The Israelites who were "encamped at Gilgal on the plans of Jericho" had looked forward to celebrating this first Passover in the Promised Land (Joshua 5; 9-12). Their fathers and mothers had fled their Egyptian slave quarters 40 years before, immediately after Yahweh’s destroying angel triggered the original Passover.

Yet, in the midst of their rejoicing, there was a problem. The Joshua author mentions that once the celebration was over, "the manna ceased. No longer was there manna for the Israelites, who that year ate the yield of the land of Canaan."

Working to live

That which had given the Chosen People security during their wanderings disappeared when they arrived at their destination. Security now had to come from a different source; their determination and hard work to grow the "produce of the land."

Free lunches were a thing of the past. After a few years of tilling the soil, some Israelites probably wished they were back wandering the wilderness.

Paul treats a parallel phenomenon (II Cor 5: 17-21). Once Jesus rises from the dead, those who imitate Him become "a new creation." Like Jesus, we change into someone unique. "The old things," Paul writes, "have passed away; behold, new things have come."

The Apostle immediately reminds his community of a major implication of being a new creation. God "has given us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, God was reconciling the world to Himself in Christ, not counting their trespasses against them."

It’s now our responsibility to inform others that they’ve also been forgiven — even those we personally don’t want to forgive. That seems to be why Paul makes a strange request: "We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake, He made Him to be sin who did not know sin, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him." Though we long for the day when we experience forgiveness, we’re not eager for everyone else to be forgiven on the same day. To be like Jesus, we must have the mind of Jesus.

Prodigal son

Our aversion to God’s unconditional generosity prompts Luke to include Jesus’ well-known parable about the prodigal son in his Gospel (Lk 15: 1-13, 11-32).

It’s important to notice the context in which Jesus tells His parables, to know the specific audience He’s addressing. Here, Jesus is talking to some Pharisees and scribes who complained about His habit of "welcoming sinners and eating with them." In the context of this group and their sanctimonious complaint, the parable’s most important characters become the forgiving father and his unforgiving older son.

According to the latter, the most prodigal person in the story is the father, not the son. He’s so generous with his forgiveness that the older, good son feels cheated.

"Looks," he shouts, "all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends. But when your son returns who swallowed up your property with prostitutes, for him you slaughter the fattened calf!"

Luke’s Jesus is informing not just the Pharisees and scribes, but all of us, that we’re living in a new world: the world of God’s forgiveness. It’s a world in which life is more important than keeping score. "My son," the father pleads, "we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found!"