Pure as Snow

In just a few hours, wintry weather will be arriving. I hope everyone is stocked up on bread and milk ahead of the storm. We tend to get excited about snow, partly because it is so rare in this part of the country and partly because it affects travel and daily life. But we also get excited about snow because it is lovely. There’s nothing quite so beautiful and peaceful as watching a quiet snowfall covering everything in pure white. 

Loveliness, beauty, purity, peace – these are things we yearn for, things we yearn to be ourselves. Maybe we don’t think of it in those terms, but each of us wants to consider ourselves to be a good person, who has good motives, who does good things, who lives a good life, and who will be appreciated by others as good when we die. At the same time, we also recognize we are not perfect. We are sinners in need of a Redeemer – in need of the grace of the Redeemer, Jesus Christ.

In Christian history, there have been debates about how exactly we receive that grace. The Protestant firebrand Martin Luther, for example, believed that God’s grace is merely imputed to us – attributed to us, but without really becoming ours. In his thinking, God sees the merits of his Son Jesus, and then applies them to us, but only externally, forensically. God’s grace doesn’t change who we are in actuality. The image he used is that of dung covered by snow; the grace of Christ conceals our sins and failings in the sight of God, but underneath we remain wretched, like a pile of manure.

The Catholic view of grace is different, and I think we see why in the Gospel today. When the man with leprosy approaches Jesus for healing, Jesus doesn’t simply declare him to be clean; he doesn’t give just an external remedy. No, he actually changes him from within; Jesus heals him of the disease, so that he is not only declared to be clean, he actually is made clean. So too with God’s grace. When we receive it, it doesn’t just cover over our sins, like snow on top of manure, it actually transforms us – it makes us clean, removing our sins entirely, so that we ourselves become as pure as snow.

Claude Monet, The Magpie (1869)

This might seem like an abstract theological point, but I think it makes a practical difference in how we live. As I said, we are all trying to be good people, to live good lives, and yet we know that we are also sinners too. One approach to reconciling those two realities is to think God just overlooks our sinful actions, that he focuses on the good of his Son and not on the bad that we do. This is what Martin Luther believed, and what many of our Protestant friends still believe about God’s grace today. But a more profound idea, and a more Scriptural one too, is to believe that God desires to actually transform us. When we believe that – that he wants to heal us at our very core so that every sin and flaw is rooted out as completely as the man who was healed of leprosy – it changes how we ourselves approach our sins.

In just a few days, the season of Lent will be arriving again. As we prepare, we should consider: what sin or sinful trait exists in me that God wants to deal with? What is my leprosy, something that needs to be not only forgiven but completely rooted out?

• Perhaps it is the sin of gossip, the inclination to talk about others in a way that hurts their good name or violates our friendship with them. We can ask the Lord to be healed of that sin by asking to be purified of the desire to always be “in the know” or of the thrill of sharing news that is not ours to share. We can also learn not to judge others by becoming more aware of our own sins and failings, and aware of how wrong they are, and how much we must rely on God’s mercy ourselves.

• Maybe we need to be freed from something that takes away our freedom, some form of addiction. Whether it is a compulsion to pornography or to alcohol, to online shopping or to the internet and social media, God wants to heal us of what binds us and robs us of free will. A first step in combating any addiction is to realize that freedom can only come with God’s help. Thus, we have to learn to rely upon him, to build a friendship with him in prayer every day, so that we can find our joy and peace there rather than in the thing that compels us. 

• Perhaps the area of healing you need is your marriage. Today is Valentine’s Day. In addition to doing something nice for your spouse, and telling him or her that you love them, perhaps you can also ask God in prayer to reveal to you where you need to grow: “Lord, in what area am I not giving myself completely to my spouse? Where have I pulled back from the promises I made to them and to You? In what specific way are you calling me to serve my spouse, even to suffer for them, to die to myself for them out of love for You?” Maybe the area Jesus most wants to give you healing this Lent is in your marriage – to grow in that relationship, so that together you and your spouse can follow him more closely.

Friends, stay safe in the coming days, and enjoy the snow. May its beauty remind you that God wants to make you beautiful too. Whether it is in one of the areas I mentioned, or in something else, God doesn’t just want to overlook your sins or cover over them; he wants to free you from them entirely, healing you and making you truly good. May the heavenly bread of this Eucharist fill us with the newness of Christ so that in the storms of life we may be transformed into the pure vessels of his grace.