Coronavirus Talk 3
Begin with an Our Father
The first reading for the Good Friday ceremony is from the prophecy of Isaiah in which the suffering and death of Jesus are foretold. Here is part of that prophecy:
“He was spurned and avoided by people, a man of sorrows, accustomed to weakness, one of those from whom people hide their faces, and we held him in no esteem. Yet it was our infirmities that he bore, our sufferings that he endured, while we thought of him as stricken, as one smitten by God and afflicted. But he was pierced for our offenses, crushed for our sins; upon him was the chastisement that makes us whole, by his stripes we were healed. We had all gone astray like sheep, each following his own way; but the Lord laid upon him the guilt of us all.” – Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Was the powerlessness of the person described in this passage an example of God’s impotence or is it proof of God’s love? The Romans who were used to power deities like Jupiter would recognize little godlikeness in a crumpled corpse hanging on a tree. Even devout Jews, who were used to stories about, and were expecting, a power Messiah, would see little to be admired in the god who died in weakness and in public shame.
“Even so, over time it was the cross on a hill that changed the moral landscape of the world.” Phillip Yancey
The Good Friday story is all about mercy, the mercy that Pope Benedict described as “the vengeance of God.” The Good Friday story is about how God stopped the cycle of evil by the sacrifice of His Son.”
“Since we have a great High Priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has been similarly tested in every way, yet without sin. So let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help.” -Hebrews 4:14-16
Let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy.
We hear that and think: “Yeah, right.” We find it just too good to be true that God forgives our sins even if every time we say the Creed at Mass, we say “I believe in the forgiveness of sins.” When Pope Francis says: “God never gets tired of forgiving us, we get tired of asking for forgiveness,” we think: “Not for me. I have done something or said something that has disqualified me from being forgiven by God.” Over all the many years I have provided spiritual direction for people, I have come to the conclusion that people give up their desire to have a real relationship with God for one, or maybe both, of two reasons: they don’t believe that God loves them personally, or they don’t believe that their sins are forgiven.
Since no one wants to feel guilt or shame all the time, we are likely to respond to our sin in one of two ways: either we will project our feelings of disappointment with ourselves onto God and then hate him for rejecting us, or we will allow our conscience to become dulled to the point that we can no longer distinguish between right and wrong, between what is loving and what is selfish, and then resign ourselves to a kind of moral cowardice disguising itself as real life.
Authentic human living calls us to be honest with ourselves and give sincere answers to questions like: When have I done what I know is evil or when have I failed to do what I know is good? What do I do habitually that is selfish and unloving? How have I tried to make up my own rules? How have I been prideful, dishonest, lustful, lazy, envious or greedy? How have I let myself become indifferent toward God or others, wasteful of my time or talent?
And going deeper, what evil continues to exist in the world because of me? Who has been hurt or damaged because of my selfishness? How have I been deaf to the cry of the poor? How often have I chosen to not be involved or how often have I talked myself out of taking responsibility for my choices? How have I failed to notice, to care, to ask important questions, to get involved, to seek to change what I know should be better?
In many ways, our culture pressures us to deny the existence of evil, either the evil that is so powerful in our lives but which cannot be attributed to any one person or cause, like racism, or the evil we acknowledge inside ourselves which poisons our inner peace and our relationships. However we try to deny it, evil is real. And it has real power in our lives.
To not believe this would be to trivialize human freedom. If we are free to choose, then we are free to choose to love and we are free to choose to sin. The philosopher, Jean-Paul Sartre, articulated this dilemma perfectly when he said: “We human beings are condemned to be free.”
The healing of evil – scientifically or otherwise – can be accomplished only by the love of individuals. A willing sacrifice is required. I do not know how this occurs, but I know that it does. I have seen it; and whenever this happens, I believe there is a slight shift in the balance of power in the world.
As St. Paul wrote to the Romans: “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” “Where sin abounded, grace did more abound.”
Exaggerated guilt and shame have no place whatsoever in the Christian experience. It is against everything Jesus stood for. To live in shame makes God a liar. There is no condemnation for those for whom Jesus died. None. No shame. No record of wrongs. Beating up on ourselves is pointless. Jesus’ death and resurrection means that we are reborn, re-made, reconciled, renewed. Jesus put it this way: “You are now in me and I am in you.”
Because we are human and aren’t flawless, we will sometimes relapse into our old identity. When we do, we admit it, we confess it, we make amends where necessary, and we move on. That is what the Christian does, not because sin isn’t serious, but because God Himself is serious about His mercy and extends that mercy, as Pope Francis says, “always, everywhere, in every situation, no matter what.” Always, everywhere, in every situation, no…matter…what.
When Jesus died on the cross, he died for everybody. Every body, everywhere, every tribe, every nation, every language, every people group. Because everybody’s sins are on the cross with Jesus, forgiveness and mercy are for everybody.
This faith of ours isn’t something we make true by having to do something. There isn’t anything we can do to ensure that God love us. God loves us first and there is absolutely no way we can lose the love of God. It is impossible for us to “out-sin” God’s mercy. All we need to do is to continue to live our lives in the light of the truth that we are free, free to choose to live out of the reality of God’s mercy or to live out of another worldview which cannot help but end up in denial or chronic cynicism or despair.
In the Christian worldview, in the Christian narrative, heaven is full of forgiven sinners and hell is full of forgiven sinners. Heaven is full of people for whom Jesus died, hell is full of people for whom Jesus died. Whether we end up in heaven or hell depends solely upon whether we can accept the mercy which God unfailingly offers us and try to imitate God by showing mercy to everyone without exception. I forgive because I have been forgiven. That is the dynamic that robs evil of its power. The vengeance of God is His mercy.
Here again is what we should listen attentively to on this Good Friday: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has been similarly tempted in every way, yet without sin. So let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help.” Timely help, like in this coronavirus.
Tomorrow night, we will look at the Easter Vigil which, in my opinion, is the Church’s most important and beautiful celebration.
Let’s end tonight with one of St. Ignatius’ favorite prayers:
Jesus, may all the is you flow into me.
May your body and blood be my food and my drink,
May your passion and death be my strength and my life.
Jesus, with you by my side enough has been given.
May the shelter I seek be the shadow of your cross.
Let me not run from the love which you offer,
But hold me safe from the forces of evil.
On each of my dying shed your light and your love.
Keep calling to me until that day comes, when,
With your saints I may praise you forever.