Dear Preachers:

If you prefer stories with happy, resolved endings, today’s parable of the Prodigal Son might leave you feeling unsettled. We know the story well—perhaps too well. It can feel like old news, something we've heard so often that we assume there's nothing new to discover. After all, the parable appears only in Luke, and most churchgoers could recite it by heart. Even those outside the church are familiar with its themes. Phrases like “prodigal son” and “prodigal daughter” have become part of everyday language. We hear people say, “The prodigal has returned,” even if they’ve never set foot in a church or read the Bible. Museums, both classical and modern, frequently depict the father welcoming his wayward son home. Clearly, this story has embedded itself deeply into our culture and imagination.

But doesn’t it also leave you with lingering questions? How does the story really end? Does the younger son stay home after the celebration? Has his heart truly changed, or has he returned only for the security of food and shelter? Does he settle down and work alongside his diligent older brother, or does he once again ask for money and disappear on another reckless adventure? In other words, has he truly repented, and will his future actions reflect that change?

And what about the older brother—the responsible, hardworking son? Does his father’s plea soften his heart, leading him to join the celebration? Will he embrace his younger brother and welcome him home? Or will he turn away in resentment, feeling unappreciated for his years of loyalty, continuing to serve his father but harboring deep bitterness?

We don’t know the answers. We might assume we do, but haven’t we all struggled to break free from old patterns, even after making amends and resolving to change? Can we say with certainty that we have fully accepted God’s forgiveness and allowed it to transform our hearts? The parable is intentionally open-ended. The father has shown love to both sons, meeting each where they are. Now, the choice is theirs—will they allow his love to change them? If their hearts have been touched, we should expect to see that reflected in their actions.

One thing is clear: the father has done all he can. He has shown compassion, humility, forgiveness, and acceptance. The real question is whether his love has truly reached his sons’ hearts. Do they recognize him not just as a father in name, but as a father in love? He has gone out to meet both of them—embracing the younger son on the road, and pleading with the older son to open his heart. If they let him in, they will be changed. The younger son, having received undeserved forgiveness, should have no desire to leave again. And the older son, having been reassured of his father’s love, should let go of resentment. The father’s words to him are telling: “My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours.” The father has given his whole self to both sons. The question remains: will they receive and be transformed by this gift?

The parable also addresses the Pharisees and scribes, who criticize Jesus for welcoming sinners: “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” Like the older brother, they have been faithful to the law and religious traditions, and they expect recognition for their diligence. But they are troubled by Jesus’ openness to those who have strayed—those who, like the younger son, are now returning in search of forgiveness. The older brother remained with his father but never truly knew him. Likewise, the Pharisees and scribes have upheld the law but failed to recognize the heart of the God they claim to serve.

This parable reminds us that there is a bit of both brothers in each of us. Most of us have tried to live faithfully, following the teachings of our faith. But like the older son, we can sometimes miss the very God we are serving. The message of the parable is clear: we must come to know God not only as a figure of authority, but as a loving, forgiving parent—one who delights in our faithfulness and welcomes us when we stray.

When we do return, what can we offer God to prove our sorrow and desire to change? Nothing. We can only accept the forgiveness freely given to us, allowing it to soften our hearts. And when others come seeking our forgiveness, we must mirror the God who ran to meet us on the road. Like the younger son, we barely have a chance to finish our rehearsed speech—before we are embraced, clothed in honor, and welcomed home.

Once we have truly absorbed the reality of God’s forgiveness, we are ready to hear Paul’s message. Today’s gospel—and indeed the entire gospel—is a story of reconciliation. In 2 Corinthians, Paul reminds us that God has taken the initiative to reconcile us to Himself through Christ. If both brothers in the parable had accepted their father’s reconciliation, their lives would have been transformed. The younger son would have embraced his father’s forgiveness by not returning to his old ways. The older son would have let go of resentment and been reconciled to both his brother and his father.

Paul tells us that through Christ, we have already been reconciled to God. We have been welcomed into the household of God’s love, invited to celebrate and rejoice. We don’t know how the two brothers in the parable ultimately responded—but we do know what we are called to do. Through our baptism, we live as reconciled people, and with this new identity, we are sent out as ambassadors of Christ. The reconciliation we have received is not meant to stay with us; it must flow through us into the world.

An ambassador speaks and acts on behalf of their nation. Likewise, we are commissioned to represent Christ—to be signs of God’s reconciling love. Our world is in desperate need of ambassadors of peace, people who bring others together rather than divide. Paul reminds us that this is our mission: to live in a way that reflects what God has done for us in Christ.

Many parishes will offer penance services this Lent, including the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Today’s readings remind us of the power of this sacrament. In Catholic tradition, the words of absolution are not merely a prayer to God on the penitent’s behalf. Instead, the priest, speaking with the authority of the Church, proclaims: “I absolve you from your sins.” It is a bold statement—one that testifies to the reality of God’s mercy. As a Church, we are called to be ambassadors of reconciliation, both in what we believe and in how we live.

The story of the Prodigal Son remains unfinished. The Pharisees and scribes criticized Jesus for welcoming sinners, but at this Eucharist, Jesus continues to do just that—reconciling us to God and feeding us with His very self. Now, we are sent into the world to be living signs of that reconciliation. We have been welcomed home. It is our turn to go out and do the same for others.

Click here for a link to this Sunday’s readings:

https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/033025-YearC.cfm