On the wall of a church in France, pilgrims find this beautiful saying which relates well to this Sunday’s readings:
No saint is without a past. No sinner is without a future.
Concise, but the saying so profoundly speaks of God’s inexhaustible mercy. It speaks of hope for us who are sinners in our own broken humanity.
Often, many of us find ourselves become so alienated from God because we feel ashamed of our sinfulness. We find ourselves unworthy to be close to God. We fear not being accepted. We fear condemnations. Many would not hesitate to call themselves “the scarlet sinner.”
It is true that, in our weakness, we sin often. Nevertheless, in the realization of our sinfulness, we find the need of a redeemer; there lies our possibility for redemption; there lies our hope for forgiveness.
Among all the old pious sayings, I like this one the most: “In heaven, there are all sorts of vices, but lacks only pride. In hell, there are all sorts of virtues, but lacks only humbleness.”
In today’s Gospel, Jesus presents the parable of the two sons. One refuses to do the Father’s will at first, but then feels bad, so he changes his mind. The second one eagerly agrees to his Father’s entrusted task, but does not carry it out. The Lord goes on to compare tax collectors and prostitutes, who, in the eyes of the culture of his time, are considered sinful outcasts, to the first son who, in fact, has done the Father’s will and hence commendable. The Lord even shockingly says that these outcast sinners will enter the kingdom of heaven before the chief priests and elders. It is rather harsh to hear, isn’t it?
Why is the Lord being so hard on those folks who are so conscious with the laws and have been observing them to the dot?
These wonderful religious leaders are in fact very fastidious when comes to fulfilling the laws of the Torah. They are rather concerned with holiness. As one of the spiritual directors here at the seminary would always say, “they are very holy. And they also know that they are holy.” Yes, there is only one flaw with the high priests and elders; they have become too self-righteous. And because they are so self-righteous and so at ease with their own conscience, they are no longer in need of a Savior. Forgiveness isn’t necessary.
But, for the tax collectors and prostitutes, they know that they are yet sinners. They are aware of their shortcomings and stains. Thus, they find themselves in need of God’s forgiveness always. And as long as they need God’s forgiveness, his forgiveness will always be available for them.
Same can be said for all of us. Even though, we have fallen short many times. Even though, we have sunk into the deep pit of sins and shame. As long as we are aware of our sinfulness, and as long as we are aware of our need for God’s love and forgiveness, his love and forgiveness will always be available for us; because, “there is no pit so deep that God is not deeper still” (Betsie Ten Boom). Shortly after he was elected to the Chair of St. Peter, John XXIII visited the Regina Coeli Prison outside Rome (Why a prison is called Queen of Heavens is beyond my comprehension). This action set off an international orgy of press reporting. There he is on film, a confident, cheerful old man, his soft brown eyes alight, completely at ease with himself and his audience, gesturing expressively his big farmer’s hands, and speaking with spontaneity, obviously making up his comments as he goes along. Since they couldn’t come to see him, he tells the prisoners, he came to see them.
He told them that one of his brothers had been caught poaching; an uncle had done time. “These are the things that happen to poor people,” he said, and then added, “but we are all children of God. And I, John, I am your brother.”
The audience – from priests to politicians, from convicts to jailers – wept openly, and in the film you can see copious tears coursing down hardened faces. Then suddenly a murderer dared approach the pope to ask, “Can there be forgiveness for me?” In answer, the pope just took the murderer in his arms and hugged him, heedless of all danger to his person, let alone his dignity.
What Pope John did that day at the prison reflects what Paul said of Christ in the second reading today:
Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness, and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
Christ strips himself of his glory and dignity so as to enter into the pit of human sinfulness to show those who find themselves in need of God’s mercy that there is indeed no pit so deep that he himself is not deeper still.
No comments:
Post a Comment