R. Remember us, O Lord, as you favor your people.
We have sinned, we and our fathers;
we have committed crimes; we have done wrong.
Our fathers in Egypt considered not your wonders.
R. Remember us, O Lord, as you favor your people.
Cardinal Timothy Dolan, archbishop of New York, once declared, "You don't have to tell me about sin in the Church. I'm a church historian!"
Perhaps it's good that some people, unlike the Cardinal, are scandalized by the incidence and magnitude of sin within our communion. It should not happen. It doesn't have to happen. But there it is.
And then we remember, "Of course we're sinners!" Why did we come to the church if not for salvation, release, and forgiveness?
We are surprised though, by the depth and persistence of sin. If some of us have grown too old for the sins of our youth, the desire may yet persist. And our obnoxious egos continue to look for ways around the Lord's narrow gate. I was struck recently by a phrase in the Letter of Saint James. It might be fun to quote this passage when my friars give me a hard time about something:
Consider it all joy... when you encounter various trials,
for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.
And let perseverance be perfect, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
They tell the story of the old friar who often prayed for perseverance in his vocation. The younger men wondered what temptations would possibly torment the ancient man. But he was probably praying for the willingness to live with these young whippersnappers and their ungodly ways.
Or perhaps he knew his fear of illness and debility, and how he clung to his independence. He could still bathe and dress himself. He could still walk to the dining room, the recreation room, and the chapel.
But the day would come. Would he despair on that day? Would he take the advice of Job's wife: “Are you still holding to your innocence? Curse God and die!”
The world is full of many trials and severe testings. Our first reading today describes a political crime when a self-anointed king tore Israel away from Judah, Jerusalem, and the Temple where the Lord dwelt among his people. Jeroboam set up golden idols to represent God "in Bethel and in Dan. He also built temples on the high places and made priests from among the people who were not Levites." This apostasy took the whole population out of communion with their northern brethren. In the eighth century BCE, Assyria overran Israel and the "ten tribes of Israel" were lost to history. The Jewish historians lamented:
This was a sin on the part of the house of Jeroboam
for which it was to be cut off and destroyed from the earth.
The Divine Authors knew that sin is not only a personal decision. It is social and political and masses of people readily agree to flout God's law. The consequences can persist for generations. First they seem ineradicable and then normal. When Justice appeals to the conscious of their descendants some will say, "Forget it! It's all past!" And others will say, "Move on, there's no undoing the past."
But, as William Faulkner said of the southern states, "The past is never dead. It's not even past."
It can only become past when we have turned to the Lord and atoned for the wrong of our ancestors. Today's Psalm 106 concludes:
For their sake he remembered his covenant
and relented in his abundant mercy,
Winning for them compassion
from all who held them captive.
Save us, LORD, our God;
gather us from among the nations
That we may give thanks to your holy name
and glory in praising you.
*Blessed be the LORD, the God of Israel,
from everlasting to everlasting!
Let all the people say, Amen!
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.