Why God Became Man: the Garment of Love
Exodus 22:20-26 / Psalm 17(18) / 1 Thessalonians 1:5c-10 / Matthew 22:34-40
The Word of God today, especially the Gospel, is the continuation of a profound spiritual journey. As we were told in a recent Sunday liturgy, God has entrusted a vineyard to us, yet it remains entirely His. In His infinite goodness, He has given us a permanent invitation to tend it, promising that at the journey’s end, we are invited to dine with the master of the vineyard himself. Indeed, this is the main theme of the 30th Sunday of the year. However, God has created us free, and the choice to accept or reject this invitation to the banquet remains ours. If we choose to refuse, the Master can easily call complete strangers to fill his banquet hall. Yet, even as strangers, we cannot enter casually. We must put on the proper wedding garment for the feast, or risk being cast out. Today’s Gospel invites us to meditate on exactly what this proper garment is, cutting through the complex maze of legalism to find the true heart of our faith.
In our Lord’s time, two rival movements constantly vied for the control and loyalty of the Jewish people: the Sadducees and the Pharisees. Though they disagreed on many things, they shared a common opposition to Jesus. Having seen the Sadducees reduced to silence by the Master, the Pharisees seek their turn to embarrass Him. If they succeed, they hope to achieve a twofold victory: outdoing their rivals and ruining the public prestige of Jesus.
Assembled in a body, they agree to deploy a specialist in the Law, a scribe, to question Jesus on a problem that was the subject of endless, agonizing discussions. They had dissected the Law of Moses into an exhausting ensemble of 613 commandments, consisting of 365 prohibitions and 248 ordinances. In the presence of such an overwhelming structure, some Jews spent their entire lives neurotically monitoring their behaviour to stay in accord with the letter of the Law, resulting in self-righteous pride. Others tried and failed, leaving them trapped in the crushing anxiety of being permanent transgressors. Neither group knew the spiritual freedom of love. This is why there was a desperate, crying need for a synthesis and a simplification of the Law.
When the Pharisees question Jesus about this delicate problem, His answer is intentionally neither new nor innovative. It is perfectly in line with the Law as originally given by God; it is a profound reminder. The niggling legalism of the Pharisees made them forget the essential point: the Law was given by God to place humanity in a living relationship with Himself. Jesus reminds them that God is Love, and therefore, the primary command is to enter a relationship of love with Him. Furthermore, the equality of love which descends from God upon each person must unite us among ourselves, reflecting that divine origin. Thus, Jesus offers His beautiful simplification: the first commandment is to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind, and the second is similar to it – to love our neighbour as ourselves.
This commands us to ask a deep question: Can we truly love the Absolute? Can we love Him who revealed Himself to Moses as ‘I Am’? We can easily adore Him, tremble before Him, and fear Him, but can the human heart genuinely love a transcendent reality? The religion of Israel and the Holy Scriptures boldly answer yes. They constantly express a movement of the soul translated precisely by the word ‘love.’ This shows that the Revelation granted to the people of God differs radically from all pagan religions. While other cultures fabricated and chose their myths and deities, in Israel, it was God who took the absolute initiative of love to choose a people. Israel was prompted to love not an abstract, cold, or distant God, but a living and present God who actively governs history. Properly understood, the Law always appealed to the inner heart rather than external boxes. As the prophet Jeremiah foretold: “I will place My law within them, and write it upon their hearts” (Jeremiah 31:33). Yes, we can love the Absolute when He is revealed as the close, covenant-keeping God of Israel.
Yes, God Became Man, but the God of Israel desired something even more intimate. By becoming man in the Incarnation, the Son of God desired to be loved according to all the rich resources, emotions, and realities of the human heart. To love the ‘I Am’ revealed to Moses was a monumental step forward, but it had not yet reached the pinnacle of the Gospel. Since the Incarnation, God has clothed Himself in our humanity. He assumed the profound ensemble of human intellect, human will, and human sensibility. He made Himself vulnerable and accessible to the very power of loving that He placed inside us. Think of how important the name of a loved one is in any deep relationship. Out of fear and historical distance, Israel eventually lost the true, primitive pronunciation of the name of its God, hiding behind the consonants of the Tetragrammaton. But the Gospel changes everything. The Church loves its Lord Jesus Christ so deeply that it will never forget the Name whose mere pronunciation constitutes the joy of the saints. We are given the Name of Jesus, a Name we can speak, whisper, and love with a human heart. One who can be loved in the little one, the poor, my neighbour, etc.
We must be properly clothed for the Feast. Brothers and sisters, the wedding garment we must wear to the banquet of the Kingdom is not a checklist of rigid rules or self-righteous achievements. The proper garment is Jesus Christ Himself, wrapped around us in the form of love for God and love for our neighbour. Let us shed the anxiety of legalism and the pride of self-sufficiency. Let us look upon the human face of our God, call upon the sweet Name of Jesus, and allow His divine love to transform the way we care for His vineyard and love one another. Amen.
By: Louis S. Defour Niyondanga, M.Afr.











