A Second Look. Mark Hart

and today and for ever” (Heb 13:8). Jesus didn’t oppose the sinner, then, and He sure as heaven isn’t going to oppose you now.

      Christ didn’t leave us to figure out truth, repentance, and forgiveness on our own. Jesus had a divine appointment, and He went straight to the place He wasn’t supposed to go, to the person He wasn’t supposed to talk with. He wasn’t revealing His thirst; He was inviting her to reveal hers! As He talks to her, though, He reveals even more:

      Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come here.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and he whom you now have is not your husband; this you said truly.” The woman said to him, “Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet.” (John 4:16-19)

      So, the Lord takes this nice scene and, as with the tables in the Temple area, completely upends it. In a shocking moment ripe for reality television, Jesus reveals that not only has this woman had five husbands but that number six isn’t even wed to her! This is where the dramatic music would be cued to alert the viewers of the scandal. Can you imagine how you’d feel — all of your sins hanging out in broad daylight, revealed by this seemingly random Nazarene carpenter/mystery man? All of a sudden, the Samaritan woman was face to face with the God of the universe and the reality of her own shame.

      Some read this passage and think: “That’s not right. How could God do such a thing to her? Isn’t it bad enough that the Samaritan townspeople gossip about her, and then this random Jewish carpenter is going to come to call her out?” To be clear, though, that is how much God loves her. God revealed her sin precisely because of His unfathomable love. If He didn’t say, “I know about your past,” she would say, “Fooled him! He’s no prophet.” The fact is that He drew right next to her, looked her right in the eyes, and basically said, “I know about your shame, and I still love you.” Jesus didn’t want her to be chained to her sinful past any longer. God loved her so much that He crashed into her existence in an unsuspecting moment, not just to forgive her but to save her. He wants her to come face to face with her former self, not to rub her nose in it but in hopes that she will invite him into it!

      What would your response be if you were the one holding the bucket? Would you deny the sin? Would you walk away? Would you possibly retaliate, firing back at the mystery man? Or would you own your past as you sat in a shame-filled present?

       I have a confession to make

      Do you know what happens when our sin is brought into the light? We either look for a place to hide it or seek a place to dump it. Therapy often wades through the former, while the Sacrament of Reconciliation beckons us to the latter. The woman beside the well looked Christ in the eyes as she was made new. We have the exact same opportunity thanks to Christ’s priesthood here on earth.

      Shoulders slumped from fatigue; eyes bloodshot; stoles a beautiful, albeit disgusting, blend of countless young souls’ tears: This is a not-too-uncommon sight in youth ministry — that is, priests sitting in persona Christi capitas offering mercy and absolution to an endless line of adolescent sinners ardently desiring sainthood. The scene repeats itself at every parish retreat, summer camp, and youth rally. The numbers are staggering, with priests hearing on some weekends hundreds of confessions. These courageous (and tired) souls are consistently poured out like libations in a manner that would make St. Paul proud (see Phil 2:17), often remaining on less-than-comfortable chairs for hours on end so that every last penitent has the opportunity to hear the beautiful and incomparable words of freedom … “I absolve you.”

      After a cursory glance around the room during these events, many are quick to blame the priest shortage (an irresponsible euphemism for what is really a “response shortage” — God is calling, men just aren’t listening or hearing, but let’s not digress). A more exacting evaluation would reveal a group of teens who have either not been offered the opportunity more frequently or, perhaps more to the point, have not been invited into the sacramental encounter since the last such retreat/event. The lines are long for a variety of reasons, but the ratio of teens to priests is not the fundamental problem; it’s a fruit, but not the root. The Church needs more sin. Yes, you read that correctly. The Church needs more sin to be preached and taught about, so that we can be reconciled more regularly. Sin has not lost its luster; leaders have lost their muster. And that is one very deadly combination. Even in a suffering economy, the wages of sin remain the same: death (see Rom 6:23).

      So, why don’t leaders preach and teach more about sin? I believe it’s rooted in fear. Sometimes leaders are afraid that preaching sin will push people away or hurt their numbers or, worst yet, their collection. Experience shows, however, that if done correctly, the result is just the opposite. Did the woman at the well retreat in fear or advance for mercy? Humble souls are dying for someone to draw a line in the sand. To quote G. K. Chesterton, “Art, like morality, consists in drawing a line somewhere.”

      Souls want truth; hearts are hard-wired for it. More to the point, everyone needs truth … especially the truth about hell, heaven, purgatory, and the lives that lead to all three. Modern minds aren’t stupid, nor should they be placated or pandered to. While always couched in compassion and mercy, God didn’t shy away from preaching on truth, sin, and consequence; He began in Eden and continues to speak truth throughout salvation history. Even Christ’s beloved Sermon on the Mount spoke more about hell and the consequence of sin than any of His other discourses or (far easier-to-remember) parables.

      People have forgotten a fundamental truth about sin — namely, that God did not give Adam and Eve the right to decide subjectively what was good and evil; in His mercy, He gave them the right to choose between what is objectively good and evil. He was adamant. He was clear. He loved them (and us) enough not to leave anything in doubt. He explained the consequences (see Gn 2:17).

      Today, souls are being swallowed up and spit out by a secular humanist, morally relativist culture. Taking ownership of our sin is not a popular thing to do, especially for Christians in the modern age. Most of the time, when we have a lot of sin and shame in our past, we prefer to pretend it’s not there. We are happy to show God all the bright and shiny parts of our life, but prefer to keep the Lord out of the junk drawers and messy closets of our soul. Some have convinced themselves that their sins are anything but. No sin equals no need for a Savior. Though weighed down by the guilt, they’d rather breathe than really live, as their soul dies a painful death. The woman at the well wasn’t really living … she was merely breathing, until “the way, and the truth, and the life” (Jn 14:6) offered her renewal.

      Unless you reconcile the past, you’re never going to taste the future God has designed for you.

      Others are so overwhelmed by the gravity of their past sins that they won’t even let God into their past. These souls desire God to be present in their present and merciful in their future, but they won’t allow the Lord into their past. Though they might even live in their past, they are afraid to let Christ anywhere near it. These souls that dwell in the past go back every chance they get. “You can’t forgive me, Lord. I’ve sinned too much and run too far. My sin, it’s just too big,” they think. They might even lament: “Church? Oh, I can’t go to church. I can’t go in … that place will fall down if I’m in it.”

      Allow me to say that if the Church hasn’t fallen down in 2,000 years, it sure as hell is not going to fall down because of you. The Catholic Church is a Church of mercy; in fact, that’s our mission statement. We are a Church who now counts former mass murderers, con artists, alcoholics, thieves, rapists, and heretics among the Communion of Saints. Never doubt the power of God’s grace nor the ability it affords you to change.

      If we don’t say, “God, I don’t just want you to be the God of my present or the God of my future, but I want you to be the God and savior of my past!” then we are missing Simon Peter’s boat. Tell the Lord, now: “I want you to walk back with me, Jesus. I trust you. Please tell me I don’t have to carry this anymore. Please forgive me. Please tell me You still love this sinner called Your child.”

      The only sin God will not forgive is the one you don’t