Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 150

The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself, 'O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity -- greedy, dishonest, adulterous -- or even like this tax collector.

Saint Clare of Assisi, a young disciple of Saint Francis, often gazed into "The Mirror of Perfection," and she urged her sisters -- whom we know today as the Poor Clare Sisters -- to do the same. 

It's an odd expression for we know that there were no mirrors in monasteries of women or men. Why would they want one, since they worked in their gardens on their farms, spent many hours a day in the convent praying alone or with the community, and had no social life? There was no need to check their appearance in the mirror before they went out, since they never went out. 

But Clare could use that familiar image because mirrors sometimes tell us more than we want to know. Snow White's wicked queen was disappointed when her magic mirror informed her that she was no longer the fairest in the land; that the younger Snow White was more beautiful and more desirable. It happens to the best of us. 

We often use the mirror of other people to check out our own spiritual progress, like the Pharisee in today's parable. He saw himself as religiously superior to the tax collector who stayed in the back of the temple and would not approach the altar. The loudmouthed Pharisee -- "talking to himself," as Saint Luke said --  brazenly reminded God that he fasted twice a week, and paid tithes on his whole income; and he assumed the tax collector did neither. He looked pretty good in the mirror of a total stranger. ! 

It's easy to do that sort of thing and I am sure we all do it periodically. Saint Clare, in a community of younger and older women with many different talents, abilities, dispositions, and affinities knew all about comparing herself to others. She urged us to look elsewhere; in fact, we should gaze into the Mirror of Perfection. 

What is that magic device? Will it tell us how beautiful we are, as the mirror reassured the Wicked Queen before Snow White came along; or will it show us who we are in God's sight. Clare gazed upon the Cross of Jesus Christ. She looked at the cross and remembered that he died for our sins. We can do the same. 

We can also see that, although we love Jesus and care about others, we are not nearly so willing or eager to sacrifice, much less die, for others. As Saint Paul said, 

For Christ, while we were still helpless... Jesus died at the appointed time for the ungodly.

Indeed, only with difficulty does one die for a just person, though perhaps for a good person one might even find courage to die.

But God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us. (Romans 5:7-8)

On the cross we see a man who is utterly without sin, who has worked tirelessly day and night to announce the Kingdom of God, to call sinners to repentance. He has healed the sick and raised the dead. He has shown compassion to everyone, including the least regarded and most unworthy among us. His love for God and his love for others was literally boundless. And if I ever think that I might match his holiness and perfection, my delusion will last about three seconds, if I can hold out that long. 

While we're looking into the Mirror of Perfection we also see Mary, the Mother of the Lord, and his disciples and apostles, and thousands of martyrs and saints who have testified with their blood about the Kingdom of God. And we know we cannot measure up; that in all fairness and truth, we should have no standing with the saints and no right to claim a place in heaven. We are not worthy of their company, and no one could blame the saints if they chose not to associate with us. 

This mirror of perfection tells us the truth about ourselves. But it also teaches us to stay there because it is so beautiful. We must gaze more deeply into it; and see how beautiful, good, and worthy is the Lamb who was slain! We are fascinated by his Goodness; we can hardly take our eyes off him, and his mother, and his saints. 

And then, we forget all about ourselves. What does it matter? Who cares that I am nothing; that I am unworthy; that I should ask for nothing? Look at what I have been given, this vision of immortal beauty beyond all comparison. 

Very often, peeling ourselves away from that beauty we return to the world and our everyday chores; and we find people who are, in fact, better and more worthy than ourselves. They're everywhere! Husbands and wives who sacrifice for their children. Old people who raise their grandchildren and great grandchildren. People who volunteer for thousands of worthy causes in schools, churches, and community organizations. And then we look at our own efforts and realize how small they are, if we're doing anything! And we remember how we have wanted more: more attention, more stuff, more power, more recognition. 

And we grow ashamed of ourselves and decide not to act that way ever again. It’s just not worth it; but God has said I am worth the passion and death of his only begotten Son; and I will never forget that.

So the Mirror of Perfect is both kind and cruel, it shows me my sins and it shows me intoxicating, rapturous beauty. I do not need to see myself in the mirror of other people: neither prettier nor uglier, neither richer nor poorer; neither happier, wealthier, more popular nor more satisfied than myself. I do not need to know if I am the fairest in the land because I gaze upon the Fairest Son of God and his Most Fair Mother.