Memorial of Saint Josaphat, Bishop and Martyr

Lectionary: 491

Jesus said to his disciples, "Things that cause sin will inevitably occur, but woe to the one through whom they occur. It would be better for him if a millstone were put around his neck and he be thrown into the sea than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin. Be on your guard!

In today's gospel Jesus does not say, "Things that cause sin will probably occur." He says they will inevitably occur. Jesus knew betrayal. The early church knew betrayal. It happened often. 

During this past summer we saw another sickening wave of revelations about sexual misconduct among the clergy. Some of it was old news rehashed with previously unnamed names; some concerned the exploitation of young, hopeful men in the seminary. Jesus' appalling word, inevitably, is fulfilled in our midst. 

As distressing as these stories are, it's reassuring that the Crucified -- that is, the One who was most innocent and most dreadfully betrayed by a trusted apostle -- saw these things in advance.

Every generation produces a new wave of innocents who, unfamiliar with the treacherous depths of the human heart, believe they will become as pure as they suppose their fellow believers are pure. In many cases they have seen and suffered violence; some have perpetrated violence. But they hope that's all behind them now as they join the Saints around the Table of the Lord. 

We eagerly welcome them to the table, and pray with them for that same redeeming grace, but we know there will yet be hard times.

At the end of every tunnel there's a light; and at the end of every light, there's a tunnel.

The early church experienced much betrayal. I read recently of Saint Augustine and the Donatists. During the last of the Roman persecutions, some Christians had denied their faith to avoid martyrdom; some had even betrayed their fellow Christians to certain death. When the crisis passed and the Church resumed its public life, the Donatists declared the traitors could not be forgiven or reconciled to the Church. The faithful could not share communion with the faithless. 

They went further and declared the sacraments of any priest or bishop who had failed the test were not valid. By their sin they had forfeited the authority to baptize or consecrate the Eucharist. Priests ordained by treasonous bishops were not ordained. Anyone who attended their masses was also excommunicated. 

Saint Augustine opposed their harsh judgement and declared that the Church could forgive and be reconciled even with those who had betrayed their fellow Christians. The sacraments of those priests were valid because God's grace cannot fail. Darkness cannot overcome the light. God's infinite mercy penetrates and fills and purifies even the bottomless treachery of the human heart. 

If this were not so, Jesus' predictions about that treachery would be pointless. In fact, his whole mission would have failed before it began.

Augustine met a similar challenge with the Pelagian heresy which taught that the Christian, given a second chance through baptism, could save herself by living a pure and chaste life and never sinning again.

"It ain't gonna happen!" he might have said.

The sin of the Donatist is tempting. That is, the sin of condemning the guilty, distancing oneself from them, and supposing that by despising wickedness one is saved. But the claim invites the very guilt one despises. The Donatist takes secret pleasure in the guilt of others and his own presumed superiority. 

Saint Paul taught us an entirely different understanding, one that is utterly unexpected by the wise of this world. In his letter to the Galatians he declared:

Christ ransomed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written, “Cursed be everyone who hangs on a tree...”

and in Second Corinthians 5, he astonished us with:

For our sake he made him to be sin who did not know sin, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him.

Jesus stands guilty with us before his Heavenly Father. That is the mission he takes upon himself both obediently and willingly. He was pleased to call us his sisters and brothers -- especially in our guilt. In fact, Jesus rebuked the flatterer who called him, "Good Master!" with, "Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.

When we hear that those who scandalize the innocent should have a millstone around their necks and thrown into the sea, we should shudder. We should neither rejoice in the condemnation of the wicked nor flee to the righteous corner. 

Recently a man murdered eleven Jews in Pittsburgh. Some people are calling for the death penalty. But that transparently denies the collusion of all those who promote conspiracy theories. That fellow is no doubt guilty; but he is also a mentally-ill stooge of those who prompted him to the crime. Clearly, he believed he represented millions of people when he opened fire; he believed they would support him. Killing him will not vindicate anyone. He would only become a martyr for the cause. 

He should go to prison where he can be prevented from doing further harm, and protected from further harm. And then, let the rest of us recognize our guilt in all these tragic affairs, and plead with Jesus for God's mercy.