The Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
I live by faith in the Son of God
who has loved me and given himself up for me.
Today’s readings and Gospel give us the full bore reality of sin —“ and the answer to sin.
In our first reading the prophet Nathan confronts David with God’s words.
‘I anointed you king of Israel.
I rescued you from the hand of Saul.
I gave you your lord’s house and your lord’s wives for your own.
I gave you the house of Israel and of Judah.
And if this were not enough, I could count up for you still more.
Why have you spurned the Lord and done evil in his sight?
In a deadly concoction of sin, a mixture of lust, jealousy, envy, desire, and corruption David had one of his finest soldiers, Uriah, a humble and righteous man, killed, so that he could take Uriah’s wife as his own. He had already committed adultery, she was pregnant by him, and then he killed her husband. David killed, and the Lord’s anger flared up.
What should David have done? What could David have done to make amends?
Nothing really.
David simply said:
—I have sinned against the LORD.—
To which the prophet of the Lord replied:
—The LORD on his part has forgiven your sin:
you shall not die.—
That, my friends, is trust beyond reason and a love beyond telling.
Jesus visits the house of the Pharisee and dines there.
Now there was a sinful woman in the city
who learned that he was at table in the house of the Pharisee.
Bringing an alabaster flask of ointment,
she stood behind him at his feet weeping
and began to bathe his feet with her tears.
Then she wiped them with her hair,
kissed them, and anointed them with the ointment.
She didn’t say anything. She spoke through her actions and her tears.
Later Jesus would say:
—Your faith has saved you; go in peace.—
She had faith, but faith in what? Faith in a prophet? No prophet could forgive sins.
The guests pointed that one out.
The others at table said to themselves,
—Who is this who even forgives sins?—
To the Jewish people the forgiveness of sins required actions. A blood sacrifice in the Temple was necessary. Even with that sacrifice, forgiveness wasn’t a spoken commodity. Only God could forgive, only God knew.
No, the woman had faith, faith and blind trust, like David’s blind trust. She knew that Jesus, who reclined at table, whose feet she bathed and anointed, was God. He who could forgive sins.
You heard the readings and the Gospel. After a joyous Easter season, and the three great post Easter Sundays celebrating the Holy Ghost, the Holy Trinity, and the Body and Blood of our Lord, it’s all a downer. It’s all about sin.
Brothers and sisters,
David didn’t think so, the sinful woman didn’t think so, and Mary, called Magdalene, out of whom seven demons were cast didn’t think so.
David saw, the woman saw, Mary saw. They all saw the great light. Each of them trusted beyond reason, and received love beyond telling. The light of God’s all encompassing love, the richness of His forgiveness.
There is really nothing we can do, other than in our expression of faith. Faith that saves us from sin.
Paul spoke of salvation though works alone, which is impossible. He pointed out that that was the faith of the old Israel.
Each of us lives the full bore reality of sin. In the small things and in the big things we do. We are David, and the sinful woman. All we can say is: —I have sinned against the LORD.—
The answer, as Paul rightly points out, is our faith. Faith that bears fruit in our repentance, and through the works we accomplish by faith.
Very good exegesis. My only comment would be to expand somewhat on a point you made near the end: “Paul spoke of salvation though works alone, which is impossible. He pointed out that that was the faith of the old Israel.”
It isn’t that the Covenant God made with Israel actually provided that we were saved by works; I would argue that the Old Covenant presupposed the priority of grace as well, and of course anticipated the new covenant. But the Jewish people in Paul’s time did need to be told that our being made righteous is not through the “works of law,” but through faith. I.e., they were prone to focus on the works — and guess what? So are we! I tend to think that all of us are prone to at least some Pelagianism. You might — or, rather I might! — say it comes with original sin; i.e., our first parents would have done better to trust God, as opposed to thinking they could do it “on their own.”
Father,
Thank you. I get very few comments on my homilies, and anything a person responds to is meaningful to me, either as a point of learning or one of developed debate. As such, your commentary is meaningful in its insight and care.
The funny thing … or maybe the unfunny thing … about this homily is that it lends itself easily to the whole faith/works debate.
I agree. The prophets continued to testify to the fact that God was looking for a change of heart, not bullocks. Old Israel needed to have faith, and that’s why they missed the point eventually.
I was pondering the homily on my way home from church (an odd time to think about what I was saying). My thoughts turned to my process.
While I post my homilies, and while the Spirit will do what He wills with the words (even on the Internet), they are particular to the faith community for which they are written.
That’s why each one is written from scratch and I avoid borrowing at all costs. Perhaps I borrow inspirations, but not texts.
The other thing I thought about was the how these homilies express faith, while the balance of the stuff on the blog may veer off in a thousand other directions, and unfortunately, sometimes, quite far from the faith.
If only my life could reflect the totality of the Holy Spirit’s inspiration, in faith and works.
This is a very difficult subject, it seems, to encapsulize in relatively brief remarks. Since Catholic preaching tends to be relatively briefer — around 10 minutes on Sunday, vs. 30 minutes plus for so many Protestants — it’s not surprising Catholic preachers don’t often address it.
Also, this subject, while important, is not central to Catholic belief, while it is, by definition, for most Protestantism.
That said, it merits some discussion, and the subject interests me particularly.
I see your interest as addressed in your homily as well.
Does some of that background come from your personal faith journey?
I guess I skirted around the issue a little.
One of our visitors, who has some theological background, appreciated the fact that my homily addressed sin and that the solution to sin isn’t avoidance, or relegating sin to non-existence, but rather faith in God’s foregivness.
Deacon:
Yes, certainly my interest in justification relates to my own, personal, “ecumenical” journey! Not that justification by faith figured so much in my actual experience as a Protestant, but to the extent I was influenced, for a time, by the, “Catholicism is about salvation by works” argument.