The late Archbishop Fulton Sheen once celebrated Mass for a group of prisoners. Before delivering his homily, he looked at them and said, “The only difference between you and me is this: You were caught.”

Sheen’s remark was not meant to trivialize crime or downplay its destructive consequences. He wanted the prisoners to know that he did not see himself as morally superior. He stood before them not as a judge, but as a fellow sinner. By acknowledging his own moral vulnerability, he invited them to believe in the possibility of forgiveness and conversion, gifts that God offers to us regardless of our past.

If Sheen were alive today and witnessed the glaring double standards in how justice is often served, he would have added: “You were caught, and unfortunately, you did not have shrewd lawyers.” This would be a biting commentary on the many high-profile criminals who escape justice, thanks to expensive legal counsel and manipulative tactics. Sheen would surely cringe at the veil of respectability they wear to mask their shamelessness and utter lack of remorse.

In many ways, they resemble the smart but dishonest manager in today’s Gospel reading (Luke 16:1–13). The owner of the company discovered that the manager had been embezzling funds. Faced with the grim prospect of being jobless and poor, the manager altered the records of the company’s debtors, allowing them to pay less than they owed. He cunningly placed them in a situation where they would feel indebted to him, so he could later rely on their “utang na loob” as a financial safety net. The story ends with the owner of the company praising him for being smart.

But Jesus is not presenting the dishonest manager as a role model. Rather, He uses the story to highlight a hard truth: Wrongdoers often succeed because they act boldly and without guilt. They are unafraid to take risks and stop at nothing to achieve their goal. As Jesus says, “The children of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the children of light” (Luke 16:8).

Jesus’s words are a direct challenge to good, law-abiding people who often remain silent and passive. He urges them to stop acting like bystanders and instead pursue justice with the same courage and determination that the corrupt show in committing evil. As Archbishop Sheen once observed, “It is tragic that those who are just and honest lack fire and conviction, while criminals shamelessly flaunt their evil deeds with passionate conviction.”

Shamelessness is a symptom of moral and spiritual bankruptcy. The Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset once wrote that human beings are the only creatures in touch with the core of their being, which is spiritual. Other creatures focus outwardly, always on guard and vigilant for survival. Human beings, however, seek not only survival but also authenticity and integrity—both essential to healthy spirituality.

A vital element of healthy spirituality is shame. It is a constructive emotion because it reminds us that we are imperfect, that we have inherent limitations, and that our personalities have rough edges. We feel shame when our faults or wrongdoings—things we prefer to keep hidden—are suddenly exposed. Shame brings with it guilt and a sense of accountability which, when acknowledged, awaken our conscience, stir sorrow for our failings, and inspire us to change for the better.

In the past, words like sin vergüenza or walang hiya were spoken like curses. Shame was almost synonymous with lasting disgrace and public humiliation, not just for the individual, but for his or her entire family. Today, however, many commit crimes without a trace of shame or remorse, even after being caught and exposed. In a society where shamelessness is mistaken for strength and guilt is viewed as weakness, we risk losing the very virtues that define our humanity—integrity, honesty, and a deep sense of responsibility and accountability.