In 1971, various Christian denominations began modernizing our common liturgical texts. The Roman Catholic Church adopted some of the revisions. She has, however, kept the traditional form of the Lord’s Prayer. Protestants may ask forgiveness for their sins, but we Catholics still pray over trespasses. I’m glad. The word “trespass” better suits my daily struggles.
Maybe my conscience is blind, but I don’t see many mortal sins staining my soul. What I do see is lots of trespassing. I’m like those surfers who cut across strangers’ lawns to get to the beach. I’m too lazy to take the legal right of way down the street. Instead I trespass. Using that word in my daily prayer reminds me that my spiritual journey requires frequent course corrections.
Thanks be to God, I’ve seldom been the victim of someone else’s mortal sins. I’ve been frustrated, angered, hurt and disappointed, of course. However, when I calm down, I usually recognize that those who harm me seldom do so deliberately. It’s more weakness or thoughtlessness than malice. They’re trespassing.
Mother Church has trained me well. When I am truly sinned against, I know I’m supposed to forgive the sinner. Unless I say the Lord’s Prayer really fast without thinking, I can’t miss hearing “as we forgive those.” I know that despite whatever pain I’ve suffered from someone else’s actions, I’ve got to let it go. The principle is really clear. If I want to get forgiveness, I’ve got to give it.
I truly do try to forgive sins against me. Trespasses are a different story. I’ve got a large collection of grudges that I’ve kept and cuddled, sometimes for years. There’s that fellow teacher who bad mouthed me to parents. There’s the newspaper editor who reprinted my column without payment or credit. There’s the high school classmate who spread a nasty rumor about me. Just recalling those incidents raises my blood pressure.
Which is proof that I haven’t done my spiritual homework. If that teacher had gotten me fired, I would have prayed and prayed over the experience until God’s grace cleaned out all the anger. But he was just mean, maybe even for cause. Maybe I did something unkind to him that I’ve forgotten. Maybe he was having a bad day, and his tongue ran away with him. These are the kind of excuses I give for my own trespasses, but I don’t always extend them to others.
There’s another reason I don’t work on forgiving minor injuries. When I prayerfully look at others’ trespasses, I almost always see my own as well. I don’t recall ever starting rumors, but I’ve passed them along. I’ve spoken ill of others, when I should have kept quiet. I’ve never taken credit for someone else’s work, but I haven’t always been perfectly honest. Striving to forgive someone else’s trespasses forces me to acknowledge my own faults, and that’s never fun.
I’m far from being overly scrupulous. I can coast along for ages with venial sins on my conscience. With any luck, I’ll even forget what they are! However, whenever I slowly and thoughtfully pray the Our Father, the words force me to consider my own trespasses. Are they onetime slip-ups or a settled habit? How often and how far have I trespassed? Have my short cuts become a beaten path? Honest answers will eventually lead me to the Rite of Reconciliation.
So, I make this request of our church’s liturgists, please don’t change the Lord’s Prayer while I’m still around. It’s giving me more than enough spiritual work just as it is.
Kathleen welcomes comments. Send them to Kathleen Choi, 1706 Waianuenue Ave., Hilo 96720, or email: kathchoi@hawaii.rr.com.
