“Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, [love] is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.” 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8
St. Paul wrote these words in the first century during a time of great discord and uncertainty. The early Christian community of Corinth – a church that Paul himself had planted – was fraying at the seams. His followers were fighting over doctrine and couldn’t agree on common standards of religious practice. They were arguing about basic issues of charity, human dignity, and how to treat the poor in their midst. They were bickering over the perceived immorality of some of their own members.
Their community – which was founded with the sole purpose of spreading the gospel of Jesus – had already lost its way and was collapsing onto itself.
At his wit’s end, Paul sent the Corinthians at least two known epistles – at moments chastising his followers, sometimes scolding them, and others, like this one, where he used a more compassionate approach. In it, Paul strips down the message and brings it back to basics, reminding his followers that love is the answer to all of their many struggles: love people that you disagree with – even when you really, really don’t want to; love people that are different than you; love one another as Jesus loves you.
It’s easy to imagine Apostle Paul shaking his head and drafting a strongly worded letter to today’s Christians in the United States – complete with modern day italics and bold-faced print to emphasize key themes. (Given today’s climate, he would probably even have to resort to the dreaded FULL CAPS – the written equivalent of screaming – in order to get his point across).
As with the Corinthians, Paul would likely strip it down to the bare basics for us, too. Would he rebuke us for missing Jesus’ point entirely? Or would he instead take this opportunity to remind us that how we model love in our families, in our communities, and in our policies is the means by which we proclaim the Gospel with our lives?
National data suggest that we are not doing a very good job at this “love” thing. We are a country decisively albeit infuriatingly divided; we are a Church, too, that feels perilously close to collapsing onto itself. Two thousand years may separate us from the Corinthians, but our behavior in recent months and years indicate that we haven’t made much progress.
As a non-profit organization, Goodfaith is inherently apolitical. The IRS prohibits us from advocating or lobbying on behalf of a political candidate, party, or ideology.
Instead, our mission calls us as individuals and faith communities to be grounded in and guided by the rich social tradition of the Church. Those teachings provide us with a very clear roadmap for how to take what we believe as followers of Jesus and integrate those beliefs into both daily life and the public sphere.
Many practitioners and experts in Catholic Social Teaching have expressed deep concern about the current political climate and issues ranging from immigration and poverty to environmental justice and discrimination. The rhetoric alone around these topics has felt antithetical to the CST principles that we seek to uphold, including human dignity and the common good. These are the same values emphasized by Pope Francis consistently throughout his Papacy.
So, how can we as an organization – “a community of ordinary people resting in the belief that transformation, both inside and out, is rooted in the goodness of the gospel” – respond? How should we respond?
As St. Francis of Assisi once said, “I have done what is mine to do. May Christ teach you what is yours.’” Like many of our followers, friends, and loved ones, our Goodfaith team is actively discerning what is “ours to do” at this historic moment. While we don’t have all the answers yet, we’re going to start by listening to the direction of St. Paul.
We are going to love and honor the human dignity of all people, without exception, starting within our own households. Mother Theresa once noted that “Peace and war begin at home. If we truly want peace in the world, let us begin by loving one another in our own families.” How we engage one another in our own immediate and extended families is a perfect opportunity to model Christian compassion for our children and the world at large.
We will love our neighbors as ourselves, even those with whom we disagree and even when we really, really don’t want to. Like Jesus, we will listen with intention, repair fissures, and practice forgiveness when and where we can.
That same love will compel us to stand in solidarity with the most vulnerable in our society, even (especially!) when it’s unpopular or countercultural. Ten years ago, Pope Francis called us into a “revolution of tenderness;” at times like this, that is where you will find us – on the margins: accompanying, serving, and – when necessary – flipping some tables. Because sometimes, Jesus expressed his love as indignation, too.
We will try our hardest to bear witness to and engage our fellow disciples in the difficult, vital, and life-giving work of CST. It is clear that we have a lot of work to do, but we will steadfastly continue to be a sturdy champion of this sacred tradition.
Finally, we are going to love and hold unto the enduring hope offered by Christ in the Resurrection. Our belief that Jesus conquered death compels us to see the world not as hopeless, but as hope-filled. May this hope endure all things and guide our hearts, minds, and steps in the days, months, and years to come.
