What Kind Of People Should We Be?

What Kind Of People Should We Be?

[Note: Today’s guest blogger is Courtney Davis. Courtney was a doctoral student studying theology at the University of Notre Dame when she was stricken with disabling chronic illnesses. Though her health has kept her from returning to formal study, Courtney is a lifetime learner and still finds great purpose and joy studying what scripture tells us about community, justice, and the virtue of courage. When she is not studying, facilitating SWIFT gatherings, or advocating for meaningful healthcare and disability rights, she enjoys crafting and creating with recycled materials, gardening, watching K-dramas, and engaging in deep philosophical discussions with her 3 cats: October Sunset, Eartha Kitten, and Blue Lotus Moon. Thank you, Courtney!]

Leviticus 19:1-2, 11-18
Psalm 19:8, 9, 10, 15
2 Corinthians 6:2b
Matthew 25:31-46

Years ago, when I studied moral theology and Christian ethics, my coursework included subjects like Theories of Justice, Catholic Social Teaching, History of Christianity, and Classical Social Theory. The essence of all these studies crystalized into the never-ending question of community: Are we a mob or a people, and if we choose to be a people, what kind of people should we be? The scripture readings for this first Monday of Lent answer those very questions. And if they are read closely, they also instruct us about the observance of this liturgical season of fasting, prayer, and repentance.

The first reading comes from the Book of Leviticus, a collection of codes and ethical commandments that if the Israelites abide by, offer the promise of utopia, what MLK often called the Beloved Community. Israel had just been delivered out of Egypt, a place where human dignity and personhood were not recognized by Pharaoh. But the Lord wanted to set apart Israel from Egypt, not merely by physical distance, but by the practice of ethical behavior. The Lord instructs Moses to tell Israel, “Be holy, for I, the Lord, your God, am holy” (Lev 19:2), followed by a litany of proscriptions…you shall not, you shall not, you shall not, you shall not.

Some people understand Lent as the season of shall not. I shall not eat chocolate. I shall not drink coffee. I shall not eat meat. This practice loses sight of God’s vision of community. The holiness codes found in Leviticus proscribe behaviors that deny others – not just the self – dignity and personhood, behaviors that undermine community, not as it is defined by pharaoh (or facism) or a mob, but by God for the people of Israel. 

Jesus elaborates on the matter when he speaks to his disciples about setting apart the sheep from the goats, the virtuous from the vicious, Israel from Egypt. The sheep will be blessed and welcomed into the Beloved Community, the eternal kingdom, while the goats will be cursed with eternal punishment. And how does Jesus judge between the two such that one is set apart for all eternity from the other? The Gospel of Matthew tells us. 

Matthew depicts the eternal kingdom as a community shaped by living for and loving others as yourself; feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, and visiting the prisoner. This is what it means to be true followers of Jesus. “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for the least of mine, you did for me” (Matt 25:40). Love – not the habitual adherence to laws nor the practice of purity nor ritual sacrifices – is the defining character of community and the singular criteria by which the faithful will be judged. “You shall love the Lord, your god, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments” (Matt 22:37-40.)

“Now is a very acceptable time” (2 Cor 6:2b) during the 40 days of the Lenten season to ask ourselves and God, “Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?” (Matt 25:44). Perhaps the tougher question to ask and answer is not when, but why the least ones go unseen by, of all people, the people of God. Oversight or not, where ministry is lacking, the pain it causes is like enough to “curse the deaf or put a stumbling block in front of the blind” (Lev 19:14).

As a person who navigates the stumbling blocks of ableism, I facilitate SWIFT, a lay pastoral ministry for persons living with chronic illness and disability. The recurring theme that arises in our small Christian community gatherings is loneliness and the sense of being forgotten by the greater community. Everyone knows someone who is contending with chronic illness and/or disability. Are you standing idly by, waiting for the right time or opportunity to minister to and thereby love your neighbor as yourself? Now is a very acceptable time, particularly given the current political climate that is increasingly showing bald disdain for the least ones, and, in particular, the sick and the disabled.

There are many ways to serve those who are living with chronic illness and disability. If you have someone in mind, but don’t know how you might minister to them, simply ask how you might offer meaningful help and encouragement. For others wondering how they might serve, I share the following ideas as a starting point to get your creative thinking flowing:

  • Do you knit or crochet? If so, consider making a prayer shawl or 2 or 3 for those who are homebound. A handknit prayer shawl is one of the most thoughtful and meaningful gifts I’ve ever received. 
  • If you enjoy crafting and calligraphy, make “get well” or prayer cards to brighten the day of someone recovering from illness or surgery or undergoing medical treatment. 
  • For those who like to bake and cook, deliver a dish and/or dessert to someone who is feeling too weak to prepare a meal for themself.
  • Shovel a walkway when winter snow is particularly perilous, especially for people with mobility issues. 
  • Become a eucharistic minister and deliver communion to people at home or in the hospital. 
  • Offer to visit with someone and give their caregiver an hour or 2 of respite. 
  • Join Caring Connection and volunteer your time and talent to minister to those who need a helping hand around the house or perhaps a ride to a medical appointment.
  • Learn about the issues that affect persons living with chronic illness and disability and how you can become an ally and advocate for better healthcare and accessibility. 
  • If you are in a position of leadership, make an honest assessment of how welcoming and accessible your place of business, institution, or community is (or isn’t) to chronically ill and disabled persons. Then commit to continuously do better.  

The self-sacrifice of sweet delicacies and small luxuries, though well-intentioned, misses the point of community when it is defined by unfeigned love for God and neighbor. That said, you are free to abstain from chocolate, meat, and coffee for Lent as a sign of repentance and renewal. But during this liturgical season, consider the good counsel from Jesus, cosmic judge of the nations, “whatever you did for one of the least of mine, you did for me” and reflect upon where and how – for starters – you might incorporate ministering to the least ones into your Lenten observance.   

2 Comments

  1. George Dardess

    Thank you again, Mike, not only for reminding of us of our mandate to love the neighbor, and especially those persecuted, abused, ignored by the crowd.
    Rene Girard (whose writings on Christ’s sacrifice on the cross I can’t too highly recommend) observes that Christianity doesn’t differentiate itself from Judaism (as so many Christians still believe); it differentiates itself from paganism— the belief that Dionysus (for example) requires scapegoating, the murder of the excluded one. Christ’s death on the cross wasn’t wanted or required by God. It was the very human mob acting as it always does, and as Caiaphas recommended it do, in the Gospel of John. “One must die for the good of the many.” Caiaphas was acting there neither as a Jew (he should have renumbered Isaiah’s suffering servant, if so!) and certainly not as a Christian, but as a pagan. And today? I ask myself: In my dealings with people, am a behaving as a Christian should? Or am I pleasing Dionysus?

    • Courtney Davis

      Thank you, George, for your very thoughtful comment and for confirming my reflection was received in the spirit in which it was written. I will certainly take a look at René Girard’s The Scapegoat given my long-standing fascination with Isaiah’s Suffering Servant as symbol of liberation from psychological colonization and social conventions of power. All of these subjects and subtopics deserve our full attention and sustained focus, if we, as a people of God, truly hope to see our community as well as civil secular society endure.

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