(2 Sm 24:2, 9-17; Ps 32:1-2, 5, 6, 7; Mk 6:1-6)
One of the mistakes I think many people make is in thinking that the consequences of the wrongs they do are limited to themselves. On some level, this is true; at the end of our lives, it is each of us who is responsible for our own sins, and whether we’ve taken responsibility and atoned or will suffer the eternal consequences of being separated from God.
And Christ has made it so easy to be absolved of our sin, especially through the Sacrament of Reconciliation. However, sometimes I wonder how many people confuse being forgiven of our sins with being absolved from the consequences of our sins.
All these thoughts came to mind today as I reflected on the first reading today, from the Second Book of Samuel. In it, David performs a census of the tribes in Israel. As punishment, God offers David three choices: Three years of famine, three months of Israel’s enemies pursuing it, or three days of plague. David chooses the last one, and 70,000 people die.
I admit that, the first time I read this, it was very challenging for me. How could a just and loving God kill so many random people through no fault of their own?
As I attempted to sort my own feelings and thoughts, I did some research on this passage. What was going on here?
At first, I didn’t understand the crime that David had committed. We have censuses all the time; what’s the big deal?
There’s a lot of discussion you can find online about this, but there are a few takeaways:
- The people of Israel are God’s people; they don’t belong to the king. Therefore, only God should know their exact number.
- There may have been a sin of pride. David’s reign was very successful, and David may have wanted to know the size of his armies to know how his people had prospered under his reign – that is, how great his reign has been.
- There may also a sin of territorial greed; knowing the size of one’s armies is often most useful when trying to determine if a military campaign will be successful. Thus, if David wanted to know how large his armies were, then he may well have had his sights on nearby lands . . . which would have been against God’s wishes. (And, obviously, God would have known that.)
So, David had committed at least one grave sin against God; plus it took nearly ten months (2 Sm 24:8), so this wasn’t a brief transgression. And David knew it, given that he immediately regretted it and asked God’s forgiveness (2 Sm 24:10).
So, what of the choices that God offered? In this instance, I believe David showed the wisdom he was known for. The other two choices would have spared some groups from the effects of God’s punishment; a famine would have spared the wealthy who could afford to buy food from neighbors, while the cost of being chased by enemies would have primarily been paid by the military. Only plague would endanger all without discretion; at the time, illness was an equal problem for all.
Still, isn’t it awful that 70,000 people had to pay the price for David’s hubris?
We don’t know God’s exact motivations or reasons for why He did what He did; in this instance, He declined to offer an explanation or accounting. However, all of us should recognize that, regardless, innocent people pay the price all the time for our sins. A hedonist drinks and drives, killing an innocent pedestrian. A risk-taker gambles away vital household money and inflicts hardship on the rest of the family. A spouse seeks carnal pleasures outside of a marriage and opens the household to disease and drama.
Even seemingly trivial examples can ripple outward. A thoughtless scolding might make a child harder of heart at school. A careless aside can sour the mood of a merchant. Covetous comments about others’ standard of living could make your parents or spouse upset.
And still larger transgressions hit close to home for our world today. A militant’s hubris causes him to attack a neighbor, inflicting death and suffering for two nations. A leader’s greed causes him to hoard his people’s resources, resulting in starvation and hardship for his country. A business amasses unimaginable wealth at the expense of its employees and customers, leading to dismal environmental and working conditions.
Even today’s Gospel selection from Mark drives this point home, when the Nazarenes who knew Jesus growing up took offense at his teachings: “[T]hey took offense at him . . . So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there, apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them. He was amazed at their lack of faith.” Think of how many people were not healed at Nazareth, or whose souls weren’t exposed to mighty deeds that would establish the truth of Christ’s divinity and promise, because of the sin of the Nazarenes’ faithlessness.
Through the power of the confessional, Christ grants the gift of forgiveness, and we should avail ourselves of that as quickly and often as needed; let the power of today’s Responsorial Psalm echo in our hearts: “Lord, forgive the wrong I have done.” But let us strive ever earnestly to sin as little as possible, so we might minimize the damage our transgressions do to others.
