Second Sunday of Lent 2019
One of the great themes of Christian literature, both in and out of the Scriptures, is the need for each of us to make a deliberate choice between the Two Ways of living. There is the way of life and the way of death, the way of following God’s will and law, or the way of disobedience. St. Paul tells the church at Philippi that they should imitate Paul, who preaches Christ’s cross, and reject the enemies of the cross, whose only thoughts are of their own pleasure and advancement.
As St. Augustine taught us, our hearts are restless because they were made for union with God, and they cannot find rest until they rest in God. We just heard that our citizenship is not of the United States, or Mexico, or any other nation. Our citizenship is in heaven. Our home is where our Father is, our Redeemer-brother, Jesus, our spiritual mother, Mary. On our happiest day here on earth–maybe our wedding day, or our graduation day, or the day our first child was born–our most joy-filled day on earth is as nothing compared to the experience of the Beatific Vision, which is really an eternal embrace in the Blessed Trinity. Therefore we owe our total allegiance to the Universal King, Christ our Lord. That is the Truth. Jesus Christ is the Truth.
I believe that in every human life, there is a moment, or a series of moments, of decision. Peter, James and John went up the mountain with Jesus, because they wanted to be with Him as He prayed. They got way more than they bargained for–they got a revelation of what it meant for Jesus, their Messiah, to pray. Moses and Elijah and the Son and the Father, and by extension the Holy Spirit, were there. And they were in glory. But what was the prayer, the conversation, about? Christ’s Exodus in Jerusalem. Luke alone records this detail from the prayer, and I think he got it from John.
The Greek word “Exodon” has more than one meaning. We hear “exodus” in Lent and we think of Moses, who is here on the mountain with Jesus, and his leading the people of Israel out of Egyptian bondage, through the sea into the desert. We may also think of our catechumens and candidates who on Holy Saturday will receive the sacraments of initiation and begin a new life as Catholic Christians. They, too, are being led out of bondage to their past and are taking up the white robes of the liberated.
But “exodus” has the root meaning of “departure,” and here we think of Elijah, the prophet who more than any other OT saint signifies the embrace of the One Way of faith and obedience. We remember the scene on another mountain–Carmel–where he alone stood for the True God against the hundreds of prophets of Baal. They danced around and prayed all day to their silent deity to send fire down on their sacrifice. They cut themselves and probably took drugs to achieve an ecstatic state, even as Elijah mocked them for trying to wake up a sleepy god. Nothing happened because, as the writer tells it, nobody was listening. But then Elijah erected his altar and spread out his sacrifice, even drenching it with water so nobody could accuse him of trickery. And a simple prayer brought down a fire from God that obliterated the sacrifice, wood and altar, and led to a great victory. Peter, James and John would, when they heard Elijah speak of departure, think of another scene, when Elijah’s departure from earth was in a chariot of fire.
The Exodus of Our Lord, which we commemorate in the Triduum just four weeks away, was also the summit of a prophet’s life lived for others. But the blood spilled in His Exodus was not that of a bull or goat, but His own Precious Blood. The water that flowed was not the torrent of the Red Sea or the flood of the River Jordan, but the water that surrounded His Sacred Heart. The sacred meal of Christ’s Exodus was not a partaking of a year-old lamb, but of the very Body and Blood of our Savior. He died and rose again, and became the very Life we share sacramentally, so that we can claim to be citizens of heaven, looking forward to our own exodus, our own death and resurrection into eternal union with God.
So what should we do in response to this precious gift of life? How must we live? The answer to that question can be found in Paul’s letter to the church at Corinth, the first letter. Paul gives us his awesome “take” on the Two Ways. The way of life, for St. Paul, is the way of charity, of love for God and for neighbor. He gives us these contrasts: “Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” Now for most of these attributes, we can say, “yeah, I ought to avoid the one and embrace the other.” But just who in the world “rejoices at wrong”?
Recently it was revealed that a political figure appeared in a yearbook wearing blackface. Another as a teenager ruminated in writing about running over children with an automobile. A campaign chairman for another politician was sentenced to several years in prison for an unrelated felony. Some of you on either side may have done a little rejoicing over their discomfort. Isn’t that what the Germans call “schadenfreude”? It’s the act of feeling good when somebody we don’t care for is caught in evildoing, or when somebody who has done something to us gets his “comeuppance.” Haven’t we all felt that way sometimes? We ask, shouldn’t bad things happen to bad people? The OT is full of references to Israelites either wishing bad things on their many enemies, or rejoicing when one of those hostile kingdoms got bashed by another one. Check out what a psalmist in exile had to say about the enemy kingdoms of Edom and Babylon in psalm 137. It’s so bloodthirsty that the Church’s office book doesn’t print those last lines any more. So, yes, there is rejoicing at bad things, even among Christians. But St. Paul cautions us against that, and for good reason.
First, the Scriptures, in both the book of Job and in Psalm 25, separate out the “sins of youth” as deserving special mercy. That’s prescient. We now know that the part of the brain that makes decisions, our morality equipment, doesn’t work very well in adolescence. But those of us who have raised adolescents, or taught them for any time, know that from experience without a million dollar research grant. So the psalmist prays to God “do not remember the sins of my youth.” I think just as a matter of justice if someone has done something once in their youth, repented and learned a lesson and hasn’t done it again, we should forgive and move forward, even with politicians. It’s the ones who fantasize about running over kids, or disrespecting people of a different race as young folks, and then support the murder of children before or after they are born that need to be feared and vigorously opposed.
Second, the worst thing that can happen to a person is to suffer the loss of his eternal soul in hell. So imagine the worst person you know. And here’s the critical question. If that person died and suffered the loss of union with God, if he or she burned in hell for all eternity, would you be any better off? Would anyone. We could ask with the saints, does that bring glory to God? Suffering in hell may reveal God’s justice to some, but it does no good for anyone. It is just bad, bad, bad. It’s tragic in the worst sense, because it does nothing good. Sin, and the effects of sin, are bad news, especially in light of the reality that Jesus’s sacrifice enables the forgiveness of any sin.
Let me give you an example. Hugh Marston Hefner was one of the best known pornographers of the twentieth century. I researched and wrote about his life and felt like taking a shower every time I worked on the project. He ruined the lives of most of the men and many of the women of our generation. But after finishing the project, I felt mostly pity for him along with the scorn and disgust. So when I would think about him, I would pray for his conversion and repentance.
That, I believe, is the perfect antidote to schadenfreude. Yes, there is evil in the world, some of it committed by you and me. Those who do evil, grave evil, fully understood, fully willed, are committing a deadly sin. Unrepented, those sins can lead to eternal perdition. But when we become aware of them, of those who commit them, Jesus Christ is the obvious and only answer. Seeking His forgiveness is the only path to safety. So if the sin is yours, turn away from it and believe the good news that you can be forgiven. Seek to confess and be absolved. If it is the doing of another person and you have any influence, help him or her turn from that path. If you have no entry point, ask God to give them the grace of repentance. Like many sins, schadenfreude feels good for a moment, but isn’t good for anybody. The way of life and happiness is to follow the example of Paul, the teaching of Jesus. Pray for those who do evil and for goodness sake , stop voting for them.
