Friday, February 10, 2023

Memorial of Saint Scholastica, Virgin

 Lectionary: 333

Blessed is he whose fault is taken away, whose sin is covered.
Blessed the man to whom the LORD imputes not guilt, in whose spirit there is no guile.
R. Blessed are those whose sins are forgiven.


Concerning the confession of sins, a traditional practice which promises not to go away despite its unpopularity, a thought -- a notion or insight or inspiration -- came at me recently. Let me tax your patience and explore it. 

Before we go to confession we should examine our conscience and discover a ready list of recent sins. They'll be known largely by their familiarity; we've confessed the same peccadillos many times before. The list is ready because we've also practiced a daily examination of conscience, usually at bedtime. During this preparatory examination we review the Ten Commandments to discover the categories of our sins. Finally, with an eager spirit and sorrowful heart we approach the Sacrament. That's the theory, anyway. Many of us learned it in Catholic school during the Second Grade, as we prepared for First Communion. 

What came to me as a brilliant idea was this: Psalm 106 recalls the sinful history of our ancestors. After five verses of God's praises it begins, 
"We have sinned like our ancestors; we have done wrong and are guilty."

And then it launches into the long, sad story, 

"Our ancestors in Egypt did not attend to your wonders. They did not remember your manifold mercy; they defied the Most High at the Red Sea..." 

Perhaps my examination of conscience should begin with a review of our historical sins, the sins of our ancestors. I can ask myself, What sins did I learn from my parents, grandparents, and elders? What sins are typical of my culture, class, race, and ethnicity? And finally, how are my attitudes, thoughts, words, and deeds like those of my people? 

If I need any help with that process I should only read the news. There I am reminded of America's:
  • waste and casual misuse of limited resources; 
  • its racism/classism as we copy the attitudes of our peers toward people of higher or lower estate;
  • its demeaning sexism toward women and men, and especially children; 
  • its determination to eliminate racial, ethnic, and sexual differences in a melting pot of inclusive conformity; 
  • its pride and presumption as we use position or responsibilities to lord it over others; 
  • and so forth and so on. 
Finally, before approaching the Sacrament, we remember the history of God's mercy. Psalm 106 continues, 
Yet he saved them for his name’s sake
to make his power known.
He roared at the Red Sea and it dried up.
He led them through the deep as through a desert.
He rescued them from hostile hands,
freed them from the power of the enemy. (verses 8-10)

I need not approach the Mercy Seat with particular shame about myself. I am no better than my people, and have no need for that pretense. But I do belong to this people God has chosen for his own, and I am grateful for the assurance I have learned from our history.  



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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.