I usually like to keep things light on Friday evening when I post. And the video at the bottom of the page is something of a spoof on drug commercials, treating sin like a drug. Wait till you hear the side-effects disclaimer at the end. 🙂
I also thought today of doing a little post on the sins that cry to heaven for vengeance since I was talking to a parishioner today, who is suffering because his employer has not paid him for three weeks. The employer, a government agency says this is due to “administrative difficulties” in the bureaucracy where he works. He was angry (rightfully so) and getting desperate. I reminded him that withholding wages was a sin that cried to heaven and that God was angry with him. The rest of our conversation I’ll keep private.
With that painful situation in mind and how the negligent sin of one affects another, it occurs to me offer a few lists of sins, that may prove as helpful reminders to all of us in our struggle against it. Sometimes it helps to see sin in categories and to be able to “name the demons,” as a help to combat them. These are just a few helpful lists. There are others and I invite you to add to them. For the sake of brevity, I do not fully develop them all.
In keeping with the video below, consider these lists a kind of “Sin on Sale” a clearance sale if you will. The lists below can be purchased separately or together in packages. But do beware of the potential and likely side-effects!
The sins that cry to heaven for vengeance: (CCC 1867)
Murder (Gn 4:10),
Sodomy (Gn 17:20-21),
Oppression of the poor (Ex 2:23),
Defrauding workers of their just wages (Jas 5:4).
Seven Deadly Sins
Pride
Greed
Lust
Anger
Gluttony
Envy
Sloth
Sins against the Holy Spirit:
Despair,
Presumption,
Envy,
Obstinacy in sin,
Final impenitence,
Deliberate resistance to the known truth.
Sins against faith: (CCC 2088-2089)
Hesitating doubt – delaying the overcoming of doubts, difficulties, or objections due to indifference or laziness
Voluntary doubt – disregarding of the truth or on-going resistance to overcoming doubt.
Incredulity – willful refusal to assent to revealed truths of the faith.
Heresy – the choosing and over-emphasizing of certain truths of the faith to the exclusion of others.
Schism – Refusal of submission to the Pope or Catholic communion.
Apostasy – Total repudiation of the Christian faith.
Sins against God’s love: (CCC 2094)
Indifference
Ingratitude
Lukewarmness
Sloth – sorrow or aversion at the good things offers to the soul
Hatred of God – usually rooted in prideful notion that refuses to be second to God.
Sins against the Honor that is Due to God – (CCC 2111-2117)
Superstition – the elevation of certain practices such that they are regarded as more important or powerful than prayer or trust in God.
Idolatry – divinizing what is not God, false worship, holding creatures more precious than the one Creator who is God.
Divination – undertaking practices meant to disclose the future, e.g. horoscopes, astrology, palm reading, recourse to mediums etc.
Magic and spiritism – attempts to tame occult powers and place them at our service, or to have power over others in this way.
Sins of Irreligion: (CCC 2118-2128)
Tempting God – Putting God to the test
Sacrilege – stealing sacred things, profaning sacraments or liturgical actions, desecration or speaking irreverently of sacred persons, places or things that are blessed or consecrated to God.
Simony – Buying or selling spiritual things, seeking to profit on them merely because they are blessed.
Atheism – Denying the existence of God, to include the practical atheism of materialism and utopian notions that man can save himself.
Agnosticism – an indifference toward God that refrains form formally denying his existence.
Sins against the name of God: (CCC 2142-2155)
Promises – infidelity to promises or oaths made with God’s name
Profanity – using God’s name in vain ways that do not respect its sacred character, (e.g. empty expressions like “Oh my God!”
Blasphemy – to speak ill of God, trivialize, curse or ridicule him. By extension, to ridicule sacred things or the Saints.
Swearing – calling God to witness in matters that are trivial. Also swearing a false oath, committing perjury when under oath.
Cursing – using God’s name to curse or call down evil on others.
Sins against the Lord’s Day: (CCC 2185)
Refusing the worship owed God
Refusing the joy proper to the Lord’s day
Refusing the relaxation of mind and body commanded on the Lord’s day.
Refusing reasonable works of mercy proper to the Lord’s day.
Sins Against life: (CCC 2268-2283)
Intentional homicide – all unjust killing
Abortion
Euthanasia
Suicide
Acting with reckless disregard for the safety and life of our self or others
Sins against Chastity: (CCC 2351-2357)
Lust – willfully entertaining inordinate or disordered desires for sexual pleasure
Masturbation
Fornication
Adultery
Pornography
Prostitution
Rape
Homosexual Activity
Sins of Injustice and theft: (CCC 2409ff)
Theft
Deliberately keeping lent things
Damaging the goods of others without restitution
Fraud
Paying unjust wages
Forcing up prices
Refusing to pay debts
Work poorly done
Tax evasion
Forgery
Excessive and wasteful practices
Hoarding
Excessive and unnecessary exploitation of natural resources
Refusing our legitimate obligations to the community
Refusing our legitimate obligations to the poor
Just a few helpful lists drawn from the Catechism with reference also to the Catholic Source Book and other places.
So there it is a clearance sale on sin. Now here’s a word from our sponsor!
The Gospel from Thursday’s daily Mass contains memorable but often misunderstood lines:
Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest … Take my yoke upon you … For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.
The most important word in this sentence is the word “my.” Jesus says, my yoke is easy; my burden is light.
What is a yoke? It’s a wooden truss that makes it easier to carry a heavy load by distributing the weight across a wider part of the body or by allowing the weight to be shared by two or more people or animals. In the picture above, the woman is able to carry the heavy water more easily with the weight distributed across her shoulders rather than in her hands. The load is eased by involving more parts of the body. Yokes are also used to join two animals and help them work together in pulling a load.
What is Jesus saying? First, He is saying that He has a yoke for us. That is, He has a cross for us. Notice that Jesus is not saying that there is no yoke or cross in following Him. There is a cross that He allows, and He allows it for a reason and for a season.
Easy? Jesus says that the cross he has for us is “easy.” The Greek word χρηστὸς (chrestos) is better translated as “well fitting,” “suitable,” or even “useful.” In effect, the Lord is saying that the yoke he has for us is suited to us; it fits us well and has been carefully chosen so as to be useful for us. God knows that we need some crosses in order to grow. He knows what those crosses are. He knows what we can bear and what we are ready for. Yes, His yoke for us fits us well.
But notice again that little word: “my.” The cross or yoke that Jesus has for us is well suited and useful for us. The problem comes when we start adding to that weight with things of our own doing. We put wood on our shoulders that God never put there and never intended for us. We make decisions without asking God. We undertake projects, launch careers, accept promotions, and even enter marriages without ever discerning if God wants this for us. And sure enough, before long our life is complicated and burdensome; we feel pulled in many different directions. But this is not the yoke of Jesus; this is largely the yoke of our own making. Of course it is not easy nor does it fit well, because Jesus didn’t make it.
Don’t blame God; simplify. Be very careful before accepting commitments and making big decisions. Ask God. It may be good, but not for you. It may help others, but destroy you. Seek the Lord’s will. If necessary, seek advice from a spiritually mature person. Consider your state in life; consider the tradeoffs. Balance the call to be generous with the call to proper stewardship of your time, talent, and treasure. Have proper priorities. It is amazing how many people put their career before their vocation. They accept promotions, take on special assignments, and think more about money and advancement than their spouse and children. The burdens increase and the load gets heavy when we don’t ask God or even consider how a proposed course of action might affect the most precious and important things in our lives.
Jesus’ final advice, then, is this: Take my yoke and only my yoke. Forsake all others. Simplify.
So stop “yoking around.” Take only His yoke. If you do, your burdens will be lighter. Jesus says, “Come and learn from me. I will not put heavy burdens on you. I will set your heart on fire with love. And then, whatever I do have for you, will be a pleasure for you to do. Because, what makes the difference is love.” Love lightens every load.
Balanced spiritualties seek to find a middle ground between fascination and holy fear, a kind of reverent bowing before the Holy One Who draws me close. We saw it in yesterday’s reading in which Moses was fascinated by the burning bush and went nearer to investigate it. He was cautioned to revere this mystery:
An angel of the LORD appeared to Moses in fire flaming out of a bush. As he looked on, he was surprised to see that the bush, though on fire, was not consumed. So Moses decided, “I must go over to look at this remarkable sight and see why the bush is not burned.” When the LORD saw him coming over to look at it more closely, God called out to him from the bush, “Moses! Moses!” He answered, “Here I am.” God said, “Come no nearer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place where you stand is holy ground” (Exodus 3:2-6).
In Latin the words fascinosum and tremendum were often used to evoke this needed balance between attraction and holy fear:
Fascinosum is the source of the word “fascinating.” It refers to something that calls to me, draws me, piques my interest; it is something that strongly attracts and is deeply satisfying.
Tremendum is the source of the word “tremendous.” It refers to something awesome, too big to comprehend or grasp. In response, we draw back in a kind of reverential fear mixed with bewilderment. We feel small before the tremendous.
The human person before God is drawn by His inexorable beauty yet compelled to fall prostrate before His awesome majesty. Scripture speaks of this experience in many places. Here are but a few:
I saw the Lord seated on a high and lofty throne, with the train of his garment filling the temple. Seraphim were stationed above; each of them had six wings: with two they veiled their faces, with two they veiled their feet, and with two they hovered aloft. “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts!” they cried one to the other. “All the earth is filled with his glory!” At the sound of that cry, the frame of the door shook, and the house was filled with smoke. Then I said, “Woe is me. I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” Then one of the Seraphim flew to me, holding an ember which he had taken with tongs from the altar. He touched my mouth with it. “See,” he said, “now that this has touched your lips, your wickedness is removed, your sin purged” (Isaiah 6:1-5).
And Jesus was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light. And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, conversing with him. Then Peter said to Jesus in reply, “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud cast a shadow over them, then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate and were very much afraid. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Rise, and do not be afraid” (Matt 17:1-6).
I [John] saw seven gold lampstands and in the midst of the lampstands one like a son of man, wearing an ankle-length robe, with a gold sash around his chest. The hair of his head was as white as white wool or as snow, and his eyes were like a fiery flame. His feet were like polished brass refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing water. In his right hand he held seven stars. A sharp two-edged sword came out of his mouth, and his face shone like the sun at its brightest. When I caught sight of him, I fell down at his feet as though dead. He touched me with his right hand and said, “Do not be afraid. I am the first and the last, the one who lives” (Rev 1:15-17).
Note the pattern of these theophanies: They are drawn by God and behold His beauty (fascinosum), and yet they instinctively fall prostrate and need to be reassured by Him (tremendum).
It is an awesome thing to fall into the hands of a living God (Heb 10:31). The most interesting passage to me is the third one, involving John the Beloved. This is the same John who, at the Last Supper, felt perfectly comfortable leaning back on the Lord’s shoulder and asking Him a question. Yet now as he beholds the full glory of Christ in the heavenly realm, John falls prostrate before Him. The Lord’s glory is fully unveiled here, and John, who appreciates the beauty and describes it to us, is ultimately compelled to fall down.
We are living in an era in which God has been trivialized in many ways. Perhaps it was an overcorrection to a more severe time when any misstep could result in a quick trip to Hell if we didn’t get to confession immediately. Fear was a strong motivator for many people in those days.
By the 1970s the common feeling was that God didn’t seem to care what we did; His main purpose seemed to be to affirm us. As for Jesus, gone was the unrelenting and uncompromising prophet of the Scriptures, only to be replaced by a kind of “Mr. Rogers” or “Buddy Jesus” who just went around saying nice things. The Jesus who cleansed the Temple, rebuked unbelief, demanded primacy in our life, insisted on the cross, warned of coming judgment and the possibility of Hell, and spoke with such authority that even the guards sent to arrest Him came back empty handed saying “No one has ever spoken like that man”—this Jesus was nowhere to be found.
We need a return to the balance of fascinosum and tremendum. We all sense a deep desire for God. We are drawn to Him in all His beauty and glory, but we are mere creatures and it is appropriate for us to have a reverential fear of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. It may well be that God will reassure us, but our instinct to tremendum is a proper and biblical one. The biblical saints knew both fascinosum and tremendum, and they show us what a true encounter with God includes.
This does not mean that our liturgies need be somber, for reverence and joy can occupy the same heart. In the end, it is God whom we worship, and falling to our knees is wholly fitting. Seeking the necessary purification and striving for the holiness without which no one will see God (Heb 12:14) is appropriate. I wish you plenty of fascinosum and equal doses of tremendum!
As the title acknowledges, most scholars consider Mark’s Gospel to be that of Simon Peter. Tradition says that Mark was Peter’s secretary or scribe, and the recollections he recorded are really those of Peter.
One of the things that make Mark’s Gospel unique is its sense of immediacy. Part of this is due to his frequent use of the word “immediately” (eutheos in Greek)—more than forty times in what is the shortest of the four Gospels. Here are just a few examples:
And immediately the Spirit drove [Jesus] into the wilderness (Mk 1:12).
And when He had gone a little further, He saw James the son of Zebedee, and John his brother, who also were in the ship mending their nets, and immediately He called them (Mk 1:19-20).
And they went into Capernaum; and immediately on the sabbath day He entered into the synagogue and taught (Mark 1:21).
Another aspect of the Gospel of Mark contributing to its vibrancy and sense of immediacy is Mark’s tendency to render things in the present tense. Here is how Michael Pakaluk describes it:
Mark varies his verb tenses in apparently unpredictable ways. Sometimes he uses the present tense, sometimes the imperfect, sometimes the “aorist.” Most translations solve the problem by throwing everything into the past tense. And yet this removes the vividness that Mark’s frequent use of the historic present conveys. But when one approaches the text as originally a spoken narrative, one can generally retain Mark’s tense changes …. Someone speaking from memory … will change tenses to keep the hearer’s attention, but mainly because, as he is speaking “from memory,” he finds it easy to revert to the viewpoint of what it was like to be there (Introduction 24-25).
That is one of the things that make this new translation so interesting and refreshing. It puts the reader right into the scene, watching the action unfold. Consider Pakaluk’s translation of the beginning of Mark Chapter 3:
He entered the synagogue again. A man with a withered hand was there. They were watching him intently, to see if he would heal the man on the Sabbath, so they could accuse him. So Jesus tells the man with the withered hand, “Stand up in the middle.” He says to them, “Is it allowable, on the Sabbath, to do good or to do evil? To save a life or to put to death?“ They were silent. He looks around at them with anger, pained that their hearts are like stone, and he says to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” The man stretched it out. His hand was restored to normal. The Pharisees walk out, and immediately started to scheme against him, with the Herodians, to find some way to destroy him (Mark 3:1-6).
Notice the calm shifting between the past tense and the “historic present.” It is as if we are there in the room witnessing the events while our interpreter and storyteller, Mark, adds commentary for us.
Pakaluk’s skillful translation makes the text new and vibrant for me. It is like listening as Mark (who records Peter’s preaching) speaks directly to me. Engendering such a feeling is important because the Gospels are not meant to be like “spectator sports.” We are not just watching the lives of others unfold; this is our life, too. We are in the Gospel narrative: we are Peter; we are Mary Magdalene. These are not just distant events being recalled from memory; they are made present to us and become our story, too.
Another aspect that makes Mark’s Gospel so interesting and narrative-like is his use of the Greek work “kai.” Pakaluk describes it in this way:
In Greek, sentences in a continuous narrative must be joined, each with the one before, through a “connecting particle,” such as “hence,” “now,” “therefore,” “but,” and so on. Writers of ancient Greek typically vary these connectors for subtlety and argument. But Mark is famous for largely limiting himself to one such connective—the simplest one, at that—“and” (kai). The majority of the sentences begin with “and.” Translators usually deal with the problem by just leaving the word out. But Mark’s usage makes more sense if we think of how we speak when we tell a story: “So I left my driveway. And I turned around the block. And I saw a man with a pig. And I thought it was strange. So I stopped to ask him about it. And he said…” And so on (Introduction 24).
In this new translation of Mark, Pakaluk retains a lot more of the “and” (kai) connectors, varying its translation just a bit for variety: “and,” “so” “once again,” and so forth. This retention of “kai” also adds to the narrative or storytelling quality of the text.
I am very grateful for this fresh translation of the Gospel of Mark and hope you find it as helpful as I do. Along with the new translation, Pakaluk provides solid commentary that includes the consideration of many different interpretations of the text. If you (or perhaps your Bible study group) are looking for an interesting and informative book, consider this one.
In this week’s Office of Readings comes a crucial question from Elijah. It came at a time of widespread apostasy among the Jewish people. Elijah summoned a multitude to Mt. Carmel in the far north of Israel:
Elijah appealed to all the people and said, “How long will you straddle the issue? If the Lord is God, follow him; if Baal, follow him.” The people, however, did not answer him (1 Kings 18:21).
The Baals were the gods of the Canaanites. It had become expedient and popular to worship them because the ruling political leaders, the apostate King Ahab and his wicked wife Jezebel, had set forth the worship of the Baals by erecting altars and sacred columns. All who wished their life to go well and to have access to the levers of prosperity were surely “encouraged” to comply. Jezebel funded hundreds of prophets of Baal and the goddess Asherah. She also had many of the prophets of Israel killed and forced others into hiding. Through a policy of favoritism and fear, the true faith was being suppressed and false ideologies were being promoted.
At a critical moment Elijah thus asked his question. In effect he told them that they needed to decide whether to serve the Lord God out of courageous fidelity or the Baals out of cowardly fear.
We, too, must decide. In our times, the true faith has been undermined in the hearts of many by plausible liars, cultural war, and political correctness. Those who strive to hold to the true faith are called hateful, bigoted, and intolerant. A legal framework is growing that seeks to compel compliance to the moral revolution and abandonment of the biblical worldview. Social pressures are at work as well, seeking to force compliance through political correctness, through suppression of speech and ideas, and through the influence of music, cinema, and art.
The same question must be asked of us:
How long will you straddle the issue? If the Lord is God, follow him (whatever the cost). If Baal is your god, follow him! If you prefer what is popular, trendy, politically correct, and safe, go for it. But understand that if you do so, your decision is increasingly for Baal, not the Lord. In a culture that insists you celebrate fornication, homosexual acts, transgenderism, abortion, euthanasia, and all sorts of intemperance, realize that your decision to comply amounts to a choice for Baal.
Some claim that they are not really making a fundamental choice against God and for the modern Baals. Rather, they prefer to think that they are being “tolerant,” that they are pleasant moderates seeking to build bridges and keep the faith “mainstream.”
Today the lines are starkly drawn. The choices required of us are clear. The ancient maxim has never been more true: tertium non datur (no third way is given). Jesus says, You cannot serve God and mammon (Mat 6:24). James adds, Adulterers! Do you not realize that a friendship with the world is enmity at God? (James 4:4) Elijah’s question cannot be watered down. There are two sides in the moral battle of our times: choose a side.
In Elijah’s time, the people did not want to answer. The text says that they just stood there, silent. But silence does not make the question or the choice go away. Indeed, prolonged silence to so fundamental a question becomes an answer in itself. Silence and fence-sitting are not valid answers when the lines are so clearly drawn.
To the fence-sitters is directed this warning in the form of an old story:
A man once refused to take sides in the critical and disputed matters of his day, nobly declaring that he was tolerant of all views. Taking his seat on the fence he congratulated himself for his moderation and openness; others did too. One day the devil came and said, “Come along now, you’re with me.” The man protested, “I don’t belong to you. I’m on the fence!” The devil simply replied: “Oh, but you do belong to me. I own the fence.”
“How long will you straddle the issue? If the Lord is God, follow him; if Baal, follow him.”
Saints sometimes say daring things. Today, on the feast of St. Bonaventure I’d like to reflect on a saying by him. First, though, let’s consider a certain idiom he used, drawn from biblical times.
In Scripture there is an “absolute” way of speaking that many of us moderns misconstrue. For example, Jesus says (quoting Hosea 6:6), For I desire mercy not sacrifice (Matt 9:13). To those untrained in Jewish and biblical idioms, the meaning would seem to be, “Skip all the sacrifice; God just wants you to be nice.” However, that misses the point of the idiom, which more accurately means this: “Practice mercy without neglecting sacrifice, for sacrifice is in service of mercy.” All of our rituals have the goal of drawing us to greater charity for God and neighbor. Caritas suprema lex (Charity is the highest law). Although charity is the highest law, that does not mean it is the only one. The basic Jewish and biblical idiom goes like this:
“I desire A, not B.”
This means that A is the goal, not B. However, B is not to be neglected because it is a means or a way to A (the goal).
With all this in mind, let’s consider a teaching from St. Bonaventure, who wrote something very daring—even dangerous. Because he is a saint, we must grant him the liberty that we would not give to lesser men. As a saint he ponders truth and is thoroughly reputable. In his sanctity, his thoughts go where words no longer “work.” In a sense, he must explode our categories lest we become locked in them and forget that God is greater than words or human thoughts can express.
St. Bonaventure wrote of a kind of “passover” we must make wherein we must pass from the world of words, categories, images, pictures, and preconceived notions; to God, who is mystically beyond all that. It is a moment when the “ology” (words) of our theology must step aside for the Theos (God) of our Theology. As you read this quote, remember the cautions and context we have just reviewed, especially regarding the “I desire A, not B” idiom.
For [our] Passover to be perfect, we must suspend all the operations of the mind and we must transform the peak of our affections, directing them to God alone. This is a sacred mystical experience. It cannot be comprehended by anyone unless he surrenders himself to it; nor can he surrender himself to it unless he longs for it; nor can he long for it unless the Holy Spirit … inflame his innermost soul ….
If you ask how such things can occur, seek the answer in God’s grace, not in doctrine; in the longing of the will, not in the understanding; in the sighs of prayer, not in research; seek the bridegroom not the teacher; God and not man; darkness not daylight; and look not to the light but rather to the raging fire that carries the soul to God with intense fervor and glowing love. The fire is God
[From The Journey of the Mind to God, by Saint Bonaventure, bishop (Cap. 7, 1.2.4.6: Opera omnia 5, 312-313)].
Unschooled readers will cringe at the apparent dichotomies: grace not doctrine, longing not understanding, sighs not research, bridegroom not teacher, darkness not daylight.
But this is why we studied the idiom beforehand. “I desire A, not B” means that B serves A, not that B is of no value. Thus, doctrine leads to and serves grace. Our teachings point to heights where words no longer suffice. Our understanding and intellect inspire the will to desire Him whom our minds could never fully contain or comprehend.
Thus our goal is not doctrine (precious and necessary though that this). Our goal is Him to whom the doctrine rightly points. Doctrine is the roadmap, the path, not the destination. Follow the map! It is foolish to try to invent your own religion. Yes, follow the map! But remember, the map is not the goal; it is not the destination. God is the goal and desired destination, and He cannot be reduced to our words or categories.
The great theologian Bonaventure knew the limits of theology. Theology makes the introductions sets the foundation, set limits beyond which we may not go. But there comes a moment for silence and a dark night of the senses and even the intellect. Now the heart and the fiery light of God’s Holy Spirit must do His work. He will not overrule doctrine but build upon and transcend it.
St. Peter speaks to this same process:
We also have the message of the prophets, which has been confirmed beyond doubt. And you will do well to pay attention to this message, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts (2 Peter 1:18-19).
Yes, the prophets and the teachings must be attended to; they are like a lamp shining in a dark place. But there comes a moment when those teachings are confirmed and a greater light dawns, the Morning Star rises in our hearts. The truth of doctrine gives way to the Truth Himself, who is also the Way and the Light.
Listen to Bonaventure; listen to Peter. The Creed is essential. Memorize it and don’t you dare go off and invent your own religion! But there comes a moment when the creed steps aside and, pointing to God, says, “He is the one of whom I speak. Go to Him and sit silently at His feet.”
One could easily reduce this Sunday’s Gospel to trite moral advice such as this: Help people in trouble; be kind to strangers. While these are certainly good thoughts, I would argue that it is about far deeper things than human kindness or ethics. This is a Gospel about the transformative power of God’s love and our need to receive it. It is not a Gospel that can be understood as a demand of the flesh.
Let’s look at the Gospel in three stages.
I. The Radical Requirements of Love – As the Gospel opens, there is a discussion between Jesus and a scholar of the law as to a basic summation of the law. The text says, There was a scholar of the law who stood up to test him and said, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “What is written in the law? How do you read it?” He said in reply, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.”
The scholar quotes the Shema, a summary of the law known to every Jew. Notice how often the word “all” occurs. There is a radical nature to the call of love that cannot be avoided. When it comes to love, the requirement is not to give what is reasonable, to give a little, or perhaps to give a tithe. No, the call is to give God all our heart, mind, being, and strength, and to love our neighbor as though he were our very self.
Our flesh recoils at this sort of open demand; immediately we want to qualify it and quantify it somehow. The flesh seeks refuge in law, asking, “What is the minimum I can do while still meeting the requirements?”
Love, however, is by its very nature open-ended and generous. Love is extravagant; it wants to do more. Love wants to please the beloved. A young man in love does not say to himself, “What is the cheapest gift I can get her for her birthday?” No, he will see an opportunity to show his love; he may even spend too much. Love does not think, “What is the least I can do?” Love thinks, “What more can I do?” Love is expansive and extravagant.
The flesh, that fallen and sin-soaked part of our nature, blanches at such expansive talk and brings out the lawyer in us, negotiating for lesser terms.
II. The Reductionism that Resists Love – After giving the beautiful answer about love, the scholar of the law (and there is a lawyer in all of us) reverts to form and speaks out of his flesh. The text continues, But because he wished to justify himself, he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
In other words, he wants to say, “If I have to love my neighbor, let’s make this ‘neighbor’ category as small and manageable as possible.”
Note how quickly he has retreated into a kind of fearful reaction to the broad expanse of love. His fear is likely rooted in the fact that he has reduced the Shema into a moral platitude, as if he could pull the whole thing off out of his own power. He recoils and demands more favorable terms of surrender. Because he thinks he has to do it all on his own, he tries to reduce the scope to something manageable. Perhaps he is willing to consider the people on his block to be his neighbors, but those two or three blocks away? That’s just too much.
The fearful lawyer in him has started negotiating a kind of debt relief. He seeks to narrow down this “neighbor” category. The Lord isn’t buying it; He will expand the concept even further than the Jewish notions of the day.
To be fair, there is a lawyer in all of us, always negotiating for more favorable terms. And while it is not wrong to ask for some guidance in understanding the law, we all know that the lawyer in us is trying more to evade the terms than fulfill them.
In a way each of us is like the typical teenager. Every teenager seems to be a natural-born lawyer. Give a teenager a rule and he will parse every nuance of it in order to escape its demands or water down the terms.
Some years ago, I was teaching 7th grade religion in our parish’s Catholic school. I told the kids, “Do your work … and no talking!” Within moments, a young lady started singing. Interestingly, her name was Carmen (which means song in Latin). When I rebuked her for breaking the rule, she replied, “I wasn’t talking; I was singing … and you didn’t say anything about singing.”
I remember my thoughts when I was in high school: I couldn’t break the 6th commandment (forbidding adultery) because I wasn’t married and certainly wouldn’t be intimate with a married woman since they were all “old.” Yes, the lawyer in me was at work.
This is how we are in our rebellious, fearful, and resentful flesh. Hearing a law, we go to work at once, parsing every word, examining every nuance so as to evade its intent in every way possible. If we are going to follow the law at all, we’re going to try to find a way that involves the least possible effort.
So often Catholics and other Christians talk more like lawyers than lovers: Do I have to go to confession? How often? Do I have to pray? How long? Do I have to give to the poor? How much? Why can’t I do that? It’s not so bad; besides, everyone else is doing it.
Sometimes, too, we seek to reduce holiness to perfunctory religious observance. Look, I go to Mass; I put something in the collection basket; I say my prayers. What more do you want? Perhaps we think that if we do certain ritual observances (which are good in themselves) we have bought God off and do not need to look at other matters in our life. Because I go to Mass and say a few prayers, I can put a check mark in the “God box” and don’t really need to look at my lack of forgiveness, my harsh tongue, or my lack of generosity.
This is reductionism. It is the lawyer in us at work, seeking to avoid the extravagance of love by hiding behind legal minimalism. It emerges from a kind of fear generated by the notion that we must be able to do everything on our own, by the power of our own flesh. But that’s not possible. You can’t pull it off on your own. But God can, and that is why He commands it of us.
Our fleshly notions have to die. Our spirit must come alive with the virtue of hope that relies trustingly on God’s grace to bring out a vigorous and loving response in us. Law and the flesh say, “What are the minimum requirements?” Love says, “What more can I do?” This is the gift of a loving heart that we must seek.
III. The Response that Reflects Love – The Lord then paints a picture of what His love and grace can accomplish in someone: Jesus replied, “A man fell victim to robbers as he went down from Jerusalem to Jericho. They stripped and beat him and went off leaving him half-dead. A priest happened to be going down that road, but when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. Likewise, a Levite came to the place, and when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. But a Samaritan traveler who came upon him was moved with compassion at the sight. He approached the victim, poured oil and wine over his wounds and bandaged them. Then he lifted him up on his own animal, took him to an inn, and cared for him. The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper with the instruction, ‘Take care of him. If you spend more than what I have given you, I shall repay you on my way back.’ Which of these three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the robbers’ victim?” He answered, “The one who treated him with mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
There is a very important phrase that must not be missed, for it gives the key to the Samaritan man’s actions: “… [he] was moved with compassion ….” Note that the sentence uses the passive voice (“was moved”). That is to say, it was not so much that the Samaritan acted, but that he was acted upon.
More specifically, love and grace have moved within him and are moving him. The Greek verb used here is ἐσπλαγχνίσθη (esplagchnisthe), a third-person singular passive verb meaning “to be deeply moved” or “to be moved to compassion.” The verb is also in the aorist tense, signifying that something has happened but also that it has a kind of ongoing dimension to it.
Why is this phrase “was moved” so important? Because it indicates the power of the gift of grace. So many of our fears about what God asks and what love demands are rooted in the idea that we must accomplish them out of our own flesh—that is not the message of this Gospel. In the New Covenant, the keeping of the Law is received, not achieved. The keeping of the commandments is a work of God within us to which we yield. Keeping the commandments and fulfilling the law are the results of love, not the causes of it.
We do not know the Samaritan’s history; the Lord does not provide it to us. He is telling a story and the Samaritan is only a literary character in it.
We must clearly understand the teaching of today’s Gospel: Our receiving and experiencing of love is and must be the basis of our keeping of the law. Experiencing and receiving God’s love for us equips, empowers, and enables us to respond extravagantly as joyful lovers rather than as fearful lawyers.
Love lightens every load. When we love God and love other people, we want to do what love requires. Even if there are difficulties that must be overcome, love makes us eager to respond anyway.
When I was in the 7th grade, I found myself quite taken by a pretty girl named Shelly. I was “in love.” One day she was walking down the hall struggling to carry a pile of books to the library; I saw my chance! I jumped in and offered to carry her books. Mind you, I was skinny as a rail with no muscles at all, and those textbooks were heavy—but I was glad to do it despite the effort. Love does that; it lightens every load and makes us eager to help, even at great cost.
Perhaps it’s just a silly story of an awkward teenager, but it demonstrates what love does. It “moves” us to be generous, kind, merciful, patient, and even extravagant. We don’t do what we do because we have to, but because we want to.
The Samaritan in this story, was “moved” with and by love to overcome race, nationality, fear, and danger. He generously gave his time and money to save a fellow traveler.
Let love lift you. Let it empower you, equip you, and enable you! Go to the Lord and pray for a deeper experience of His love. Open the door of your heart and let the love of God in. Go to the foot of the cross and remember what the Lord has done for you. Let what He has done be so present in your mind and heart that you are grateful and different. Let God’s love come alive in you.
As a witness, I promise you that love lightens every load and makes us eager to keep the commandments, to help others, to forgive, to show mercy, to be patient, to be kind, and to speak the truth in love to others. Yes, I am a witness that love can and does change us. I’m not what I want to be, but I’m not what I used to be. Love has lifted me and lightened every load of mine.
Again, today’s Gospel is not mere moral advice. The main point is that we must let the Lord’s love into our heart. If we do, we will do what love does and we will do it extravagantly—not because we have to but because we want to.
The grace of love lightens every load and equips us for every good work.
This song says, “More of His saving fullness see, more of His love who died for me”
The advertisement below depicts all kinds of animals screaming in fear at the thought of a shark. Sharks do indeed inspire fear.
What is interesting is that Scripture says it is not sharks that inspire fear among the animals; it is we:
And God blessed Noah and his sons and said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth. The fear and dread of you will fall on every living creature on the earth, every bird of the sky, every creature that crawls on the ground, and all the fish of the sea. They are delivered into your hand (Gen 9:1-2).
While some larger animals occasionally attack (and even kill) human beings, such occurrences are rare and typically a result of fear we have incited in them. Even the fiercest predators generally avoid us, only engaging when they feel threatened. We are not a staple of any animal’s diet. In this matter we are unique, and we manifest the authority and stewardship God gave us over all living things.
Consider well, then, our dignity and responsibility as those appointed by God to oversee His creation.
