In today's Gospel, Jesus continues to evoke harsh criticism from the religious leaders. "If it be true that this Jesus speaks for God, as He claims, He wouldn't act this way," they reason. "This man receives sinners. This man sits down at table and eats with sinners. Instead of scorning them, He comforts them. Instead of rejecting them with a show of righteous indignation, He actually welcomes them into His company."
Jesus responds by telling them a parable. Actually, He tells them two parables: "The Parable of the Lost Sheep" and "The Parable of the Prodigal Son". In so doing, Jesus gives the self-righteous Pharisees and scribes a lesson in Divine Hospitality.
A popular comedian has a routine in which he recalls his adolescent years. "When I was a teenager," he says, "I lived in a tough neighborhood. We used to play "cops and robbers" with real cops. And when I ran away from home, my father sent me a telegram which read, "Don't return and all is forgiven." The comedian doesn't reveal what prompted his father to send that message. But one thing is sure: it wasn't prompted by the lesson in hospitality Jesus teaches in the Parable of the Prodigal Son.
You know the story: a self-indulgent playboy wastes his life and his share of his father's fortune on loose living. Like the people Jesus befriends in today's Gospel, he is a big sinner. Eventually,
he hits rock bottom. He has no friends. He is destitute. He doesn't know where his next meal is coming from. Then he takes an honest inward look at himself -- where he's been and what he's done.
"He came to himself," Luke tells us. That means he regrets his sordid, sinful past. That means he wants to change all that. That means he intends to reform. In Biblical language, he repents. And that means he wants to go home -- to his father's house. He tells himself, "I will say to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son'" (Luke 15:18-19).
Then he sets off for home. While he is still some distance away, his father sees him. The father could send one of his servants out with a message: "Don't come home and all is forgiven." He could go to his study to think things out and decide on a course of action. He could ignore the boy's presence, give him the cold shoulder. He could take the boy aside and lecture him -- give him a real tongue-lashing and mete out some severe punishment.
But the father does none of these things. Instead, he receives his son warmly and lovingly. The father has "compassion," Jesus says. He runs to greet his son. He embraces him and kisses him. He gives him the best robe to wear. He presents him with a new ring for his hand, and shoes for his feet. Then he organizes a party to celebrate the boy's return. "This my son was dead, and is alive again," the father exclaims. "He was lost, and is found." Then the party begins. In Jesus' words, "They begin to make merry." Thus, the father offers his wayward son the ultimate in hospitality.
To speak of the relationship between parents and children in terms of hospitality may sound strange. But to do so is to speak in Christian terms. Fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, all are children of God, all share a common humanity. Children are not properties to be possessed and ruled over. Children are gifts to be cherished and cared for. In the Christian view, children carry a promise with them -- a hidden treasure which parents, as God's stewards, must lead into the open through education and example in a hospitable home. In the words of the Apostle Paul, ...if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, behold, the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to Himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. So we are ambassadors for Christ (II Corinthians 5:17-19). Reconcilers! Ambassadors for Christ! Not alienation, but reconciliation. Not hostility, but hospitality!
The story is told of a certain priest who was puzzled by a shabby old man who went into his church at noon every day and came out again almost immediately. What could he be doing? The priest decided to question the old man. "I go to pray," the old man said. "Come now," said the priest, "you are never in the church long enough to pray." To which the old man replied, "Well, you see, I don't try to pray a long prayer every day at twelve o'clock. I just go into church and say, 'Jesus, it's Ted.' It's just a little prayer, but I guess He hears me."
Sometime later, Ted was injured and taken to a hospital. There, he had a wonderful influence on the entire ward. Grumbling patients became cheerful, and often the ward would ring with laughter. One day, the supervising nurse said to Ted, "The other patients say that you are responsible for the remarkable change in this ward. They say that you are always cheerful." "Yes I am," Ted replied. "You see I can't help being cheerful. It's my visitor." The nurse was puzzled. She knew that Ted's chair was always empty, for he had no relatives. "When does your visitor come?" the nurse asked. "Every day," Ted answered. "Every day at noon He comes and stands at my bedside for a few seconds. I see Him and He smiles at me and says, 'Ted, it's Jesus.'"
"America's families are in deep trouble, trouble so deep and pervasive as to threaten the future of our nation..." So began an article in Time Magazine. The Time article described the alarming decline of the institution we call "family." One in four marriages ends in divorce, and the rate is climbing. At a "White House Conference on Children," a distinguished Harvard University professor paralleled the situation described in Time with the deterioration of family life in ancient Greece and Rome which led to the collapse of those civilizations. Delegates to the Conference were reminded that "No society has ever survived after its family life has deteriorated."
A father of four expressed his feelings on the subject in more intimate, non-academic terms. He said: A remarkable thing happened last night. A meeting I was supposed to attend was cancelled, and for the first time in weeks I stayed home. I made an extraordinary discovery. It was marvelous, playing with my children, listening to the radio, watching TV. I even did some reading, had a nice talk with my wife and fell asleep in my favorite easy chair. I relearned something I had forgotten, and I'm going to change my way of life. I am applying for readmittance into the organization known as Home.
Before leaving church today, close your eyes for a second or two and simply say, "Jesus, it's Jim" (or Ted or Helen or Jean or Arnel or Liam). Then, when you return home, again close your eyes for a second or two and listen: "Jim, it's Jesus...Ted, it's Jesus...Helen, it's Jesus...Jean, Arnel, Liam, it's Jesus." Greet Him with honor and respect. Receive Him with a heart that is completely open. Extend to Him the ultimate in hospitality and He will bestow on you the rank of Ambassador. Offer Him your unconditional love and He will empower you to carry out a ministry of reconciliation -- to your children, to your parents, to your brothers and sisters everywhere.
"And he arose and came to his father. But while he was yet at a distance, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him." Not alienation, but reconciliation! Not hostility, but hospitality. And it all begins at home!
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1 comment:
Fr., Haba naman nito? Extra pa ko hehehe...
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