The “Party” We Refuse To Attend
First Reading: Micah 7:14-15,18-20
Responsorial Psalm: Ps 102(103):1-4,9-12
Gospel: Luke 15:1-3,11-32
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There are moments in life when, instead of celebrating someone else’s joy, we sulk in silence or even walk away entirely. A sibling returns home after years of rebellion, but rather than welcoming them, we recall every past offence. A colleague receives a promotion after being forgiven for a serious mistake, and we can’t bring ourselves to congratulate them. A parishioner who left the Church in scandal comes back and receives Communion, and instead of rejoicing, we whisper criticism. These moments reveal a painful truth: sometimes, we refuse to attend the party because we believe the returning person doesn’t deserve a second chance. This reflection challenges that resistance within us and brings us to the theme: “The Party We Refuse to Attend.” At its heart, this is a story of how we often place limits on God’s mercy and become blind to our own need for it. We convince ourselves that mercy is earned, not given freely – and when someone else receives what we think they don’t deserve, we recoil rather than rejoice.
The first reading from the prophet Micah (7:14–15, 18–20) is a hymn to divine mercy. Its “sitz im leben” (Life setting) is a community seeking restoration after judgement and exile. The people of Israel had sinned repeatedly, and yet Micah proclaims a God who pardons guilt, passes over transgressions, and delights not in punishment but in mercy. The Hebrew word used here for mercy, ḥesed, conveys a steadfast, covenantal love – one that is not based on the worthiness of the recipient but on the faithfulness of God. This mercy leads God to “cast all our sins into the depths of the sea.” But how do we respond when God shows this same mercy to someone else – especially someone we have condemned? Micah’s generation, like many in ours, had to face the uncomfortable truth that God’s mercy was bigger than their preferences or prejudices. Just as they longed to be restored, they also had to accept that others, even those they looked down upon, would also be welcomed by God. Mercy, in Micah’s vision, is not a private favour; it is a communal gift that invites us all into a celebration of grace.
The responsorial Psalm (103) deepens this perspective. It praises a God who “does not deal with us according to our sins,” but who heals, redeems, and crowns us with compassion. This psalm is deeply personal, yet profoundly communal. The God it describes removes our sins “as far as the east is from the west.” The psalmist has grasped something that eludes many religious people: God’s mercy does not match human calculations. It exceeds them.
This leads us to the Gospel of Luke (15:1–3, 11–32), where Jesus tells the parable of the Prodigal Son. Its “sitz im leben” lies in Jesus responding to the Pharisees and scribes, who were scandalized that He welcomed sinners and ate with them. The story builds to its dramatic ending – not just with the return of the lost son, but with the bitter refusal of the elder brother to join the celebration. The Greek root word for celebration or “feast” used in verse 24 is “euphrainō,” meaning to rejoice or make joyful. Yet the older son, though physically near, remains emotionally and spiritually distant. His refusal to enter the feast mirrors our own refusal to celebrate the mercy shown to others. He obeyed all the rules, yet missed the heart of his father. The real tragedy is not just the younger son’s initial rebellion, but the older son’s hardened resentment. The party was never about reward – it was about reconciliation. And many today, like the elder brother, stay outside not because they are excluded, but because they cannot bear to see grace extended beyond their comfort zone.
We must ask ourselves hard questions: Are we truly glad when the lost are found, or do we keep score of their sins? Do we see ourselves as entitled to grace while others must earn it? Lent is a time to examine whether we are standing outside the Father’s house, refusing to enter because someone else received mercy “too easily.” The Church today cannot just speak of God’s love; we must become communities of welcome, joy, and restored relationships. When people return after years away from the faith, do we celebrate them or quietly condemn them? Do we forgive truly, or do we maintain silent grudges behind pious appearances? The party the Father throws is a symbol of the Kingdom, and refusing to attend it is, in effect, refusing to accept God’s way of doing things. Let us not make the mistake of the elder brother, who obeyed outwardly but misunderstood the heart of the Father. The invitation to rejoice is for everyone, but we must choose to enter. If we truly believe in mercy, then we must celebrate it wherever it appears – even when it surprises us.
O that today you would listen to his VOICE, harden not your hearts! (Ps. 95:7)
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Shalom!
© Fr. Chinaka Justin Mbaeri, OSJ
Seminário Padre Pedro Magnone, São Paulo, Brazil
nozickcjoe@gmail.com / fadacjay@gmail.com
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Have you prayed your rosary today?