A farmer was the proud owner of a very beautiful horse. One day he rode the horse into town and tied the animal to the hitching post in front of the general store. Two thieves, passing through, spied the handsome horse and decided to steal it. They also decided on a clever strategy to carry out their plan. One of them untied the horse and rode swiftly away. The other remained by the post. When the farmer emerged from the store and saw that his horse was gone, he was about to shout for help when the conspirator walked up to him. In a sad, low tone he said, “Sir, I am your horse. Years ago I sinned and for my sins I was punished. I was changed into a horse. Today my sentence is over, and I can be released if you will be so kind.” The farmer was dumfounded, yet touched by the story. So he sent the man away wishing him well in his new life.
Several weeks later the farmer went to a fair in a neighboring town. Great was his surprise to see his own horse for sale there. After gazing long at the animal to make sure that his eyes did not deceive him, he walked over and whispered in the horse’s ear, “So … you’ve sinned again!” Being human, we sin repeatedly. Fortunately, we don’t turn into a horse when that happens but our humanity is diminished when we do. And to restore our lost humanity and transform ourselves into the fully human person God wants us to be, we are called to repentance.
The Gospel writers tell us that the haughty righteous Pharisees criticized Jesus for many things, including, as we just heard in today’s Gospel, associating with sinners. In their opinion, God has no tolerance for sinners. After all, a sinner is one who consciously opposes God either by living an immoral life or by following a dishonest or disreputable occupation. This definition would, of course, include the tax collectors and prostitutes who were shunned by the Pharisees and even by the “ordinary people,” but not by Jesus who chooses to dine with them.
In response to the Pharisees’ criticism of his actions, Jesus responds, “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.”
Which group do we tend to place ourselves in? Do you see yourself as a righteous devout Christian or as a sinner in need of forgiveness? The truth is, everyone sins. John points this out in his letter, “If we say we have no sin in us, we are deceiving ourselves.” To follow Christ, we must first admit that we are sinners constantly in need of his divine mercy. In return, he challenges us to look at our ways and our priorities. Jesus, we are told, desires mercy, not sacrifice. How odd, you might think. After all, isn’t sacrifice a sign of love? Not necessarily. Think of the workaholic father who spends countless hours, working overtime to provide his family with what he thinks they want yet is too busy to spend any time with his children. His son would certainly feel more loved if his father spent time playing with him instead. In effect, our readings today challenge us to become more and more God-centered, which can be a formidable task for those of us with busy routines. How God-centered can we claim to be if we won’t even commit ourselves to attending Mass every weekend? And for those of us who do come to Mass, how God-centered can we claim to be if unlike Jesus, we refuse to truly forgive someone who has offended us?
We may sacrifice our time to come and pray, but are we extending mercy to those in need of our mercy?
Fr. Ray Carey, a priest whom I know in Portland, Oregon, relates this remarkable example of mercy. One day, a doctor came to treat a nun who was dying of cancer with a powerful new drug. In a moment of distraction, he injected her with a dose that was much too potent. He immediately realized his fatal mistake. Seeing the horrified expression on his face, the nun knew what happened. She grabbed the doctor and said, “I absolve you for what you’ve done. You must continue your work and not be crushed by guilt.” Then she turned to her friends and said, “I forbid you to bring a case against this doctor or the hospital.” Two hours later, she died.
Real forgiveness is hard for us to comprehend. We tend to think forgiveness means denying that sin exists. “Don’t worry. It was nothing. Forget it.” Some people even talk of unconditionally accepting others but that love vanishes when they are personally offended and they lash out, determined to get even instead. How often have you heard someone say, “I am very forgiving and accepting but what so and so did is unforgivable.”
Jesus did more than simply talk about mercy. He did outrageous things like eating with sinners to demonstrate mercy. He wanted people to see mercy in action. Ultimately he would do for us what the nun ill with cancer did for the young doctor. Dying on the cross, Jesus absolved us from our sins and even from our guilt. Not by saying, “Don’t worry, you didn’t mean it. It was nothing.” No, our sins are quite real, but by his example Jesus wants to make us conduits of his divine mercy. So, learn the meaning of the words, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” What better way can we prove that we are indeed following him?