Seventy times seven – 29 June 2012

A brother in Scete happened to commit a fault, and the elders assembled, and sent for Abba Moses to join them. He, however, did not want to come. The priest sent him a message, saying: Come, the community of the brethren is waiting for you. So he arose and started off. And taking with him a very old basket full of holes, he filled it with sand, and carried it behind him. The elders came out to meet him and said, What is this, Father? The elder replied: My sins are running out behind me, and I do not see them, and today I come to judge the sins of another! They, hearing this, said nothing to the brother but pardoned him.

That is one of the most famous of all the desert stories. The desert brothers and sisters, in other words, did not gather outside the courthouse to scream and jeer at some convicted criminal, or to inform the media that the sentence is a joke and they have lost faith in the justice system. Abba Moses did not want to see someone suffer, whatever he may have done. Neither did he want to lose sight of the fact that the church is the company of the wounded, fallible and fragile. He knew that a sinful act did not make anyone radically different. Forgiveness is a hot issue. It evokes all manner of reactions. Everyone, I would say without exception if they think about it, has some reason to forgive and to be forgiving. Every time we go to church we pray, Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us. This is incomprehensible to much of the secular world, except to those who have discovered the practical fact that nothing is gained if the road ahead is to be vengeful, full of bitterness and recrimination. To more and more people, justice has come to mean punishment. To more and more contemplatives, punishment, restriction, public humiliation, labelling, rendering someone powerless and placarded as worthless, could scarcely be more contrary to the way of Christ. But before we tackle those huge issues in social ethics, we have first to consult what is going on in our own hearts. There is a need to be still and silent, with all our own memories and anger, disappointments and failures, abandoned hopes, our fears about the past and the future – all of this – along with all that is good... Not to think about it, let alone try to puzzle it out, but simply to let it all down while we remain still. We are the ones who have to change. As Jesus put it, Abide in my love.