A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, September 19, 2010 | Carl E. Olson
This paradoxical reality is evident throughout the history of the Catholic Church, which has an ancient heritage of monastic and hermit life, as well as a wealth—literally—of great art and cathedrals.
Today’s readings focus on wealth and poverty, and man’s relationship with mammon, or money. The reading from the prophet Amos is a cry against grave injustices done to the needy and poor, those least able to defend themselves. Even worse, such acts were being committed by those who appeared to be the most pious and Law-abiding, who followed the commandments about which days to buy and sell, but would then steal by using fixed scales. To them the poor were worth less than footwear.
The sin of those hypocrites was not just a matter of financial trickery, but—more importantly—treating other humans as objects without value, dignity, or rights. Such disrespect for fellow citizens, regardless of their income or social status, leads quickly to injustice. “Social justice can be obtained only in respecting the transcendent dignity of man,” remarks the Catechism of the Catholic Church, “The person represents the ultimate end of society, which is ordered to him” (par 1929).
This principle about social justice being rooted in a correct theological understanding of man is noteworthy. It shows that theological truth, not a political platform or social program, must guide the Christian in making decisions about handling wealth. Only when we have a correct understanding of man and his relationship to the Creator, can we seek to rightly understand and solve, to the degree possible, social and political problems. After all, Jesus never endorsed or condemned specific economic systems or political parties. “Discipleship of Jesus,” writes Pope Benedict in Jesus of Nazareth, “offers no politically concrete program for structuring society.”
Rather, it is by following Jesus that we learn how to navigate the treacherous wilds of finances, politics, and social concerns, as the Holy Father points out: “The restructuring of the social order finds its basis and its justification in Jesus’ claim that he, with his community of disciples, forms the origin and center of a new Israel.” This was demonstrated often by Paul, who exhorted Timothy to “lead a quiet and tranquil life in all devotion and dignity,” with the intention of bringing others to a saving knowledge of God and into the Church founded by the one mediator, Christ Jesus.
Which brings us to the reading from Luke’s Gospel and Jesus’ difficult story about the steward. Not all of the various interpretations can be given here, but suffice to say that Jesus is not endorsing dishonest financial practices. It seems that the financial aspect is not the essential point at all. Rather, the initiative and ingenuity of the steward—who could have easily wallowed in self-pity—is praised. This responsiveness of the “children of this world” is contrasted with the lack of action on the part of the “children of light,” that is, Jesus’ disciples.
Faced with the worldly cares of money and possessions, will the Christian feel sorry for himself, or will he ask, as does the steward, “What shall I do?” How will I handle my money? Will we control it, or allow it to control us, and thus become our master?
It is here we begin to glimpse a reason for the paradox described by Chesterton. The disciple of Christ can choose to do many different things when it comes to money (including giving it all away). But there is only one right thing to do when it comes to Jesus Christ: to follow Him.
(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in a slightly different form in the September 23, 2007, issue of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)
Readings:In Orthodoxy, his unique and engaging defense of Christianity, G.K. Chesterton, wrote of the “Paradoxes of Christianity.” For example, he noted that Christianity is accused by some of being too pessimistic, but is also described as too optimistic by others. Chesterton wrote that “Christianity was reproached with its naked and hungry habits; with its sackcloth and dried peas. But the next minute Christianity was being reproached with its pomp and its ritualism; its shrines of porphyry and its robes of gold.”
• Am. 8:4-7
• Psa. 113:1-2, 4-6, 7-8
• 1 Tim. 2:1-8
• Lk 16:1-13 or 16:10-13
This paradoxical reality is evident throughout the history of the Catholic Church, which has an ancient heritage of monastic and hermit life, as well as a wealth—literally—of great art and cathedrals.
Today’s readings focus on wealth and poverty, and man’s relationship with mammon, or money. The reading from the prophet Amos is a cry against grave injustices done to the needy and poor, those least able to defend themselves. Even worse, such acts were being committed by those who appeared to be the most pious and Law-abiding, who followed the commandments about which days to buy and sell, but would then steal by using fixed scales. To them the poor were worth less than footwear.
The sin of those hypocrites was not just a matter of financial trickery, but—more importantly—treating other humans as objects without value, dignity, or rights. Such disrespect for fellow citizens, regardless of their income or social status, leads quickly to injustice. “Social justice can be obtained only in respecting the transcendent dignity of man,” remarks the Catechism of the Catholic Church, “The person represents the ultimate end of society, which is ordered to him” (par 1929).
This principle about social justice being rooted in a correct theological understanding of man is noteworthy. It shows that theological truth, not a political platform or social program, must guide the Christian in making decisions about handling wealth. Only when we have a correct understanding of man and his relationship to the Creator, can we seek to rightly understand and solve, to the degree possible, social and political problems. After all, Jesus never endorsed or condemned specific economic systems or political parties. “Discipleship of Jesus,” writes Pope Benedict in Jesus of Nazareth, “offers no politically concrete program for structuring society.”
Rather, it is by following Jesus that we learn how to navigate the treacherous wilds of finances, politics, and social concerns, as the Holy Father points out: “The restructuring of the social order finds its basis and its justification in Jesus’ claim that he, with his community of disciples, forms the origin and center of a new Israel.” This was demonstrated often by Paul, who exhorted Timothy to “lead a quiet and tranquil life in all devotion and dignity,” with the intention of bringing others to a saving knowledge of God and into the Church founded by the one mediator, Christ Jesus.
Which brings us to the reading from Luke’s Gospel and Jesus’ difficult story about the steward. Not all of the various interpretations can be given here, but suffice to say that Jesus is not endorsing dishonest financial practices. It seems that the financial aspect is not the essential point at all. Rather, the initiative and ingenuity of the steward—who could have easily wallowed in self-pity—is praised. This responsiveness of the “children of this world” is contrasted with the lack of action on the part of the “children of light,” that is, Jesus’ disciples.
Faced with the worldly cares of money and possessions, will the Christian feel sorry for himself, or will he ask, as does the steward, “What shall I do?” How will I handle my money? Will we control it, or allow it to control us, and thus become our master?
It is here we begin to glimpse a reason for the paradox described by Chesterton. The disciple of Christ can choose to do many different things when it comes to money (including giving it all away). But there is only one right thing to do when it comes to Jesus Christ: to follow Him.
(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in a slightly different form in the September 23, 2007, issue of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)
