Homily for penitential service (Ezekiel 36:23-28; Psalm 51: 3-4, 12-13, 14-15; Luke 15: 1-3, 11-32)

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

Today, as we gather for this penitential service, we encounter Scripture passages that speak powerfully to the very heart of our journey of repentance and reconciliation. The readings from Ezekiel, the Psalm, and especially the parable of the Prodigal Son invite us to experience anew the transformative power of God's mercy.

In the Gospel, we hear tax collectors and sinners drawing near to Jesus, while the Pharisees and scribes murmur, "This man welcomes sinners and eats with them." In response, Jesus tells perhaps his most beloved parable – that of a father with two sons. This father's extraordinary love reveals the very heart of God.

The younger son asks for his inheritance early – essentially telling his father, "I wish you were dead." He then squanders everything in a distant country. When famine strikes, he finds himself feeding pigs – the ultimate degradation for a Jewish man – and longing to eat the pods meant for the animals. No one gives him anything.

It is at this lowest point that Scripture says, "he came to himself." This moment of clarity is the beginning of conversion. The son rehearses what he will say: "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers."

But what happens next is extraordinary. While the son is still far off, the father sees him. This suggests the father has been watching, waiting, scanning the horizon day after day, hoping for his son's return. The father runs to his son – an undignified act for an elderly man in that culture – and embraces him before the son can even complete his rehearsed speech.

The father calls for the finest robe, a ring for his finger, sandals for his feet, and the slaughter of the fattened calf. Each of these gestures is significant. The robe symbolizes restored dignity, the ring represents authority and belonging, the sandals signify freedom (as slaves went barefoot), and the fattened calf represents extraordinary celebration.

This is not merely a reinstatement – it is a lavish restoration beyond what the son could have imagined. The father declares, "This son of mine was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and has been found."

In the first reading from Ezekiel, we hear God's promise: "I will sprinkle clean water upon you to cleanse you from all your impurities, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. I will give you a new heart and place a new spirit within you, taking from your bodies your stony hearts and giving you natural hearts."

This is precisely what the sacrament of Reconciliation offers us – not just forgiveness, but transformation. God doesn't merely wipe the slate clean; He gives us a new heart. As Pope Francis reminds us, "God never tires of forgiving us; we are the ones who tire of seeking His mercy."

The Psalmist cries out, "A clean heart create for me, O God, and a steadfast spirit renew within me." This is the deepest longing of every human heart – not just to be pardoned, but to be made new.

Saint Augustine, reflecting on his own conversion, wrote: "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you." Like the prodigal son, we often search for fulfillment in places that ultimately leave us empty. We chase after possessions, pleasures, or prestige, only to discover they cannot satisfy the deepest hunger of our souls.

The elder son in the parable represents another obstacle to experiencing God's mercy – self-righteousness. When he hears the celebration, he refuses to enter. He cannot rejoice in his brother's return because he is trapped in his own sense of superiority and entitlement. "All these years I served you," he tells his father, "and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends."

The father responds with the same tender mercy he showed the younger son: "My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours." The father invites the elder son to join the celebration, but the parable ends without telling us if he accepts. The question hangs in the air for each of us: Will we join in celebrating God's mercy, or will we remain outside, clinging to our grievances?

Pope Benedict XVI taught that "Mercy is the central nucleus of the Gospel message." This penitential service offers us the opportunity to experience this mercy concretely through the sacrament of Reconciliation.

The Catechism reminds us that "Those who approach the sacrament of Penance obtain pardon from God's mercy for the offense committed against him, and are, at the same time, reconciled with the Church which they have wounded by their sins" (CCC 1422).

Brothers and sisters, tonight we have the opportunity to "come to ourselves" like the prodigal son. We can acknowledge our sins honestly, approach our heavenly Father with contrition, and experience His embrace of mercy. God doesn't just forgive our sins – He restores our dignity as His beloved children.

As we prepare for the sacrament of Reconciliation tonight, I invite you to reflect: What distant country have you wandered to? What inheritance have you squandered? What rehearsed speech have you prepared? And most importantly, can you allow yourself to be embraced by the Father who runs to meet you while you are still far off?

God promises through Ezekiel, "You shall be my people, and I will be your God." This covenant relationship is what we are invited back into tonight. The Father waits with open arms. The robe, the ring, the sandals, and the feast are prepared. All that remains is for us to come home.

Let us pray: Merciful Father, give us the courage to return to you with all our hearts. Help us to receive your mercy not as something we earn, but as your free gift of love. Create in us clean hearts and renew steadfast spirits within us. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.