025

Fr. John Colacino C.PP.S.

Introit

Collect

O God, who through your Word
reconcile the human race to yourself in a wonderful way,
grant, we pray,
that with prompt devotion and eager faith
the Christian people may hasten
toward the solemn celebrations to come.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, for ever and ever. Amen.

First Reading Jos 5:9a,10-12

After the Israelites had crossed over the Jordan river, and entered the promised land, 9 the Lord said to Joshua, “Today I have rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt.” 10 While the Israelites were camped in Gilgal they kept the Passover in the evening on the fourteenth day of the month in the plains of Jericho. 11 On the day after the Passover, on that very day, they ate the produce of the land, unleavened cakes and parched grain. 12 The manna ceased on the day they ate the produce of the land, and the Israelites no longer had manna; they ate the crops of the land of Canaan that year.

Responsorial Psalm Ps 34:2-3,4-5,6-7

R/. Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.

Second Reading 2 Cor 5:17-21

If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! 18 All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; 19 that is, in Christ, God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. 20 So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. 21 For our sake God made Christ to be sin who knew no sin, so that in Christ we might become the righteousness of God.

Verse Before the Gospel Lk 15:18

Gospel Lk 15:1-3,11-32

All the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus. 2 And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” 3 So he told them a parable: 11 “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So the father divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and travelled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. 14 “When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16 The young man would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. 17 “But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’ 20 “So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. 21 “Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; 24 for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate. 25 “Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27 The slave replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ “Then the elder son became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ 31 “Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’”

Catena Nova

O heavenly Father, have compassion for my cry as You did for the prodigal son, for I, too, am throwing myself at Your feet and crying aloud as he cried: “Father, I have sinned!” Do not reject me Your unworthy child, O my Saviour but cause Your angels to rejoice also on my behalf, O God of goodness You, Who desire that all should be saved. For you have made me Your child and Your own heir through grace (Rm 8,17). Yet as for me, because I have offended You, am here a prisoner, an unhappy slave sold over to sin! Take pity on Your own image (Gn 1,26) and call it back from exile, O Saviour, You, Who desire that all should be saved. (St. Romanos Melodios)

Never cease loving a person, and never give up hope for them, for even the prodigal son who had fallen most low, could still be saved; the bitterest enemy and also he who was your friend could again be your friend; love that has grown cold can kindle again. (Soren Kierkegaard)

For us, a portion of God’s inheritance, is our existence, our freedom, our intellect, our accountability – all of these, are the most sublime goods imaginable, goods that only God could give us. That we, waste it all and end up in distress and that the distress brings us to our senses, is not really as significant, as the father’s vigil, compassion, extravagant greeting, refurbishing of the prodigal and the feast announced in his honour. Not even for the refractory and envious brother, does the father have a harsh word – he is not scolding him when he speaks to him, he merely speaks the full truth- whoever sticks by God, possesses everything in common with God! (Hans Urs von Bathasar)

The ultimate reason for our hope is not to be found at all in what we want, wish for and wait for; the ultimate reason is that we are wanted and wished for and waited for. What is it that awaits us? Does anything await us at all, or are we alone? Whenever we base our hope on trust in the divine mystery, we feel deep down in our hearts: there is someone who is waiting for you, who is hoping for you, who believes in you. We are waited for as the prodigal son in the parable is waited for by his father. We are accepted and received, as a mother takes her children into her arms and comforts them. God is our last hope because we are God's first love. (Jurgen Moltmann)

The more I reflect on the elder son in me, the more I realize how deeply rooted this form of lostness really is and how hard it is to return home from there. Returning home from a lustful escapade seems so much easier than returning home from a cold anger that has rooted itself in the deepest corners of my being. My resentment is not something that can be easily distinguished and dealt with rationally. It is far more pernicious: something that has attached itself to the underside of my virtue. Isn’t it good to be obedient, dutiful, law-abiding, hardworking, and self-sacrificing? And still it seems that my resentments and complaints are mysteriously tied to such praiseworthy attitudes. This connection often makes me despair. At the very moment I want to speak or act out of my most generous self, I get caught in anger or resentment. And it seems that just as I want to be most selfless, I find myself obsessed about being loved. Just when I do my utmost to accomplish a task well, I find myself questioning why others do not give themselves as I do. Just when I think I am capable of overcoming my temptations, I feel envy toward those who gave in to theirs. It seems that wherever my virtuous self is, there also is the resentful complainer. (Henri J.M. Nouwen)

I listen to you, Lord, when you tell me: “Forget your brothers’ and sisters’ past. If you base your relationships on the past, then who will be mistaken: you or them? You will be the one in the wrong for not having forgiven. You want to know everyone’s curriculum vitae, and that is why, little by little, communion is broken. I want to open the door wide to them, but you insist on keeping it closed. I want to forgive them, but you insist on condemning them. How different my way of seeing is from yours! Rejoice, because your brother was dead. Now he is alive.” Lord, I can never exhaust the meaning of these words. I can only kneel before you and thank you for your love. (Ven. Francis Xavier Nguyên Van Thuân)

In this parable, you can also glimpse a third son. A third son? Where? He’s hidden! And it is the one, ‘who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant” (Phil 2:6-7). This Servant-Son is Jesus! He is ‘the extension of the arms and heart of the Father: he welcomed the prodigal Son and washed his dirty feet; he prepared the banquet for the feast of forgiveness. He, Jesus, teaches us to be “merciful as the Father is merciful”.... In this time of Lent that still separates us from Easter, we are called to intensify the inner journey of conversion. May the loving gaze of our Father touch us. Let us return and return to him with all our heart, rejecting any compromise with sin. (Pope Francis)

Homily

Art often preaches the best homilies. And the parables often make the best art — perhaps no more so than the one we just heard. Whether you call it the Parable of the Prodigal Son, or of the Merciful Father, or even of the Resentful Brother — artists have brought their own touches and their own interpretations to the scenes the parable sketches. For example, Rembrandt's artistry and religious sensibility inspired Fr. Henri Nouwen's 1991 commentary called The Return of the Prodigal Son which is still in print. The original hangs in the Hermitage in St. Petersberg. It contains all the figures in the story.

A recent article in The Tablet notes how Nouwen's observations invite us to question:

Are we the prodigal son? Are we the unforgiving son? Are we the father? Why did Rembrandt make the painting’s focus the face and hands of the father, not the Prodigal Son, who’s face we see only obliquely? Who are the other figures and where is the son who stayed at home? (Anthony Seldon; The Tablet; March 13, 2025)

Like Nouwen, who was mesmerized by an artist's rendition, my own engagement with the parable via art took place on a visit to the sacristy of St. Alphonsus Church in Toronto, a parish staffed by the Missionaries of the Precious Blood. The striking image by the Canadian artist John Newton is that of the prodigal son, alone in a pig sty, at precisely the moment he decides to come home. In the midst of slopping the hogs — an unclean animal to the Jews — the boy puts his hand to his head in a moment of realization: "What have I done to my life? What have I become? Let me take my chances and go home."

It's a moment of self-awareness I suppose we've all experienced at one time or another. When we've come to the painful conclusion our lives have taken a wrong turn, one we could never have anticipated going so far astray from our native values and our fond hopes. When we've squandered precious resources on what could never in fact satisfy us. Leaving us in a state of squalor instead. With little else to hope for than a return to ourselves and the best life we left behind. But with many a doubt we could ever really "go home" to face the naysayers and the accusations of those ready to tell us, "I told you so." And then, much to our surprise, we find ourselves at home — returned to ourselves once more — exceeding all our expectations.

Now the name John Newton might ring a bell. Not the artist, but a namesake. He was born in London 1725 to a devout Christian mother and a seafarer father in whose footsteps he followed, eventually becoming a captain of slave ships. Much like our prodigal, it was a life of debauchery. In his own words, “I was capable of anything; I had not the least fear of God before my eyes, nor (so far as I remember) the least sensibility of conscience” (Memoirs, 1:12).

But then he experienced a profound religious conversion triggered by a violent storm at sea during which he invoked divine mercy and was saved. Despite this initial awakening, he remained a slave trader for some years when a seizure forced him to return home to England where he became an Anglican priest. Deeply regretting his past, he devoted himself to working as an abolitionist to end the transatlantic slave trade and died in London just months before the British Empire enacted abolition in 1807.

By now, I'm sure you know "the rest of the story" — for this John Newton was the author of probably the favorite of all Christian hymns, Amazing Grace. Whether the artist by that name had him mind when he created his image of the Prodigal Son, I don't know. But one thing is certain — this "old African blasphemer" as he called himself — never ceased to be amazed that, again in his own words, “such a wretch should not only be spared and pardoned, but reserved to the honor of preaching thy Gospel, which he had blasphemed and renounced . . . this is wonderful indeed! (Memoirs, 1:86).

Much like Paul's own experience after his conversion: Whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come. And all this is from God, who has reconciled us to himself through Christ and given us the ministry of reconciliation (II).

So as we come to this place to feed, not on manna, but on the Living Bread come down from heaven, the Passover the Lord desired to eat with his disciples the night before he died, amazement is the perfect word for grace in all its forms — given freely and without condition to beloved children no matter how far from home we've wandered. We are always welcomed back here — no matter what the other kids might say!

Intercessions (Joe Milner; The Sunday Website)

For the Church: that we may be ambassadors of Christ, bringing God’s message of compassion, mercy, and salvation to all who are wounded or alienated.

For all who have left or become alienated from their community of faith: that God will touch their hearts and help us to reach out and welcome them into our faith community.

For young people who have run away from their families: that God will protect them from harm and give them the courage to make contact again.

For healing within families: that God will heal the wounds of words and actions so that families may work together and support one another.

For all who are ill: that God's renewing love will strengthen and comfort all who are facing surgery or who have been hospitalized.

For all the Elect preparing for the Easter sacraments: that God will help them recognize the blindness that clouds their vision and give them a new awareness of God's presence in their lives.

For refugees: that God will guide them safely to find new homes and help them enrich their new communities with their gifts and talents.

For government leaders: that God will give them the wisdom to understand the needs of those they serve and inspire within them fresh ideas to advance the common good.

For peace and an end to warfare: that God will change hearts of those advancing violence, help them to recognize the value and dignity of each person, and open new opportunities for dialogue.

God of compassion,
you await the sinner’s return
and spread a feast to welcome home the lost.
Save us from the temptations
that lead away from you,
and draw us back by the constancy of your love,
that we may take our place in your household
and gladly share our inheritance with others.
Grant this through Christ, our Lord. Amen. (ICEL; 1998)

Offertory Antiphon

Offertory Hymn

Amazing Grace How sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me I once was lost but now am found, Was blind but now I see.

'Twas Grace that taught my heart to fear And Grace my fears relieved How precious did that grace appear The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares I have already come 'Tis Grace has brought me safe thus far And Grace will lead me home.

Amazing Grace How sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me I once was lost but now am found, Was blind but now I see.

When we've been there a thousand years Bright shining as the sun, We've no less days to sing God's praise Than when we've first begun.

Communion Antiphon

Closing Hymn

My song is love unknown,
My Saviors love to me;
Love to the loveless shown,
That they might lovely be.
O who am I, that for my sake
My Lord should take, frail flesh and die?

He came from His blest throne
Salvation to bestow;
But men made strange, and none
The longed for Christ would know:
But O! my Friend, my Friend indeed,
Who at my need His life did spend.

Sometimes they strew His way,
And His sweet praises sing;
Resounding all the day
Hosannas to their King:
Then Crucify! is all their breath,
And for His death they thirst and cry.

They rise and needs will have
My dear Lord made away;
A murderer they saved,
The Prince of life they slay,
Yet cheerful He to suffering goes,
That He His foes from thence might free.

Here might I stay and sing,
No story so divine;
Never was love, dear King!
Never was grief like Thine.
This is my Friend, in Whose sweet praise
I all my days could gladly spend.

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