15^th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C); July 10, 2022

Dt 30:10-14.  Ps 69.  Col 1:15-20.  Lk 10:25-37

Deacon Jim McFadden

         In nature the laws of physics apply everywhere, whether it’s here on Earth or the outer reaches of the cosmos—they’re no escaping them.  What would happen,  for example,  if you denied the Law of Gravity.  Say, you jumped out of an airplane with out a parachute and you’re pummeling to the Earth and you say, “Hey, there’s no gravity here at 10,000 feet” (or 5,000 feet and so on).  But, then you splat against the ground.  You were incorrect: there is a Law of Gravity, which applies to all situations and times here on Earth; there are no exceptions.

            Just as there are physical laws of nature, there are also moral laws, which are objective and universal, and also unescapable.  Our normal conversation suggests that deep-down, we believe in a universal law.  So, we say things like “That’s not fair!  Things shouldn’t be that way.”  Or, “The life of innocent human beings ought to be respected.”  Or, Stop bullying him; pick on someone your own size; he’s not bothering you.”  Or, “You promised me that you would be faithful and you ought to keep your promise.”

            On the other hand, if we subscribe to the our post-modern/secular view of Situation Ethics—that moral values are subjective and relative to cultural and historical conditions—then we have no autonomous standard of right and wrong.  If that’s the case, then we assume that life is like the Guns ‘n Roses song, Welcome to the Jungle, where we all have different competing values and desires, where we fight each other to get our way.  We wouldn’t say that we’re quarreling over right or wrong.  Think of animals fighting over a fallen prey.  We’d say they are fighting, but we wouldn’t say they were arguing over their prey.

            Human beings, to be sure, fight with one another—sometimes in a harsh and brutal fashion, which we see so graphically on display in the unprovoked War in Ukraine.  The inhumanity we can do to each other seems to be without bounds.  In just the last 100 years we’ve fought two world wars and Pope Francis believes we’re fighting World War III but in piecemeal fashion.  So, unlike animals we just don’t fight with one another, but we quarrel, often with harsh consequences.  You see, “quarrelling” presupposes you are arguing over some basic  moral principles that ought to obtain. 

            If the moral law was just subjective and culturally conditioned and therefore morally relative—my moral truth is just as good as yours, so we should tolerate and include our views without judgment.  That being the case, I may insist on my view, but I wouldn’t argue over it.  My moral views just come to personal preference and the latter is arbitrary when push comes to shove.

            That is why the Catholic Church has a target on her back because we proclaim that the moral law is not a matter of personal preference because it is objective—it’s the natural way of how relationships ought to be—and universal—it applies to ALL people regardless of circumstances. 

            So, the question arises just where does this moral law come from?  The best explanation is that there is a personal, intelligent Law-giver.  The moral law is objective and universal because it doesn’t come from us, but, in a word, comes from God.

            One of the great Doctors of the Church, St. Thomas Aquinas spoke of the natural law.  Aquinas said that natural law is a reflection of the Eternal Law, which is the mind of God.  Our sense of moral obligation is the inner voice of God, echoing within us.

            Stay with the implication of this truth.  When we do the right thing, we are moving and living in God; as such, we are thinking and acting according to God’s inner voice that dwells within us.  The fruit of this righteousness is peace of mind.  Doing what’s right aligns you in right relationship with God, others, and, indeed, Creation.  Is there any better condition to be than that?

            St. John Henry Newman, writing in the 19^th century, unpacked Aquinas’ insight of the moral law  from a Christ-centered perspective.  Newman said that our conscience is “the aboriginal vicar of Christ.” I know that’s quite a mouthful, but stay with it because it does contain a profound truth.  ‘Aboriginal’ refers to the first, primordial source(s).  Think of the Aborigines that preceded the English in Australia.  The ‘vicar of Christ’ means the representative of Christ (the vicar) is our conscience, which connects us to the moral law.  When we pay attention to our conscience and strive to do what is right, that is the divine voice stirring within us, urging us to do the right thing, critiquing us when we go off line, and rewarding us with peace of mind and delight when we do God’s will.

            People of God, when we follow our conscience, were recognizing something real and objective, just like the Law of Gravity.  When we are in touch with our conscience, which is the awareness of the moral law, we know that we are in the presence of Someone who is talking to us here and now.  We know that when we make moral decisions, we are doing so in the presence of Someone who is urging us on and who is disapproving in the wrong decisions we make.

            All of this traipsing through this moral landscape helps us to understand our first reading, which is taken from the book of Deuteronomy.  Moses, the great Law-giver, says to the people, “if only you heed the voice of the Lord, your God and keep his commandments and statutes that are written in the book of the Law” (Dt 30:10c).  He goes onto specify that “this command which I enjoin on you today is not too mysterious and remove for you.  It is not up in the sky, that you should say, ‘Who will go up in the sky top get it for us and tell us of it, that we may carry it out (vs 11-12). 

            Given the insights of Aquinas and Newman, this passage from Deuteronomy makes sense.  Moreover, if we understand ourselves as members of the Body of Christ as described by Paul in his letter to the Colossians (cf. 1:18), then living morally simply flows from this  foundational relationship, which defines us.  And, if we love the Lord our God as the Gospel exhorts us to love, we will allow the moral law to take hold of us, and to esteem it as the psalm response suggests (cf. Ps 19:8-9). 

            A cynic may say, well, this is all and good, but practically speaking people just don’t hear the voice of God anymore because It is drowned out by the white noise of social media and the chattering class.  Nonsense!  The voice of God is not up in the sky or across the sea that we have to go looking for it.  If we take to heart the call of Psalm 46—“Be still and know that I am God” (v. 11), then we will know that the voice of God is within us.  What is that voice?  It’s the voice of conscience.  It’s the keen awareness of the moral law.  It’s the voice of Someone who is commanding us, urging us to do good.  Conscience is the voice of God, the moral law—that’s what today’s reading from Deuteronomy is all about, which helps us to understand the other readings. 

            What do these readings tell us?  It couldn’t be simpler:

            • Listen to it!

            • Abide by it!

            • Attend to it!

Here the Word of God.  He is closer to you than you are to yourself.  Amen.