As
a young woman around 1950, the American author Flannery O’Connor (1925-1964)
was dragged along to a dinner party full of VIPs. Knowing of Flannery’s Catholic faith, the hostess began to
carry on about how she was raised Catholic, too, and how as a child she came up
with her own personal notions concerning Holy Communion, and how now, as an
enlightened adult, she realized it was just a symbol—but a pretty good one. To
which Flannery simply replied, “Well, if it’s a symbol, to hell with it.” Flannery
would later write that this defense “is all I will ever be able to say about it…,
except that it is the center of existence
for me; all the rest of life is expendable.”
My opening story this Sunday may not have a punch line…
“I am the living bread that came down from heaven,” Jesus said.
Ninteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time B
The Precepts of the Church
Part III
My opening story this Sunday may not have a punch line…
…but
it does pack a punch.
Voltaire
was a French thinker and writer of the 18th century
who
laid much of the groundwork for the French Revolution.
He
was immensely popular, and immensely influential,
especially
among the intellectually elite.
he
regularly mocked almost all religion as ridiculous,
and
was especially critical of the Catholic Church.
A
young man, who wanted to be a “free thinker” like him,
sent
Voltaire a letter asking for advice.
You
see, the young man had been raised a devout Catholic—
and
that was his problem.
No
matter how hard he tried,
he just
couldn’t shake his childhood faith
in
the real presence of Jesus—Body, Blood, soul, and divinity—
in
the Eucharist.
What
should he do?
Voltaire’s
advice was simple.
He
told the young man to receive Communion as often as possible.
But
before going to Communion,
he
told the young man to avoid going to Confession
and
instead to go out and commit as many mortal sins as he could.
If
he would just do these things, Voltaire counseled,
soon
enough he would curse God, despise the Church,
and
renounce his faith.
Which is what the young man did.
Which is what the young man did.
Four
months later, he was a convinced atheist.
In
my first homily of this series on the Precepts of the Church,
I
spoke about the precept:
4.
To receive Holy Communion at least once a
year,
during
the Easter season
(In
fact, I mentioned that precept last week, too.)
But
that precept concerning Holy Communion
is one
half of a pair
along
with the precept that says:
3.
To confess your sins at least once a year
Although
certainly no friend of the Church,
Voltaire
recognized the intimate connection
between
Confession and Communion—
something
that seems largely lost
even
among practicing Catholics today.
In
Voltaire’s day, the lines outside the confessional were long…
…but
those heading toward the Communion rail were shorter;
nowadays,
there aren’t too many who come for Confession…
…but
nearly everybody comes forward to receive.
That
could simply be because we’re much holier these days
than
people were in times past…
…but
I don’t think there’s sufficient evidence to bear that out.
So—why
such a dramatic shift?
For
one thing, we’ve lost much of our sense of sin.
A
quick look at the news lately will verify that.
So
many loud calls for the full weight of the law
to
be brought down on a man
who
illegally hunts and kills a much beloved lion in Africa!
And
yet the steady stream of stomach-churning reports
about
the buying and selling of defenseless unborn children
in
the name of “reproductive rights” and “medical research”
elicits
a comparatively weak response:
“Well,
it is legal in this country…
…and
who am I to impose my beliefs on somebody else?”
These
ongoing revelations concerning the horrific reality of abortion
are
an extreme example of the disordered human desire
to
“have our cake and eat it, too.”
We
don’t want to take responsibility for our sinful actions—
or
our sinful lack of action—
so
we seek to eliminate the unfortunate consequences
(at
least from view).
But
this denial of sin is nothing new;
it
goes all the way back to Adam and Eve—
the
first who sought to do what uniquely belongs to God:
to
determine right and wrong for themselves.
We’ve
not only lost a sense of sin;
we’ve
also lost our sense
of
the all-surpassing holiness of the Eucharist.
Survey
after survey tells us
that
an increasing number of American Catholics do not believe
in
the real presence of Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament
(which
might explain, in part,
why
so many don’t regularly come to Mass).
Yet
even without a survey,
it
can be seen in the very casual way
a
lot of people approach the altar and handle the Sacred Host,
and in the way so few genuflect when entering or leaving the church.
Neither
is this anything new.
We’ve
just heard the crowds murmur,
“How
can this mere man (we know his parents, after all)
tell
us he’s come down from heaven?”
And
next Sunday we’ll hear them continue,
“How
can this man claim to give us his own flesh to eat?”
Even
though he didn’t believe in them himself,
Voltaire’s
advice acknowledged that there’s a strong link
between
going to Confession and receiving Holy Communion—
in
recognizing sin as sin,
and
in recognizing the Eucharistic presence of the Christ.
If
we want to save our souls—if we want to save the world—
then
we need to get them both back.
It’s
the Church’s consistent, longstanding teaching
that
anyone aware of having committed a mortal sin
must
not receive Holy Communion—
no
matter how sorry they feel—
without
first receiving sacramental absolution,
unless
there’s some grave reason for going to Communion
and
no possibility of going to Confession.
St.
Paul himself wrote that “whoever eats the bread
or
drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily
will
have to answer for the body and blood of the Lord” (1 Cor 11:27).
It’s
our mortal sins
that
we’re required to confess at least once each year,
in
order that we’ll be properly disposed
to
receive Holy Communion at least once each year.
(And
while not strictly necessary,
Confession
of our venial sins—of our everyday faults—
is
highly encouraged, too, as a way to grow in virtue,
fight
our evil tendencies, and progress in the spiritual life.)
If
it’s our mortal sins we must confess,
then
we need to know what mortal sin is.
For
a sin to be mortal, (1) it must be serious in nature,
(2)
we must know that it’s wrong,
and
(3) we must deliberately consent to do it.
(You
can’t sin by accident!)
That
a sin is “mortal” means that it’s deadly to the soul.
Mortal
sin doesn’t only exclude us from the Sacraments on earth;
it
kills our hope of heaven.
That’s
because it doesn’t just wound our friendship with God;
it
breaks it right off.
So,
what things specifically are mortal
sins?
This
homily will be long enough without listing them all!
But
they include:
—
missing Sunday Mass;
— putting
your trust in superstition or the occult;
— blasphemy
or denying your faith;
— serious
neglect in caring for one’s parents
or
one’s children (including their religious upbringing);
— abortion
(whether procuring it or promoting it);
— using
illegal drugs or driving under the influence;
— stealing
or destroying someone else’s valuable property;
— denying
assistance to the poor that you could easily provide;
— serious
gossip, false witness, or perjury;
—
viewing pornography and masturbation;
— using
contraception;
— being
sexually involved with someone
the
Church doesn’t acknowledge to be your spouse.
You
know, every once in awhile,
an actual
angel comes to me for Confession. It’s
true!
I
know this, not because there’s a flutter of wings behind the screen,
but
because I hear a voice say,
“Father,
I haven’t done anything wrong.”
(That’s
when I want to add, “But...didn’t you just tell a lie?”)
And
every once in awhile, the devil comes to Confession, too.
I
know this because I hear a voice say,
“If
it’s a sin, Father, I’ve done it!”
(Usually
if I ask about murder or car jacking,
they
modify their original claim.)
If
you’re going to make a good Confession,
then
you need to start carefully examining your conscience
well before you begin to confess.
well before you begin to confess.
(And
if you’re not sure how,
there
are plenty of guides to help you.
Just ask!)
That
way, when we come to confess,
we can
do so with openness and integrity.
There’s
no need to use any coy turns of phrase.
You
might fool the priest, and you might even fool yourself,
but
you’ll never fool God.
It
may be more difficult, but it’s much more liberating
to
call a spade a spade.
If
you want the Doctor to really heal you,
then
you need to tell him all your symptoms
and
show him all your wounds.
Don’t
fear for judgment or condemnation in the confessional.
In
his infinite wisdom, Christ arranged this Sacrament
such
that it’s one sinner talking to another.
I
go to Confession every two weeks or so—
sometimes,
more frequently than that.
It’s
not exactly easy for me
to
kneel before a colleague—a brother priest—
and
bear all the dark recesses of my soul.
No,
it’s not easy—but I know it’s essential.
We
priests understand.
And Confession presupposes
that
you have sorrow for your sins—“contrition”:
not
only the movement of your lips, but the movement of your heart.
True
sorrow for your sins means you’ll also have
a
“firm purpose of amendment”:
a
commitment that, with the help of God’s grace,
you’ll
do your very best to avoid committing these sins again.
To
do otherwise—to just go through the motions,
to
have no real plans to change your ways—
would
be a mockery of the Sacrament,
and
even a mockery of God himself.
Discouragement—like
we see in the prophet Elijah—
is
the great danger in all of this.
If
the devil can get us down,
it’s
so much easier for him to keep us there.
But
recognizing and confessing our sins
isn’t
supposed to be primarily about
the
evils we’ve done or what the Church stands against;
it’s
actually an affirmation of God’s boundless goodness and mercy,
which
we were made to experience in the first place.
Yes,
we need to remove
all
bitterness, anger, and malice from our midst,
but
that’s so we can make room for kindness, compassion,
and
forgiveness toward one another
as
we’ve been forgiven in Christ.
“I am the living bread that came down from heaven,” Jesus said.
“Whoever
eats this bread will live forever;
and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.”
and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.”
May
we never allow any death-dealing sin
to keep us away from the Bread of Life.
to keep us away from the Bread of Life.
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