When I was first learning about the faith, there was one portion of Mass that I found deeply affecting. Unlike the realization that I was in the bodily presence of Christ — which took some time to fully comprehend — there was a portion that I quickly realized took incredible self-reflection and, frankly, bravery . . . at least, it seemed like it should. And it ties into today’s readings.
In today’s Gospel selection from Luke, Jesus compares the return of the Son of Man — and the end times — with a thief breaking into a house. It’s a bold metaphor, I suspect chosen specifically because it would shake up his listeners. When Peter asks, “Lord, is this parable meant for us or for everyone?” Jesus doesn’t answer directly, but responds with another parable, noting that more is expected of those with leadership and responsibility, because more has been entrusted to us. I think it’s fairly clear that, as followers of Christ, we’ve been entrusted with a great deal of responsibility: spreading the Word and making sure people are ready for the coming of the Kingdom!
So, Christ’s teachings for today are specifically about telling folks to ensure their affairs are in order. In the same way that a homeowner would have ensured vigilance if the exact time of a burglar’s arrival was known, or servants would be punished if the master arrived and the servants were unprepared, all of us are expected to have our spiritual affairs in order, since we don’t know the exact time we’ll need those affairs to be in order.
This is applicable in the daily lives of the faithful (and non-faithful!) in two ways: the hour of the return of Christ (that is, the end times) and our own personal end (that is, our deaths). After all, if our spiritual affairs aren’t in order when we die, we’ve only got two possibilities — purgatory or hell; one of those is a deeply imperfect realization of the promises of Christ, and the other is REALLY bad news!
How does that tie into Mass? Well, early on in every weekly service, we all gather together for a Penitential Act and are invited to reflect on our sins, and — in so doing — have our minor transgressions absolved. But we’re supposed to actually reflect on those transgressions and think about how we’ve fallen short in God’s expectations for us and our expectations for ourselves. Often, we confess those sins communally, through the Confiteor prayer: “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 . . .” We say this prayer together. The best priests I’ve had put a significant pause before the prayer — so we can begin to call to mind our failings and sins — and after the first “I” of the Confiteor, so that we’re forced to have the word “confess” on our lips. (It’s not just the priest confessing his sins; it’s us!)
Like most humans, I’ve made a lot of mistakes begin life. I’ve tried to own up to them as quickly and efficiently as I can. But there’s a big difference between making a private apology to my wife about some slight I’ve given her, and getting up in front of the entire Church and saying, “Hey, I ignored the garbage until my wife was forced to take it out . . . again!” in front of the entire congregation. While I’m not doing that literally, obviously, if Mass is working as it should be, I do have those minor sins and transgressions on my mind and in my heart, so that when I say “I confess” in front of the whole congregation, I actually mean it.
Today’s reading from the Letter to the Romans warns about the dangers of moral corruption: “Sin must not reign over your mortal bodies so that you obey their desires,” it begins. The deliberate reflection during the Penitential Act can be a constant way to help ensure our spiritual affairs are in order, as Christ taught. It’s not the be-all and end-all of that task, of course; serious offenses need to be absolved through the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and we should be doing everything in our power to live our lives as close to Christ as we can the rest of the week.
When I came into the faith, I recognized how much bravery it took to really, really think about all I have done, and all I have failed to do, and to confess with my full mind and self those failings in front of my family, friends, and the rest of the congregation. As I’ve grown older in the Church, I fear that many people don’t treat the Penitential Act during Mass with the same earnestness I did when I was finding the faith, instead considering it as another set of half-mumbled words stumbled through while trying to remember what the next part of Mass is. And I’ve no doubt slipped in my appreciation of that powerful portion of Mass myself.
But Christ calls us to be ever vigilant against the forces of sin, because we don’t know specifically when there will be a final accounting of those sins. And one small but significant way to help build our discipline is to take the Penitential Act during Mass seriously. If you haven’t been acting that way, the next Mass you attend is a great time to do so: really, really reflect on how you’ve fallen short in the eyes of God, and have those failings on your mind as you confess in front of everyone. Living honestly and earnestly in the eyes of God is one of the bravest things you can do, and it’s something Christ implores us to do every moment of our lives . . . before it’s too late.
Today’s readings: Rom 6:12-18; Ps 124:1B-3,4-6,7-8; Lk 12:39-4
