Author: Msgr. Charles Pope

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Can We Influence How the Lord will Judge Us?

The readings from Mass for the 24th Sunday of the Year were a continuation from the previous Sunday, when our Lord taught us of the requirement that we correct one another. Yesterday’s readings remind us that our correction must be done with mercy and humility. Failing to correct an erring or sinning brother is not mercy at all, but correcting in a harsh or mean-spirited way falls short as well.

As an extended meditation on yesterday’s Gospel let’s consider a kind of “mathematics” of the Kingdom of God. In effect, it says, “Pay attention! You will be judged by the same standard by which you judge others. So do the math and realize that you are storing up for yourselves a kind of standard by which I will judge you.”

The key teaching from the Lord in this regard is this: the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you (Luke 6:38). This statement comes at the end of a long discourse in which the Lord summons us to be generous, forgiving, merciful, patient, and reluctant to condemn others severely.

In effect, the Lord says, “Do the math. Realize that if you are merciful, you will be judged with mercy, but if you are harsh and critical, you will be judged by a harsh and critical standard. If you refuse to forgive, you will not be forgiven.

Like it or not, this is the mathematics of the Kingdom of God. It does not mean that we earn salvation, but it does mean that we have a lot of influence over the standard by which we will be judged.

So, if you are going to need mercy and grace on that day (and we all are), it is good to do the math of the Kingdom and store up mercy and grace for that day.

We will all, one day, answer to God. That day, as Scripture repeatedly teaches, is a day about which we should be sober. Sadly, there are many who give little thought to this truth and some who outright scoff at it.

Remarkably, we can influence the manner in which God will judge us, the standard he will use. Here we speak of the manner of God’s judgment. That is, whether He will be strict or merciful. We do not refer to the content. It is an obvious and axiomatic truth that God will judge our deeds. Hence, we should avoid wickedness and grave sins, and repent quickly when we commit such sins.

On the one hand, it would seem that we could have no influence at all on the manner in which we will be judged, for it would seem that God is no respecter of persons, and judges with perfect justice.

Yet, there are passages in Scripture that do speak of ways that we can influence the standard God will use, the manner of His judgment. Let’s look at four areas in which we can have influence and consider a few biblical passages.

I.  Whether we show mercy to others

Jesus says, Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy (Matthew 5:7). James says something similar and develops it a bit when he says, Always speak and act as those were going to be judged under the law of freedom, because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. So mercy triumphs over judgment (James 2:12-13). Thus we are taught that by observing mercy and patience in our relations with one another, we will influence the manner in which we are judged.

Sometimes in life, particularly if we are leaders or parents, we will need to punish and/or assign consequences to those who transgress moral laws or legal limits. Texts like these do not mean that we should never accompany correction with punitive measures. Such a way of living would be unwise and could confirm people in bad behavior. Even when punitive measures are needed, though, it makes sense to be lenient when possible and to attempt less measures before firmer ones are employed.

It is also clear from these biblical texts that it is highly foolish to go through life with severity toward others, with a lack of compassion or a harsh, unyielding attitude. We are all going to need a lot of grace and mercy at our judgment. Therefore, how misguided, how foolish it would be for us to be harsh and unmerciful toward others! For indeed, these text tell us that the merciful will be blessed and the unmerciful will be shown no mercy. Can you or I really expect that we will make it on the day of judgment without boatloads of mercy?

Now, therefore, is the time for us to seek to invoke the promise of the Lord, Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy.

II.  Whether we are strict or lenient with others

In a related text, the Lord Jesus says, The measure that you measure to others, will be measured back to you (Mark 4:24). If we hope for and need a merciful judgment, if we want a merciful measure or standard to be used, then we must do the same for others. The Lord makes it clear that He will use the measure or standard that we have used for others when He judges us. Have we been strict? If so, then He will be strict. Have we been merciful? If so, then He will be merciful. Be very careful before demanding that sinners and others who transgress receive the strongest penalties. There may be a time for such penalties, but it is not necessary that the most severe punishments always be used.

In John 8, the Pharisees wanted to exact the most severe penalty (stoning) on a woman caught in adultery. Jesus reasons with them, telling them that before they demand that He “throw the book at her,” they might want to recall that there are a few things about them that are also written in the book. One by one they drift away, seemingly after considering the foolishness of their demands for the most severe penalty. They finally realize that the measure they want to measure out to her will in turn be measured back to them.

III.  Whether we are generous to the poor

Luke relates the following text more specifically to our generosity: Give and it will be given to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap. For the measure that you measure to others will be measured back to you (Luke 6:38). This leads us to a second area in which the Scriptures teach us that we can influence the day of our judgment.

Jesus, after rebuking the Scribes Pharisees for their severity and extreme legalism, says to them (who were obsessing about cleaning the outside of the dish), You fools, did not the one who made the outside of the cup make the inside also? But if you give what is inside the cup as alms to the poor, everything will be made clean for you (Luke 11:40-41). It is a daring text, in the light of the theology of grace, and almost implies that we can somehow “purchase” forgiveness. But of course it is the Lord Himself who says it, and He does not say we can somehow purchase forgiveness. Surely, though, He does teach that generosity to the poor will in fact influence the day of our judgment.

Later in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus develops the thought, saying, I tell you, use your worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings (Lk 16:9). It is a complicated text, but Jesus seems to be saying that our generosity to the poor will surely gain advantages for us at the day of our judgment. Indeed, blessing the poor gives us powerful intercessors, for the Lord hears the cries of the poor. The picture painted here is of those poor welcoming us into our eternal dwellings.

Scripture elsewhere warns, If a man shuts his ears to the cry of the poor, he too will cry out and not be heard (Proverbs 21:13). Once again, it would seem that we can have some influence over the manner, measure, or standard that will be used by God at our judgment. To the merciful, mercy will be shown. The generous will experience that their cries are heard, for they heard the cries of the poor. The Lord more than implies that those who have been generous to the poor will have powerful advocates praying and interceding for them on the day of judgment. Indeed, a number of the Fathers of the Church remind us that in this life the poor need us, but in the life to come we will need them.

IV.  Whether we forgive others

A final area to explore in terms of how we might have influence over the manner of our judgment is in the matter of forgiveness. Just after giving us the Our Father, the Lord Jesus says, For if you forgive others when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins (Matthew 6:14 – 15).

Later in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus tells the terrifying parable of a man who had huge debt that was forgiven him by his master. When the man then refused to forgive his brother a much smaller debt, the master grew angry and threw him into debtors’ prison. Jesus concludes the parable by saying, This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you, unless you forgive your brother from your heart (Matthew 18:35).

So yes, it would seem that we can have some influence over the manner in which God will judge us, the standard He will use. While it is true that God will judge us by our deeds (cf Romans 2:6), the manner in which He judges us, whether with strictness or leniency, does seem to be a matter over which we have influence.

We are all going to need a lot of grace and mercy, for if God judges with strict justice and strict standards, who can stand? We will all have much to answer for. All the more reason for us to follow the teachings of the Lord in His Scripture, so that we can be sure that on the day of our judgment, mercy and the grace of leniency will prevail in abundance. Do we want mercy? Then we must show mercy. Do we want a gentle standard? Then we must measure out gentleness. Do we want forgiveness? Then we must offer forgiveness. Recruit some intercessors for the day of judgment by giving to the poor. They will be the most powerful intercessors for us as we leave this life and go to our judgment.

Indeed, God has shown us how we can store up a treasure of mercy, waiting for us in Heaven at the judgment seat of Christ. There are some good lessons here to heed.

Perhaps you might like to add, via the Comments section, some other ways that we can influence the standard that God will use to judge us.

Here’s an amusing video illustrating that the measure we measure out to others will be measured back to us:

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Finding Forgiveness Through the Magnificence of Mercy – A Homily for the 24th Sunday of the Year

The Gospel this Sunday draws us into a remarkably sensitive area of the faith, that of forgiving others who may have harmed us. There are many who been authentically hurt and others who in offering forgiveness will become vulnerable to further harm. Forgiveness is something we experience as a very personal call; in some cases, it may be the most challenging thing we are ever asked to do.

I have titled this Homily carefully; if we read the parable closely we will come to understand that mercy and forgiveness are not something we do out of our own flesh. Rather, they are capacities we must find within ourselves. As the remarkable reality of God’s incredible mercy for us dawns upon us, our hearts are moved. Suddenly we don’t hate anyone and forgiveness flows from our broken, humbled hearts. This is a gift that the Lord offers us.

Let’s look at this Gospel in four movements.

I.  THE PRESENTATION OF THE PROBLEM – The text says, Peter approached Jesus and asked him, “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus answered, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times.”

Peter’s question seems to presuppose that there needs to be a limit to forgiveness, that it is unrealistic to expect human beings to forgive without limit. Many would likely agree with Peter and might not even propose to be as generous as forgiving seven times. Jesus answers by speaking in a Jewish way, telling Peter that we cannot set limits on mercy or forgiveness, but must forgive without limit.

This of course raises many questions. Some people like to use extreme examples to illustrate that they think such a principle absurd or impractical: Do you mean to say that a wife should welcome back her physically abusive husband as long as he says he’s sorry? Should a business welcome back an embezzler and put him in charge of the cash register as long as he says he’s sorry? Should I let my alcoholic uncle stay with us and disturb my children as long as he says he’s sorry and swears he won’t do it again?

On some level these questions imply that forgiveness is to be fully equated with pretending that something never happened, or that it obligates me to maintain an unchanged relationship and let “bygones be bygones.” We are not always able to live in peace and have relaxed boundaries with people who have shown themselves to be untrustworthy in a consistent or fundamental way. Forgiveness does not obligate us to put ourselves or others at unreasonable risk or to set the sinner up for another fall.

But even though we may have to erect necessary and proper boundaries with those who have sinned against us, we are still summoned to forgive them. What does forgiveness mean in situations like this?

In effect, forgiveness is letting go of the need to change the past. Forgiving does not necessarily mean simply returning to the status quo ante, but it does mean letting go of resentments, bitterness, hatefulness, desires for revenge, and the need to lash out at someone for what he did or did not do. Forgiving means setting down ball and chain of hatred and anger we so often carry about. It means learning to love those who have harmed us and understanding the struggles that may have contributed to their harmful behavior. Forgiving can even mean being happy for the health and welfare of those who have hurt us and praying for their continued well being. Ultimately, forgiveness is freeing; a crushing weight is removed when we receive this gift from God.

How are we to receive this gift? The Lord gives an important insight for us to grasp in the verses ahead.

II.  THE POVERTY THAT IS PROFOUND – The text says, That is why the kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who decided to settle accounts with his servants. When he began the accounting, a debtor was brought before him who owed him a huge amount. Since he had no way of paying it back, his master ordered him to be sold, along with his wife, his children, and all his property, in payment of the debt. At that, the servant fell down, did him homage, and said, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back in full.’

The Lord’s parable begins by describing a man who owes a huge amount. The Greek text says he owed ten thousand talents (μυρίων ταλάντων). Scripture scholars love to debate exactly how much this would be in modern currency, but for our purposes, it is a Jewish way of saying that this fellow owes a great deal of money and it’s going to take more than working a little overtime or taking on a part-time job. This is a debt that is completely beyond his ability to pay. The situation is hopeless; the man is so profoundly poor that he is completely incapable of ever making a dent in what he owes.

This man is each one of us; this is our state before God. We have a debt of sin so high and so heavy that we can never hope to be rid of it on our own. I don’t care how many spiritual pushups we do, how many novenas, chaplets, and rosaries we say, how often we go to Mass, how many pilgrimages we undertake, or how much we give to the poor. We can’t even make a noticeable dent what we owe.

People like to make light of sin today, saying such inane things as, “I’m basically a good person” or “At least I’m not as bad as that prostitute over there.” So you’ve got $500 in your pocket and she’s only got $50. Big deal; the debt owed is three trillion dollars. None of us can even come close to paying it off. Without Christ paying the difference, we’re finished; off to jail; off to Hell. We have all committed the infinite offense of saying no to a God who is infinitely holy. You and I just don’t have the resources to turn back the debt.

You may think I’m belaboring the point, but we really have to get this through our thick skulls. We are in real trouble without Christ. The more we can grasp our profound poverty and understand that without Jesus Hell is our destination, the more we can appreciate the gift of what He has done for us. Let this sink in: We are in big trouble; our situation is grave. An old song says, “In times like these, you need a savior.”

III.  THE PITY THAT IS PERSONAL – The text says, Moved with compassion the master of that servant let him go and forgave him the loan.

Look at that! Don’t miss this! The whole debt is paid. Complete and dramatic mercy! Notice how personal the mercy is. The text uses intensifiers: the master of that servant let him go and forgave him the loan. This man is you. God has done this for you—you.

If we miss this point, nothing else makes sense. We have got to let it get through to us what God has done for us. If we do, it will equip us to show mercy.

One day it will finally dawn on us that the Son of God died for us. When it does, our stone hearts will break and love will pour in. With broken, humbled hearts, we will find it hard to hate anyone. In our gratitude we will gladly forgive those who have hurt us, even those who still hate us. With the new heart that the Lord can give us, we will forgive gladly, joyfully, and consistently out of gratitude and humility.

But we have to understand this. We have to know our poverty and recognize our inability to save ourselves. Then we have to know and experience that Jesus paid it all, that He saved us wholly and freely. If this will break through for us, we will forgive and love others.

If we do not understand this and we refuse to let the Holy Spirit to minister this gift to us, some pretty awful things will happen.

IV.  THE PITILESSNESS THAT IS PERILOUS – The text then relates a tragic story: When that servant had left, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a much smaller amount. He seized one of his fellow servants and started to choke him, demanding, ‘Pay back what you owe.’ Falling to his knees, his fellow servant begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back.’ But he refused. Instead, he had the fellow servant put in prison until he paid back the debt. Now when his fellow servants saw what had happened, they were deeply disturbed, and went to their master and reported the whole affair. His master summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you your entire debt because you begged me to. Should you not have had pity on your fellow servant, as I had pity on you?’ Then in anger his master handed him over to the torturers until he should pay back the whole debt. So will my heavenly Father do to you, unless each of you forgives your brother from your heart.

Apparently this wicked servant never got in touch with his true poverty and refused to experience the gift that he himself had received. As a result, his heart remained unbroken; it remained hard; it was stone. Having experienced no mercy (though mercy had been extended to him) he was willfully ill-equipped to show mercy to others. Callously unaware of the unbelievable gift he had been given, he remained unchanged. In so doing and being, he was unfit for the Kingdom of God, which can only be entered by gladly receiving mercy.

Yet many Christians are like this. They go through their life unaware and unappreciative of either their need for mercy or even the fact that incredible mercy has been extended to them. Unaware, they are ungrateful. Ungrateful, their hearts are unbroken; no light or love has been able to enter. Hurt by others they respond by hurting back, holding grudges, or growing arrogant and unkind. They lack compassion for or understanding of others and consider themselves superior to those whom they view as worse sinners than they are. They think that forgiveness is either a sign of weakness or something that only foolish people offer. They don’t get angry; they get even.

It all begins with a person who doesn’t understand the gravity of his condition or the depth of his poverty. You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked (Rev 3:17). Refusing to see their poverty they do not appreciate their gift; so the terrible cycle ensues.

Scripture warns in many places of our need to experience and show mercy:

  1. For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins (Matt 6:14).
  2. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy (Matt 5:7).
  3. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you (Matt 7:2).
  4. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. (Luke 6:37).
  5. This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your heart (Matt 18:35).
  6. For judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. But mercy triumphs over judgment! (James 2:13)
  7. The vengeful will suffer the Lord’s vengeance, for He remembers their sin in detail. Forgive your neighbor’s injustice, then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven. Can anyone nourish anger against another and expect healing from the Lord? Can anyone refuse mercy to another like himself and then seek pardon for his own sins? Remember your last days, set enmity aside. Remember death and cease from sin. Think of the Commandments, hate not your neighbor, remember the Most High’s covenant, and overlook faults (Sirach 27:30).

I don’t know about you, but I’m going to need a lot of mercy on the day of judgement. In texts like these, he Lord teaches that we can have an influence on the standard of judgment He will use. Do you want to find mercy? Then receive it now from Him and show it to others. Otherwise you will be judged with strict justice. I promise you; you don’t want that! If strict justice is the measure, we will surely go to Hell. We just owe too much to think we can make it without mercy.

This is a tough Gospel, but a freeing one. Certainly some of us find it hard to forgive. Some have been deeply hurt. In the end, forgiveness is a gift that we must receive from God. It is a work of God in us. We should, we must ask for it. Even if we feel hurt, we must seek the gift; it will bless us and prepare us to receive more mercy. Listen carefully to the warnings. If we cling to our anger and refuse the freeing gift of forgiveness, we become unfit for the kingdom of Heaven. No matter how deep our hurts we cannot justify our anger and refusal to forgive. God has just been too good to us. If that will dawn on us, our hearts will break with joy and be filled with love; and forgiveness will surely come with a new heart.

This song says, “Your grace and mercy brought me through, I’m living this moment because of you. I want to thank you, and praise you too, your grace and mercy brought me through.”

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Power Gone Wrong – As Seen in an Animated Short

We tend to demonize the word “power” in our culture. Of itself, though, power is simply the capacity to act, a kind of energy to accomplish what must be done. In this sense, power can lead to magnificent and creative solutions to difficulties, wonderful breakthroughs and great progress.

God gives us all a certain degree of power to act. We all have capacities, abilities, talents, and charisms. These powers interact with our will and our freedom. It is here that power can bring about great good or go terribly wrong.

Power gone wrong leads us to dominate and impose our will on others in a self-serving way. Used in this way, power can lead to unimaginable human suffering and misery; the wars, conflicts, genocides, and high death tolls of the last century demonstrate this. As many as 100 million people were put to death during the bloody 20th century in the name of many secular ideologies, in the name of ushering in secular “utopias,” and in quests for raw and dominating power.

In the video below we see power gone wrong. A man comes to apply for the job of “superhero” and is put through various tests to discern whether he has the temperament to handle power and use it for good.

The first few tests seem to go well. But suddenly, though, his power goes to his head and he gratuitously kills someone whom he was supposed to protect. From that point on, things go off the rails; the result is utter destruction.

How did this happen? He forgot that he has power for others, not for himself.

It frequently happens that those who stage revolutions “for the good of the people” or to end injustice, then rise to power and proceed to usher in their own reign of terror. While claiming to be revolting on behalf of “the people,” the leaders of the last century, with their secular utopian notions, often created worse oppression and dictatorships than they claimed to replace. Iron curtains fell and a loss of freedom ensued, as killing on a mass scale was ushered in—all “for the sake of the people.” Hitler killed millions, as did Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot, and others.

There is a subtlety to the video as to how the power goes to his head. On the face of it, his turn to darkness is quite sudden, but I would suggest that we could have seen it coming.

How? In the fact that our would-be superhero uses deadly violence to solve every problem with which he is presented during the testing. It is not enough for him to rescue the victim; he must destroy the threat. Finally, a threat sees the prepared response and retreats. He has won without destroying! However, by now he has a lust to kill. He must get the kill! He has been robbed of the kill by the retreat. Overcome by his lust for power, for the kill, he turns on the very person whom he was supposed to protect. From there it is all downhill. No one will limit his power, tell him what to do, or keep his blood lust in check! Power has corrupted him. He is addicted to it and must use it.

This is power gone wrong in miniature, in a video that illustrates the dark side of power well. Power is not wrong in and of itself, but it can go wrong when it interacts with our sinful nature and is no longer used in a measured fashion or when its objective is no longer helping others but merely serving the self.

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Pondering the Night of the Senses and the Paradox That We See Farther in the Darkness

As human beings we are very visual; there is a certain demand of our flesh to see on its own terms. But of course God, who is pure spirit, will not be seen in this way.

How can the human eye perceive what is spiritual? It is not designed to do so. We cannot see God as God any more than we should expect to be able to see justice sitting down to lunch with humility. These are not physical concepts; they are metaphysical ones. We may see evidence of their existence, but we do not see them physically—so also with God. We see a lot of evidence of His existence, but we do not see Him with our earthly eyes.

There is a well-known (but inaccurate) saying, “Seeing is believing.” Actually it is not; seeing is only seeing. When we see things physically, one of two things happens, either of which eliminates the existence of any sort of faith:

  1. We see something and accept it as true, in which case faith is no longer necessary, for it is not necessary to believe what we can plainly see.
  2. We scoff or act bemused and continue to disbelieve, saying (for example when we see a magic trick), “There’s a way of doing that; it’s just an illusion.”

In either case, faith (human or supernatural) is set aside when we see something with our earthly eyes.

Therefore, as Scripture insists over and over again, faith is not a matter of seeing in a physical way.

  • Now faith is the substance of things to be hoped for, the evidence of things that appear not (Hebrews 11:1).
  • So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal (2 Cor 4:18).
  • For we walk by faith, not by sight (2 Cor 5:7).
  • For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? (Rom 8:24)
  • For now, we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then, we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known (1 Cor 13:12).
  • And though you have not seen [Jesus], you love Him, and though you do not see Him now, but believe in Him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, obtaining as the outcome of your faith the salvation of your souls (1 Peter 1:8-9).
  • Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe (John 20:29).
  • So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ (Rom 10:17).

St. Thomas Aquinas says, Faith is a habit of the mind whereby eternal life is begun in us, making the intellect assent to what is non-apparent (Summa Theologica IIa IIae 4 ad 1).

Therefore, faith is not about what is seen with our earthly eyes. It comes from hearing—hearing the Word of God.

That said, faith is a way of knowing and thus also a way of “seeing,” but more in the intellectual sense, such as when we say, “Oh! Now I see” when we grasp a point intellectually. Although we know and “see” by faith, spiritual theologians such as St. John of the Cross remind us that the seeing and knowing by faith is “obscure.”

Usually we think of the word “obscure” with a slightly negative connotation. If something is obscure, it is tricky or hard to figure out; we look for something to illumine the darkness, to scatter the obscurity.

Not so fast. Consider the deeply paradoxical notion that the darkness, the obscurity, actually helps us to see better! Fr. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange explains it this way:

Obscure faith enlightens us somewhat like the night, which though surrounding us with shadows, allows us to see the stars, and by them, the depths of the firmament. … That we may see the stars, the sun must hide, night must begin. Amazingly, in the obscurity of the night we see to a far greater distance than in the day; we see even the distant stars which reveal to us the immense expanse of the heavens. … [And so] faith, although obscure, opens up to us the supernatural world and its infinite depths: the Kingdom of God, His inner life, which we shall see unveiled and clearly in eternity (The Three Ages of the Interior Life, Tan Publications Vol 1, p. 361).

In the darkness we see farther and deeper into space. Sunlight is precious, but it envelops us; it closes us in a much smaller world. We see better what is near; what is farther off and higher up is lost to us. From the perspective of our physical senses, faith is a “dark” knowing or seeing. By it, we see farther and higher, longer and deeper.

Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange continues,

Faith is obscure but it illumines our intellect … in a way very superior to the senses and to reason. … What is evident for our senses is sensible, not spiritual; therefore, it is not God himself. … Now faith makes us attain here on earth the inner life of God in the penumbra, in obscurity. Consequently, a man who preferred visions to infused faith would deceive himself … for he would prefer what is superficial and exterior, and what is accessible to our faculties, to what surpasses them. He would prefer figures to the divine reality (Ibid).

Therefore, we must be wary of the strong demand of our flesh to see on its own terms. Our earthly eyes cannot see God on the terms that our flesh demands. He is just too immanent, too transcendent, for that. Our eyes see what physically exists but not Existence Himself. If we yield to this demand of our flesh we are going to limit our world immensely. We will certainly see worldly and physical things well, but we will miss the greater portion of reality: the Kingdom of God and God Himself!

Welcome to the modern world; a small world increasingly closed in on itself; a world no longer enchanted and charged with mystery; a world that demands to see only in physical terms, preferring what is superficial and exterior, preferring the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever.

Ponder the great paradox of the “darkness” and “obscurity” of faith. In the humility of accepting the darkness, we see farther, higher, deeper, and longer. Jesus is the Light of the world, but we see Him in the “darkness” of faith; we understand Him most clearly not by the false light of this world, but by faith. Faith is obscure to our senses, but understood by our souls as a necessary condition to loving Him as our true and only Light.

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On the Paradoxical Freedom of Poverty

There is a saying that you cannot steal from a man who has nothing and you cannot threaten a man who has nothing to lose. Of Jesus, the Son of Man who had nowhere to lay his head (Matt 8:20), this was surely true. The world had no claim on Him, nothing with which to hook Him or claim His loyalty. Even His life could not be taken from Him, for He had already laid it down freely (cf Jn 10:18).

St. John Chrysostom spoke of it boldly in a sermon that paints well the paradoxical freedom of poverty and enslavement of riches and possessions. I’ll return to that in a moment.

First, consider that for most of us, the heart of the slavery comes from our attachments to this world. So easily do we sell our soul to its allurements; so easily does the world ensnare us with its empty promises and trinkets that so quickly become duties, distractions, and requirements. In our heart, we know that the things of the world weigh us down, but still our addiction to things draws us further into the endless cycle of ever-deepening desires and the increasing inability to live without many burdensome things.

It isn’t just things that entrap us. The world also hooks us with the mesmerizing promise of popularity, promotion, and even fame. In our desperate pursuit of popularity, we soon will do almost anything and make almost any compromise.

Jesus says, No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money (Matt 6:24).

Other relevant passages from Scripture include these:

Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him (1 John 2:15)

Adulterers! Do you not know that the love of this world is hatred toward God? Therefore, whoever chooses to be a friend of this world is an enemy of God (James 4:4).

In the end, most of our slavery and anxiety is rooted in our love for this world and our fear of losing its pleasures and its promises of power and popularity. It is without a doubt the greatest human struggle to escape from this world’s hooks and shackles and become utterly free—free to follow the Lord unreservedly and with no fear of what the world might do in retaliation.

In one of his sermons, St. John Chrysostom describes well the human being who is utterly free. It is a magnificent portrait, one he was able to exhibit not merely by his words but by his life.

Born in 344 at Antioch, he grew into a young man very much admired for his brilliance and oratorical skills. In 374 he fled to the mountains to live quietly and to break the hold that the world had on him. Following six years of “holy silence,” he worked quietly as a priest. In 398, however, he was summoned to be bishop of Constantinople. He was beloved for his powerful capacity to preach and received the name “Chrysostom” (Golden mouth). Yet not all appreciated the freedom with which he preached, a freedom that led him to denounce vice openly, no matter who was doing it. He was exiled twice (in 403 and 407) by powerful enemies, and though they tried to break his spirit and rob him of his joy, they could not prevail. Although he died on his way to his final exile (during a miserable journey in terrible weather), he died with joy, saying, “Glory be to God for all things. Amen.”

The world could not prevail over him. He did not fear it, for he owned nothing of it and owed nothing to it. It had no hold on him.

Thus speaking not only from Scripture but from experience, St. John Chrysostom said,

“The waters have risen and severe storms are upon us, but we do not fear drowning, for we stand firmly upon a rock. Let the sea rage, it cannot break the rock. Let the waves rise, they cannot sink the boat of Jesus. What are we to fear? Death? Life to me means Christ, and death is gain. Exile? The earth and its fullness belong to the Lord. The confiscation of goods? We brought nothing into this world, and we shall surely take nothing from it. I have only contempt for the world’s threats, I find its blessings laughable. I have no fear of poverty, no desire for wealth. I am not afraid of death nor do I long to live, except for your good. I concentrate therefore on the present situation, and I urge you, my friends, to have confidence …

“Let the world be in upheaval. I hold to his promise and read his message; that is my protecting wall and garrison. What message? Know that I am with you always, until the end of the world!

“If Christ is with me, whom shall I fear? Though the waves and the sea and the anger of princes are roused against me, they are less to me than a spider’s web … For I always say: Lord, your will be done; not what this fellow or that would have me do, but what you want me to do. That is my strong tower, my immovable rock, my staff that never gives way. If God wants something, let it be done! If he wants me to stay here, I am grateful. But wherever he wants me to be, I am no less grateful …

“For though my body die, my soul will live and be mindful of my people” (Ante exsilium, nn. 1-3).

This is freedom. You cannot steal from a man who owns nothing and you cannot threaten a man who has nothing to lose. You cannot deprive a man who has Jesus Christ.

Pray for this freedom.

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Strange Moments In Liturgical History – How a Paragon of Liturgical Tradition May Have Caused Unintended Effects

I have been asked by a number of people what I think of Pope Francis’ recent decision to remand a lot of the task of translating sacred texts to regional bishops’ conferences. To be honest, I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, I share many of the concerns about how the norms will be applied and how consistently accurate translations will be assured, but on the other, I do not know if it is healthy to place almost complete authority over the liturgy in Rome. In recent decades, many Catholics have depended on Rome to stamp out local liturgical abuses. Centralized authority is a double-edged sword, however. While some abuses have been addressed, there have also been many things imposed from Rome that those same Catholics have found far less pleasing.

As a kind of an admonition in this regard, I would like to republish an article I wrote a few years ago. It describes an unusual tale, one with some strange twists and turns, that helps to illustrate the problems with a sometimes heavy-handed centralized authority versus a more regional exercise of authority. Finding a balance for the Church in all this is not easy. I don’t know all the implications of permitting greater regional influence over translations, but something tells me that that either solution has potential problems. Here this is the reprint:

In the modern struggles and disagreements over the Liturgy, there tends to be a list of friends and opponents depending on one’s stance. For those of us with a more traditional leaning, Pope St. Pius X looms large as a friend and an image of tradition. He is usually seen as a defender of tradition and a great proponent of what today is called the Extraordinary Form (EF) or Traditional Latin Mass (TLM)—so much so that the Society of St. Pius X (SSPX) takes its name from him.

Yet things, people, and movements are seldom as simple as we would like them to be. There are many good reasons for admiring Pope St. Pius X’s attention to the Sacred Liturgy, but it can also be argued that he helped lay the groundwork for the revolution that would follow, not so much by his ideas but by his rather sweeping use of papal authority to influence and change the liturgy in his day.

One of the most far-reaching things he did had little impact on the average Catholic but it had a dramatic effect on priests, because it made changes to the Breviary, the prayers said by priests each day in the Divine Office (or Liturgy of the Hours). What makes what he did so significant was his use of papal power to rather summarily effect the change, a change that arguably did away with almost 1500 years of tradition, just because he wanted to. I’ll provide more of the details later, but first here is a little background. (If you want to bypass the background information, skip ahead to the red text below.)

Background:

The Roman Rite of the Mass developed and came to fundamental form in the very early days of the Church. Its most basic elements were mature by the 5th century, though most of its elements date back far earlier. Due to the influence of the Roman See, it was largely the pure template for the liturgical practice of the Western Church. However, there were many local variations to the Roman Rite, some of them significant enough to permit the use of another name altogether (e.g., the Gallican Rite, the Ambrosian Rite, the Sarum).

This diversity of liturgical practice caused tension at times, if for no other reason than its bewildering complexity. From time to time there were attempts made to unify the liturgy throughout Europe by recourse to the Roman Rite and the fundamental purity and antiquity it was accorded. Most notably, the Council of Trent decreed that any form of the liturgy that was less than 200 years old should be suppressed in favor of the Rite as celebrated in Rome. There was a reverence for antiquity and a wariness of novelty and recent innovations.

Yet even after Trent, especially in places like France, there was a tendency for accretions and innovations. In a display of what has sometimes been called Gallicanism, the decrees of the Council of Trent were either ignored or enforced less and less strenuously. Thus many local variations began again to develop. By the 18th century, many liturgists began to critique the disorderly state of affairs and emphasized a kind of ultramontanism (a term meaning, literally, “beyond (or over) the mountains” and referring to Rome), which sought to establish the Roman Rite more purely.

By the time of the First Vatican Council (1869-70), papal influence was already well established from antiquity, but was also growing against Gallicanism and other local episcopal influence. Weariness over local European divisions was also part of the growing influence of the Pope. The Dogma of Papal Infallibility, proclaimed at the First Vatican Council (though narrowly construed and only invoked in very specific circumstances), served only to highlight papal power and influence.

Thus by the time of Pope Pius X (1903-1914), the “booster shot” that had been given to the papacy enabled him to flex his papal muscles and extend his influence in more sweeping ways. All this leads us to the liturgical changes introduced by Pope Pius X.

It was in 1911, with the publication of Divino afflatus, that rather dramatic changes were made to the Roman Breviary.

Some of the changes were small: cleaning up some accretions, adjusting the calendar, and giving greater priority to the temporal cycle over the more erratic sanctoral cycle. The obligations of what parts of the office and other prayers had to be said by priests were also clarified.

Along with these minor changes was a casting aside of the ancient arrangement of the psalter. Most notably, the ancient and almost universal tradition of praying the Laudate psalms (148-150) every morning and again every night at Compline was simply removed and replaced. No tradition in the Church was as universal and ancient as this, but with one stroke of his pen, Pope Pius X did away with it. Almost no liturgist has ever described what the Pope did as anything less than dramatic and sweeping.

Alcuin Reid, OSB, in his The Organic Development of the Liturgy (pp. 74-76), quotes the views of a number of liturgical scholars on this action by Pope St. Pius X:

  1. Anton Baumstark (in a scathing remark): Down to the year 1911 there was nothing in the Christian liturgy of such absolute universality as this practice in the morning office, and no doubt its universality was inherited from the Synagogue … hence, to [this “reform”] of Psalterium Romanun belongs the distinction of having brought to an end the universal observance of a liturgical practice which was followed by the Divine Redeemer himself during his life on earth.
  2. Pius Parsch: It is rather amazing that despite the conservative character of the Church, Pius X should have resolved on this vast change which went counter to a practice of 1500 years’ standing.
  3. Robert Taft, SJ: … this was a shocking departure from the almost universal Christian tradition.
  4. William Bonniwell, OP: In the revision of Pius X the venerable office of the Roman Church was gravely mutilated.

Frankly, Pius X’s move was unprecedented in liturgical history. Although Pope Urban VIII’s redaction of the Latin Hymns of the Breviary was also an unfortunate and imprudent mutilation of ancient masterpieces, their use in the Church was less universal than the psalms of Lauds and the redaction was not imposed by judicial power.

The issue may seem minor to those unfamiliar with the Office, but the precedent of using sweeping judicial power to simply end an ancient tradition is not minor at all. It is this same thinking that would later allow a sweeping change of the Mass to be promulgated in 1970 and for the Old Rite to be “abolished” by judicial fiat of Pope Paul VI. The Mass promulgated in 1970 was not specified by the Second Vatican Council Fathers, but by a small consilium. It was not marked by organic change but (as Pope Benedict XVI and others have observed) rather was characterized by a hermeneutic of rupture and discontinuity. Only later would Pope Benedict XVI teach that there was no precedent for or right to abolish the older form Roman Rite (a rite far older than 200 years).

All of this heavy-handed use of papal power ironically had a precedent in Pope St. Pius X, the favored saint of many lovers of tradition. There were other liturgical waves that emanated from this indisputably good man and pope that have troubled us since. Among them was the disruption in the order of the Sacraments, when Pope Pius X moved First Communion to early youth but did not attend to the Sacrament of Confirmation. Thus the ancient order of initiation: Baptism, Confirmation, and Eucharist, was disrupted; Confirmation became a kind of “hanging” sacrament, detached from its liturgical and theological moorings. The result was its reduction to a sort of Catholic Bar Mitzvah.

Further, Pope Pius X was also dismissive, if not juridically forbidding, of orchestral masses. While he fostered chant—a good thing—he also suppressed a musical form that had inspired most of the classical composers (e.g., Mozart, Schubert, and Beethoven) to contribute to the Church’s musical patrimony. It would be 70 years before such Masses would again be heard widely in the Church.

Again, all of these issues are less significant for their immediate effect than for the groundwork they laid for what came later. The sudden liturgical changes of the 1960s would not have been possible in previous ages because although the Pope and Rome were strongly influential, local bishops and churches had a lot more leeway and influence on the liturgy.

This setup of local freedom is not without troubles. Too much diversity leads to difficulty and chaos. Some general norms need to hold sway; regional and even ecumenical councils need to help rein in extreme diversity by reasserting proper liturgical principles.

However, centralizing power over the liturgy within the papacy also presents serious difficulties. Plainly put, the liturgy is just too important to have it all depend on the notions of one man, even a holy man like Pius X. Many of his reforms were good, even necessary, and his sanctity is not in dispute; but even saints do not get everything right and some of what they say and do may later be exaggerated or corrupted by those that follow.

In recent decades, traditional Catholics have looked to Rome to resolve liturgical debates. On one level this has been necessary, as many local bishops and churches have seemingly abdicated their responsibility to oversee the liturgy, correct abuses, and guarantee the legitimate rights of the faithful.

However, traditional Catholics would also do well to understand the problems inherent in having an overly centralized control of the Sacred Liturgy. More needs to be done by traditional Catholics to build a foundation for good liturgy in their local parishes by building a culture that is respectful of tradition and sober about the pitfalls of depending too much on papal authority.

How strange it is that the paragon of traditional Catholicism should have, even if unwittingly, helped paved the way for what I would argue is the excessive use of supreme judicial authority in regard to the liturgy, a use so sweeping that even Pope Benedict XVI would have to announce that the suppression of the older Roman Rite was neither possible nor in effect.

Just one of those strange moments in liturgical history.

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Considerations in Fraternal Correction

Fraternal correction is so important to the health of individuals, the family, the Church, and even nations, that some further reflection following Sunday’s Gospel is in order. The correction of a sinner is complex and difficult to accomplish well. Many avoid it entirely, especially due to these hypersensitive times, when some people base their very identity on their sins. Many take correction very personally, even labeling it “hate speech.” Those who dare to correct are often shamed for doing so and accused of “judging.”

Distinguishing between what God teaches to be good and what He teaches to be sin is a judgment that is required of us; our own judgment in the matter must conform to God’s revealed judgment. All moral exhortation in the Scripture aims to conform our understanding and judgment to God’s truth, revealed in Scripture and Natural Law. While we cannot judge a person’s ultimate state before God, we can and must judge; we must distinguish good from evil, virtue from sin.

Thus, difficult though it is, fraternal correction is required of us by God in a general way. However, this raises many questions: Is correction always required? Are we required to correct everyone? Does our obligation to correct vary and if so, how?

St. Thomas Aquinas sets forth some answers for us, both in terms of the basis of our obligation and its limits.

St. Thomas places the roots our obligation to correct one another in both charity and justice:

Now a man’s sin may be considered in two ways, first as being harmful to the sinner, secondly as conducing to the harm of others, by hurting or scandalizing them, or by being detrimental to the common good, the justice of which is disturbed by that man’s sin. … Now to do away with anyone’s evil is the same as to procure his good; and to procure a person’s good is an act of charity, whereby we wish and do our friend well. … Therefore, fraternal correction is an act of charity …. There is another correction which applies a remedy to the sin of the wrongdoer, considered as hurtful to others, and especially to the common good. This correction is an act of justice, whose concern it is to safeguard the rectitude of justice between one man and another (Summa Theologica II, IIae, q. 33, art. 1, Respondeo).

So, fraternal correction is required of us as a precept or command. However, there are prudential aspects of when and how to correct. This is because the command to correct is not one that forbids us from doing something (in which case we should never do it), but rather one that requires something of us under various circumstances. Although the precept to correct describes what we are to do as a general practice, it cannot possibly address every particular set of circumstances. St. Thomas says,

Fraternal correction is a matter of precept. [W]hile the negative precepts of the Law forbid sinful acts, the positive precepts inculcate acts of virtue. … [N]egative precepts bind always and for all times. On the other hand, acts of virtue must [be done] by observing the due circumstances, which are requisite in order that an act be virtuous; namely, that it be done where, when, and how it ought to be done. … [F]raternal correction is directed to a brother’s amendment: so that it is a matter of precept, in so far as it is necessary for that end, but not so as we have to correct our erring brother at all places and times (Summa Theologica II, IIae, q. 33, art. 2, Respondeo).

Thus, the particular circumstances will determine whom I must correct and how. As a general rule, parents are obligated to correct their children. Those in authority are more obligated to correct their subordinates. Elders are more obligated to correct those significantly younger. Family ties increase the obligation to correct; we are less obligated to correct strangers. Those with special training or standing such as teachers, pastors, bishops, and theologians are obligated to correct error and sin. However, their sphere of influence helps to focus their obligation. For example, a pastor’s greatest obligation is to instruct and correct his own parishioners; a bishop, his own flock; a teacher, his or her own students.

Generally, then, obligations to correct are lessened when the relationship is more distant or when one is in an inferior position.

However, just because an obligation is not as strong does not mean that there is never an obligation. For example, there are times when an inferior still ought to correct his superior. St. Thomas teaches this, but with an important distinction:

[C]orrection is twofold. One is an act of charity, which seeks in a special way the recovery of an erring brother by means of a simple warning: such like correction belongs to anyone who has charity, be he subject or prelate.

But there is another correction which is an act of justice purposing the common good, which is procured not only by warning one’s brother, but also, sometimes, by punishing him, that others may, through fear, desist from sin. Such a correction belongs only to prelates, whose business it is not only to admonish, but also to correct by means of punishments (Summa Theologica II, IIae, q. 33, art. 3, Respondeo).

St. Thomas adds,

A subject is not competent to administer to his prelate the correction which is an act of justice through the coercive nature of punishment: but the fraternal correction which is an act of charity is within the competency of everyone in respect of any person towards whom he is bound by charity, provided there be something in that person which requires correction.

… it follows that when a subject corrects his prelate, he ought to do so in a becoming manner, not with impudence and harshness, but with gentleness and respect. Hence the Apostle says (1 Timothy 5:1): “An ancient man rebuke not, but entreat him as a father” (Summa Theologica II, IIae, q. 33, art 4, Respondeo).

There is an additional consideration in administering fraternal correction publicly. As a general norm, the first approach should be to correct privately, but there are exceptions, which St. Thomas treats here:

With regard to the public denunciation of sins it is necessary to make a distinction: because sins may be either public or secret. On the case of public sins, a remedy is required not only for the sinner, that he may become better, but also for others, who know of his sin, lest they be scandalized. Wherefore such like sins should be denounced in public, according to the saying of the Apostle (1 Timothy 5:20): “Them that sin reprove before all, that the rest also may have fear,” which is to be understood as referring to public sins, as Augustine states (De Verb. Dom. xvi, 7).

On the other hand, in the case of secret sins, the words of Our Lord seem to apply (Matthew 18:15): “If thy brother shall offend against thee tell him his sin, but between you and him alone,” etc. …[So] there are … sins which injure none but the sinner, and the person sinned against, either because he alone is hurt by the sinner, or at least because he alone knows about his sin, and then our one purpose should be to help our sinning brother [privately] … Secondly, we ought to safeguard our sinning brother’s good name, both because the dishonor of one leads to the dishonor of others … and also because when one man’s sin is made public others are incited to sin likewise (Summa Theologica II, IIae, q. 33, art. 7, Respondeo).

… When the secret admonition has been given once or several times, as long as there is probable hope of his amendment, we must continue to admonish him in private, but as soon as we are able to judge with any probability that the secret admonition is of no avail, we must take further steps … (Summa Theologica II, IIae, q. 33, art. 8, Reply to obj. 1).

Both St. Thomas’ and our Lord’s words thus indicate that private admonition does not always work. At such times (if the matter is serious), others can and should be brought in. (The even rarer remedy of excommunication should be applied only after repeated entreaties.) St. Thomas says,

Since, however, one’s conscience should be preferred to a good name, Our Lord wished that we should publicly denounce our brother and so deliver his conscience from sin, even though he should forfeit his good name. Therefore, it is evident that the precept requires a secret admonition to precede public denunciation (Summa Theologica, II, IIae, q. 33, art 7, Respondeo).

St. Thomas also addresses the case in which Church prelates must be corrected by those subject to them in some way. Clearly the matter must be serious and other more discreet methods should first be exhausted. St. Thomas teaches as follows regarding the public correction of Church prelates:

To withstand anyone in public exceeds the mode of fraternal correction, and so Paul would not have withstood Peter then, unless he were in some way his equal as regards the defense of the faith. But one who is not an equal can reprove privately and respectfully. Hence the Apostle in writing to the Colossians (4:17) tells them to admonish their prelate: “Say to Archippus: Fulfil thy ministry [Vulgate: ‘Take heed to the ministry which thou hast received in the Lord, that thou fulfil it.’ Cf. 2 Timothy 4:5.” It must be observed, however, that if the faith were endangered, a subject ought to rebuke his prelate even publicly. Hence Paul, who was Peter’s subject, rebuked him in public, on account of the imminent danger of scandal concerning faith, and, as the gloss of Augustine says on Galatians 2:11, “Peter gave an example to superiors, that if at any time they should happen to stray from the straight path, they should not disdain to be reproved by their subjects” (Summa Theologica II, IIae, q. 33, art. 4, Reply to obj. 2).

Note that although St. Thomas gives a general opinion in this regard based on solid principles, Canon Law and other standing practices should be considered if a specific instance arises in which a prelate needs to be reproved by his subjects. Angry denunciations and mere insubordination are out of place. As St. Paul says, An ancient man rebuke not, but entreat him as a father (1 Tim 5:1).

Conclusion: Fraternal correction is central to healthy families, a healthy church, and a healthy culture. In recent times we have done very poorly with this on every level. Our lack of charitable and clear correction goes a long way in explaining the moral confusion and darkness of our time. All of us, clergy and laity alike, need to recover a healthy respect for this act of charity toward the sinner and justice toward the wider community. In addition, all of us need to be more open to correction ourselves. Let us pray for courage, zeal, and charity in this regard.

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On the Balance of Kindness and Correction

As a follow-up from Sunday’s Gospel (on correcting the sinner) it is important to reflect on balancing salutary discipline with necessary consolation and encouragement—never an easy task. For example, it is possible for parents to be so severe with their children that they become disheartened and lack necessary self-esteem; but it is also possible for parents to be so lax with them that the children become spoiled and lack proper self-discipline and humility. Scripture, seeking to balance teaching with encouragement, says, Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord (Eph 6:4).

Pastors, in their leadership of parishes, also need to find proper balance, offering kindness, consolation, encouragement, and witness to their congregations, while not failing to properly rebuke sin and warn of its consequences and of the coming judgment. St. Paul says,

You are witnesses, and so is God, how devoutly and uprightly and blamelessly we behaved toward you believers; just as you know how we were exhorting and encouraging and imploring each one of you as a father would his own children, so that you would walk in a manner worthy of the God who calls you into His own kingdom and glory (1 Thess 2:11-13).

Like a loving Father must the priest exhort, as one who teaches and who wants and expects the best for his flock.

It is hard to argue that we have the balance right in the Church today. Correction and rebuke, according to what most Catholics report, are seldom mentioned in the pulpit. Such omission is not acting like a father; a father would see how sin threatens the future of his children and in love would correct them, being willing to upset his children to prevent something far worse. There are also priests who teach and preach as if trying to win an argument and prevail over others, rather than out of loving concern; they may be unduly harsh. Proper balance is necessary.

In families, the trend seems to be toward being overly permissive. Too many children today have become incorrigible because they did not learn discipline when they were young. Too many are bold toward their elders and have lost the humility necessary for learning and maturity. This speaks to families in which the balance between encouragement and discipline has been lost. It is also true that some children are oppressed by the other extreme and are weighed down with discouragement, poor self-image, and anger. Again, proper balance is necessary.

In his Book of Pastoral Rule, St. Gregory presents some good advice in regard to this balance. While much of what he says is common sense, it is important to review it; common sense doesn’t seem to be so common today. St. Gregory’s treatise offers memorable imagery for the thoughtful reader, whether priest or parent. Here is what he has to say about addressing the wound of sin:

But often a wound is made worse by unskilled mending … in every case, care should be provided in such a way that discipline is never rigid, nor kindness lax. … Either discipline or kindness is lacking if one is ever exercised independently of the other. … This is what the scriptures teach through the Samaritan who took the half-dead man to the inn and applied wine and oil to his wounds. The wine purged them and the oil soothed them.

Indeed, it is necessary that whoever directs the healing of wounds must administer with wine the bite of pain, and with oil the caress of kindness; so that what is rotten may be purged to by the wine, and what is curable may be soothed by the oil.

In short, gentleness is to be mixed with severity, a combination that will prevent the laity from becoming exasperated by excessive harshness, or relaxed by undue kindness. … Wherefore David said, “Your rod and your staff have comforted me” (Psalm 23:4). Indeed, by the rod we are punished and by the staff we are sustained. If, therefore, there is correction by the rod, let there also be support through the staff. Let there be love that does not soften, vigor that does not exasperate, zeal that is not immoderate or uncontrolled, and kindness that spares, but not more than is befitting. Therefore, justice and mercy are forged together in the art of spiritual direction. (Rule II.6)

These are practical reminders to be sure, but they also come with the memorable images of wine and oil, rod and staff. Both are necessary; each must balance the other. There must be clarity with charity and charity with clarity; there must be veritatem in caritate (truth in love).