The dissolute son's departure, his return, his guilt, his penitence, we have traced thus far in a twofold sermon: now let us follow the father's meeting of him, the father's goodness, the father's ineffable mercy. 'Rising,' it says, 'he came to his father; but while he was yet far off, his father saw him, and was moved with mercy, and ran, and fell upon his neck, and kissed him' (Luke 15:20). 'Rising, he came to his father.' This man rose from the ruin of mind and body: he rose from the depth of hell, reaching the heights of heaven: with the heavenly father the son rises higher by pardon than he had fallen by guilt. 'Rising, he came to his father.' He came not by the step of the feet, but by the going of the mind:
he had no need of the length of an earthly journey, because he found the short paths of the way of salvation. He knows not to seek the divine Father by the running of roads, who, seeking by faith, straightway finds him to be present to himself. 'Rising, he came to his father: but while he was yet far off.' How is he far off, who comes? Because he has not yet arrived. This one who comes, comes to penitence, but has not yet arrived at grace; he comes to the father's house, but has not yet arrived at the glory of his former estate, or garb, or honor. 'But while he was yet far off, his father saw him.' That Father saw him, who dwells on high and looks upon the lowly, and knows the high things from afar (Psalm 113:5-6). 'His father saw him.' The father saw him, that he too might be able to behold the father;
the father's gaze illumined the countenance of the coming son, so that all the darkness which had been poured round about him from his guilt might be put to flight. Such is not the darkness of night as is that which comes from the confusion of sins. Hear the prophet saying: 'My iniquities have taken hold of me, and I was not able to see' (Psalm 40:12). And elsewhere: 'My iniquities are grown heavy upon me' (Psalm 38:4). And after: 'And the light of my eyes is not with me' (ibid. 10). Night buries yesterday's light; sins bury the sense; the members confound the soul. Unless, then, the heavenly father had beamed upon the face of the returning son, and lifted the whole gloom of confusion by the light of his regard, never would this son have seen the brightness of the divine countenance.
'He saw him from afar, and was moved with mercy.' He is moved with mercy, who cannot be moved from his place; he ran, not by the advance of his body, but by the affection of his tenderness. 'He fell upon his neck.' Not by a fall of the flesh, but of compassion. 'He fell upon his neck,' to raise up the one lying thus. 'He fell upon his neck,' that by the burden of love he might lift off the burden of sins. 'Come to me,' he says, 'all you who labor and are heavy laden. Take my burden upon you, for it is light' (Matthew 11:28-30). You see that the son is aided by this father's burden, not weighed down. 'He fell upon his neck, and kissed him.' Thus the father judges, thus he amends, thus to the sinning son he gives kisses, not scourges.
The force of love does not see faults, and therefore the father redeemed his son's sins with a kiss, sealed them with an embrace, lest the father lay bare the son's crimes, lest the father defile the son. Thus the father tends the son's wounds, that he may leave no scar upon the son, no blemish upon the son. 'Blessed,' it says, 'are they whose iniquities are forgiven, and whose sins are covered' (Psalm 32:1). If this youth's deed displeases us, if his departure is dreadful — let us in no way depart from such a father. The father's countenance puts crimes to flight, expels the guilt, and drives away all wickedness and temptations. Surely, if we have departed; if by our living we have squandered the whole estate of the father in dissipation:
whatever crime and offense we have anywhere committed, if we have come wholly to the precipice of impiety, wholly to ruin, let us at some time rise again, and to such a father, invited by such an example, let us return. 'And when he saw him, he was moved with mercy, and ran, and fell upon his neck, and kissed him.' I ask, what place here is there for despair? What occasion here for excuse? What pretense here of fear? Unless perchance the meeting is feared, the kiss terrifies, the embrace disturbs, and the father is believed to seize for vengeance rather than to receive for pardon, when he draws the son with his hands, encloses him in his bosom, binds him with his arms. But this thought, destructive of life and hostile to salvation, the words that follow utterly overthrow, utterly take away:
But the father said to his servants: 'Quickly, bring forth the first robe, and clothe him, and put a golden ring upon his hand, and shoes upon his feet; and bring the fatted calf, and kill it, and let us eat and make merry: for this my son was dead, and is come to life again; he was lost, and is found.' Having heard these things, do we still delay? Do we still not return to the Father? 'Quickly, bring forth the first robe, and clothe him.' He who did not endure his son's nakedness endured his crimes: hence it is that he wished the son to be clothed by the servants before he was seen, so that the nakedness might be known to the father alone; for the father alone could not bear to behold his son's nakedness. 'Quickly, bring forth the first robe.'
This father, who did not suffer the sinner to remain in a second state, wishes to have joy more from pardon than from justice. 'Quickly, bring forth the first robe.' He did not say, 'Whence do you come? Where have you been? Where are the things you took? Why have you exchanged so great a glory for so great a shame?' but: 'Quickly, bring forth the first robe, and clothe him.' You see that the power of love does not see the offences. The father knows no tardy mercy. He who examines faults, betrays them. 'And put a ring upon his hand.' A father's tenderness is not content to restore innocence alone unless it also restores the former honour. 'And put shoes upon his feet.'
How poor he returned, who had departed enriched, and out of all his substance brings not back even shoes upon his feet! 'Put shoes upon his feet': lest the deformity of nakedness should remain even on his foot; surely too that, shod, he might return to the course of his former life. 'And bring the fatted calf.' A common calf does not suffice, unless it be fat, unless it be fattened; the fat calf bears witness to the richness of the father's charity. 'And bring the fatted calf, and kill it, and let us eat and make merry: for this my son was dead, and is come to life again; he was lost, and is found.'
We are still speaking of the history, and already we are pondering to lay bare the hidden mystery. The son who was dead is raised from the death of the calf, and one calf of the whole household is poured out unto fatness. But it must be deferred, that we may pursue the old grief of the elder son and the yet older envy of the brother.