There appears to be a priority when it comes to how we love. Jesus began by stating that we ought to love God with all our being and might and that the second love resembles the first and that is to love our neighbour as ourselves.
This priority does not indicate that the latter is less important. To better state, perhaps it can be phrased that the love of the invisible God is expressed through the love for our neighbour. The 1st Reading provides the context of knowing who our neighbour is. The Israelites were reminded that they were once disenfranchised and that the Lord heard their cries and came to their rescue. In other words, God reaching out to the oppressed Israelites becomes the basis for our assistance toward those who need help—namely, the stranger, the widows and the orphans. God loves the poor and those marginalised by society.
We express our love for God through expanding space for these whom the Lord Himself loves. Take for example these quotes by two Church Fathers. A homily of St John Chrysostom is cited in the Catechism (#2446) that “Not to share one’s wealth with the poor is to steal from them and to take away their livelihood. It is not our own goods which we hold but theirs”. He is echoed by St Ambrose who remarked that “You are not making a gift of your possessions to poor persons. You are handing over to them what is theirs. For what has been given in common for the use of all, you have arrogated to yourself. The world is given to all and not only to the rich”.
The richer we are, the more alien this sounds and the more danger of becoming lukewarm. There could be an explanation for our jadedness or forgetfulness. As broadcast media evolved from print to video, we have become accustomed to seeing people die unnecessarily that death does not faze or impact us anymore. Disaster numbs us and when requests come one after another, some might call it compassion fatigue. In the same manner, branding and advertisements have helped to promote wanton wastefulness as normal. Just like “clutter-blindness” at home, we are no longer moved by the reality that many are languishing from the wants of basic necessities in life.
The Church has been consistent in sounding out that the love of God must always have as its horizon the love for the poor. As gap between rich and poor widens, the Church embraces a position consistent with God’s option for the marginalised. God is called the Father of widows, orphans and the poor. The Church in her desire to be authentic stands with God on this option.
The two phenomena of compassion fatigue and lukewarmness possibly indicate that our priority has been underemphasised. In fact, compassion fatigue is actually a call towards understanding our priority. Love for the poor is never proof of our love for God because so many philanthropists love the poor and work on behalf of them. Many are of them are atheistic humanists who have no belief in God. But the contrary is true. Love for the poor is a direct consequence of our love for Christ.
Part of our challenge is that we will always be faced with the existential reality of inequality. When Judas protested about the expensive nard used for anointing, Jesus said, “The poor you will always have with you”. No matter how tempting, the solution is not more programmes to eradicate poverty. Noble or “Nobel” as it may be in this post-pandemic era where more are pushed into the category of extremely poor. The answer to poverty is to encounter Jesus at a personal and existential level.
Mother Teresa is our prime example in this era of global inequality. We are fascinated by her reach towards the poor. But the truth of her love for them is Jesus Christ. Her intense love for Him opened her eyes and heart to the destitute and the rejected. It was not an idea of equality that drove her charity. It was Jesus Christ and not an idea of how the world can be reorganised or reshaped. The way to love the world was and still is a person, Jesus Christ. In Him everything we are and do find its meaning. He is God for whom we ought and desire to love with our whole being. He is man from whom every man, woman and child finds his or her image. He is not an idea but the only Person who can give us joy and the inclination to love.
In the love of our neighbour, the presence of the poor remains our challenge. St James says that faith without good works is dead. Love for the poor is really a test of faith. In way, many are taking St James seriously in desiring to make the world a more equal place. The mistake is to begin with the idea of justice for all humanity. Philanthropy has shown us that it is possible to love one’s neighbour without loving God. The greatest experiment of philanthropy was Communism. The heart of Communism is based on love for our fellowmen. The philosophy that everyone should have equal access to the goods of the world springs from a noble love of humanity. While the principle is laudably philanthropic, it does not flow from the love of God and the systematic failure of Communism has shown us that our love for humanity cannot flow from an ideal because it will lead to abuse.
What we can do is to turn the saying around in order to ground these two commandments. The usual pose is pivoted on “How to love the invisible God if one does not love the visible brother?”. When the order is reversed, it is precisely that “I give honour to the invisible God and love Him with my entire being that I am able to love the Christ who is in front of me. Philanthropy is not “theophilic”. Rather Theophilus, “the love of God” is the reason for philanthropy. Sit in front of the Blessed Sacrament in adoration and you will understand what that means. The same Jesus hung on the Cross, in His love for the Father, He cried out “Forgive them for they do not know what they are doing”. He showed us that our path to a better world has to be different. The highway to a graced society begins with our personal and existential encounter with Jesus, not an ideal! Even the Synodal process will be a failure if it is not centred on Jesus.
It is Jesus. It is always Jesus. It will always be Jesus.
