Occasion for love
Am 6:1a, 4-7; Ps 146:7, 8-9, 9-10; 1 Tim 6:11-16; Lk 16:19-31
“To sin no more and to avoid whatever leads me to sin.” So ends a common version of the Act of Contrition that many people pray at the end of the sacrament of reconciliation. In a somewhat older version, the penitent firmly resolves to avoid “the near occasion of sin.”
The basic idea is that whenever we find ourselves in a situation or with a person that might lead to our committing a sin, we ought to do our best to avoid it/them. Upon a little reflection, that adds up to a lot of avoidance!
The intended outcome is a good one: Don’t knowingly put yourself into situations where you are likely to make immoral choices. But note that the intentionality is on the negative — be on the lookout for what you should not do, or whom you should not see.
I have a friend who always amends the traditional Act of Contrition by adding at the end: “And I firmly resolve, with the help of thy grace, to seek out the near occasions for love.” It’s one thing to actively avoid, but it takes a greater degree of intentionality and courage to actively seek out and engage.
If we avoid a situation, we obviously won’t be encountering it. But if we actually seek out real encounters, then we are vulnerably opening ourselves up to real engagement, with all the potential risks and graces that come with doing so.
Whenever I hear the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, I’m reminded of my friend’s amendment to the Act of Contrition.
We’re told that Lazarus lay at the rich man’s door, which means that the rich man must have passed by him numerous times. Does that mean Lazarus was a “near occasion for sin” for the rich man? Would he not have been better off to simply avoid seeing Lazarus, so that he could not commit the sin of ignoring his needs?
Clearly, that is not the point of Jesus’ parable, but it highlights the difference between avoiding opportunities for sin and seeking opportunities for love. For a heart that is converted toward Jesus, nearly every occasion for sin is, at the same time, an occasion for love.
The man or woman with whom our encounter might be a near occasion for sin is themself a beloved son or daughter of God and made in his image and likeness. No one is beyond redemption.
That might be easily said, but it can be immensely difficult to practice. In fact, we often choose to avoid the near occasions for love, precisely because of the emotional investment they require.
What if the rich man had decided to speak with Lazarus each morning? That would require time and energy, plus he would be opening himself up to the possibility of having to sacrifice some of his status or money to assist the poor beggar.
Learning to seek out such opportunities is generally a gradual process that requires patience and courage. I’d like to think that the unbreachable chasm that separates the rich man from Lazarus after both have died was carved out one spoonful at a time, over the course of their lifetimes.
The chasm need never have grown to such proportions if only the rich man could have reached out regularly to develop an authentic, human connection. The opportunity for achieving that connection — the occasion for offering and receiving love — was always present.
As I think about the many occasions for love that I regularly forego (with family members and friends; with passersby on the street, some with homes, some not; with unhealed memories from my own past; etc.), I’m reminded of the most important words in the Act of Contrition: “with the help of thy grace.” Remove the transformative power of grace from the equation and the entire Act becomes just another egotistical farce.
Perhaps a useful spiritual exercise would be to ask yourself just how wide your “chasm” is at this point in your life? With the help of God’s grace, received through the sacraments and prayer, that breach can be traversed if we are open to the journey: step by step, one near occasion for love at a time.