“When I was in seminary, we studied this passage with an old priest, Father Fontenot, who had spent many years of his life at a parish called St. Maurice’s near Storyville, the famous red-light ward of New Orleans. Father Fontenot had endless St. Mo stories from his years there. His faithful were the gamblers, the loan sharks, the bums, the druggies, the prostitutes, and their pimps—all of these folks would show up for his evening Mass at St. Maurice’s.

“And Father Fontenot thought nothing of it: because as the Gospel tells us Jesus ministered most to the sinners in this world. And so what this parable touches on, and what Father Fontenot saw in real life, is that good-intentioned hypocrisy of those who practice faith as a get-out-of-jail-free card for their sins. A lot of Father Fontenot’s stories involved Nellie Flower, an infamous madam of her day. Nellie knew and liked the young Father Fontenot, and she would insist that all of her girls go to him once a week . . . for confession.”

Timmerman cocked an eyebrow and looked out at the first set of pews in front of him. A couple chuckles filled his pause. With this mild encouragement, he went forth.

“Now, Father Fontenot was not a prurient man who got into details, but let’s just say he became quite familiar with how precisely these women tabulated their sins.”

A few more laughs—and Timmerman grinned. Anne was unamused. This is what he thinks of us: sinners counting sins.

“And in the Gospel there are many women of ill repute that Jesus tries to save. These women come to Him, but our Lord does not judge them. Instead He offers a new covenant with God based on forgiveness.”

Anne bit her upper lip. And women are known for only one thing, huh, Father?

“And what Jesus is careful to remind us about is that there is good in people of all stations, even the women of the oldest profession. And we as a Christian society believe in this idea. Think about all the movies that feature the hooker with the heart of gold. Take for instance Gone With the Wind—my mother’s favorite novel. There’s the character of Belle Watling, who runs the brothel and covers for Rhett when he is accused of killing the Yankee soldiers. She saves his life with her alibi, but the scandalized women of Atlanta won’t speak to her.”

Oh yes, if only this Church treated women like it were the nineteenth century . . .

“And whether it’s Atlanta during the Civil War or in Judea two thousand years ago or a house of ill repute on Rampart Street, there are women, sinners though they are, who show faith and are more likely than the second son of the vineyard owner to enter into the kingdom of heaven . . .”