A profound interaction between God and humanity happens this week in the readings. God sees into the human heart and because of that knows our sins, yet God forgives and does not count sins against us.

In the context of a secular world that rarely utters the name of God except in casual vulgarity, it’s easy to compartmentalize faith. In this context, church becomes the repository of things religious, and Sunday Mass becomes the sole interface between God and us.

A lot of men and women of doubtful reputation were hanging around Jesus, listening intently. The Pharisees and religion scholars were not pleased. They growled, “He takes in sinners and eats meals with them, treating them like old friends.” Their grumbling triggered this story.

In the fifth grade Sister Annette moved me to the front seat of the middle row and I still couldn’t read the chalkboard. My eyes were checked by an ophthalmologist who prescribed glasses to correct my nearsightedness.

We ask for mercy from our God who forgives us without limit.

“Now we must celebrate and rejoice.” Rescue, reunion, and revelry weave their ways through the readings today. Israel’s sins are “rolled away” (a possible meaning for Gilgal), they arrive in the land God promised them and to which they have been journeying for so long, and they end their Exodus just as they began it: with the celebration of Passover.

Be at peace with your own soul, then heaven and earth will be at peace with you. —Saint Jerome