Saturday of the Twenty-eighth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 472

It was not through the law
that the promise was made to Abraham and his descendants
that he would inherit the world,
but through the righteousness that comes from faith.
For this reason, it depends on faith, 
so that it may be a gift....

At the heart of Saint Paul's message is this mystery of "righteousness that comes from faith." As we struggle in an endless conversation to find words for this mystery we very often hear, "No, I can't say what it is but I'm sure that's not it." 

More often than not our "definitions" of the mysteries of righteousness, justification and salvation only protect them against definitions. That's how we protect them. And that's why there has always been so much heat in our dialogue. At the very moment I think I've had a brilliant insight, a revelation! someone tells me, "That's not it!" 

And yet, as a preacher or spiritual advisor I can hope that someone who heard me heard what the Holy Spirit was saying to her in particular. That revelation may bear little resemblance to what I said. The thought may never have occurred to me. And that's fine! What's important is what she heard and how she responds to the word. The preacher's work is to speak the Gospel as clearly as possible, and then get out of the way. 

That righteousness that comes from faith is more than just a passive acceptance of grace. I can't say I went by the Church this morning and picked up my grace and now I'm good. 

We look for gracefulness in the righteous. They are hopeful, confident and move with an air of joy even through difficult situations. They are not just here; they are sent here, and they carry the Presence of God with them. 

The "law" that Saint Paul struggled to uproot from his own spirituality and that of his disciples, especially former Jews, was a fearful clinging to certain toxic attitudes. These obsessions are repulsive and apparent to everyone except the persons themselves, and their hapless followers. 

They are not graceful; they are frightened. And they urge everyone to, "Be afraid, be very afraid!" Their Fear of the Lord is genuinely fearful but never in the sense of that beautiful expression. Even when the righteous ones act joyously it carries a threat with it. "Rejoice with me -- or else!" 

The Lord promised Abraham and his descendants they would inherit the world. The homeless Apostle, wandering from one synagogue to the next, winning souls for Christ when he wasn't being hounded out of town, owned the open road and every city, village and hamlet on it. He was not afraid to enter a town or to kick the dust from his heels as he left it. 

He carried always a gift but never a possession. He had received a gift but it still belonged to God. 

That's what oblation means, a word we often hear during the Mass. It's a gift received and given back and then received again. It belongs to the giver and receiver; it is a bond of their love. 

Life is an oblation, a gift that never belongs to me, like friendship, forgiveness and the sacred duties of our faith. Faith is an oblation, for just as I believe in God so does God believe in me. God knows the Spirit of Jesus that moves in us overcomes every obstacle. 

As I said, we struggle to fathom Saint Paul's doctrine of righteousness through faith. We are sure only that God understands and forgives our incomprehension.