31^st Sunday in O.T. (B); November 4, 2018

Dt 6:2-6   Ps 18   Heb 7:23-28   Mk 12:28-24

Deacon Jim McFadden

 

            The Talmud, an expansive body of ceremonial law and legend of the Jewish religion, records a story of a young gentile man who’s interested in converting to Judaism. He approaches Rabbi Shammai (a contemporary of Jesus) and promises to convert if Shammai could teach him the Torah while the young man stood on one foot. Shammai was not the kind of teacher who suffered fools wisely, so he smacked the youth upside his head with a stick he happened to be holding. Shammai must have been thinking: “Who is this guy who thinks the depth and breadth of the Torah could be reduced to a few words? This is impossible!” Undaunted, the young man went to Rabbi Hillel with the same challenge. Hillel was a lot more patient with him and said, “What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow man. This is the entire Torah; the rest is commentary. Now go and learn it.” Shortly thereafter, the man converted to Judaism.

Synthesizing the Torah was the sort of enterprise that rabbis frequently did. There are traditionally 613 laws in the Torah, which can be found in the Holiness Code in the book of Leviticus. A third century rabbi Simlai taught that they represented 365 prohibitions given to Moses which corresponded to the days of the year. And, there were 248 positive commandments that corresponded to the limbs of the human body. Simlai taught that they could be reduced to doing right and keeping justice. Rabbi Akiva (of the first century) reduced the laws to just one: love thy neighbor.

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus receives a similar challenge like that posed by the young gentile man. A scribe asks Jesus which of the commands is the greatest. The challenge is not simply to come up with the most important commandment in some kind of ranking system, but to reveal the lens through which all the others and, indeed, life itself may be interpreted.   Jesus responds by quoting the lines we heard from Moses in the first reading, which is the great Jewish prayer, the Shema: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Dt 6:4). Jesus, then adds, quoting Leviticus 19:18, “The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” One scribe was delighted in hearing this, noting that love “is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifice”

(Mk 12:33d).

Jesus has given us the Great Commandment and we should consider these two commandments as one, for love by its very nature is unitive. To love God and not to love human beings is just not possible. And, to imagine that one could love human beings without cultivating a love of God—the very source of love—is to make a colossal mistake. The evangelist John brings the two together in his First Letter: “Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love” (1 John 4:8).   St. Paul writes in his letter to the Romans that loving another fulfills the law (Rom 13:8) because love is the one thing that is eternal (1 Cor 13:8).

Brothers and sisters, since God is love—that is not an attribute but is God’s very nature—then love is both the means by which we attain union with God and is the principal expression of what it means to be a Christian. We are hard wired to be in communion with God; we yearn to participate in his very Being because we are made in the image of God. We realize that deepest desire by operating as God does: namely, we give ourselves away in sacrificial giving. And, as we do that we truly manifest that we are, indeed, followers of Christ: “They will know that we are Christians by our love, by our love; yes, they will know that we are Christians by our love.” In short, Christian life is “faith working through love” (Gal 5:6).

In my experience, my love for others (or lack thereof) is a telltale sign of the quality of my prayer life. If I frequently go into the Quiet, rest deeply in God’s presence, then my spirit exudes almost a natural love and affection for others. But, when my prayer becomes mechanical, that I’m just going through the motions, or I skip being with the Lord, then I inevitably become self-referential and relate to people in a kind of pragmatic, utilitarian way. If I’m not experiencing love for others, even those who drive me to distraction and aggravate me to no end, then I know that I am in some kind of spiritual desolation. This is when I know that I must get refocused, ask God to renew my inner being, and to attend to others even when I lack the feelings to do so. During these times, I have to remind myself that love is not merely an emotional affection, but is a choice. Love for God and neighbor expresses itself as service, generosity, and care. As Jesus said to Peter, if you love me, feed by sheep.

One of the most difficult challenges to our faith is to love those who are very difficult to love, especially to those who are the bane of our existence. Through a deep and abiding prayer, being grounded in God helps us to recognize that every human being, even our worst enemy, has intrinsic value because they, too, are made in the image of God and are, therefore, a child of God. Such recognition will change our spiritual posture and behavior towards them.

So, during this week, I encourage you to think of someone in or life who is difficult to love. Then hold this person daily in prayer for one week, and see what transpires. You may not become friends, and your aversion may not vanish. But, you may start to love him. And, that’s what counts. Amen.