Fr. Rick Spicer

Hardly a day goes by when we aren’t reminded that life can end abruptly and cruelly, perhaps an airplane crash, a mass shooting, a natural disaster, or a traffic accident, to name just a few examples. In the gospel, we were told that some Galileans were killed in the temple. This prompted Jesus to ask if the victims were greater sinners than other Galileans because they suffered such a fate. His question doesn’t surprise me since many individuals presume that God decides the fate of people based on their conduct.

In his book, Why Bad Things happen to Good People, Rabbi Harold Kushner makes the point that God gives us free will so that we could love both God and others. Because of that, God cannot control our lives. Most tragedies happen not because God wills them but because people happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They made the choice that put them there and as a consequence they became victims. God knows the moment when we will die, but God doesn’t decide the manner of our death. Death happens as a consequence of the choices we make along the way.

On Ash Wednesday, as I put ashes on everyone’s forehead, I said, “Repent and believe in the Gospel.” Did the words sink in since then? In the Gospel today, Jesus cautioned his listeners twice, “If you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” Death is one fate none of us can avoid, but as we know, eternal life is a whole new ball game. When we take our last breath, will we be welcomed to the eternal life of heaven or will we perish in the painful eternity called hell?

In the meantime, are we creating another form of hell for ourselves? Being human, we are like the Galileans. We are sinners so we too can perish because like the Israelites, we stumble into evil desires, fall into grumbling, and drift away from God, forgetting all the benefits that God is offering us. Sin, that is, any evil act that violates God’s will, has consequences, not only for the victim but also for the sinner. Unless we repent, we can find ourselves carrying around much dead weight that we call guilt.

Set in Paraguay in the late 18thcentury, the 1986 film, The Mission, recounts the Jesuits’ attempt to evangelize the Guarani Indians. One scene I will never forget is the climb by Rodrigo Mendoza. This humble penitent, once a proud army officer, now struggles to carry himself and his dead weight up to the top of Iguazu Falls. His dead weight is a huge net, tied to him with a thick rope that contains his helmet, sword and breastplate, instruments of his violent sinful past.

Like Mendoza, we struggle to move onwards and upwards on our life journey, hoping to eventually be with God in heaven. But often the weight of our sinful past holds us back and drags us down as surely as Mendoza’s net, stuffed with his sinful souvenirs, held him back on his arduous climb.

When he reached the top, Mendoza’s load was cut loose by his confessor. He was freed of his dead weight, just as we yearn to be freed from the sins of our past. And the great message of Jesus is that we can! While many times we can’t undo the past or pretend our past didn’t happen, the rope of guilt, which keeps us bound to our past sins can be cut, allowing us to continue our life journey with a greater sense of hope and peace. That is the central message of our faith.

The sacrament of reconciliation, known also as penance or confession, offers us an alternative to lugging around the dead weight of guilt by providing us an opportunity to take responsibility for the wrong we have done or the good that we have left undone. This sacrament provides the means for us to repent and draw closer to God rather than remain distant and estranged.

The Church teaches us that sin is either mortal or venial. While we can obtain forgiveness for our venial sins through a sincere act of contrition, we need to confess our mortal sins, which are defined as deliberate gravely offensive acts done with full knowledge of the evil of the act and full consent.

Granted, it is not easy to admit our sins to another person yet that is one of the values of this sacrament. Our personal confession merits a personal response and a personal act of forgiveness. After listening to the penitent, a confessor will often extend a penance that offers a spiritual prescription for healing based on the sins that were confessed.

We seek forgiveness for the specific sins we confess because these sins are the dead weight that weigh down on our conscience. How uplifting it is to hear the words of absolution spoken by a priest on behalf of Christ and his parting words, “Go in peace, your sins are forgiven.”

Many, I suspect, shy away from the sacrament because they imagine the priest will think less of them. Not so. What impresses many priests is not the sins they hear but the humility and the courage they encounter.

Jesus calls us to repentance, not a one time change of heart, but an ongoing, daily transformation of our lives. We are called to live the life we sing about in today’s psalm, blessing God’s holy name, forgetting not his benefits, but giving thanks for his kindness and mercy. Through this sacramental encounter, Christ seeks to fertilize our lives with his love and mercy, so that by turning away from sin and being faithful to the gospel, we can bear much fruit.

Poor Peter! He and the other apostles had left everything behind to follow this itinerant rabbi from Nazareth. Their native land has been under Roman occupation and they wanted to change the situation. They envisioned Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah who would liberate Judea from the yoke of the imperial Romans and now he has just been told, “The Son of Man must suffer many things, be rejected by the elders and the high priests, be killed and be raised on the third day. If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.”

Jesus said that when he first predicted that he would suffer at the hands of the chief priests and scribes. Eight days later he took Peter, James, and John and went up the mountain to pray. There, his glory is revealed to strengthen them for the scandal of the cross that they would soon witness. The transfiguration allowed the apostles to see Jesus in a new light, not as the earthly liberator they had envisioned him to be but as one truly sent by God. You could say that they too were transformed that day.

Years later when Paul wrote to the Christian community at Philippi, he called them more deeply into the Christian way of seeing things. He cautioned that many in their community were living as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their god was their stomach; their minds were occupied with earthly things. “But our citizenship,” he tells them, “is in heaven.” By embracing the risen Christ and all that Christ stands for, they could look forward to being transformed as well.

Two thousand years later, we hear the same message, but are we listening? Many Catholics put on outward facades of being religious but inwardly they tend to focus only on their wants and “earthly things.” They are too preoccupied with worldly issues to notice how God is trying to transform them into future citizens of heaven.

In his book, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, Steve Covey tells of an experience he had on a New York subway one Sunday. The passengers were sitting quietly; some were reading the paper, others were dozing, some were simply contemplating. It was a rather peaceful scene. At one stop a man and his children entered the car. Soon the children were yelling back and forth, throwing things and even grabbing things. The scene was very disturbing and yet the father just sat there alongside Steve and did nothing. Feeling irritated, Steve wondered how this man could let his children run around so wildly.

With patience and restraint, he said to the man, “Sir, your children are really disturbing a lot of people. I wonder if you couldn’t control them a little bit more?” The man lifted his gaze as though he was just beginning to notice what was happening. “Oh, you’re right,” he said. “I guess I should do something about it. We just came from the hospital where their mother died about an hour ago. I don’t know what to think and I guess they don’t know how to handle it either.”

Steve sat there speechless. “Can you imagine how I felt at the moment? Suddenly I saw things differently. Because I saw differently, I felt differently. I behaved differently. My irritation vanished. I didn’t have to worry about controlling my attitude or my behavior. My heart was filled with this man’s pain. Feelings of compassion and sympathy flowed freely.”

He then asked the man, “Oh, I’m so sorry! Can you tell me about it? What can I do to help?” Notice that nothing changed in the scene. The same people, the same irritation, the same kids. What changed was Covey’s way of seeing it all and with that new outlook came a change of attitude.

Likewise, we too will see the world differently when we truly recognize who Jesus is and can be in our daily lives.

Perhaps you have seen the movie, The Passion of the Christ, which realistically depicts the cruel violence done to Jesus in the last hours of his life. More disturbing to me than the horrendous brutality was the portrayal of Satan, lurking in the background, confident that he could break anyone, including Jesus. Despite the torture inflicted upon him, one could see the passion in Jesus to fight evil to the very end.

Many walked away from that movie in silence, subdued by what they had seen, as though they too were transformed.

The one line in today’s gospel that catches my attention is “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.” Whether we are rich or poor, well or ill, young or old, we are told, as were Peter, James and John, to listen to Jesus, to really listen and for good reason. The transfigured Christ calls us to the Lenten work of transforming ourselves, to transform the sadness, coldness and despair within us into the love, compassion, and hope for others to then experience Christ.

We are not perfect nor can anyone expect us to be perfect. But hopefully we can see that God is at work in us, slowly but surely transforming us into the image of Christ that we are called to be. Like Paul’s disciples in ancient Philippi, may we commit ourselves to Jesus as future citizens of heaven through prayer, fasting and almsgiving. Listening to Jesus, through meditation and scripture enables us to see the world differently and respond accordingly, transformed by his passion into becoming his true disciples.

In our most frequently recited prayer, the one composed by Jesus, we ask our Father to “lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” Do you really think God would ever lead us into temptation? No, what we are really asking, according to the Catechism of the Church, is “Do not let us yield to temptation but save us from the evil one!” 

We think of temptation as the cause of sin but for many early Christians, temptation also meant a time of testing; a time for us to choose between being faithful to God or not. In the gospel, we find Jesus passing the test with flying colors by demonstrating loyalty to his Father.

Each of us is put to the test daily. Everyday we are led into temptations of one kind or another because we have the freedom to choose throughout the day. Perhaps they are not so dramatic as the ones we find in the gospel, but then our resistance to Satan is not as dramatic or strong either. While Jesus was prepared to resist temptation, we sometimes prepare ourselves instead to give in.

I am reminded of a young boy whose father told him not to go swimming in the pond near their home. One evening, he came home carrying a wet bathing suit.  “Where have you been?” his father asked. “Swimming in the pond,” the boy confessed. “Didn’t I tell you not to swim there?” “Yes, sir,” the boy replied. “Then why did you?” “Well, dad,” the boy explained, “I had my bathing suit with me and I could not resist the temptation.” “So, why did you take your bathing suit with you?” his father asked. The boy replied, “So I’d be prepared to swim just in case I was tempted!”

The devil, whose name in Greek means “the deceiver,” seems to have a bottomless sack of tempting tricks available for his use, including the notion that he doesn’t even exist!

His methods and approaches vary from person to person because people differ, but his strategy remains the same. Every time the devil succeeds and we sin, the next temptation becomes a little stronger and more luring; and the fall from grace becomes easier. Before long, we become oblivious to the gravity and consequences of our sins.

The essence of sin is making the choice to go against the God’s will, as we understand it to be. Perhaps you are now making some choices which you regard as either not sinful at all or at least not a serious sin. Choices that the Church has always considered grave sins, like skipping Mass on Sundays because you want to sleep in or that’s the only time your family can be together. Or sexual activity outside of marriage, like indulging in pornography. Or malicious gossip, that is, speaking ill of someone. 

If we are inclined to reject the notion of Church authority, which many have done when it comes to moral issues like abortion, artificial contraception and euthanasia, or believe that we can be good Christians without the moral guidance of the church and its sacraments, especially confession, then we can be fairly sure that the devil is poking into our lives, deceiving us into believing that our wrongful acts are not harmful. Yes, Satan likes those who give into his luring appeal to ignore God’s will that is conveyed to us through the teaching authority of the Church, the magisterium.

Since the time when Eve was tempted in the Garden of Eden, human beings have often blamed others for the sins they themselves commit and the temptations they give into. The older ones among us may remember Flip Wilson’s famous excuse, “The devil made me do it.” Well, I got news for you; the devil doesn’t make us sin. He lures us, but we make the final choice to sin.

Archbishop Fulton Sheen said, “You are not tempted because you are evil; you are tempted because you are human.” Alas, we are sinners by nature. The devil succeeds at preventing us from doing the good that is in us through distractions, discouragement and despair or through the criticism and cynicism of others. 

Pope Francis reminds us of the threat sin poses to the world, “When we fail to live as children of God, we often behave in a destructive way towards our neighbors and other creatures and ourselves as well since we begin to think more or less consciously that we can use them as we will. The mentality expressed in the slogans ‘I want it all and I want it now!’ and ‘Too much is never enough,’ gains the upper hand.”

Most temptations invite us to do things we already know are wrong, wasteful or harmful. As irresistible as any temptation may be, we are always given a choice. Like the young boy who left home with a bathing suit, are we setting our selves up to sin or like Jesus, are we striving to resist sin? Keep in mind that we don’t have to face those moments alone. Paul tells us, our best defense against temptation is faith in Jesus. “Everyone who calls on the name of Jesus will be saved.” 

God endeavors to deliver us from evil; that is why Jesus came into the world.  We can resist temptation through prayer, almsgiving, and fasting. Each is an antidote for overcoming the urge to indulge in our own wants at the expense of others and to recognize that we are in need of redemption for what we have done or failed to do. Lent is an ideal time for us to venture into the desert offered by the sacrament of reconciliation. When we recognize and resist those old forms of temptations in our lives, then we know we are passing the test with flying colors!

If these scripture readings seem new and unfamiliar, that is because they are rarely heard. The last time was back in 2001. Too often by now we are in the midst of Lent, but since Easter is late this year, we are blessed with the opportunity to ponder its practical and important message.

We just heard some challenging words from Jesus and Sirach about being judgmental, superior, and hypocritical. Lest you think of yourself as innocent of any of these traits, Sirach offered us some pertinent insights about speech, which reminded me of the times I have regretted what I have said, wishing instead that I had kept quiet. Perhaps you have felt that way too.

Traditionally, we think of Jesus as a carpenter or the good shepherd but in this instance, he comes across as a wise sage who knows human nature quite well. The life lessons he teaches in his sermon on the plain are akin to homespun wisdom rooted in daily life and experience.

His parable is filled with aphorisms. An aphorism is a tersely phrased statement of the truth. In the first one, Jesus asks, “Can a blind person guide a blind person? Will not both fall into a pit?” He then cautions that people cannot teach until they have learned. This is true in every aspect of life, but particularly in the Church. In the Catholic Church we are blessed with a teaching authority that is learned. This authority is often given the Latin word for teacher and called the magisterium.

The magisterium consists of the Pope, the Bishops, theologians and consultants. The duty of the magisterium is to set the course for us to relate our faith and morals to the evolving times. We take this for granted because most of us have always been Catholic and have always had the body of our faith presented to us in a rather neat package. But dogmatic statements and Church teachings didn’t just happen. They evolved over many centuries as the Church continues to grow in its understanding of itself. Likewise, we need to keep growing in the knowledge of our faith.

When we have times of doubt, or times that we have difficulty understanding what we believe or why we believe, we have to go to books and knowledgeable people in the area. We also have to go to our knees and pray to the Holy Spirit to help us grow in faith. The blind cannot lead the blind. That is why we have been gifted with the Holy Spirit. That is why we have the magisterium.

The second aphorism is, “Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye when you miss the plank in your own?” How often have we experienced the nitpicking nag who quickly points out the faults of others while conveniently overlooking his or her own? Psychologists might explain the second aphorism in this way: we tend to transfer our irritation over our own shortcomings to others. Thus we criticize another person’s faults as a way of hiding our own. The Lord was quite serious when he said, “You hypocrite! First deal with your own faults.” When we go through those negative days when everything other people do irritates us, we should take a step back and consider what we are doing that upsets others, and, even more, what we are doing that upsets us.

The concluding bit of wisdom is also based on lived experience. “A good tree does not bear rotten fruit nor does a rotten tree bear good fruit. For every tree is known by its fruit.” Can you expect to find figs on thorny bushes or grapes on prickly bushes? Of course not. The point of Jesus’ final aphorism is that just as each tree is known by its fruit, we are known by what we do and say. Simply put, good people do not do bad deeds.

We know that actions speak louder than words. When a person does good things, we know this is a good person. When a person is continually stirring up trouble, we know that this person is troubled. The fruit reveals the person. In the same way, it is not enough for us to say we are saved and then live as pagans. In fact, it is not enough to say we are saved. What we need to say is that we are in the process of being saved.

Our actions ought to reflect God’s gift to us. If they don’t, then we are in fact rejecting his offer of salvation. Yes, we always depend upon the mercy of God, but we have to respond to this mercy by doing our best to live the Christian life. If we don’t, than our actions will demonstrate the insincerity of our conversion.

Jesus used figurative language of splinters and wooden beams, figs and grapes, thornbushes and brambles to tell us that true disciples must practice what they preach; they must give evidence of their discipleship. Each person, Jesus concludes, speaks from the heart’s abundance. It is not enough for us to believe that God loves us or that Jesus died on the cross to save us. With these images, Jesus is asking, “Does your behavior reflect God’s love?”

In a few days we begin our Lenten journey. I need this Lent and I suspect you do too. Ashes will be placed on our foreheads, with the advice, “Repent, and believe in the gospel.” Lent is a good time to grow in our faith life, and to let the magisterium and Holy Spirit guide us. Lent is a time for us to look into ourselves, to ponder our efforts at living the Christian life and to evaluate if indeed our actions and words demonstrate whom we claim to be.

The encounter between David and Saul speaks of enmity and justice. That brings to mind the story of Corrie ten Boom. During WWII, Corrie and her family lived in the Netherlands, which was occupied by Nazi Germany. Like other Christians, her family risked providing a hiding place for Jews from the Nazis. They finally were caught and sent to a concentration camp. On New Year’s Day, 1945, Corrie was released after spending ten months at Ravensbruck, an extermination camp for women where her sister, Betsie, had died.

After regaining her health, Corrie set out to bring a message of love and reconciliation to war-torn Europe. Once, when she had finished speaking at a church in Munich, a man approached her. Corrie recognized the heavy set, balding man; he was one of the cruelest guards at Ravensbruck. Many haunting memories surfaced. She remembered the harsh lights and the forced undressing. She recalled the shame of walking naked past this guard and now he was standing there offering to shake her hand.

The former guard, not recognizing Corrie, explained what had happened since his days as a guard. He had become a Christian, and he knew that God had forgiven him for the cruel things he had done. But that wasn’t enough. Could Corrie, on behalf of once imprisoned women, forgive him?

At that moment, the words of Luke’s gospel came to mind. “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you.” Corrie stood there for what seemed like forever. Finally with tears in her eyes, she cried, “I forgive you brother, with all my heart.”

The message for us from today’s readings is so clear and yet so difficult. We are told to be compassionate, even to our worst enemies and anyone who hates us. Corrie could do what seems impossible to us, because she believed in Christ’s words, “Love your enemies and do good to those who hate you. Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.” 

This is no ordinary love that Jesus is talking about here; certainly not the sentimental love that we celebrated on Valentine’s Day. Rather, this is a radical kind of love, demonstrated for us by Jesus himself on the cross.

Years ago, in the magazine, US Catholic, the question of forgiveness was debated. The article noted that forgiveness is not easy. We are always practicing forgiveness and we always need to be forgiven. “Forgiveness,” it noted, “takes time. Forgiveness of self, others and God is a way of life that enables us to move on.” This is what Corrie discovered and this is what we need to discover for ourselves as well.

Many of those who responded to the survey agreed that “it’s a sin to withhold forgiveness,” yet they also admitted that forgiving someone can be very difficult. It is not easy to forgive but we certainly want to be forgiven, don’t we?

Sometimes in my role as a confessor, I need to make the point that forgiving and forgetting do not mean the same thing. The act may be too horrendous to forget but that does not dispense us from the wise counsel Jesus gives us.

Ultimately, we come out ahead when we forgive. It is for our sake that Jesus urges us to forgive those who have wronged us. Consider the consequences when we refuse to forgive. Who is hurt by all the bitterness? Does your refusal to forgive stop bad things from happening? Does your refusal to forgive protect you physically or emotionally? Does it pay back the person who hurt you? Does refusing to forgive help you to get even with the person who hurt you? Not likely.

When we refuse to forgive, we continue to hurt ourselves. From that darkness of bitterness and hurt, Jesus is trying to save us with advice that makes little sense yet does work. Forgiving others brings about the peace we yearn for.  Without forgiveness, a broken relationship has little chance of being restored.

We might be tempted to deny that we have any enemies but let’s not kid ourselves. In a world filled with sin, enemies are not hard to come by. When people make us angry, we make them our enemies. We also make enemies of those who insult us, cheat us, or even differ in opinion from us. In addition, we can be our own worst enemy by not loving ourselves. When things aren’t going well for us, we can easily make God an enemy as well.

Even if we deny having personal enemies, there could be some unnamed class of persons, such as those on welfare, immigrants, or members of an ethnic or religious minority. In short, an enemy is someone we refuse to love.

The love that Jesus often speaks of isn’t about feelings, nor is the love he speaks of about liking someone. For us to fully savor the experience of God’s love and forgiveness, we must do the same. And if that doesn’t come easy, then at least pray for the person who hurt you. Begin by asking God to bless that person just as you would ask God to bless those whom you love. In due time, your own heart may be healed of its bitterness, fear or prejudice.

Many of us make resolutions to follow during Lent, which is just days away. There are many good resolutions to draw from in today’s gospel. As Luke points out, “The measure you measure with will be measured back to you.”