Bringing redemption

Below is the Thinking Anew column in today's Irish Times.

By Michael Commane

A few months ago I went to a recycling centre with a wheelie bin full of
newspapers. I had walked about a kilometer pushing the wheelie bin in front of me, and with my dog on a lead. I know I looked odd.

Just as I began to throw the papers into the large container at the bring
centre, a man on duty approached and told me that wheelie bins were not
allowed on the premises.

I was astonished. It was difficult and embarrassing coming this far with
the wheelie bin. Heading back home with a full wheelie bin was not an
attractive idea.

The two of us had a set-to. I raised my voice and remonstrated that I
thought the ruling was crazy. He countered by saying he would call the
police. He also ordered me off the premises and to take my wheelie bin with me. I invited him to go ahead and call the Garda.

I cooled down a little and suggested I leave the bin outside and carry the
paper by hand into the large container. He was having none of it. He
telephoned his supervisor.

Eventually I was allowed bring in the wheelie bin and unload my papers.
When I was leaving I went up to the man and apologised for raising my
voice. We parted on ungracious terms. There were many aspects to the
encounter and it certainly had pantomime characteristics. At least I walked home with a lighter load.

Two weeks ago I was back at the bring centre, this time with a handful of
papers to dump. I approached the attendant. He didn’t recognise me. I
reminded him of our previous encounter.

Then he remembered, put his hand on my shoulder and smiled and we had a friendly chat. We exchanged pleasantries, a few laughs and I headed off to work on my bicycle.
He was so nice and friendly to me and I hope, I to him. I have no problem
calling it a moment of grace. A silly bad tempered altercation, which turned into something positive because of the protagonists backing off and using conciliatory words and gestures.
In tomorrow’s Gospel (Mark 6: 30 - 34) we read how Jesus, who had decided
to head off to a quiet place, relented, had pity on the people and went
back to be with them. The Gospel tells us he had ‘pity’ on them.

The word ‘pity’ might well evoke an expression or an attitude of being
patronising. But nothing could be further from the truth. Jesus through his
words and deeds was showing compassion.

In the first reading from the prophet Jeremiah, (Jeremiah 23: 1 - 6) we
read how Yahweh declares that none of the people will be lost.

It’s easy to get bowed down under rules and regulations. It is always
tempting to formalise our religious practice in such a way that we lose
touch with the essentials. It can become a game. But surely at the very
centre of any religion or faith system is our relationships with other people?

My experience at the bring centre was a reminder how rules can sometimes
get in the way and how human wisdom wins out in the end. And that too is
something about which Jesus was aware.

It is impossible to be a Christian in the exclusive company of oneself.
Christianity is about people. We believe that God joined the human race and
became one of us. We have been raised to a new reality. The Sacraments help bridge the gap between people and God.

The theology of priesthood regularly talks about how the ordained priest
carries out the work of God. But it must never be forgotten that the priest
above all else must be a people’s person. The priest can only be a priest
in the context of other people, all the time showing interest, compassion
and true interest in people. And listening and learning too from people.

Over the last few weeks the Gospel readings have concentrated on the
kindness and compassion of Jesus.

They are an important reminder to all of
us. Our words and deeds should show kindness and compassion.

How can we talk about loving God if we do not show kindness to our fellow
sisters and brothers?

My wheelie bin experience brought home to me the importance of being kind and gentle, even if it all gets off to a bad start. There is always the
possibility of healing.

We might well call it redemption.