MI 7:14-15, 18-20
Shepherd your people with your staff,
the flock of your inheritance,
That dwells apart in a woodland,
in the midst of Carmel.
Let them feed in Bashan and Gilead,
as in the days of old;
As in the days when you came from the land of Egypt,
show us wonderful signs.

Who is there like you, the God who removes guilt
and pardons sin for the remnant of his inheritance;
Who does not persist in anger forever,
but delights rather in clemency,
And will again have compassion on us,
treading underfoot our guilt?
You will cast into the depths of the sea all our sins;
You will show faithfulness to Jacob,
and grace to Abraham,
As you have sworn to our fathers
from days of old.

The monastery bells ring seven times each day to signal when we should rise, gather and pray, work, or devote ourselves to holy leisure. I have been visiting this monastery for about a decade and recently returned for a (mostly) silent retreat. Shortly before mid-day prayer I was in the Garden Room, precariously dangling off the seventh rung of Saint Benedict’s ladder of humility, feeling rather worm-ish as I re-read “But I am a worm and no man, a shame of men and an outcast of the people” (The Rule of Saint Benedict, ch. 7, vs. 52). It requires a special, subtle type of vanity to be capable of basking in your own deep shame while forgetting the mercy of God. Micah 7:14-15,18-20 are an anecdote to this, as are the entire gospels, and The Rule of Saint Benedict, when respected and contemplated as a whole, rather than lightly accepted as wisdom we can prune to justify our own (or our neighbors’) precious wretchedness.

Saint Benedict encourages monks to “live a continuous Lent” (The Rule Saint of Benedict, ch. 49, vs. 1). It’s important to note that he doesn’t tell them to completely forget that Lent ends with Easter. What awaits the end of this penitential season is a season of celebration of the Resurrection of Christ and the defeat of sin and death. Lent concludes with a spectacular revelation that love, joy, peace, and life are infinite and imminent, freely given by a merciful, compassionate God. Micah 7:19 points to this and reassures us that God “will again have compassion on us.”

Guilt and corporal sacrifice (in healthy doses) can be helpful to get things moving in our own personal journeys towards goodness, but love is the final and most important ingredient for our own spiritual transformation into saints—into being fully ourselves. Recognizing our sins is an act of grace, but incomplete and even hazardous if not followed through with a greater acceptance of mercy. In The Name of God is Mercy, Pope Francis says “The Church Fathers teach us that a shattered heart is the most pleasing gift to God. It is a sign that we are conscious of our sins, of the evil we have done, of our wretchedness, and of our need for forgiveness and mercy” (pp. 32). Mercy is not necessarily sentimental, it is not easy to accept, and it is not easy to ask for, because we do not need mercy or any forgiveness unless we are “in the wrong,” just as we do not need courage unless we are afraid. Despite this, mercy is tremendously liberating, when freely given and when fully accepted.

If you have had the courage to do honest examination of conscious and grasp the profound significance of sin, of your own cosmological defiance of the good and even passive participation in the corrupt, personally and systematically—it should break your heart; but it shouldn’t paralyze you. As my spiritual director used say “keep moving towards love.” That journey, like most, is messy and non-linear; it’s a journey on a narrow, winding road up a seven story mountain and its signposts point in the direction of a love that is patient and kind (Cor:13:4-8) and merciful; if it is none of these, it is not love.

In Love alone is Credible Hans Urs von Balthasar states “If the prodigal son had not believed that the father's love was already waiting for him, he would not have been able to make the journey home.” Lent is part of our journey home to God. We are the Prodigal Son, sometimes more than once, sometimes annually in new and awkward ways as our own life journeys evolve, and Lent is a special time for reflection and penance, but it is not justified in dower penance, but a hopeful, even joyful embrace of the adventure, even its occasionally pronounced self-induced heartbreak, and even if it feels like a very steep uphill climb some days. We must never lose sight of the radical truth that “God is Love” (Jn 1:4) – keep following the signposts towards that unconditional love, God, and helping our neighbors, strangers, and enemies up towards the top along the way until as many of us get there as possible. He “will cast into the depths of the sea all our sins” (Mc 7:19). He is waiting to embrace us, fully, in our wounds and even on the days we’re feeling more of a worm than a woman.

It is easy to lose control of immeasurable metrics of error, even if venial, and wallow in the infinitude in our mistakes. Lent is a season full of graced movement towards being better servants of God, but it’s also a season when the seeds of scrupulosity tend to bear their strange, bitter fruit of self-deprecation and anxiety. I have grappled with bouts of scrupulosity, it’s practically a natural psychological disposition, and I have found that a good way to defeat it is out-scruple myself. Scrupulosity can become its own critique and end “divided against itself” “brought to desolation” (Mt 12:25-26) when you come to the full realization that you are, indeed, even more in the wrong than your already examined terribleness if you do not accept that God is infinitely loving and merciful (and 100% rooting for you and ready to pick you up along the way! This is good news!) If you keep going, even with scrupulosity, you can get it to negate itself (just please don’t get lost and poke out your eye in the process, there is historical precedent).

You and me; the magnificent creations of God, the neighbor, the downcast, the outcast, the sinner, the worm, cannot escape being personally, profoundly loved by The Creator of this magnificent universe and beyond. Pope Francis says “He [Jesus] sends them forth into the world, asking them to live the logic of love,” (The Name of God is Mercy, pp. 93); God’s logic is a logic of love, it’s not our own but it’s one we have been called to embody and reflect. Let’s embrace this compassionate logic with gratitude. Let’s sacrifice that strange, subtle vanity required to forget God’s mercy and work towards embracing that unconditional love for ourselves, our neighbors, and beyond—it will change everything. “The kingdom of God is in your heart” (Lk 17:20-21) and it is patient, and it is kind.

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Benedict, & Fry, T. (1981). Rb 1980: The Rule of St. Benedict in Latin and English with Notes and Thematic Index. (Ch. 7 vs. 42; Ch. 41, vs. 1 ) Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press.

Balthasar, H. U. von, & Schindler, D. C. (2015). Love Alone is Credible. San Francisco: Ignatius Press. Retrieved from Google Books https://books.google.com/books?id=dPuaDgAAQBAJ&printsec=frontcover&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q&f=false.

Pope Francis, Tornielli, A., Stanksy, O. (2016) The Name of God is Mercy. (pp. 32, pp. 93) New York, NY: Random House.

United States Conference of Catholic Bishops. (2015). The New American Bible. Washington, District of Columbia.