Pardon and Repentance

Pastoral Letter from Bishop Gerald Wiesner, O.M.I., to the Diocese of Prince George for the first Sunday of Lent, March 12, 2000, designated “World Day of Pardon and Repentance”.

As one looks at the very title of the day it can be concluded that two things are happening or are to happen. Pardon indicates that something is happening to us or for us: we are being excused or forgiven. Repentance on the other hand places the emphasis on us – we are to do something, and we are to do something because of what has been done to us. Having been excused or forgiven, we in turn are to change our ways. Key to this change on our part is that we, too, are to excuse or forgive.

A biblical image that I find striking and pertinent portraying this twofold action is the account of the woman taken in adultery as given in John’s Gospel. “Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. Jesus … said to her, ‘Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?’ She said, ‘No one, sir.’ And Jesus said, ‘Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.’” (John 8:9-11).

The woman encounters pardon and repentance : “Neither do I condemn you … from now on do not sin again”.

The pardon she experiences is God’s pardon. What we have expressed for us here is the “boundlessness” of God’s compassionate love and mercy.

It is well for us to stand back and reflect on this boundless love and mercy. To begin we see it in the Lord’s initiative. It is God’s gift. There is nothing the woman does to merit this pardon. She simply stands there, hurting and in need.

God is patient in sharing this pardon. The Lord is not like an eagle, ready to pounce on us at every mistake made. The Prophet Isaiah reminds us, “A bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench” (42:3). Jesus demonstrates this same patience for us in the parable of the barren fig tree. For three years the tree bore no fruit. When it was suggested that it be cut down and not waste the soil, the Master said, “Let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down” (Luke 13:8-9).

This pardon comes from a God who is very sensitive. Jesus demonstrates this for us beautifully with taken in adultery. The scribes and the Pharisees are rough with her, even brutal. She has sinned. Jesus is to choose between this person and the law. Jesus remains with her; he knows her pain. While he does not condone her sinfulness, Jesus does reveal to her that she is a person of value, with human dignity, and loved by God. Because she experiences this sensitive pardon she is able to go and live with new life. Her experience enables her to be repentant.

The Psalmist invites us to ponder God’s sensitivity in our regard: “The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love … As father has compassion for his children, so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him. For he knows how we were made; he remembers that we are dust” (103:8,13,14).

Life teaches us that there is a quality of “toughness” in the Lord’s pardon. The Lord’s pardon possesses a definite resiliency. God is able to withstand and endure our sinfulness. It is the prophet Hosea who leads us to ponder this reality: “The more I called them, the more they went from me … My people are bent on turning away from me … How can I give you up? … How can I hand you over? … My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce anger … for I am God and no mortal, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath” (11:2,7-9).

It is clear in the Gospel scene that God’s pardon absorbs the evil; annihilates it. When the Lord pardons, there is a new beginning, a new birth. The Lord’s own words, in the mouth of the prophet Isaiah, portrays this in a striking manner: “Come now, let us argue it out, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool” (1:18).

Standing before this monument of divine pardon does two things to us. To begin, it brings us to our knees in gratitude. St. Augustine said: “God works miracles because we fail to see the miracles God is constantly working around us”. One of these constant miracles is God’s pardon.

The second thing this monument of divine pardon leads us to is repentance. Repentance implies: turning from sin, resolving to reform one’s life, manifesting sorrow and regret, changing one’s ways. Jesus said to the woman, “Go your way, and from now on do not sin again”.

Experience teaches us that on our own we are not able to avoid sin. With God’s grace it is possible. It is correct to say that it is mostly with God’s grace that we are able to avoid sin. “Mostly with God’s grace” because we too are expected to contribute. Our contribution may not be very much, nevertheless contribute we must. Again, it was St. Augustine who said: “The God who made us without us will not save us without us”.

Another word that can be used for repentance is conversion. Conversion is a turning around, an about face. Pope Paul VI spoke of conversion as “transforming from within and making new”. In religious terms it is the surrender of oneself to an all-loving God who calls us to the fullness of life. It is God asking us to give what we thought we could not give; to live what we thought we could not live.

Being sent on our way not to sin again involves, to a great extent, pardoning as we have been pardoned. A cursory examination of Jesus’ teaching makes absolutely clear that essential to our life of repentance is our love for (pardoning of) our sisters and brothers. “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another” (John 13:34).

When we look at the ten commandments, commandments which lead to life, it is interesting to note that three of them deal with our relationship with God, the other seven deal with our relationship with God through our brothers and sisters. When Jesus describes the final judgement he insists, “Truly, I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40).

One of the most dramatic Gospel scenes of Jesus pardoning is the washing of the disciples’ feet. “So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet” (ref?). In the hymn for Morning Prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours we pray: “Your love is at the heart of all creation, Your hurt is people’s broken brotherhood”. God’s hurt is people’s broken brotherhood. God’s hurt is our failure to wash one another’s feet.

It is very interesting to note that where the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) record the institution of the Eucharist at the Lord’’ Supper, the Gospel of John has the washing of the feet. What the Gospel of John is telling us is that the Eucharist is a service the Lord renders, a service that find its true meaning in the washing of feet. It is well for us – it is necessary for us – to reflect on how readily we approach the Lord’s table and how reluctantly we wash feet.

When, in response to their request, Jesus taught the disciples how to pray we notice that only one petition in that solemn teaching has a condition attached: “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors”. What is interesting to note is that Jesus found it necessary to explain further only one petition of that prayer. It is almost as if Jesus is saying, “By the way, if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses” (Matthew 6:12 & 14).

This teaching on the absolute need to pardon is again emphasized by Jesus: “So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift (Matthew 5:23-24).

It has been said that the shortest distance between a person and the truth is a story. This little story leads us deeply into the reality of pardon and repentance.

    A girl in the fishing village became an unwed mother and after several beatings finally revealed who the father of the child was: the Zen master living on the outskirts of the village.The villagers trooped into the master’s house, rudely disturbed his meditation, denounced him as a hypocrite, and told him to keep the baby. All the master said was, “Very well. Very well.”

    He picked the baby up and made arrangements for a woman from the village to feed and clothe and look after it at his expense.

    The master’s name was ruined and his disciples all abandoned him.

    When this had gone on for a year, the girl who had borne the child could stand it no longer and finally confessed that she had lied. The father of the child was a boy next door.

    The villagers were most contrite. They prostrated themselves at the feet of the master to beg his pardon and to ask for the child back. The master returned the child. And all he said was, “Very well. Very well.”

    From The Song of the Bird by Anthony de Mello

“‘Has no one condemned you?’ ‘No one, sir.” And Jesus said, ‘Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.’”

In granting pardon our Lord simply says to us: “Very well! Very well!” In living repentance we are to say to others: “Very well! Very well!”