Daily reflection _ 5th sunday of Lent

OPENS A NEW WAY   
Christ did not say to the adulterous woman, "Well, that's alright, it doesn't matter."  It's not all right. Her sin does matter. Rather, He told her, "Go, and from now on do not sin any more" (Jn 8:11). Jesus makes clear that her actions were wrong, and frankly, sinful. But, He did not say that she, as a person, was bad. Christ wanted to put an end to the act.  
Last Sunday, you may remember, we began to give some reflective consideration to the practice of a virtue upon which, we can safely say, our very salvation depends. And that, of course, was the virtue of forgiveness. We were invited to begin that reflection with the parable of the Prodigal Son, and the eloquent, inspired Image of God, our Father, which the parable draws for us. The father bears no grudge, harbors no resentment, and does not seek revenge on the one who has offended him. He is one who eagerly runs down the road to welcome back his prodigal son and attaches no importance to the injury that was done. On the contrary, he attaches infinite importance to the reconciliation, and the fact that a new beginning is always possible in any relationship, no matter what the circumstances may be.
So, as fond as we may be of the Image of God as the stern, just, Punisher of sinners, and the Judge Who will see to it that all those who have done wrong will finally get what is coming to them; this simply is not the picture God draws of Himself. Rather, God's self-portrait is one of unconditional, compassionate forgiveness, offered to anyone, anytime - a truly limitless mercy. But we would be mistaken, indeed, if we stopped there and did not see in this same consoling Image, a real challenge. After all, the parable does not stop with the father welcoming home his prodigal son. The parable continues to portray, very vividly, the father pleading with his other son to do the same.
As you may recall, the parable concludes with the truly sad image of the second son standing outside of his father's feast because he was unwilling to follow his father's example. One can truly see that the message is very clear. God's table will be filled, not only by those who have been forgiven - those who have been shown mercy and kindness - but also by those who have, themselves, offered forgiveness and compassion to others.
The Gospel story, this Sunday, offers us another portrayal for reflection. It is a story, I think, that we can use as an effective springboard in our attempts to come to an understanding of just what the virtue of forgiveness must practically mean for us. And I think that understanding has to begin with the insight that forgiveness is, first of all, an attitude. It is a stance that we take toward every human being, everywhere, all the time. This attitude is formed by a couple of pretty basic facts about our Faith. God created us. He created us just as He wanted us to be. Good! We were created with goodness far beyond our own ability to perceive. If we truly realized this, truly believed it, then it would become almost impossible for us to condemn anyone. To do so would be unthinkable. For us to refuse to forgive would be, in fact, saying to God, "Well, You were really wrong about so and so. You may have thought You created him good, but I know better. This person is really worthless."
Mind you, I don't say that we must not, at times, judge prudently. I say we must not condemn. Indeed, we are all called to make moral judgments. We certainly must see, and clearly proclaim, the difference between right and wrong. If an act is wrong, it must be named as such, and unmistakably so. The point is that we must judge actions, not persons. That, after all, is what Christ did in the Gospels. Christ did not say to the adulterous woman, "Well, that's alright, it doesn't matter."  It's not all right. Her sin does matter. Rather, He told her, "Go, and from now on do not sin any more" (Jn 8:11). Jesus makes clear that her actions were wrong, and frankly, sinful. But, He did not say that she, as a person, was bad. Christ wanted to put an end to the act.
An authentic practice of Christianity inevitably, relentlessly, orients us toward what is yet to be. It draws us into the future, ultimately, into an infinite future. And to the extent that we resist that, to the extent that we allow ourselves to morbidly focus our attention on what had been, or what we might face in the future, to the extent that we close ourselves off from the grace of the Resurrection - the grace of new life - we become less Christ-like. May we have a readiness and a joyful eagerness to see in ourselves, and in others, all of the goodness of which we are capable. Paul's words present such forgiveness as a challenge. With St. Paul, we who have been forgiven much, "forget what lies behind and strain forward to what lies ahead" (Phil 3:13).
Like any virtue, forgiveness is an act that flows from a right attitude. Maybe we need to send a letter, make a phone call, give a handshake, or a friendly smile. This is our challenge. This is the heart of it, to act toward those who have offended us as though they had not.
This opens a new way for us!