Restored to Innocence

A couple days ago, I went to Confession, cringing once again at having the same laundry-list of sins. I'm the kind of person who could probably LIVE in a confessional and never run out of sins ot confess, but of course, if I were to never leave, I would never have a chance to try to overcome my numerous faults and weaknesses that lead me into sin.

Every now and then I long for the days of childhood innocence; back when I didn't understand real evil and even better, had never experienced it or had been the author of it.  Yet even this frivolous longing carries within it God's grace, for it makes me even more grateful for the Sacrament of Confession.

All of this was on my mind when I entered the tiny room and knelt down behind the screen, the priest already intoning the beginning of this most sacred rite. I listed my sins...as always...knowing that God already knew what I had done and had only been waiting for me to come to Him to take full responsiblity and ask for the grace to overcome them, to start anew. Once again.

I listened to the advice of the priest and when prompted, began my Act of Contrition, the very same one I learned back in First Grade when I received the Sacraments.

"Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you. I detest all my sins because I dread the loss of Heaven and the pains of Hell....

And then it happened. I can't properly explain it, but there, as I prayed the words, it was as if I was taken back in time to a confessional long long ago. I was again six years old, and, having confessed my little sins, things like fighting with my brother and disobeying my mother, was moving haltingly through the Act of Contrition. I could feel my page-boy style hair cut and in my mind's eye, see a little of the light of day peeking through the woven wicker-type screen, revealing the silhouette of Fr. W. as he waiting patiently for me to complete the prayer, his hand already raised in anticipation of absolution.

But most of all, because I offended You, O my God, who are all Good and deserving of all my love....

There I was, kneeling in the Confessional, an adult, having committed much greater sins, having now had a long life of having gravely, over and over again, severed my relationship with God in ways I couldn't even have imagined as a child. I knelt there and the tears came as I recalled that sweet, sweet innocence of childhood.
 

I firmly resolve, with the help of your grace, to confess my sins...

 
It truly was as though suddenly, I was a child again, kneeling humbly before my God, knowing His Mercy, and overwhelmed because I am also an adult, an adult who has been wounded by sin. As I said that ancient prayer, I knew without a doubt that in my sorrow, in my repentance, in my desire and will to lean on God in order to overcome my sin, in His Mercy He indeed restored me to that beautiful innocence of childhood.
 

...to do penance, and to amend my life. Amen.

 
Still experiencing the sense of timelessness, lost in the echoes of childhood, I bowed my head to receive Absolution, my tears turning to joy with the unmerited, undeserved gift of a greater knowledge of God's incredible love. 
 
As I stood to go, renewed, restored, I had come fully to myself again but could still turn to look at memory's image of me as a six year old, skipping gaily out of the confessional when only moments before I'd trudged in shyly and a bit guiltily, sent in to expose to the light the sins that could only exist under the cover of darkness.
 
I wiped the tears away as I returned to the chapel where I knelt once again to pray, this time to offer my assigned penance, raising my eyes to Jesus in thanksgiving, knowing His mercy is eternal and that in His eyes, I am once again a child of God.
 
Through the Sacrament of Confession, Jesus gave me glimpse through His own eyes; now I know that I need not long for that innocence of childhood, for it is but a mirror image of holiness, and through the grace of the Sacraments, we each can be that reflection for eternity. That is our Call.
 
The Sacrament of Confession restores us; no matter what we have done, by humbly accusing ourselves before God, through contrition for our sins, we open ourselves to His Grace. While we may still suffer the effects of sin, God remembers no more what He has forgiven. It doesn't matter if we are six or seven or eighty-one; once we have come to Jesus, it is, in His eyes, as though those things have never happened. We are, once again, a mere child He delights to indulge in His great love.
 
Thank you, Jesus.

Age of Reason

Several days ago I posted a story that I think made national headlines. I know that a week ago Monday it hit every local NEWS station's site, and that Wednesday, there was FINALLY video of this, probably because of the utter hilarity of the crime of goat rustling and WHO committed it, while wearing...PAJAMAS.
I love this story but not just because it's, well...hilarious....but because it reveals so much about the intelligence and awareness of children. That intelligence and more importantly, AWARENESS, is exactly why Pope St. Pius X allowed children of "the age of reason",  usually figured to be about age 7, to receive Holy Communion, and therefore, the Sacrament of Confession.

Why? Because at that age, children can discern the Body and Blood. They are aware of Sin, of what that means, how it separates them from God, and they are most importantly aware of the fact that He gives Himself to them, in pure innocence, at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

No, they don't understand all the reasoning of 4,000 years or more of Judeo-Christian philosophy and theology, but they sure do know what is required to steal a goat and they know enough to try to hide their crime by lying about what they did.

Even more importantly, they sure do know that stealing a goat is WRONG or they wouldn't have, at the age of 5 and 7, escaped their home with a very viable plan, with a leash, walked a mile or so to a farm, liberated a goat, leashed it, and walked it home, then lied to the police officer who confronted them.

Should Children Receive the Sacrament of Confession?

In my parish work, I have become aware of a number of local parishes that do not offer First Reconciliation before First Holy Communion.  Their reasoning:  children can't possibly commit mortal sin. Children don't understand sin and their "sins" aren't really sins because children don't understand what is wrong and why.

Hmmm...there's so much wrong with this, and yes, I'm going to talk about it, but first, let me tell you a little story.

Oh, the webs we weave, when first we practice to deceive....

When I was about 4 years old, I spent the morning in our little country neighborhood playing with my friends down the road. When it was time, I went home for lunch, having made solid plans to return to my friend's house to continue playing the afternoon away.

To my surprise and horror, Mom told me that no; I wouldn't be going out to play. I would be taking a nap.  Of course I thew a fit becuase I was both wide awake and wanted to PLAY! Well, of course, me being 4 and Mom being Mom, she won that argument and sent me to my room, but you see, there's a bit more to this story...

As I sulkily ate my lunch, punishing Mom with my pouting silence, I came up with a plan to make Mom THINK I was napping, but I was REALLY going to go play with my friends. I was going to choose adventure and fun over obedience.

When I finished lunch, I (apparently) obediently went to my room, found one of my dolls, and placed her in my bed. You see, Mom always commented on that particular doll and how much her hair resembled mine. And I ALWAYS slept with covers over my head, even on hot summer days like that particular one, so it wasn't odd for me to cover my head but still leave a bit of hair poked out. I knew Mom would "check in" on me during my "nap", so I made sure to rustle the bedcovering a little. I think I even changed my shoes so she'd see a pair by my bed as though I'd kicked them off before climbing in.

Quickly, I opened my bedroom window, opened the screen (something my brother had recently shown me how to do), made sure there were no spiders as that was the ONLY thing that would keep me inside, and seeing that the coast was clear, I climbed out, closed the screen behind me, leaving it cracked just enough so I could open it again when I got back, and snuck around the house remaining below the windows to avoid being seen.

I spent a few hours with my friends, blissfully playing, but unfortunately, we got into a fight. I ended up stomping home, steaming mad, and because I was so angry, I completely forgot about my plan of escape and return. As such I burst through the front door, stood in the kitchen, hands on my hips and announced that I was NEVER going to play with D. and J. EVER AGAIN!

I can still see my Mom standing in the kitchen, wiping her hands off on a dishtowel, staring at me in shock and growing anger.

"I thought you were taking a nap!"

Uh oh!   I can still remember the sense of horror that I had just exposed my very big lie.

I actually tried to race to my room ahead of Mom to erase the evidence, but predictably, she beat me to it, tore back the covers and exposed the deception and disobedience.

That was the first time I was ever grounded.  I was four years old.

Let's Break This Down

I know that some of you reading this will first question my age - four years old, running around the neighborhood?  Yup, that's right, and no exaggeration. I'd been free to run around at about the age of 3, within limits. Our home was surrounded by retired couples and stay at home moms who knew all of us and where we were allowed to go and when. My friends lived the equivalent of a block from my house and we all knew to watch for traffic on the gravel that only served our immediate homes.  Besides, times were very different then and there wasn't a lot of crime in our sleeply little town, and certainly not in our immediate neighborhood.

So, that objection handled, let's talk about a child's ability to reason.

1. I knew that I was disobeying my mother, and willfully so. Proof:  I hid my crime and deliberately pretended to obey by going to take my "nap" without argument once Mom refused to give in. (Premeditation)

2. I went to great lengths to plan how to hide my disobedience, to include the return trip of climbing back in the window.  (Deliberation)

3. I knew that if Mom discovered my deception, I'd be in BIG BIG trouble, but I did it anyway. (full knowledge that what I was doing wrong, consent to do it anyway)

What are the three elements of mortal sin?  According to paragraph 1857 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, a mortal sin must be an objectively grave matter, committed with full knowledge and consent.

Now, I will not say that my sin that day (or rather, slippery slope of many sins) was mortal, for the simple act of disobedience, no matter how complexly I went about it, is not normally a "grave matter", especially for a four year old. However, I would argue that it was sufficiently grave especially considering my age, the danger I could have been in, and the fact that one intent to disobey led to a whole host of other sins, including the fight with my friends which ultimately ended our friendship. (That's a long story and I don't want to tattle!)

Can children commit mortal sin? Yes, I would argue that they can. Usually, though, the fact they don't have sufficient knowledge and certainly can't reason through the consequence of their actions even if they can reason the concrete "how" to commit them, prevents them from meeting the definition of "mortal sin".

Always, though, when I speak with someone who advocates a more mature age for First Confession, if they argue on the grounds that "children aren't capable of mortal sin", I query, "Why would you wait to teach them about right, wrong, and sin when they ARE capable of doing something that grave?"  Seriously...wouldn't that be like closing the barn door when the horses have already escaped?

For some reason, some adults of a certain age have no problem telling their children about right and wrong and even mete out punishments and corrections as they grow, but when it comes to Confession, they balk and say, "Oh, my kids can't really sin." 

Except they do, all the time, and they are AWARE of it - but they need US to teach them what sin is and how that affects their relationship with God...and with others. How are they ever to learn about consequences if consequences aren't taught? Children know how to choose what is right, and they do THAT all the time, too, and understand that if they obey here, there are good consequences that follow, and that reinforces their good behavior. That's even basic psychology!

Confession, though, also teaches children how to identify their sins, how to correct them, and learn the consequences, not just in this life, but for the next.

And you know what? Children really really love Jesus a great deal, and they want to please Him, they want to be right with Him, and that want that deep, personal relationship with Him.

Still, there's one other thing we can't miss when talking about the Sacraments:  Grace.

Not only do children need to learn how to identify sin and take responsibility for it, but they need that final revelation that SINS CAN BE FORGIVEN! Remember:  God never reveals sin without revealing His Mercy.

Children can learn that, and not just learn it, but EXPERIENCE it, and then, in the Sacrament of Confession, receive the Grace to be strengthened against temptation, to be guided in learning to live in Christ. They can be placed on the path to Sainthood and perhaps, learn to never commit a mortal sin!

Dare we hope for such Grace? And why not? God freely OFFERS it!

Certainly, people can argue all day long about whether or not children can commit mortal sin, but when it comes to the mysterious workings of God's Grace in the soul, that's where the argument ends.

Why would we ever want to risk a child's eternal soul by denying them the Grace of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, especially, and properly, before they receive Our Lord's Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity in their First Holy Communion?



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To Amend My Life, Amen!

Have you ever pondered the wording of the Act of Contrition, we pray in Confession, “I firmly resolve, with the help of your grace, to confess my sins, do penance, and amend my life. Amen.”

I have, time and time again, especially if I’ve just confessed the same laundry list of sins for the 100th time. I’ve even confessed THIS problem to the priest with a fiery statement, “I am NEVER going to commit that sin again! I do not want to have to confess it again!”

Of course, at the time, I meant it with all my soul (or so I hoped), and I further hoped that by stating it within the context of the Sacrament, it would be all the more true, and take on more weight in my own memory and intention to “amend my life. Amen!"

I recall, though, that when I stated those vehement words, the gentle rebuke of the priest who expressed hope that certainly I could do better in the future, to take care not to lose hope should I fall again…and again…and again. He reminded me that’s why we had the Sacrament of Confession; because we are weak and in need of God’s grace.

Recently, as part of my Lenten practices, I have been trying to spend more time in Lectio Divina and I am focusing, of course, on Our Lord’s Passion. Although I started with Luke 22:39 (Jesus’ Agony in the garden), in comparing that account with that of the other gospels, I also found myself meditating on the event previous to His Agony: Peter’s vehement, passionate declaration that even though others would fall away, he never would.

Matthew 26:31-35:

Then Jesus said to them, "You will all fall away because of me this night for it is written: I will strike the shepherd....


“Then Jesus said to them, “You will all fall away because of me this night, for it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd and the sheep of the flock will be scattered. But after I am raised up I will go before you to Galilee. Peter declared to him, “Though they all fall away because of you, I will never fall away. Jesus said to him, “Truly, truly, I say to you this very night, before the cock crows, you will deny me three times.” Peter said to him, “Even if I must die with you I will not deny you.” And so said all the disciples.

Read the passage again, paying attention to the bold: Peter, in his zeal, in his deep love for Jesus, in his heart converted and dedicated to the Son of God, spoke truthfully when he claimed he would never fall away. The idea was absolutely repulsive to him, and clearly, his intent was absolute loyalty. Absolute faith. Absolute trust.

Jesus knew better, though, didn't He? He knew what Peter would do, and in revealing that Peter would deny him, Jesus was not chastizing, but spoke gently and with great love. He knew that this, too must be.

We know that Jesus' prediction came to pass, for indeed, Peter denied Jesus three times, stating that he did not know Him.

Luke 22:60-63 :

But Peter said, Man, I do not know what you are saying. And immediately while he was still speaking, a cock crowed. And the Lord turned and looked at Peter, and Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the cock crows today you will deny me three times.” And he went out and wept bitterly.

It had to happen this way; Peter had to learn the depth of his weakness.

So must we all.

When we go to Confession, or even in private prayer swear we will never committ a certain sin again, or if we are on fire for our Faith, vow that we will "never fall away, even if others do", we are forgetting who we are. Indeed, such zeal is laudable and even necessary, for we should all be so fired up with love for God!

Yet, as Jesus knows, fall we will, not once, not even just three times, but many.

I love the passage from Luke. Peter hears the cock crow just as he's stated his third, most adamant denial of Christ, and this sound brings him back to Himself. He looks up to see Jesus gazing at him, and recalls the words of Our Savior, and realizes...Jesus knew. And He still went to the Cross...for him.

Jesus didn't have to say anything; Peter was able to recognize the depths of his own weakness and in his grief, "he went out and wept bitterly."

Have we not done the same thing ourselves, in recognition of our weakness? In recognition that without His grace, we cannot overcome our sins?

We promise Him we will stand by Him, but eventually, we all fall and must get back up.

The other lesson I like to take from Peter's denials is this:  if Peter had not been following Jesus so closely, and trying to hard to live up to the promise he had made, to not fall away like the others, he would not have been in a position to deny Jesus.

In other words, Peter entered the battle. He braved the darkness, the hostility of the crowds, risking recognition even as he faltered. Yes, he fell, but had he not fallen, he would not have been able to recognize the depth of his own need, and he therefore would not have been so quick to respond when he sighted Jesus on the shore after His Resurection.

He knew Christ because he risked everything to follow Him, including failure! In fact, it was in his very darkest failure that he found such a deep encounter with Divine Mercy, culminating for Peter personally in his three confessions of love upon the the shore.

Each time we go to Confession, we should remember that we are entering into Love, and in so doing, by admitting our own faults, our sins, our moral failures, we are at the same time confessing a far greater love for God than for our sins.

St. Peter...pray for us!

Accepting Our Defects

God is "realistic". His grace does not operate on our imaginings, ideals, or dreams. It works on reality, the specific, concrete elements of our lives. Even of the fabric of our everyday lives doesn't look very glorious to us, only there can we be touched by God's grace. The person God loves with the tenderness of a Father, the person he wants to touch and to transform with his love, is not the person we'd have liked to be or ought to be. It's the person we are. God doesn't love "ideal persons" or "virtual beings."  He loves actual, real people. He is not interested in saintly figures in stained glass windows, but in us sinners. A great deal of time can be wasted in the spiritual life complaining that we are not like this or not like that, lamenting this defect or that limitation, imagining all the good we could do if, instead of being the way that we are, we were less defective, more gifted with this or that quality or virtue, and so on. Here is a waste of time and energy that  merely impedes the work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts.

What often blocks the action of God's grace in our lives is less our sins or failings, than it is our failure to accept our own weakness - all those rejections, conscious or not, of what we really are or of our real situation....We refuse to admit that we have this defect, that weak point, were marked by this event, fell into that sin. And so we block the Holy Spirit's action since he can only affect our reality to the extent we accept it ourselves. The Holy Spirit never acts unless we freely cooperate. We must accept ourselves just as we are, if the Holy Spirit is to change us for the better.

~  Rev. Jacques Philippe, "Interior Freedom", p 32 - 33

Commentary:

There are 6 days left to get to Confession before Christmas.  What are you waiting for? How can the Savior change your heart if you refuse to admit you are imperfect and that you have been wounded by your own sin? Go!  He is waiting for you with open arms! He already knows what you have done, and only waits for you to come to Him to admit it and ask for forgiveness.  God's mercy is without limit. There is nothing you can do that will cause Him to stop loving you.

The only unforgivable sin, the sin against the Holy Spirit, is to refuse His mercy.  He cannot give you what you refuse to accept.

Go. The Savior awaits...

Come, Lord, Do Not Delay

One of the things someone pointed out to me a few years ago, found prominently in both iconography and the writings of the Church Fathers, is the link between the Birth of Christ and His Resurrection.  This is a critical link that many don't understand, for much sacred art showing the Nativity is very misleading:  our Christmas cards show pristine views either in the desert with pretty palm trees on a clear night, or a snowy night much like those we might experience here in Minnesota, surrounding a cute little clean-looking cozy warm stable with angels singing overhead and animals cuddling around on the hay. Or perhaps some other warm-and-cozy scene eliciting feelings of vague pleasure that our secular culture has deemed to be "the Christmas spirit".  

This kind of art, while to the degree that Truth is allowed, can be beautiful and certainly may portray PART of the birth of Christ, unfortunately causes us to miss out on the fact that Our Lord Jesus Christ was born into the shadow of the Cross and in a place proleptic of His Resurrection.  If we are missing this part of the story, it means that our preparation for Christmas during the season of Advent is lacking some focus, which follows, therefore, that we can't fully enter into the joy and celebration of the Christmas season!

The fact is that Jesus was not born in a nice cozy modern stable in a cow's stall (as the popular song proclaims), but rather, in one of the caves the surround Bethlehem, where the shepherds corralled their flocks at night to protect them from predators and the elements.  Just imagine, then, what the FLOOR of that cave must have been like!  Imagine, if you will, what covered the ground, and how deep it must have been!  It's not as if the shepherds had time to design a manure shovel and clean it out and lay down some nice hay for the "guests"!

Jesus was, indeed, born in a cave. One of the nastiest caves on earth.  And where was our Most Precious Infant Savior, our King, laid to rest?  He was laid in a manger, something used to feed animals, which was never cleaned. It in fact, would have been the cleanest place in the entire network of caves, yet there, "clean" would be a relative term, wouldn't it?  That nasty manger would have been lined with the spit of a thousand camels, and never mind the fleas! He was thus born into the very same relativism that personifies even our own culture today, the actual filth of his own age, and this is fitting, isn't it, for He is relevant to all ages, revealing Truth of eternity in a world in which very few awaited or wanted to receive Him.

Jesus was BORN into extreme suffering, and so we see the connection to the Cross, for as the Church Fathers remind us, the wood of the manger is the very same as the wood of the Cross. In the town with a name that meant "House of Bread", the Bread of Life Himself was placed in an animal's feeding trough, and yet, He came not to feed animals, but to feed US with His own Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity...only to die upon the gibbit as a reminder of His own humble beginnings....and our own great Fall into sin.

This is why, in iconography, one can observe the cave through which Christ was born and entered the earth at his Nativity, and the same type of cave through which He left when He rose from the dead in order to overcome the grave for us, restoring our dignity by opening Heaven to so that we could reach our final end:  eternal union with the Holy Trinity.  Just as He arrived, so He left...in every way.

We must remember, in this season of Advent, and as we celebrate Christmas with great joy at the Incarnation, our God become man who came to save us from our sins calls us to follow in ALL His footsteps...all of them.

"Come, Lord, do not delay.
-Free your people from their sinfulness."
~ Liturgy of the Hours, Midafternoon, Third Sunday of Advent

Advent is a time of Preparation, so that we can prepare our hearts to receive the gift of Christ Himself, and in turn, make OURSELVES a gift to Him!

There is no greater gift we can give to Jesus but ourselves.  We must take time in silence, maybe solitude, slow down even as the world speeds up, and realize what is truly important. The readings for most of Advent call us to consider final Judgement, reminding us of our final ends, giving us hope in our eternal beatitude with God, but only if we respond to His grace and work to eliminate sin from our lives. It is a time of darkness and purification, it is a time of confronting temptations and actual sins and vices that keep us from God.  Especially when we consider the filth into which Christ was born, don't we want to be MORE certain of our own purity so that we can receive Him, offering Him the same mercy He provides to us?

If we saw a child lying in filth, wouldn't our first response be to pick him up, cuddle him and hold him close and warm, wrapping Him in pure, clean clothes? Yet, if we were filthy ourselves, wouldn't we hold back so that we would not contaminate Him further?  Would we not first change our OWN clothing so as to ensure that our efforts would not make this child's condition even WORSE?  If we had just come from a sewage pit, covered in the "fruits" of our labors, would we even CONSIDER picking up a child lying in a manger, knowing that the sewage dripping from us would make his own condition filth even WORSE?

I shudder when I recall that I was once one of those who lived in habitual and terrible mortal sin, did not go to Confession, and yet, at Christmas, for many years, I went forward to receive Him, this dear Holy Infant, into the profanity of my body and soul. I took the Christ Child into my own sewage, that of my own sinful soul, far worse than the filth into which He had been born!

Oh, how I shudder now to consider it!  And how I shudder to realize that this happens EVERY DAY, it happens in HUGE numbers every Christmas and Easter when such large numbers of people return to the Church....but go forward to receive Our Lord in such a filthy state!

We should ALL ensure, then, that we are not in denial of our own sin. We should be using Advent as a true time of preparation, and maybe this is difficult. Maybe it's hard to face ourselves and the reality of our own immorality. Maybe we are in darkness because we have a war within us, an interior battle within which we realize we are in bondage to sin...and are unwilling to let go of the chains that bind us.  Maybe we are afraid that if we go to the Sacrament of Confession, especially if it's been a long time, that we can't be forgiven. Do we inflict a "statute of limitations" on ourselves and condemn ourselves even though Jesus calls us to Him through the Sacrament of Penance in order to reconcile us to Him...so that we can receive Him in purity? Do we deny that we NEED the Sacrament of Confession in order to be ABLE to receive Him and be strengthened on this long pilgrimage to Heaven?

Or do we err on the side of sacrilege, approaching the Holy Altar of Sacrifice, having sacrificed nothing of  ourselves, but presuming a place upon our own authority, demanding to be fed at the Table but refusing to partake in the Sacrifice to which we are truly called?

During this time of Advent, maybe in our introspection we are crushed, and finally realize how we have been defeated over and over again, how we have chosen love of some worldly, fleshly pleasure over love of God, preferring what is temporary to what is eternal.  This is not cause for despair! It is a reason to rejoice, for this gift of self-knowledge, while difficult, is the very cave through which we are born again!  It is the very tomb through which we must pass in order to live again!

We MUST see the parallel between the Nativity and the Resurrection, between the Manger and the Cross. We MUST see how, if we are to be conformed to Christ and live out our Baptismal call to Holiness, we have to live out, over and over again in our spiritual lives the cycle of crushing defeat and the darkness in which we are rebuilt, if only we are willing to cooperate with God's grace. We must be crushed, we must die to ourselves in order to learn to turn our wills more perfectly to God.

Christmas isn't just a random celebration, a day off from work, a day to open gifts. It is a day that requires great preparation, for when we celebrate it, we should be offering the gift of ourselves, in purity, in joy, knowing that God has brought us through darkness and into redemption!  Today, on Guaudete Sunday, in the Liturgy of the Hours we pray in recognition of the Redemption! Now, during Advent, we are directed not towards the Nativity, but towards our eternal Salvation!

Rejoice! Persevere through the remainder of this "mini-Lent" and know that your redemption is at hand!

"Let us cleanse our hearts for the coming of our great King, that we may be ready to welcome him; he is coming and will not delay."

Forgiveness and Acceptance

Fr. Gordon MacRae, has written again from his unjust imprisonment, and I found myself in tears as I read of his friend Joseph, a man looking for redemption and forgiveness but certain his past has condemned him completely.

Oh, can I ever relate!

Please read his post in its entirety, but know that I focus this post and my own comment to him on the first part, directing it towards the subject of Joseph. Here is what I said in response:

Father,

The first part of this post was really the one that got to me the most, because it’s a problem I have, too. I have a past. Maybe it doesn’t involve guns and violence, but constantly I’m amazed that anyone who knows what I used to be would ever want to know me now. I have a couple friends who are priests, and they know my history, at least by my allusions to it. And still…they WANT to be my friend. It nearly scandalizes me.

Father if I sat down in front of you right now and told you my history, my past, and even my present, I would look at you in the same way as your friend Joseph; I’d be looking askance, looking for that same horror, wondering when you would shut the door on me. I really admire Joseph, for it seems he had the courage I don’t. I’ve never gone to my friends for Confession; what they know they learned outside of the Sacrament.

Yet I’ve never had the courage to ask them what I wonder so deeply: “Why do you want to be my friend?”. Most people I know don’t know the depths to which I’ve descended, and I am sure that if some of them, family especially, did know…I’d be cut off forever.

While in this comment I referred specifically to my priest friends, I did that given the venue, but in honesty have to say I wonder about my other non-clergy friends as well.  How could they WANT to be friends with me, given what they know about my past? About who I am now?  I am not now without sin, and in fact, there are some sins that even now force me to frequent Confession as I try to overcome them. Sins that might be shocking to some, but seem like mere gnats to another.

I don't want to read of the combox commentary on God's mercy...I know all about it.

In fact, I can lecture on it and I HAVE.

Please,  I am asking all of you, my readers,  to look into YOURSELVES and your own nakedness in your sin and recognize that YOU, too, know the same shame.

 I'm talking about the raw human reality that ALL of us experience, something platitudes cannot cover, cannot stop, cannot deny...that raw reality that when we are stripped down naked before God, we know we have sinned, we know what we deserve, and it's NATURAL to cringe in our concupiscence.

It is FITTING!

We all cringe in knowledge of our sin. We all fear rejection of others BECAUSE of our sin. As a priest I know (not a friend, just a lecturer I heard) observed, "People don't want to be known in their sin."

He was right. Yet...through different venues, in person, blogging, via email, my sin is known to my friends, and still, they are my friends. They WANT to be my friends, and looking at them in the same way, had they confessed the same things...it wouldn't affect my love for THEM.

We all struggle with this.  We all ask for forgiveness, and we all need acceptance. And yet, when the latter happens...if we say we don't question it, we are lying.

My hope is that Fr. MacRae can convey this to his fellow prisoners, so that they will know they are not alone in the sense that they have a past that is known...but doesn't define them. That God's mercy is infinite, that they CAN change, and that they will not forever be judged according to what they have done in the past.

It is possible to be a New Creation, through God's Grace. It is possible to move on. It is possible to experience God's mercy expressed through the friendship of those who know us...who we were, who we are...and who we may be one day.

Myself...I pray for the grace to accept that reality, for I continue to cringe in shame, much like Joseph, Fr. MacRae's friend, who expects to see an expression of horror only to look up and recognize the significance of  friendship and mercy.

God grant me the humility to accept that same mercy. Amen.
*

The Sacred Seal of Confession

Fr. Z. has a post and commentary on a Zenit article about the Seal of the Confession on trial. What's so chilling about this is that one of the things we hold most sacred really IS being attacked, more and more, in our society.

In summary, the case in question is especially appalling, because it surrounds the violation of the Seal of Confession: The State recorded an inmate penitent's Sacramental Confession heard by Fr. Mockaitis. I remember reading about this some time ago, and recall that as soon as he learned of this, documents were filed to suppress the tape, and I believe suit was quickly filed to protect the Seal, demanding the destruction of that tape.

Ultimately the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals ruled that recording a Sacramental Confession WAS a violation of the First and Fourth Amendment, thus the recorded Sacramental Confession was illegal, and the tape was ordered to be destroyed. Now, ten years after the fact, the tape STILL exists.

Yeah. That's a problem. Are you angry yet? You SHOULD be, whether you are Catholic or not.

Many people don't understand the Sacrament of Confession and why we must go, the spiritual benefits, the graces, or the absolute necessity of it. They DO understand, however, the confidentiality of the practice, although maybe they don't realize that the Seal of Confession doesn't just extend to the Priest, but even further. ANYONE who overhears a confession must keep their trap shut..for life. The Seal applies to even the non-ordained. For example, if I was in line outside of the Confessional and a person with a little too much confidence in the sound-deadening properties of "the box" spoke so loudly that her confession could be clearly heard, well, anyone standing there is bound to the same Seal.

By the way, the example I gave...is true to life. Thankfully I didn't hear what the person said, but I'm quite certain everyone in the chapel thought I must really have a huge bullfrog in my throat giving the amount of time I spent clearing it and coughing a little just to ensure I COULDN'T hear what was being said, hopefully making sure no one else did, either. But if I HAD...let's just say if someone had asked me to repeat what I'd heard or die, well...I'd better be choosing death in that case.

The movie, "I Confess" by Alfred Hitchcock reveals very truthfully the importance of the Seal of Confession. In the movie, a murderer confesses his crime, and when the Priest himself is accused and goes on trial, he utters not a peep either to the man who was walking around free and often in his presence, and gives no indication to the authorities that he knows anything at all. He can't.

Throughout history, Priests have gone to their deaths rather than ever reveal what a penitent said to them in Confession.

Several years ago, when I was finding my way back into the Church, my biggest struggle being the Sacrament of Confession, this very topic happened to come up. My boyfriend at the time, a non-Catholic, non-religious person, said something to me about the government probably putting recording devices in Catholic Churches. He wasn't condoning the practice; in fact, he was only advancing a conspiracy theory that would not surprise him given how we were all watching our freedoms eroding away. I actually demanded that he shut up, in no uncertain terms. I didn't want to hear him even talk about it. I asked him if he realized how SACRED was the Confessional, how ABHORRENT it was to even THINK that this could be happening! I didn't know of Fr. Mockaitis's case.

As it was, at my boyfriend's very suggestion at this violation, I was so deeply offended, and even wounded, that, even to my surprise, I burst into tears. I had never before that point realized how FIRMLY I believed in the Seal, even as I questioned the Sacrament itself. I knew, without a doubt, that ANYTHING I told a Priest in Confession would go with him to the grave. Thus the very violation of that moment was, akin to me, Spiritual Rape.

This life or death bond of confidentiality transcends any mere law of man; it is the law of God, and it's one that is written upon our hearts, whether we are Catholic or not. Even non-Catholics understand very clearly the importance of the Seal, and what it means for ALL Faithful of any religion should the State interfere in this religious practice.

I shudder to think what would happen if the State had ruled other than it had. I shudder to think of how many people would refuse to go to Confession, to bring their sins to God and receive absolution...for fear of someone overhearing, intentionally, and using their most vulnerable moment against them.

For now, the Sacrament is safe, and we DO need to fight for our very lives here. Our lives, and more importantly....our souls.

You can read the article either at Fr. Z's blog (linked at the top of the post) or go straight to Zenit to read it without his commentary.

In any case, I encourage you to fully read the article, which is an interview with the priest in question, and he answers many common questions about the Seal, the court case, and why this is so important for us ALL.

Delicate Souls

"God never reveals sin without revealing His Mercy."

I don't recall who said it; my professor a few years ago in talking about one of John Paul II's writings, or maybe John Paul II himself. So I guess I can't give proper credit for the quote, but the message is loud and clear. It's been revealed to be true in my own life, and sometimes, by God's grace, I get to be a part of it for someone else. I hope.

Part of my parish work is sacramental preparation. If parents miss the informational meetings, they have to meet with me to get that information, and I always find those meetings to be fruitful, often for different reasons. Sometimes it's because the parent isn't Catholic but wants to be faithful to what WE believe, and wants to understand that belief so they can teach it with integrity. (I find these parents to be heroic, and pray that they will enter the Church through what they are teaching to their children. The Holy Spirit is with them.)

Sometimes, though, it's fruitful because the person is struggling with something, maybe has questions about the Faith, maybe is trying to come back...and doesn't know how. Something.

This week, it was my privilege to meet with such a person. I am grateful to God for that.

At some point in the afternoon I was inspired to go into the Church and pray for this meeting, so I did.

I expected it to be fairly routine. A nice woman, with whom I have spoken before, both on the phone and in person. I figured I would move quickly through the information, skipping over some things, reading her for her receptivity to the message and tailoring what had to be said.

As it was, we connected in a way I didn't expect, and hadn't "read".

When I speak to people about the Sacraments, especially Confession, I give a part of my own personal conversion story, and for a couple reasons: firstly so that they will realize that I am just like everyone else. Secondly, because so many people have been poorly catechized about this Sacrament, or, like me have fallen away, that they only come back because of their children. But they don't go themselves because they don't know why they should!

In talks to a group, I keep things general. In smaller meetings, though, I may get more specific.

In this particular meeting, although it didn't go as I planned, God's hand guided it. As I told her about how, when I was "away" I'd felt like a "fraud" whenever I rarely went to Mass, and thought everyone else could see through me, this person confessed she is "there" right now.

She feels disconnected, yet...still connected. She wants more, but can't seem to get to Mass as often as she desires. She admits some of this is her own fault and said outright she knew it was a sin.

It lead into a conversation about mortal sin, and the fact that missing Mass, intentionally, is a Mortal Sin.

Before I said the words that needed to be said, I prayed.

In fact, as soon as I realized she was struggling, I began asking the Holy Spirit for help with a delicate soul.

After some discussion, she said that she HADN'T known the full teaching on this, the depth of sin, but that she probably learned it in the past and that fact probably made her more culpable.

But she said something else, something ALL of us need to hear, to read, to take to heart:

"I have family members who are really really Catholic, really Traditional. If I tell them I don't go every week, they make me feel like a bad person. It makes me not WANT to go, because, if going means I'm like them, I don't WANT to be like that or with them."

Ouch.

I've paraphrased a bit as I don't remember the exact words. But we've all seen it, maybe we've been part of it. A family member, a friend, admits they haven't been a "good Catholic" because they don't go to Mass or have some other favorite sin; how do we react?

Instead of hearing what they are REALLY trying to say, we tend to beat them over the head with the Bible and the Catechism and remind them of their Baptismal responsiblities.

As this woman said, this makes her feel like a "bad person", like she is being "judged", and it scares her away. If she started out desiring to attend Mass, she leaves the discussion thinking that if everyone is like THAT...and it's not worth it.

I knew during our discussion I'd have to deliver a hard message, but I didn't want her to be chased away by the Truth that was unsuccessfully delivered by people around her. What I heard was that she was looking for someone to understand her, to hear her problems, and most importantly, her DESIRE to attend Mass every week. She WANTED to be there, but was STRUGGLING HARD with getting there, with apathy, with deciding to do other things, often related to her very young children.

Like many parents, she has been chased out of Mass by crabby grumps who can't seem to tolerate the joyful voice of a chatty toddler who can't seem to maintain silence during Mass. She, like so many others, has been shamed away and feels like she CAN'T come back until her children are old.

Aside:

I say "SHAME" to the grumps chasing parents of young children away from Mass! Keep your evil eye to yourself, refrain from Holy Communion and go to Confession to ask for forgiveness for all the parents you've chased out of Mass by your holier-than-thou-silence-your-children-with-duct-tape-so-I-can-have-perfect-silence attitude! May you all have perfect hearing so that you will NEVER stop hearing the cries of children EVERYWHERE you go, ESPECIALLY at Mass where they belong! They're a heck of a lot holier than YOU are, so if ANYONE needs to leave when they are crying, or chatty, it's probably YOU!

OK, < /rant> back to the topic:

As we spoke, I did deliver the moral teachings pertinent to our discussion, along with the message that the teaching didn't come with "judgment", as I am a sinner, too, and every day find myself in need of God's Mercy. Every moment. I let her know that indeed, it is my job to present her with the teaching, I understood her position and wanted to help her, and I've been there, too, if in a different way.

Then she confessed she hasn't been to confession in years and years. I don't know how many...but a long time.

I was actually planning to skip over it, but our conversation lead into it; I knew I had to tell her my story.

I told her the story of my "Big Confession."

A few years ago, I couldn't even THINK of that confession without crying. But now I've told it so many times that I can do so completely dry-eyed. Until this particular meeting, that is. As I explained to her my struggle to get there and finally that moment of Absolution and Mercy, I actually teared up. It wasn't a slight tearing I could just hide with a pause or forcing myself to move on, but tears actually SPILLED from my eyes.

I apologized, explained that didn't normally happen and told her that THIS is the most powerful testimony I had of God's mercy; that particular experience. And I told her I'm grateful for it.

She actually teared up, too, so we looked at each other, red-eyed in understanding. I asked her if she was nervous, given that she really DID plan to go soon. She admitted she was. We spoke of the Saints, of Divine Mercy, and I told her that I knew what it was like to be there, so I would pray for her and if she had any questions, at all, she could call me.

Take This to Heart!

This was an important meeting. Yes, a soul is coming back, and I ask you ALL to pray for her, and anyone struggling with the same issues. She WANTS to come back, is aware of sin, doesn't deny it, and really, is a soul in a state of suspended conversion.

Suspended WHY?

By her own testimony she has many good, practicing Catholics around her.

What I find disturbing is that she identifies them as "Traditional" and with the term "Traditional", she also links, some spoken, some unspoken but by context, "Merciless, Condemning, Judgmental."

Do any of US match those words? When we deal with our family members and friends who have fallen away, can we be linked in the same way?

The fact is, of course, that for some people, ANY declaration of absolute Truth, no matter how gently, of authentic Church teaching means we would be called all sorts of names and accused of all sorts of things. I'm not speaking of those rabid souls that are fleeing conversion.

I am speaking here of delicate souls desiring God, desiring to do better, but stuck, somehow, looking for someone, anyone, to hear them, to reach out to them, and help bring them in.

If someone reaches out in their crisis of Faith, having fallen away, as if out of the boat, do we hit them with the deadly aim of the anchor or do we throw them a life ring and help them swim in?

What she was experiencing was the deadly strike of anchor, and I'd argue that those who threw the anchor at her were sending out a weighty boomerang that is likely to cost them a great deal in their own final judgment.

We are indeed called to fraternal correction, and those of us who are in positions of authority, to speak for the Church, are in a special place. HOW that message is delivered is important. It makes a difference to the soul in question; are they being frightened away in a delicate state, or are they being encouraged in God's Grace, in the conversion they desire but can't seem to find?

I pray that I said the right things to this woman, and offered a life ring. I pray that she didn't leave feeling "judged" but rather, in solidarity with another struggling sinner.

Please pray for those who are seeking conversion and who are struggling to live the Faith they desire to live, in all its fullness.

We, the faithful, are ALL charged as keepers of our brothers and sisters, so we must ALL remember to speak in charity, to listen, and to guide in the seeking souls. There are those who are obstinant in their sin and reject Our Lord, and there are those who accept the teachings but are struggling to live them. Each require a different treatment. Are we willing to put our own pride aside so that we can reach out in charity and provide, in love, for the needs of the souls that come our way?

What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks?

Beloved, let us give thanks to God the Father, through his Son, in the Holy Spirit, because in his great love for us he took pity on us, and when we were dead in our sins he brought us to life with Christ, so that in him we might be a new creation. Let us throw off our old nature and all its ways and, as we have come to birth in Christ, let us renounce the works of the flesh.

Christian, remember your dignity, and now that you share in God’s own nature, do not return by sin to your former base condition. Bear in mind who is your head and of whose body you are a member. Do not forget that you have been rescued from the power of darkness and brought into the light of God’s kingdom.

Through the sacrament of baptism you have become a temple of the Holy Spirit. Do not drive away so great a guest by evil conduct and become again a slave to the devil, for your liberty was bought by the blood of Christ.

~ St. Leo the Great

If we fail to live in the light, we shall, to our condemnation and that of others, be veiling over and obscuring by our infidelity the light men so desperately need. As we know from Scripture, the man who received the talent should have made it produce a heavenly profit, but instead he preferred to hide it away rather than put it to work and was punished as he deserved.

Consequently, that brilliant lamp which was lit for the sake of our salvation should always shine in us. For we have the lamp of the heavenly commandment and spiritual grace, to which David referred: Your law is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. Solomon also says this about it: For the command of the law is a lamp.

Therefore, we must not hide this lamp of law and faith. Rather, we must set it up in the Church, as on a lamp-stand, for the salvation of many, so that we may enjoy the light of truth itself and all believers may be enlightened.

~ St. Chromatius

We shall be blessed with clear vision if we keep our eyes fixed on Christ, for he, as Paul teaches, is our head, and there is in him no shadow of evil. Saint Paul himself and all who have reached the same heights of sanctity had their eyes fixed on Christ, and so have all who live and move and have their being in him.

As no darkness can be seen by anyone surrounded by light, so no trivialities can capture the attention of anyone who has his eyes on Christ. The man who keeps his eyes upon the head and origin of the whole universe has them on virtue in all its perfection; he has them on truth, on justice, on immortality and on everything else that is good, for Christ is goodness itself.

~St. Gregory of Nyssa

"I am the light of the world; he who follows me will not walk in darkness" ~ Jesus, John 8:12

Scandal

When people hear the word "scandal", they think of some bit of juicy titillating gossip about a political figure or celebrity, and enjoy the sense of feigned "shock" followed by the ripple effect of articles and photos and water cooler discussions brought up by the event which might not even be true.  

Our Canon Law professor told us last weekend that there are some canonists who don't understand the meaning of the word, and will argue that extramarital affairs and liturgical abuses don't cause scandal anymore becuase no one is surprised when those things happen.  In other words, those who are supposed to know better are defining "scandal" as "entertaining, exhilierating, titillating, shocking and newsworthy."  

What idiocy. 

Scandal is now, in the context of canon law and moral theology EXACTLY what it has ALWAYS been!  It is a stumbling block. 

Scandal is defined as something that leads others to sin.  That's why scandal itself is a sin. 

For example, if I take a youth group into a store and I steal a pack of gum, I've just caused scandal. Whether those kids know it or not, they've been scandalized because my action, coming from being a person who should be a moral leader, has now given legitimacy to the sin of theft. 

Does that mean they'll automatically go out and steal gum?  No. 

But I can think of times in my own life where people I looked to as a moral example did or said something wrong, and because they did so, it made me think the action was ok. And then I committed the same thing.  That doubles the sin;  not only did the person who gave example commit an objective sin, but by their example they led me to do the same.  That's scandal. 

Practical Application

I look around at certain "journalistic" rags (both religious and secular) and there, I read only scandal. Not because I'm tempted, but because others are. And THAT leads me to an entirely different sin of calumny and detraction against the reporters, the writers, the average uniformed "Catholics" writing letters fraught with heretical ideas. 

 Scandal. 

I look around at the blogosphere which at least is honest in that the individual authors tend to proclaim their bias and don't pretend to be "balanced" - but there is much scandal there as well. For there are more than a few blogs I can no longer follow because all I see there is pride, calumny, detraction, anger, attack...etc.  All things that are not properties belonging to holiness.  

If I can't look at someone or their writings and see holiness, then it's time to walk away. Because if I give in to taking up anger and detraction, well, that's a scandal. 

It means that the person writing those inflammatory words is causing scandal, because by his or her example, I am being led into the same sin they possess.  I've found over and over again that when I read snark, I become snarky, and if I get snarky and make it public, it makes other people snarky, too. 

That's scandal.  

Now, there is a line; we CAN be critical of things that are unjust or need to be corrected.  Pointing out a public wrong doesn't automatically mean the person commenting on it is causing scandal or adding to it. It's all in how it's done.

That's why truth in journalism is so important, why truth in blogging is so important.  We're human. We're going to be biased, we're going to have opinions, and often we are going to be quite passionate about those opinions. But that doesn't mean we have to cause scandal in our passion.  

I've had a lot of posts that have "magically" disappeared over the last few years, and I'll have more as I go through my archives, or as I write when maybe I'm a bit too inflamed to do so.  

The reason many of those posts disappear is because I judge them to be scandalous;  either because they contain misinformation which has come to my attention, they are uncharitable (thus scandalous), or maybe they are simply mean-spirited.  

The example we set as Christians makes a difference.  If X person who claims to be a good Christian has this biting, snarky commentary, it must be ok to respond in that manner and poke fun at someone who is ignorant of our beliefs.  If popular X person gives an example of ridicule, then it becomes ok for the rest of us to follow that example, because...hey!  X person is popular so his or her opinion must mean a great deal more and if they do it, then we can, too. 

False logic.

The fact is that someone who exhibits the above behaviors is causing scandal; they are leading others into sin. 

And yes, I've done it.  

I do it all the time, and I am sincerely sorry for leading others to enter with me into such sins.  I pray God have mercy on those I mislead and instead place their punishment upon my shoulders, which would be just.  If I have scandalized, it is I who should suffer for it, for I have a greater duty. 

Sometimes it's hard, though, to know when someone has caused scandal.  Snarky humor can be fun, and it can be innocent and poking humorous criticism at serious issues may be a good way to bring correction.  Yet, so often, there is a mean spirit involved.  We have to evaluate...are we making a personal attack?  Are we singling anyone out?  

Is the person we are reading being a jerk or is their humor honest and innocent of malicious intent? Are they leading us to denigrate something or someone in an unjust manner? In an unholy manner?  

What response does their example cause in us?  Does it incite us to our own rants, make us dredge up old offenses and anger...or do we simply laugh at truthful humor and move on? 

Is there darkness in our laughter or is there the guilty pleasure that comes with that which is illicit if not fatal?  

In looking at all this,  in pondering it, I consider my "ranting" posts, and I wonder at whether charity is present.  There are some rants I've written out of pure humor, albeit with a biting style.  And even though I don't feel anger or bitterness, often that does come through because it's truly the way, culturally, I've learned to express critical humor.  And that, even without intent, may be scandalous. 

I wonder at my previous posts, knowing that it's important to address what is problematic, but I knew that there would be those who might arrive and begin to air their own liturgical complaints.  That has happened...the keyword "liturgy" always attracts people with grievances.

Is that scandalous?  Am I responsible for the most bitter among us who are in need of healing but can't seem to find their way out of the darkness so that healing can take place?  Am I making their situation worse?  

These are things I consider. 

Recently, at Crescat's blog, I received a nomination for "Best Spiritual Treat Blog" and I wonder if I should decline the nomination itself.  

I love what she's doing, I love her blog, and I've recommended her to others.  I love her humor, her truthfulness of who she is and who  she claims to be, and totally identify with her.  

But...how can I be a spiritual treat if I'm as snarky as the next guy?  How does that lead others to holiness?

The reality is that here, I don't have a specific agenda.  Maybe evangelization, maybe just sharing my faith because I know there are others who need to know they are not alone.  Maybe revealing moments of piety juxtaposed with the majority moments of sin.  

I'm not a "Spiritual Treat".  You're not going to come to my blog and see a perfect exudation of holiness.  It simply isn't present.  I'm just a sinner in need of salvation. Awards won't change that fact.  If someone thinks I'm anything close to a Saint, well...they've never met one.  I spend most of my time causing scandal, actually. 

And if I could truly see the impact of my life on others, I'd drop in my tracks and die. For I've lead far more souls into sin than I have been able to point to salvation.  And as for myself...I wallow in sin.  It covers me. The second I leave the Confessional, I'm back to my regular charms, which aren't charming at all.  

My biggest hobby, truthfully speaking:  offending God. I go out of my way to offend Him, and then say to myself that it wasn't my intent, no matter how willful my act.  

Please don't load my combox with a bunch of platitudes of how great I art.  I don't need that nor want it. I NEED to understand the harm I've caused, I NEED to see very clearly the effects of sin, both in recognizing how others have lead ME to sin, and how I have lead others. That's important. 

We ALL cause scandal. All of us. We all lead others to sin. 

But my hope is here:  God NEVER reveals sin without revealing His mercy.  

I weep in gratitude that God can see my scandalous life and offer me His pierced hand anyway, so that when He is raised up, I am drawn to Him.  

Therin is the scandal of the Cross. The ultimate juxtaposition.  Such an event that makes us see how so great a fault that we possess can warrant us so great a Redeemer is beyond our comprehension.  

The fact is that Jesus Christ reaches His bloody hands out to us, in forgiveness and sacrificial love, bringing our scandalized souls into Him through scandal personified.  

Therin is His Glory. 

I have nothing to offer Him but scandal, for I not only sin, but lead others to do so as well. When I approach Him, I bring not only myself, but all those who have been wounded or killed by my actions.  

Scandal. 

And then He is so generous that at the very revelation of my sorrow, He erases my guilt and restores me to His side, hiding me within His Most Sacred Heart. 

And we are all scandalized by such great generosity. 

Truly...none of us understands scandal, for it is through scandal that we fall, and in gratitude of scandal that we might enjoy eternal life with Christ.  

I will go on, pondering scandal, for even now, I don't understand...

*

Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner....

 

Preparing the Victim

From The Fathers of the Church, St. Jerome's Commentary on Matthew:

"Mt 26:3-4 :   Then the chief priests and elders of the peopple were gathered in the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas. And they took counsel that they might seize Jesus by means of deceit and kill him. 

With the Passover near, those who should have been preparing victims, making smooth the walls of the Temple, sweeping the pavement, cleansing the vessels, and purifying themselves in accordance with the rite of the Law, that they might become worthy to eat the lamb, are gathered together and enter into counsel to determine how to kill the Lord."

Now that it is Holy Week, if we have not been to Confession, this is the time of year which obligates us to go in order that we may meet the other obligation; to receive Holy Communion once during the Easter Season.  It is a time of preparation, it is a time of cleansing, a time of serious self-examination. 

None of us are worthy to partake in the Sacrifice of the Divine Victim, but He offers Himself and He invites us to enter into His Passion. 

But we have a choice;  we can either be like the chief priests and elders who plotted evil, or we can choose to leave the  obscurity of deceit and speak out loud those things that have kept us in the darkness of sin. 

For only if we are cleansed through the Sacrament of Confession can we truly enter into the Passion and receive the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of the Lamb of God. 

Kiss of Death

I've been thinking a lot lately about Judas, and how much I resemble him.  I recently watched The Passion of the Christ again, and the scene that stood out to me this time was near the beginning.  There is something in the way he furtively leaves the Last Supper and goes to receive his payment for betrayal. 

There is something in the way the money bag flies through the air; and as Judas desperately and clumsily reaches out to catch the

 offhand throw, the money falls at his feet and scatters.  He is helpless to stop it.  He looks up at the crowd that stares back at him dispassionately and with an air of condescension, then with an attitude of desperate greed Judas drops to the ground to quickly gather up the silver he was paid for the blood of Christ who had ordained him that very evening.

He looks up at the soldiers, and the fear in his eyes cannot be mistaken. It seems he is already regretting his act.  And yet, he goes into the Garden, and there finds Jesus waiting for him. The man he had followed, the man who had washed his feet, even knowing of the betrayal to come.  The One who had shown him ONLY love...and gave him the free will to do what he set out to do. 

Then, when Judas returns to the Garden with the soldiers, how does the betrayal occur?  Through a kiss. An expression of love. 

How many times have I expressed love to Christ while bearing hatred in my heart in some way?

How many times have I begged Jesus for His love, while I pondered my next sin, my very betrayal of His own love?  

Judas flees, realizing what he's done.  The movie shows his torment and ultimate demise; suicide. 

Yes, he sinned in his betrayal, but that sin was forgivable.  He could have come to the Cross.  He could have come to Christ an any time and made his repentance clear.  He could have been forgiven.  

Just as I've been forgiven, over and over, for my many betrayals.  

Because, every time I sin, I  give Christ the same kiss of death.  The very same. 

We look to Peter, whose love, as beloved John Paul II pointed out, set him up for failure. It was in how Peter followed Christ to his scourging that put him in the position to be confronted, and where he denied him.  Three times.  

Judas denied Christ only ONCE; when he betrayed him. The betrayal was a single, seamless act.   Peter denied him THREE times.

Yet their stories are very different.  Peter continued to follow Christ.  He truly loved Him and could not stay away.  He repented of his denial.  When Our Lord appeared a few days later on the sea shore, Peter was so excited that he didn't wait for the boat to pull up...he leapt overboard and SWAM to Jesus, where he was given three chances to overcome his three denials.

Our God is a God of Mercy.  Infinite mercy. 

Judas, though, betrayed Christ, ran away...and stayed away.  It was his rejection of God's love that lead him into such complete despair that he saw no other way out than suicide.  

How many times have I rejected God's love?  In choosing to sin, not only have I betrayed Him, but I've rejected Him. 

How many times has Our Lord come after me, in spite of and because of the fact that He was nailed to the Cross on my behalf?  

How many times have I been tempted to avoid Confession because I've thought my sins were greater than God's own mercy?  

How many times have I turned my back on Jesus because Mercy was inconvenient to my Pride?

Judas was the first to leave Mass right in the middle, and completely missed the consecration which took place as Christ died upon the Cross.   Judas left right after his own ordination, only to bring destruction when he returned.  And ultimately, he missed the biggest moment of all. 

Judas did repent, but he repented to the wrong authority; rather than going to Christ, the one whom He'd wronged, God himself whom he betrayed, he tried to give back the tangible evidence of his sin.  

How many times have I tried to undo my own wrong only to make things worse?

How many times have those efforts been rejected because the ones in whom I sought comfort were the same ones who led me into sin to begin with?

How many times have I looked to myself for salvation, thinking I could fix things on my own?

Had Judas gone to Jesus, Our Lord would have taken him back, and although He would not have "undone" the damage, he would have helped Judas to carry that cross he'd so willingly embraced.  What was done was done, but Jesus understands everything. 

He asks only one thing; humility.  That in our sin, we recognize our sin, repent of it, and embrace the effects of that sin.  None of us is immune.  

This year, I'm trying to recognize each time I kiss Jesus in an act of betrayal, and have found even this short project to be maybe a little more than I can bear.  Yet it has been such a blessing, reminding me that whenever God reveals sin, He also reveals His Mercy. 

Lately I've been fleeing His mercy, realizing my own lack of repentance, my own failings.  Yet Our Lord has come after me, refusing to let me go. I've been astonished at His guidance, unable to deny what He has done.  

And yet, I look at Judas, and I see myself. If not in reality, then at least in the danger that has tempted me. To betray Christ, to run away, and even to be lost forever. I can understand why Judas did what he did; why he died at the end of a rope.  I've known that temptation as well and have been spared it only by the grace of God.  

Death is not what Our Lord wills.  He did not will for Judas to despair. He did not will for Judas to betray Him. The reality was that Judas did these things all on his own.  Jesus suffered greatly on account of Judas, whom He loved dearly.

It was Judas who rejected Jesus; not the other way around.  It was Judas who ran away and gave in to despair. He refused God's mercy.  

The reality is that the kiss Judas gave to Jesus was a betrayal not of Christ alone, but of himself.  He died in that moment, and he knew it. It was that very misuse of an act and symbol of love that truly revealed the state of Judas's soul. And if he could so warp love, how, in his mind, could he come back? 

Through Christ, and Christ alone.  For Jesus went willingly to his Passion and death.  He went, and would have taken Judas with Him, but instead, Judas refused the uncondemning gaze of Jesus whose last words to him were, 

"Would you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?"  

A statement, a question...not a condemnation. 

Jesus, I trust in Thee. 

Jesus Died for You

This morning I was feeling quit dejected and frustrated. It's been a difficult week, and the worst part about it is that I haven't handled it well. I've been awful, and I can't wait to get to Confession so that I can get rid of all this "yuck" that encases me.  

And yet, I'm also dreading Confession. I know what I deserve, and I know I need to confront myself before God, honestly, without reserve, and it's never a pleasant experiece to recognize how holy I'm NOT.  

Until I get there, though, I feel, spiritually, almost physically, like Pig Pen in the "Peanuts" comics; I'm all dirty and I've got a nasty smelly cloud surrounding me, and everything I touch is soiled, too.

  

Sin does that. Nothing is hidden. God sees all, knows all. And all we have to do is come to Him and ask for forgiveness, because we agree, too, that we've sinned. 

I had to  take a quick run to the store this morning, and en route, I was mentally reviewing my week, hating the sense of being so soiled.  My own sin was weighing heavily upon me, and truth be told, still does. As it should; I'm in need of sacramental healing. I need to hear the words of absolution.  

Then I passed a church, and happened to glance at the sign adjacent to the road.  The words were simple, but they were just for me, in that moment: 

"Jesus Died for You" 

Simply stated. 

I mentally stopped my torturous mental inventory and focused on that one all-important Truth:  Jesus died for me. 

He saw me from even before His conception, and still willingly chose to be conceived and suffer this life. He took me upon his shoulders when He entered the waters of the Jordan, giving His very conscious fiat to God and to us. He saw me in the Garden of Gethsemane, and sweated blood in order to take on my just punishment.  He saw me as He was scourged at the pillar, and met my sin head-on, gazing at me with compassion, even as His flesh was visciously stripped from Him. He saw me when He was crowned with thorns, and uttered not a word of protest, taking my own rebellion into His own skin, letting it rip His own flesh. He saw me when He carried His cross, and did not condemn me, for He was suffering that I might not be condemned. And He took the nails meant for me into his own hands and feet, and died so that I would not suffer the eternal agony to which I have deserved time and time again.

He took on my sin. He saw everything, and still died...for me.  He became accursed...for me. 

Jesus died for me. 

It matters that I've sinned, and it's important that I accuse myself before God, and to the priest, of my sin in the Sacrament of Confession. It's important that I keep the suffering face of Christ before me, remembering His uncondemning gaze, so that as I accuse myself, I remember what matters even more; that Jesus died for me.  

Over and over again, I consider these words, and realize how much I need to remember them, how much I need to focus on them, especially when considering knowledge of my own personal responsibility. There is nothing we can do that will cause God to not love us anymore.  He saw everything, and went to the cross without protest, because it was the only way to expiate our sin. We can't do it ourselves. 

We need to depend on Him. 

And the more I go to Confession, the more I understand my sorrowful condition.  With a deepened understanding of my own wretched propensity towards sin, the more I love God. And the more I love God, the more I hate my sin, and the more I understand the suffering of Our Lord.

And the more I understand His suffering...the more I understand what real love is all about.  

Thank you, Jesus. 

Giving Up

So often, I'm amazed at the pain people are carrying around. If we were to look around at Mass on any given day, and see people as God does, we'd be brought to our knees in tears on behalf of the suffering around us. We wouldn't be able to stop ourselves from reaching out to others, wanting to offer comfort, a bandage, a kind word...anything. Anything to relieve their pain.

And some would reject us, hiding their wounds. Others would finally rest, grateful to be noticed. Others would move away and point towards someone more wounded. And some would be crying out in agony, begging for help...and they have been, for years. But no one has been listening.

On any given day, I am one of those people. We all are.

And the ONLY one listening is God; He is the one one who recognizes us in the disfigurement of sin.

I look at the crucifix, and in seeing Christ, I'm amazed at His sacrifice; He was so moved by our pitiful condition that He became one of us, revealing the depths of His love in the most brutal kind of suffering and death known to mankind.

I still don't understand how God can love me that much. I can't see how I'd possibly be worthy of that kind of love. How could ANYONE sacrifice themselves for....me? In all honesty...WHY? I have no redeeming qualities. Or maybe more properly, no qualities worth redeeming. Love? What is that?

But in looking at the cross...I see love. And once I've seen it, I can't unsee it. I can't look away from the gaze of Christ, who bleeds for me, suffering in His compassion.

During my conversion, I began praying, "God, please don't give up on me...I'm trying...I'm really trying!" And I'd break down in tears, terrified of losing the salvation for which I hadn't even grasped. Even after I'd returned to my faith, I continued to pray that God would not give up on me. I'd kneel before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, and utter that very same prayer.

A few years ago, on the Feast of All Saints, Father gave a splendid homily, but it was one particular point that got my attention. It was as though he'd been reading my journal, although, of course he hadn't. He happened to look in the direction in which I was sitting, and, glancing up from his notes, he said, "God will NEVER give up on you!"

From that point on, I couldn't stop crying. He repeated that phrase several times, and it was almost an affirmation of the prayer I'd emitted for so many years...a repetition that God would never give up on me to correspond to the number of years I'd made that request in those exact words. Heaven echoing back through the words of my Pastor. And it was clear...he meant every word he said.

I've even heard those words in Confession, even though I've never confessed that prayer.

To this day, I STILL beg Our Lord never to give up on me. Even though I have converted, I still can't fully trust that He won't abandon me. Yes, intellectually I know Jesus is there and will never go away, will never reject me. But because I so often reject Jesus, because I let go of His hand, when I've lost sight of Him through my own fault I cry out and beg He won't leave me alone. I'm still that little child seeking independence, wandering too far away and screaming because I can't find my way back on my own.

Now, when I pray that prayer, I do so with a greater confidence, a reminder to myself that God WON'T ever give up; for every time I fear He will give up on me, He reminds me to place my trust in Him...and not to give up on myself. I have intellect and will; it is I who is fickle and abuses those gifts. God is constant. He is stalwart. He won't move. He calls...I respond. And if I don't respond, He comes looking for me and offers His hand.

I look up from whatever shiny sin has gotten my attention, and am brought to contrition through His wounds. When I reach out and take His hand, blood pours out of his wounds, covering me. I wince and look up at Jesus, but He simply closes His hand over mine and pulls me to His side. Reconciled.

Am I really sorry? Yes. But it isn't long before the shiny bauble once again distracts me and I pull away from Our Lord...and He lets me go. Like any parent. And when it's time, He comes after me again, ever patient. He'll never give up.

He'll never give up. Even if I give up...He won't.