Rejoicing Over the Wrong Son? – A God Who Breaks Our Expectations
First Reading: Joshua 5:9-12
Responsorial Psalm: Ps 33(34):2-7
Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 5:17-21
Gospel: Luke 15:1-3,11-32
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In everyday life, it is natural for parents to find joy in the children who behave well, achieve excellence, bring honour to the family, and follow the values instilled in them. These are the ones parents boast about, celebrate, and introduce proudly to others. But imagine a situation where a child has squandered family resources, lived shamefully, brought public disgrace, and suddenly returns home. Now picture the parents throwing a lavish feast for this child, not a quiet welcome, but a loud celebration. Imagine them placing expensive clothes and jewellery on the very one who brought them shame. To many, that would seem bizarre, unfair, and even offensive. Yet this is precisely what this Sunday’s message is all about, mirroring the mystery of Easter itself. The joy of Easter, which we anticipate during Lent, especially on Laetare Sunday, is a celebration not of the righteous, but of sinners – those who were lost and have been found. As St. Paul writes, “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). Christ’s death and resurrection are not a reward for the holy, but a rescue mission for the fallen. Needless to say, He rose to bring new life to the broken, not to applaud the self-satisfied. That is the shocking reason for joy, and it is why, even in Lent, the Church calls us to anticipate this strange and beautiful joy. This anticipation of Easter joy is liturgically marked on the Fourth Sunday of Lent – Laetare Sunday.
The word Laetare is Latin, meaning “Rejoice!” It is the first word of the entrance antiphon taken from Isaiah 66:10: “Laetare Jerusalem: et conventum facite omnes qui diligitis eam”—“Rejoice, O Jerusalem, and come together all you that love her.” Unlike other Sundays in Lent, Laetare Sunday interrupts the tone of solemnity and calls the faithful to anticipate the joy of Easter. This happens on the Fourth Sunday, not the fifth, because it sits precisely at the midpoint of Lent, offering a sort of spiritual exhale before the final stretch toward Holy Week. It is like a glimmer of resurrection light peeking through the shadows of penance. The rose-coloured vestments worn today capture that mood: a softened purple, representing hope mingled with penance, joy not divorced from repentance. Today, we rejoice not because the penance is over, but because redemption is drawing near.
The first reading from Joshua 5:9a, 10–12 mirrors this shift toward joy within the historical and liturgical context of Israel’s journey. The Israelites have finally crossed the Jordan into the Promised Land after forty years of wandering in the desert – a symbol of purification and preparation. The Sitz im Leben here is post-wilderness, pre-establishment, and God says to them, “Today I have removed the reproach of Egypt from you.” The Hebrew word used here (cherpah) for “reproach” carries the sense of disgrace or shame. God is lifting shame, and the people respond by celebrating the Passover – the feast of deliverance. Like the prodigal son returning to the Father, Israel is entering a land not earned but received. They no longer eat manna; instead, they enjoy the fruit of the land, which is a sign that God has now restored them. It is a moment of rejoicing not because of human achievement but divine generosity.
The Responsorial Psalm (Psalm 34) continues this same movement of joy born from redemption. It invites us: “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” This is not a call to celebrate merit but to experience mercy. The Psalmist does not speak as one who has always done right, but as one who has been delivered: “This poor one cried, and the Lord heard him.” Joy here is not reserved for the righteous but made available to the broken who turn to God. This is the emotional and theological bridge to today’s Gospel, where joy is found not in who deserves it but in who receives mercy.
Similarly, in today’s Gospel Reading (Luke 15:1–3, 11–32), Jesus responds to the Pharisees and scribes who are scandalized that He welcomes sinners and eats with them. The Sitz im Leben is clear: Jesus is challenging the self-righteous worldview of the religious elite. He tells a story not merely of a wayward son, but of a Father whose actions are provocatively generous. The Gospel is deliberately troubling. The Greek word used when the Father sees the son from afar is splagchnizomai: a verb that expresses deep gut-wrenching compassion, which is indeed the parable’s emotional core: seeing his son “while he was still a long way off”, a detail implying constant anticipation. He runs, embraces, and kisses the boy – actions socially unbecoming of a dignified patriarch. The new robe symbolises restored dignity, the ring signifies reinstated authority, and the sandals imply freedom. The fattened calf is reserved not for a religious feast but for this one scandalous moment: a feast for a failed son. The father is, in fact, the truly prodigal one: wastefully extravagant with mercy, joy, and love. This is the scandal of divine grace. The story closes with the bitter elder son, representing those who struggle with God’s justice. The shock is not only that the younger son is forgiven, but that he is celebrated. Joy, according to Jesus, is most at home where mercy is received, not where self-righteousness is preserved. The Greek word for rejoicing here is euphrainō, used in the father’s statement: “We had to celebrate and rejoice” (Lk 15:32).
This theme is amplified in the Second Reading (2 Corinthians 5:17–21), where Paul insists that anyone in Christ is a new creation. The language is not gradual improvement, it is complete re-creation. God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them. This is scandalous grace. Reconciliation is not a response to repentance; it initiates it. The Church, as ambassador of this reconciliation, is called to proclaim a message that shocks: God is not interested in tallying sins but in restoring communion. That is why this Sunday is a call to rejoice; it celebrates divine mercy extended toward those least worthy of it.
What practical lessons can we draw from this Sunday? First, that grace is offensive. We prefer a system where the good are rewarded and the bad are punished. But God’s justice is mercy. Many Catholics subconsciously believe their obedience should earn divine favour. Yet the Father rejoices not in the son’s performance but in his return. Lent, then, is not a moral contest but an invitation to come home, no matter how far we’ve gone.
Second, we must interrogate our own bitterness. The elder son lives in the house, obeys the rules, yet harbours resentment. His obedience lacks joy because it lacks love. Many practising Christians today are elder sons – externally faithful but internally estranged. True obedience is not reluctant compliance but joyful communion. If we find ourselves annoyed by God’s mercy to others, it may be a sign we’ve misunderstood the Gospel ourselves. Like the elder brother, many of us believe we should be celebrated for our faithfulness, and we struggle when others are welcomed back after falling away. This parable exposes our tendency to measure grace in human terms. The Gospel dares us to rejoice not only in God’s mercy to us but in His mercy to those we think don’t deserve it. If we cannot celebrate the return of a lost soul, we may not yet understand the heart of the Father.
Third, the father’s joy is not triggered by explanations or apologies, but by presence. He sees his son: dirty, broken, rehearsing a confession, and he runs. In the confessional, God doesn’t wait for us to get the words right; He meets us with the embrace of absolution. Lent is not a season to prove our worth, but to return to the God who sees us from afar and rejoices.
Fourth, the Church must become the Father’s house, not the elder brother’s courtroom. The prodigal’s return was met with music, dancing, and a feast. How often do our communities reflect that spirit of welcome? Are we places where sinners fear judgment or places where the lost find joy? Laetare Sunday reminds us that joy is the aroma of grace. The Church must wear the rose garments not only liturgically, but spiritually, celebrating every return, not calculating who deserves what.
In the end, the Gospel is not about two sons, but one prodigal Father. He rejoices not over the wrong son, but over the return of the beloved. And His joy, which is utterly irrational by human standards is the only reason we’re saved. That is the reason for Laetare. That is the reason for Easter. And that is the reason to rejoice!
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?
In the end, the Gospel is not about two sons, but one prodigal Father…….
“He rejoices not over the wrong son, but over the return of the beloved”
This is thought provoking Fr. Thanks so much for sharing