22nd Sunday B, IC 3:7;
From non-religious persons,
the offhanded remark may be heard that they’re really “not interested” in
religion. Framed that way, the matter of adherence to faith appears to be but
one of life’s many optional interests, as for example, whether one has an
interest, say, in mechanics, or football, or gardening, or art. But we
instinctively sense that this casual dismissal of religion is somehow not
honest: that religion is not to be so summarily cast aside; that it lay claim on every person’s life; that no one can
escape the nagging voice of conscience of which religion is such a persistent
reminder.
For those of us who freely
admit the power of religion over our lives–such as are all of us here–the faith
is not just one of life’s many concerns, but is life itself. Every significant
act of life, every word, and even private thought, must pass by the scrutiny of
faith. Even if we should try to dodge it, or to become mere polite Sunday observers
for whom ‘going to church’ is a social event, we all know that, in the end, at
the ultimate moment of our life, religion will be there, very much ‘in-your-face’,
as they say, and God’s judgment will be awaiting us. Then, nothing, nothing else will be
of significance.
Religion would not be such a
problematic issue if it did not have its moral requirements. By that I mean,
that if all one had to do was to agree to the statement that ‘God exists’,
faith would welcome by most everybody and religion would eagerly be embraced
for its cultural and social benefits. But those badgering commandments cause
difficulty. Why does God impose restrictions on what we might rather do apart
from His laws? Here is where morality ‘meddles’ in the arena of faith and, for
many, causes their flight from religion. The situation is simply this: everyone
knows he has tendencies to do what religion forbids, what are called ‘sins’,
and that he is prone to yield to them. They know that these transgressions
cause disturbance, cause guilt. So, if they can’t or will not conquer them, it’s
altogether easier for them to give up the effort. It’s easier to live without
God, or Church, or priests, or commandments and rules that make life
uncomfortable.
Seen in this minimalistic light, we can make the statement that the most
important accomplishment in my life is to keep the commandments. That means
that all the activities that are so dear to me, the consuming projects of my
day, will, at the end of my life, have passed away and be of no importance of
all; only my state of soul will matter; and I will then be forever heaven- or
hell-bound. The sacred scriptures selected for this day point to this reality
specifically: observe the commandments that you “may enter in and take
possession of the promised land; “be doers of the word and not hearers only,
deluding yourselves”; and our Lord’s rebuke, “This people honors me with their
lips; in vain do they worship me; you disregard God’s commandment.” What
follows this in the Gospel is a short litany of evils that are the source of
trouble for us sinners: bad thoughts, impurity, theft, murder, adultery,
greediness, malice, deceit, pleasure-seeking, jealousy, blasphemous talk,
pride, foolishness. Religious practice embraces all of a man’s life and
it is a constant reminder for him to reform himself.
We know however that religion
has to do with a good deal more than the commandments–however fundamental they
are. There is the exciting project of transformation into Christ-like people,
the growth of divine charity and sanctifying grace, the enjoyment of the
presence of God, and the elevation of one’s soul to enter into the dwelling
place of God. This spiritual progression has its own requirements. And our
passage from the Imitation makes reference to it.
What the Imitation offers
us today would seem, at first glance, to bear little relevance to the theme of
obedience to the moral law, such as we have been speaking about it. The passage
has to do with the virtue of humility: that yielding of one’s soul to God that
puts Him and oneself in a right relation. It’s hardly thinkable that one could
be observant of the commandments or make spiritual progress without humility.
If one would ever think that moral correction is unnecessary for him, or that
he has attained a pretty high level of spiritual proficiency by himself, he’s
stands in great danger. Voluntary humility is a kind of a
modesty in self-estimation and a docility to God’s grace. It opens a man
to become pliable so as to be formed in a godly fashion. Here’s a quotation
worth pondering:
“A
man’s merit is not to be reckoned by the ...comforts he may enjoy, nor by his
learning in the Scriptures, nor by his being raised to high dignity. Rather it
is by his being grounded in humility and filled with divine love; by his pure,
constant, and sincere seeking of God’s glory; by his low esteem and honest
depreciation of himself; and by his preference for humiliation and insult
rather than honors at the hands of men.”
Faith requires a willingness
to be un-‘willing’. A readiness to let go of a perceived
self-sufficiency and to abandon oneself to a divine influence. This
means, in the first place, having that humility that recognizes the rights of
God over one’s life such that he must observe commandments and God’s ruling
authority over him. And beyond this, it means a humility that yields in
docility to the Holy Spirit so that His seven gifts can direct and steer one’s
life unto the achievement of spiritual perfection. All is the work of divine
love.
Religion, the true Christian religion, will always speak about the love God because it is the motor that generates the requisite obedience of conformity to God’s laws, and the further sanctification that prepares devout souls for leaving this life for the eternal possession of God.