I tell you, in just the same way
there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents
than over ninety-nine righteous people
who have no need of repentance.
But, we think, what about the ninety-nine? What about the joy in the fact that they have apparently not wandered, not needed to be sought by their shepherd?
Now the older son had been out in the field
and, on his way back, as he neared the house,
he heard the sound of music and dancing.
We can understand what the older son was thinking. The older brother was like a sheep that remained with the shepherd whereas the younger brother was clearly the one who was lost and sought out by the shepherd. We read that his father had been actively watching for any movement in his direction and sought him when he was still at a distant, before his words of contrition were even off of his lips.
We need to come to terms with our sympathy for those who remain because they have something in common with us. We may once have rejoiced to be the one sought out by the Lord, the Good Shepherd. But time has passed, and gradually we have became accustomed to life in the flock, or to the routine of the family household of God. We continue to see all the wonderful things God does in the lives of others to bring them home, the mighty deeds and the consolations of his presence. As we see this we risk gradually coming to begrudge it, and to envy the consolations that seem to be accorded to others but no longer to ourselves. We hear the sound of music and dancing and are not intrigued but put off. We aren't curious or eager to share in the celebration that is taking place, but upset because we feel neglected and slighted.
Look, all these years I served you
and not once did I disobey your orders;
yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends.
We may have remained near to the Father in body, but it is not necessarily the case that our hearts have remained close to him. We may be sheep imagining ourselves to be struggling to be productive and remain in the flock, so concerned about fending for ourselves that we forget about how generous the shepherd has been in caring for us. It would be comical to imagine if it weren't so tragic. But aren't there many such sheep within the sheepfold of the Church? We are together as the ninety-nine, yet all of us still manage to feel isolated and alone, troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd. The problem in such cases is not with the father's provisions for the son, nor with those of the shepherd for his sheep. The problem is with us and with our perspective. We slip from seeing ourselves as sons and sheep into seeing ourselves as laborers earning a wage. And it is for that reason that we hold a grudge when someone else is freely given what we can't seem to earn for ourselves by working for it.
My son, you are here with me always;
everything I have is yours.
These words are amazing because they apply to us as much as to the elder son. We are able to be with Jesus even daily, and to share in everything that is his, "every spiritual blessing in the heavens" (see Ephesians 1:3). Our lack of joy, the lack of celebration for us that we hold against our God, is largely self-inflicted. We have never been in the household or the flock so long that we no longer qualify for the freely given gifts of the Father and the shepherd. Even when a younger brother returns home, his feast and his joy are ours to share. His blessings only seem to be competitive with our own when we insist that our own come to us as rewards.
I tell you, in just the same way
there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents
than over ninety-nine righteous people
who have no need of repentance.
By this circuitous route we arrive at the truth. The ninety-nine who do not need repentance only imagine that they do not need it. For these are the ones, who, like us, inevitably begin to take for granted the graces they have been given. They are just as free- we are just as free- to share our master's joy as any newly repentant sinner if we will only enter wholeheartedly into the feast.
But now we must celebrate and rejoice,
because your brother was dead and has come to life again;
he was lost and has been found.
Paul, for his part, never ceased to be surprised by the grace that was at work in his life. It remained clear to him that what he received was unmerited favor, to such a degree that he seemed unable to take it for granted. He knew well enough that he had not earned what he had been given, and was constantly on the watch to warn others against going down that path.
This saying is trustworthy and deserves full acceptance:
Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.
Of these I am the foremost.
Because Paul kept this awareness of grace and maintained his gratitude for the mercy that he himself was shown he remained able to evangelize, to welcome others who were sinners like himself, and to celebrate with them as they too came home to the care of the Good Shepherd.
But for that reason I was mercifully treated,
so that in me, as the foremost,
Christ Jesus might display all his patience as an example
for those who would come to believe in him for everlasting life.
If we can keep the perspective Paul had we may hope to become intercessors for our world, as Moses was for his people. We need this perspective to remember the value of each and every individual sheep no matter how much "they have become depraved". God's judgement upon them is truly an existential threat. But it is made known to us because he himself does not delight to carry it out. He wants to use us as the means to bring these lost sheep back into the fold, that together with them, we may rejoice.
Why, O LORD, should your wrath blaze up against your own people,
whom you brought out of the land of Egypt
with such great power and with so strong a hand?
No comments:
Post a Comment