A winnowing fork is like a pitchfork. It is a long stick with half a dozen metal or wooden spikes about 6 inches long at the top. Once the edible part of the grain is separated from its protective stalk and husk in the process called threshing, you are left with a mixture of the grain itself and waste material known as chaff. The farmer uses the winnowing fork to scoop up and toss in the air the mixture. The wind blows the chaff to one side and the grain falls to the ground. The farmer clears the threshing floor by gathering the grain into his barn and by collecting and burning the chaff.

The prophet Jeremiah and John the Baptist use the image of winnowing to symbolize divine judgment. God separates the grain from the chaff, the good from the wicked. You can also apply it to the sifting or separation of what is good or bad which each person does when they examine their conscience. What we discern to be good in us is like the wheat, the bad is the chaff. We retain and cherish the good; we repent of and confess the bad.

The baptism of John was intended to bring people to true repentance, meaning a new way of thinking and of living. But John’s Baptism could not actually remove sin or confer divine grace. Just the same, it did emphasize that the human person, all things being equal, can choose to change from sinful ways to ways of love and holiness. We can have a “firm purpose of amendment.” Our freedom can’t achieve repentance on its own, though: it is necessary for the grace of God to help us to achieve it. Both freedom and grace are required.

And that’s just what happens in the baptism we receive from Jesus. John knew that Jesus was coming and tried to ready the people of Israel for Him. John understood that Jesus was the one spoken of in the first reading from Isaiah, the One on Whom the Spirit of the Lord would rest. Not only would the Spirit rest on Jesus, but, in His Baptism, Jesus would also give the Spirit of divine fire to us: to cleanse us of the chaff, to refine the wheat, to pass judgment on those who refuse to repent, like the Sadducees and Pharisees who came to John.

The fire of the Spirit is the love of God. It is hard for anyone to repent without love. In the Gospel, when Jesus uses language and images that can frighten us – for example, “be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell” – His aim is to shake and stir us lest we sleepwalk into self-destruction. The Pharisees and others like them were surely loved by Jesus but because they wouldn’t listen to Him, he laid into them at one point in the Gospel with a series of woes, for example: “Woe to you Pharisees, for you are like whitened sepulchres”, looking good on the outside but filled with corruption and death. The strong language was intended to bring them to their senses. He hoped that they would then be able to accept His love.

But fire and brimstone are not the preferred approach of Jesus. He much prefers to attract us to repentance by means of His merciful love. Remember the thousands of people who would flock to hear Him, the tax collectors and sinners in the forefront. Jesus exuded welcome, mercy, compassion and understanding. Yet even these would not have been enough. People aren’t stupid. When someone is aware of their sinfulness, they don’t just expect sweet talk and nice feelings. They want to hear the truth; they want to admit the truth. And in Jesus they would have seen not just a merciful and kind gentleman. They would have perceived the utter genuineness and integrity of His person and, above all, that He spoke to them the Truth of God. They could trust Him because His mercy was rooted in the Truth. They could take His judgment because He was both truthful and merciful.

This double-edged quality is also proper to the Spirit in which we were baptized. The fire of divine love both instils the unconditional mercy of Christ in our hearts and at the same time purifies them with the truth. In mercy, it loves; in truth, it cleanses.

What holds for baptism, holds equally for the Sacrament of Reconciliation. The grace of absolution is ours when, first, we have done some winnowing of our own in the examination of conscience. Then, provided we have done that to the best of our ability and made that firm purpose of amendment which the Baptist demanded of those who came to him, the fire of the same Spirit of Christ falls upon on our hearts, instilling in them the unconditional mercy of Christ and purifying them of all sin. Absolution restores to us the fullness of the grace of our Baptism. We glow within with the fire of divine love. We are once again immaculate.

I am old enough to remember Friday evenings in parish churches until the late 60’s and early 70’s when there would be queues of people lined up for weekly confession. You certainly have to wonder whether it was the best practice of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. The pendulum has rather swung in the opposite direction today. While it is true that sacramental absolution is only necessary for mortal sin, the grace of absolution gives to any sincere heart a unique depth and strength of divine love.  Provided we have not deliberately held anything back, it also gives us the absolute and objective certainty that all our sin has been removed by the blood of Christ. Who cannot want that? Why not want that, and want it often? It is Christ who gives us this Sacrament as surely as He gives us the Eucharist. Confession is not a second-class sacrament. If we are struggling with sinful habits or heaviness of heart or soul, if we are in confusion or suffering from uncertainty or apathy or mediocrity in the spiritual life, this sacrament can be an immense gift to help us on our way.

You know how it can be if you have someone close to whom you can unburden. It brings great relief and support. But even with those closest to us, sometimes there are things we just can share. To unburden in confession, protected with the sacramental seal (which no friendship can guarantee), can be a lifesaver for those tormented by memories and traumas which eat their hearts out. It’s hard sometimes to speak out loud certain things to another human being. Is it not harder still though to keep them bottled up? The priest is your servant, especially in confession. It is Christ who is your Saviour, the same Christ who attracted multitudes to be healed and forgiven by the divine fire of His Spirit. He is as present and active today as He was 2,000 years ago. He waits, or rather, He longs for you to come to Him. Don’t be afraid, don’t pass Him by, don’t procrastinate, don’t resist. Open your heart to the One whose heart remains pierced and open for you. Let Him winnow you gently with His Cross and return you to the glorious and immaculate innocence of your baptism.

What real, profound, spiritual joy is yours through sacramental absolution! I have seen people’s lives turned around by it. Smiles return to faces. People have a spring in their step. One person once said that they hadn’t slept so well in years after making a good confession after carrying burdens for man years. Do yourself a favour and give yourself the best Christmas present ever: a heart and conscience liberated from sin and guilt and bathed in divine grace! The joy of that will overflow and lift up those you choose to share Christmas with. Forgiveness and its peace are contagious. Give joy to your loved ones and give joy to Christ by celebrating the sacrament of reconciliation this Christmas!