A Handmaid’s Homily- 31st Sunday OT
We are often taught to think of love as being sentimental. It is something existing in the emotional realm that can be recognized but not defined—a swelling feeling in the chest when a friend shares a kind deed or a grin that slides across the face uncontrollably at the sight of nieces and nephews discovering the world. It is amorphous.
And yet, we are called in our readings today to understand love as something that has shape to it. We hear three times that we are called to love God not only with our heart and soul but also with our mind and our strength. God is not looking for us to share our sentiment alone, but rather to approach our faith also with intellect, understanding, grit, and service. When we experience moments of doubt, God invites into the struggle to ask questions and make meaning. When we encounter God in the faces of those around us, most especially those who are poor, love calls us to act and to serve.
St. Vincent de Paul once said to his confreres that we are called to love God “with the strength of our arms and the sweat of our brows.” This is the kind of love God wants from us—heart, soul, mind, and strength.
And who are we supposed to love? Our neighbors.
It’s as simple as that.
Jesus does not say that we should love our neighbors who practice the same faith as we do or who look like us or who vote for the same political party or who have the same immigration status. He commands that we love our neighbors as we love ourselves.
When I look at news headlines from the last couple of weeks and see the violence that has plagued our country, I ask myself, “Who am I not loving enough? Who, if I am being starkly honest with myself, do I view as other instead of neighbor?”
It is not enough for our sentiments to go out to the victims of violence and hate crimes in our country. Just as we are called to love God with our heart, soul, mind, and strength, we are called to love our neighbors with the same fortitude. We are called to speak out in the face of hateful rhetoric and racist violence, stand firm beside those who are persecuted for their faith traditions, and build tables of hospitality when the stranger is in our midst.
How can you commit to loving with your full self this week? Who can you turn to and embrace as neighbor?
