Dear Parish Family,

Towards the end of every Mass we recite, “Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world …” Then the priest lifts up the body of Christ (sacred host) and says “This is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.” May be we have not thought much about it. Yet it is a mysterious idea, especially if you listen. It is actually quite rich.

In the Jewish temple lambs had their lives taken as “sacrifices.” Perhaps it was thought that their innocence could go up to God’s pure heaven by this means—making a bridge between God and the people. The sacrifice of lambs played a very important role in the Jewish religious life and sacrificial system. When John the Baptist referred to Jesus as the “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29), the Jews who heard him might have immediately thought of any one of several important sacrifices like the daily sacrifice at the Temple of Jerusalem or the one on the Feast of Atonement (Yom Kippur). With the time of the Passover feast being very near, the first thought might be the sacrifice of the Passover lamb. The Passover feast was one of the main Jewish holidays and a celebration in remembrance of God’s deliverance of the Israelites from bondage in Egypt. In fact, the slaying of the Passover lamb and the applying of the blood to doorposts of the houses (Exodus 12:11-13) is a beautiful picture of Christ’s atoning work on the cross. Those for whom He died are covered by His blood, protecting us from spiritual death.

While the idea of a sacrificial system might seem strange to us today, the concept of payment or restitution is still one we can easily understand. We know that the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23) and that our sin separates us from God. Jesus allowed himself be sacrificed on behalf of his people. He was already at one with God, as we know, but he was also a (sinless) member of a sinful people. So he carried the plague of their sins before God’s bosom.

The Fall is a philosophical novel by Albert Camus. First published in 1956, it is his last complete work of fiction. Set in Amsterdam, The Fall consists of a series of dramatic monologues by the self-proclaimed "judge-penitent" Jean-Baptiste Clamence, as he reflects upon his life to a stranger. The title of the book refers to the “fall of man,” that moment of succumbing to the lie in the Garden of Eden. But since there is no messiah to be found, seduction rules the earth, lies control our minds. “Truth,” Clamence says, “is a colossal bore.” So there is no God, no truth, not even the truth of a person outside of Clamence’s ego who might merit his respect or win his love. Having no savior to announce, Clamence can only proclaim himself. Everything is to be used at the service of his narcissism. His whole life is devoted to denying any duty to which he might be held responsible or any morality by which he might be judged. “The essential is being able to permit oneself everything.” Camus is saying that this radical self-centeredness is the essence of sin. And if we humans cannot be healed or redeemed (by the Lamb of God) from this moral sickness, we are condemned to an endless hate not unlike Satan’s. Unconsciously this stark ideology is pervading our society at a furious pace and glorified as modern advancement.

We all sin, and we sin in different ways and at different times. We can speak of “sins” (in the plural), but all our sins are of a piece: they are different manifestations of our sinfulness. At every Eucharist we are made conscious of the ‘Sin of the world,’ and also our personal sins. Then we are asked to embrace redemption joyfully so that we can live a life worthy of our calling as beloved of God through the passion, death and resurrection of the Lamb of God – Jesus Christ.
 

Fr. Tom Kunnel C.O.