IS GOD LIKE WARNER WOLF?
Ezekiel 34: 11-12, 15-17; 1 Corinthians 15:20-26, 28 Matthew 25: 31-46
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“I confess to almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have greatly sinned, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do.”
Let me ask you a question. Don’t worry. I won’t ask for you to raise your hand or shout out an answer. It’s a rhetorical question: What do you think is the greatest sin? Murder? Rape? Abortion? Adultery? Stealing? Pornography? Destroying the reputation of a person? Physical, emotional, psychological, or sexual abuse? All serious sins, right? Very serious. Extremely serious. Mortal Sins. But what’s the worst? The Church lists seven sins as “deadly.” They’re called the Seven Capitol or Cardinal sins: pride, covetousness (also known as avarice or greed), lust, anger, gluttony, envy, and sloth. Is it one of those?
It’s interesting, if you look through the gospels, no one ever posed that question to Jesus. They asked him what the greatest commandment was. And we know he didn’t choose one of the ten. He said, the bottom line is this: Love God above all things, and love your neighbor as you love yourself. Those are the two greatest commandments. But he never addressed which sin was the worst. Or did he?
In our gospel today, we heard the Parable of Final Judgment. In it, Jesus says that those who will enter the kingdom prepared for them by our Heavenly Father are those who both see those who are in need: the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the foreigner, the sick, the imprisoned, AND responds to them. Why? Because they see HIM in THEM. But those who fail to be moved with compassion or who fail to transform their compassion into service to address the need, the want, the hurt, the plight of others are condemned for all eternity. Why? Because in THEM they did not see HIM.
And so it seems, at least it seems to me, that Jesus is saying that as horrible as some of the things we do to others and we do to ourselves can be, the worst sin we can commit is to be blasé, indifferent, insensitive, uncaring, unmoved; to fail to respond to the needs of others. The times when we could have affected a good, could have righted a wrong, could have made a difference, but didn’t. Sins of Omission.
Why are Sins of Omission the greatest sin? Because clearly they violate what Jesus taught were the two greatest commandments. For if we don’t reach out to those who are in need, we do not love our neighbor. If we fail to see the crucified Jesus in THEM, we fail to recognize HIM. And if we fail to recognize Jesus, how can we love Him?
Several Lents ago, in meditating on the passion of Jesus, I wondered what I would have done if I was in Jerusalem 2000 years ago. If I was a member of the Sanhedrin, would I have stood up, risked it all and defended Jesus? Or would I have sat silently as others condemned an innocent man? Would I have been one who shouted for his release outside the Fortress Antonia, or would I have lent my voice to the mob and shouted, “Crucify him?” If I stood along the road as he carried his cross to the place of execution, would I be like the women, compassionate enough to weep for him? Would I be like Veronica, brave enough to do a simple thing, like wipe the spit, sweat and blood from his face, or like Simon of Cyrene, strong enough to lend my brawn to lift the burden of the cross from Jesus’ shoulders if only for a short time? Or would I stand silent on the road and do nothing, or worse: jeer, mock, shout obscenities at this condemned man? Perhaps you’ve wondered the same thing.
As I reflected on this, I hoped I would be one who had enough faith in Jesus and love for Jesus to act with compassion as he endured the agony, the pain, the sense of rejection he experienced. But I shrugged my shoulders that there is no way to really know. But then I realized there is. And here’s the litmus test: how well do I respond to his tortured and crucified self in the person of those who suffer NOW? How well do I respond to his need TODAY? If I meet the needs of those who are suffering today, then I would have responded to Jesus in his need. But if my heart isn’t moved into action today, then plain and simple, it would not have been for Jesus two thousand years ago.
We’re very good, in our country of affluence, at writing out checks, aren’t we? We’re very good at responding to causes. We dig in our pockets and respond financially when we’re asked to contribute to the victims of hurricanes and earthquakes, disease and starvation, illiteracy and indigence. And thank God for that! But what about the times the need goes beyond dollars and cents, and the solution requires our time, or a kind word, or an ear to listen, or getting our hands dirty, or simply being there? What about the times when the need transcends the physical and is rooted in the emotional, the psychological, the social, or the spiritual? What about the times when the one in need isn’t comfortably faraway, but unnervingly close: a friend, a neighbor, a co-worker, a classmate, a member of our own family, the one you’re sitting next to in your pew?
The “Holy Masquerade.” At mass, Jesus wears the disguise of bread and wine. Outside the walls of this church, what is the disguise Jesus is wearing? The one who is hungry for attention? The one who is thirsty for a compliment? The naked one stripped of his reputation because of gossip, false allegations or the “sins” of his or her past? The stranger, the one who is always around but we fail to pay attention to them because they’re quiet, or awkward, deemed a loser, or have a difficult time fitting in? The one who is sick, sick and tired of today being no different than the day before and the day before that, and they live without hope? The imprisoned, the one who is not so much locked in, but locked out: out of our lives, out of our circle of friends because their “different”: different interests, different personality, different economic status, different race, different religion, different ethnicity, different sexual orientation?
Sins of omission. You would think that our government would get it right. You would think that our Church would do better, our diocese, our parish. You would think we would do better. Do we see the needs of others? Do we see the hurt behind forced smiles? Do we hear the cries in wordy silence? Or are we oblivious to it: too busy, too self-centered, too much tunnel vision? Sins of omission.
When we die and stand before God in judgment, what will it be like? Is God like Warner Wolf and will he say, “Let’s go to the video tape?” And if he does, what will we see? A highlights reel of our successes? A blooper reel of our sins? Or will it merely be a blank screen . . . times we should have said the kind, loving or compassionate thing, but the words never found our voice? Times we could have gone out of our way for someone, but the good remained undone? Times we were meant to stand up against a wrong or an injustice, and evil continued to flourish and the wrong was never redressed? “I confess to almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have greatly sinned, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do.” In what I have failed to do. Sins of Omission. That’s what we call them.
God give me ears to hear crying hearts, eyes that recognize poverty of spirit, and legs that stand tall for those who are made to feel small.
