Monday, March 25, 2013

EASTER SUNDAY (C)



Please go to >> http://www.ponderouspondering.blogspot.com/2007/04/easter-sunday.html

Monday, March 11, 2013

5th SUNDAY OF LENT (C)


Please go to >> 5th Sunday of Lent 2010

NOTE FROM THE NEW AMERICAN BIBLE:

[7:53–8:11] The story of the woman caught in adultery is a later insertion here, missing from all early Greek manuscripts.

A Western text-type insertion, attested mainly in Old Latin translations, it is found in different places in different manuscripts: here, or after Jn 7:36 or at the end of this gospel, or after Lk 21:38, or at the end of that gospel.

There are many non-Johannine features in the language, and there are also many doubtful readings within the passage. The style and motifs are similar to those of Luke, and it fits better with the general situation at the end of Lk 21: but it was probably inserted here because of the allusion to Jer 17:13 (cf. note on Jn 8:6) and the statement, “I do not judge anyone,” in Jn 8:15.

The Catholic Church accepts this passage as canonical scripture.

Monday, March 04, 2013

4th SUNDAY OF LENT (C)


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.’
Lk 15: 1-3. 11-32

For exegesis by verse, please click >> 4th SUNDAY OF LENT 2010


FROM G.B. CAIRD


This story is the best known and best loved of all the parables of Jesus, justly treasured for its exquisite literary grace and penetrating delineation of character as well as for its assurance of a divine mercy surpassing all expectation.

But the traditional title - 'The Prodigal Son' - does less than justice to the purpose of the parable, as the opening sentence makes clear. 'There was a man who had two sons', and he lost them both, one in a foreign country, the other behind a barricade of self-righteousness. The elder contrived, without leaving home, to be as far away from his father as ever his brother was in the heathen pigsty.

Both brothers were selfish, though in totally different ways. The selfishness of the younger brother was a reckless love of life. He asked for his patrimony because he wanted to savour to the full the manifold delights the world could offer, not foreseeing that truant independence would lead to penury and ignoble serfdom. The selfishness of the older brother was less obvious and less vulnerable. He asked for nothing, desired nothing, enjoyed nothing. He devoted himself dutifully to his father's service, never disobeying a command of his father, and thought, no doubt, that he was the model of unselfishness; yet he himself was the centre of his every thought, so that he was incapable of entering sympathetically into his father's joys and sorrows.

It was common practice for a man, during his lifetime, to make over his property to his heirs by deed of gift, retaining the life rent for himself The younger son persuaded his father to do this, but also to give him immediate control of the inheritance which, in the ordinary course of events, would have come to him at his father's death. This explains why, at a later stage in the story, the father could say to the other son, 'all that is mine is yours', though he himself was still master of the family farm.

We are not told in detail how the younger son squandered his fortune. His brother, not trying to be just, let alone charitable, chose to believe that he had added profligacy to extravagance, but he had no more evidence for the harlots than his imagination and bad temper could supply.

One way or another, however, the prodigal was reduced to extremity: to a Jew no fate could be more degrading than to feed pigs for a Gentile master. Adversity brought him to his senses, calling up memories of comfort and security, once heedlessly enjoyed and now forfeited, compelling him to admit to himself that he had been a fool, steeling him to make a similar admission to his father.

Yet even at this stage he knew too little of his father to think in terms of forgiveness and restoration. It took the impetuous munificence of his father's welcome, interrupting his carefully rehearsed confession and blotting out the recollection of disgrace, to make him realize, as he had never realized before, what it meant to be his father's son; 'they began to make merry', and the prodigal began to discover at home what he had sought in vain among the counterfeit pleasures of the far country.

The elder son displays an unattractive facet of his personality with every word he speaks. When he hears the merriment, his impulse is not to join in but to ask for an explanation. The news of his brother's return sets him thinking of his own rights and deserts, jealously supposing himself to be wronged because his brother is treated with more than justice.

When his father pleads with him, he interrupts with a harsh protest, which contains perhaps more truth than he intended - 'Look how many years I have slaved for you'; working for his father has been an unrewarding servitude, and the obedience he is so proud of has been slavish and mercenary, never filial. He disowns his brother, calling him 'this son of yours', and putting the worst possible construction on his conduct.

The father refuses to be forced into taking sides with the one brother against the other; with all their shortcomings he loves them both and has never ceased to regard them as sons, though each in his own way has tried to contract out of his place in the family. He administers the gentlest of rebukes: his dear son who has remained with him all along should have understood him well enough to share his joy over 'this your brother'.

The parable leaves us with an unanswered question: did the elder son persist in his jealous rage? Or did he follow the lead of his brother, admit that he had made a fool of himself, and join the festivities? The question was left unanswered by Jesus because it was one which his listeners had to answer for themselves.

The parable was told not to offer a generous pardon to the nation's prodigals, but to entreat the respectable Jews to rejoice with God over the restoration of sinners, and to warn them that, until they learnt to do this, they would remain estranged from their heavenly father and pitifully ignorant of his true character.