It’s easy to get used to sin. Sometimes it’s because we like it; sometimes it’s because we seem unable to overcome it; sometimes it’s because we say that everyone else does it; sometimes it’s because we deny it is sin; and sometimes it’s because we justify it.

But God can never get used to sin, no matter what reason we give for committing it. God perceives the full damage sin does to us and to the world, and the offence it causes to Him. And it’s no use saying that our sin is private or hidden or that we are not doing anyone any harm by it. Every sin has an effect on ourselves, on others and on God, because sin distorts and contorts our ability truly and fully to love. Every sin dims even just a little the light of love in our hearts and so deprives us and others of that light. Let’s not forget either, that Christ was crucified and died for our sin. Surely, we can’t get used to that?

We know that God loves the sinner, not because he and she sins, but because despite their sin, he and she is a beloved son or daughter of the Father. We also know that, precisely because He loves the sinner, God hates the sin. He hates, in other words, what damages, what defiles, what desecrates those He loves. In cleansing the Temple, the zeal of Jesus is both a for and an against. It is against the sins being committed there and it is for the Father and for all the peoples called to pray to Him in His House.

In identifying the Temple with His own Body, Jesus anticipates the cleansing of that Body on the Cross. In His Passion and Death, He will cleanse His Body of sin: not of His sin, but of ours. For as the Scripture tells us, he carried our faults in His Body on the tree, letting Himself be taken for a sinner, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. It’s not the whip that cleanses the true Temple, but the self-sacrificing love, the agape, of the Son of God. His death out of love is our cleansing. And He cleanses us to give us back the will and the capacity to love as He has loved us. He cleanses us so that we can pray to the Father in Spirit and in Truth.

Although Jesus died for us at a given moment in history and at a given place in geography, the Holy Spirit makes His death present in all history and in all geography. Jesus did not just die for those around Him during His days on earth. He died for all. And the power of His death does not weaken over time or space. It retains all its power always and everywhere. He entrusted this immense gift to the Church for her to bring to all nations the Good News and the grace of His death for all. In Word and Sacrament especially, Jesus established the privileged means for us to have access to His cleansing death.

When we come to Him to experience His eternal love, the first thing He asks us to do is to surrender to Him the dust and dirt of our spirits, that he might cleanse us. Unless we do, our efforts to get closer to Him will be impeded and frustrated. That’s why the first thing we do at Mass is the Penitential Rite: we call to mind our sins and ask Him to forgive us so that we can celebrate more worthily the tremendous gifts of His Word and of His Eucharist. If we are conscious of more serious sins against His love, then we must approach the Sacrament of Reconciliation at some point before receiving the Eucharist. Absolution is Christ’s cleansing death applied once more to our souls. It’s surely difficult to accept sometimes, but we need to remember that while Christ loves us, He still hates our sins because of what they are doing to us, even though we ourselves might not see or admit what they are doing to us, or even that they are there at all. So, our love for Him demands of us in return that we do all we can to know, to confess and to be free of what we know our divine Lover hates. Let His zeal for our souls become our own zeal both for our own souls and for His loving Heart. Let His zeal kill our sin and raise up our love.

As we approach the days when we commemorate the events which proved how well He loves us, love demands that we each make a serious review of our spiritual and moral lives, and let ourselves be deeply cleansed and renewed in grace. The motivation here isn’t just guilt, or a raw sense of duty, but grateful and zealous love for Jesus and for His Body. The ten commandments given in the first reading still today provide a useful framework to help us perform a good and generous examination of conscience. It’s even better, though, to read them through the lens of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, in chapters 5-7 of St. Matthew’s Gospel, since Jesus himself teaches us more deeply there what the ten commandments mean.

At the same time, St. Paul’s words in the second reading concerning Christ Crucified, the power and wisdom of God, can help me remember that living a good moral life is not about self-absorption or congratulating myself on what I don’t do wrong: it’s about responding in love to the One who died out of love for me. Sin and repentance are matters of the heart, not just of the head or of exterior conformity to norms or laws.

Christ comes to cleanse us, not with a whip, but with the fire of the Holy Spirit whom He breathed forth as He died. May each of our souls become like the burning bush on Mount Sinai: afire with divine love, yet not consumed except with zeal for Christ’s Body, the Father’s house. Let us whip up a blazing fire for God!