This is an excerpt from remarks at St. Mark's College.

VANCOUVER—To mark the commencement of yet another academic year, and the inauguration of the 60th anniversary of St. Mark’s College, we are celebrating this Mass of the Holy Spirit. In this way we can, as a community of faith, implore his guidance and grace as students and teachers begin or continue their commitment to what is loosely called “higher learning.” 

By invoking the Spirit’s life-giving assistance this evening, we are situating ourselves within a very ancient tradition of the Church, when students and their mentors at the first medieval universities gathered to offer the Eucharist and pray that the Lord and Giver of Life would direct their hearts, minds and wills in the various activities they were taking up anew.

Today, then, we join that long stream of men and women who have prayed that their sometimes anxious and always exciting search for the truth continue in the year ahead guided by the Gift of God, the Spirit of Truth who proceeds from the Father (cf. Jn 15:26) and promised to us by Jesus to guide this quest.

God has not placed us in a world of fearful darkness where, groping our way in desperation, we seek some ultimate meaning. He has not abandoned us in a desert void, bereft of any sense, where in the end only death awaits us. On the contrary, God has shone forth in our darkness with his light, the “light of the world” (Jn 8:12), Jesus Christ and the Spirit whom he sent to continue his mission.[1]

There is one particular grace of the Holy Spirit that I would suggest above all to the students here tonight. This year learn to foster a “contemplative outlook” on life. Do not let your intellectual and moral sensibilities be shaped by the darkly ironic world of popular culture. For its part, having a contemplative outlook will enable you to embrace the search for truth as possible and exciting, to perceive life’s deeper meaning, and to grasp its utter gratuity, its beauty, its invitation to freedom and its call to responsibility. A contemplative person accepts reality as a gift from God[2] and learns to appreciate the drama of a world lacerated by the tragedy of sin but even more wondrously graced by the staggering mystery of the Word made flesh (cf. Jn 1:14).

A contemplative person pursues wisdom and not merely scattered information. And they are not hindered in their search by erecting a wall of separation between reason and faith. “Faith never limits the ambit of reason, but opens it to an integral vision of man and of reality, preserving one from the danger of reducing the person to human material’.”[3]

It’s always good to recall at an Opening Mass that the great Catholic tradition of higher learning rests on the conviction, well expressed by St. Thomas, that “whatever its source, truth is of the Holy Spirit.”[4] One of the great strengths of the Colleges on the UBC campus is that at their intellectual core is a mission not just to communicate a “heap of notions unconnected to one another,” but to provide “a true evangelical hermeneutic for better understanding life, the world and humanity, . . .based on the truths of reason and of faith.”[5]

But a contemplative outlook and the thrill of exploring the wonderful world of learning armed by the light of faith can only come about if that light in you comes from the Holy Spirit, that same Spirit who moved Mary to say “yes” to Gabriel, who guided the steps of Jesus’ mission, who loosed the tongues of the fearful apostles on the first Pentecost, and who leads his Church “into all truth” (Jn 16:13). “This is the Spirit who – in the words of a good Jesuit Walter Burghardt – plays on your mind as on harp strings, plucks gently here and strongly there, never compelling, always inspiring. This is the Spirit who lets you see beneath the surface of things, beneath the veneer of your fear, lets you become if, like Jesus, you allow his Spirit to take hold of you.”[6]

The Parable of the Unmerciful Servant

Now I would like to say a few words about today’s Gospel. In the parable of the unmerciful servant we hear about forgiveness offered, received and then denied.

The king offered forgiveness to the debtor who owed him a huge amount: moved with pity, he wrote off the enormous debt. The forgiveness begged of him was granted (cf. Mt 18:26-27).

This, of course, is the divine way: this is how our gracious God acts with us. Remember that the forgiveness he offers is really of sins – not just bad manners: the original sin with which I am born but removed in Baptism, and the many real, actual sins, both venial and mortal, which mark my journey through life.

The forgiveness offered by the king – who represents God the Father – is utterly gratuitous. It did not have to be earned by the servant. The servant can, in fact, never repay the king the enormous debt owed, but – as a sign that he really wants the debt relieved – he should act in the same forgiving way to those indebted to him.

But, as the second sad section of the parable unfolds, we find the forgiven servant doing the exact opposite. The forgiveness he received is not offered again; he breaks the chain of forgiveness. What should have been a happy ending finishes tragically.

The parable exposes the way that our choice to forgive – or not – brings consequences. If we are unwilling to forgive, then we remain unforgiven – and not because God does not want to forgive, and not because he is lacking in offering unconditional love, but because we have made our hearts impenetrable to his mercy. His mercy is infinite, but we can limit how much we receive. We can dam up his mercy, which is always ready to overflow.[7]

The Parable and the Lord’s Prayer

If we do not “pass on” the love received by keeping the chain of mercy intact, then this refusal brings with it the rejection of the gift of forgiveness offered to ourselves. We have sought forgiveness without forgiving. And that doesn't work. The links on the chain are broken.

As disciples, we have the Lord’s command at the Last Supper: “love one another as I have loved you” (cf. Jn 13:34). And that love includes forgiveness. There is no love without forgiveness either on God’s part or on our part.

In the petition in Lord’s Prayer, “forgive us as – just as – we forgive,” we are asking God to measure out to us a limit: forgive me, just as much as I forgive others. If we are unforgiving, then that is what we are asking for! And that is what is granted.

Power to Forgive

Yes, forgiveness is often hard, even painful and crucifying. Perhaps it is not difficult for matters of little importance, but when we have been betrayed, slandered, lied to, taken advantage of – it is beyond our ability to forgive.

In telling us to forgive one another unreservedly, Jesus is asking us to do something utterly radical, but he also gives us the grace to do it. This is why the need to forgive is good news. In Pope Francis’s words: “What appears, from a human perspective, to be impossible, impractical and even at times repugnant, he makes possible and fruitful through the infinite power of his cross. The cross of Christ reveals the power of God to bridge every division, to heal every wound, and to re-establish the original bonds of brotherly love.”[8]

As the Colleges begin this academic year, let us ask the Holy Spirit to kindle in our hearts not only the grace to forgive as we have been forgiven but also to illumine our minds with a vision and understanding of the magnificent world God has created for us and redeemed by the Death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ which now becomes present for us in this Eucharist.


[1] Cf. Benedict XVI, Address at Heilgenkreuz Abbey (9 September 2007).

[2] Cf. St. John Paul II, Evangelium Vitae, 83.

[3] Francis, Address to University Roma Tre (17 February 2017).

[4] St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, I-II, q. 109, art. 1, ad 1.

[5] Francis, Address to the Pontifical Gregorian University, Pontifical Biblical Institute and Pontifical Oriental Institute (10 April 2014).

[6] Walter J. Burghardt, Still Proclaiming Your Wonders (New York/Ramsey: Paulist Press, 1984), 191.

[7] Cf. Barbara E. Reid, “Endless Forgiveness, America, 205:5 (29 August - 5 September 2011), 31.

[8] Francis, Homily, Seoul (18 August 2014).