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The Weight of Sin and Mercy


“‘Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.’ He who is impatient and irritable does not know himself and the human race, and is unworthy of the name of Christian. . . Irritability of temper proceeds from lack of self-knowledge, from pride, and also from the fact that we do not consider the great corruption of our nature, and know but little the meek and humble Jesus” (St. John of Kronstadt).


The woman of Canaan was desperate. Despite shame and embarrassment, she shouted for help: “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” Christ was silent. The disciples ridiculed her. “Lord help me,” she persisted. Our Lord’s response to the broken woman is hard to bear: “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”


Do we recognize the true weight of our sinfulness? Can we bear the reality of who we are?


We have all seen false humility. Charles Dickens personified this in his famous character Uriah Heep, rubbing his hands together, groveling with bowed head, and muttering: “I am the ‘umblest person going.” People often disguise self-hatred by calling it humility. Psychology Today describes self-hatred in this way: “Continual feelings of inadequacy, guilt, and low self-esteem. People may constantly compare themselves to others, perceive only the negative and ignore the positive, and believe that they will never be ‘good enough.’” This, most certainly, is not Christian humility.


But what do we make of the Canaanite woman? Why would Christ refer to her as a dog, and praise her for agreeing?


Our culture today runs to the opposite extreme. It is ironic. We are a society rife with depression and self-hatred, and we are simultaneously obsessed with self-esteem. Billboards and bumper stickers insist: “YOU ARE ENOUGH.” Fast Food advertisements agree: “YOU DESERVE THIS!” Every team receives a trophy, because we cannot ever let our children feel that they did not try hard enough. God knows, we must not bring up all that horrible, old fashioned talk about repentance and sin . . .


Yet, the Gospel remains unapologetic about the weight of sin.


“The way of the wicked,” Proverbs tells us, “is an abomination to the Lord” (15:9).


God’s response to evil is ruthless: “The iniquity of the house of Israel and Judah is extremely great.” “I will not show pity or spare them,” the Lord says, “I will bring their conduct down on their own heads” (Ezekiel 9:9).


The same passage emphasizes God’s repulsion to anyone who takes sin lightly. He sends an angel to place a mark on the head of each righteous person “who sighs and groans over all the detestable practices committed.” Then the angels sweep through and slay ever man or woman indifferent to sin (Ezekiel 9:3).


If you have not acquired an image of sin yet, Psalm 38 does a solid job drawing out its true colors:


“Thine arrows stick fast in me, and thy hand presseth me sore. There is no health in my flesh, because of thy displeasure; neither is there any rest in my bones, by reason of my sin. For my wickednesses are gone over my head, and are like a sore burden, too heavy for me to bear. My wounds stink and are corrupt, through my foolishness” (Psalm 38:2-5). The psalm ends in desperate prayer: “Forsake me not, O Lord my God . . . Haste thee to help me” (v. 21-22).


Now return to the Canaanite woman. She is on her knees begging for help. She is weeping before the Son of God, archetype of love and compassion. Love responds to her: “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” She returns: “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.’ Then Love praises, ‘Woman, great is your faith!” (Matthew 15:21-28).


There is nothing remotely self-deprecating in this woman. She is not overly pessimistic nor choked up with self-hatred. She is strong and honest. She knows herself for who she is. She sees her sin for what is, and she does not back down. She says ‘yes’ to all the accusations, and insists, “Take me God, even as I am.”


Humility is the crown virtue. It is not self-hatred. It is radical honesty. The humble man knows himself for what he is and knows God for what He is.


The weight of our sin is colossal. We fail to understand sin because we think of it as mere morality. Sin is relational. We have all experienced a strained relationship. When you wrong someone you love, you quickly feel the painful tension. You want intimacy, but there is a wedge between you and her. The weight of it is terrible. This is the nature of all our sin. God loves us personally. We reject him coldly. He offers us paradise. We spit at it and prefer mud. From shame, we cannot bear to look at the face of God. Most of the time, this is the real cause of a lost faith. It is not intellectual; it is emotional.


We are broken. We bleed out our sins all day long. When we are bold enough to admit this something else happens. We can discover the weight of mercy.


As soon as we are honest enough to call a spade a spade, then we can begin to value God’s compassion. We cannot appreciate grace if we do not first appreciate how much we need it. Until we start calling ugliness ugliness, we will never truly cherish beauty. We will never be grateful or joyful, until we see down into the depths of our sin and accept God’s desire to forgive.


For the first time, now, we are ready to love our brother.


“Yes, Lord . . . I am a dog . . . yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”


We are broken truly, and God loves us truly. How should we love one another? Are any of us unstained by the mess in the world? We are all on the same boat, and we are all seasick.


St. John of Kronstadt’s words ring out with such force during Lent. How can we remain impatient or irritable with one another? How can we cling to any trace of unforgiveness or harbor bitterness towards our brother or sister?


“He who is impatient and irritable does not know himself and the human race,” St. John tells us, and then he confesses sweetly. “In saying this, I pronounce judgment against myself, for I am the first of those who are afflicted with impatience and irritability.” The holy man continues, “Irritability of temper proceeds from lack of self-knowledge, from pride, and also from the fact that we do not consider the great corruption of our nature.” We cannot hate when we know “the meek and humble Jesus.”


“Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2-5).


Discover the weight of sin and mercy.


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