The Greatest Commandment

Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time (B): Mark 12:28-34

Over this past year, we have seen many instances where people’s homes have been threatened – or destroyed – by wildfires, floods, or hurricanes.

Imagine that it’s your home that is threatened. You have just been told that you have thirty minutes to leave your home if you wish to save your lives. You can’t take everything with you, of course.

What do you save? The rest of your family, first of all. And then?  Your pets? Your wallet or purse? Some important documents? Your cellphone? Your laptop? Some clothing? A watch or piece of jewelry that came from a beloved grandparent? What do you leave?  In making these choices, you have had to set priorities. You discover what matters most to you. Not that you wanted to lose anything; but, when push came to shove, what was most important in your life? What defines you? What can you not live without? 

In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a midterm election coming up. We have seen many claims and counterclaims between the candidates. We’ve seen attack ads and scare tactics. Suppose we could corral all the candidates together and ask them one question: “If you are elected, and if you could accomplish only one thing while in office, what would it be? Oh, and you have to respond in sixty seconds or less.” The candidates’ responses to such a question would reveal – or so we’d hope – their top priority, the  theme that everything else they do will center on. What defines them? What determines how they will approach any issue?

What defines us? What determines how we will respond to whatever life throws at us? That’s not an easy question. Each one of us belongs to a large number of groups. We are a certain gender. We belong to a certain religion – or consider ourselves agnostic or atheist. We belong to a certain generation, a certain social class, and a certain ethnic group (or groups). We are members of a political party – or political independents. We are fans of certain sports teams and like certain brands. We could go on, of course. Each group has its own outlook, its own standards, its own purposes. So, when push comes to shove, what does define us? When we have to make a choice, what do we choose? What do we do when everything is on the line? What is at the core of who we are?

Now we come to our Gospel passage for this Sunday. It’s important to remember the context. Here we are in early November. Advertising seeks to make us think of Thanksgiving and Christmas. In our Gospel story, however, it’s Holy Week. Jesus has entered Jerusalem only two days before. Jerusalem, the Holy City, where the Temple – the symbol of God’s presence among his people – stood. Jerusalem, which was also the center of opposition to Jesus. Jesus knew well what going to Jerusalem would mean for him. He was putting his life on the line. He was placing himself out there among his opponents. When he cleansed the Temple, he was proclaiming that the Temple itself would have an end, and that it would be replaced by something – or Someone – else.

Jesus’ opponents wasted no time in trying to discredit him. Jewish society at the time was fragmented and polarized, not unlike our own. Jesus’ opponents didn’t agree with one another on many things. Their attacks on Jesus were all about defending their own position and trying to link Jesus with some other group that they opposed. The high priests, who were all about their own position of authority and influence, raised the question of Jesus’ credentials: “By what authority do you – a Galilean carpenter of all things – do what you do?” The Herodians and Pharisees – who did not have much in common with one another – came together to challenge Jesus on the question of paying tax to Caesar. If Jesus said yes, then they could portray him as a shill of the Romans and a traitor to his people. If Jesus said no, they could portray him as a zealot, a rebel, a threat to the Romans.  Then came the Sadducees. They were generally wealthy and influential, and saw no need of a future life where things might be different. They, therefore, challenged Jesus on the idea of a resurrection, trying to portray it as utter nonsense.

All of these attempts failed. Jesus would not play this game. These groups were all about defending their own position and justifying themselves. They assumed – implicitly – that Jesus would do the same if pressed on some point or another. They assumed that Jesus would take the bait and throw in his lot with this or that group. He didn’t.  Who was this Jesus? What was he about?

While all this debate is going on, one scribe is asking himself these questions. Even though the scribes who appear in the Gospels are usually opposed to Jesus – or at least rather critical of him – this scribe is intrigued. Jesus isn’t taking the bait. He’s not throwing in his lot with any of these factions. Who is he? What is he about?  What makes him different? What gives him an authority that draws people to him? What would make Jesus dare come to Jerusalem in the first place?

So, this scribe decides to stick his own neck out. He asks Jesus a question: not a trick question or a dismissive one, like the previous ones Jesus had had. A straightforward one: “Which is the first of all the commandments?” In other words, the scribe was asking this: “Of all the things we believe, of all the things that are important to us, what’s the most important? What is central? What must be preserved above all? What is the unifying idea that gives meaning to everything else?”

Jesus’ reply is just as straightforward. He begins with a quote from Deuteronomy that every faithful Israelite used as a prayer daily: “Hear, O Israel! The Lord or God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength”. Then, Jesus added a second commandment, from Leviticus, which was inseparable from the first: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself”.

For the scribe, Jesus’ response must have felt like a splash of cold water on his face. It was a wake-up call. Jesus had not said anything radically new. Jesus’ response, so familiar to his listeners, was at the same time a prophetic word, a diagnosis, an assessment of what was at the heart of these disputes. Even though all these groups had convinced themselves that God was on their side, they were not truly loving God with all their heart or mind or strength. In their desire for wealth, social status, or political influence, they had compromised their faith in some way or another. These disputes were, in the final analysis, self-serving. They were all about defending the egos of the participants, and had little to do with loving God.  They were all about showing themselves to be loyal members of their sect rather than truly open to the will of God – which might prove inconvenient at times to their group’s thinking.  They had, in fact, fallen for one of the temptations that Jesus faced in the wilderness before beginning his ministry. Satan had offered worldly power and influence to Jesus, if Jesus would but compromise himself ‘ever so slightly’ by worshiping Satan. Jesus would not. Nor should anyone who speaks or acts in Jesus’ name.

The scribe saw more in this. The prophets had often taken the leaders of Israel to task for this very thing. Some prophets had said that sacrifice was worthless – even an  offense to God – if it was not accompanied by a true love of others, especially the most vulnerable (the widow, the orphan, and the foreigner). The scribe recalled all of this and then came to the conclusion: “To love God with all your heart, with all your understanding, with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself, is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices”. A remarkably courageous thing to say, given that Jesus has just brought the Temple sacrifices to a temporary halt a day or two before and had been sharply attacked for this very thing. Yet, something that was not new, either. Many prophets had said this, speaking in God’s name.  It was a call to step back, look at one’s life, and repent.

Jesus took note of what this scribe said and approved of his insights: “You are not far from the kingdom of God”.  Then, we are told, no one dared to ask Jesus any more questions. Jesus had just exposed the chief problem with all of his opponents. They did not in fact love God fully, as they claimed that they did, but had all compromised themselves significantly.  They could not justify themselves in the end, but were guilty as charged. Moreover, Jesus himself was about to show the fullness of what it meant to love God and neighbor with all one’s being. He would very soon give his life for all.

It shouldn’t be too difficult to perceive the relevance of our passage for our lives of faith today. For one thing, religious leaders all across the political spectrum find themselves tempted to compromise their faith (and sometimes do) in order to gain status among others who share their political views. There is an equal temptation to attack those who do not share our political views by claiming that they are not true believers. The truth is this: if we truly wish to love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, then our faith must transform our political beliefs and bring them into line with God’s will, and not vice versa. Our political differences should be about how to implement our faith in our society, and not about what we actually believe or ought to believe. The core of faith transcends any political difference (or any other difference between people) and makes all believers one in Christ.  Loving God with all our being, and our neighbor as ourselves, makes it impossible to stigmatize or scapegoat anyone (or so one would hope!). Loving God in such a way means that we do not lie and that we do not accept lies.

Impossible, you say? History would give us lots of arguments in your favor. Nevertheless, the Lord insists that we are not only called to such a love but that we are gifted with the grace to actually grow into it. Jesus told us, “Love one another as I have loved you.” He meant it. Do we mean it? What, in the end, is our greatest commandment? Do we desire, more than anything else, to love God with all our being and to love our neighbor as ourselves? Will we live for this? Will we die for this? If we haven’t, it’s not too late to begin. The Lord calls us. The Lord awaits our response.