Envy Illustrated

The Deadly Sin of Envy, Hieronymus Bosch (1480)

In the reading at daily Mass for Thursday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time, we encounter an envious Saul. Upon David’s return from slaying Goliath, the women sing a song praising him. Saul should rejoice with all Israel but instead he is resentful and envies David:

Saul was very angry and resentful of the song, for he thought, “They give David ten thousand, but only thousands to me. All that remains for him is the kingship.” And from that day on, Saul looked upon David with a glaring eye. Saul discussed his intention of killing David with his son Jonathan and with all his servants (1 Sam 18:6-9).

Saul’s reaction is way over the top; this is what envy does.

What is envy? Most people use the word today as a synonym for jealousy, but traditionally speaking, they are not the same.

When I am jealous of you, there is something good that you have or are, that I want to have for myself. Jealousy is sinful when one desires something inordinately or unreasonably.

In traditional theology, envy is quite different (cf Summa Thelogica II, IIae 36.1). Envy is sorrow, sadness, or anger at the goodness or excellence of someone else because I take it as lessening my own.

The key difference is that with envy (unlike with jealousy) one does not merely want to possess the good or excellence of another but rather to destroy it.

Notice in the reading above that Saul wants to kill David because he thinks that David’s excellence makes him look less excellent, less great. Saul should rejoice in David’s gifts, for they are gifts to all Israel. David is a fine soldier, which is a blessing to everyone. The proper response to David’s excellence should be to rejoice, to be thankful to God, and where possible, imitate David’s courage and excellence. Instead, Saul sulks. He sees David as stealing the limelight and possibly even the kingdom from him. Envy rears its ugly head when Saul concludes that David must die. The good that is in David must be destroyed.

Envy is diabolical. St. Augustine called envy the diabolical sin (De catechizandis rudibus 4,8:PL 40,315-316) because it seeks to minimize, end, or destroy what is good. Scripture says, By the envy of the Devil death entered the world (Wis 2:24). Seeing the excellence that Adam and Eve (made in the image of God) had and possibly knowing of plans for the incarnation, the Devil envied Adam and Eve. Their glory lessened his — or so he thought — and so he set out to destroy the goodness in them. Envy is ugly and diabolical.

The virtues that cancel envy: The proper response to observing goodness or excellence in others is joy and zeal. We should rejoice that they are blessed because when they are blessed, we are blessed. Further, we should respond with a zeal that seeks to imitate (where possible) their goodness or excellence. Perhaps we can learn from them or from their good example.

Envy is ugly, even when it masquerades as kindness and fairness. For example, the modern tendency to give everyone an award or to not keep score and instead say, “everyone is a winner,” may be rooted in subtle forms of envy cloaked in kindness. Such approaches diminish the truth that some are gifted, some are better than others in certain areas. I will not always be the best nor will I always be the winner. Rather than hide goodness and excellence, we should celebrate it. The proper response to excellence and goodness is joy and zeal.

Saul went to dark places because of his envy; we, too, must beware this deadly sin.

In the story Snow White, the wicked queen envied Snow White, who was “the fairest of them all.” Considering the young girl’s beauty as a threat, the evil queen cast a spell on her to remove her beauty. Envy consumed the evil queen and the satanic-like qualities of this scene well illustrate the darkness of this diabolical sin.

Kindness Is Not the Same as Love

Many decades ago, C.S. Lewis wrote about the problem of substituting kindness for love:

We [speak] nowadays almost exclusively [of God’s] lovingness …. And by love, in this context, most of us mean kindness—the desire to see others happy …. What would really satisfy us would be a god who said of anything we happened to be doing, “What does it matter as long as they are contented?” We want, in fact, not so much a Father in heaven as a grandfather in Heaven—a senile benevolence who, as they say, liked to see young people enjoying themselves ….

Kindness, as such cares not whether its object becomes good or bad, provided only that it escapes suffering.

[But] As scripture points out, it is bastards who are spoiled: the legitimate sons who are to carry on the family tradition are punished …. With our friends, our lovers and our children we are exacting and would rather see them suffer much than be happy in contemptible and estranging modes.

[Hence] If God is love, He is, by definition, something more than mere kindness …. [And] though he has often rebuked and condemned us, He has never regarded us with contempt. He has paid us the intolerable compliment of loving us, in the deepest, most tragic, most inexorable sense  (The Problem of Pain, Chapter 3).

We do well to ponder that being loving is not the same as being kind. Love should not be reduced to mere kindness, but our reductionist culture has tended to do so. The results have often been problematic. To reflect on this problem, I’d like to use some insights from an article by Peter Kreeft, written some years ago.

Kreeft defines kindness as “sympathy, with the desire to relieve another’s suffering” [Envoy Magazine, Vol 9.3, p. 20]. Kindness is certainly a good thing and has an important place in our relationships. It is evidenced by goodness, charitable behavior, pleasantness, tenderness, and concern for others. According to Aristotle, kindness is an emotion manifesting itself in the desire to help someone in need without expecting anything in return.

However, as Kreeft himself notes, it is a great mistake to equate kindness with love. Kindness is an aspect of love but it is necessarily distinct from it, for it sometimes happens that love, which wills what is best for the other, may deem it best not to remove all suffering. For example, a father may impose punishment on his child out of love.

Kindness generally seeks to alleviate suffering and negativity, but love understands that suffering often has a salvific role. My parents disciplined me out of love. Had they been merely kind to me, I would likely have been spoiled, undisciplined, and ill-prepared for life.

Paradoxically, the more we love, the more we see mere kindness diminish. Consider how kind we can be to strangers. We may sometimes give money to strangers with no or few questions asked, but if our children ask for money we want to know why. And even if we give it to them, we may lecture them about being more responsible with their money. The interaction may be less kind, but it is more loving because it seeks to solve the underlying problem rather than merely relieving the symptom.

The good eclipses the best. Herein lies the danger in reducing love to kindness: In simply seeking to alleviate the suffering of the moment or to give people what they want, many deeper issues go unresolved and can even be worsened.

Welfare has engendered a slavish dependence in some people in our country—and it is not just the urban poor to whom I refer. There are many other entitlements that some feel they cannot do without. There are numerous corporate subsidies as well that fall into this category.

Rather than addressing the root causes of poverty, dependence, or even poor business models, kindness interrupts love’s deeper role and treats only the suffering of the moment. In this sense, the merely good (kindness) replaces the truly best (love). True love gives what is best, not merely what is immediately desired. Kindness too often looks merely to relieve whereas true love looks to heal, something that often involves painful choices.

Further, many false expectations are centered on the exaltation of kindness over love. In our culture, this is manifested in the fact that suffering of any sort is seen as unbearable and even a reason for legal action. It has also led to our insistence on comfort accelerating out of control. The demand for euthanasia flows from this sort of thinking as well.

A final, terrible effect often flows from mistaking mere kindness for love: it disposes many towards atheism. Here I will simply quote Peter Kreeft directly, because he says it so well:

It is painfully obvious that God is not mere kindness, for He does not remove all suffering, though He has the power to do so. Indeed, this very fact—that the God who is omnipotent and can, at any instant, miraculously erase all suffering from the world, deliberately chooses not to do so—is the commonest argument that unbelievers use against him. The number one argument for atheism stems from the confusion between love and kindness [Peter Kreeft, Envoy Magazine, Vol 9.3, p. 20].

Kindness is certainly a positive attribute and surely has its place, but we must carefully distinguish it from love. Exalting kindness over love amounts to a denial of the wisdom of the cross. Kindness focuses on comfort and the alleviation of suffering, which is itself a good thing, but love is a greater thing, for it focuses on healing and wills what is best, not merely granting what is desired. Sadly, however, many prefer temporal relief to healing.

This video tells a beautiful story, one of how kindness is tied to sacrificial love and seeks to bring healing (even at great cost) rather than mere relief.

Jesus and Bending the Law

In the Gospels we are reading this week at daily Mass we see Jesus coming into conflict with the religious authorities of His day, who accuse Him of violating the law.

  • In Monday’s reading Jesus is accused of not following the fasting rules observed by the Pharisees and the disciples of John the Baptist. Jesus rebuffs them by saying, in effect, that rejoicing with the Lord (the very giver of the law) is a weightier matter than the observance of fasting traditions (Mk 2:18ff).
  • In Tuesday’s reading Jesus is accused of permitting His disciples to violate Sabbath norms (by shelling grain as they walked along). The Lord rebuffs their argument by saying, in effect, that feeding the hungry is a weightier matter than observing a lesser Sabbath norm (Mk 2:23ff).
  • In Wednesday’s reading Jesus is once again accused of violating Sabbath laws by healing a man on the Sabbath. He rebuffs their claims by teaching that works of charity outweigh lesser Sabbath laws.

Perhaps a way of summarizing Jesus’ replies is in the old Latin expression Caritas suprema lex (Charity is the highest law). In other words, laws are meant to regulate our relationships with God and with others. The law is for something and someone, not merely against things.

Indeed, our relationship with God’s law is complex; often we don’t get it right. When it comes to God’s law we cannot forget that it is personal. That is, it is given to us by a loving God who wants to save us. Therefore, it is important to know both the law and the lawgiver, who is God.

In the Deuteronomic code, each law is often followed by this phrase: “I am the Lord.” It is as if the Lord is saying, “This is God talking, the God who saved you, the God who parted the Red Sea for you, the God who led you through the desert and into the Promised Land. I, the one who loves you, am telling you this.” The old rabbis put it this way: When God added to the law the phrase “I am the Lord,” He was saying, “Look, I am the one who fished you out of the mud. Now come over here and listen to me.”

So the law is personal and we must strive to know both the law and the lawgiver. Two errors are to be avoided when it comes to the law:

The first error that we can make is that of “legalism,” which elevates the law to the point of idolatry, such that one is kept “safe” by the law rather than by a saving relationship with God, the lawgiver. In such a system there is little room for understanding the Lord’s intent.

There is also a failure to grasp the often general nature of God’s law, which covers common circumstances but does not address every specific situation perfectly. For example, the obligation to attend Mass is usually binding, but illness or the need to care for the ill can be a valid excuse.

The second error we can make is at the other end of the spectrum: assuming a kind of carte blanche based on the claim that “God is love” and doesn’t really care if we follow the moral law. Never mind that God Himself gave us the moral law. Making this error, some claim that God doesn’t care if they skip Mass, live with their girlfriend, etc. He doesn’t care about that sort of thing because He is a loving God, affirming and merciful, a God who is not uptight the way the Church is. A person with such an attitude dismisses large parts of the moral law based on his own authority and the exaggerated notion that he knows what God wants better than even God’s very own revealed word. Such a person claims that a loving and kind God wouldn’t ask difficult things or rebuke sin. Such a notion confuses true love with mere kindness. While kindness is an aspect of love, so are challenge, rebuke, and even punishment.

Neither error will do. The key is to find a balance such that both the law and the lawgiver are properly respected.

As usual, St. Thomas Aquinas provides great insight. While the context of his remarks is the arena of civil law, the principles he sets forth are applicable to divine and ecclesial law as well. He takes up the question of law and the lawgiver in his Summa Theologica.

St. Thomas considers whether one who is under a law may act apart from the letter of the law.

He answers with a qualified yes and, as always, provides important distinctions and premises. He begins with a helpful quote from St. Hilary of Poitiers, who noted that the limits of written law are subject to the limits of all speech, including in its written form:

Hilary says (De Trin. iv): “The meaning of what is said is according to the motive for saying it: because things are not subject to speech, but speech to things.” Therefore, we should take account of the motive of the lawgiver, rather than [merely] of his very words (Summa Theologica I, IIae, Q 96, art. 6, Sed contra).

St. Thomas goes on to note that laws are intended for the common good and speak to the general or common situations, but we must take into consideration that no lawgiver can envision every possible circumstance.

Now it happens often that the observance of some point of law conduces to the common weal in the majority of instances, and yet, in some cases, is very hurtful. Since then the lawgiver cannot have in view every single case, he shapes the law according to what happens most frequently, by directing his attention to the common good. Wherefore if a case arises wherein the observance of that law would be hurtful to the general welfare, it should not be observed (Ibid, respondeo).

St. Thomas presents the following example:

For instance, suppose that in a besieged city it be an established law that the gates of the city are to be kept closed, this is good for public welfare as a general rule: but, it were to happen that the enemy are in pursuit of certain citizens, who are defenders of the city, it would be a great loss to the city, if the gates were not opened to them: and so in that case the gates ought to be opened, contrary to the letter of the law, in order to maintain the common weal, which the lawgiver had in view.

I’m sure we can all think of more modern examples such as breaking the speed limit to rush someone to the hospital, or jaywalking in order to help someone in trouble. Charity is the highest law and saving life is more important than observing laws that are merely cautionary.

St. Thomas next notes the important point that it is only in urgent cases that the law may be set aside without consultation with lawful authority:

Nevertheless, it must be noted, that if the observance of the law according to the letter does not involve any sudden risk needing instant remedy, it is not competent for everyone to expound what is useful and what is not useful to the state: those alone can do this who are in authority, and who, on account of such like cases, have the power to dispense from the laws.

If, however, the peril be so sudden as not to allow of the delay involved by referring the matter to authority, the mere necessity brings with it a dispensation, since necessity knows no law.

Thus urgency and necessity permit quick dispensations of the law, whereas ordinary situations require us to consult and defer to those to whom jurisprudence and legislation are consigned.

Again, St. Thomas is referring here to what is essentially civil law, but if these truths and distinctions apply to civil law with all its imperfections, how much more so to God’s law! If civil law ought not to be casually set aside without consultation and deference to proper authority, how much more so God’s law.

God has set forth a lawful authority in the Magisterium of the Church, to ponder His revealed law and teachings and to interpret them properly and authoritatively. He has also given the Church the power to bind and loose. What Thomas says regarding civil law (it is not competent for everyone to expound what is useful and what is not useful … those alone can do this who are in authority, and who, on account of such like cases, have the power to dispense from the laws) is also the case with respect to God’s law and Church law. No Catholic (except in urgent moments of grave necessity) should dispense with the moral law on his own. No one is a judge in his own case.

That said, even God’s law needs proper application to particular circumstances. St. Thomas (quoting St. Hilary) noted the following:

The meaning of what is said is according to the motive for saying it, because things are not subject to speech, but speech to things. Therefore, we should take account of the motive of the lawgiver, rather than [merely] of his very words. He also commented, then the lawgiver cannot have in view every single case, he shapes the law according to what happens most frequently, by directing his attention to the common good.

Therefore, the Lord left His Church to apply His word to particular circumstances. Without the remembrance that even God’s law speaks to the general and not to every specific case, the written law, univocally read without any reference to God’s overall will, could be reduced to obtuse absurdities and a hurtful legalism.

So law—especially God’s law—is essential and it usually applies, but there are exceptional circumstances; many laws can and do admit of certain exceptions. St. Thomas traces out for us a good balance to seek between legalism and a sort of autonomy that claims the personal right to be dismissive of the law as one sees fit. Many in the modern world get this balance wrong.

Here is a song that reflects the immature, rebellious attitude toward the law that is common today:

Where Are You from? A Reflection on Recent Tensions over Immigration, Race, and Ethnicity

A priest friend of mine who immigrated to this country from Jordan back in the 1970s is often asked, “Where are you from?” He humorously answers, “I am from my mother’s womb.”

True enough! There is an even more fundamental answer, rooted in Scripture, which speaks to the origin of every human person: You are from the loving will and heart of God. Before you were ever formed in your mother’s womb, God knew you and thought about you (see Jeremiah 1:5). He set into motion everything necessary to create you. He didn’t just get your parents to meet, but your grandparents and great-grandparents, going all the way back. All of this so that you could exist just as you are. Having thought of you and conceived you in greatest love, He knit you together in your mother’s womb. You were skillfully wrought in that secret place of the womb and you are wonderfully, fearfully made. Every one of your days was written in God’s book before one of them ever came to be (See Psalm 139).

This biblical answer is true of every one of us. Whatever our nationality, ethnicity, or race, our truest origin is from God, from His heart and His loving “yes” to our existence. This means that I am your brother and you are my brother or sister. The Catechism of the Catholic Church has this to say:

Respect for the human person proceeds by way of respect for the principle that “everyone should look upon his neighbor (without any exception) as ‘another self,’ above all bearing in mind his life and the means necessary for living it with dignity.” … [F]ears, prejudices, and attitudes of pride and selfishness … will cease only through the charity that finds in every man a “neighbor,” a brother.

The duty of making oneself a neighbor to others and actively serving them becomes even more urgent when it involves the disadvantaged, in whatever area this may be. “As you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me” (CCC # 1931-1932).

This is Catholic and biblical teaching. One day we shall have to account for how we recognized and treated the Lord in others. God is our Father; you are my brother or sister. Christ the Lord is our brother, too, for He joined our human family; He is not ashamed to call us His brethren (Hebrews 2:11). Wherever you’re from in this world, this origin from God is deeper and older than any earthly origin.

Here on this earth, human movement is constant. We emigrate and immigrate, as individuals, families, and groups. Wars, famines, persecution, economic conditions, the desire for freedom, and educational opportunity all play a role in this movement. Although the phrase seems clichéd, we really are a nation of immigrants. Most of us are from somewhere else, often only a couple of generations back.

Catholics bring a significant experience and witness to immigration to the United States. Many came here during a huge wave of immigration that lasted from about 1880 to 1950. When we came in those years, we were often coming from troubled lands and were extremely poor. There was famine in Ireland; economic and political turmoil in Poland, Lithuania, Italy, and parts of Germany. Many came here not knowing English and at first lived in tenements in large cities. With that poverty went many of social problems: crime, drinking, and so forth. The work of those first generations was anything but easy: laboring in coal mines, laying railroad tracks, working in steel mills, tedious work in textile factories mills. The jobs paid poorly and required long hours; they were jobs that no one really wanted. Additional scorn was heaped upon Catholics due to our faith. The Protestant majority of the time was troubled to see the country suddenly teeming with Catholics, whose religion they often scorned and whose loyalty to the United States they doubted. Slowly, that first wave of Catholics took its place and moved up into better paying jobs. They moved into more slowly into positions of political leadership. Yes, Catholics have endured great scorn in this land, both on account of their religious as well as their status as European peasants.

Prior to 1865, most African-Americans in this country had been brought here against their will. They then suffered great disdain and racism at the hands of the very country that brought them here in chains. The many Black Catholics I have known over the years, especially the older ones, remember well the double scorn they felt for being Black and Catholic.

The most recent wave of immigration into our country is largely from the south. Similarly, poverty and/or persecution are often part of what draws them here. Most of them are Catholic, and like so many immigrants before them, they perform essential services and often take jobs that no one else wants. As was the case during the 19th and 20th centuries, there is crime. And yes, some immigrants are successful, and others remain trapped in poverty.

It is alleged that recently our President, in a moment of anger, said some unacceptable, hurtful things. He spoke not only of nations, but implied that certain nations bring us better immigrants than others. I am not so sure that we have the scales to say who is “better.” Man sees the appearance, but God looks into the heart. It is true that people with technical, scientific, or academic knowledge contribute a lot to our country, but it is also true that we need immigrants at every level of the economy. We need those willing to do all sorts of work, and those with all different kinds of practical know-how.

Personally, I am quite happy with the immigrants who have come to the United States in recent decades. I think that they have added a lot to the economy and to the Church. They are hardworking and want to share in the American experience. By the second generation, most of them speak English well. While I cannot countenance those who enter the country illegally, I am perhaps more willing than many to view their illegal entry as stemming from desperation rather than flippant disregard for our laws.

I recognize that immigration reform is needed. It is a complex issue and concerns for border security are legitimate. We cannot take the whole of the world’s poor or be overrun with every refugee crisis, but we also cannot ever forget that these are our brothers and sisters. Whatever dysfunctional countries or economies they come from, remember that many of us came from similar ones. People don’t typically leave an idyllic environment.

I do not know all the possible legal and social solutions, but something of a picture emerges in Catholic parishes of what things could look like. Cardinal Wuerl paints this picture:

The sight from the sanctuary of many a church in our archdiocese offers a glimpse of the face of the world. On almost any Sunday, we can join neighbors and newcomers from varied backgrounds. We take great pride in the coming together for Mass of women and men, young and old, from so many lands, ethnic heritages, and cultural traditions. Often we can point to this unity as a sign of the power of grace to bring people together (The Challenge of Racism).

Indeed, our parishes are ethnically and racially diverse. The rich beauty of diversity in the unity of our faith is manifest everywhere. “Catholic” means “universal” and it could not be more obvious in Washington, D.C (as in many other regions) that Catholics come from everywhere! This diversity is from God Himself, who has not only created the rich tapestry of humankind but also delights to unite us all in His Church.

“Babylon and Egypt I will count among those who know me; Philistia, Tyre, Ethiopia, these will be her children and Zion shall be called ‘Mother’ for all shall be her children.” It is he, the Lord Most High, who gives each his place. In his register of peoples, he writes: “These are her children,” and while they dance they will sing: “In you all find their home” (Psalm 87:1-7).

Dr. Martin Luther King remarked on the role of the Church back in the days of the civil rights movement:

There is a more excellent way, of love and nonviolent protest. I’m grateful to God that, through the Negro church, the dimension of nonviolence entered our struggle. If this philosophy had not emerged, I am convinced that by now many streets of the South would be flowing with floods of blood (Letter from Birmingham jail).

We are currently locked in many fierce debates. Our discourse grows ever more contentious, our language ever coarser. Anger (some of it quite understandable) reaches new levels. In the midst of the ugliness, consider this reminder:

Therefore, each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to his neighbor, for we are members of one another. … Let no unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building up the one in need and bringing grace to those who listen. … Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, outcry and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and tender-hearted to one another, forgiving each other just as in Christ God forgave you (Eph 4:26-32).

We who are Christians should lead the way in helping to lower the temperature. We are past the boiling point now and we are getting scalded more and more.

Maybe the answer begins in asking this simple question: “Where are you from?” Know the answer to this question theologically and religiously rather than nationally. The truest answer is this: “You are from God and so am I.”

If what I have written angers you, I am sorry. If you think me naïve, I ask you to remember something else about me: I am Charles, your brother.

 

A Picture of a Prophet – A Homily for the Second Sunday of the Year

The Calling of Samuel, by Joshua Reynolds

The first reading for Sunday Mass speaks to us of the call of Samuel. In examining it, we can see what it is that makes a great prophet. Put more theologically, we can see the ways in which God’s graces form a great prophet.

Samuel was surely one of the most significant prophets of the Old Testament and lived at a critical time, as Israel shifted from the time of the judges to the time of the monarchy. Ultimately, it was he who would see Israel through the difficult time of Saul’s reign and prepare and anoint them for David’s kingship to follow.

What, then, are some of the ways in which God prepares Samuel and every prophet (this means you) for mission? Consider these five.

1.  The CLOSENESS of a great Prophet – In the first reading, we find the young Samuel sleeping in the temple of the Lord. In those days, the temple was not yet in Jerusalem nor was it a permanent building; it was a tent structure in Hebron. Samuel, as one in training for temple duties, is sleeping near the Ark of the Covenant, which carried the presence of God. Thus we see that a great prophet begins and remains so by staying close to the Lord.

We must do the same if we wish to be great prophets to our family and friends. How will parents give prophetic witness to their children if they are distant from the Lord? How will a priest preach with authority and power if he does not stay close to the Lord?

How do we draw close to the Lord? Daily prayer, devout reading of Scripture, frequent confession, weekly reception of Holy Communion, and a spirit of wonder and awe. Ask for these virtues. Stay close to the Lord. Great prophets stay close to the Lord.

2.  The CONSTERNATION of a great Prophet – The first reading depicts Samuel as struggling with some confusion as to what he is hearing and from whom. God is calling, but Samuel doesn’t get it. He struggles to figure out what is happening to him. A look at the call of the great prophets reveals that most of them struggled with their call. Moses felt old, inarticulate, and inadequate. Jeremiah felt too young; Isaiah, too sinful. Amos would have been content to remain a dresser of sycamores. Most of the prophets felt overwhelmed and experienced consternation.

Samuel eventually figures it out who it is that is calling him and begins his journey. He had to listen for a while to do that, however.

How about you? Many of us too would want to run if God made it clear that He had something for us to do. In a way, that is a proper response, for pride is a bad trait. To be troubled, to experience a bit of consternation and anxiety, helps us to remain humble and to keep leaning on the Lord.

What is the Lord asking of you? Perhaps, like Samuel, you struggle to understand at first. Stay close to God and things will eventually become clear.

The great prophets struggled, but that is the point. They struggled with God for an answer and for a vision.

3.  The CONNECTEDNESS of a great Prophet – Notice that Samuel does not discern on his own. He seeks counsel from a wiser man. Although Eli is not a perfect teacher, God does make use of him to help Samuel.

We, too, ought to seek good, strong spiritual influences, friends and clergy, to help us to discern. Scripture says, Seek counsel from every wise man (Tobit 4:18). It is a bad idea to try to discern alone. We should cultivate relationships with wise and spiritual men and women in our journey.

The great prophets were connected to spiritual leaders and teachers. They read and consulted other prophets. God does not just call us to a vertical, private relationship with Him. He also calls us to a horizontal relationship with others. Seek wise counsel—great prophets do.

4.  The CORE of a great Prophet – Samuel is advised by Eli to say to God, Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening. A great prophet listens to God, but God does not always say easy things. He often challenges, but great prophets listen very carefully to Him. They do not try to bury His word; they do not forget what He says. They take what they hear seriously and do not compromise God’s Word.

What about us? It is easy to avoid listening to God or to compromise what we have heard, but great prophets listen carefully to Him by doing these things: reading and studying His word, observing how He speaks through creation and in the events of each day, studying the teachings of the Church, and listening to the small, still voice within carefully and prayerfully.

Do you want to be a great prophet? Then listen.

5.  The CAPABILITY of a great Prophet – We see in Samuel’s life how was gradually transformed into a great prophet of God who never compromised God’s word. The text says, Samuel grew up, and the LORD was with him, not permitting any word of his to be without effect. Because Samuel was close to the Lord, faced his own consternation, was connected to the wise, and had that core virtue of listening, he became a great prophet. The Hebrew text is more literal in saying that God did not let a word of Samuel’s fall to the ground.

Being a great prophet is a work of God. We who would and should be great prophets ourselves ought to heed the way in which God works to make great prophets. Learn from Samuel. Study all the prophets and you will see what God can do.

While most of us wish that our words had greater effect, it is less clear that we want to undertake the process necessary to get there. Ask for the gift. Ask for the gift to stay close to God, to struggle and accept some of the consternation that comes with being a prophet. Seek to be connected to wise counsel. Learn the core value of listening. In this way will God bring about in you a conversion such that none of your words will ever fall to the ground.

Our Interconnectedness as Seen in a Commercial

The commercial below reminds us that the products we use don’t just come out of nowhere. Good goes around and around. The Cheerios in the cereal box started out as seeds in the ground, but the commercial stops well short of showing everyone we should thank for the final product.

• Before sowing the seed, the ground has to be tilled and prepared.

o Thank you to the farmers as well as those who invented, designed, and build the plows.
o Thanks to the steel workers and miners, who contribute the raw materials to build the machines that till.
o Thanks to the petroleum and refinery workers who supply the fuel for the machines to till the earth.

• Once the seed is planted, water, fertilizer, and pesticides need to be supplied in order to ensure a rich harvest.

o Thanks again to the farmers, who rise early in the morning in all kinds of weather to do this work.
o Thanks to those who invented and supply the fertilizer and pesticides.

• Once the crops are ready, they must be harvested and sent to the mill.

o Thanks to those who do the hard work of harvesting.
o Thanks to the truckers and rail workers, who are responsible for conveying the material to the mills.
o Thanks to those who designed, built, and maintain the roads, rails, trucks, and rail cars.

• Once at the mill, the raw material must be processed.

o Thanks to all who work in the mills.
o Thanks to those who invented the machines and processes.
o Thanks to those who supply the steel and the parts for the machines.
o Thanks to those who repair and maintain the machinery.

• Once out of the mill, it’s over more roads and rails to the warehouses and then finally the stores.

o Thanks to all who built the warehouses and stores.
o Thanks to those who carefully monitor inventory so that we consumers are seldom faced with empty shelves.
o Thanks to those who risked their money to build the warehouses and stores.
o Thanks to the bankers, investors, and the people whose deposited money serves to make cash available for the costs for such operations.
o Thanks to the store employees, who stock the shelves and ensure that the products we need are at hand.

This is only a brief list, but never forget that a huge number of people stand behind every box of cereal, behind every other product you buy. Do you see how interconnected we are?

Are you grateful to God, who sustains all of this and from whom every good and perfect gift comes? Each of us should be!

What Does Jesus Mean When He Says to Some, “I Never Knew You”?

Every now and then someone will come to me and request parish services of some sort. Maybe it’s to plan a wedding, a baptism, or a funeral; maybe it’s to ask for money! Then I look at him or her and say, “Who are you?” (since I don’t recognize the person). “Oh, you may not know me but my mother and grandparents go here; this is our family church.” “I see, but where do you go to Mass?” I usually ask. The response is typically something like this: “Well, you know how it is, Father. I don’t get to Mass too often … but my mother comes every week!”

Well, I’ve got news for you: your Mama’s faith isn’t going to save you. You gotta have your own faith. You have to know Jesus for yourself. There are some things you just can’t borrow. Once, you depended on your mother and ultimately the Church to announce the True Faith to you; at some point, though, you have to be able to claim the True Faith as your own. Your mother can’t go to Mass for you and she can’t believe for you.

A few years ago a man came up to me in the grocery store parking lot and began to talk to me as if we were old friends. Perhaps he noticed the puzzled look on my face as I awkwardly wondered if I had ever met him. He seemed mildly offended and said, “Don’t you know who I am?” With some embarrassment, I admitted that I did not. He went on to explain that his family had been one the “pillar” families who had helped build the church and that I really ought to know who he was.

“Do you come to Mass often?” I asked. “No, but I was at my grandmother’s funeral, whom you buried. Perhaps you know who I am now!” I responded, “No. I certainly knew your grandmother, but I can’t say that I know you.” “That really hurts, Father, because if it hadn’t been for my family the church wouldn’t be there.”

Eventually I got the man to admit that he hadn’t been going to Mass for over twenty years, pretty much since he’d graduated from the parish school; his only attendance had been for the occasional funeral or wedding. “Consider this a dress rehearsal,” I told him humorously, but with ironic seriousness. “You may be angry and disappointed that I don’t know you, but it’ll be a lot worse to hear Jesus say ‘I don’t know you.’”

Indeed, one of the judgment scenarios has Jesus declare that he does not “know” some of those who seek entrance to Heaven:

  • Many will say to me on that day, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?” Then I will tell them plainly, “I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!” (Matt 7:22-23)
  • Someone asked him, “Lord, are only a few people going to be saved?” He said to them, “Make every effort to enter through the narrow door, because many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able to. Once the owner of the house gets up and closes the door, you will stand outside knocking and pleading, ‘Sir, open the door for us.’ But he will answer, ‘I don’t know you or where you come from.’ Then you will say, ‘We ate and drank with you, and you taught in our streets.’ But he will reply, ‘I don’t know you or where you come from. Away from me, all you evildoers! (Lk 13:23-27)
  • Later the other virgins also came, saying, “Lord, Lord, open up for us.” But he answered, “Truly I say to you, I do not know you.”  Be on the alert then, for you do not know the day nor the hour (Mat 25:12-13).

We may wonder how it is that the Lord does not “know” someone. Isn’t He omniscient?

Here it helps to understand that the “knowing” referred to in Scripture does not have the modern Western notion of simple intellectual knowing. To “know” in biblical terms, describes knowing through personal experience. Hence knowing someone implies an intimacy, a personal experience with another person, thing, or event. Sometimes the Scriptures use “knowing” to refer to sexual intercourse (e.g., Gen 4:17,25; Lk 1:34).

Hence the Lord, who does not force us to be in an intimate relationship with Him, is indicating in verses like these that some of the people seeking entry to Heaven (probably more for its pleasures than for its supreme purpose as a marital union with God) have refused His invitation to intimacy. He does not “know” them because they never wanted to be known by Him in any intimate way. They may have known of Him. They may even have spoken and taught of Him; but they did not want Him. They may have used Him for their own purposes, but they did not want Him. Jesus stands at the door and knocks; He does not barge in and force Himself on anyone.   

Therefore, we must each personally and individually accept the Lord’s invitation to enter our lives and transform our hearts. We cannot simply say, “My family built this church,” or “I went to Catholic school,” or “My mother goes here.”

Remember the story of the wise and foolish virgins (Matt 25:1-13)? They were waiting for the groom (in those days you waited for the groom; nowadays we wait for the bride) to show up for the wedding. Five were wise and brought extra oil for their lamps while five were foolish and did not. The groom’s arrival was delayed so the foolish ones said to the wise, “Give us some of your oil.” The wise ones responded that they could not do this because there was not enough oil for all ten of them.

You see, there are some things you just can’t borrow and some things you just can’t lend. You can’t lend your readiness to meet God to someone else. You can’t borrow someone else’s intimacy with God.

You know what happened in the story: The foolish bridesmaids went off to buy more oil and missed the groom’s arrival; when they returned they were not permitted to enter the wedding feast. In those days, when a wedding feast began the doors were locked and no one else could enter. When the foolish virgins arrived back, the groom said that he did not know them.

The bottom line is that you have to know Jesus for yourself. You can’t borrow your mother’s intimacy, relationship, or readiness. You have to have your own. No one can go to Mass for you. You can’t borrow someone else’s holiness.

There is an old gospel hymn that says, “Yes, I know Jesus for myself.” It’s not enough to quote the pastor; it’s not enough to parrot what your mother said. You have to know Him yourself.

Do you know Him? I didn’t ask, “Do you know about Him.” This is more than intellectual knowing; this is the deep, biblical, experiential knowing. Do you know the Lord Jesus? Have you experienced that He has ministered to you in the sacraments? Have you heard His voice resounding from the pulpit and in others you meet? Do you know Him? Don’t be satisfied that your mother or grandmother knew Him. You are called to know Him for your very self.

Below are a couple of renditions of the gospel classic I mentioned. The first is performed by the St. James Mass Choir; the second, by a choir from girls’ school in Poland! Watch the first and then enjoy a very different version as the song leaps across the Atlantic to Eastern Europe. What a wonderful world it is! Despite crossing and cultures and a vast ocean, the message remains the same: Yes, I know Jesus for myself.

A Portrait of Jesus the Preacher and Teacher

As a priest, I am called to preach and teach. In this, I must look to Jesus Christ as my model. Scripture speaks of His renown as a preacher and the eagerness with which many heard Him.

And when Jesus finished these sayings, the crowds were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one who had authority, and not as their scribes (Mat 7:28).

Sent to arrest him the temple guard returned empty handed saying: No one ever spoke like that man (Jn 7:46).

And all spoke well of him, and wondered at the gracious words which proceeded out of his mouth (Luke 4:22).

And the common people heard him gladly (Mark 12:37).

Let’s consider some of the qualities of Jesus as a teacher and ponder the sort of balance that He manifests. What follows is not brief and I have compiled it over the years. Even if you just glance at the red highlights and read what interests you, I pray you will find some benefit.

I.  His authority – The Scriptures often speak of the “authority” with which Jesus taught. For example, Scripture says of Jesus, he taught as one who had authority, and not as their teachers of the law (Mat 7:29). Indeed, the teachers of Jesus’ time played it safe, quoting only reputable authorities in a wooden sort of way. Jesus, however, taught with authority.

The Greek word translated as “authority” is exousia, meaning to teach out of (one’s own) substance, to speak to the substance of what is taught. Jesus would often say, “You have heard that is was said … but I say to you” (cf. Mat 5 inter al). Jesus spoke from His experience of knowing His Father and from knowing and cherishing the Law and its truth in His own life. He brought a personal weight to what He said. He knew of what He spoke; He did not merely know about it.

This personal authority was compelling. Even today, those with this gift stand apart from those who merely preach and teach the “safe” maxims of others without adding their own experience to the truth they proclaim. Jesus personally bore witness in His own life to the truth He proclaimed—people noticed the difference.

How about you? Each of us is called to speak out of the experience of the Lord in our own life and to be able to say with authority, “I can verify that everything declared by the Lord and His Body, the Church, is true because in the laboratory of my own life I have tested it and come to experience it as true and transformative!”

II.  His witness – A witness is one who recounts what he has seen and heard with his own eyes and ears, what he himself knows and has experienced. Jesus said to the Jews of his time, If I were to say that I do not know him, I would be a liar like you, but I do know him and I keep his word (Jn 8:55). He thus attested to what he personally knew. He was not just reciting things that others had said.

In a courtroom, a witness must attest to what he has seen and heard for himself; if he merely recounts what others have said it is called hearsay.

Jesus could witness to what He had heard and seen, of His Father and of us.

We cannot witness immediately to all that Jesus could, for He had lived with the Father from all eternity while we can speak only to what the Lord has done in our life and how we have come to know Him in conformity with His revealed Word.

III.  His respect for others – The Latin root of the word “respect” gives it the meaning “look again” (re (again) + spectare (to look)). Frequently in Scripture, especially in Mark’s Gospel, there appears the phrase, Jesus looked at them and said …

In other words, Jesus was not merely issuing dictates to an unknown, faceless crowd. He looked at them—and He looks at you and me as well. It is a personal look, a look that seeks to engage us in a very personal way. He is speaking to you, to me. His teaching is not just for the ancient crowd; it is for you and for me. He looks to you and He looks again. Are you looking? Are you listening?

Do you look with respect to those whom you are called to teach or to the children you are called to raise? Do you engage them by your look of respect and love?

IV.  His love and patience for sinners – Jesus could/can be very tough, even impatient, but in the end, He is willing to stay with us in a long conversation. One text says, When Jesus went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. And he began to teach them at great length (Mk 6:34). Yes, He teaches us at great length; He stays in long conversations with us. He knows that we are dull of mind and hard of heart, so He persistently and consistently teaches.

Do we do that? Or do we quickly write people off? Jesus had a long conversation with a Samaritan woman who, frankly, was quite rude to Him at first (John 4). He had a long conversation with Nicodemus, who also was at times resistant and argumentative (Jn 3). He had long conversations with His apostles, who were slow and inept.

How about us? Are we willing to experience the opposition of sinners, the resistance of the fleshly and worldly? Do we have love and patience for those whom we teach? I have met some great Catholics who were once enemies of the Faith. Someone stayed in a conversation with them. What about us?

V.  His capacity to afflict and console – Jesus said, Blessed are you, but just as often He said, Woe to you. Jesus comforted the afflicted and afflicted the comfortable. Each of us falls into both categories. We need comfort but are often too comfortable in our sins. A true prophet fears no man and speaks to the truth of God.

For a true prophet (like Jesus) there are no permanent allies to please and no permanent enemies to oppose. The determination of every moment is based on conformity or lack of conformity to the truth of God. Jesus said to Peter, Blessed are you, Simon bar Jonah (Mat 16:17), and gave him the keys to the Kingdom and the power to bind and loose. In the very next passage, though, Jesus says to him, Get behind me, Satan! (Mat 16:23)

No true prophet or teacher can say, “Correct,” or “Blessed are you” every moment because we all fall short of the glory of God. Jesus had absolute integrity when it came to assessing everything by the standard of God’s truth and Word. Do we?

VI.  His parables – Stories are an important way to teach. A story that registers with us will rarely be forgotten. It is said that Jesus used more than 45 parables; some are full stories while others are just brief images. He used parables to link His sometimes-complex teaching to everyday life and to plant a seed of truth for our further reflection.

What stories and examples do you use? Teachings that consistently fail to make use of these risk being seen as merely abstract and can easily be forgotten.

That said, parables are somewhat like riddles. They admit of various understandings and interpretations. A good parable leaves its listener wanting more, seeking a definitive interpretation.

For example, a movie will sometimes have an ambiguous ending, stirring up hope for a sequel that will provide more information. Some stories and parables are compact and definitive; others are open-ended and ambiguous, almost begging for a definitive ending.

Consider that the Parable of the Prodigal Son is not really finished. It ends with the father pleading for the second son to enter the feast. Does the son enter or does he refuse? This detail is not supplied because you are the son and you have to supply the answer. Will you enter or will you stay outside sulking because if the kingdom of Heaven includes people you don’t like then you’d just as soon stay outside?

Parables are powerful, but for different reasons. Learn stories and learn to share them!

VII.  His questions – Jesus asked well over a hundred questions in the Gospels. Here are just a few: What did you go out to the dessert to see? Why do you trouble the woman? How many loaves do you have? Do you say this of me on your own, or have others told you of me?

Good teachers ask questions and do not rush supply the answer to every question posed. A question is pregnant with meaning; it invites a search. The Socratic method uses questions to get to the truth, especially on a personal level: “Why do you ask that?”, “What do you mean by this?”, “Do you think there are any distinctions needed in your claim?”

This method makes a person look inward to his attitudes, prejudices, and presumptions. Good teachers ask their students a lot of questions; questions make people think.

Here is a list of one hundred questions that Jesus asked: 100 Questions Jesus Asked. Read them; they will make you think—a lot!

VIII.  His use of “focal instances” – Jesus does not propose to cover every moral situation a person might encounter nor does He teach every doctrinal truth in a single afternoon.

For example, many today say that Jesus never mentioned homosexual acts and from His silence conclude that He must therefore approve of them. Really? He also never mentioned rape. Do you suppose that He approves of rape? Further, He did speak of homosexual acts, through His appointed spokesmen (the Apostles) who condemned them.

No teacher can cover every possibility or every scenario. So Jesus uses “focal instances” in which He illustrates various principles.

This is most obvious in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) where, to illustrate the principle that we are to fulfill the law and not merely keep its minimal requirements, Jesus uses six examples or “focal instances.” He speaks to anger, lust, divorce, oaths, retaliation, love of enemies, prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. In Mathew 25:31ff, the Lord uses the corporal works of mercy to illustrate the whole of the Law.

These are not an exhaustive treatment of the moral life. Through the use of illustrations, the Lord asks us to learn the principle of fulfillment and then apply it to other instances.

Good teachers teach principles because they cannot possibly envision every scenario or situation. Having instructed their students in first principles, they can trust that their students will make solid decisions in many diverse situations.

Good teachers teach students to think for themselves, not in isolation, but in ongoing communion with the principles learned, and through dialogue with authorities when necessary for assistance and accountability.

IX.  His use of hyperbole – Jesus uses a lot of hyperbole. It is easier, He tells us, for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter Heaven (Mk 10:25). If your eye scandalizes you, gouge it out (Mat 5:29). There was a man who owed ten thousand talents (the equivalent of a trillion dollars today) (Mat 18:24). It would be better for you to be cast into the sea with a great millstone about your neck than to scandalize one of my little ones (Mat 18:6).

Hyperbole has memorable effect. Who of us can forget Jesus’ parable about a man with a 2×4 coming out of his eye who rebukes his neighbor for the splinter in his? I often tell my congregation, “Go to church or go to Hell,” which is my way of saying that missing Mass is a mortal sin.

Once, one of my seminary professors signaled me that I was giving an incorrect and heretical answer to a complex theological issue by saying, “Charles, you are on the edge of an abyss.” His response made me stop immediately and give the correct and orthodox answer!

Good teachers use hyperbole at the right moments.

X.  His use of servile fear – Jesus made frequent use of fear-based arguments. He warned of Hell, of unquenchable fire, and of the worm that does not die. His parables feature many summary judgements in which people are found unprepared, are excluded from Heaven, or are cast into darkness. One parable ends with a king burning the town of those who failed to accept his invitation to his son’s wedding banquet (Mat 22:7). Another has a king summoning those who rejected him so that they could be slain before his eyes (Lk 19:27). Jesus warns of the wailing and grinding of teeth. He also warns of a permanent abyss between Heaven and Hell that no one will be able to cross.

Many people today are dismissive of fear-based arguments, but Jesus used them—He used them a lot. So Jesus never got the memo that this is a poor way to teach. While the spiritually mature can respond to loving arguments, many are not that mature; thus a healthy dose of fear imparted by the threat of unending regret is often necessary.

We ought not to exclude, as many do, the myriad verses in which Jesus warns in vivid language of the consequences of repeated, un-repented sin. He is not playing games; He is speaking the truth.

To teach as Jesus did is to include warnings of judgment and of Hell.

XI.  His anger and zeal – Jesus does not hesitate to express His anger and grief at the hardness and stubbornness of many. One day He said, You unbelieving and perverted generation, how long shall I be with you? How long shall I put up with you? (Matt 17:17) In Mark’s Gospel we read, And they were bringing children to Him so that He might touch them; but the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw this, He was furious and said to them, “Permit the children to come to Me; do not hinder them” (Mk 10: 13-14). Another day, in the synagogue, Jesus expressed anger at their unbelief: After looking around at them with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart, He said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” And he stretched it out, and his hand was restored (Mk 3:5).

Yes, Jesus memorably cleansed the temple and drove out iniquity there. He engaged in heated debates with the Jewish leaders and with unbelievers. He did not hesitate to call them hypocrites, vipers, liars, and the sons of those who murdered the prophets.

This is another teaching moment that renders what is taught memorable and meaningful. Parents who never react with anger risk misleading their children into making light of or not being serious enough about wrongdoing, disrespect, or stubborn unrepentance.

We must be careful of our anger, though. We do not have the kind of sovereignty over it that Jesus did; neither are we as able to see into people’s hearts as He was.

There is a place for anger. Jesus used it—a lot, actually. Anger signals an important teaching and rebukes a lighthearted response.

XII.  His refusal to compromise – There was in Jesus very little compromise about the serious teachings of doctrine or those issues related to our salvation. He said that either we would believe in Him or we would die in our sins (Jn 8). Jesus also said that He was the only way to the Father and that no one would come to the Father except through Him. He declared that no one who set his hand to the plow and looked back was fit for the reign of God. Jesus said that no one who would not deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Him was worthy of Him. We are told to count the cost and decide now; we are warned that delay may be deadly.

Much of this is countercultural today, a time of uncertainty in which there is an inappropriate sort of pluralism that thinks that there are many ways to God. Many insist on a “softer” Christianity, in which we can love the world and also love God. Sorry, no can do. A friend of the world is an enemy to God.

Jesus teaches His fundamental truths in an uncompromising way because they are truths for our salvation. Following these truths vaguely or inconsistently will not win the day. Some disciplines need to be followed precisely.

To teach as Jesus did involves insisting that the fundamental doctrines of our faith be accepted fully and wholeheartedly.

XIII.  His forgiveness – Forgiveness may not at first seem to be an obvious way of teaching, but consider that teachers often have to accept that students don’t get everything right the first time. Teaching requires a patient persistence as students first acquire skills and then master them.

A good teacher does not compromise the right method or the correct answer; He assists students who fall short rather than immediately excluding them. In an atmosphere where there is no room for error, very little learning can take place.

Forgiveness does not deny that which is correct; it continues to teach what is correct. Forgiveness facilitates an environment in which learning can thrive and perfection can at last be attained.

Jesus, while setting high standards, offers forgiveness, not as a way of denying perfection but as a way to facilitate our advancement by grace and trust.

XIV.  His equipping and authorizing of others – Good teachers train new teachers. Jesus trained the Twelve and, by extension, other disciples as well. He led and inspired them. He also prepared them for a day when He would hand on the role of teacher to them. We who would teach need to train our successors and inspire new and greater insights.

Teach me, Lord, by your example, to teach as you taught and to preach as you would have me preach.