Living a Life of Sacrificial Love for God and Others

Living a Life of Sacrificial Love for God and Others

There’s a revolution going on.

The revolution is called the Theology of the Body. It is a gift and legacy given to the Church and the world by Saint John Paul the Great. Centuries from now people will look back on it as a turning point in our understanding of what it means to be human, a unity of body and soul.  The Theology of the Body (TOB) is a large body of theology. As Pope, John Paul laid it out over the course of 129 lectures spanning five years. We use TOB as a framework to teach 6-12 graders about sexuality, chastity, vocation, what it means to be created male and female and, above all, what it means to be made in the image of God.

It’s more than a glorified “abstinence talk.” TOB is an anthropology that gives us keys to approaching some of life’s biggest questions. What is the meaning of life? Why are we made the way we are? What were we made for? Where do evil and suffering come from? What is the ultimate end of all this? The short answer is this: we are made in the image of God, which means we are made in the image of Love. We are made by Love, in the image of Love, and our purpose is to love and be loved. Jesus showed us what love is by His suffering and death. He showed us that love isn’t a cozy feeling. His heart wasn’t warmed by the thought of His passion, but filled with sorrow even to the point of death. His love for the Father meant obedience to His Will.

We were created to love—to make a gift of self. Saint Maximilian Kolbe has two incredible quotations on the nature of love. “Let us remember that love lives through sacrifice and is nourished by giving. Without sacrifice, there is no love.” The second is even simpler and sums up what it means to love quite plainly: “The cross is the school of love.”  Everything we need to know about how we are to love, we can find in contemplating the cross. On the cross, Jesus was poured out completely for the sake of the same people who put him there, including you and me (Philippians 2:5-8). His sacrifice was freely given and required nothing from us (John 10:17-18, Romans 5:8). The ultimate act of love is given for us and will not be withdrawn or canceled (Revelation 21:3). And the cross is more than an act to inspire us—it brought us salvation (1 Peter 2:24) and defeated death in the Resurrection (1 Corinthians 15).

Jesus gave us the Greatest Commandment in two parts. First, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.” The second is, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” And the example of what this love looks like is the cross. It is obedience to the will of God. It is sacrificial love given totally, freely, without condition or an expiration date, and desiring the good of the other for their own sake. It isn’t always emotionally rewarding and it is often the last thing we feel like doing. This kind of love isn’t hard; it’s impossible, without God.

That is why love is called a theological virtue. It comes from God. The unambiguous instruction to love God and love your neighbor is an opportunity to participate in the love of Christ. He shares with us His divine nature, which is love, and we return it by our love for Him and others. This cycle of self-gift, which begins for us here on Earth, is Heaven. It is the end for which we were made and it is nothing short of revolutionary.


Do I Give to God What Belongs to God?

Do I Give to God What Belongs to God?


“Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.”

Hypocrite is one of those words that many people use and use incorrectly. Jesus was the first person to use it as a criticism. In modern use, it has come to describe a person whose actions don’t match their stated beliefs.  An obese cardiologist? Hypocrite! Someone who claims to love the environment but drives a gas guzzler? Hypocrite! Family values politicians who are unfaithful to their spouse? Hypocrites! When actions don’t match words we all get upset—and rightfully so. We all want a world where we can take people at face value. What we commonly call hypocrisy undermines trust. But I think we commonly misidentify this disparity between word and deed.

If we are honest, each of us is in some way guilty of what we say differing from what we do. We might tell our kids to put down the phone or tablet while engrossed in our own device. Or we urge others to drive more carefully while we drive with distractions. We know what is best for us and do something less. We opt for the extra donut over the apple (or butter coffee), the nap over the brisk walk, impatience over the kind word, or one more episode on Netflix over prayer and scripture. But this doesn’t make us hypocrites in the sense that Jesus used the word. These examples and many more are really instances of concupiscence and weakness as a result of the Fall.

In Jesus’ time, “hypocrite” was the Greek word for a stage actor who wore a mask. When Jesus called someone a hypocrite he was implying that they were playing a role, wearing a mask. Hypocrites were people more concerned with their image than anything else. Their aim was not to be righteous but to appear righteous and gain the praise of the world. In this Sunday’s Gospel, it is the idea of image that really stands out.

The hypocrites come to Jesus with a trick question. They approach him with false praise for his teaching and wisdom, even laying it on thick. Should we pay taxes to Caesar or not? Jesus disappoints them with a better answer than they could have expected. “Whose image is this and whose inscription?” “Caesar’s” “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” If the gold coins are Caesar’s because they bear his image, then how do I know what belongs to God? What bears His image? We learned what bears God’s image in the first chapter of the first book of the Bible. We do. We belong to God.

To repay to God what belongs to God we have to give Him our whole self. Repaying God means giving him glory and honor. It means giving Him our time, talent and treasure. The Pharisees and Herodians wanted a debate that would end in Jesus saying something they could use to condemn him. What they got instead was a simple and clear teaching—take off your masks. Stop pretending to be something you are not. Remember that the only image that matters is not the one you craft for public approval, but the Imago Dei—the image of God. We are commanded to shine like lights in a dark world. While our ideals and actions might not always agree, we can begin to shine by removing our masks and letting the world see Whose image and inscription we bear.