Thursday, 8/11/22
Lectionary Gospel reading for today: Matthew 18+
I have always read this somewhat unpleasant parable about money and the principles of debt and repayment, compassion, forgiveness and strict justice and put those principles into a closed mental box. I found the parable unpleasant because the notion of Someone turning another human being over to torturers, regardless of the crime, inhuman. However, there is Jesus telling this parable approvingly and presumably, I assume, seeing no fault in the master’s behavior in the end. The wise thing to do, humanly speaking, would have been to think about the parable a bit more; but why would a retired English teacher do that, look more deeply into the text, understand what the text—a parable after all—might truly be about, look beneath the surface, so to speak?
No! Too much to ask? Then I came to today’s Magnificat commentary on the lectionary readings for today [Ezekiel and Matthew] by Mother Angelica, never one of my favorite people after seeing her on EWTN television frequently. In fact once I downloaded a program where she recited the rosary; I immediately deleted it because I couldn’t stand to watch her and found it impossible to keep my thoughts centered on what is at the heart of the rosary. I am not a good enough person, unfortunately, to soldier on and benefit spiritually from the effort. I deleted it! Then I found another one, downloaded it and haven’t yet watched it once.
What I read and understood from “Mother” Angelica’s commentary on Christ’s love transformed my entire understanding of the parable. I shall copy her commentary below, I hope.
FIRST, the Gospel:
A reading from
the holy Gospel according to Matthew18:21–19:1
Peter approached Jesus and asked him, “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus answered, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times. 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.’ Moved with compassion the master of that servant let him go and forgave him the loan. When that servant had left, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a much smaller amount. He seized him 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 his brother from his heart.”
SECOND, the commentary:
Forgiven and Forgiving
Every day, my Jesus, I learn by some situation or experience of my great need for you. When I try to be patient on my own, my patience is forced and short-lived. It is obvious to everyone that I am desperately trying to be patient. When I raise my mind and heart to you, dear Jesus, and see you so serenely patient, my soul drinks in that spirit of patience like a cool breeze on a humid night. Your patience penetrates my being, and only then am I truly patient. It takes so long to learn that I can bear fruit only in you.
How very much you love me! Love is proven by sacrifice, and you have proven your love for me. This realization makes me feel small, for I am forced to admit that my love for you is very little. I run from sacrifice and am afraid of pain. Death at times seems like a dark tunnel to be traveled, and the future seems bleak. When I compare my attitude with yours, I realize that in myself I have nothing to offer you. The only claim I have is your love for me. When I think of that love, I feel a sudden surge of courage to face the future. Even death becomes merely the beautiful moment when the One who loves and the one who is loved meet face-to-face.
Lord Father, I enter into your compassionate Spirit and try to drink deeply of your merciful love. My memory smarts with the remembrance of past offenses, and my soul is pained by the anger of yesterdays—days in the past that bring tears and sadness. Every time I think they are gone, they return with renewed vigor, and I realize I have not grown in compassion and forgiveness. I put my memory into your compassionate mercy, and I ask you to cover its wounds with the healing balm of your mercy. Let my soul sink deep into that fathomless ocean of mercy and return to me renewed, healed, and refreshed with love for everyone and malice toward none.
Lord Father, heal my memory…. Sometimes an event that happened years ago suddenly looms up and the hurt returns, and with it anger and resentment. Jesus told us to be as compassionate and merciful as you are. I find this very hard, and yet why should I? Have I not been the recipient of your mercy and forgiveness? Is it not a greater thing for me to offend God than for a fellow creature to offend me? You forgive and forget so completely and so graciously. Let me bury all my unpleasant memories in your ocean of mercy and drown them forever in those peaceful waters. May the phantoms of yesterday never take up residence in today and destroy my tomorrow. Give me hope, Lord Father, to trust in your forgiveness, and let me always give my neighbor the benefit of the doubt so I may forgive him from my heart.
Mother Angelica of the Annunciation, p.c.p.a.
Mother Angelica († 2016) was a Poor Clare nun and founder of the Eternal Word Television Network. / From Praying with Mother Angelica: Meditations on the Rosary, the Way of the Cross, and Other Prayers. © 2016, EWTN Publishing, Inc. Distributed by Sophia Institute Press, Manchester, NH. Used with permission.
How ironic, “Meditations on the Rosary: of course it would be, and they say God doesn’t have a sense of humor and that Christ never laughed. I suspect that if God did laugh the cosmos would fall to pieces, absolutely crumble, and the joy would be overwhelming.
The first paragraph of her mediation starts with the kind of syrupy religious language that I find it difficult to relate to: “my Jesus,” etc. [I know, not that bad here]. I read on, and then I saw what her insight was and how profound it was, and why had I never seen it before?
It is the matter of compassion, love and forgiveness: God’s love and compassion are cosmic in scale; mine are very small. God forgives me of my very large debt; I turn around and hold a grudge against someone who has hurt me a little in some way. We see the hurts around us all the time and hold onto them. Meanwhile God continues to pour out his love and forgiveness on us, his compassion. Attitudes, principles! And I thought it was about money all this time!
Image: Edith Stein: St. Theresa Benedicta of the Cross and St. Theresa of Avila. Edith Stein was a young Jewish woman who was taken to Auschwitz with her people and died in a gas chamber there: 1942. She was 24 years old and a nun.
