Now is the Time

Jesus’ story in our Gospel for this Sunday (Luke 16:19-31) is a contrasting story of a rich man and poor man named Lazarus.

Jesus describes the rich man as exceedingly wealthy. He is dressed in purple and fine linen -- clothes fit for royalty. He feasts sumptuously at every meal. Everything about Jesus description of the rich man implies extraordinary riches, and conspicuous consumption.

Jesus is equally descriptive of poor Lazarus. He is not just poor, but destitute and so ill that he is abandoned and without support. He left to beg at the rich man’s gate. He is so weak that he could not prevent dogs from licking his sores, which would make him unclean. Lazarus is completely out of control, and dependent on others. While he longs for help, he receives none.

Both men suddenly die. Angels carry Lazarus to the bosom of Abraham or Heaven. The rich man, on the other hand, finds himself in Hades, a place of torment. From Hades the rich man sees Abraham and begs for help. However, Abraham tells him that he cannot help him, since “a great chasm is established to prevent anyone from crossing” (Luke 16:26).

This story reminds us that at the very moment of death, our eternal fate is finally determined. We call this the Particular Judgment. This takes place immediately after death and before the Final Judgment (Matthew 25:31-46). The Catechism warns us, “Death puts an end to human life as the time open to either accepting or rejecting the divine grace manifested in Christ.”

We cannot change our eternal destiny after our death. There are no do overs or second chances. Purgatory is not a second chance for the unrighteous, but a place of purification for the blessed. The possibility of accepting or rejecting divine grace has ended.

At the end of our earthly life, there are only two possibilities, or two doors to eternity. Purgatory is not a third way, but the mud room of Heaven.

The rich man is not in torment for being rich, however, but because he did not cooperate with God’s grace and allow his heart to be fully submitted to God. Linking this story to our previous Gospel last Sunday, the rich man was called to “make friends on earth” with his unrighteous wealth (Luke 16: 9), so that he would instead have treasure in heaven.

As we observe in the life of Lazarus, we learn that the gateway to conversion is humility, complete and utter dependence on God, and submission to his will. It is precisely by being poor that Lazarus came to depend on God completely. We will explore this more next week, but faith is necessary for salvation. Faith is the full submission of the intellect and will to God with the ongoing aid of the Holy Spirit. Humility and dependence on God are necessary ingredients for the act of faith. As Jesus reminds us, “Blessed are you who are poor, for the kingdom of God is yours” (Luke 6:20).

Each one of us can also be poor in spirit (Matthew 5:3). We can humbly come before God and depend on him to give us true happiness. We can lovingly accept the sufferings of this present life, knowing that our eternal soul has far greater value than chasing the selfish dream of riches and comfort in this life. [Read more]

Make Friends for Yourselves with Dishonest Wealth

Jesus' parable in this Sunday’s Gospel (Luke 16:1-13), is very puzzling to the modern reader. Not just ordinary readers, modern biblical commentators also debate among themselves, with no clear consensus.

What puzzles us is that the steward is called dishonest by his master, but then commended for his prudence.

Normally if we think of someone who is clearly dishonest but demonstrates something that looks like prudence, we might say instead, that they are crafty, devious or cunning. We do not compliment them for acting prudently, or use them as an example of prudent behavior. Yet this seems to be what Jesus is implying.

The traditional understanding of the parable fully acknowledges the deceptive and dishonest behavior of the steward, but then understands that his behavior also conveys a practical lesson about the prudent use of money and worldly goods. So Jesus is not asking us to imitate the steward’s deception or dishonesty, but his subsequent prudence in trying to save himself from shame.

Now we can easily acknowledge that even very bad people, have some good in them. Surely we can recognize some good in everyone. Yet we must ask, are even the steward’s subsequent ‘prudent’ actions morally good?

This puzzle has led commentators to search for reasons that might clarify this behavior in a different light. There are four different approaches to explain the steward’s actions, in altering or lowering the debt owed by his debtors.

Lowering the Price

First the steward may have used his authority to simply lower the price owed on the goods. The new price would make him look good and make his master look bad for having the higher price to begin with. This behavior would be dishonest, but would in theory make his debtors like him. We are told however, that he specifically did this so that when he was removed from his stewardship, others would welcome him into their homes.

The debtors may indeed be happy with him, but what subsequent master would trust him after this behavior? In other words, does this truly look good on his resume? This seems problematic.

Giving back Unjust Interest

A second proposal is that the steward recognized that the interest rates being charged to his tenants were unjust according to the Jewish law (Exod. 22:25; Lev. 25:35–37; Deut. 15:7–8; 23:19–20. If this were true, then perhaps he is actually now acting righteously. Perhaps in modern terms he is a sort of whistleblower, who is rectifying his master’s sin of usury.

There are a number of problems with this. First the rate reductions do not seem to correspond to interest rates. First a 50% reduction then a 20 % reduction for different goods. Secondly, studies of ancient land owners suggest that they were not particularly ashamed of imposing high interest rates.

In a culture with a high regard for the principles of honor and shame, the central problem for the master would be recovering his honor when others reported that the steward was wasting his resources. Perhaps the honor of both the master and the steward are restored by these actions.

If most land owners practiced usury, however, and no one shamed masters for the practice of usury, then the steward’s resume still looks weak. In fact he would be unlikely to get a new master, since the new master would fear he would do the same thing to him. Again this is a problem for his resume.

Removing his Own Commission

A third solution is the proposal that the steward actually removed his own commission, sacrificing his own money. But again there are lots of problems. Would the steward really have charged a 50% commission on top of the debit? Of course, we actually do not even know that it was a loan, it could have been a sharecrop arrangement. The translation in the lectionary says promissory note, which would make us think of a loan, but the Greek is more general, meanings a written statement of financial accounts in general. It could refer to a contract to share the produce from a farm. The debit was also very large, around one thousand denarii, or over three year’s wages for an average laborer.

Most importantly, at the end of the parable the steward is still called the “unjust steward” (v. 8a) If the steward, by removing his commission, has done the right thing, then why is he still “unjust”? Furthermore this does not explain the later description of his behavior as “not trustworthy with what belongs to another.” If he gave back his commission, why did it belong to another? Note that he was originally reported to the master for squandering the master’s property.

Rent Remission (remissio mercedis)

A recent proposal has come to light that is intriguing. Studies of ancient sources on Roman farming practices indicate that occasionally a voluntary remission of debt could be made by the landlord. This would be considered a good business practice, for example in a year when the crops were poor. It was difficult to find new tenants, and the future hope of income in the contract, made this this temporary debt forgiveness a way to restore and maintain the future profitability of the farm. 

Perhaps the Steward employed this thinking. This might be considered by the Romans as a prudent business strategy for maintaining future profitability. Intriguing as this is, does this remove the final judgment of the steward as “unjust”?

While this seems the best solution to explain the steward’s actions, we still have the summary in “the master commended that dishonest steward for acting prudently” (16:8) and the original report of squandering the master’s property. The Greek implies this charge against him was correct.

There seems no way to avoid the traditional interpretation of the parable which fully acknowledges the unjust and dishonest behavior of the steward, but then understands that his behavior also conveys a practical lesson about the prudent use of money and worldly goods.

Jesus’s application observes,

“For the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. I tell you, make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth, so that when it fails, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings” (16:7).

We are still talking about dishonest wealth made through disreputable practices that are not those of a faithful Jew or Christian.

St. Augustine explains,

This saying can also be interpreted like this: suppose the mammon of iniquity does mean money made dishonestly. Your father made his pile by usury. He made you rich. You don’t approve of your father’s usury. Don’t be the heir to his iniquity, just be the heir to the money from iniquity. Don’t you imitate your father by being a money lender at extortionate rates. But now there’s all that pile of money in your house. Use it to make friends with the mammon of iniquity; it’s not a question of your being dishonest and giving the proceeds in alms, but of using a pile already made dishonestly. If your father had learned how to rob, you must learn how to pay out. [1]

Clearly those who encounter Jesus may find themselves in possession of dishonest wealth. How can they now respond with prudence to this situation?

We are reminded of the righteous behavior of the rich chief tax collector Zacchaeus, following his conversion. Zacchaeus promises Jesus, “Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have defrauded any one of anything, I restore it fourfold” (Luke 19:8).

Again St. Augustine notes,

There are true riches, there are false riches. False riches are what iniquity calls riches, because the true riches are to be found with God. …As for the riches which we seem to have, we seek them as a kind of remedy for our infirmity. … That’s why he said, Make yourselves friends with the riches of iniquity, not meaning the riches which you acquire by iniquity, but the riches which iniquity calls riches, though they aren’t the true riches. [2]

St. Augustine seems to want his readers to understand that he is not endorsing a kind of Robinhood mentality. We are not endorsing any Christian to continue unjust practices in acquiring wealth. Yet, if we now find ourselves in possession of mammon or worldly wealth, we must use it wisely for the kingdom.

In our Gospel, Jesus notes,

“No servant can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and mammon” (16:13).

Each person enters the kingdom enmeshed so to speak, in the baggage of this world. Having experienced true conversion we must reorder our priorities. We must serve God first, but then make prudent use of mammon, or the riches of iniquity. The example of the steward points to the use of worldly goods for a worldly end, but as God’s faithful, we can apply a similar prudence to our lives in service of God's kingdom.

Our highest priority, and the action of true prudence with worldly wealth, is to seek to help everyone to be a friend of God. Making friends with others by means of dishonest wealth, enables us to introduce them to our greatest friend, Jesus Christ.

_____________


[1] Saint Augustine, Sermons 341–400 on Various Subjects, ed. John E. Rotelle, trans. Edmund Hill, vol. 10, The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century (Hyde Park, NY: New City Press, 1992), 264.

[2] Ibid, 262–263.

Practicing the Presence of God

In Luke’s Gospel we are told that Jesus recounted the parable of the Persistent Widow to teach the people “the necessity for them to pray always without becoming weary” (Luke 18:1). The word used for necessity means a compulsion, or inner necessity and indicates something that by all means should happen.  

Jesus teaches us that we must pray always without becoming weary. 

Are we to take this literally? Perhaps it is a literary exaggeration, or a hyperbole? 

Yet St. Paul gives a similar exhortation, “Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:16–18). 

Christians throughout the ages have taken this command literally. In early monasticism, Christians retreated from earthly distractions into the desert, and literally tried to pray without ceasing. This may actually be the origin of the Hail Mary and the offices of Liturgy of the Hours. 

While a lay person can engage in similar disciplines and devotions, and this spirituality is laudable, it is clearly not practical for lay people in the midst of the world to live as these desert hermits did. Could there be another way to understand this? 

In his commentary on Psalm 38, St. Augustine comments on the verse, “Lord, before you is all my desire, and my groaning is not hidden from you.” (Psalm 38:9). 

St. Augustine notes,

This very desire is your prayer, and if your desire is continuous, your prayer is continuous too. The apostle meant what he said, Pray without ceasing (1 Thes 5:17). But can we be on our knees all the time, or prostrate ourselves continuously, or be holding up our hands uninterruptedly, that he bids us, Pray without ceasing? If we say that these things constitute prayer, I do not think we can pray without ceasing. But there is another kind of prayer that never ceases, an interior prayer that is desire.

… If you do not want to interrupt your prayer, let your desire be uninterrupted. Your continuous desire is your continuous voice. You will only fall silent if you stop loving. (Expositions of the Psalms 33–50, 9-10).

As St. Augustine notes our interior desire can be a continuous prayer even in the midst of daily life and work. The most important thing in our prayer is our heart. God invites us to share our heart and our desires with him. We can make a habit of lifting up our heart before him, and to ask him to purify our desires according to his will. As St. James reminds us, “Draw near to God and he will draw near to you” (James 4:8). Our desires will be transformed by God's loving presence in our lives. 

This does not imply that we do not also pray with words, As St. Augustine notes, 

Therefore we pray always, with insistent desire, in that same faith and hope and charity. But, we also pray to God in words at certain fixed hours and times, so that we may urge ourselves on and take note with ourselves how much progress we have made in this desire, and may rouse ourselves more earnestly to increase it. (Letter 130, p 390)

St. Augustine also notes, however, that to pray continually does not imply endless speaking. He notes, “But, to pray at length does not mean, as some think, to pray with much speaking [Matt. 6:7]. Continual longing is not the same as much speaking” (Letter 130, p. 391)

Four Ways God is Present to Us 

There are four ways the Church has understood the discipline of learning to live in the presence of God. First we can build an awareness of his loving presence in our lives, secondly we can grow in our understanding of his power, thirdly we can deepen our understanding of the implications of his essence, and finally become more aware of God’s indwelling presence.

  

Building an Awareness of God’s Loving Presence 

The first way to understand God’s presence is by building an awareness of his loving presence in our life. We use this kind of understanding in our modern culture when we say we are being present to another person. 

In recent research on couples, we have discovered that partners will often make many small bids for connection with their spouse. They might say, “Oh, what day at work!” They desire their partner to stop and focus on them, and ask about their day. If their spouse turns toward them, puts down their phone, and looks at them and listens to them, then they are truly being present to their spouse. 

We might also think of the relationship between parents and children. Perhaps a young child is afraid to visit a certain place in their house alone. They may ask the parent, “Can you go with me?” When the parent accompanies them, they are not afraid to go to this place. Another aspect of this relationship might be the child simply looking for connection. A child might say, “Daddy, watch me, I can do a handstand!” Or perhaps, “Dad, did you see that goal?” The child is looking for a sense of secure connection, and affirmation.

While it is true that our modern culture is suffering an epidemic of loneliness, we are never truly alone, because God is always with us. We can choose to cultivate an awareness of his presence, or we can allow ourselves to be distracted. This is especially true today with so many screens and social media offerings. Unfortunately, as many people have experienced during the pandemic, while sometimes helpful, a virtual presence is not the same as a real person, on a human level. 

While God is in some ways like a loving and understanding spouse, or a caring parent, this is merely an analogy. We need to trust that God’s care for us flows from his superabundant love and mercy. He always desires the best for us, and he knows us better than we know ourselves. We need to trust in the promise, “Draw near to God and he will draw near to you” (James 4:8). 

The more we grow in this awareness of God’s watchful presence in our lives, the more it becomes a source of comfort and security. Our response should be to frequently bring to mind God’s presence throughout our day, to seek to please him in what we do, and to talk to him as we go about our daily life. We can freely share all our desires with him, and trust that he will purify our intentions. When we fail, he is quick to forgive us. We can truly be vulnerable with him. We can trust that even in discipline, he desires our ultimate happiness.

Power 

When we understand God’s presence in his power we are saying that nothing happens in this world that is outside God’s control. While God does not cause evil things to happen, nothing happens that he does not at least permit. Everything that happens is in some sense from God’s hand. At times we must try to ignore the human instruments that he allows, and realize that even this is in his control. He may allow it so that some other good may come about.

By granting us freedom, he does allow us to choose paths that are not according to his will, and that lead to a false sense of happiness. In his love and mercy God, “…is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). 

We must learn that at every instance, at every moment of the world, God is guiding things by his providence. Even in the midst of suffering he is present in his power. Suffering is very much part of his plan. In becoming man, Jesus allowed himself to be joined to our sufferings. This means we are not alone, even in our sufferings. As St. Paul reminds us,

“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38–39).

Thinking about this, someone might ask, if God is already intimately involved in working out his divine plan, where does prayer come into this? Often we think of prayer in parallel to our human experience. I need to tell God about this, and then tell him what I desire, and finally to try to persuade him. 

Does God need us to inform him about these things? 

St Augustine notes, 

Words, then, are necessary for us so that we may be roused and may take note of what we are asking, but we are not to believe that the Lord has need of them, either to be informed or to be influenced (Letter 130, p. 391–392).

Pray is not a time to inform God or to persuade God. He already knows, and will act according to his divine purpose. When we pray for a favor, and it is granted in our prayer, we have not changed God’s mind. Instead what happens is, we were moved interiorly by God to pray, and we became aware of something he had already chosen to give. 

Again St. Augustine remarks, 

Consequently, that saying of the Apostle: ‘Let your petitions be made known to God,’ [Phil. 4:6] is not to be taken in the sense that they are actually made known to God, who certainly knew them before they were uttered, but that they are made known to us before God, through our patience... (Letter 130, p. 390).

In effect, God stirs our desires interiorly to seek his will and then to pray for that thing. We call this cooperating with grace. As Isaiah writes, “LORD, you will decree peace for us, for you have accomplished all we have done” (Isaiah 26:12). Prayer teaches us to increase our desire to cooperate with God’s divine plan. Every good we accomplish in this life, is in cooperation with him. The only thing we accomplish on our own is sin. 

Someone might think this is too mysterious. Does God then need to reveal his secret desires before we can pray effectively? This is not what St. Augustine suggests, 

You have heard how you are to pray; hear now what you are to ask in prayer, since this is the point about which you especially wanted my advice, being deeply moved by what the Apostle said: ‘For we know not what we should pray for as we ought,’ [Rom. 8:26] and you were afraid you might suffer more harm by not praying as you ought than by not praying at all. This can be summed up briefly thus: Pray for happiness; this is something all men wish to possess, for those who live the most wicked and depraved life would never live that way if they did not imagine themselves happy thereby. So, what else ought we to pray for except that which both bad and good desire, but which only the good attain? (Letter 130, p. 383).

Our life of prayer then should teach us to rely more and more upon God, and less and less upon ourselves. In the words of St. John the Baptist, “He must increase; I must decrease” (John 3:30). As we learn to cooperate more and more with God’s plan, we come to accept the truth of Jesus’s words, “Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).

Essence 

God is also present by his essence, he is not distant from us. One could get the impression from the previous description of God’s presence that is working from a distance. We see his watchful presence, and his hand guiding all things, and this might give the impression that these activities take place from afar. 

By his divine essence God is not only causing us to live, but to exist. We are given life when God shares his divine essence with us. It is impossible to think of this as something distant. God, in his divine essence, is the very foundation of who we are. Because of this everything we do, and every aspect of who we are, shares in his divine essence. 

In St. Paul’s missionary preaching to the Athenians at the Areopagus, he says ‘In him we live and move and have our being,’ (Acts 17:28). He notes that this saying is even echoed in some ancient Greek poets. It may even be a quotation. These inspired words of Sacred Scripture, remind us of this very truth of God’s essence within us. Whenever anything exists, it cannot be apart from God. God is at the very root of its being. 

God is the cause of our existence, and we cannot continue to exist apart from him. He holds us in existence. Yet this is not something precarious, we trust in his loving plan for us. We are reminded in Ephesians, 

“…he chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before him. In love he destined us for adoption to himself through Jesus Christ, in accord with the favor of his will” (Ephesians 1:4–5). 

If we wish to relate this truth to our prayer, it would teach us that God is not spread out over all of creation, but knows us individually and personally. He knows us by name. In fact he knows us better than we even know ourselves. 

In our human relationships, we might have closer friends who know us better than others, but there is no part of God that is missing from our life. God is never distracted or focused elsewhere. In terms of relationship, we have everything we need from him. 

Perhaps fear might enter our heart. We might think, “I’m not that important, why does God care about me?” This is to misunderstand who God is. Unlike us, he is not limited by his attention, or focus, he is always fully present and has revealed his unwavering love for each one of us as individuals. We are each precious to him. He knew our name “before the foundation of the world” and “in love he destined us for adoption.” This should teach us even more about our dependence on God.

His Indwelling 

God’s presence by indwelling this the most intimate form of his presence. If it is possible to think of something more personal than what we have already discussed, God’s presence by his indwelling is even more personal. The reason is that when God dwells in us, we then dwell in him. We are not just held in existence by his presence, we live in his presence. 

Jesus says, “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him” (John 14:23). We understand this to mean that God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit will indwell us. Jesus is promising that all three persons of the Holy Trinity will come to make their home in our soul. By his watchful care, his power and essence, God guides and sustains us, but by his indwelling he makes his home in us. Furthermore, the first three ways are available to all of creation, but the indwelling of the Holy Trinity is only available to a Christian in the state of grace. 

What this indwelling does is make us friends of God (John 15:15). In taking up residence within our hearts, this does not mean he takes up room within us, pushing us out of the way. He expands our hearts so that we become more, without giving up anything of who we are. We are changed but without being diminished in our individuality. He builds upon and transforms our nature into something new. 

As St. Paul tells us, “So whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come” (2 Corinthians 5:17). He also notes, “All of us, gazing with unveiled face on the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as from the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3:18).  

Many of the saints and doctors of the Church have especially seen this transformation as taking place in a sometimes intangible but ever growing awareness of God’s loving presence in prayer. This love is not from the senses, but spiritual. It is a divinely given thirst. This is a supernatural presence that cannot be brought about by any particular prayer technique. It is a pure gift. On the other hand it is clearly fostered by our humility, docility and cooperation in a life of prayer generally. 

Since the church has taught that there is a universal call to holiness among all the faithful regardless of their state in life, it follows that at least the beginning stages of this awareness of God’s loving presence in prayer, must be available to all Christians. This is God’s transforming presence within us. Learning to enter in to God's love in our prayer in this way, is a long but joyful journey.

_____

Augustine of Hippo, Letters (83–130), ed. Roy Joseph Deferrari, trans. Wilfrid Parsons, vol. 18, The Fathers of the Church (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 1953)

My thinking in this blog was inspired greatly by Fr. Ambrose Little, OP, and his talk Keeping Oneself in the Presence of God, which was give for the Thomistic Institute, April 2022

The Joy of Finding What is Lost

Jesus’ words in this Sunday’s Gospel (Luke 15:1-32) remind me of something that happened to me while I was living in Europe a number of years ago. I was living in a small village. I visited a local grocery store and loaded up my cart, and then proceeded to the cashier. Everything seemed normal.

There was one person in front of me so I loaded all my groceries onto the conveyor belt at the checkout. But to my utter surprise, the cashier finished counting the change for the previous customer and then turned to me and announced, “It’s time for my break. I’ll see you in 15 minutes” and promptly marched off.

I stood there for a moment in stunned silence, and then loaded up my groceries again in my cart and moved to a different checkout line. By following the rules, with complete disregard for the person standing in front of her, this casher lost all chance of connection with her customers.

I wonder if sometimes we are also tempted to act the same way, even when we are at Mass. We might have a specific tradition about the way we do things in our parish. Then a visitor joins us, and unwittingly does something differently. How do we treat them?

Someone might have a customary pew they sit in, and arrive at Mass to find it occupied. Perhaps the liturgist plays a new song that is not our list of familiar favorites. Perhaps someone new to the parish looks or acts differently, or seems to not know what is going on in the liturgy. Perhaps there is a family sitting near us struggling with young children. How do we treat these people?

It is interesting that a great deal of our inner struggle to accept others, is not about people breaking God’s law, but annoyance over our own personal preferences.

In our Gospel the Pharisee and scribes grumble against Jesus, because he is willing to eat with irreligious ‘sinners’ who appear to not really be trying to observe the Law.

The purpose of the law was to keep us in relationship with God, and ultimately to lead us to happiness. Jesus is drawn to love those who are confused about happiness. In fact, he prefers to sit with sinners!

The Pharisees and scribes focused on external appearances. They are proud of following the law, and they think they are better than others. Today the word Pharisee a bad word, meaning a religious hypocrite. I think most people would intuitively think this is not about them.

Yet each of us can examine our hearts. Am I truly imitating Jesus in his love for those on the periphery? Do I go out of my way to befriend those who others consider socially undesirable? Jesus did! With complete disregard for what others think, Jesus was deliberately friendly to socially undesirable people. He did this with the express desire of bringing them closer to God. Being lost does not remove us from God’s care. In fact God’s heart pursues them with great passion!

In each of these parables, Jesus points to the joy of finding what is lost. This is not tight-lipped, gloomy faced tolerance. I’m not happy with you, but I will put up with you. Instead it is joy!

This can be a point of pain for some people. If God goes after the one who is lost, what about the other ninety-nine? Yet clearly God loves the ninety-nine as well. He loves each one of us more than we love ourselves!

Many of us, as parents, have experienced one of our children wandering off into difficulties and painful circumstances. If we pursue this troubled child, with a father’s love, or a mother’s love, does this take away from our love for our other children? Is love like money that can be overspent and used up? If you are like me, we can easily accuse ourselves of having not loved enough, but can we ever say we loved too much?

In the heart of our heavenly Father, it is not okay that the coin or sheep are lost, they must be found. God is compelled by love and mercy to search for them. And then mysteriously, God promises that the very act of finding them and bringing them home leads to personal, communal and even heavenly joy (15:6, 9-10, 24, 32). This joy is supernatural!

In our modern world there are two opposing rocks which can shipwreck our faith (CCC 2092). One is a kind of cheap grace that seeks mercy without conversion. By befriending the lost we are not merely tolerating them, as if it is okay to be lost and remain in that state, we are seeking to find and save the lost so that they may be restored to relationship with the fold. Our friendship, acceptance and relationship are guided with the purpose of restoring each person to God's fold.

In the parable of the prodigal son, the lost young man “came to himself” and realized the error of his ways, and returned to his father in repentance saying “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you (Luke 15:18). This is clearly an image of conversion.

The other opposing rock is the attitude of the Pharisee and scribes, but also in the older brother in the parable of the prodigal son. Perhaps someone has begun to think that they have saved themselves by being good. The sight of sinners coming to repentance causes them to be jealous, and perhaps even to feel cheated. After all, they haven't been trying much harder than the wayward son.

In the words of the elder brother, “Behold, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command” (Luke 15:29). Yet, we must ask, was it this son’s obedience that earned him the title of the elder son of his father? Even for the older son, the name son is a gift from the father. He did not earn it, as the Father reminds him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (Luke 15:31).

Each one of us must imitate our Lord by seeking the lost and becoming a friend of sinners. Like our Heavenly Father we need to prioritize finding the lost. In order to begin this journey we must recognize that all that we have is from God, and pray that God would share his heart with us.

Imagine what changes would take place in our life if each of us earnestly begged God to share his love for the lost with us, and allow it to soften our hearts. Inspired by this love, let us each imitate Jesus anew by genuinely befriending those who have wandered off. We may discover in this, new found joy. Let us pray, Lord give me a passion for the lost. May it burn within me, and overflow with your joy.