Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy. Lord have mercy.

We say these words at the beginning of each Mass. We do so because in this way the tone is set for us as we begin the sacred celebration entrusted to the Church by Christ for all ages.

We do not come to Mass simply to gather in friendship or to celebrate ourselves and our own goodness.

Instead we enter into the deepest reality of our existence, our very relation to God who is infinitely good.

That means that if we approach the Mass and Jesus properly, there will always be within us a feeling reflected in the words of St. Peter recorded in the Gospel of Luke. When Jesus called Peter to be with Him, the Apostle’s first reaction was to fall on his knees and say, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.” (Lk 5:8).

Like St. Peter, for us to begin to see Christ clearly, even through the prism of our own human sinfulness and limitations, is to be begin to see ourselves rightly. And in that case, to use an analogy borrowed from Bishop Robert Barron, we are like a window.

In the dark the window can seem fine and clear. But when the sun shines on that window directly, the flaws and the need for cleaning suddenly become visible. So too, before Christ, the need for forgiveness of the sinfulness present in the souls of each of us becomes apparent.

This Jubilee Year of Mercy we celebrate at the request of Pope Francis, reminds the world that Jesus is always offering that mercy. God wants to forgive.

But the Jubilee Year moves us to an essential condition for forgiveness. We must desire and seek divine mercy. For that reason, we say “Lord have mercy” to begin each Mass.

In this column we have also been reflecting on the need to give mercy ourselves and to bring God’s mercy to the world. We have been reflecting on the corporal or bodily works of mercy of late. Those are the acts of goodness and faith that bring God’s mercy to those in need. We have already reflected upon feeding the hungry and giving drink to the thirsty. The next corporal work of mercy is to clothe the naked.

Once again, this work of mercy draws our hearts and minds to Jesus on the cross. In the way of the cross, the Tenth Station recalls that Jesus is stripped of His garments. He hung nearly naked, exposed to the elements and the eyes of the world during His three hours of suffering. That means that those in this world who lack proper clothing are a direct reflection of Christ.

Of course in our part of the world that becomes a most acute need during the winter. The lack of proper clothing during one of our arctic snaps could even be lethal. The need for clothing is particularly important for those who are homeless.

As part of the human condition, clothing has another function. It is to give dignity. To lack clothing entirely or even partially is to have our bodies unworthily exposed to the world. To avoid shame and embarrassment we seek to vest ourselves. But if we are not clothed in a manner consistent with our place and time, we also stand apart from our brothers and sisters. Often this is a visible indication of poverty.

As we seek to clothe the naked, we might ponder our own accumulation of clothes and jackets and shoes. We might ask if we have long unused but wearable items that could be given to those in need?

Do we have excess that not only could shield others but which, by giving them away, we could seek to live more simply? Could we even go and purchase items to be given directly to a clothing drive?

Food for the hungry, drink for the thirsty, clothes for the naked. The Jubilee Year of Mercy reminds of the many daily ways to bring Christ to the world and to those in need of His love.