The Forgiveness Sins through the Blood of Christ – Sermon by Father Levine

Fr. Joseph Levine; Holy Family Catholic Church and Missions, Burns, Oregon; October 20, 2024

The Lord was pleased to crush him in infirmity.

Hard words. Who is the Lord? God. Whom was he pleased to crush. Jesus Christ, the Son of God. How? On the Cross. That is the divine decree.

On the other side we hear, If he gives his life as an offering for sin, he shall see his descendants in a long life and the will of the Lord shall be accomplished through him. Who is this making his life an offering for sin? Jesus Christ, the Son of God, conforming his human will to the divine decree calling for him to be “crushed.”

Why does the prophet, foreseeing the Cross in the light of God, say “if”? Was there some doubt? Was it possible that Jesus would fail to do the very thing for which he came?

No, the coming event was not doubtful; the Son of God could not fail in his purpose, but his human will remained free, because that is the nature of man. The meaning of this “if” was expressed by Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, when he prayed, My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me, nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt. (Mt 26:39)

Then he went out from the Garden to be crushed: he was betrayed by his friend, Judas, condemned as a blasphemer by the high priest and the Sanhedrin, spit upon and buffeted by the servants, witnessed the denial of his friend, Peter, spent the night in prison, was dragged before Pontius Pilate, scourged and crowned with thorns after Pilate already had declared him innocent, watched as the crowd chose a murderous brigand over himself for release, condemned to crucifixion by Pilate, laden with a heavy cross and led to the place of execution, where he was crucified between two criminals, and then as he hung naked upon the Cross he heard the jeers of the high priests, the soldiers, the criminals, and the passersby, while gazing upon the affliction of his own Mother. So, he hung there until the end, not the moment when the violence would naturally have brought about his death, but the moment in which he chose to hand over his spirit, laying down his life of his own accord, after crying out in a loud voice, It is finished. (Jn 19:30)

His suffering was finished; the will of the Lord was accomplished; his work of redemption complete. Yet, he rose again from the dead, has ascended to the right hand of the Father, and if we are among the faithful who live in the grace of God, we are counted among his offspring, and if like him, we persevere to the end, we shall see him in a long life – eternal life.

The Lord was pleased to crush him in infirmity.

But why? Was all this really necessary?

Let’s begin with this thought: pain unjustly inflicted merits the punishment of pain justly inflicted.

We instinctively grasp this; it is what lies behind an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. (cf. Ex 21:23-25) Indeed, many times I have heard good Christians express a sentiment about the terrible punishment deserved by someone who has committed a terrible crime. That is the instinct of retributive justice.

We might think that Jesus did away with all that, but what he really did was forbid the spirit of vengeance; it not right for the injured party to hold hatred in his heart or to seek personal vengeance as a remedy for his injury, but rather for a proper judge to bring the malefactor to justice, even if the literal retribution of an eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth is mitigated.

So St. Paul, writes about the civil authority, If you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain; he is the servant of God to execute his wrath on the wrongdoer. (Rm 13:4)

Indeed, from our childhood, if we have done wrong, we know that we deserve punishment. If we receive what we deserve, we might rebel against it, we might complain, but deep down we know that it is right.

Then, we can take another step. If we have ever had the awareness, “I did this and it was wrong,” we know how painful that awareness is, even if no other human being knows it; we want to avoid the thought, to flee from it, like Adam and Eve hiding amid the trees of the garden. (cf. Gen3:8) I would dare say that if we really thought about it, we would be willing to undergo any physical pain if that could somehow free our conscience from the awareness that what we did was wrong. If we really thought about it … instead what we usually try to do is deny the wrongdoing to ourselves or hide from it somehow. As a result, we end up doing even worse things, digging our hole deeper. How much evil in the world is caused by unrepentant sin!

Nevertheless, I have spoken only about the bare awareness of having done wrong, but when we bring this in relation to God we have, “I did what was wrong and it offended God. I have offended God.”

Now, we might think, “Yes, but it does really hurt God.”

Back in the days of kings there used to be a crime called laesae maiestatis – wounded majesty. Even a failed traitor would be guilty of the crime; even though he did no actual harm to the king, his very attempt was an act of contempt of royal majesty and honor, and was an attack not just on the king, but on the whole kingdom dependent upon him. The offense against God is like that failed attempt of treason, only against an infinitely greater king.

Now, we really run into a problem. That offense merits infinite pain but infinite pain could never wipe out the offense. No amount of pain we could ever suffer could ever pay the debt of our sin against God. We could, like Adam and Eve, try to hide from the reality, but if we are ever brought face to face with the reality it would be the most terrible pain we could suffer, knowing that by our own fault we had offended our good creator and separated ourselves from him. On the day of judgment, that knowledge and accompanying pain will be inescapable.

Now, if God just said, “I forgive you” we would still know that the “debt” so to speak had not been paid, the damage done had not been undone.

The Lord was pleased to crush him in infirmity.

This crushing with infirmity, combined with the free self-offering is very different, because this refers to Jesus Christ, the Son of God made man. The Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Is 53:6) Because he is the Son of God, coequal and coeternal with the Father, his least action or suffering voluntarily accepted has infinite worth before God. Because he is a man like us in all things but sin, he is also capable of acting on our behalf as a representative of the whole human race. He came to give his life as a ransom for many. His suffering is more than enough to pay the debt of our sins, individually and altogether. His suffering is more than enough to wipe the whole slate clean. “Blood that but one drop of has the power to win all the world forgiveness from its world of sin.” (“Adoro te devote,” translated by Gerard Manley Hopkins, SJ)

One drop of blood would have been enough, but Jesus was not content with the minimum, he wanted to make known the extreme malice of sin and the unlimited generosity of God’s love in atoning for and forgiving our sin.

The forgiveness of sins. How great and wonderful that is!

Let’s go back to that terrible awareness: “I did what was wrong and it offended God. I have offended God.”

Now, consider an adult, who was never baptized, who has that awareness and he comes with faith and repentance to baptism, the one baptism for the forgiveness of sins. It is all wiped away. Through the waters of baptism what Christ did once for all on the Cross touches him very concretely, here and now. If he receives the effect of baptism not just in the depth of his soul, but if it transforms his awareness, as it should, he will say, “Yes, I did what was wrong and I offended God, but through the shedding of his Blood, Jesus Christ has paid the debt and wiped away my sins. I have been forgiven.” The great pain that was there, in the awareness of having offended God, has been transformed; the pain is no longer there and in its place there is the awareness of having received an amazing gift. What joy! Where there was once sin, the Holy Spirit now dwells in the soul.

The infant who is baptized has the debt received from Adam wiped away and receives the gift of the Holy Spirit together with sanctifying grace but must be guided as he grows to discover and become aware of the great gift he has received.

Yet, after baptism, we still are faced with the battle against our own weakness and inclination to sin. Alas, we often fall back into sin, sometimes small, venial sins, sometimes mortal sins that drive away the Holy Spirit and destroy the life of grace. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches: “If the Church has the power to forgive sins, then Baptism cannot be her only means of using the keys of the Kingdom of heaven received from Jesus Christ. The Church must be able to forgive all penitents their offenses, even if they should sin until the last moment of their lives.” (CCC 979) For this the Church has been given the sacrament of penance, confession, entrusted to the priests.

When the priest says, “I absolve you from your sins,” Christ forgives. To hear the absolution after making a sincere and complete confession is to hear Christ himself saying to you, “I forgive you.” There is a difference, however, from baptism: the sin is forgiven, but the personal debt, the merited punishment, is not completely wiped away. That is why the priest assigns a penance, but the penance given by the priest is only the beginning of the path that must be followed.

The awareness of absolution received should be, “Yes, I have sinned and offended God and he has forgiven me, but I still have a debt to pay.” Alas, how many receive absolution, but refusing to forgive themselves they fail to be freed of the terrible awareness of sin, they act towards themselves like the unforgiving servant in the parable. (cf. Mt 18:23-35) For those who do receive it, the terrible pain of guilt is gone, but a burden of punishment remains. Yes, Christ paid the price for us, but by sinning after baptism, we offended against the very price paid. Christ still pays the price for us but asks that we contribute a small share of our own to the paying. We can indeed do so because his forgiveness has restored us to the life of grace, we receive anew the gift of the Holy Spirit and are united to Christ and the price he paid on our behalf. By the power of his Precious Blood, all the good we do and suffering we endure can be a remedy for sin, a cause of growth in holiness, leading to the reward of eternal life.

Can you drink the cup that I drink. By inviting us to drink from his cup, Jesus invites us, through our suffering, to share in his sufferings. Our suffering is no longer a vain and impossible attempt to expiate our sins, a vain and impossible attempt to wipe away the terrible awareness of having offended God. Instead, through Christ, we do indeed pay the debt we owe, while growing in intimacy and union with him. When we are given to drink from the chalice of the Precious Blood, we should recognize this gift and pledge ourselves to sharing the suffering of Christ, giving thanks for just the little sip that he gives us.

Since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weakness, but one who has similarly been tested in every way, yet without sin. So let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and find grace in timely help.