Sunday, June 12, 2016

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

Luke 7:36 – 8:3
In the first reading, the prophet Nathan confronts King David with the fact that the Lord was exceedingly generous towards him, and yet he committed terrible sins: first, adultery with the wife of one of his loyal soldiers; then murder to cover up the first sin. David admits to his sin, and immediately Nathan assures him that even though there will be consequences, namely, that the sword will not depart from his house, and later, that the child of this union will die, God has already forgiven David's sin. And then we hear Paul assuring us that if justification comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing; in other words, we are not forgiven because of the works we do, but because of faith in Christ Jesus.
And then in what seems to be a turn-around, Jesus tells Simon that because this woman has loved much, her sins are forgiven. Jesus seems to be saying that because of her works, she is forgiven, not because of faith. He even compares the love Simon showed with that of the woman, adding to the idea that the more you do, the more you will be forgiven. To confuse matters further, Jesus dismisses the woman by saying “Your faith has saved you, now go in peace.”
Perhaps one of the biggest controversies in Christianity has to do with how we are justified, or forgiven, or saved – however you want to put it. Even in the New Testament there is controversy; much of the Epistle of James seems to have been written to clarify what Paul wrote in Romans. Paul says this: “If Abraham was justified by God for the things he did, he would have reason to boast; but … the scripture says :Abraham believed God, and because of his faith God accepted him as righteous.” But James says, “How was Abraham put right with God? It was when he offered his son Isaac on the altar... You see then it is by his actions that a person is put right with God, not by faith alone.”
And there are other passages on both sides of the issue: Jesus says we are to have faith in the son of man, but in the Gospel of Matthew those who have done good works even not knowing they have been doing them for the Master are justified.
Controversy over how we are saved caused the Protestant reformation. It's interesting that Martin Luther did everything he could to assure himself of salvation, until he had a near nervous breakdown. Afterward he found evidence in scripture that faith in Jesus is all you need; nothing you can do will change that. And Saint Francis de Sales, a few years later, went through the same kind of crisis, but in his case he responded by by becoming a priest, later a bishop, and spending his life doing good works.
To be fair, the Catholic church always taught that faith was necessary for salvation. There are too many verses in scripture, even in James, that make that point. But the issue is really what is meant by the word “Faith”. In Latin there are two terms, Ascentia and Fiducia. Ascentia means that I believe something – for example, I believe that Jesus lived on the earth 2000 years ago and founded a church. You could probably find a lot of people who aren't Christians who could agree with that statement. But Fiducia implies not only belief but also trust, as in “I believe Jesus is my Lord and Savior.” Implied in Fiducia is action.
There are some Protestants who would insist that all you have to do is acknowledge Jesus as your Lord and Savior and you will be saved. And there are, unfortunately, some Catholics who believe the more rosaries you say, the more masses you attend, the more you avail yourself of the sacrament of Penance, the more likely you will be saved. I remember reading about an exchange between a reporter and a man who was very active in his parish and a daily communicant. The reporter said, “You must really love the Lord!” and the man replied, “I don't know about that, but I'm making sure He'll have no excuse to keep me out of heaven.”
I think, though that the majority of Christians – Catholics, Protestants, Orthodox – would agree that a person who claims to be a Christian who does not act like one is not one, regardless of what he says. So you are all saying, “Well and good, but what does that have to do with me?” And I think that's where we all can learn something from this story from the life of Jesus. I identify with Simon; I try to lead a good life and stay out of trouble and do what I need to do to stay on God's good side. But compared to the woman weeping at Jesus feet, I love little. If Jesus needed a meal I'd be happy to make him a sandwhich, even have him over for supper. She on the other hand is demonstrating her love by giving everything – symbolized by the alabaster flask full of precious ointment – symbolized by using her own hair and tears to wash His feet; symbolized by publically weeping over her sins. She loves much.
Recently a young woman of my acquaintance, a successful editor in a Catholic publishing house, joined an order of sisters. She sold her car, donated her clothing, closed her facebook account, got rid of her cell phone, and changed her name. That is loving much.
The twelfth step in Alcoholics Anonymous is an interesting one. It says, “Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics and to practice these principles in all our affairs.” It is a recognition that real faith implies putting ourselves out, doing something about what we believe, otherwise, it dies.
So this is a good day to ask the question, how much do I love? Like Simon? Or like the woman?”