March 7,
2013 Daniel
Daring Daniel's
previous reflections
Coming Home -
Fourth Sunday of Lent
Joshua 5:9, 10-12; 2 Corinthians 5:17-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11-32
He
was sitting in a train on his way back home. It was spring time, the month of
May, with flowers blooming and birds announcing the victory over winter. Two
months were left to the end of the school year, but James was not going to
graduate. He was kicked out from his school for drinking and having a fight with
one of his teachers. How was he going to break this news to his parents? He was
already anticipating the anger of his father, and he was not sure about the
reaction of his mother. Reflecting upon his life now, while being somber, he had
to acknowledge a major defeat. Without a good job, he was nowhere in life, and
he just squandered a great chance of having a good profession.
Rich in
mercy
I
think you are familiar with this painting of Rembrandt, The
return of the Prodigal Son. We see an old man embracing his son and
three figures to the right observing the scene. We can easily guess that these
three men are the Pharisees and the teachers of the law who complained that
Jesus welcomed sinners and ate with them (Luke 15:2). The shabby clothes of the
son speak about the ordeal of his experience; the gentle face of the old man and
his embrace speak about gentleness and compassion of God. But it is the hands,
placed at the shoulders of the son that captures the attention: one strong and
muscular, the other soft and tender.
The
Bible has two expressions that describe the English word, mercy. The first one is hesed.
It stands for kindness/goodness that is rooted in a commitment to a
relationship. God committed himself to a relationship with His people Israel,
and nothing could break that commitment: no betrayal, no sin. Even if the people
of God had gone astray and committed abominable things, God – bound by His own
word – could not break that relationship. The Psalmist beseeches the Lord for
mercy relying on God’s faithfulness to His own commitment: “For the sake of
your name, O Lord, forgive my iniquity, though it is great” (Psalm 25:11). And
the prophet Ezekiel makes it clear that it is for His Holy Name that God
forgives and restores his people, not because of what Israel did (Ezekiel
36:22). This dimension of mercy can be viewed as strong and muscular.
The
second word that describes mercy is rahªmim.
It is rooted in the word rehem –
womb. It describes the love of a mother for her children. It connotes all
those feelings that we tend to associate with our mothers: kindness, gentleness,
patience and understanding. It is the assurance of the unbreakable love that
absolutely nothing can undermine. My mother once told me: “No matter what you
will do, you will always be my son.” And the Bible places these words on the
lips of God: “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no
compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget
you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands” (Isaiah 49:15-16).
These two aspects of mercy – masculine and feminine – may help us understand
how God loves us and is concerned with our lives. “But because of his great
love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we
were dead in transgressions – it is by grace you have been saved” (Ephesians
2:4-5).
Filled
with compassion
Unknown
to many is the picture of Frank Wesley, an Indian artist, The
Prodigal Son. In this painting, we do not see spectators. We see a half
naked son hiding himself in the arms of the father, so ashamed that he does not
even dare to look at his father’s face. The face of the father is hidden in
his embrace of the son. His forehead touches the arm of the son, his right hand
strongly holds the son’s head, and the embrace of his left hand brings the son
closer to him. The son seems to be falling. He places his right hand on the
right arm of the father. We can sense a deep tragedy of a broken dream, a broken
life. “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was
filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and
kissed him” (Luke 15:20).
The
painting conveys the tragedy of sinful life. Sin robs us of our dignity. We are
naked. It makes us ashamed to look into the eyes of others. It leads to
destruction; we barely have energy to walk. But the painting also conveys the
Good News about God’s mercy. Looking at the tragedy that has overtaken our
lives, seeing the consequences of our choices, God is so moved with compassion
that he runs to us in order to console, sustain and lift us up. The Psalmist
correctly says that where God’s compassion is, there is life. “Let your
compassion come to me that I may live” (Psalm 119:77).
Conclusion
– Return Home
Only
those who failed in life know how much they need mercy. They long to know that
they are still worthy, that they have their dignity and that life can still
begin anew. We can be rejected by our own “brothers” (Luke 15:25-28) –
people who consider themselves righteous. But, the parable told by Jesus assures
us that God is waiting for us. Let me end this reflection with the song from
HillSong:
Before
the world began, you were on His mind
And
every tear you cry is precious in His eyes (. . .);
Nothing
you can do could make Him love you more
And
nothing that you’ve done could make Him close the door (. . .);
Come
to the Father, though your gift is small
Broken
hearts, broken lives, He will take them all.
The
power of the Word, the power of His blood
Everything
was done so you would come.