MI 7: 14-15, 18-20
PS 103: 1-2, 3-4, 9-10, 11-12
LK 15: 1-3, 11-32
“Your brother was dead has come to life again; he was lost
and has been found.”
Ah, the prodigal son parable. I toss the word “prodigal” around in my daily
life fairly loosely. My “prodigal roommate” will return to our room after long
expanses of time in the library, or my “prodigal Nalgene” always seems to find
its way back to me no matter how many times I’ve left it in the biology labs.
The two words used to describe the prodigal son that
particularly resonate with me are “lost” and “dead.” We all know how it feels
to be lost – I chronically have no idea where I’m going, but I also often lose
sight of things that are important. I am the prodigal son as he demands his
inheritance when I take my gifts, talents, and passions and use them
exclusively for self-promotion and personal gain. I am the prodigal son as he
squanders his money when I over-invest myself in clubs and organizations with
the intention building my resume. I am the prodigal son as he longs to eat from
the pig trough when I allow myself to prioritize earthly pleasures and
successes over the deep joy found in genuine fellowship and friendship.
And “dead.” How often do we find ourselves dormant in our
faith? In our relationships? In our lives? I see the Lenten season as a
challenge for action. So let us come ALIVE this Lenten season. Let us turn that
love, compassion, and humility the father has for his sons to our own brothers
and sisters. Our father is waiting with open arms. He celebrates our return.
“My
Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I
cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the
fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am
actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact
please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I
will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you
will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore
will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of
death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me
to face my perils alone.” – Thomas Merton
Meg Buckley is a junior in the College of Public Health and Social Justice.
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