The glorious promise is this: Christ is both human and divine. Though fully human, he did not sin. The painful reality is this: The Church is both human and divine. Though divine, her children sin.
And thus it shall ever be until the end of all things. After all, our sin is precisely why Christ took on human nature, lived it, breathed it, but did not give in to temptations. "O, happy fault..."
But when we approach him, we can only do so in the community of sinners, "of whom I am the chief." We compass each other about like a swarm of locusts. We tread on each other and eat each other alive.
In the great wisdom of the Creator, however, we cannot reach him alone. We want so much to break free of the swarm and run onwards alone, but we can only go together. That means, in plain terms, that we are on a pilgrim way full of other pilgrims who will hurt us.
Perhaps they hurt most when they wear the semblance of authority. When the person you love most and want to trust most hits you hard, the world falls to pieces. When that person is a minister or layman of authority in your local Church, the Church seems to fall to pieces, too. The promise of Christ, though, is that the Church will endure. She may be ravaged, but the gates of hell will not prevail. Her own children cannot destroy her.
How can we still sing "O, happy fault, O, necessary sin of Adam"? What possible joy can we find in this state: where the leaders of the pilgrims can beat them to death with bureaucracy or worse?
The answer is this: We can find ALL JOY in this.
O, happy fault. If I was not prone to pride and temper, I would not have You, my King. If your minister had not betrayed me, I would not have You. If your enemies had not whispered in secret against me, I would not have you. If they did not need Your mercy, I would not have received your mercy.
O, happy fault. If I had not crucified my King, He would not now forgive me.