We have begun our Lenten exercises. My thoughts today have been inspired largely by the writings of the priest and monk, Harry Williams, a member of the Community of the Resurrection in Yorkshire, England. Harry has written extensively and preached widely on Lenten themes throughout his priestly life. I am always enriched by his insights. I hope they will be of some value to you as we enter once more the Lenten Period.

Many of us do our best to mark the season, to adopt some Penitential practice that may improve the quality of our Christian lives and, at the same time, keep our heartbeat in harmony with the rhythm of the season. All this is admirable, beneficial, and is hallowed by a long tradition in the Christian Churches. However, we should remain ever alert for any traces of 'bargaining with the Divine', of creating the illusion that we are, however unwittingly, purchasing our salvation. The line between 'magic' and 'mystery' has not always been clearly demarcated in the Catholic tradition. Much of what daily passes for pious practice fades frequently into magic.

The 'mysterious' invites us to enter God's plan for our salvation. The 'magical' provides God with OUR plan for OUR salvation. The world of magic deals in 'sleight-of-hand', illusion, trickery. The mysterious invites us into the heart of reality, the magical tempts us to bypass reality by giving us the illusion that we are in control of it.

We have a lovely example of magic in today's gospel extract. Jesus is in the desert. He has fasted for a very lengthy period and, as anyone who has 'done' Lough Derg will tell you, the human psyche most susceptible to illusion and suggestion in the latter stages of the fasting experience. Jesus is no different. In the hour of his greatest vulnerability, this weaver of illusions appears at his elbow, and begins to play tricks with his brain: "If you are the Son of God, command these stones to turn into bread." In other words: "You are the Son of God, at heart a Great Magician, do your trick now and turn it to your own advantage." But Jesus is alert to his charm and his charms; he recognises the illusion for what it is: "Man does not live on bread alone." A more profound truth has never passed the lips of any man.

We are often told that illusions are merciful, that they shield the soul from harsh reality. 'To rob people of their illusions is so cruel', we often hear. I believe the contrary to be the case: It is very cruel to leave people with their illusions. The illusion is cruel; truth is merciful.

Paul seems to labour the point on 'fallen man' in today's extract to the Roman. It is a turgid text, and one could be forgiven for questioning the wisdom of reading that extract the a general congregation on Sunday morning. However, unlike the Devil in the desert, he leaves us under no illusions: "Sin entered the world through one man, and through sin death, and thus death has spread through the whole human race because everyone has sinned."

Paul has no doubt about it: Man is a fallen creature. It sounds 'hard-line' and somewhat cruel. However, I think that nothing is so cruel as the illusion that man is not a fallen creature; and that few things are more merciful than the truth that we are fallen. When you go to a christening, it may shock you to discover some of the language used in the exorcism of the little baby. The old ritual was more forthcoming: 'Dearly beloved, for as much as all men are conceived and born in sin.' And yet that belief, properly understood, I would claim, is indispensable to all human happiness and maturity.

Of course, words can he terribly misleading. And few words are so utterly misleading as the words 'fallen' and 'sin' in this context. I want, therefore, to make sure that these words are not misunderstood. We will start with the word 'fallen'. If I begin by being a professor at a university and end by teaching at a National School, you could speak of my decline and fall. Man has not fallen in this sense. He didn't begin great and good, and later become miserable and wicked. If people once believed that, it was because they took the story of today's first reading, the story of the Garden of Eden, as literal history. We know now that there never was a Garden of Eden, and that in fact man has evolved from lower forms of life. So the fall is not a fall from a past condition. It is more like a falling short of a future condition. Let me give an example. I have it in me, shall we say, to be a great writer. I feel somehow that I possess this outstanding ability. But, as yet, haven't been able to actualise it. I haven't been able to give to my writing all I've got. I feel that I could write better than I do, but as yet I can't. This isn't my fault. It's just how things are at the moment. One day, I hope, I shall be able to give full expression to my literary potentialities. Until that day comes, however, I shall continue to fall short of what I fully am.

Now it is in this sense that man is fallen. Man has innate genius (they call it the image of God), a genius for absolute generosity which is the essence of goodness. But, as yet, man cannot fully actualise this genius. He cannot give himself as he knows he has it in him to give himself. This is not his fault. He was born that way. But, none the less, it makes him fall short of his full stature. He is fallen from what in God's Providence he one day will be.

And now, what about the phrase, 'conceived and born in sin'? First of all, it has nothing to do with the notion that sex is nasty. On the contrary, the Church regards sex as God's gracious gift, and a redemptive agent of healing. Nor does 'conceived and born in sin' mean that we came into this world blameworthy, or that our parents were somehow blameworthy for having us. The word 'sin' here has nothing to do with blame at all. It simply means that from the moment of our conception and birth we enter into a state of affairs which is mixed up, a state of affairs which is, to a large extent, out of joint.

'Conceived and born in sin' means that, far from being born free, all men and women every where are born in chains. Why this is so, we don't know. We guess and grapple at it by myths involving figures like Satan, or a the serpent, or fallen angels. The reason why is hidden from us. But the fact itself stares us in the face everywhere, every day. You will see how merciful is this truth of the fall and original sin. The best of us are mediocre, to say the least of it. If we imagine we were born unfallen and free, we worry and fret and get angry with ourselves for not being better and greater people than we are. And that is the road to ineffectiveness and emotional breakdown.

If, on the other hand, I know that I was born fallen and in sin, I don't hate myself for being as mediocre as I am, since I realise that it is not my fault. And this releases my energies and enables me to grow into maturity and happiness.

I said just now that all men everywhere are born in chains, and that this is what the fall means. But what are these chains? The chains are something inside me which prevents me from being fully myself. What is this something? It is a small fraction of what I am which lords it over the rest of me. It is as though one-tenth of my being was a dictator, keeping the other nine-tenths under lock and key.

All of us, in one way or another, stifle what we have it in us to be. We do it without knowing it. And we do it, not because we are wicked, but because we are frightened. We are frightened because we do not at heart believe we are made in the image of God. So frightened that when a full and perfect man lived on this earth, he had to be killed as a security measure. And Jesus Christ continues to be crucified within each one of us. And almost certainly, we are asking God to help us keep him dead in the interest of a distorted tin-pot impression of him, which is really a disguise for that part of us which is the dictator. And that is what evil is:
... not, as we thought,
Deeds that must be punished,
but our lack of faith,
Our dishonest mood of denial,
The concupiscence of the oppressor.

But we have this hope: Christ's love, which is stronger than our fear, and in the end will prevail. That is what the Lenten journey is about. That is message of the resurrection. And when his love cast out our fear, then we shall be redeemed, because we shall have realised our full potential in God.

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