The Bishop Writes

(From the Feb. 24, 2000 edition of the Inland Register)

It was a day like none other. We shall not see its like again. I am speaking of Dec. 31, 1999, the day the human community crossed the threshold of the year 2000. Hour by hour we watched as successive time zones advanced into the new year. But real-time communications facilitated a sense of world community. As midnight drew near in each time zone, crowds in later time zones united for the final countdown and subsequent explosion of millennial exuberance. In the bursting haloes of fireworks, we could see the uplifting of human hopes and the common aspiration of all peoples for a world of peace. We are different nations, cultures and ethnic groups, but on that day we were drawn together as one community of humankind.

But let us not delude ourselves about the human situation. The mere dawning of the year 2000 changes nothing in our history or in the human condition. Sadly, we carry into this new era old conflicts, not merely from last year or even recent decades, but conflicts rooted in centuries of hostility. The evening news brings into our living rooms images of bombings, political uprisings and desperate refugees as they flee destruction. But much conflict is closer to home. In the Spokane area, negotiations between Kaiser Aluminum and the Steel Workers’ Union are at an impasse. How much longer can emotional and physical stress be contained before erupting with tragic consequences?

Our region has not been immune to the fatal violence that has broken out in high schools across the country. Behind the doors of the sanctuary of the home lurk hidden stories of frustration, disappointment and helplessness that lead to chaos and even physical assault. An international peace keeping force might restrain Albanians and Serbs from acting out their historic enmity; a judge’s restraining order might keep a violent parent away from a terrified spouse and children. But this is not peace. This is only a tenuous cessation of open hostility. What remains and what cannot be overcome by force of arms or even by shrewd negotiations are the dark sentiments of the heart: anger, hatred, vengefulness, fear, self-righteousness. These infections of the human spirit remain unresolved. The wounds that cry out for healing seem to be torn open again and again.

As we enter into the celebration of Lent in this Year of Jubilee, I wish to share with you some principles that our Catholic tradition sets before us concerning the great graces of repentance and reconciliation. These principles summon us to justly, respectfully and faithfully acknowledge our failures, commit ourselves to practical acts of repentance and to maintain a posture of hope for the future of humankind: the Kingdom of God.

For those who profess the Christian faith, the advent of the year 2000 is weighted with particular significance. By the traditional reckoning, this is 2000 A.D., Anno Domini, the year of the Lord. The Holy Father, John Paul II, designated midnight of last Christmas Eve as the inauguration of the great Year of Jubilee to accent the deeper truth of this moment in history. It is not the mere passage of 2,000 years and the turning of the page of a calendar that we celebrate, but the birth in time of the one who is from all eternity.

In his prayer for the celebration of the Great Jubilee, the Holy Father expressed the hope of humankind:

By your grace, O Father, may the Jubilee Year be a time of deep conversion and of joyful return to you. May it be a time of reconciliation between people, and of peace restored among nations, a time when swords are beaten into plowshares and the clash of arms gives way to songs of peace.

The hope of humanity that seemed to rise up in the colossal fireworks displays of New Year’s Eve celebrations is already present and at work in the heart of human history. But as we cross the threshold of the new millennium, it may be possible for the Church to lead the human community in a renewal of this hope. Truly, this is good news. But if we are to welcome this good news and live it to the full, we cannot disregard the first word of its announcement: repent. “This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand! Repent, and believe in the gospel!” (Mark 1, 15). Metanoia, the great gospel term that means a change of mind or change of heart, is the key to the door of the good news: The Kingdom is at hand.

We are created in the image of God. The brutal wounding of this image is one of the sad stories of human sinfulness. This did not result in God’s rejection of creation, but in a new and surpassing self-revelation. “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son” (John 3, 16). “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John 1, 15). The age-old alienation of the world from God, the creature from the creator, has its resolution in the incarnation. God has come to us as one like us. In the sign of the cross on Calvary we behold not only the reconciliation of heaven and earth, but in the outstretched arms of the crucified one, we recognize the divine embrace that draws humanity together. The very cornerstone of human solidarity is God’s love for humankind made manifest in Jesus Christ.

God’s love for the world is the foundation of our desire to seek and serve the common good. We do not live for ourselves. Like Christ, our purpose is to become servants of the Lord for the salvation of the world. The Word became flesh and lived his life in ordinary, unremarkable circumstances: in the midst of a family; in manual labor; in the traditions and wisdom of his culture; in the worship of God. But we see in the words and the work of Jesus, in the life of the apostolic community and in the evolving tradition of the Christian faith the infusion of a new spirit and dynamism into the heart of humanity. We bring this leavening influence to the culture and conditions of our time. The economy, the arts, the political situation, education, law, the environment and the family are the theater of human action. And we are in the midst of this with our sense of and commitment to the common good and the right of universal participation. No one can be placed outside the common good. The gift of our vision of human solidarity compels us to recognize and reject the sins we commit as groups, as societies, as governments — perhaps even as faith communities. Racism, sexism, and class privilege are examples.

To develop respect and love for one another, we must recognize the impact of our actions and attitudes upon our neighbor. How destructive it is for our judgmental spirit to tear someone down. Right and wrong, truth and falsehood, honor and dishonor reside in every person, but every person must be loved. When we operate without regard for this first principle, the inevitable result will be division and hostility between persons. This division expands into the bitter ideological polarization that permeates society. In our present circumstances we must sadly acknowledge that such polarization infects politics, making attainment of the common good all but impossible. To our great dismay and even disgrace, this attitude of uncompromising rigidity, meanness and contempt infects our Church, sapping its energy, diminishing its credibility and distorting its message.

Our response to our sinfulness must be tears of repentance, divesting ourselves of attachment to possessions and power, and redirecting our efforts to loving service of those who have been harmed by our own sin, the sins of others and the sin of the world. The spirit of this year of the Great Jubilee hinges upon our own metanoia, a heartfelt repentance that draws us into an authentic celebration of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. I ask every Catholic in our Diocese to celebrate this great sacrament of forgiveness and healing this Season of Lent. I ask that our pastors and parishes make ample opportunity for the communal celebration of this Sacrament according to Rite II. Rite II provides several or many penitents the opportunity of individual confession and absolution. These celebrations are powerful acts of solidarity. We stand before God and beside one another as sinners. Our very presence is already an act of contrition: I am a sinner; I need forgiveness, and I need to forgive as I hope to be forgiven. What consolation and confidence it brings to me when I behold you and so many others gathered with me in common confession of our sin. The process of Rite II for Reconciliation also provides for the individual acknowledgment of sin to a confessor. Of necessity this is a brief encounter in which sins of a more serious nature need to be identified. Or, a person may confess a habit or tendency with which they struggle and need assistance. Nonetheless, this moment of self-disclosure fittingly testifies to the truth that I am a sinner and I acknowledge my participation in the sinfulness of the world.

For some persons who have struggled for a long time with a specific sin or who have not celebrated this sacrament for years, a longer time with the confessor may be more helpful and advisable. I ask pastors to schedule ample opportunity for individual confessions, and for all priests to be alert and available to persons who may directly or indirectly approach you for this sacrament.

Preaching on the Sacrament of Reconciliation should have priority of place in this Year of Jubilee. What better way is there to experience the meaning of the Jubilee than to be welcomed home to the house of our Father and to cancel the debts of resentment and rejection that we hold against another? This sacrament in a wonderful and powerful moment truly means forgiveness, expressed in a manner we can all understand and take to heart. We reconcile with God, with ourselves, and with our neighbors.

I wish to conclude with thoughts expressed by Bishop Carlos Belo of East Timor, who received the honor of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1996:

To make peace a reality we must be flexible as well as wise. We must truly recognize our own faults and move to change ourselves in the interests of making peace.… Let us banish anger and hostility, vengeance and other dark emotions, and transform ourselves into humble instruments of peace.... The people in East Timor are not uncompromising. They are not unwilling to forgive and overcome their bitterness. On the contrary they yearn for peace — within their community, and within the region. They wish to build bridges with their Indonesian brothers and sisters. They wish to find ways of creating harmony and tolerance.

We must never preclude the possibility of good will on the part of others, even those who have brought suffering upon us. No human being should be “demonized.” And it is possible for any and all of us to pursue, or return to, nobler ways of acting; to live according to our highest ideals.

I pray that these words ring true for the people of East Timor. I pray that they ring true for the people of Eastern Washington.

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