Today's readings

Throughout the week I thought I was getting fresh insight into the readings for Mass today, and apparently our associate pastor was being led in a similar direction. Particularly, I thought the reading from St. Paul's first letter to Timothy brought exactly the attitude that Christians should have with regard to others. St. Paul describes himself as the foremost of sinners, and celebrates that God's mercy is greater than his failings. This attitude makes him welcoming of others who struggle along the way, even as he calls them to holiness in their lives.

And for the first time in my life, I realized that the first two parables that Jesus shared in today's gospel reading from St. Luke serve to focus the third one in a very different direction from that which most of us emphasize. The interplay between the younger son and the father gets so much attention in the parable that it is easy to minimize the struggles of the older brother and the effect they have on him.

Of the two brothers, the one who ultimately relies completely on his father's mercy, forsaking his right even to be called his son, is the one who is able to enter the feast. The one who has remained faithful begins to believe that he is more deserving of the gift of the Father's love. He begins to conclude that his father shouldn't love him simply because he is his son, which is a matter of no accomplishment on the older brother's part, but because he deserves to be loved as a result of his faithfulness.

This worthiness-based "gospel" is often our approach to our faith. I have lamented with friends in the past how many of us tend to approach our relationship with Christ as if we will eventually grow to a point at which we will no longer need a savior. Rather than our holiness becoming our gift of thanksgiving for all that God has done for us in making us his sons and daughters, we begin to think of it as the basis for that relationship. And when we encounter our spiritual siblings who have, in our opinion, squandered their inheritance in profligate living and sin, we build up obstacles for them, conditions they must meet before we will be willing to accept them.

I have brothers and sisters with whom I worship every week who, for their sake, I wish were making different decisions in how they interpret life and in their resulting behavioral choices. But I also encounter someone in the mirror each morning who regularly makes decisions and compromises that are not fully consistent with the complete holiness to which I am called. The degree to which I justify my standing with God on the basis of the good decisions that I think I am making -- while disregarding any effects of the bad ones -- may play a role in my tendency to judge others as not belonging at the table. But those whom I might tend to exclude, the Father longs to restore to their rightful place, and if I am not willing to accept that, I will not be able to take my place at the family feast.

The older brother even disdainfully emphasizes "this son of yours" rather than acknowledging any relationship with his brother. But as long as I insist that I am not another's brother, I will exclude myself from the feast. The father in the parable doesn't insist that the older brother join the feast; he meets him where he is, doesn't dismiss his concerns, and offers him a different point of view as he reinforces his status. But the choice of the oldest brother is before us as well: we can stand on our own righteous worthiness, but that will invariably leave us choosing to remain apart from the feast, for everyone who enters is unworthy, and knows it.

Personally, I have given St. Paul enough of a run for the title of "the foremost of sinners" that I welcome anyone who would join the feast, even as we are all called to greater holiness together -- which, of course, allows us to feast more fully!