Fr Paolo Consonni MCCJ
We all need someone to blame when something goes wrong in the world: a “villain” to be held accountable for the tragedies we see in the news. This villain can either be a person or sometimes even an entire group of people.
When we don’t find a culprit, then it’s easy to put the responsibility of those events on God. This is even worse because, since God cannot be wrong, we then blame the victims: they must have done something worth God’s punishment. In past decades Rene Girard, a French philosopher, wrote interesting pages about this “scapegoat mechanism” that societies adopt when unable to assume responsibilities or engage in self-reflection, a mechanism which leads to endless cycles of violence and social unrest.
In the Gospel of this third Sunday of Lent (Lk 13:1-9), Jesus was most probably asked to give his opinion about some breaking news of that time: the massacre of some Galileans in the temple ordered by the Roman prefect Pilate. Jesus also mentions the collapse of a tower, which caused many casualties. People must have asked him for an opinion about that tragedy too. So, who’s to blame? Pilate (the oppressor!)? The people of Galilee (troublemakers!)? Those killed (sinners!)? Surely enough, any answer by Jesus would have been regarded as a provocation by those who had already decided who was to be blamed. Jesus was treading on a very thin line here; so are we these days when asked to comment on the news.
Tragedies are caused both from human evil and natural disasters. The Catechism of the Catholic Church (n. 310) distinguishes “moral evil” from “physical evil,” like natural disasters or the collapse of the tower. Every tragedy is indeed a kind of evil which causes vengeful desires (it’s their fault!) or leaves us utterly frustrated (I am weak and bad, and I deserve to suffer). Both are oversimplified answers to very complex situations.
Jesus does not give an answer which pretends to fully explain the mystery of evil, a depth which our limited human mind cannot grasp in its entirety; therefore the Catechism calls this mystery “a scandal”) . Jesus did not want to increase the possibility of oversimplified judgments and consequent blaming.
He instead invited his listeners first to realistically acknowledge our common fragility in front of evil (both moral and physical). This fragility involves all of us, no one is excluded. By doing so, Jesus stopped the vicious circle of blaming and scapegoating.
To overcome frustration and fateful resignation when faced with evil, Jesus then invited everybody to recognize that the evil we see in others is also within us. We see in others as in a mirror. When unrecognized, our pride can lead to very wrong choices: “Unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did!” (Lk 13:5).
In other words: don’t think you are immune to evil. Unless you continually adjust yourself so that you might live a meaningful life, a life in line with the logic of the Gospel (listening to God’s Word, service, mercy, self-renunciation), you are destined to the same tragedy: a sterile life (which is a loveless life) ending with death, as the image of the fruitless fig tree at the end of the Gospel indicates.
Conversion comes with the keen awareness of this danger and the decision to let every event, even the most painful ones, become a reminder to live our lives as sons and daughters of God, like Jesus, who reacted to evil by offering His greatest love. Jesus, as the gardener in the parable, can help us to live like Him, so that the fruits of our efforts may remain for eternity.
These days humanity is facing several tragedies: the war, Covid, disasters caused by climate change, economic crisis… plus our personal issues (sicknesses, broken relationships). How to concretely “repent” and not become either angry or resigned victims of these evils? In his Apostolic Letter “Patris Corde” (N.4) Pope Francis encourages us: “We need to set aside all anger and disappointment, and to embrace the way things are, even when they do not turn out as we wish. Not with mere resignation but with hope and courage […] Here, once again, we encounter that Christian realism which rejects nothing that exists. Reality, in its mysterious and irreducible complexity, is the bearer of existential meaning, with all its lights and shadows. Thus, the Apostle Paul can say: ‘We know that all things work together for good, for those who love God’ (Rom 8:28). To which Saint Augustine adds, ‘even that which is called evil’. In this greater perspective, faith gives meaning to every event, however happy or sad”.
If we live like this, taking responsibility for our lives while facing the evil around us, we will not care too much of the fact that we might become dust at any moment, as we were reminded at the beginning of Lent…because the fruits of love we produced will remain forever.
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