The Joy of Forgiveness and the Seven Deadly Sins

by Jim Wallis 03-27-2014 | 11:12am

I live in Washington D.C., a city in which mistakes are messaged and shortcomings are spun. True confession and true repentance do not occur — unless it is politically advantageous. Naturally, cynicism runs rampant.

In this environment, though we all know our own weaknesses, grace is rarely offered for failures.

Which is why Lent is such an important season on the Christian calendar. It is an opportunity to pause and reflect, to examine our hearts, and to acknowledge the ways in which we have fallen short. But we don’t confess our failures to a public waiting to crucify us. Instead, we confess our sins to one who loves us and was willing to be crucified in order to reconcile us once and for all.

Lent is rarely talked about as a celebration, but it is an opportunity to revel in the joy of forgiveness.

In the 32nd Psalm, David describes this joy, saying, “Happy are those whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Happy are those to whom the Lord imputes no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.” Because though we must do the painful work of self-examination, as Christians we do so knowing that in Jesus, we have “a great high priest who has passed through the heavens” (Hebrews 4:14). This high priest is able to sympathize with our weaknesses, interceding for us and offering mercy and grace when we confess our sin

Here at Sojourners, we’ve come up with several ways to help you in your Lenten observance. On Wednesday, April 16 at 4:45 EST, I’ll offer a Lenten reflection called “The Power of the Cross” for BBC Radio. And currently, we’re featuring a blog series that explores The Seven Deadly Sins: Pride, Lust, Gluttony, Wrath, Sloth, Greed, and Envy. Some of our writers reflect on the way they have battled a particular sin and other writers explore the theology behind the sins. But all bravely offer their own public confessions, inviting us to join them in reflection and turning away from those sins and turning toward God instead.

I hope that you’ll join us in celebrating the joy forgiveness this Lenten season.

http://sojo.net/blogs/2014/03/20/seven-deadly-sins-playlist

The Journey

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice–

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

“Mend my life!”

each voice cried.

But you didn’t stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do–

determined to save

the only life you could save.

Storytelling can be a way to reflect deeper into our spiritual selves. Our stories and the stories of those among us can help us to see things differently and open us up to possibilities. As we tell and listen to stories, we can re-imagine and re-frame our joys and our sorrows connecting our personal story to the divine story.

Here is a story for reflection:

An old man lived in a village in China. He was a farmer in a poor, isolated village in the mountains. 

One day he took a meager harvest from his garden and traveled far in hopes of selling it.

After a few days, he returned to the village with an old horse that he received in trade from his harvest.

When the villagers saw the horse, they said to the old man: “This horse can help you plow your fields.  How lucky you are to have the only horse in the village.” And the old man said: WE SHALL SEE.

At the end of a long day of work, the old man accidentally left the gate open and the horse wandered away. When the villagers heard this, they came to the old man and said: “We are sorry for your bad luck.” And the old man said: WE SHALL SEE.

After a few days, the horse came back with a beautiful stallion.  When the villagers saw this, they said to the old man:  “You should rejoice, now you have two horses. You are so fortunate.” And the old man said: WE SHALL SEE.

The old man had a son. The son decided to ride the stallion. While riding the stallion, he was thrown from the horse. The son broke his leg so badly that the doctor told him he will always walk with a limp. When the villagers heard his, they went to the old man and said: “We are so sorry to hear about your son. What a terrible misfortunate this is.” And the old man said: WE SHALL SEE. 

In a few weeks, the Emperor came through the town with an army of soldiers. War had erupted in his empire. He ordered all the young men to join him in battle. Because the old man’s son walked with a limp, the Emperor excused him. When all the young men left the village with the Emperor and his army, the villagers went to the old man and said: “You are so lucky that your son walks with a limp.” And the old man said: WE SHALL SEE.

and the story continues…. 

What does this story tell us? Some reflections:

• Live in the present. We don’t know what’s in the future or how actions affect the future.
• Live one day at a time.
• Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift, that’s why it’s called the present.
• Other people’s perception of your situation may be different than your own.
• Life is full of unpredictability. Our first reaction may be different than ultimate reality.
• Your spirituality affects your day-to-day life and your outlook and attitude toward life.
• Each of our stories is part of a larger story. We connect with life and things beyond ourselves.

Wrestling with God During Lent

As I sat and listened to my friend Jim while we sipped our early morning coffee, I was reminded that second half of life struggles were different than the first half of life struggles. Not easier, just different.

We build our container in the first half of life – and all the struggles that go along with it. In the second half of life, we find the contents for that container – and all the struggles that go along with it.

Jim and I were finding the contents – we struggle with relationships, uncertainty, change, boredom, and failures. We even struggle with our successes.

Sometimes we move toward these struggles and other times, we go around, above, below, near, past, anything to avoid them. There are times when we get close only to turn back.

Struggling or wrestling with something or someone is difficult, so it is not surprising that we turn back.  As we struggle, we often encounter fear. Fear is part of the struggle, its part of being alive and its something we all share. It is said that fear is the natural reaction as we move toward the truth.

While struggling or wrestling can be difficult, it can also move us through and toward something. This something can be a deeper understanding of ourselves and our relationship with God.

In his books, The Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality and Prayer: Our Deepest Longing, Ronald Rolheiser, OMI shares a story to help us see that wrestling and struggling with God is part of our journey.

The story refers to Nikos Kazantzakis, the author of Zorba the Greek,whowas a deeply religious man. Kazantzakis was an artist, a seeker and ferociously independent. He was often referred to as mystical. Kazantzakis had deep interior struggles in his relationship with God. At times, he found himself obedient and at other times, he found himself resistant.

In his memoir, Report to Greco, Kazantzakis reveals a personal story about a summer he spent in a monastery as a young man.  While in the monastery,

he has a series of conversations with an old monk. During one of these conversations, he asks the monk if he still wrestles with the devil.

The monk tells Kazantzakis that he no longer wrestles with the devil – he has grown old and the devil has grown old – and the devil no longer has any strength. The monk reveals that he now wrestles with God. Kazantzakis asks the monk: You wrestle with God and hope to win? The monk replied: no, I wrestle with God and hope to lose.

Struggling with God can move us into a deeper and more mature kind of relationship. In the end, our real struggle is with God. In the book of Genesis, we see that Jacob wrestles for an entire night with a Spirit. In the morning, it is revealed that the Spirit is God. Rolhesier shares: “What a perfect icon for prayer. A human being and God, wrestling in the dust of this earth.”

In the end Jacob confronts his weaknesses and his failures while facing God. It is in his wrestling and struggling with God that he is able to receive God’s blessings. We learn that Jacob’s life, like our life, is not easy.

Richard Rohr, OFM writes: “Wrestling with God, with life, and with ourselves is necessary. The blessing usually comes in a wounding of some sort and for most of us it is an entire life of limping along to finally see the true and real blessing of our life.”

We may see our wounds, our challenges, and our weaknesses as defeats. Yet our perseverance through them can bless us, and we may, like Jacob, encounter God in the struggle.

As Jim and I get up to leave, I rally for a second round of iced coffee to fill my empty container as I move toward the day searching for other contents.