It’s hard for me to overstate how much responsibility I feel when writing these reflections. I mean, I’m obviously not as important as someone who makes decisions for an entire company, or someone whose words and actions can spur a nation, or someone who manages the financial accounts for thousands of pensioners.
But, from another point of view, I feel like I have a bigger responsibility. Like, if this were a technology blog, and I gave some terrible piece of advice — “To make your DVD player work better, spoon in ice cream!” — someone could get really hurt or suffer serious property damage through my terrible insight. (Please don’t feed your DVD player ice cream!!!) And that would be really bad. But even that terrible insight is only limited to affecting the mortal body.
In contrast, I’m trying to come up with insight and reflections that — if I’m wrong — put something even greater at risk. Because no matter how important we find the economy, politics, or hobbies, our souls are really the most important thing to which we’ve been entrusted.
This has all been on my mind as I reflected on today’s Gospel selection, from Matthew. There, Jesus teaches, “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but underneath are ravenous wolves.” Yikes!
To unpack that a bit, my annotated New American Bible helpfully notes, “Christian disciples who claim to speak in the name of God are called prophets . . . They were presumably an important group within the church of Matthew. As in the case of the Old Testament prophets, there were both true and false ones, and for Matthew the difference could be recognized by the quality of their deeds, or fruits.”
Now, I’m stepping around the notion of what “prophet” means in this context. (This very site has a number of previous posts about the notion of false prophets that might prove illuminating.)
But in broad strokes, the notion speaks clearly to me: It’s trivially easy to claim moral authority, to claim special insight into what God wants, or thinks we should do, or how we should act. The Bible is large enough and written with enough voices and context — and for different audiences — that you can generally find Biblical passages to support even the most horrific atrocities.
I see those who’ve made very comfortable livings by giving folks what they want. Large “megachurches” whose leaders live opulent lifestyles while encouraging their followers to give more and more to the church leaders. “Christian” writers and speakers who preach messages that are clearly at odds with what Jesus plainly espouses. The rich and powerful with ornamental crosses around their necks and Christian motivational posters on their walls, who resist basic Christian ideas of charity, sacrifice, and humility.
And as a writer, I know the “tricks.” It’s not that difficult. I could tell you exactly what you want to hear. I can give you the tools you need to feel completely at ease in your own life and soul. “Oh, Jesus loves and forgives you no matter what,” or “You’re guaranteed to go to Heaven so long as you believe and do this,” or “Your enemies will all suffer far worse than the cruelties they’ve inflicted.” This could lead to a flabby, superficial “belief,” one which doesn’t really do much to help bring about the Kingdom of Heaven here on Earth but helps you feel better about yourself.
Conversely, I could do the opposite, challenging every belief you have and attempting to shatter all your preconceived notions of the faith. “Everything you know about [X] is wrong!” makes for popular clickbait headlines in modern media. I’m sure we’ve all encountered people of “faith” who make us feel like trash, like nothing we’re doing is good enough and that no amount of effort will make us “worthy” of God’s love. It can lead you to think that God will reward you with material wealth and possessions if only you do the right thing and act a certain way.
But the gulf between what we want, what would challenge people, and what we actually need at any given moment is great, especially when it comes to our faiths. I recall hearing a wise priest reflect on the teaching he received about the Sacrament of Reconciliation. He noted that you have to resist the temptation of hearing these people’s confessions and trying to console them, to minimize their sins or what they feel bad about. In our day-to-day lives, as friends, that’s exactly what we do: “Oh, you were justified in treating that person cruelly, because they were jerks!” or “Sure, you treated your spouse with disrespect, but you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately.”
But a priest can’t do that. He has to accept the confession as what it is — an attempt to be better — and give God’s forgiveness for those confessions. He can then help the person put those ideas in a larger context, but the response to the underlying confession can’t be to dismiss or minimize the confessed sin.
Similarly, even though I easily could tell you what you want to hear — what would be comforting and reaffirming — sometimes that’s not where my reflections take me. Sometimes I find the daily readings challenging, pushing me outside my comfort zone or making me think about the Faith in a new way. Sometimes I realize that I’m not the person God needs me to be, and I need to try harder.
So, as I write these reflections, I struggle with how to stay true to the Word, and how the Spirit is moving me, and the teaching of Christ, and myself. As I noted last week, failing to act isn’t an option.
Honestly, I don’t have a pretty bow for how to tie this reflection up. About the best I can offer is to understand that I’m just a person. I claim no special insight; I have faith in the Spirit, but I try to be humble enough to know that my human nature could get things wrong.
Jesus called those who walked with him in a simple fashion: “Follow me.” The path that Jesus walked was not always straightforward, and anyone who walked with him who thought they knew exactly how the journey was going to end was no doubt surprised. And the lessons that Christ was trying to teach them at any given moment were not always obvious. But the important thing is the journey and the humble heart that comes with truly following Jesus.
It seems the danger of “false prophets” may always loom as a possibility. But the wisdom and responsibility to keep ourselves from falling sway rest with our devotion to the Spirit of Truth, and our own discernment with understanding how any prospective messages reflect on what we know to be true (via Sacred Scripture and the Traditions of the Church).
To me, the best spiritual reflections don’t promise an answer, but ask a question or give something new to think about, the conclusions of which are left to the reader. We know the ultimate answer — the promises of Christ — but the path we walk with Jesus can be filled with beautiful unknowns and questions to ponder. The joys of the Faith are that there are so many ways to get closer to God: prayer, Sacred Scripture, speakers, Stations of the Cross, devotions, encyclical readings, historical research, and more.
Try to be aware of those who might tell you just what you want to hear. Although Scripture contains many words of comfort and hope, God Himself told humanity things they didn’t want to hear lots of times . . . but in those cases, it was always what we needed to hear. When it comes to reflections such as these, the humility that comes with trying to come closer to God can serve well those who read as well as those who write. The Holy Spirit continues to work wonders in the world; let’s pray that our hearts remain open!
