Monday, December 11, 2023

Monday of the Second Week of Advent

Lectionary: 181

When Jesus saw their faith, he said, "As for you, your sins are forgiven."


Interpreters and preachers often suggest that the faith in this story is that of the intrepid stretcher bearers who carried the unhappy man onto the roof and then lowered him through the ceiling in front of Jesus and all the amused watchers. He seemed unwilling or unable to speak for himself. All three evangelists use the same expression, "Jesus saw their faith..." with emphasis on the Lord's initiative. They didn't even need to ask.  

The scriptures and our theological tradition insists that the Lord came to save us despite our silent failure to ask for relief. We might grumble, murmur, and complain -- to use three more polite words -- but we will neither ask nor expect compassion from God. In fact, the uninspired pagan gods of our imagination show favor only to their favorites. Others may seek their patronage with magical practices and exaggerated sacrifices; but otherwise, don't expect much. 

The God of Abraham, Moses, David, and Jesus comes to our rescue despite our unwillingness to be saved. He sacrifices his only begotten son for our salvation; and the offer, raised from the dead, stands before us, beautiful to behold. 

The story also raises the issue of who can forgive sins. Pharisee witnesses of the incident insist that God alone can forgive sins. And yet we do it all the time. Living in families and among neighbors, cooperating with colleagues, we routinely forgive and forget many disappointments. Things work out, life moves on, there's no point in holding a grudge, we don't sweat the small stuff, and enjoy the company of those around us. 

And sometimes we forgive serious violations of the covenant among us. We quarrel, apologize, make nice, and make up. We cannot live without that ordinary grace of forgiveness. 

The Pharisees, perhaps, are those among us who never let things go; who remember and nurse grudges until the tension is unbearable and peace gives way to violence. They are willing to admit that God forgives, but don't expect it to happen often, nor do they want it, or ask for it. They're certain they have no personal need for forgiveness; or suppose the sins of their past are forgotten and done with. 

The story also raises the questions of Jesus's authority to forgive sins in the name of God, and of the Church's authority. Does Baptism forgive the sins of those who honestly turn away from a sinful past and to the Lord of Mercy? What if the person administering the sacrament is not worthy? What if the Church which sponsors the rite is seriously compromised by heresy or schism? 

And can the Church forgive repeatedly those who slip back into their former sins. Most alcoholics in recovery lapse once or several times before they truly get the program. How many times should the family, friends, employers, or support group welcome them back? Is that fund of mercy truly inexhaustible? 

The Pharisees raise a serious question which challenges us all. Repeated sins begin to grate after a while. We'd like an end to some stories and yet they just keep coming back. Perhaps skeletons can be left in closets until the old buildings are replaced with parking lots and shopping malls, and families vanish into the general population. If the Kingdom of God ever appears, there might be some places left in darkness, walled off, isolated, ignored, forgotten. Just don't go there. 

Jesus takes the initiative in this story; he forgives the sins of a silent man who might not have asked forgiveness. Perhaps he and the onlookers were mostly amused by the extraordinary effort of his pals. Doesn't humor cover a multitude of sins? Only the unamused Pharisees would complain. 

God's grace is freely given by the Lord and by his church; and those who are free enjoy both giving and receiving mercy. 












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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.