An act of contrition

If you lost it all what would you do? I mean everything: material possessions, a safe place to live, your good reputation, a country with a stable government, no place to worship. That's a tall order and may be difficult to fathom but it is something of what we hear in today's first reading (Daniel 3: 34-43). Surely that faith would be tested if I literally lost it all. Poor unfortunate me. Today's condition for the people of Haiti may be somewhat like what I've described. They had so little to begin with as they are the victims of greed and shortsightedness on the part of their corrupt government leaders. While it is clear that sometimes circumstances beyond our control happen, we do tend to deflect in our daily experience: either God caused this misfortune or it has come about because of other reasons - my own greed, selfishness, and complacency.

In the end, however, I would much rather blame God for my whole catastrophe than blame myself. Our culture today resists personal responsibility. Without passing judgement, was Tiger Woods and other such fallen "angels" sorry because of what they did or sorry because they were caught?

But, there is still hope. After I got over the initial shock of it all and stopped staring into space like a deer in the headlights, I might come to my senses and call upon the one thing I still had that no one can take away - my faith in God. Brought to my knees I may eventually realize that my condition is the natural result of my own myopic view of life - the source of my victim hood. Sometimes we need to be hit over the head with a frying pan to get our attention. It seems this is what the ancient people's needed to face the truth.

The people of Israel in today's reading from Daniel provide a powerful lesson to us when we feel we've lost it all: "For we are reduced, O Lord, beyond any other nation, . . . we have in our day no prince, prophet, or leader, no burnt offering, sacrifice, oblation, or incense, no place to offer first fruit, to find favor with you." Poor unfortunate souls. Let's take up a collection and send it to them. Well, that's one solution but does it really get to the point?

Where Azariah goes is the only and best place for any of us to go: ". . . with contrite hearts and humble spirit let us be received; as though it were burnt offerings of rams and bullocks, or thousands of fat lambs . . ." Liturgical practice in ancient Israel was a very messy business - it was a slaughter house of blood and animal carcasses. But, upon the animal the sins of the nation were placed and the sacrificed life of the animal symbolized what they prayed would be an appeasement to God for their own sins.

Nonetheless, they've lost that opportunity because the nation has been destroyed and they are displaced. So, where to go? To the source of it all - to their own interior spirit; to their contrite hearts and humbled spirits. Animal sacrifice was far easier than that. Remember the term "scapegoat." To get down to basics, to look within myself and admit that I am the problem; that what I've done is the cause of my own misfortune. Not God, not some act of nature, not my parental upbringing nor some discontended neighbor or coworker who wants to see my downfall, but myself in all my splendiferous glory.

But, that is the essence of where we all need to go if we are at all serious about this season and the call to conversion. Some of us may just need a little cleaning of our teeth and others may recognize the need for a root canal! Whatever level we find ourselves at, the call is the same - contrite hearts and humble spirits before God is the greatest of all sacrifices.

So, is it time to do away with sacred worship? Should we close our doors and turn our Churches into museums of empty religious ritual? Wait, wait! If we bring to our worship our contrite hearts and humble spirits and enter into the spirit of our prayers, song, and sacraments with such a dispostion, such is pleasing to the Lord. God cannot and will not refuse such a heart - it appeals to his perfect nature.

The Gospel today (Mt 18:21-35) reminds us of this same truth as Jesus answers the question of Peter about forgiveness: "Lord, if my brother (sister) sins against me, how often must I forgive him/her? As many as seven times?" And here's the clincher from Jesus: "I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times." Ah, so after 77 times I can finally give him/her what they deserve. I'm counting - 78 "I forgive you's" and they get it from me.

Such a number from Jesus' perspective implies infinity. As God is with us, read on in the parable Jesus offers, so must we be with others. Forgiveness without conditions? Today's Gospel does imply a certain measure of justice in our reconciliation but it is probably the most challenging aspect of Christian morality. Forgive our friends and especially our enemies. Easy to say but hard to do as the saying goes. Yet, not impossible because the more we practice forgiveness, or the more we at the very least make the effort, the better we become.