Readings: Jeremiah 20:7-9; Romans 12:1-2; Matthew 16:21-27
As our nation’s two major political parties
wrap up their nominating conventions
the word of God this week remind us
that the call of Jesus to be his follower
is something far more radical and far-reaching
than the values enshrined in American politics,
and offers us a way of living together
beyond the endless and increasingly rancorous squabbles
that mark our public discourse.
St. Paul goes right to the heart of the matter:
“Do not conform yourselves to this age
but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.”
When Paul speaks here of “this age,”
he is not thinking simply
of his own first-century Roman culture.
Rather, he is thinking of the entire sweep
of human history lived in its fallen state.
He is thinking not just of his place and time
but of every place and time
in which human beings
seek worldly goods and glory
rather than “what is the will of God,
what is good and pleasing and perfect.”
St Thomas Aquinas, commenting on Paul’s statement,
notes, “the present age is a kind of measure
of those things that slip away in time” (Comm. Rom. n. 965).
To be conformed to the present age
is not simply to follow current fads and fashions
but to love too much
the fragmentary and temporary
goods of this life,
to be so enraptured by the glittering image
of power or wealth or control
that we fail to love
what is good, pleasing, and perfect,
that we miss the moment
of Christ’s invitation to be his follower.
And when, as it always does,
fortune’s wheel turns
and our power and wealth and control
turn to dust in our hands
and ashes in our mouths,
we find ourselves equally bereft
of those eternal goods,
those things that do not slip away in time.
“What profit would there be
for one to gain the whole world
and forfeit his life?”
This is not to say
that the politics of this present age do not matter.
For example, many sincerely believe
that one or the other presidential candidate
is clearly the superior choice as leader for this country.
Many sincerely believe
that one or the other party’s policy positions
clearly reflect the superior choice
for the future of America.
And people should undoubtedly vote
according to their sincere beliefs.
But let me say, in complete frankness,
that neither political party embodies fully
the vision of the good life for human beings
as understood by the Catholic tradition.
The vision of human flourishing
that has for centuries animated
saints and scholars,
prophets and Popes,
is simply not reflected
in the pre-packaged political platforms
that we are asked to affirm.
Whether it is a question of holding human life sacred
from conception to natural death,
or of the immorality of employing the death penalty
in modern societies,
of protecting the earth, our common home,
or of protecting the rights of religious conscience,
of making space for certain traditional values,
or of making space for the migrant and refugee,
it seems there ought to be something
that Catholics should find troubling
in all of the political packages presently on offer.
But the problem is not simply the failure
of our two major political parties
to cohere with the Catholic vision of human flourishing.
The problem ultimately is something deeper.
The problem is that politics,
rather than being a means
of negotiating our way through this present age,
seems to have become for many
the sole source of ultimate meaning.
Research indicates that while Americans
have become more willing to marry
someone of a different religion
they have become significantly less willing
to marry someone of a different political party.
To me this suggests that politics
has become for many what religion once was:
a bottom-line value that shapes our lives
in the most fundamental way.
The question is,
can our contemporary politics,
which is based upon winners and losers,
my side against your side,
us versus them,
bear that sort of weight?
Or, under the pressure of that weight,
does it inevitably turn into something quite ugly?
I was speaking the other day with a friend,
with whom I have some political differences,
and she said to me that what bothered her most
on the current political scene
is the amount of hatred.
One might respond, of course,
that heated emotions are normal
because the stakes in politics are high,
and policies and priorities
have a real impact in people’s lives.
And this is true.
But for a Christian,
those stakes are not ultimate.
As important as politics is,
if it engenders hatred in us
then we must ask ourselves,
what has gone wrong?
If we cannot see that those who support
a candidate we find reprehensible
are also people
who love their spouses and children,
who are capable of kindness,
and who are, like us, seeking some sense
of meaning and peace in their lives,
then we must ask ourselves
what has gone wrong?
If we cannot find a way to pray
for our political enemies,
then we must ask ourselves
what has gone wrong?
What profit would there be
for one to win an election
and forfeit the life of one’s soul?
Confronted with his own political enemies—
the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes—
Jesus chooses the path of cross and resurrection,
And he calls us to take up the cross and follow him,
and in doing so he points us to a different path:
the path, not of hatred and rancor,
but of non-conformity to this age,
the path of transformation
by the renewal of our minds,
the path of mercy and love.
In this season of political conflict
let us pray that God would open to us
the path that Jesus calls us to walk,
and may God have mercy on us all.
