Sunday Meditation: The Shame of the Prodigal Son

In the Fourth Sunday of Lent in year C we get another parable, this time the Parable of the Prodigal Son.  Three years ago when we had this Gospel reading I posted I embedded a clip the movie Jesus of Nazareth with Jesus telling this parable, and I also embedded a clip from Dr. Brant Pitre whose exegesis of the parable focused on the older son.  It’s worth looking back if you have the time.  This year I’d like to focus on the younger son who in many ways stands for all we sinners as we make our way back to our Father in heaven.

 

Tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to Jesus,

but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain, saying,

“This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

So to them Jesus addressed this parable:

“A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father,

‘Father give me the share of your estate that should come to me.’

So the father divided the property between them.

After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings

and set off to a distant country

where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation.

When he had freely spent everything,

a severe famine struck that country,

and he found himself in dire need.

So he hired himself out to one of the local citizens

who sent him to his farm to tend the swine.

And he longed to eat his fill of the pods on which the swine fed,

but nobody gave him any.

Coming to his senses he thought,

‘How many of my father’s hired workers

have more than enough food to eat,

but here am I, dying from hunger.

I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him,

“Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.

I no longer deserve to be called your son;

treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers.”’

So he got up and went back to his father.

While he was still a long way off,

his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion.

He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him.

His son said to him,

‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you;

I no longer deserve to be called your son.’

But his father ordered his servants,

‘Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him;

put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.

Take the fattened calf and slaughter it.

Then let us celebrate with a feast,

because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again;

he was lost, and has been found.’

Then the celebration began.

Now the older son had been out in the field

and, on his way back, as he neared the house,

he heard the sound of music and dancing.

He called one of the servants and asked what this might mean.

The servant said to him,

‘Your brother has returned

and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf

because he has him back safe and sound.’

He became angry,

and when he refused to enter the house,

his father came out and pleaded with him.

He said to his father in reply,

‘Look, all these years I served you

and not once did I disobey your orders;

yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends.

But when your son returns

who swallowed up your property with prostitutes,

for him you slaughter the fattened calf.’

He said to him,

‘My son, you are here with me always;

everything I have is yours.

But now we must celebrate and rejoice,

because your brother was dead and has come to life again;

he was lost and has been found.'"

~Lk 15:1-3, 11-32

Fr. Geoffrey Plant has a great explanation of what a parable is, and what this parable means. 

I thought it insightful that this parable in Chapter 15 of Luke is the culmination of a series of parables, three in all, where something lost is found.  As to what a parable is, Fr. Geoffrey quotes a C.C. Dodd on the four aspects of a parable:

·         A metaphor or simile

·         Drawn from nature or common life

·         Arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness

·         Leaves the mind in sufficient doubt about its precise application to tease it into active thought

I would add something else from my reading of Jesus’s parables over the years.  A parable is so simple a narrative construct that we can apply it to our lives rather than project a self-contained story.  The meaning is only fulfilled by projecting our lives into the story.

There is so much other good information in Fr. Geoffrey’s homily, such as who were the Pharisees, what should the name of the parable be, and the concept of shame and honor.  Also Fr. Geoffrey questions the sincerity of the returning son.  Do you think the son was sincere?  I think so, but I can see Fr. Geoffrey’s point.  What do you think?

For the pastoral homily I really liked Fr. Joseph Mary of the Capuchin Franciscans with his vlog, A Simple Word. 

 

 

Sunday Meditation: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son”

 

For the hymn I may shock people with this selection.  It’s from the Rolling Stones—yes, the famous rock group that has a number of songs idolizing intemperance.  But they also recorded a cover version of a Gospel/Blues song, “Prodigal Son,” written and performed by Reverend Robert Wilkins.    Here is the Stones’ version.

 

If you didn’t catch the lyrics, here they are:

 

Prodigal Son

(Wilkins)

 

Well a poor boy took his father's bread and started down the road

Started down the road

Took all he had and started down the road

Going out in this world, where God only knows

And that'll be the way to get along

 

Well poor boy spent all he had, famine come in the land

Famine come in the land

Spent all he had and famine come in the land

Said, "I believe I'll go and hire me to some man"

And that'll be the way I'll get along

 

Well, man said, "I'll give you a job for to feed my swine

For to feed my swine

I'll give you a job for to feed my swine"

Boy stood there and hung his head and cried

`Cause that is no way to get along

 

Said, "I believe I'll ride, believe I'll go back home

Believe I'll go back home

Believe I'll ride, believe I'll go back home

Or down the road as far as I can go"

And that'll be the way to get along

 

Well, father said, "See my son coming home to me

Coming home to me"

Father ran and fell down on his knees

Said, "Sing and praise, Lord have mercy on me"

Mercy

 

Oh poor boy stood there, hung his head and cried

Hung his head and cried

Poor boy stood and hung his head and cried

Said, "Father will you look on me as a child?"

Yeah

 

Well father said, "Eldest son, kill the fatted calf,

Call the family round

Kill that calf and call the family round

My son was lost but now he is found

'Cause that's the way for us to get along"

Hey 

 

It’s not exactly a well-known Stones song, but it’s a great rendition.  Actually it’s better than the original.  You can find the Wilkins’ version on the internet.  The Stones version is condensed into a sharper song structure.

Literature in the News: 100th Anniversary of Flannery O’Connor’s Birth

March 25^th was not only the Feast Day of the Annunciation, but also the anniversary of the birth of Flannery O’Connor.  And this year, 2025, marked the 100^th anniversary.  In another post I’m going to provide my analysis of a short story of hers I recently read, “The Displaced Person,” a story you may not have ever heard except if you’re a big devotee of her work.  Before I get to that, I’m going to do a commemoration of her life.  She remains a model for me as a Catholic writer.

 

The Smithsonian Magazine has a beautiful tribute to her life and work, with lots of pictures and a couple of embedded videos.  In her short life of thirty-nine years she produced 31 short stories, two published novels, another novel that was unfinished but posthumously published, letters, journals, essays, and other writings.  Apparently she sat down to write every day which is what a good writer needs to do.  She has been quite influential.  From the Smithsonian article titled, “Flannery O’Connor Wanted to Shake Her Readers Awake. Her Family Wanted Her to Write theNext ‘Gone With the Wind’” by Ellen Wexler:

 

March 25, 2025, would have been O’Connor’s 100th birthday. As the many events and exhibitions surrounding her centenary attest, interest in the author’s work has only deepened since her death in 1964 at age 39. In recent years, scholars have published her prayer journal and her unfinished novel; her life has been the subject of the award-winning documentary Flannery and a star-studded 2023 biographical drama. Her influence on American culture is unparalleled: O’Connor’s stories have inspired writers such as Cormac McCarthy, Alice Munro, Alice McDermott and George Saunders; musicians like Bruce Springsteen, Lucinda Williams, Sufjan Stevens and Josh Ritter; and filmmakers like the Coen brothers and Quentin Tarantino.

To be frank, I only know her work from her short stories, of which I have read about ten.  I’ve posted detailed analysis of two of her short stories here on Ashes From Burnt Roses, “A Good Man is Hard to Find” in three posts, (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3) and “Greenleaf” in two posts (Part 1, Part 2).  Feel free to peruse the posts.

There are some interesting insights in Ellen Wexler’s piece.  She really condenses O’Connor’s vision of fiction into this quote she takes from an O’Connor essay.

 

“People are always complaining that the modern novelist has no hope and that the picture he paints of the world is unbearable,” she wrote in an essay titled “The Nature and Aim of Fiction.” “The only answer to this is that people without hope do not write novels. … I’m always highly irritated by people who imply that writing fiction is an escape from reality. It is a plunge into reality and it’s very shocking to the system.”

That essay, “The Nature and Aim of Fiction” is an important read for writers, and more on that later.  Wexler continues on O’Connor’s philosophy of great fiction.

She relished in the unusual and the mysterious, arguing that the ability to understand good fiction belonged only to the “kind of mind that is willing to have its sense of mystery deepened by contact with reality, and its sense of reality deepened by contact with mystery.”

Mystery deepened by reality, reality deepened by mystery.  That’s almost like looking into a mirror and the mirror looking into another mirror.  As a writer, O’Connor believed fiction should be brutally honest and avoid sentimentality. 

“Flannery saw in Catholicism and in her Southern culture a strong inclination to avoid honesty,” says Bruce Gentry, editor of the Flannery O’Connor Review at Georgia College & State University. “Her own unflinching honesty was a reaction against the extremities of Catholic piety and Southern niceness. She might not have gone so far with her honesty if she weren’t inclined to fix the groups she belonged to.”

Wexler concludes O’Connor’s vision of fiction with an understanding that the work needs to reach a moment of redemption.

O’Connor believed that redemption often came “at considerable cost,” an idea that’s “implicit in the Christian view of the world.” As such, her characters can’t reach their moments of reckoning on their own. Instead, they need a push. They need to be shaken awake. O’Connor’s job was to do the shaking.

O’Connor would wind up falling ill with Lupus, the genetic disease that killed her father, and thus ending her promising life in the literary centers of the country.  She was forced to move down to her mother’s house in Milledgeville, Georgia, where she would write her best work, all the while suffering from the debilitating disease.  Lupus would ultimately kill her too at the age of 39.  Wexler’s well-written article takes you through her life, her approach to writing, and through some of her work.

This is a great little TED-ED short video summing up why you should read Flannery O'Connor.

###

In her essay, “The Nature and Aim of Fiction,” O’Connor highlights the various elements of what she conceptualizes as the art of fiction.   I’m not going to go through everything she says, but one of the most important elements is the ability of the writer to create an experience through the story and one does that by use of the five senses.  She gives an example from Gustave Flaubert’s novel, Madam Bovary.

All the sentences in Madame Bo"Vary could be examined with wonder, but there is one in particular that always stops me in admiration. Flaubert has just shown us Emma at the piano with Charles watching her. He says, "She struck the notes with aplomb and ran from top to bottom of the keyboard without a break. Thus shaken up, the old instrument, whose strings buzzed, could be heard at the other end of the village when the window was open, and often the bailiff's clerk, passing along the highroad, bareheaded and in list slippers, stopped to listen, his sheet of paper in his hand."

Why is this sentence so arresting?  O’Connor finds it amazing that the piano sound buzzes in the room while a clerk at the other end of town in his “list slippers” hears it.  A detail of sound, one of the five senses, in one room that we cannot visually see but can see pressing of the keys, incorporating both the auditory and visual senses, travels across town to a clerk that we can also visually see, across some distance of space hearing the auditory sound.  In addition, we don’t actually hear the piano, since it’s only an allusion with words on a page, but we imagine the sound as readers in our minds.  She sums this up with, “It's always necessary to remember that the fiction writer is much less immediately concerned with grand ideas and bristling emotions than he is with putting list slippers on clerks.”

It is this accumulation of detail—details selected for purpose—that creates the story.  She will go on to tell what kind of vision of details the story writer needs to have.  I don’t have the time and space for this but let me jump to her conclusion when it comes to details.

People have a habit of saying, "What is the theme of your story?" and they expect you to give them a statement: "The theme of my story is the economic pressure of the machine on the middle class"—or some such absurdity. And when they've got a statement like that, they go off happy and feel it is no longer necessary to read the story. 

Some people have the notion that you read the story and then climb out of it into the meaning, but for the fiction writer himself the wholes tory is the meaning, because it is an experience, not an abstraction. 

That is speaking of story by what it is not, but O’Connor feels that is the best way for a teacher to pass on the craft of storytelling.  She does finally explain that the art of any medium has been explained by St. Thomas Aquinas.

St. Thomas called art "reason in making." This is a very cold and very beautiful definition, and if it is unpopular today, this is because reason has lost ground among us. As grace and nature have been separated, so imagination and reason have been separated, and this always means an end to art. The artist uses his reason to discover an answering reason in everything he sees. For him, to be reasonable is to find, in the object, in the situation, in the sequence, the spirit which makes it itself. This is not an easy or simple thing to do. It is to intrude upon the timeless, and that is only done by the violence of a single- minded respect for the truth.

It seems to suggest that the artist is trying to apply reason to human characters and situation to find what is truth in them and their fate.  It is not thematic but experiential.  I will show how she does this in my upcoming analysis of her short story, “The Displaced Person.”

###

And so, after one hundred years of her birth, let us not saddened by her early death and the huge loss to literature, but let us be thankful for what she gave us in her short life, a wealth of fiction of the highest art.

Personal Note: 2025 Baseball Season Begins

Tomorrow marks the beginning of the 2025 baseball season, and as you know I am a big baseball fan.  As you also should know, I am a huge Baltimore Orioles fan.  I have been an Orioles fan since I was eight years old in 1970.  That was their greatest year where they ran away with it all and won the World Series in five games.  How could I not be a fan for life at that point?

 

From 1970 to today is 54 seasons!  Gosh, where has life gone?  I have been intimate with the Orioles for all these years.  Through thick and thin I have been a devoted fan, and there were some very many thin years where suffering is putting it mildly.  However, they have built a great young team the last few years, and have made the playoffs the last two.  They are about to take the next step to possibly the World Series, but unfortunately they have been plagued with quite a few pitching injuries.  On the positive side, other teams have also succumbed to a number of pitching injuries.  (The long list of pitching injuries across the majors the last few years is very mysterious and disconcerting to say the least.)  Can the Orioles get back into the playoffs and take a World Series?  Here are my predictions for the season.

 

Maybe this is a good time for my prediction for the season. If you have been reading my comments, and if you remember, I had laid down a mark of 90 wins as a prediction. The offense is solid. I think this is an even better offense than last year where we averaged over 5 runs per game. I think the offense matches last year and possibly does better. The defense is just as solid. Infield defense is solid with the question mark of Holliday at second. Hopefully he's grown and I'll trust those who claim he's a potential superstar. I'll really believe it when I see it but I tend to believe it. The infield overall is above average. The outfield defense with the addition of O'Neill and Lauriano is even better than last year. This outfield could be defensively elite all around. And I think there is plenty of depth both in the outfield and infield. Catching between the two is at least average if not a shade above. I have no issues with our defense at any position.

 

All the question marks are in the pitching. With Grayson injured, this starting staff is pretty average. Without Grayson, there is no top of the rotation starter. Sugano is a complete unknown, and he looked great until he was crushed his last start. Morton is good but he's 41 and he was never an ace. Eflin is our best starter and while he had a great second half last year (that's what everyone remembers) he's never been a true ace and he's due for regression. The second half of last season is not his career norm. Povich is a rookie, one doesn't know how good Grayson will be when he comes back, nor how long he will last given his injury prone career. I think it was very smart to pick up Kyle Gibson, and that may prove what gets us into the playoffs. And this staff is old. Will it be crafty old or tired old? Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that, given the ages, the clubhouse refrigerator is going to be stocked with prune juice.

 

The bullpen is an even bigger concern. Bautista will not be Bautista out of the starting gate. It will take time for him to recover. Kittridge's injury hurts. Cano handles lefties but is questionable against righties, and he lets an inordinate amount of inherited runners score. Cionel is inconsistent, so is Soto. His ERA over the last two years is around 4.50. He looks great at times and then gets hit. And what can we say about Seranthony. He just had what I call a California wildfire spring. He was torched worse this spring than the California forest fires. He came out of spring training with a 19.50 ERA! He had a 4.45 ERA last year, and slightly better than that the previous year. He gives up too many home runs. He will have to prove to me he is reliable. Akin is the only bright spot in the bullpen. I have total trust in Akin and I expect a great year.

 

So does the great offense and defense overcome the questionable pitching? We're lucky that the other teams in the division have their own question marks. I'm going to say we get to 90 wins and make the playoffs, but if the pitching collapses, look for a .500 season. If the pitching does better than I have projected, then we can beat 90 wins. I hope that is the case.

Go O’s!!!!

Sunday Meditation: Tragedy and Still Bearing Fruit

On the First Sunday of Lent, we saw Jesus meet the Devil in the desert as He underwent temptations.  On the Second Sunday, we saw Jesus go up a mountain and be transfigured before three of His disciples.  So one comes to the Third Sunday of Lent expecting an even greater scene, but what we get is a simple parable of the fig tree.  That would strike us as a letdown.  But Jesus prefaces the parable with two monumental events: Pilate butchering some Galileans at the Temple and the collapse of a tower killing eighteen people.  What’s the connection?  It’s a very Lenten connection.

 

Some people told Jesus about the Galileans

whose blood Pilate had mingled with the blood of their sacrifices.

Jesus said to them in reply,

“Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way

they were greater sinners than all other Galileans?

By no means!

But I tell you, if you do not repent,

you will all perish as they did!

Or those eighteen people who were killed

when the tower at Siloam fell on them—

do you think they were more guilty

than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem?

By no means!

But I tell you, if you do not repent,

you will all perish as they did!”

 

And he told them this parable:

“There once was a person who had a fig tree planted in his orchard,

and when he came in search of fruit on it but found none,

he said to the gardener,

‘For three years now I have come in search of fruit on this fig tree

but have found none.

So cut it down.

Why should it exhaust the soil?’

He said to him in reply,

‘Sir, leave it for this year also,

and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it;

it may bear fruit in the future.

If not you can cut it down.’”

~Lk 13:1-9

What really catches my eye on this passage are the two tragedies that Jesus alludes to.  I can’t say I ever really noticed them before.  First He says that the sins of those who met the tragic ends were not the cause of the tragedy.  And then He implores everyone to repent of their sins.  Is this a contradiction?  Fr. Tim Peters in his Catholic Bible Studies explains.

Untimely death can cause you to be perished if you have not repented.  So which is the real tragedy, the catastrophic death or the forever separated from God?  I hadn’t posted Fr. Tim before, but I really like his Bible Studies.

Here is another priest I have not posted before for the pastoral homily, Fr. Eric De La Pena, a Franciscan Friar of the Companions of St. Anthony.

 

 

Sunday Meditation: “Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future.”

 

 

Instead of a hymn, I want to share this short homily by Fr. Vincent Bernhard who provides another great insight on this rich Gospel passage. 

 

Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving tends to the ground which will bear fruit. 

Sunday Meditation: The Mountain of Transfiguration

Last week, the First Sunday of Lent, the Lord took us with Him to the Desert where we saw Him overcome three temptations from the Devil.  On the Second Sunday, the Lord takes us up a mountain to reveal to us the Glorification of our future bodies.

 

Jesus took Peter, John, and James

and went up the mountain to pray.

While he was praying his face changed in appearance

and his clothing became dazzling white.

And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah,

who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus

that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem.

Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep,

but becoming fully awake,

they saw his glory and the two men standing with him.

As they were about to part from him, Peter said to Jesus,

“Master, it is good that we are here;

let us make three tents,

one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”

But he did not know what he was saying.

While he was still speaking,

a cloud came and cast a shadow over them,

and they became frightened when they entered the cloud.

Then from the cloud came a voice that said,

“This is my chosen Son; listen to him.”

After the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone.

They fell silent and did not at that time

tell anyone what they had seen.

~Lk 9:28-36

Three years ago on that Second Sunday of Lent, I highlighted how Luke is the only Transfiguration account that mentions that Jesus spoke to Moses and Elijah on Jesus’s exodus that was to come.  I had Dr. Brant Pitre’s video embedded to explain it.  You might want to check it out.  

This week Bishop Robert Barron provides the best exegesis of this passage.

 For the pastoral homily I’m going to hand it over to Fr. Sam French from Australia. 

 Fr. Sam calls himself The Average Shepherd.  He's not so average, he's above average.  ;)

One of the details of this passage that neither of the two homilies touched on that caught my eye in this reading is the moment of darkness that comes upon the three apostles.  God in the cloud descends upon them and they are frightened.  Look at the first reading and the darkness that frightens Abraham.

 

Sunday Meditation: “While he was still speaking, a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud.”

 

For a hymn, let’s turn to John Michael Talbot’s “Sing to the Mountains”

 

Have a blessed Sunday.