Here and Now with Francis: 1/4/18 (mercy, confession, liturgy)
It’s good to stress that we confess, be it to God or to brothers, that we are sinners: this helps us to understand the dimension of sin that, while it separates us from God, also divides us from our brethren and vice versa.
The words we say with the mouth are accompanied by the gesture of beating our breast, acknowledging that I have sinned by my own fault, and not that of others. It often happens in fact that, out of fear and shame, we point the finger to accuse others. It costs to admit that we are culpable, but it does us good to confess it sincerely, to confess our sins. I remember a story, which an old missionary told, of a woman who went to confession and began to tell the errors of her husband; then she went on to tell the errors of her mother-in-law and then the sins of neighbors. At a certain point, the confessor said to her: “But, lady, tell me, have you finished? — Very good: you have finished with others’ sins. Now begin to tell yours.” We must tell our sins! . . . Sacred Scripture offers us luminous examples of “penitent” figures that, looking into themselves after having committed a sin, find the courage to take off the mask and open themselves to the grace that renews the heart. We think of King David and of the words attributed to him in the Psalm: “Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy steadfast love; according to thy abundant mercy blot out my transgressions” (51:3). We think of the Prodigal Son who returns to the Father; or to the publican’s invocation: “God, be merciful to me a sinner” (Luke 18:13). We think also of Saint Peter, of Zacchaeus, of the Samaritan woman. To measure oneself with the frailty of the clay of which we are kneaded is an experience that strengthens us: while it makes us deal with our weakness, it opens the heart to invoke the divine mercy, which transforms and converts. And this is what we do in the penitential act at the beginning of the Mass. [full text]
