The mustard seed

There is a TV commercial out currently for one of these small, fuel efficient cars that is quite good.  The commercial begins with an executive in a board room saying “Big”.  Then all those around the table begin to repeat “Big, Big, Big.”  The next scene is a news anchor reporting, “Big, Big.”  Then we are in Hollywood and on the stage is a singer belting out: “Big, Big, Bi-i-i-g!”  All the wheels of the machine are turning in unison proclaiming “BIG”!  Then the scene shifts to an office worker making copies at a machine and as he looks out the window this small car drives by and he says, “small”.  Things stop.  And a new chorus begins, “small, small, small.”

This dynamic can be found in today’s gospel reading (Mt. 23:1-12).  The wheels of the machine in the Israel of Jesus’ day are turning.  The chorus may not be saying “Big” per se but it is certainly humming “widen the phylacteries”, “lengthen the tassels”, “seats of honor”, “greetings”, “rabbi”.  The noise is almost deafening (and crushing).  Jesus hears it.  And Jesus says, “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” 

The import of what our Lord does here is brought out when we look at what follows today’s gospel passage.  In the remaining verses of chapter 23 Jesus list a whole series of “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!”  In chapter 24, Jesus talks about the end of days.  Then in chapter 25 our Lord gives images of the Kingdom of Heaven and the final judgment.   And in the third and fourth verses of chapter 26 we read; “Then the chief priests and the elders of the people gathered in the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas, and took counsel together in order to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him.”

The words are indeed radical and revolutionary.  “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” 

But we like “Big”; how might we come to recognize the beauty and the wisdom of “small”, of “humble”?

In his second volume of Jesus of Nazareth, Pope Benedict XVI makes a striking observation.  As Christians we proclaim and we know the magnitude of the resurrection of Christ.  We know that it is the defining point of all human history but the Holy Father writes this about the resurrection:

“Throughout the history of the living, the origins of anything new have always been small, practically invisible, and easily overlooked.  The Lord himself has told us that ‘heaven’ in this world is like a mustard seed, the smallest of all the seeds (Mt. 13:31-32), yet contained within it are the infinite potentialities of God.  In terms of world history, Jesus’ Resurrection is improbable; it is the smallest mustard seed of history.”

Big, Big, Big … small.

In Church circles today there is much talk about the “new evangelization”.  A vision given to the Church in this new millennium by Blessed John Paul II.  There are many grand visions of how this evangelization might look and take shape (and these might very well come to pass).  But maybe the first part of this “new evangelization” at the threshold of this new millennium is to both recognize the mustard seeds, the improbable moments, of the Resurrection that are occurring around us and also help to plant and encourage these mustard seeds.  As Pope Benedict reminds us, “the origins of anything new have always been small, practically invisible, and easily overlooked.”   

And, individually, in our lives the way to cultivate the truth and the grace of the Resurrection is to cultivate the improbable mustard seed of humility.  To be willing in the face of “Big” to say “small” and to live the wisdom of humility.   

“Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

In the Hebraic thought in which the writings of Old Testament were written the heart was viewed as the center of knowledge and willing and not as the center of romantic love as we tend to envisage it today. This distinction can help us in realizing the true import of the scriptural motif of “creating a new heart” as found, for example, in this passage taken from the Book of the prophet Jeremiah:

“See, days are coming—oracle of the Lord—when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. It will not be like the covenant I made with their ancestors the day I took them by the hand to lead them out of the land of Egypt. They broke my covenant, though I was their master—oracle of the Lord. But this is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel after those days—oracle of the Lord. I will place my law within them, and write it upon their hearts; I will be their God, and they shall be my people. They will no longer teach their friends and relatives, “Know the Lord!” Everyone, from least to greatest, shall know me—oracle of the Lord—for I will forgive their iniquity and no longer remember their sin.” (Jeremiah 31: 31-34)

To have a heart transformed by the Lord is to have the center of our willing and our knowledge (i.e. our choices and our actions) transformed by an awareness of the presence of God. If the conversion of our hearts is true then how we act and how we live in the world and with one another must be affected and purified. 

Temperance is a virtue not readily understood nor applauded in our day and time. Over and over again we hear the message of: “live life to the full!”, “Do what you want.” and if something is to have any true worth and merit then it must be “extreme”. Where does temperance fit it with this? Temperance, it seems to me, neither automatically condemns nor condones the possibilities that life puts before us.

Temperance is the moral virtue that moderates the attraction of pleasures and provides balance in the use of created goods. It ensures the will’s mastery over instincts and keeps desires within the limits of what is honorable. The temperate person directs the sensitive appetites toward what is good and maintains a healthy discretion: “Do not follow your inclination and strength, walking according to the desires of your heart.” (Sir. 5:2) Temperance is often praised in the Old Testament: “Do not follow your base desires, but restrain your appetites.”(Sir. 18:30) In the New Testament it is called “moderation” or “sobriety.” We ought “to live sober, upright, and godly lives in this world.” (Titus 2:12) (CCC #1809) 

Temperance is not opposed to desire but it does say that we are more than our desires and this is a recognition that seems to be sorely lacking in our current social climate. Despite all its protestations to the contrary; a “desire only” approach to life denies the true dignity and capability of the individual. We are more than our desires whether they happen to be desires of attraction or desires of repulsion. 

Here, I would like to suggest a historical figure for consideration whom, I believe, stands as a model for temperance (but maybe not in the way we would think). Before his conversion the young St. Francis was a well kept and in many ways self-absorbed young man, the son of a rich merchant. It is said that Francis had a strong aversion to lepers. He was repulsed by them and this “desire” controlled his reactions and encounters with lepers. He would do all he could to avoid encountering any leper at any time. After some sobering experiences in life and as the possibility of a life of service to the gospel began to grow in Francis he realized that the desires of his life were holding him back. He knew he had to gain mastery over his self in order to continue on the spiritual journey but he was at a loss on how to do this. Out riding one day, Francis met a leper on the road whose soars were so loathsome that the young man was horrified. Every “desire” in Francis at that moment was of revulsion and told him to avoid the leper at all costs. But, Francis did the exact opposite. He dismounted from his horse and he kissed the leper.

Temperance “ensures the will’s mastery over instincts and keeps desires within the limits of what is honorable.” (CCC # 1809)

Whether they be desires of attraction or desires of repulsion; the virtue of temperance enables us to live lives that show deep respect for the other person and to strive for what is honorable and good. When so much in his being was telling Francis to run he showed great respect to the leper and chose to act in such a way as to keep his desire (of repulsion in this instance) within the limit of what was honorable. To have avoided the leper would have been the dishonorable thing to do. 

The virtue of temperance not only enables us to strive for what is honorable but says we are capable of achieving what is honorable and just and good in the situations of life.

The virtues will not allow us to sell neither ourselves nor one another short.

The temperate person directs the sensitive appetites toward what is good and maintains a healthy discretion: “Do not follow your inclination and strength, walking according to the desires of your heart.” (Sir. 5:2) (CCC #1809)

On Thursday, October 27th leaders of the world’s religions will gather at the invitation of Pope Benedict XVI in Assisi, Italy to reflect on and dialogue about peace.  The gathering marks the 25th anniversary of the original gathering which was the vision of Blessed John Paul II. 

Below is a link to a video clip of an interview with Cardinal Roger Etchegaray who was instrumental in planning the original gathering.

His observation that true dialogue consists in being more than cordial and polite when meeting a person of another faith is worthy of reflection.  Dialogue demands more than just a naive “coexist” philosophy. 

Also, his warning of the effect of what might happen if Christianity were to disappear from the world scene is an important point to ponder.  Christianity proclaims that “God is love” and that mercy and forgiveness are possible.  If that were to disappear where would we be left?  We need to think twice about the “brave new worlds” we often want to create.     

Here is the link for the video clip with Cardinal Etchegaray:  “http://www.youtube.com/embed/ej3GGZvJXvI” 

In his book The Devil You Don’t Know, Fr. Louis Cameli makes the important observation that as Christians we believe that not only has God made all creation from nothing (ex nihilo) but also from love and now, through Christ, God is summoning all creation back to the fullness of love.  Where the omnipotence of God is revealed in creation from nothing; the heart of God is made known in creation from and for love.  In Christ, we encounter God as love and we learn that the dynamic of true and authentic love stands at the very foundation of all creation and even the Creator himself.

With this awareness, the answer of our Lord to the question of the Pharisees’ “which commandment in the law is the greatest?” takes an added meaning.  “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind.  This is the greatest and the first commandment.  The second is like it: you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Mt. 22:35-37)

One does not necessarily have to be a person of faith in order to love others as you yourself.  In fact, this ethical imperative can be a point of encounter and dialogue between people of faith and atheists and agnostics.

This coming week Pope Benedict will continue a tradition begun by Blessed John Paul II in gathering leaders of the world’s religions in Assisi, Italy to discuss and dialogue about peace.  For the first time (and this is upon Pope Benedict’s insistence) a group of non-believers (atheist and agnostic writers and philosophers) have also been invited to this gathering.  The Holy Father knows that the imperative of loving ones neighbor as oneself is a privileged point of encounter between all peoples of faith as well as people of faith and those who profess no faith.

In the command of loving ones neighbor we do indeed have a privileged place of encounter which we share with others but as Christians we also must recognize that our love of neighbor has its foundation in a deeper reality than just the social contract.  The greatest and first commandment for us is that we shall love the Lord, our God, with all our heart, soul and mind.  Our love of neighbor is rooted in our love for God and as we learn in Scripture it is not that we have first loved God; it is that God has first loved us.

The two great commandments given us by Christ are not just something we do but foundational truths of who God is and who we are as made in God’s image.  We are created from love and we are being brought back into the fullness of love by God’s grace.

When we love God and love our neighbor we are about more than just an external action; by loving our neighbor we are being formed into the very truth of who we are meant to be and the truth of all creation.

“This is the greatest and the first commandment.  The second is like it…”

Fortitude is the moral virtue that ensures firmness in difficulties and constancy in the pursuit of the good. It strengthens the resolve to resist temptations and to overcome obstacles in the moral life. The virtue of fortitude enables one to conquer fear, even fear of death, and to face trials and persecutions. It disposes one even to renounce and sacrifice his or her life in defense of a just cause. (CCC # 1808) 

On the front steps of the New York City Public Library sits two massive stone lions – one of which is named “Fortitude” and the other “Patience”. The strength and resolve of the lion is an apt symbol for this cardinal virtue but I have learned that the “resolve of a lion” can come in many shapes and sizes. Fortitude can just as easily be witnessed in the tiny figure of a Bl. Teresa of Calcutta as it can in the steely determination of a Winston Churchill. The common element to each figure is that both had backbone and (come what may) each lived his or her life by what he or she knew to be true, just and right. 

The first line of the Catechism’s description of this virtue is worthy of added consideration. Fortitude is the moral virtue that ensures firmness in difficulties and constancy in the pursuit of the good. From this I would argue that fortitude can only be found and achieved in life when there is an awareness of acknowledgement of an objective “good”. The “good” calls forth fortitude. The relativistic thrust of our times cannot promote the virtue of fortitude because there is no “good” to pursue. Everything is relative. So, the best we can hope to achieve is a shallow “live and let live” philosophy that really goes nowhere and ultimately does not satisfy the longing of the human heart. 

But the tenor of the times we have inherited does not have to be our choice. 

Within fortitude is an awareness of our origin and worth and also a goal to strive for and achieve – both a beginning and an end. The awareness may be expressed in specific religious terminology or in universal ethical principles. The awareness states that there is a dignity and worth to the human person and that choices – individual or collective as a society – either uphold and acknowledge this dignity and worth or deny and degrade this dignity and worth and, yes, there are some things worth fighting and sacrificing for. 

Fortitude’s close connection to patience also demonstrates that there are complex realities to be weighed, balanced and judged in the pursuit of the good. An awareness of “the good” does not by necessity only lead to an extreme fanaticism that denies the worth of all else. (This, I would argue is in fact a sin against the good.) Both Bl. Teresa and Churchill faced extremely complicated realities in their pursuit of the good and both demonstrate that the true fortitude and patience of a lion is found in the willingness to navigate, search for and choose the good in a maze of complicated and sometimes competing realities. 

The brazen arrogance of fanaticism has nothing in common with the discerning virtue of fortitude. 

When I work with a man who is considering the possibility of a call to priesthood I encourage him to be attentive to what brings him joy in life. Where happiness can be fleeting; joy is a deep rooted contentment and fulfillment that can be present and known even in the midst of struggle, isolation and persecution. Joy (which cannot be contrived on our part) is the surest indicator of the presence of God. This depth of joy even in the midst of struggle links it closely with fortitude. 

If you want to know joy in life then develop the virtue of fortitude that pursues the true good.

As all lions know; there is a thrill in the hunt!

In the movie Juno there is a scene where the very apparently pregnant Juno – a teenage girl who has decided to give birth to her child and give the infant up for adoption – says to her boyfriend and father of the child, “When you look at me you don’t stare at my belly, rather you look at my face.”  Juno makes a powerful statement here I believe.  To “look into the face” of another person is to acknowledge the dignity and worth of the person, no matter the circumstances or the situation.  It is to recognize the image and likeness of God in the other person. 

If it is the fact of Caesar’s image being imprinted on the coin that proves ownership; then what image do we bear and to whom do we belong and to whom do we owe ultimate allegiance?  “So God created man in his image; in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” (Gen. 1:27). 

“Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.”  To acknowledge whose image we bear means both to acknowledge to whom we owe all and to repay to him what is owed.  How might we repay to God what is owed?  Here, is where Juno helps us.  When we look nowhere else but in the face of the other person (and our own face at times) – despite the circumstance or the situation which sometimes even hides and seemingly disfigures – and acknowledge the dignity and worth which is there then we are repaying to God that which is owed.  

I once heard someone say that if you want to do something good for a parent (to give a gift that would truly touch the parent’s heart) then do something good for that parent’s child.  We are all children of God.

God smiles when we are able to look in the face of one another.    

Before moving into the reflection on the virtue of justice I would like to share a quote I just came across regarding judgment. Since the previous reflection was on the virtue of prudence which entails the exercise of judgment in life I thought this quote quite relevant and also well-written. It is taken from the book Lost in Transition by Christian Smith, Kari Christoffersen, Hilary Davidson and Patricia Snell Herzog. 

When it comes to moral matters, many Americans hear the words “to judge” or “judging” in the very negative sense of condemning, castigating, disparaging, or executing. To judge is this sense is to be self-righteously superior, hypercritical, and judgmental. And that itself seems morally wrong – we think it is wrong, in fact. Some may even call to mind the command of Jesus Christ, “Do not judge lest you be judged” (Matthew 7:1). But “to judge,” of course, also has other important meanings. It can mean to assess, discern, estimate, appraise, weigh, evaluate, and critique. All of that can be done with great humility, openness, reciprocity, care, and even love for the idea of the person being judged. Judging in this sense need not be self-righteous, condemning, triumphalist, or destructive. But making moral judgments in this second sense seems almost inconceivable to most emerging adults today…

But inconceivable does not mean impossible and it is a fair question to ask why does making moral judgments in this latter sense “seem” inconceivable and is that a true estimation? I would contend that it is not. Judgment does not have to necessarily imply judgmentalism and judgment is required to successfully navigate life. 

Now, on to the virtue of justice… It is helpful to note that the cardinal virtues of prudence, justice, fortitude and temperance are human virtues that are open to being refined by grace. In being human virtues they are acquired and strengthened by human effort and they are the “fruit and the seed of morally good acts” (CCC #1804). One does not have to be a person of faith in order to have a developed understanding of the cardinal virtues and to live a life guided by prudence, justice, fortitude and temperance. 

Where prudence is the virtue that “disposes practical reason to discern our true good in every circumstance” (CCC #1806), justice is the virtue that directs our will into proper action. Once, we have figured out the good to do then, in justice, we are called to do it. This applies both to those daily mundane situations of our lives as well as the extraordinary events that we may experience and that can potentially greatly shape our lives. But, it is important to note here an important aspect of living the virtues: it is those daily, mundane choices for virtue that strengthen our will to be ready to make the choice for the good when the moment is critical and urgent. In faith, we believe that yes, all things are possible with God’s grace; but it is unlikely that one who has not practiced the virtues continuously will have the moral fortitude to do “the right thing” when the stakes are high. God’s grace cooperates with our free will, it does not overwhelm it. 

It is because of this continuous nature of living the virtues, that the Catechism of the Catholic Church is comfortable in stating, “The just man (or woman), often mentioned in the Sacred Scriptures, is distinguished by habitual right thinking and the uprightness of his (her) conduct toward his (her) neighbor.” (CCC # 1807) The word “habitual” is a key marker in this understanding of the just person and, I believe, it agrees with our own experience. We would not call someone just who is good one day or in one situation and not good the next day or in another situation. Virtue implies consistency. 

The virtue of justice challenges us to continuous right thinking and uprightness in conduct. By doing so it also implies that this continuous nature is, indeed, possible to achieve in life and it also aids in determining the lack of justice when it is present. For example, when you hear someone talking negatively about another person or disparaging another person or even group of people, is it not normal to wonder what the person says about you when you are not around? We immediately recognize the inconsistency and would not define this person as a just person but this assessed recognition is possible only because the just life (by which we measure, evaluate and contrast this inconsistency) is possible. There are just men and women and if one were to ask why they are said to be just, I think we might be hard-pressed to point to just one specific instance. 

A just life does not fall neatly into a thirty minute TV sitcom, five minute YouTube video or a short sound bite. A just life is demonstrated and achieved only over time and in various circumstances, but it is recognizable when present and when it is authentic it speaks volumes. 

Justice is the moral virtue that consists in the constant and firm will to give their due to God and neighbor. Justice toward God is called the “virtue of religion.” Justice toward men disposes one to respect the rights of each and to establish in human relationships the harmony that promotes equity with regard to persons and to the common good. (CCC # 1807)

I call it “mirroring” and I truly enjoy it when I see it. There might be a more technical term for the occurrence in behavioral science but I am not aware of it. It is when a child (young, teenager, older, even adult) does something that exactly mirrors what his or her parents do. It is usually something unconscious, we are not even often aware of it – a tilt of the head, a movement of the hands to emphasize something, a particular face that is made. I just saw mirroring not that long ago in a sacristy. Two young ladies were talking before Mass and one of them moved her head and arms in such a motion that as soon as I saw it I thought, “That is her mom. That is exactly what her mother does.”

Sometimes we even catch ourselves mirroring our parents and, believe me, that is a reality check. (Maybe we are more like mom and dad than we care to admit.)

I think it is fascinating. It points out how much we truly are connected and how much we do influence one another – in ways we do not often even think about. Yet, at the same time we are unique and different. And the mirroring does not deny the uniqueness, in fact our uniqueness enables the mirroring. The daughter in the sacristy was not pretending to be her mother. She was not consciously imitating her mother. She was just being herself and it was in that very uniqueness that she mirrored her mother. 

I think that we can apply this to the life of faith. One of the greatest treasures we have in our Christian faith is the communion of saints and these men and women are all across the board. There is St. Louis – a king, Francis who embraced poverty and powerlessness, Joan of Arc who led armies, Maximillian who laid down his life in a concentration camp, Catherine who took a Pope to task, the Ugandan martyrs – to name a few. All races and languages. All personalities and temperaments. Each one completely unique and yet each one fully mirroring Christ in his or her life. To mirror – to be a saint as we are all called to be – does not deny uniqueness in fact it facilitates uniqueness. Discipleship is not about conforming ourselves to some sort of cookie cutter image of who we are not. Discipleship is about mirroring Christ in our very uniqueness which is made possible by the empowerment of the Holy Spirit. The more we live in the Holy Spirit – the more our uniqueness is made present and the more we mirror Christ.

I wonder if this is a work at the end of this Sunday’s parable (Mt. 22: 1-14)?  It seems so odd that the king tosses this man out of the banquet who had just been invited in off the street because he was not wearing the right clothes. The question of the king is key, “My friend, how is it that you came in here without a wedding garment?” The words are “a wedding garment” – something that is particular and unique to the individual. Not Francis’ garment, not Joan’s, not Maximillian’s, not our parents’, not anyone else’s – only our own.

The man came along for the ride to the banquet but he had no desire to truly know the king – so he had no wedding garment of his own. The uniqueness of his own lived faith, his particular mirroring of Christ, was lacking. All the man could do in response to the king’s questioning was be “reduced to silence.”

The saints, each in his or her own unique “wedding garment”, have preceded us and invite us to the wedding banquet. The question is, “What will our wedding garment be?” Discipleship is about mirroring Christ in our very uniqueness.

It is helpful, I think, to go back to the root meaning of the word “virtue”. As noted in the introductory reflection the word “virtue” has its root in the Latin word “virtus” meaning “strength” or “force”. Over time virtue has been used to connote a variety of different ideas and attitudes and it is helpful to move past these to the word’s original meaning and purpose. Virtue is not something to be laughed at or belittled. It is an active force and a demanding discipline that, when developed and fostered, can truly guide life and even lead one to achieve remarkable things in life.

Here is what the Catechism of the Catholic Church has to say about virtue, “A virtue is a habitual and firm disposition to do the good. It allows the person not only to perform good acts, but to give the best of him or herself. The virtuous person tends toward the good with all his or her sensory and spiritual powers; the virtuous person pursues the good and chooses it in concrete actions.” (CCC #1803) 

This is not milk toast, nor is it a wimpy passivism and neither is virtue a Victorian or sexually repressed hang-up. Virtue allows one to achieve the best of him or herself. Virtue will not allow a person to sell himself or herself short precisely because virtue is rooted in an awareness of the true dignity of the human person. It is out of this awareness that judgments are made as to what is for the good and what is not.

Some voices would say that one should not judge and would even (incorrectly, I would add) quote Scripture as proof, “Judge not, lest you be judged.” This attitude is a copout rooted in moral sloth. We make judgments everyday. Society and our individual lives would come to a grinding halt if judgments ceased being made. Part of the discipline of virtue is not to cease making judgments but to determine and acknowledge what is within ones individual purview to judge and what is not and what is within society’s purview to judge and what is not. I cannot see within the soul of another (only God can) so I cannot judge what is within another person. But we can (individually and as a society) see actions and their consequences and therefore we do have the right to make judgments on actions. Therefore, we can make judgments and decisions that actually pursue the good in our everyday experiences and we can choose the good in concrete actions and circumstances.

This is where prudence (often referred to as the auriga virtutum – the charioteer of the virtues) comes in.

“Prudence is the virtue the disposes practical reason to discern our true good in every circumstance and to choose the right means of achieving it; ‘the prudent man looks where he is going.’ (Prov. 14:15) … Prudence is ‘right reason in action,’ writes St. Thomas Aquinas, following Aristotle. It is not to be confused with timidity or fear, nor with duplicity or dissimulation. It is called (the charioteer of the virtues) because it guides the other virtues by setting rule and measure. It is prudence that immediately guides the judgment of conscience. The prudent man (or woman) determines and directs his or her conduct in accordance with this judgment. With the help of this virtue we apply moral principles to particular cases without error and overcome doubts about the good to achieve and the evil to avoid.” (CCC # 1806)

Despite what some might say, to make a prudential judgment and choose the good in a situation is not a form of unhealthy repression. In fact, the exact opposite is the case. Prudential judgment witnesses to a robust moral and psycho-social health. Prudential judgment also gives witness to the ability to see through the common illusion of ones self being the center of all existence. We live in communion with others and our actions have an effect on others – either to build up or to tear down. The virtue of prudence demonstrates both an awareness of and a deep respect for the other person. Prudence means that, if need be, I can curtail my own need or desire in order to promote and safeguard the good of the other person. Because of this, prudence also demonstrates a mastery over ones own inner impulses rather than our being controlled by our desires. (Part of being a charioteer is to be the one who directs, controls and guides the energy of the horses rather than the horses having control.)

Prudence grounds itself in an advanced and mature understanding of the human person being more than just his or her desires and impulses and an awareness of the greater context in which we live – that we live in communion with other persons. One way, I believe, to develop the virtue of prudence in ones life is to keep in the forefront of ones own mind both the reality of ones own dignity and also the dignity of every other person. Through this dual awareness the prudent man or woman gains the ability (as Proverb 14:15 states), “to look where he (or she) is going”, make a reasoned judgment and determine a course of action rather than letting the circumstance and/or impulses of the moment dictate what to do.

Through the exercise of prudence and all that forms its foundation it is possible to achieve the beauty and authenticity of a life will lived.

St. Augustine of Hippo

St. Augustine once remarked that there are “two things in human beings from which all sins spring: desire and fear.”  He then goes on to note, “Suppose a reward is offered to you to induce you to sin, something you find very attractive; you commit the sin for the sake of what you desire.  Or perhaps you are not seduced by bribes, but are intimidated by threats; then you do it because of something you fear.”  (Exposition on Psalm 79)  If we take a moment to honestly reflect on our own motives and actions I think we can readily recognize the truth found in Augustine’s observations on the dynamic of sin. 
This awareness of the dynamic of desire as one of the primary motives of sin is expressed by our Lord in this Sunday’s gospel parable (Mt. 21:33-43).  It is found in the attitudes and actions of the tenants.  The tenants continue to mistreat and even kill the servants that the landowner sends to them.  But it is when the landowner sends his son that the dynamic of disordered desire present in their hearts is truly revealed for all to see.  “This is the heir,” they say, “Come, let us kill him and acquire his inheritance.”  They are so caught up in their disordered desire that they are blind to reason.  What murderer could ever hope to rightfully gain the inheritance of the murdered victim?  It is their inflamed desire for the inheritance that has led them into this great sin.

The paradox found when we hold this parable in relation to the whole Gospel proclamation is that the disordered desires of the human heart are indeed laid bare when the Son is sent to precisely break the cycle of desire and fear in which we are lost.  And it is broken despite our very selves.  “Come, let us kill him and acquire his inheritance.”  In Christ, this is exactly what has happened but we do not steal away the inheritance as the tenants sought to do.  In the love of God, the inheritance not deserved is plentifully given!  In Christ, the only rightful heir, we gain that inheritance which also makes of us sons and daughters.  This is what God has done and it is a wonder to behold! 

The infinite love of God breaks and transforms the cycle of fear and desire by himself becoming the one saving victim of that sad cycle.  Where once desire and fear led only into sin; it now – through love of God and fear of God – motivates one toward the good.  So, Paul can write confidently in his letter to the Philippians, “Finally, brother and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.  Keep on doing what you have learned and received and heard and seen in me.  Then the God of peace will be with you.” (Philippians 4:7-9)

“…think about these things.” 

“So then, my brothers and sisters,” writes Augustine, “love and fear lead us to every right action, and love and fear lead us to every sin.”  Desire is not bad in and of itself.  In fact it can be a great good and a path to holiness.  The key distinction is found in the motivation of the heart and if we are trusting enough to lay our hearts and our desire open to the work of healing grace.