The Father’s Embrace (4th Sunday Lent C)

“I don’t want my father to see me like this.” Many of us must have said this to ourselves during those times when we were not doing well in life and we didn't want to offend our father. Especially if our father has high expectations of us, we tend to hide our weaknesses and failures from him. We come to him only when we are fine and strong and at the top of the world. We want to show him how we have mastered ourselves and that we have clear directions in life. We want to please him. We want him to be proud of us. So, when we are not fine and our lives are a mess, we hide from him. We conceal our tears. We bear our suffering alone... because what we cannot bear is to see our father displeased and to experience being rejected by him.

This can be true to our spiritual life. How often we keep God at bay and allow our relationship with him to get colder each day because we have resigned to our feeling of unworthiness! I know, for instance, of someone whose prayer life is most intense when he thinks he has been doing well in life and he has been faithful to the Christian virtues. But when he thinks he has succumbed to his imperfections, he distances himself from God and waits until he has made himself fine again. It’s as if he can overcome his weaknesses apart from God!

Such is a lonely and wearisome life; because when things in life are in shambles, what we really need is a father’s embrace where we can cry our hearts out. In moments of huge failures, what we deeply long for is a father’s reassuring smile and a supportive pat on the back promising another chance.

In today’s gospel reading (Lk 15:1-3, 11-32) Jesus introduces such a gentle and loving Father through a parable. In the Parable of the Lost Son, it is striking to realize that when the wayward son comes back, the father does not care about WHY he comes back. He does not scrutinize his son’s motive which is not quite noble but is, in fact, still very selfish. The son returns not because of a perfect contrite heart and a burning desire to love his father this time around. No. He comes back for survival and self-preservation. He has been starving, so he thinks he’ll be better off as one of his father’s servants. But the father does not care whether or not his son comes back with a contrite heart. What he cares about is that his beloved son is back! So the father embraces his son without any conditions... without requirements. He embraces him as a son. The father accepts him not in the son’s conditional terms but in the terms known to the father—the terms of an unconditional love.

This thought is very consoling. The words of the spiritual writer, Henri Nouwen, bring this out well: “God does not require a pure heart before embracing us. Even if we return only because following our desires has failed to bring happiness, God will take us back... Even if we return because our sins did not offer as much satisfaction as we had hoped, God will take us back. Even if we return because we could not make it on our own, God will receive us. God’s love does not require any explanations about why we are returning. God is glad to see us home and wants to give us all we desire, just for being home.”

So why should we listen to the fearful voice that discourages us to come to the Father when we are not in good shape? We ought to listen, instead, to the voice of longing that calls out from the deepest recesses of our hearts for a gentle embrace of acceptance despite our hopeless inadequacies. Only God, our Father, can give us such an embrace. Only our Father embraces us as we truly are, warts and all.

This is why the season of Lent is as beautiful as the spring. It is a season when the Father’s loving embrace is waiting for us, his wayward sons and daughters, who have been chilling from the deadening coldness of our sins. God’s embrace is the warmth we desperately need in order to outgrow our freezing habits of sin.

In this season of Lent, we are invited to take refuge in God’s loving embrace. We come to him not because we are doing fine but especially because our mess is getting out of hand. We return to him not because our spiritual achievement is something that he can be proud of, but precisely because we are empty. We allow his arms to wrap around us not because we are whole but exactly because we are broken.

Father, I come to you in my brokenness repeatedly humiliated by sin. I’m ugly and not pleasing to you. But please... I beg you Father... embrace me just the same. Allow me to rest in the warmth of your love.

Season of Second Chances (3rd Sunday Lent C)

Once more, Victor Hugo’s novel Les Misérables (1862) comes to mind as I reflect on today’s gospel reading. The encounter between the protagonist, Jean Valjean, and Bishop Myriel is a powerful illustration of the grace of second chances.

Jean Valjean, who has just been freed from prison after long years of serving an unjust sentence for stealing bread for the starving family of his sister, has nowhere to go. He is hurt, filled with hatred, and is vengeful. No one trusts him. One day he comes to the place of Bishop Myriel and asks for shelter. Bishop Myriel is a just man and sympathetic toward the poor. With his characteristic compassion, he readily offers Valjean room and board. Not only that, he counsels Valjean to overcome his hatred with goodwill in order to be worthy of respect.

Valjean listens; but during the night, he robs the good bishop anyway and runs away with the bishop's silverware. Once caught, he is brought back to the bishop. However, the bishop tells the police that the precious objects are his gifts to Valjean. Later Bishop Myriel tells Valjean: "You belong no longer to evil, but to good. It is your soul I am buying for you. I withdraw it from dark thoughts and from the spirit of perdition and I give it to God!" Valjean is stunned. After stealing yet a coin from a little boy, he has an epiphany and since then lives his life anew.

Although Hugo’s novel is primarily a social critique on the oppression and injustices done against the poor, the weak, and the ignorant, it can instruct us spiritually too. The above excerpt illustrates the gospel’s call to repentance and the loving assurance of second chances in life.

In today’s gospel (Lk 13:1-9) two disasters (the killing of the Galileans and the Siloam tower tragedy) are being referred to, in the popular Jewish understanding, as God’s punishment for the sinners—very much like our concept of “gaba.” Jesus corrects this belief and teaches that what destroys is not God’s vengeance but our resistance to repent and change our lives: “But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will perish as they did” (v. 3, 5).

This is followed by the parable of the fig tree: For three years of waiting, the owner observes that the fig tree has failed to bear fruits. Even if the owner seems to be at the end of his rope, he nevertheless listens to the appeal of the vinedresser to give the tree one more year to bear fruits. If it does not, then it should be cut so as not to exhaust and put to waste the soil.

The simplicity of the parable expresses very clearly the necessity of repentance from a life lived in vain. God desires that we be fruitful. And not only that, he gives us the grace that we need to lead fruitful lives. He is willing to give us our second chance.

Bishop Myriel has manifested to Valjean such transforming mercy. Valjean, on his part, grabs the opportunity to make a radical change in his life and later in the lives of other people. Valjean has been given his second chance and he takes it. Once he does, he proves to be fruitful.

Lent can be for us a season of God’s mercy, God’s offer of a second chance. In this third week of Lent, we are invited to grab the opportunity to make meaningful changes in our lives. We are asked to examine the areas in our lives that have become stagnant and fruitless—perhaps because of anger and hatred? Or of self-pity and insecurities? Of addiction to pleasure and forms of vices? Of self-centeredness and lack of faith?

Let us ask the grace of repentance, of sorrow, of shame for wasting the beautiful opportunities of Christian life. With God’s grace, may we have a strong resolve to make use of our second chances to grow in Christian virtues thus allowing us to flourish and please God with our fruitful lives.

Lord, I am very sorry for my complacency. In your mercy, enable me to change, to grow, to do more and be more. Amen.

Transfiguration Brings Hope (2nd Sunday Lent C)

The event of the Transfiguration, where Jesus is revealed in His glory on the mountain, has so much to offer us as we journey through the season of Lent. It offers us hope in this year of the Jubilee.

We hear that Jesus went up the mountain to pray, and while He prayed, His face changed in appearance, and His clothes became dazzling white. Then, two great figures of the Old Testament, Moses and Elijah, appeared and spoke with Him. The disciples, Peter, James, and John, who were with Jesus, saw His glory. And then, a voice came from the cloud: “This is my chosen Son; listen to Him” (Lk 9:35).

This experience was not just a moment of glory, but it had a purpose. It came right after Jesus had spoken to His disciples about His coming passion and death. They were about to face a time of great confusion, fear, and uncertainty. So, what does Jesus do? He gives them a glimpse of His divine glory, a promise of what was to come—the glory of the Resurrection after the suffering of the Cross.

And isn't that exactly what we need, too? As we walk through Lent, a season where we are called to reflect on the suffering Christ endured for our sins, it's easy to become overwhelmed by the darkness of the world or even our own failures. The weight of our sins, our struggles, our personal suffering—it can feel heavy. But the Transfiguration, this shining moment of glory, reminds us that the darkness and destructiveness of sin do not have the last word. God's grace, His transformative love, and the hope of Easter have the final say.

We are, in a sense, invited to be pilgrims of hope during this season. Just as Peter, James, and John witnessed the glory of Jesus on the mountain, so we too are called to witness God's glory in our lives.

Three invitations in this Lenten season:

First, Trust in the Promise of Glory.  The Transfiguration is a reminder that suffering and death are not the end of the story. For the disciples, this moment on the mountain was like a foretaste of the joy that would come with Jesus' Resurrection. In the same way, as we journey through Lent and reflect on the suffering of Christ, we are reminded that God's glory will always shine brighter than the darkness of sin.

As we face our own struggles in life—whether physical, emotional, or spiritual—we are called to trust in God's ultimate promise. Yes, there will be moments of pain, moments where we feel lost or unsure, but we can hold onto the hope that the story doesn't end in despair. Christ's Resurrection is the ultimate victory, and we are invited to live in that hope.

Second, Listen More Closely to Christ. In the Gospel, God speaks directly to the disciples: "This is my chosen Son; listen to Him." (Luke 9:35). God doesn't just want us to see His glory; He wants us to listen to the words of Jesus, to the way He calls us to live, to the way He leads us into a deeper relationship with the Father.

This Lent, how can we listen more closely to Christ? It's easy to be distracted by the noise around us, by the demands of our daily lives. But God is inviting us into a deeper relationship. Are we making time each day to listen to His voice in Scripture? Are we opening our hearts to the wisdom He offers through prayer? In this season of Lent, let's commit to taking time to listen to Jesus, to hear what He wants to say to us.

Third, Be Witnesses of Hope to Others. The Transfiguration was not just for the disciples to experience in isolation. It was meant to be shared. Peter wanted to build three tents and stay on the mountain, but Jesus led them back down to continue the mission. The glory they witnessed was not for them alone; it was for the world.

Likewise, we are called to be witnesses of the hope we've received. Into the world filled with pain, fear, and confusion, we are called to carry the light of Christ, to be pilgrims of hope . This Lent, how can we share that hope with others? Perhaps through an act of kindness? A listening ear? or sharing the message of Christ's love through our Alay Kapwa?

We are called to let the glory we've experienced shine through our actions.

As we continue this Lenten journey, let us cling to the beautiful memory of the Transfiguration. In the midst of our suffering and our struggles, let's hold onto the hope of the glory of Christ. Let us listen more closely to Him, and let us share that hope with the world. For in Christ, the light of glory will always shine brighter than the darkness of sin. This is, indeed, hope.