The Thirtieth
Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)
Dear
brothers and sisters,
We
have rather grown into the habit of calling ourselves Christians without giving
a great deal thought to what it means to bear the name of Christ. Likewise, we
often think of ourselves as disciples of Jesus, but give little thought to what
it means to be one. Our English word disciple has the same root as discipline.
Both come from the Latin word discipulus,
meaning a student or learner; discipulus itself
comes from discere, meaning to learn.
A disciple, then, is a follower in the sense that he or she is a student who follows
the teachings of a learned man; the disciples of Christ follow him who is the
great "Master and Teacher" (John 13:13). Can it be said of us who bear the name
of Christian that we follow the teachings of Jesus?
Throughout
the period of his earthly ministry, the Pharisees and the Sadducees followed
Jesus not so much because they wanted to learn from him; they did not want to
be his disciples, but instead to test him (cf. Matthew 22:35). “Teacher, which
commandment is the greatest?”, one of them asked him. Though the Pharisees are
often berated in homilies for attempting to trap Jesus, this is not the case
with this question; it was a test, yes, but not a trap. “This is not a trick
question but is designed to see if the Galilean preacher has the knowledge
necessary to be teaching others about God and his will for their lives”
(Matthew 22:36).[1]
It was an attempt to discover if Jesus was worth following or not.
With
his answer to this question, Jesus cites two important verses from the Old
Testament. First, he refers to the great Schema
from the Book of Deuteronomy, when Moses said to the people: “Hear, O
Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and
with all your soul, and with all your might” (Deuteronomy 6:4-5). Second, he
refers to another part of the law which Moses gave to the people: “You shall
not take vengeance or bear any grudge against the sons of your own people, but
you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18). By joining these
two commands together, Jesus not only shows the Pharisees that he does have the
knowledge necessary to teach others about God, but also that he has taken his
rightful place upon the seat of Moses as both teacher and law-giver (cf.
Matthew 23:2).
Christ Pantocrater. Uncial detail from the Badische Landesbibliothek, Germany. |
Just
after he gave them this answer, Jesus posed a question to them, a question to
which “no one was able to answer him a word, nor from that day did any one dare
to ask him any more questions,” lest he be shown a greater teacher than they
(Matthew 22:46). The Pharisees were content to hear his answers, but were not
prepared to take his answers to heart; they were not prepared to learn from him
and to follow him.
Saint
Luke records another occasion on which the Lord Jesus gave this answer in
response to a question from one of those versed in the law. He agreed with
Jesus’ answer, but “desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, ‘And who is my
neighbor?’” (Luke 10:29). It was, to be sure, a risky question, one Jesus
answered with the parable of the good Samaritan (cf. Luke 10:30-37). In the
end, as he so often does, Jesus turned the question around and put the focus on
the man asking the question: “Which of these three,” Jesus asked him, “proved
neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers” (Luke 10:36)? The man answered
Jesus’ question correctly but failed to keep his final exhortation to “go and
do likewise” because Jesus’ response deeply challenged the man’s outlook upon
the world; he, too, came to Jesus to seek his answers, but not to give him his
heart (Luke 10:37).
Do
we not ask the same question of Jesus in an attempt to justify ourselves before
God? Do we not also ask rhetorically, “And who is my neighbor?”, in the attempt
to convince ourselves that we are good people, that because we have helped this
person or that person that we have done enough? To us, too, Jesus asks, “Which
of these … proved neighbor…?” and commands us, “go and do likewise,” yet still
we hesitate to love our neighbor as ourselves.
The
man who first asked that question of Jesus has less blame than us, for he had a
different understanding of who his neighbor was than we do.
Until that time,
the concept of “neighbor” was understood as referring essentially to one’s own
countrymen and to foreigners who had settled in the land of Israel; in other
words, to the closely-knit community of a single country or people. This limit
is now abolished. Anyone who needs me, and whom I can help, is my neighbor. The
concept of “neighbor” is now universalized, yet it remains concrete. Despite
being extended to all mankind, it is not reduced to a generic, abstract and
undemanding expression of love, but calls for my own practical commitment here
and now… [W]e should especially mention the great parable of the Last Judgment
(cf. Matthew 25:31-46), in which love becomes the criterion for the definitive
decision about a human life’s worth or lack thereof. Jesus identifies himself
with those in need, with the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the
sick and those in prison. “As you did it to one of the least of these my
brethren, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40). Love of God and love of neighbor
have become one: in the least of the brethren we find Jesus himself, and in
Jesus we find God.[2]
Now
that Jesus has come and taught us, now that we have heard his teaching with
authority, our responsibility for our neighbor, both near and far, is greater
(cf. Matthew 7:29).
As
Christians in these United States of America, we often do well caring our
neighbors who are far away, but we are not always so keen to care for our
neighbors at our doorstep, which is why so many either wince at or ignore the
Lord’s command we heard just a few moments ago: “You shall not molest or
oppress an alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt”
(Exodus 22:21). Many do not like these words, true though they be, because we
all too often allow our politics to dictate our faith rather than allow our
faith to dictate our politics, as is both right and just.
Because
“the whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments” to love both
God and neighbor, “no other commandment of the Bible is properly observed if
either one of these is transgressed or compromised, for the aim of all divine
Scripture is to bring us out of ourselves to love and serve God and our fellow
human beings.”[3]
Consequently, “closing our eyes to our neighbor also blinds us to God.”[4] Rather than closing our
eyes to our neighbors both near and far, we should strive to imitate Saint
Paul, from whose mouth “the word of the Lord has sounded forth not only in
Macedonia and in Achaia, but in every place [his] faith in God [went] forth” (I Thessalonians 1:8). The word of the Lord sounded forth from his mouth because
he loved God and neighbor. Does the same word of the Lord also sound forth from
our mouths? Do we love God and neighbor in the same way?
Saint
Paul’s preaching of the Gospel was sometimes formal, as in his speech at the
Areopagus, but it was also often informal, as when he sat making tents in the
marketplace (cf. Acts 17:22 and 18:3). So it is with and you me; our preaching
must sometimes be formal, but it must frequently be informal as well. This is
why Pope Francis is so keen to remind us that
there
is a kind of preaching which falls to each of us as a daily responsibility. It
has to do with bringing the Gospel to the people we meet, whether they be our
neighbors or complete strangers. This is the informal preaching which takes
place in the middle of a conversation… Being a disciple means being constantly
ready to bring the love of Jesus to others, and this can happen unexpectedly
and in any place: on the street, in a city square, during work, on a journey.[5]
It
can and should happen wherever and whenever someone needs to hear or be reminded
of what the Lord God himself tells us: “If he cries out to me, I will hear him;
for I am compassionate” (Exodus 22:26). Jesus showed his compassion for us when
he ascended the throne of his Cross to show us just how much he loves us.
The
sight of the Lord’s Cross should stir each of our hearts to an ever-deeper love
of God and contrition for our sins in gratitude for his merciful love toward us
poor sinners. The recognition of the immensity of this love should move us toward
our neighbors, to invite and encourage them “to serve the living and true God
and to await his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, Jesus, who
delivers us from the coming wrath” (I Thessalonians 1:9-10). May we, then, love
God and neighbor in this way, so as to truly be his disciples by following him unreservedly
and by conforming ourselves to his way of loving until he is formed in us (cf. Galatians 4:19). Amen.
[1] Curtis Mitch and Edward Sri, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture: The
Gospel of Matthew (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2010), 288.
[2] Pope Benedict XVI, Deus caritas est, 15.
[3] Curtis Mitch and Edward Sri, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture: The
Gospel of Matthew (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2010), 289.
[4] Pope Benedict XVI, Deus caritas est, 16.
[5] Pope Francis, Evangelii gaudium, 127.
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