Lost and Found in the Heart of the Father (Micah 7:14-15,18-20. Luke 15:1-3,11-32).

Dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ, Peace and Love of Christ be with you!!!

We are gradually coming to the end of the 2^nd week of Lent and getting ready to enter into the 3^rd week. Maybe, this week-end could be an opportunity to evaluate the journey we have made so far.  At the heart of today’s first reading is a reminder that we have a “Covenant God”. God continues to invite us to come back to Him with all our hearts, mind, soul, spirit, will and rediscover His Mercy.

During this Lenten season, the Word of God invites us to see conversion not as a punishment, but as a journey back home, a return to the God who delights in mercy and runs to meet His children. Through the cry of the prophet Micah and the parable of the merciful father, we are reminded that no matter how far we stray, God’s love is greater. Lent is our moment to rise, return, and be embraced.

In the first reading from Micah, the prophet lifts up a prayer full of longing and hope. Israel had sinned and wandered, but Micah dares to speak to God with confidence: He cries:

“Shepherd your people with your staff… as in the days of old.”

Micah speaks to a people wounded by exile and sin, yet he dares to hope. He remembers what God has done before, how He delivered His people from slavery in Egypt, how He worked wonders. Because he knows who God is. And he proclaims it with power:

“Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives transgression… who does not stay angry forever but delights in showing mercy?”

Ah, what a beautiful line: God delights in mercy! He doesn't show it reluctantly. He’s not a judge who grudgingly signs our release. No! Mercy is His delight! It is His joy, His nature, His glory. Lent, then, is about rediscovering the joy of being found by a God who never tires of forgiving.

And then the prophet lifts our gaze to the mighty deeds of the past:

“As in the days when you came out of Egypt, I will show them wonders.”

Micah is reminding Israe, and us, of the God who breaks chains, who opens seas, who leads His people with light and fire. The God of Exodus is still the God of today. And this Lent, He calls each one of us to believe in His mercy afresh, to remember, to return, and to rejoice.

This brings us to one of the most beloved parables in the Gospel: the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:1-3, 11-32). But perhaps today, we should rename it: The Parable of the Merciful Father.

The Parable of the Merciful Father

Jesus tells us of a son who demands his inheritance early, a symbolic way of saying to his father, “I wish you were dead.” He leaves, squanders, sins, falls to the lowest pit, feeding pigs, craving their food. But then, he comes to his senses. He realizes how miserable he was. This awareness of how our sins render us miserable is the beginning of conversion.  And that, dear friends, is the turning point.

Lent is precisely this moment of awakening. A time to recognize that we’ve strayed. A time to admit, with humility, that life away from the Father leaves us empty and starving.

And what happens when the son returns? Before he can utter his confession, the father runs to him. He embraces him. He restores his dignity, robe, ring, sandals. He throws a feast. Why? Because:

“This son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and is found.”

What an image of God’s mercy! He doesn’t hold a grudge. He doesn’t shame us. He runs to meet us.

But the story doesn't end there. The elder son, dutiful and obedient, refuses to join the celebration. He resents the mercy shown to his brother. How often we, too, struggle to accept that God is more generous than we are! Yet the Father’s words to him are just as tender:

“My son, you are always with me, and all I have is yours.”

Both sons were lost in different ways. One in sin, the other in self-righteousness. But the Father goes out to both. He invites both into the joy of mercy.

Beloved friends, what does this mean for us this Lent?

It means no one is too far gone. No pit is too deep. No sin is too dark. God is not waiting to scold us. He is waiting to run to us. To kiss us. To dress our wounds. To feast with us.

It also means we must guard our hearts from becoming like the elder son, jealous, cold, rigid. Lent is not a time to compare ourselves to others, but to encounter the boundless mercy of God personally, and to become ambassadors of that mercy to others.

So, whether you identify more with the rebellious younger son, or the resentful elder brother, the call is the same: Come home to the Father. Let Him embrace you. Let Him change you.

And when He does, go and do likewise. Be a minister of reconciliation, a witness to the God “who delights in mercy,” and whose arms are always open.

My dear friends, whether you see yourself in the younger son who strayed, or in the older son who stayed but grew distant in heart, the message is the same:

The Father wants us home.

This Lent is about grace and not hiding in guilt, but  rising in mercy. God is not waiting to punish us, He is waiting to embrace us. To clothe us again in dignity. To lead us into the joy of His house.

So let us return, through prayer, through confession, through acts of love and mercy. Let us step back into the arms of the One who delights in mercy and who calls each of us by name.

Let us come home!.