Homily for Ordinary Time 24
September 15, 2024
Faith and Works
There
are some things in life that always seem to go together. Peanut butter and
jelly. Salt and pepper. Romeo and Juliet. The New York Giants and losing. Some
things were just meant to be together.
But
since the mid-1500s, there has been considerable debate about two more things
that should be together: faith and works. How are we saved? By our faith in
Jesus Christ, or by our good deeds and following the Commandments? The answer
is: yes. But the history is a lot more complicated.
On one
side, there is a teaching that many of the early Protestants believed: sola
fide, which means being saved by faith alone. Martin Luther, who founded
Protestantism, once wrote to a spiritual friend: “God does not save those
who are only imaginary sinners. Be a sinner, sin boldly, but let your trust in
Christ be stronger, and rejoice in Christ who is the victor over sin, death,
and the world. We will commit sins while we are here, for this life is not a
place where justice resides. No sin can separate us from Him, even if we were
to kill or commit adultery thousands of times each day.” Now, I don’t think
Luther was actually telling people to go and sin and not worry about it, but
his belief was that all we needed for Heaven was to believe in what Jesus did –
regardless of what we do or don’t do.
But
there is an equally dangerous extreme on the other side. The early Church
wrestled with a heresy called Pelagianism. Pelagius denied original sin
and said that we could freely choose to be perfect, even without God’s grace.
If we just tried hard enough, we could live good lives, and we didn’t need
Jesus to save us. Jesus was an example of a sinless life, said Pelagius, but we
can become holy just by imitating Him, even without His grace. I see this error
a lot at funerals where people say, “Oh, I know Uncle Billy didn’t
really believe or go to Mass or pray, but he was very nice so we know he’s in
Heaven.” That’s Pelagianism, and it ain’t good!
Both of
these are opposite errors. The truth, as Aquinas says, is in the middle of
extremes. And James puts it best when he defines what saves us: living faith.
We are actually saved by our faith in Jesus Christ, in His death and
resurrection, not in anything we’ve done. But that faith remains dead until it
is vivified by good works.
Consider
the example of the first person to enter Heaven, after Jesus. Do you know who
it was? It wasn’t Mary, or the Apostles, or some super-holy person. It was the
Good Thief who was crucified alongside Jesus. He turned to Christ and said,
“Remember me when You come into Your kingdom.” To which Jesus responded, “This
day you will be with Me in paradise.” He had no good works or deeds to bring to
Jesus – he was a thief, a public sinner. But by his faith, he was saved.
But –
what if he was brought down alive and allowed to continue his life…do you think
he could say, “Well, now that I’ve acknowledged Jesus as Lord, I can go out and
still be a thief.” Would that be saving faith? Of course not! Saving faith means
that we acknowledge Jesus as Lord, and then we live like Jesus is Lord.
We see
this same dynamic in the Gospel. St. Peter has rock-solid faith – he is the
first person to recognize Jesus as the Son of God, the Savior of the world.
What faith! But then when Jesus reveals to him the reality that the Christian
life involves the Cross, and the living-out of that faith becomes a stumbling
block.
A lot of
Christians have that same challenge – it’s easy enough to believe in Jesus in
our heads, but when it comes to actually living it out, it’s another matter. I
am reminded of a Peanuts cartoon where Linus says, “I love mankind! It’s people
I can’t stand.” It’s a nice notion to think that Jesus should be the center of
our life – it’s a little tougher when we’ve got to tell our kids’ sports coach
that we have to miss the game to get to Mass. It’s good theology to believe
that everyone is made in the image and likeness of God…but it gets a little
tough to put that theology into practice when we have to sit next to our
brother-in-law at the family gathering…you know, the weird one who is boring
and has no social graces and who always argues about politics. Faith plus works
equals the cross – but do not be afraid, for it is through the Cross that we
draw close to Jesus and become like Him.
I close
with another beautiful saint who combined great faith and piety with an active
love for the needy – St. Louise de Marillac. She was born and raised among the
French aristocracy in the 1600s, but cultivated a deep relationship with the
Lord. As a young adult, she felt called to be a cloistered nun (that is, a nun
who spends her entire life in prayer, never leaving her monastery but
interceding for the world). But she was rejected by all the religious
communities she applied to.
Confused
and lost, her family suggested that she try marriage. She married a good and
devout aristocrat, and they had one son. It was a happy few years, but she was
still restless – she wanted to put her faith into action but couldn’t find out
how to do it. Tragically, her husband died of an illness, and as a widow with a
son to raise she was cast into poverty.
Around
that same time, a priest named St. Vincent de Paul had been launching an
initiative called the Ladies of Charity, which recruited aristocratic ladies to
work with the poor. Unfortunately, the initiative was a failure – the rich
women would wear their fancy dresses into the slums and be afraid of getting
their hands dirty, while the poor they were serving were insulted by the
condescending attitude of the rich. Fr. Vincent knew he needed a new tactic,
where ordinary women, not the 1%, would actually serve the poor. He quickly
found a friend in Louise, who had the same vision of spending her life to
relieve the distress of the destitute.
Together,
they organized a group of young women who wanted to dedicate their lives to the
service of the poor and orphans. Starting with only four women, they soon grew
and attracted more young ladies who wanted to give themselves over to service,
for love of Jesus and souls. By the end of her life, she had opened over 40
homes where the poor, orphans, widows, and the sick could find food, shelter,
and love. The women she gathered to care for them became the Daughters of
Charity, a religious community that still exists to this day. She combined her
deep piety with a fervor to serve – the best of both worlds!
Like Jack and Jill, popcorn and a movie,
thunder and lightning – so faith and works go together. We are saved by our
living faith in Jesus Christ – a vibrant relationship with Him that is lived
out in our thoughts, words, and deeds.
No comments:
Post a Comment