At the end of a week when Our Lord repeatedly rebuked the Scribes and Pharisees – ‘Woe to you, hypocrites’; ‘Woe to you, blind guides’, and so on – and then put before his disciples the delightful imagery of the Bridegroom who arrives at an hour we least expect, and the Master who, on seeing that a servant has squandered the talent, casts him into the outer darkness where men will weep and gnash their teeth; this Sunday we are warmly encouraged to conform to God’s law, which always turns to our moral and spiritual advantage.

But how will such a call be picked up by the contemporary world in which pride and individualism reign, where every one considers themselves to be the law, or above it? Of course, such thoughts seem to arise mostly where God’s law is concerned; human laws – even if illicit or immoral – are followed blindly. We fail to see that, while humans make laws to suit individuals, lobbies, or regimes, God’s laws are above board and apply to both prince and pauper. Yet, we find fault with these – for God is up there, silent, as though inexistent, whereas humans down here are vociferous and exacting…

The First Reading (Deut. 4: 1-2, 6-8) rails against such inversion of principles and values. It highlights the importance of lovingly obeying God’s commandments; keeping them does not make us blind but wise and understanding. None should tinker with the law, reinterpret it, and much less dare to twist it. The Lord is very clear: ‘You shall not add to the word which I command you.’ Integrity should be our watchword. We must seek to follow God’s law in letter and spirit, with sincerity of mind and heart.

The Gospel (Mk 7: 1-8, 14-15, 21-23) clinches it. The Pharisees and the Scribes object to the disciples eating with hands unwashed, foolishly believing they would catch Jesus on the wrong foot. But Our Lord comes down heavily on them, quoting Isaiah, whom the scholars ought to have known: ‘These people honour me with their lips, but their heart is far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines the precepts of men’. Jesus further charged them, saying: ‘You leave the commandment of God, and hold fast the tradition of men.’

Obviously, Jesus had nothing against tradition as long it was in keeping with God’s law – and it did not become the law! In fact, only God and religion can be higher than tradition, which has the unique ability of putting the spotlight on the truth, goodness and beauty of God’s law. Or, as the Second Reading (1 Jam 1: 17-18, 21-22, 27) points out: ‘Every good endowment and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation of shadow due to change’ (emphasis ours).

What exalted words that expose the inanities we so often hear: that the Church must ‘move with the times!’ But how? By accepting the false standards of the world, by falling in love with its ways, by falling prostrate to it? Isn’t all of this happening in the name of adaptation, and isn’t that how Christian civilization is being put through a process of paganization? What a far cry from what Pope Leo XIII teaches in Immortale Dei, that wonderful Encyclical on the Christian constitution of States:

‘There was once a time when States were governed by the philosophy of the Gospel. Then it was that the power and divine virtue of Christian wisdom had diffused itself throughout the laws, institutions, and morals of the people, permeating all ranks and relations of civil society. Then, too, the religion instituted by Jesus Christ, established firmly in befitting dignity, flourished everywhere, by the favour of princes and the legitimate protection of magistrates; and Church and State were happily united in concord and friendly interchange of good offices.’[1]

A word to the wise is enough.  You can apply the papal concern to the abysmal state of affairs in the countries and continents you live in. In the name of Enlightenment celebrating reason and downplaying faith, the world began rejecting many traditional religious and political ideas that held society together. Under the pretext of secularization, which started with the French Revolution, all -isations flourished, except Christianisation. In the guise of an equal society, some became ‘more equal than others’, and in the name of emancipation, in the May ‘68 civil unrest in France, for example, it was forbidden to forbid!

The world can easily turn topsy-turvy when God is left out of the picture. It is not without reason that St James calls God the ‘Father of lights’ – He is indeed the true Enlightenment! And when Moses called upon his people to be a ‘great nation’ – a model in the sight of the peoples – he was probably referring to Greece, holder of a great artistic and philosophic culture, and to Rome, which enjoyed wide political power. But neither country could hold a candle to Israel, who had ‘a god so near to it as the Lord our God is to us, whenever we call upon Him.’

We are the new chosen people of God. We must ‘receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.’ But we must also ‘be doers of the word, and not hearers only,’ earnestly observing His law in letter and spirit.

[1] https://www.vatican.va/content/leo-xiii/en/encyclicals/documents/hf_l-xiii_enc_01111885_immortale-dei.html