But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’
In the VA hospital, for many years, I facilitated the "spirituality discussion." I was never too sure what they meant by spirituality, since Catholics know dozens of different forms. Franciscan, Jesuit, Benedictine, Carmelite, John of God, to name a few. The VA knows only one; they worry about 'the loss of spirituality" without ever saying what exactly they lost.
In any case, as facilitator of the philosophical discussion about living a good life, I asked the Veterans to "Tell me a story." I wanted to hear especially how their alcoholism, drug abuse, or habitual selfishness had plagued their lives and destroyed their essential connections to other people. They might find hope as a trajectory appears from their childhood and military service toward recovery and wellness. I said, Tell me a story!" so many times, some began to kid me about it.
Many who were just setting out on the road to recovery, had forgotten their past; they often deflected my pointed question with theories about how people should act. Often, when speaking of themselves they said you rather than I or me; and, as often as not, they failed to get the distinction when I pointed it out.
While hearing confessions, I ask the penitents to, "Tell me a story!" Unfortunately, some have been told not to tell stories by their priests; they should talk about their faults. "Sometimes I get angry. Maybe I am proud, or suspicious, or fearful." And then there's the ifs: "If I hurt anyone, I'm sorry.
Well? Did you hurt someone? When? Where? Who? Why? What did you hope to gain by it? Did you get what you wanted? Are you sorry now? Do you regret it? Would you give up what you gained in atonement for what you did?
God cannot forgive if you did wrong. Or maybe or perhaps.
If someone hurt you by a serious act of betrayal would you be reconciled by their if or maybe? Would that make all the difference?
As father confessor I say, "Tell me what you did. When? Where? To whom? Why? Was this behavior typical for you? What happened next? How did they feel? How did you feel? Did you apologize? Was your apology accepted? Did you ask, "How can I make it up to you?" How did you atone or make reparation for what you did? What did they do? Or what sign did they give that makes you think they forgave you?"
"Okay!" Some people say, and then tell me a real story about something that actually happened.
And then we celebrate the Sacrament of Penance. Often reparation has been made; forgiveness, given; and reconciliation, accomplished. We had only to celebrate the mercy of God, which is what the Sacrament is about.
They leave the Penance Room floating on air, and THAT IS REAL.
Jesus of Nazareth is the Son of God. He lived in the first century AD; he was crucified; and God raised him up. That really happened.
We have always to struggle to make our practices of faith, hope, and love real and historical. They're not imaginary attitudes that we might have when we're our best selves. They must make a difference. In today's parable, both penitents went through the motions but only one went home justified; the other did not.
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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.