The depth and extent of God’s mercy confound the wisdom of the world. The Pharisees were aghast that the Lord would dine with sinners and tax collectors. They couldn’t understand what these undesirables could possibly have done to merit the Lord’s attention. They were thinking with human wisdom, thinking equitably. Thinking about fairness. People ought to get what they deserve. Good behavior should be rewarded with blessings, bad behavior with a curse. An eye for an eye. This is the wisdom of the world; it’s the wisdom the Pharisees brought to bear. But this is not the wisdom of God. And jolly good for us. Because we are all sinners. Whoever we are, we’ve all done things worthy of condemnation. As the Psalm says, “Even the just man sins seven times a day.” We should shudder at the thought of being treated fairly, at getting what we deserve. But thanks be to God, his will is directed to salvation. His thoughts are of mercy, and his justice is perfectly satisfied by the sacrifice of Christ who bears all our sins as only God himself could.
The Lord gives us three images to help us understand how radical his mercy is, how thoroughly his wisdom transcends the wisdom of the age. First we have the parable of the shepherd who mislays one of his sheep, and then abandons all the others to go in search of the lost one. Now Christ’s question is not so very straightforward: “Who would not leave the 99 in the desert to go after the lost one?” Well, the answer is: No one in his right mind would do that. It’s utterly insane to leave 99% of your flock helpless and vulnerable in order to save just a single one who’s foolishly wandered off. But that’s the love of God: he will do whatever it takes to provide us the means of salvation. He will be reckless with his mercy. He will even send his Son to die the death of a criminal. For us. Then we have the parable of the lost coin. Again, a perplexing question: “What woman, having lost a single coin, would not gather her friends and relations to celebrate when she finds it again?” The answer is, no one would do that. Can you imagine if your perfectly well-off friend phoned you and said: Come on over! I’m having the neighborhood over for drinks because I found 10 bucks in the sofa cushion. That would be bizarre. But again, that’s the love of God. Just like the single coin is beloved of this woman, each and every soul is precious to God. Even though there are billions of human souls, he loves each one with great love; and the court of heaven rejoices when a single one is saved from loss.
Finally, the great parable of the prodigal son. One of those most magnificent passages of Sacred Scripture which can be a source of deep reflection for us again and again. There are many figures in the parable with whom we might sympathize. We might see ourselves in the prodigal son himself, feeling weighed down by our sins and the seeking of earthly pleasures. We might see ourselves in the father of the story, if we have a family member or friend who’s fallen into difficulty and whose conversion of life and return to God’s grace we long for: whatever they’ve done, all we want is for them to be healed. We might see ourselves in the elder son, finding ourselves slightly annoyed that God’s grace is so openly available to those who have not always tried to avoid sin and pursue virtue as perhaps we have. I suspect in ourselves we see a bit of all three. But what we should see and embrace more than anything is the generosity and joy of God’s mercy. He never welcomes us back grudgingly or half-heartedly. If we have sinned, even very seriously, and we return to him with sincerity, he has nothing but joy at our return. And the kingdom of heaven feasts at the conversion of a single sinner. This is the wisdom of God. It is a wisdom of cosmic perspective. It’s the wisdom of a God who’s willing to play the “long game” with us. A wisdom rooted in love, with an eye on the final destiny for which souls are created. In Christ, justice and mercy are brought to unity and perfection, and by his wisdom we are saved.