Homily Notes: 1 Lent (A) An antidote to the dispossession of sin.

    Lent is a time to get back down to basics, and the Church takes us back--all the way back--to the beginning of the human experience.  In Genesis, chapters 2 and 3, we hear of the "second" creation story, where man was formed from the clay of the ground and God infused this little bit of matter, subject to the laws of the universe, with the gift of life and an eternal soul.  Placed in the garden, the man and woman were to be keepers of the garden, living in a state of simple, uncomplicated grace.  The only rule decreed from God was that they were to stay away from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

   The reading from Genesis proclaimed at Mass omits the important verse (Genesis 2:25), that explains that "the man and his wife were both naked, yet they felt no shame".  We see that merely seven verses later (Genesis 3:7), after the encounter with the snake and the transgression of God's law, that "...the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves".  The reading ends there, but in the very next verses (Genesis 3:8-9), that the man and woman then 'hid' themselves from the Lord God among the trees of the garden, out of fear.  Pope John Paul II points out in his teachings, collectively known as the Theology of the Body, that the contrast presented here is a 'threshold experience' [11.6].  The contrast being highlighted is what was lost--original innocence--and what flows from sin--shame.  From this flows the experience of dispossession and alienation.

   In shame, the original humans became dispossessed of themselves and alienated from

one another and from God. In sin, they do not know who they are before God.  Is God now a vengeful enemy to be feared or battled?  An arbitrary rule maker?  One to be appeased through flattery and groveling?   Is he a competitor against human freedom, decreeing law simply to keep him down? Classically, the Church explains that through the sin of Adam, human intellects were darkened and human will to do good was weakened.  We all, to one degree or another, suffer profound confusion between what is right and wrong.  Further we come to fail in the wise discernment of the things of this earth, often coming to desire lesser goods over greater goods.  Our wills are weakened in the courage of doing what is right--we find ourselves desiring things that are not necessarily good for us, and we pursue them even to our destruction.  Consider the substance-abusing addict.  Their lives are enslaved to the next 'hit', even though the lifestyle incurs great loss and misery... perhaps even death.   We have a sense of this struggle throughout the Catholic tradition, even and perhaps sometimes especially among the greatest saints.  I'm reminded of St. Paul in Romans (7:15ff), who remarks, "I do not understand what I do, for I what I want to do, I do not do, but what I hate, I do...  As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but sin living in me.  For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature.  For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out."   I am also reminded of St. Augustine in his famous remark from Confessions, "Oh Master, make me chaste and continent, but not yet."  These two saints as well as the insights of many others show how profound dispossession of self is--even in those seeking holiness--because of the effects of sin in the world.

   Paul offers a clue pointing to God's antidote to the experience of human alienation.  In today's reading from Romans (5: 12-19), we hear that just as the sin entered the world through the disobedience of one man, so too shall a righteous act by one man, Jesus Christ, lead to the deliverance of all.  The dispossession of humanity through sin will be reversed and redeemed by the holy work of the one man who is like us in all ways but sin... the one man whose offering to God is not stained by disobedience, or blocked by shame, or blunted by a darkened intellect or disabled will.  In Jesus Christ, all of humanity can rediscover its essential identity as Children of God, created is his likeness and image, and now restored to grace at the great price of the Redeemer's sacrifice.  In Christ Jesus, we can come to know who we really are without the confusion and despair of sin.

   For in today's Gospel, recounting the temptations of our Lord, we hear the devil asking Jesus three times, "who are you?"  Well, not in those words exactly, but in the proposition, "if you are the Son of God... make bread from rocks... jump from the parapet of the temple... bow down before me to receive power.   Who are you?  Are you the Son of God?  Well show me.  Prove it by your mighty powers.  Jesus, in full possession and understanding of who he is and what he is about, readily turns back the seductions of the deceiver, propositions which might have taken any other powerful man down the road to desolation.  Jesus possesses his humanity fully, and knows who he is and what he is about.  In doing so, he turns back the temptations of the devil, giving us an example of courage and of what the integrated, confident, humble, self-assured soul can do to effectively turn back temptation.

   But for now, we remain in a fallen state, affected by the assaults of evil which continue to darken and weaken human capacity for natural goodness.  In the example of Jesus Christ who teaches us about humanity's essential goodness, we have the power in his grace to turn back the assaults of the evil one.  Although our natures may be deformed by sin, the redeemer offers hope in the saving power of God.  Thus, we must constantly remind ourselves of our dignity as God's children and choose to live in that grace.  We must struggle to build virtue in cooperation with that grace.  In doing so, we can come to recognize most deeply who we are... in the good, the bad, and sometimes the ugly.  We rejoice in the good, and we rely on God to redeem that which remains.  The act of sacramental confession is a profound act of taking stock of who we really are before God.  We declare those things that are sinful, committing ourselves to the challenge of rooting evil out of our lives, and trusting in the Lord Jesus to take these imperfections to himself.  In doing so, he transforms our struggle, our alienation, our shame and suffering into a final, acceptable offering to the Father, through the merits of his cross.  As we continue through Lent, we come to see all the more that Jesus is in complete possession of himself and his mission... he is not a victim of circumstance or opportunity.  He is not on some divine suicide mission to carelessly dispense grace without acknowledging the costly price of obedience.  In fully possessing himself and all who place themselves in his care, he makes a uniquely perfect offering to the Father for the forgiveness and healing of all disobedience and sin.  By his sacrifice, we observe that self-possession and self-definition is not found in the glories of this world--in power, security, vengeance, retribution, fame, or fortune--but in power made perfect through weakness.  Thus, we can only understand ourselves, in and through Christ... by taking up our crosses and following after him.

   Lent, thus becomes an experience of self-discovery even as we come to encounter the stories and accounts of the suffering Lord again.  The passion and death of our Lord, leading to his resurrection is the pattern of life that is the antidote to the sin of humanity.  As we die to self, fear and shame are revealed as powerless. against us.  Fasting, prayer, and almsgiving are the 'exercises' in virtue to tone our bodies and spirits for the ongoing struggle of carrying the cross of our daily suffering and our profound alienation from God and ourselves in this dark, cold world.  It's not a self-centered, egoistic exercise to come to know ourselves in this way, but instead (and perhaps most often) an exercise in divine trust, humility, and mercy.  As we come to know ourselves as God knows us (consider Psalm 139), the essential rupture of human nature--the loss of self, the darkness of the mind, and the diminishment of the will to do good--begins to be restored in the mystery of Christ.