One of the things you learn as a writer is that very, very few people view themselves as villains. Unlike (say) an animated movie, where the bad guy might have a song or quippy monologue about how much they love being evil, nearly everyone who participates in wrongdoing does so with the understanding that they’re the “heroes” of their own story: “I stole that money because otherwise it would have just gone to some rich jerk who doesn’t need it,” or “Sure, I enjoy drinking, but I work hard all day and I deserve it; I don’t neglect or abuse my family any more than I was growing up,” or “I only cheated on my spouse because I feel unappreciated and I’m not getting what I need at home.”
Today’s Gospel selection from Matthew has Jesus speaking out against “false prophets” – those who claim to speak for God. “By their fruits you will know them,” Christ says; by “fruits,” he’s referring to their deeds.
I was reminded of the nature of literary villainy – and its banal counterpoint in the real world – when I reflected on this Gospel selection. Perhaps I’m naïve, but I honestly believe that most of those “false prophets” don’t believe they’re false prophets. I don’t think they’re sitting in a darkened parlor with a brandy snifter, drumming their fingers and saying, “How can I corrupt the word of God today?” No; I suspect that many of them think they’re doing the right thing, or have convinced themselves that any deviations from Christ’s teachings are justifiable.
Obviously they’re not, but Christ is warning that we can’t rely on a pithy “of course I’m evil!” monologue from those who would lead us astray. Instead, we need to look at their actions – at how they make the world a better (or worse) place. Who do they prioritize? Who benefits from their actions? Who suffers? It’s entirely possible to loudly proclaim how wonderful God is while stealing from the poor or hurting the innocent; it’s also possible to be silently prayerful as you work to feed the hungry, tend to those in need, or comfort prisoners.
One of the elements that most attracted me to the Catholic faith as I grew closer to it is its system of moral consideration. In other faith traditions, it’s entirely possible to think of yourself as a practicing member while relying heavily – or even entirely – on your own judgment; you’re responsible for reading the holy text, you’re responsible for being prayerful, you’re the ultimate arbiter of whether your actions are good or not. But, as I opened this reflection, I note that humans are really good at justifying their own bad actions.
The Catholic faith isn’t like that. Yes, you have a duty to prayerful reflection; your conscience is supposed to be a primary guide for day-to-day interactions. But you’re also accountable in a larger sense. You have an obligation to attend Mass, to be among the community of faithful. When there, you’ll hear homilies from knowledgable priests who spent years learning the intricacies of the Catholic faith, teachings, and Traditions. You have an obligation to bring your children to Church, to have them grow with and among the community; you have a duty to instruct them in the faith yourself, and – in so doing – hopefully get closer to God yourself.
You have a requirement to personally reflect on your own transgressions and sins . . . often. If you have strayed seriously, you’re required to attend the Sacrament of Reconciliation, where – again – educated, faithful, impartial priests will use their Christ-given authority to absolve you of your sins. In fact, even if you haven’t sinned gravely, you’re still strongly encouraged to attend confession periodically as a way to bolster your spiritual strength and discipline.
The first reading today – from Genesis – is about the LORD telling Abraham how countless and blessed his descendants will be. Note how this entire passage is a dialogue: the LORD comes to Abraham and speaks, Abraham replies, God replies back, and so on. While these voices from the heavens are not a common part of the current Christian experience, this idea of a dialogue is. Those who justify their own misdeeds often do so in silence, coming up with justifications independent of what the words of Jesus say, what their consciences say, what their priests or faithful community might say. Jesus wants us to discern the actions of others to determine if they are false prophets, but we should also remain vigilant of our own actions – or inactions – to see if and how they deviate from God’s plan. And we must especially avail ourselves of the Church’s gifts to keep us from straying, since, alone, we’re much too good at convincing ourselves we’re not being villainous, if we’re not careful.
Today’s readings: Gn 13:2,5-18; Ps 15:2-3A,3BC-4AB,5; Mt 7:6,12-14
