Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. In the spring of my senior year of high school, my friend group decided to go out to breakfast after our last final exam of high school. The exam started at 8 or so, and finished by 10. The restaurant we decided to frequent wasn’t far from the school. We all got in our cars and drove there individually. For whatever reason, even though I knew where I was going, I followed another car that did not. It was able to get over into the far right lane of a four lane, one way highway and turn into a parking lot to go back on a perpendicular street. I, however, was in the second lane from the right, and panicked a little. So, without much thought and without looking, I just decided to make a right turn into a parking lot from my current lane. I heard the screeching of tires, the honking of a horn, and my adrenaline rushed through my body. Somehow, no doubt due to my guardian angel who was working extra that morning, the car I had just cut off did not hit me, and I was able to turn back towards the restaurant and arrive safely, albeit with a heart rate that was more congruent with sprinting a 200-meter race.
But, St. Paul, whom St. Thomas Aquinas does and we can refer to as the Apostle, continued: “But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me has not been ineffective.” Paul did not ignore his past, but neither did he let it define his present. He acknowledged his past, but recognized that the grace of God had changed him, and he was no longer that man from his past.
We all have a past. Maybe it’s bad driving, like in my example from the beginning of this homily. Maybe it’s something not that bad. Maybe it’s something far worse. We cannot change the past, but we shouldn’t live in the past, either. God does not want us to allow our past sins to control our present and our future. If we repent from them and convert, that is, turn towards God, our past can remain and education for us, rather than a life-sentence of guilt.
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| Dr. Anthony Fauci at a Senate Hearing |
So if we have acknowledged our sins and confessed them, we don’t forget them, but we don’t live in them, either. The enemy often likes to remind us of our past sins. But if our sins our forgiven, then in God’s eyes, the sins themselves are gone. Might there be consequences for those sins that come with us into the present? Sure. But the sins are gone. As King David sang in Psalm 102: “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our sins from us.” If we have made a good confession, God’s not coming back to us to remind us of all the bad things we have done. We will have to deal with the temporal effects due to sin, either on this earth (which the saints say is much preferred and much easier) or in Purgatory (which is still not bad, because Purgatory always leads to heaven). But the sins themselves are gone.
We, though, have to accept that forgiveness. Some scholars say that the sin against the Holy Spirit is not being willing to accept God’s forgiveness, which is why it is the only unforgivable sin. If we don’t accept God’s mercy, then God won’t force it on us, which leaves us in sin, rather than restoring us to grace, as God desires.
We cannot erase our past, much as we would like to at times. We should learn from our past, especially when we have sinned and done wrong. But we should not drag our past into the present, at least not when we’ve given those sins to God through sacramental confession. That is a yoke too heavy to carry, a yoke the Lord does not desire for us. He desires us to carry His yoke, which is mercy, a burden truly light and easy. Open yourselves up to God’s mercy and live in the freedom of those forgiven by God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

