Incarnation for one’s own sake and for the sake of the world, or the spiritual form devoid of humanity

(Mt 12:1–8)

    On the path to conversion, conflicts of conscience are not mere interludes or hiccups along the way, but crucial turning points.

The authenticity of faith then generates an implicative force and new capacities for expression.

The choice is between intimacy with God and the practice of faith, or a religion that condemns the blameless (v. 7):

According to conventional religious views, the law was more important than hunger…

Yes, there is much to discuss, quite simply, but little to argue about: the experience of God in one’s life overturns the ideas devised by experts.

To be honest, observance of the Sabbath had become a central law not because of theological subtleties, but because during the Exile, the weekly rest had allowed people to gather, share hopes, encourage one another and maintain their identity as a people.

But legalism ended up stifling the spirit of the day of worship, once a sign of a freedom in the service of faith and humanity, neither of which can be enslaved.

Thus, wherever Jesus comes, every spiritual form devoid of humanity crumbles, and the Incarnation takes hold: the place where God and humankind truly rest [forget about the Sabbath!].

A litmus test of the irruption of the new Kingdom is the flare-up of conflicts with the leaders, officials, court intellectuals and rulers!

They built their prestige on a jumble of false teachings, which had nothing to do with the purpose of the divine Law.

Dogs don’t eat dogs, so the troublemakers of tradition and the letter of the law had never spoken out against David’s transgressive behaviour.

It so happens that those in the driving seat and the unsavoury fundamentalists do not turn against one another…

On the Sabbath, the priests had far more sacred duties and tasks—such as preparation, slaughter and tidying up the Sanctuary—than on other days of the week, and the Torah obliged them to do so… the same happens to us too.

So the Lord quotes the prophet Hosea, a man of harsh experience, yet one who clearly defines the pinnacle of intimacy with God: true worship lies in recognising the needs of one’s neighbour and having a heart attuned to the needs of others.

The archaic concept of ‘sacrifice’ [sacrum facere, to make sacred] reflected an idea of division, separation and distance between the perfect world of ‘heaven’ and people’s mundane lives.

But after the coming of the ‘Son of Man’ (v. 8), the newly consecrated will not live in seclusion, above the fray, far removed from everyday existence.

Rather, they will be the first to welcome and lift up those in need.

Christ highlights the poverty of all legalistic and hypocritical attachments in the way we conceive of our relationship with the Father.

The sign of the Covenant with God, and the Encounter (authentic sanctification), is the commitment that continues in the fabric of daily life and in his active Person – not a ridiculous idolatry of observances or ritual interludes.

Acts and rites celebrate love; and genuine fulfilment does not merely mimic the pedantic ‘how we ought to be’, but rather expresses a liberation of the person.

The biblical episode that Jesus cites might perhaps have seemed not entirely relevant to the theoretical question: his disciples did not appear to be kings, nor even priests.

Yet in the new age that is upon us, yes: ‘rulers’ of their own lives by Grace and Calling, as well as ‘mediators’ [of divine blessings upon humanity] – and also Prophets.

The authentic ones will no longer play the double game of the old showmen, those touchy professionals of the sacred – nor will they condemn the innocent and the needy (v.7).

In Mark 2:27, Jesus puts the commandment into perspective: ‘The Sabbath was made [was instituted, has its purpose] for man, and not man for the Sabbath’.

The loving God enters into a dialogue and a friendship with us that invites, inspires and gives us a zest for action.

The Tao Te Ching (xiii) states:

‘To those who value themselves for the sake of the world, the world may be entrusted. To those who care for themselves for the sake of the world, the world may be confided.’

Christ counters the bondage of custom with a freedom that makes the encounter between God and his people more agile, more spontaneous, richer and more personal.

This is the outcome of a messianic consciousness, precisely that of the ‘Son of Man’ (v. 8): greater than the Temple (v. 6) because it is incarnate.

In this way, it is passed on to us, his brothers and friends – who are most closely united to Him and intimately bound to Him through Faith.

After the Hymn of Messianic Jubilation and the ‘joy of the simple’ which supplants the ‘yoke’ of the ancient religion (Mt 11:25–30), the Master presents himself to the Pharisees in the royal figure of David, who sets out to conquer the alternative ‘Kingdom’, even with a small band of followers.

A ray of light – for us too – in the face of the current pastoral collapse (despite the plethora of institutions across the country!).

In this time of global crisis that seems to be jeopardising the future (whilst attempts are still being made to predict it by directing it a priori, according to selective interests), the challenge is more open than ever.

The Contrast over Justice

‘It is precisely because of this personal experience of his relationship with Jesus Christ that Paul now places at the heart of his Gospel an irreducible opposition between two alternative paths to righteousness: one built upon the works of the Law, the other founded on the grace of faith in Christ. The alternative between righteousness through the works of the Law and that through faith in Christ thus becomes one of the dominant themes running through his Epistles: “We, who are Jews by birth and not sinful Gentiles, yet knowing that a person is not justified by the works of the Law but only through faith in Jesus Christ, have also believed in Christ Jesus, so that we might be justified by faith in Christ and not by the works of the Law; for by the works of the Law no one will ever be justified” (Gal 2:15–16). And to the Christians in Rome he reiterates that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, but are justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Rom 3:23–24). He adds: “We hold, in fact, that a person is justified by faith, apart from the works of the Law” (ibid. 28). At this point, Luther translated: ‘justified by faith alone’. I shall return to this point at the end of the catechesis. First, we must clarify what this ‘Law’ is from which we are set free, and what those ‘works of the Law’ are that do not justify. Even within the community at Corinth, there was a view that would later recur systematically throughout history; this view held that the Law in question was the moral law and that Christian freedom therefore consisted in liberation from ethics. Thus, the phrase “πάντα μοι έξεστιν” (everything is lawful for me) was circulating in Corinth. It is obvious that this interpretation is mistaken: Christian freedom is not licentiousness; the liberation of which St Paul speaks is not liberation from doing good.

But what, then, does the Law mean—from which we are set free and which does not save? For St Paul, as for all his contemporaries, the word ‘Law’ meant the Torah in its entirety, that is, the five books of Moses. The Torah, in the Pharisaic interpretation—which Paul had studied and made his own—entailed a complex set of behaviours ranging from the ethical core to the ritual and liturgical observances that essentially defined the identity of the righteous person. In particular, these included circumcision, the observances concerning clean food and ritual purity in general, the rules regarding the observance of the Sabbath, and so on. Such behaviours frequently feature in the debates between Jesus and his contemporaries. All these observances, which expressed a social, cultural and religious identity, had become particularly significant during the Hellenistic period, beginning in the 3rd century BC. This culture, which had become the dominant culture of the time, and was an apparently rational, polytheistic and seemingly tolerant culture, exerted strong pressure towards cultural uniformity and thus threatened the identity of Israel, which was politically compelled to assimilate into this shared Hellenistic cultural identity, resulting in the loss of its own identity and, consequently, the loss of the precious heritage of the faith of the Fathers—the faith in the one God and in God’s promises.

Against this cultural pressure, which threatened not only Israel’s identity but also faith in the one God and in his promises, it was necessary to erect a wall of distinction, a defensive shield to protect the precious heritage of faith; this wall consisted precisely of Jewish observances and prescriptions. Paul, who had learnt of these observances precisely in their defensive role in safeguarding God’s gift—the heritage of faith in the one God—saw this identity threatened by the freedom of the Christians: this is why he persecuted them. At the moment of his encounter with the Risen One, he realised that with Christ’s resurrection the situation had changed radically. Through Christ, the God of Israel—the one true God—became the God of all peoples. The wall—as he says in the Letter to the Ephesians—between Israel and the Gentiles was no longer necessary: it is Christ who protects us against polytheism and all its deviations; it is Christ who unites us with and in the one God; it is Christ who guarantees our true identity amidst the diversity of cultures. The wall is no longer necessary; our common identity amidst the diversity of cultures is Christ, and it is he who makes us righteous. To be righteous simply means to be with Christ and in Christ. And that is enough. No further observances are required. Therefore, Luther’s expression ‘sola fide’ is true, provided that faith is not set in opposition to charity, to love. Faith is looking to Christ, entrusting oneself to Christ, clinging to Christ, conforming oneself to Christ and to his life. And the form, the life of Christ, is love; therefore, to believe is to conform oneself to Christ and to enter into his love. That is why Saint Paul, in his Letter to the Galatians—in which he developed his doctrine on justification above all—speaks of faith working through love (cf. Gal 5:14).

Paul knows that in the twofold love of God and neighbour, the whole Law is present and fulfilled. Thus, in communion with Christ, in the faith that gives rise to charity, the whole Law is fulfilled. We become righteous by entering into communion with Christ, who is love.”

[Pope Benedict, General Audience, 19 November 2008]

To internalise and live out the message:

Have you experienced oppression or exclusion in the name of the Law? Do you think this was because you had offended God, or because you dared to challenge the status quo or question someone and their cultural paradigm?

How have you experienced coming alive to Christ through the flexibility of the rules? What conflicts are the cause of ecclesial debate and controversy which you believe create division and suffering around you?