forgiveness

Embracing Forgiveness in Ordinary Life

Green vine leaves climbing a wooden trellis with sunlight shining through 
Thursday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time

First Reading: Amos 7:10-17
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 19:8, 9, 10, 11
Gospel: Matthew 9:1-8
Daily readings: https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/070226.cfm

Amos is not a professional prophet. He tells us that himself. "I was no prophet, nor did I belong to a company of prophets. I was a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore trees." He is an ordinary man from an ordinary trade, and God pulled him out of it and sent him to speak. Amaziah the priest wants him silenced — tells him to go back to Judah and earn his bread prophesying there, not here. And Amos's response is simple: I did not choose this. God took me and said, go, prophesy. This is not my idea. When an ordinary person is willing to be used, God tends to take them at their word.

Then Jesus comes back to his own town. A paralyzed man is brought to him on a stretcher. And before he does anything else, Jesus says something that causes a small scandal in the room: "Courage, child, your sins are forgiven." Not — you are healed. First: your sins are forgiven. The scribes immediately recognize what this implies. Only God forgives sins. So either Jesus is blaspheming, or he is who he says he is. Jesus reads the room, addresses their thoughts directly, and then heals the man to demonstrate that the authority is real. "But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins..." He gets up and walks home.

The crowd's response is worth sitting with: "They were struck with awe and glorified God who had given such authority to human beings." Not just to this one man — to human beings. The Incarnation means that God, in becoming one of us, has authorized something new. Forgiveness walking the earth in a human body. Healing happening through human hands. Ordinary people like Amos — like us — being taken from their fig trees and sent somewhere. The same authority that raised the paralyzed man is offered to the Church, and through the Church, to each of us in confession, in prayer, in the ordinary moments of a Thursday.


A few questions to sit with tonight:

1. Is there something I am carrying — a guilt, an old wound, a sin I keep circling back to — that I have not yet fully received forgiveness for? What is keeping me from letting it go?

2. Like Amos, has God ever pulled me out of something ordinary and asked me to do something I did not choose? How did I respond?

3. When I encounter Jesus in prayer or at Mass, do I come as someone who needs forgiveness first — or do I mostly come with requests? What would it change to start there?

4. Was there a moment today when I was struck with awe — when something reminded me that God is real and near? Did I stop long enough to notice it?


One small thing for tomorrow:

If you have been away from Confession for a while, let tomorrow be the day you look up your parish's confession times and write them down. You do not have to go tomorrow — just find the time and put it somewhere visible. That small act of intention is already a turning.


Lord Jesus, you said to the paralyzed man what you say to me: courage, your sins are forgiven. I do not always feel the courage or the forgiveness. But I want to receive both. Thank you for crossing into my ordinary life — my ordinary Thursday — with the same authority you brought to that room in Capernaum. Forgive me for the things I carry that I have not laid down. Heal what is paralyzed in me, the places where I have stopped moving because I stopped believing you could reach there. Like Amos, I am nothing special — just someone you took from their ordinary work. Use me anyway. May Mary, who said yes before she understood, help me to say the same. Amen.


If you'd like to share: is there something you have been carrying that you have not yet fully received forgiveness for — and can we pray together that you find the courage to lay it down?

Examen: Thursday of the Eleventh Week in Ordinary Time

Open ancient book with a red ribbon bookmark and a lit candle in a holder on a wooden table 
Thursday of the Eleventh Week in Ordinary Time

First Reading: Sirach 48:1-14
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 97:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 7
Gospel: Matthew 6:7-15
Daily readings: https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/061826.cfm

The Book of Sirach pauses today to sing about Elijah and Elisha — two men whose lives were so fully given to God that miracles followed them like a second shadow. "Like a fire there appeared the prophet Elijah, whose words were as a flaming furnace." That is not a description of someone who was loud or impressive for its own sake. It is a description of someone so filled with God that simply speaking the truth changed things.

Then Jesus gives us the Our Father. Right after yesterday's reminder to pray in secret, today he teaches us what to actually say. And it is striking how simple it is. Not many words. Not elaborate theology. Just a child talking to a Father — your name be holy, your kingdom come, give us bread, forgive us as we forgive, keep us from evil. The whole shape of the Christian life is right there in a few lines.

The line that tends to catch in the throat is the forgiveness one. Forgive us as we forgive those who trespass against us. Jesus drives the point home at the end: if you do not forgive others, your Father will not forgive you. That is not a threat — it is a description of how the heart works. A heart clenched tight around an old wound cannot receive much. The same hands that hold a grudge have a hard time holding grace. Jesus is not asking us to pretend the hurt never happened. He is asking us to let the debt go — for our own sake as much as theirs.


A few questions to sit with today:

1. When I pray, am I actually talking to my Father — or am I going through motions, filling time, performing a duty?

2. Is there someone I have not yet fully forgiven — someone whose name comes up in my chest before my mind? What would it take to loosen that grip a little?

3. Did I ask God for what I actually need today, simply and honestly, the way a child asks a parent?

4. Where did I see God's kingdom show up in a small way today — in my family, my work, a stranger, a moment of unexpected peace?


One small thing for tomorrow:

Pray the Our Father slowly tomorrow — once, out loud if you can, pausing at each line. Let "forgive us as we forgive" land fully before you move on. If a face comes to mind at that line, hold it there gently and say: "Lord, I release what they owe me. Help me mean it." That is enough.


Lord Jesus, thank you for teaching me to pray. I confess that I often rush through words without really meaning them, or I come to you with a list instead of a conversation. Slow me down. Help me to pray the way you taught — simply, honestly, from the heart. And the forgiveness part, Lord — I need your help with that. There are places where I am still holding on, still keeping score, still carrying something I said I already let go. Free me from that. You forgave me everything on the cross; help me to forgive others the small things I am still clutching. Through Mary, who forgave the world its rejection of her Son, teach me what gracious release looks like. Amen.


If you'd like to share: is there a line of the Our Father that always catches your attention or feels especially alive for you right now?

What About the Wicked?

Read a great blog entry by “Stushie” about “payback” in the form of a quick devotion inspired by a life experience. The intro to his article has a good reminder for many of us who feel wronged or crossed by our neighbor:

Sometimes we are too zealous in our outrage at the world that we want to payback evil with evil. Payback belongs to the Lord; we are meant to love our enemies and forgive those who hurt us.

Amen to that. Of course, I will be one to admit it is more easily said than done. Often times I carry grudges in an effort to “avoid” getting harmed again – but that goes contrary to the whole concept of forgiveness. Forgiveness lets go. And generalizing other people in the future goes contrary to treating our neighbors with love… imagine, receiving others with hostility or suspicion just because of a bad past experience… the cynicism of it all ruins all our future relationships and closes our hearts.

Each day I have prayed through one devotion or another for freedom from the grudges I have carried over the years. I find that the more I reflect on my release from their chains, the more my burden seems lightened. It seems that reliving past wrongdoings is different when you put it in the light of prayer vs. plotting or seeking revenge and payback. There are times that I even look back on the related experiences and noticeably felt that I really didn’t care about them anymore… my feelings were at best neutral and waning on forgetfulness (thank God for that!)

On a closing thought (also from Stushie’s post):

… Help us to do whatever we can do to make this world a better place through the strength of your Love…

I like Stushie’s thoughts on the topic. What is to become of the wicked people who harm us in this world? It’s not up to us. So stop brooding and get on with living and enjoying life!

I’m sure a search for “4 minute devotions” (a similar theme to “10 minutes for God”) may yield more of his posts on various topics related to prayer, life and reflection. Enjoy!

The Unmerciful Servant

Today, while chatting with my wife and after an extended rant about my rough career experiences, she remarked: Why do you keep bringing up what happened in the past? It’s like you can’t let go of what happened to you, no matter how negative it was… and THAT is what may be keeping you from moving ahead with what God has planned for you now.

Very wise indeed. All I wanted to do was vent, but perhaps this was one of my more well-used soap-box speeches. In the past, indiscretions at the hands of past managers have made it difficult for me to do my work and in one case, it unjustly had cost me my job. For some reason, my anger and desire for justice (or revenge) would lead me back to retell and relive the experiences that had cost me so dearly.

My excuse: I simply wanted to remind myself of my past mistakes (in letting my guard down) and I didn’t want to let myself become a victim again.

My wife later added: Leave it up to God. If they have harmed you, they will have their day where they will have to answer for their actions. It isn’t up to you to handle that.

What she didn’t add was the most important lesson that Jesus Christ wishes to deliver to people everywhere: forgive.

Here I am, praying fervently each day for blessings, forgiveness and guidance from God and yet I still have a grudge in my heart against my neighbor. I tell myself time and again that they are forgiven, but that is easier said than done. If that was the case, there would be no need to bring up their name or their “crimes” in conversation or thought for any reason. Forgiven means also forgotten.

In Jesus’s parable of the unmerciful servant (Matthew 18:21-35), a servant begs of his master for mercy and forgiveness of an enormous debt he had owed to him. The master magnanimously forgives the debt only to witness later that same servant unmercifully punish and harass his neighbor for a debt owed to him. The master was enraged and he had his unmerciful servant thrown into prison and punished for his outstanding debt. In Matthew’s gospel, we see that we cannot expect to experience the blessing of God’s grace and forgiveness until we also forgive the ways our neighbors have sinned against us. 

“Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, “I tell you not seven times but seventy-seven times.” (Matthew 18:21-22)

I pray today for the presence of mind and the strength to show mercy towards my neighbors and fellow humans. For whatever ways I have been harmed, I must release myself from holding a grudge and likewise from the desire for revenge or blind justice. Such incidents are totally in the hands of the Father, from whom Jesus Christ delivers a message of peace and forgiveness in response.