The Morning After
In the fifteenth chapter of Luke’s Gospel, we read of a beautiful scene where tax collectors and sinners were “drawing near” to Jesus. For the first time in a very long time, the tax collectors and sinners felt comfortable coming close to someone. The lives that they were living up to that point made them outcasts amongst their own people; yet, with Jesus there was something different. As they drew near him - even in the midst of their sin - they felt known, loved, and received in a way that illuminated their dignity. The closer they came to Christ, the easier it was to remember who they truly were.
In the midst of a sinner’s encounter with mercy, we hear how this display of love was seen by the local religious leaders: “And the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” (Luke 15:2)
In response, Jesus offers three parables that could help not only the scribes and Pharisees, but also the sinners around him, recognize the absolute joy that rings out in heaven over the conversion of one soul. First, he speaks of leaving 99 sheep behind to go after the one that was lost. Second, Jesus uses an image of a woman losing one of her 10 coins, searching diligently for it, and rejoicing with her neighbors when she finds it. The last parable in this chapter - the story of the Prodigal Son - has been inspiration for so many as we have all probably found ourselves in the position of someone who has wandered far from God; someone who has been jealous of another’s return; and, even in the place of the Father - constantly looking out to the horizon, awaiting the return of of loved one who has strayed far from God’s love.
Each of these parables contain so much to reflect on, so, in order to avoid keeping you hostage to this article, I wanted to focus on just one part of the last parable. In fact, the part that I want to focus on isn’t even found in the parable of the Prodigal Son - I want to focus on the morning after.
When the sun rose after a night of celebrating his return and the son who once lived in filth now found himself waking up in a comfortable bed, what went through his mind?
The ragged clothes he returned wearing were replaced with something new and beautiful. His empty stomach was probably still full from the fattened calf from the night before. His hands, once covered in filth, are now adorned with a ring - a sign of the deep affection that his father has for him.
What went through his mind?
He was safe in his father’s house, but even when surrounded by so many signs of love, perhaps all of it felt a bit alien to the son that was once lost. After living such a reckless and squandered life, everything that was meant to be a foundation of his identity in his father’s eyes may have served as a reminder of everything that he once took for granted. When returning from his destitute life, he wasn’t expecting any of this. “But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.” (Luke 15:17-19)
Returning home to have his father put a fine robe around him, a ring on his finger, and new shoes on his feet could have felt so good in the moment, but in the cold light of the morning that same robe, ring, and pair of shoes could feel...painful.
“I don’t deserve this.”
“I shouldn’t even be here.”
“My father couldn’t really mean any of this. Soon he’ll see me for what I am and take everything back.”
Our own sin - especially sins that we seem to struggle with over and over again - can lead us to the same place. We can go to confession, receive absolution, and yet the pain of what we have done or the life we have led can lead us to look around and think - “I don’t really belong here.”
We can come to believe that the love and mercy offered by the Father was a mistake or, if we do actually believe that we were forgiven, we may find that all kinds of thoughts can start to creep in that want to convince us that we didn’t really deserve forgiveness, that we shouldn’t even be in the presence of God, or that He somehow is going to pull the “mercy” rug out from under us at the last second, laughing as we fall into the fiery pits of hell.
Hopefully, our understanding of how God has revealed Himself to us can help us recognize how contrary these lies are to the reality of our loving God; however, when we are recovering from the effects of sin, these lies can sometimes sound surprisingly convincing. Where else in my life have I been received back in such a total and restorative way? Do I really trust any person in this world to the point that I really believe they accepted my apology and forgave me? When I mess up again - and I will probably mess up again - haven’t others just held my mistakes over my head, mocking me for trying to be something more than my failures? Why would God be any different?
In the morning light of mercy, when we should see with greater clarity, the effects of sin can still lead us to believe the worst lies about ourselves, others, and even God.
If we have ever found ourselves at the point where the lies seem to scream so loudly, it’s important to always return to the foundation of who we are - to respond to the lies with the Truth of our identity. Our baptismal identity - being a beloved child of God - is meant to be the standard against which all things are measured to be true or false, consistent or inconsistent, life-giving or life-taking. If the lies about ourselves, God, or others start to creep in, measure them against your filial identity as being a beloved child of God.
For example, perhaps we have gotten into the habit of speaking about ourselves in incredibly awful and harsh ways. When we make a mistake we use words like “idiot” or say things like, “I’m garbage.” Measure these words or phrases against your baptismal identity. Does the Father see you as garbage, an idiot, or simply a series of failures? No. He see you as His beloved son or daughter - one who He delights in deeply.
When our words or thoughts about others turn to tearing them down, mocking them, or not giving them the benefit of the doubt, measure it against your filial identity. Is speaking or even thinking about a person this way consistent with my childhood in God’s eyes? As a child of God themselves, is this consistent with their filial dignity?
Even when the lies start to creep in about who God is and what He is capable of, we can always return to our fundamental identity. Am I truly trusting my heavenly Father or do I doubt His capacity for love and mercy? Do I really believe that He is bigger than all of my sins or do I only give Him permission to love me in the parts of my life that aren’t a mess?
Our baptisms weren’t some kind of performance ritual that happened years ago that has no bearing on our lives today. Baptism is the basis of the whole Christian life (CCC 1213). When we were baptized, we became a new creature - an adopted child of God, a co-heir with Christ himself (CCC 1265). The dignity that we received in baptism is something that we carry with us for the rest of our lives. Worldly ambition and a host of other desires can lead us to a sort of spiritual amnesia where we forget whose we are. We can come to believe that we are only as good as our promotions, achievements, and accolades. We can begin to measure our worth based on transitory goods.
As the tax collectors and sinners came close to Christ in Luke 15 we see that, maybe for the first time, they began to measure their worth against something other than worldly gain, desires, and sin. Having a meaningful encounter with Christ stirs up a deep need within us to be known, seen, and loved as a true child of God. We can seek this encounter with Christ every day. We can spend time in prayer coming close to him - hearing him speak our name and reminding us of our baptismal identity. When we draw near to him, the scribes and Pharisees in our own hearts and minds vanish as we no longer wonder why he allows us to come close to him. We no longer doubt the goodness of being in his presence - we simply allow ourselves to be loved, even the messiest parts that we bring to him - knowing that there is no place he would rather be and no place that he would rather have us be than close to his own heart.