Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 133

Forgive your neighbor’s injustice; then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven. Could anyone nourish anger against another and expect healing from the LORD? Could anyone refuse mercy to another like himself, can he seek pardon for his own sins? If one who is but flesh cherishes wrath, who will forgive his sins?

My historian friend Father Camillus once told me that, despite my major in English, I have a pretty good understanding of history. Given that encouragement I will venture a theory: Beginning with Greek philosophy western civilization has struggled to lift its face from the muck of passionate emotions and attain the calm, deliberate, intelligent vision of reason. 

Anyone can react in anger, joy, or desire and explain their action with one or more of those emotions. "It felt good!" But was the act reasonable? Did it help the situation? Do you feel good about the results? 

In the Greek spirit of elevating the mind and rationality, early Christians often practiced severe asceticism in the effort to control their desires and emotions. They fasted for days at a time, passed long sleepless nights in prayer, and punished their bodies with hairshirts and flails. All in an effort to discipline their appetites. Many attained astounding control of their bodies. Despite their emaciated appearances and long, drawn faces, they could walk long journeys, endure cold, miserable nights without complaint, and suffer the torture of enemies. During Saint Francis's last two years, after he had received the stigmata, the legends say he looked like a corpse, a dancing corpse, as he preached the Good News of Jesus!

Need I add these men and women had completely erased their sexual appetites? The younger Saint Francis, tormented by desire, once got up in the night and created a woman of snow. Then, as he considered marriage, he realized he must have children of snow, and several servants. Remember, he had grown up amid wealth, with cooks, maids, body guards, launderesses, and gofers. A household was a lot of people. "If that's what you want, Francis," he said, "go for it!" He was never tempted again. (So the legends says.)

With deeper reflection and the Renaissance appreciation for both passion and the beauty of the human body, Christian spirituality has paid less attention to mortification of the body and more attention to the needs of the poor. Human history is, unfortunately, a story of the relentlessly widening gap between poverty and wealth. Today the Holy Spirit urges us to care for the body while paying more attention to the needs of others. 

But we are still carried away by passions occasionally, and that's usually not good for anyone. I am told that Wall Street is driven by fear and greed. A friend who worked in a brokerage office told me of desperate phone calls from anxious investors whenever The Economy hickupped. 

Marketeers know how to generate anxiety among shoppers to sell more stuff. Children readily justify their pummelling one another with half-truths, "He started it!" Unfortunately, nations go to war and murder vast numbers of defenseless civilians with the same flimsy excuse.

Today's first reading urges us to "Forgive your neighbor's injustice. Then, when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven." Angry, hurt, frightened, we rarely pause to consider our own guilt. 

When I visit the psych ward in the hospital, I often meet people whose complaints about loved ones are precisely my own! They cannot stop pleading their cases like lawyers in a courtroom -- as if their doctors, nurses, chaplains, and fellow patients should judge and vindicate them. I realize these patients are no sicker than me when I feel offended!

Today's gospel describes a vicious servant who refuses to forgive a small debt after his own enormous debt has been erased. Clearly, the man is driven by strange emotions. Perhaps he thinks he has pulled the wool over his master's eyes and will not have a fellow servant do the same to him. Or perhaps he feels humiliated after cringing before the master, and despises a fellow servant cringing before him. But whatever his feelings may be, they do not justify his action. He must suffer a terrible punishment. 

Then Jesus delivers his own verdict, "So will my heavenly Father do to you, unless each of you forgives your brother from your heart.”

Christians practice penance daily, examining our thoughts, feelings, impulses, and actions in the light of the Gospel. We ask the Holy Spirit to help us recognize and claim our sinfulness. We hope we might recognize our foolishness before others do! But, if they point it out to us, we can gratefully accept the feedback. We put away every pretense of being better than others. Unlike the Pharisee in the temple, we say, "Oh Lord, I thank you that I am like the rest of humanity,"greedy, dishonest, adulterous." 

We ponder Jesus's threat and ask again for mercy even as we renew our commitment to show mercy to others. Free of the muck of passionate emotions, we enjoy a clearer vision of all people. They are indeed images of God.