"Those who are healthy do not need a physician, but the sick do.
I have not come to call the righteous to repentance but sinners."
W ith the end of February and the promise of March, we can stow the warmest clothing, thickest gloves, and heaviest coats of the last two months. There may be some chilly days ahead but they won't have the threat of worse to come.
With the onset of Lent we can also stow our images as good, worthy, capable, qualified persons who are eminently worth knowing. We can leave that pile at the entrance of our churches, and not collect them again upon leaving.
We hear with relief the Lord's declaration, "I have not come to call the righteous but sinners." We have known all along, though unwilling to admit, that we aren't really fit to be called righteous. There is just too much involved in that standing before God. Plus, the pretense before one's enemies, neighbors, colleagues, friends, and family -- especially the family because they know entirely too much -- that pretense is too heavy. It's tiresome, boring, and stifling. It goes nowhere and creates nothing.
Sinners have no secrets and remember everything. Concerning that which they don't remember, others may remind them. My sister -- voluntarily and unasked -- once polished my shoes with liquid polish. When she told me about it, I told her it's better to use wax.
What a jerk!
She told me about my unkindness several years later, when she saw me dabbing liquid polish on my shoes. What could I say?
What I did say was, "That sounds like something I would do. I'm sorry."
Reconciliation rooms look like closets. (Newer ones are larger closets.) Perhaps that's where we should stow those old images. Or keep them in storage bins, since no one ever reuses that stuff anyway. Or give them to Saint Vincent de Paul or Goodwill, where some unfortunate souls might find use for them.
"Lord, I have done that which is like what I am, nor can anything else be expected at my hands but these and the like transgressions; nor had I stopped here, but plunged myself further into all wickedness, if thy goodness had permitted it, and left me wholly to myself.
I give thee infinite thanks that thou didst not thus leave me, and for what I have done I am sorry. Pardon me for thy own sake, and for what thou art, and give me grace to offend thee no more, but admit me again to the favor of thy friendship."
(This prayer is found in chapter 16 of John of Bonilla's Pax Anima, which I have. transcribed as a page on this blog. You may find the entire treatise listed with collects of March and Lent, at the upper right of this page,)
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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.