
A father reports that he used to have trouble getting his son to clean his room. The father would insist that he, “Do it now,” and the son would always agree to do so, but then he wouldn’t follow through—at least not right away. After high school, the son joined the Marine Corps. When he came home for leave after basic training, his father asked him what he had learned.
“Dad,” he said, “I learned what ‘now’ means.”
For me, when it comes to cleaning house, “Now” generally means the day or a few hours before I expect company; otherwise, there’s a good chance that there will be dirty dishes in the sink, dirty socks on the floor, a pile of clean laundry waiting to be folded on the dining room table, and if the cat got sick on my desk, it would be in better shape than it is now. I guess I agree with Phyllis Diller and Erma Bombeck when it comes to housework. Phyllis says, “Housework won’t kill you, but then again, why take the chance?” And Erma writes, “My theory on housework is, if the item doesn’t multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?”
I’m guessing they weren’t real keen on the word “Now” when it comes to housework, either.
The Bureau of Labor Statistics reports that, on average, we spend 2.01 hours per day on household chores, and yes, women spend more time than men—1.67 hours for men and 2.34 for women. (Source) Clearly, they’ve never been to my house. I eventually get everything nice and clean, but it doesn’t last. Give it a few days, and the dishes will start to stack up again, and the dirty socks will be on the floor. Before you know it, the whole place needs a solid napalm strike to clear it all up.
In our Gospel reading, Jesus talks about the servants in a house who remain awake and alert, and the owner of the house who guards against the thief. The servants fulfill their duties for the Master—taking care of his needs and property—and the owner protects against the thief who wishes to break in and steal. In both cases, we understand that the home Jesus is speaking about is our soul—the dwelling place for the Holy Spirit of God. As God’s children, we are to take care of our souls, keeping them pure and free of sin, and we need to guard them so that the devil cannot come in and destroy them. But for me, sometimes the inside of my soul looks a bit like my house—a little messy.
On July 13, 1917, Our Lady of Fatima appeared for the third time to the three children—Lucia dos Santos, Jacinta Marto, and Francisco Marto. During the visitation, she gave them a brief but terrifying vision of hell. Lucia wrote, “She opened Her hands once more, as She had done in the two previous months. The rays of light seemed to penetrate the earth, and we saw as it were a sea of fire. Plunged in this fire were demons and souls in human form.” She then goes on to describe what they saw.
It was so terrifying, she later wrote, “How can we ever be grateful enough to our kind Heavenly Mother, who had already prepared us by promising, in the first Apparition, to take us to Heaven. Otherwise, I think we would have died of fear and terror.”
During this same visitation, the Virgin Mary gave the children a prayer that we now know as the Fatima Prayer or O My Jesus.
“O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell; lead all souls to heaven, especially those most in need of thy mercy.”
Mary asked that the children share with the world her desire for this prayer to be said at the end of each decade of the Rosary. It is also prayed just before starting the first decade—the Our Father and the first ten Hail Marys.
When I pray my Rosary, it is during those opening prayers that I begin—or at least try—to gain some sort of focus, and on one particular day, it was the same. I recited the Creed, prayed the Our Father, the first three Hail Marys, and the Gloria Patri, and then began the Fatima Prayer, “O my Jesus…” I stopped. The next word, “forgive,” simply would not come out. I tried again. “O my Jesus…” I couldn’t go any further. Why?
There was a story circulating when I was in seminary. It told of a young man who had a vision of himself entering a room. Inside the room were all these small files—row after row of them. The drawers seemed to be large enough to hold a piece of paper no bigger than a note card. As he got closer, he saw that each of the file drawers had labels. These included such things as “Books I Have Read” and “Television Programs I Have Watched.” There were others—“Lies I Have Told” and “Comfort I Have Given.” There was one that read “Things Done in Anger” and one right next to it, “Things I Have Said in Anger.”
He pulled that one out just to see what was inside, and to his horror, he found that written on each card was something he had said in anger. Then he realized he was standing in the record room of his life. Every single event, from the very best to the most sinful, had been recorded and filed.
As he examined more of the file drawer labels, he became absolutely convinced that no one—not anyone!—should be allowed to see what was written here. But, of course, there was One who would see, and that One, Jesus, was suddenly present, standing before the man.
Without a word spoken, and instinctively, Jesus went to the drawer that held the cards depicting the most horrible of sins, pulled it out, and began to read each card. The man was horrified and heartbroken. He collapsed in shame, but as he watched, he witnessed the most remarkable thing: on each of the cards, Jesus wrote His Name, covering the sin.
There I was, trying to pray my Rosary, “O my Jesus…,” but unable to ask for forgiveness. Why? Well, it’s a bit like my house. When my house gets messy, it’s nothing new. It’s always the same mess. Dirty dishes, dirty socks, a messy desk, etc. My soul ends up the same way. When Jesus has to come in and go through the files of my life, it’s not like He pulls out a card and says, “Wow, didn’t see that coming,” or “Hey, that’s original.” No. It’s the same thing each and every time. Entire file drawers dedicated to my life with the same thing written time and time again, and Jesus signing over it again and again… O my Jesus. I found myself—not out of disobedience, but out of shame and frustration—simply unwilling to ask Him once more to forgive me for the same damn thing I asked Him to forgive me for the day or week before. O my Jesus.
I could imagine Him standing there, pen in hand, poised and ready to sign, and there I was… O my Jesus.
In our Gospel reading, Jesus said, “Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks.” Yet, I’m sitting there in the middle of a very dirty house, knowing I must do something but unable to act.
Joshua said, “Choose you this day whom you will serve.”
Quoting what the Lord said to the Prophet Isaiah, Paul wrote, “In a favorable time I listened to you, and in a day of salvation I have helped you.” Then Paul added, “Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” (2 Corinthians 6:2)
“Son, what did the Marines teach you?”
“Dad, I learned what ‘now’ means.”
And I prayed, “O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell; lead all souls to heaven, especially those most in need of thy mercy.”
I’ll share something you might find hard to accept, but it’s true: no matter how much effort you put in, your soul will get dirty. You can’t keep it clean; once it becomes dirty, you won’t be able to clean it with your own strength and power. So, when the Master comes back—when Jesus returns—He will walk into the house of your soul and He will see the mess. Your only recourse is to say to Him today—right now—“O my Jesus, forgive.” And John tells us, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9) If we confess our sins, Jesus will sign His name on the card and cover our sins.
The Psalmist writes, “For you, O Lord, are good and forgiving, abounding in steadfast love to all who call upon you.” Jesus stands ready to forgive all those who call on Him. Whatever reasons or excuses you may have—pride, shame, ignorance, stubbornness, or anything else—set it aside and humbly come before your God and King.
Let us pray… would you repeat after me: O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell; lead all souls to heaven, especially those most in need of thy mercy. Amen.





