IC I, 15; 21^st Sunday of Year A

Our Holy Gospel today is the celebrated “Catholic” passage from St. Matthew that so clearly shows that Jesus established his Church upon Peter and gave him sweeping authority, such that even heaven ratifies his actions. That our Lord might have done things very differently cannot be denied. He could have done without such / authority-invested-in / an-individual-church-leader (as our Protestant brethren would like to believe) or might have set up a classless society (to use the Marxist term) in which everyone remains a layman. But the hard facts / are there-to-read in any bible, Catholic or otherwise. In the blueprint for His Church then, Jesus formulated a hierarchical construction in which a man has the keys to heaven, and thus he has authority over everyone else in the Church. That the Church was eventually to call that man ‘father’ of the Church, ‘papa’ or “holy father’ was a very natural development since fathers are the natural leaders in the most fundamental hierarchy in human society: the family. In fact, the term ‘father’ for the pope in a unique sense (and for priests more generally) is a term designating authority, but with a modifying, endearing qualification: leadership in the Church should have a certain human tenderness, like that expected of a father towards his children. But it was the Church herself who added on this humanizing term of ‘father’–although she did so under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit–indicating how well the Church had grasped the very spirit of Her loving Lord in determining the nature of pastoral leadership. The expression ‘authority with love’ might well characterize the sort of manner in which priests and bishops and popes should lead the people entrusted to their care.

That little word ‘love’ is indeed the qualifier for everything that is truly Christian. It is the identifier of all our truly good deeds. Consequently, when whatever we undertake to do is lacking the motivation of love, it falls short. By love, of course, is not necessarily meant ‘emotional involvement’. No one could possible go about all that he does on an emotional ‘high’. That’s a caricature of Christian charity, and some of our emotionally-charged modern Catholics would like to simulate that very thing. The truth is, however, that most of the good things we do from love, we do without any special feeling at all. We do them from a sense of duty and responsibility; we do them from a sense of justice; we do them because they are learned good habits of acting in virtuous ways. And so, when we work to provide for our families, when we do the things required of our state in life, as well as, when we offer an encouraging word of counsel or comfort, or give help to the needy, love is present in them even though there may be not a drop of sweetness in the experience, for love is really willing the good of others, and Christian love always has, in the background, the ulterior motive of doing for God’s sake. In this way, we come to see what the words of wisdom in the Imitation of Christ mean: “Without love, the outward work is of no value; but whatever is done out of love, be it ever so little, is wholly fruitful.”-and here is added a lovely thought–“God regards the greatness of the love that prompts a man, rather than the greatness of his achievement.”

Acting out of love may not always be a perfect thing, however. For example, one must never do an evil deed out of affection for someone; evil deeds are always reprehensible. The most common difficulty we have in our good deeds is a mixed motivation, where we are motivated by self-interests, seeking pleasure, or recognition for ourselves in what we do as well as a more noble motive. It is thus goods deeds become tainted and less meritorious. The pure motive is to act for God alone, that He may be served and glorified in all things. The only credit we should want is reward from Him in the life to come.

This is not the mind of worldly men who think of greatness as size of accomplishment. Men are extolled for the quantitative extent of their deeds, or their greatness is estimated in terms of the degree of their public notice and approval. But God regards something else, God sees the heart.

In heaven–which is to say, the only hall of fame that will outlive this world–the giants will be the God lovers: apostles, martyrs, confessors, virgins, and innumerable waves of men and women who were thought of as nobodies on this earth. Gone will be the memory of historical greats, brilliant minds, admired artists and men of position. Everything will get its deserving worth of glory and forever according to God’s standard: and he will determine it on the amount of pure Godly love present in our deeds.