Genesis 3:9–15; 2 Corinthians 4:13–5:1; Mark 3:20–35

It’s been a long week, with my return from school, my work, and yesterday’s ordinations, so my homily will be brief today—unless, of course, the Holy Spirit takes hold of me. Then we could be here late into the evening. Or not.

There are two parallels in this weekend’s Old Testament and Gospel readings that I want to touch on. The first is that we fall into sin when we fail to defend the voice of our conscience, when we capitulate to external pressures to compromise our values. Once we’ve fallen, we become bound as it were to that failure. It opens a breach or weakness that we can’t repair without divine intervention.

The second is that our pride can make us unwilling to accept that we have, in fact, done something wrong. Maybe we know it but are ashamed to admit wrongdoing. Maybe we don’t recognize our wrongdoing as truly wrong. Or maybe we point the finger elsewhere. Whatever the reason for our willful refusal to see ourselves as sinners, it keeps us trapped and bound in our sinfulness. Our pride gets in the way of our repentance. That’s why pride is one of the deadly sins. It causes us to perpetuate our sinful dispositions. Until we surrender in humility to the one who breaks those bonds, we remain bound.

Commentaries that discuss Mark’s gospel note that Jesus is talking about binding Satan so that Satan’s house can be emptied but understand that every spiritual principle has an inverse principle. Jesus can bind and loot Satan’s house. If we allow ourselves to be weakened through sin, Satan can bind us and loot our household as well. In the gospel reading, Jesus has bound the strong man. His ability to expel demons is because He has the authority to bind and loose. He even grants this authority to His Apostles, and in some sense that authority devolves down to us. We can bind and loose in our own lives, unless we compromise our own defenses, and the way we do that is through sin. I’m speaking here, of course, primarily about mortal sin. When we sin, we open ourselves up to be manipulated and bound by Satan. But even when we sin venially, we weaken ourselves and make ourselves vulnerable to temptation and sin.

Our passage from Genesis is a great example. Adam and the Woman are hiding from God because of their shame. Note that I don’t refer to her as Eve yet. She doesn’t become Eve until after the fall, when Adam renames her. But here they are hiding. They have already compromised their position. How did this happen? Let’s start first with who was responsible. Was it the Woman? Did God instruct her or Adam? Of course, God instructed Adam about the trees in the garden, so it was primarily his responsibility to defend against the serpent. And when you read the account, Adam is right there next to the Woman. He could have stepped in at any moment and sent the serpent packing. But he ignored the voice of his conscience, for whatever reason. The effect is immediate. They know that something in them has changed. They haven’t experienced immediate physical death, but something in them, the life of their relationship with God, has died.

When God came to walk in the garden with them as He usually did, He already knew what had happened, but he gave Adam and the Woman a chance to come clean. And what happened? Adam points to and blames the Woman first but then to God Himself, “The woman whom you put here with me….” Adam is not only blaming the Woman; he is blaming God. He is accusing God of being the author of his own sin, yet God has given Him everything good, and Adam knows it. And when Adam is called to account for his failure, he blames God for it.

In our gospel reading, the Pharisees see proof of God’s goodness—deliverance of people from possession. “By the prince of demons he casts out demons.” Jesus warns them that blasphemy against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven. Even in the face of Jesus’ miracles, the Pharisees in their pride refuse to believe in Him. They wanted Him to be wrong regardless

St. Augustine wrote, “It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men angels.” Humans can’t literally become angels, of course, but we can certainly act devilish. Our pridefulness can make us susceptible to the belief that we can do without God. That was the suggestion to the Woman in the garden. That was the effect of the words of the Pharisees. If we can do without God, what need do we have for forgiveness? That’s how Satan binds us—with the chains of our own pride. How, then, do we get unstuck? How do we get unbound? We cannot unbind ourselves.

Fortunately for us, sin is its own punishment. Sin has consequences. Sooner or later, we come face to face with our failings. We either develop a sense of humility by being honest with ourselves, or we suffer a humiliation that we can’t ignore. And the Church provides us the way we can return to right relationship with God—the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

If you’ve found yourself stuck in a pattern of sinfulness that you can’t break, don’t wait to confess your sins. The remedy is not to fix it first. It’s to submit and ask for the grace of the sacrament to give you strength to change. The Act of Contrition that we say following confession includes these words: “I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to sin no more.” Or in another form: “I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more.” The sacrament gives us the strength through God’s grace to stop sinning, so go to confession as soon as you find yourself in a pattern of sin.

We’re about to approach this altar in the Eucharistic sacrifice. The Church teaches that we cannot approach unworthily, so any time we are aware of mortal sin in our lives, we must confess our sins before coming to the Eucharist. So don’t wait. The Sacrament of Reconciliation is one of the greatest gifts that Christ gave us, and He gave it to restore us to communion with Him. Let His grace change you and make you more like Him.