Sirach 16:17 states (in the NRSV): “Do not say, “I am hidden from the Lord, and who from on high has me in mind? Among so many people I am unknown, for what am I in a boundless creation?”
The point of this passage, of course, is that sinners should not
think that God does not notice their sins and will not punish them. But
the passage stood out to me because it highlights how it is possible to
feel lost in the big world—-to be anonymous.
Some people feel comforted that there is a God who notices them
personally. I think of the song, “His Eye Is On the Sparrow.” But
there are others who do not like such an idea: they feel that it invades
their privacy, or they recoil from the prospect of being under
someone’s judgmental eye all of the time.
Both ideas are in Scripture, in some sense. Psalm 8 marvels that God
notices man amidst the vast creation, and it goes on to talk about how
God exalts and dignifies human beings. On the other hand, Job, while he
was suffering and thinking that God was afflicting him, was wondering
why God pays so much attention to human beings (Job 7:17). God is great
and powerful, right? Human beings are no threat to God, right? Why,
then, does Job have to be under God’s watchful eye, suffering affliction
Anonymity itself can be a mixed blessing. On the one hand, when we
are anonymous, we don’t have to meet other people’s expectations. On
the other hand, when we are anonymous, we may feel lonely and unloved.
After I read Sirach 16:17, I was thinking about the concept of being
alone with God. I remembered a sermon that I heard years ago. The
pastor was referring to Max Weber’s study that showed that suicide was
higher among Protestants than among Catholics. The reason, Weber said,
was that Catholics had a greater sense of community, whereas Protestants
felt alone with God. I would not say that Catholics have “community”
in the manner that is pushed by evangelicals—-you have to have
“intentional” community, socialize, and be vulnerable (sometimes,
perhaps often, to judgmental people who may think that you don’t have
the Spirit if you have certain issues). But Catholics have a
confessional where people can confess to a human being and receive
absolution. In the book that I recently read, The Sacred Year, Michael Yankoski talked about how he suggested to his Protestant pastors that they set up a confessional!
It would help me to be told by an authoritative human being that my
sins are forgiven. Trying to get that assurance in a setting where it
is just me and God is difficult, especially since God in the Bible sets
up so many conditions to receive forgiveness, and it is hard to know if I
have truly met them: I need to forgive others, I need to repent (turn
away from sin), etc. It would be nice to go to a priest, confess my
sin, and go back out feeling forgiven and trying to be good.
Of course, many have had problems with the Catholic system. When
forgiveness of sins is vested in a church, what happens when a church
abuses that authority? Consider the kings who got excommunicated by
popes for not doing what the popes wanted. Because human beings can be
so judgmental, I can understand why some would like to make confession
and forgiveness solely a matter of them and God: they figure that God
will cut them more of a break. And then there is the potential of
abusing forgiveness. You know of the stereotypical Catholic mafia boss,
who kills others yet receives absolution because he confesses his sins
to a priest. Of course, Catholicism may say that it is not for that,
that it promotes repentance and good works, and some Catholics may even
say that it is Protestantism that gives people cheap grace—-the hope
that they will go to heaven as long as they believe in Jesus, even if
their lives are full of sin.
Anyway, those are some ramblings for today.
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