Religion: Stick To It
6th Sunday of the Year
The priest who taught liturgy when I was in the seminary would address the whole community at the beginning of every year on how we should pray together. Each year, he gave the same admonition: Brothers, praying slower is not holier. Praying faster is not holier. Bending your will is what will make you holier. His point was that we should subjugate our preference, our will, in prayer and in all things to the divine will. For holiness is nothing other than the union of our will with God’s.
Christ’s point today can be taken as the same, in saying that his teaching does not abolish or replace the smallest letter or the smallest part of a letter of the law but fulfills the law entirely. This declaration can seem odd and even to be in contradiction with Jesus’ own life and the constant practice of the Church. Christians do not observe the precepts of the Levitical law. How, then, has he not abolished it? What from the old law remains in the new?
In every precept of the law – contained in every letter and every part of every letter – is a call to religion. The Latin religio derives from the verb religare which means to bind together. Saint Thomas Aquinas explains: [Religion] denotes properly a relation to God. For it is he to whom we ought to be bound as to our unfailing principle; to whom also our choice should be resolutely directed as to our last end; and whom we lose when we neglect him by sin, and should recover by believing in him and confessing our faith.1
Religion binds us to God; and every letter of the law, even the smallest, is a vital, indispensable thread that keeps us attached. The Jews understood this. The law was – and for many, still is – simply one with God himself. Fidelity to the law meant fidelity to God. Rejection of the law amounted to rejection of God. As Christians we do not observe the old precepts as such, but what does not pass away from the old law but remains in the new is that religion is a matter of binding and, therefore, of obedience. And, thus, if growing in holiness means progressing in religion, then we must bend our will to God’s, abandon our preference to his, and pray with all sincerity: Thy will be done.
Thomas Aquinas considered religion to be a virtue. A virtue is stable habit of the soul that disposes our affections and actions to desire and choose the good. To have a virtue is to have it always in every circumstance. Aquinas said that having the virtue of religion means our choice should be resolutely directed [to God] as to our last end. Religion entails that our choice – every choice and every part of every choice – is directed to God and to none and nothing else.
We know we are not there. At least not yet. We aspire to but have not attained real holiness, true religion. Now growth in virtue is always first and foremost the work of grace, but it also requires real work on our part. God is not simply going to snap his fingers and make us saints. We need to learn to bend our will. I’d like to challenge us this morning to do just that.
We can start with what are called the five precepts of the Church. As Catholics, these require our strict obedience, unless we have legitimate reason to do otherwise (and we should frequently ask whether our reasons are, in fact, legitimate). Catholics are obliged to attend Mass on every Sunday and on every Holy Day of Obligation; to confess their sins at least once a year; to receive Holy Communion at least once during the Easter Season; to observe days of fasting and abstinence prescribed by the Church; and to provide for the material needs of the Church.
If those precepts are firmly in our life, then we can continue to greater acts of obedience, which require our will to bend even further: attending the same church and the same Mass every weekend rather than going when and where it’s convenient; staying until the end of Mass instead of leaving right after receiving Communion; picking up the hymnal to sing even though we might not care for the music; and listening attentively to the homily even when it may be obtuse, dense, or just downright boring.
If at this point you’re patting yourself on the back, allow me to raise the bar even higher. Pick a fast, devotion, or work of charity and stick to it. Set a regular time for adoration or personal prayer and keep it. Give up something you enjoy every Friday of the year and don’t cave. Minister to those in need in the same way every week and don’t flake. Don’t make excuses. Don’t fudge or cheat. Don’t cop out. Do the thing you’ve resolved to do; and when you don’t want to do it, do it anyway; and you’ll be sure to grow in holiness. That’s how religion works, and by practicing real religion, you’ll get better at it. I promise.
Now don’t let me lead you to believe I have religion all figured out. I’m stubborn, finicky, and take any opportunity I can to do what I want, how I want, and when I want. I don’t have the option to leave Mass early; I get to give more homilies than I have to hear; but I need to be reminded every day that, if I’m to become holy, I’m supposed to bend my will instead of allowing my will to bend the world around me. I can do a better job with penance. I should make a more concerted effort to eliminate distractions in prayer. I might need to be better at responding to emails.
Of the non-essential suggestions I gave: pick one. Pick something different. Pick them all. I don’t really care. But pick something and stick to it. Every act of obedience, however small, binds us more closely to God and brings us closer to receiving that which God promises to those who are faithful to him. We’ll fall short. We’ll get frustrated and probably give up now and then. But God won’t give up on what he desires for us. Nor will he stop offering us the grace we need for real religion – real holiness – to be ours. As Sirach said: If you choose you can keep the commandments, they will save you; if you trust in God, you too shall live.
Homily preached February 12, 2023 at the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen.
Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, II-II q. 81, a. 1, cor.