Charity Is Contagious: Spread It Around!
Exodus 22:20–26 • 1 Thessalonians 1:5c–10 • Matthew 22:34–40
From the conspiracies of the Pharisees, the religious interpreters of Jewish tradition, we moved last Sunday to their unlikely alliance with the Herodians, representatives of the political establishment. Today, we arrive at the participation of a lawyer, an expert in the Law, in the continuing attempts to entrap Jesus. In other words, the major sectors of society are represented in the unfolding opposition to Jesus: the religious establishment, represented by the Pharisees and Sadducees; the political establishment, represented by the Herodians; and now the legal establishment, represented by an expert in the Law. This sounds remarkably like the three arms of government in a functional democracy! The irony, however, is that those entrusted with interpreting God’s Law are now using their knowledge of that very Law to put the Son of God to the test. What a contradiction! Those who should defend divine truth have become determined to silence the very embodiment of that truth.
Our Gospel begins with an acknowledgment of the Sadducees’ failure to entrap Jesus: “When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together” (Matthew 22:34). In the preceding passage, the Sadducees, who denied the resurrection, had challenged Jesus concerning marriage and life after death. Jesus exposed their ignorance with the words: “You know neither the scriptures nor the power of God” (Matthew 22:29). Having witnessed the failure of their religious counterparts, the Pharisees now present an expert in the Law to challenge Jesus on the very subject in which they considered themselves most competent. Their question was simple but calculated: “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” (Matthew 22:36). Behind this apparently innocent question was another attempt to discredit Jesus. But once again, Jesus would transform an occasion for confrontation into an opportunity for divine revelation.
If the lawyer’s question was intended as a trap, there must have been something controversial about identifying the greatest commandment. Was there disagreement concerning the relative importance of the commandments? Could some obligations take precedence over others? Rabbinic tradition eventually enumerated 613 commandments in the Torah: 248 positive commandments and 365 prohibitions. Although this enumeration was formally articulated in later rabbinic literature, it illustrates the complexity of Jewish legal interpretation. Perhaps the difficulty was not simply the number of commandments but the temptation to become so preoccupied with religious regulations that their ultimate purpose was forgotten. During the missionary era in Africa, one occasionally heard amusing stories of people willing to embrace Christianity and observe all the commandments—except the sixth! They were prepared to accept the whole Christian moral code, provided one particular commandment could be conveniently suspended. Before laughing, however, we should remember that modern society has invented an eleventh commandment: “Thou shalt not be caught!” We know the commandments, but do we truly desire to keep them?
Jesus’ response transforms the entire discussion. Rather than selecting one commandment and diminishing the others, he identifies the foundation upon which all divine commandments rest: love of God and love of neighbour. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” He immediately adds: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself” (Matthew 22:37–39). Then comes his remarkable conclusion: “On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets” (Matthew 22:40). Jesus is not abolishing the Law; he is revealing its essence. Love is not simply one commandment among many. It is the principle that gives every commandment its meaning, purpose, and divine legitimacy. Any interpretation of religion that destroys love, undermines human dignity, or justifies cruelty has misunderstood the very God whose authority it claims to defend.
First, Matthew’s Gospel presents Jesus as the authoritative interpreter and fulfilment of the Law. In the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5–7), beginning with the Beatitudes, Jesus offers a profound rereading of the demands of covenant life. He declares that he has come not to abolish the Law but to fulfil it (Matthew 5:17). He moves beyond the external prohibition of murder to condemn the anger and contempt that destroy relationships; beyond the prohibition of adultery to challenge the attitudes that objectify others; and beyond conventional expectations of reciprocity to command love even for one’s enemies. This Matthean presentation reaches a powerful climax in Matthew 25:31–46, where the final judgment is described through the concrete works of mercy: feeding the hungry, welcoming strangers, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, and visiting prisoners. Christ identifies himself with the vulnerable: “Just as you did it to one of the least of these … you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40). Thus, love of God becomes credible through love of neighbour.
Second, Matthew’s presentation of the Law stands within a much older biblical tradition. The commandment to love God comes from Deuteronomy 6:5, within Israel’s great confession of faith, the Shema: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone” (Deuteronomy 6:4). The commandment to love one’s neighbour comes from Leviticus 19:18. Jesus therefore unites two commandments already present in the Torah and reveals their inseparable relationship. This is not the introduction of love into a religion that had never heard of it; it is the restoration of love to its rightful place at the heart of the covenant. The prophets had repeatedly insisted that worship without justice and religious observance without mercy were unacceptable to God. The Babylonian exile itself was understood by biblical writers as a consequence of covenant infidelity, including oppression and injustice. The Law was intended to create a community reflecting God’s holiness through compassion, justice, and respect for human dignity.
Through what biblical scholars call intertextuality, the interpretation of Scripture through its relationship with other biblical passages, we discover the deeper meaning of today’s Gospel. Deuteronomy commands love of God, Leviticus commands love of neighbour, and Deuteronomy 15:4 envisions a community in which there should be no poor among God’s people. Indeed, the same chapter commands generosity toward those who remain in need (Deuteronomy 15:7–11). Good neighbourliness, therefore, belongs to the very heart of divine legislation. This also explains the two dimensions of the Decalogue: our relationship with God and our relationship with other human beings. The vertical relationship must find expression in the horizontal relationship. Otherwise, religion becomes an impressive profession of faith without the corresponding practice of charity. What good is it to defend God’s honour while humiliating the human person created in God’s image? What good is it to protect religious institutions while neglecting the people those institutions exist to serve?
There is something deeply disturbing about the determination of Jesus’ opponents to destroy him in the name of defending religious truth. They were so convinced of their religious correctness that they were prepared to eliminate the very person through whom God’s truth was being revealed. Imagine that! To defend God by destroying the human being whom God loves! To protect religion by violating the dignity of another person! Unfortunately, this contradiction has not disappeared from our world. How often do we justify cruelty in the name of religion, discrimination in the name of culture, exploitation in the name of economic progress, and violence in the name of political necessity? The question Jesus poses through his teaching is not simply whether we know God’s commandments, but whether our interpretation and observance of those commandments make us more loving, more compassionate, and more respectful of human life.
Our first reading from Exodus 22:20–26 provides a powerful illustration of this principle. God commands Israel not to oppress strangers, widows, or orphans and not to exploit the poor. The reason is profoundly theological: Israel itself had experienced oppression in Egypt. God reminds his people of their suffering so that the memory of their liberation may become the foundation of compassion toward others. Those who have experienced liberation must become liberators; those who have received mercy must become merciful; and those who have experienced love must become agents of love. God did not liberate Israel from Egypt merely to establish another society in which the powerful would oppress the weak. The Exodus was intended to produce a people whose treatment of others would reflect the generosity of their liberating God. The lesson transcends ancient Israel and challenges every society that tolerates injustice, exploitation, or indifference toward the vulnerable.
Notice also the seriousness of God’s warning in Exodus. When the vulnerable cry out, God promises to hear them. The stranger may lack political influence, the widow may lack economic security, the orphan may lack protection, and the poor may lack social standing, but none is without an advocate. God himself becomes their defender! What a remarkable reversal of human power! Those whom society considers insignificant are precious in God’s sight. Those whose voices are ignored by human institutions are heard in heaven. Consequently, our treatment of the vulnerable is not merely a social or political question; it is fundamentally a theological question. It reveals whether we have understood the character of the God we worship. Indeed, the liberation of Israel from Egypt becomes a permanent challenge to every form of oppression. A people who have received God’s generosity cannot legitimately deny generosity to others.
No wonder St. Paul emphasizes imitation and example in our second reading. Addressing the Thessalonians, he praises them because they became imitators of the apostles and of the Lord, and consequently became “an example to all the believers in Macedonia and in Achaia” (1 Thessalonians 1:7). Notice the progression: they received the Gospel, imitated those who proclaimed it, and became models for others. This is how authentic Christianity spreads! Faith becomes visible through conduct, love received becomes love shared, and charity experienced becomes charity extended. The Thessalonians were not praised merely for possessing correct religious information but for allowing the Gospel to transform their lives. Similarly, Israel was called to imitate the generosity of the God who liberated them. Christians today are called to imitate Jesus Christ so that others may encounter God’s love through our actions. Paul also reminds the Thessalonians that they await Jesus, who delivers them from the coming wrath (1 Thessalonians 1:10). This expectation calls us to conversion and reminds us that our faith must bear fruit in lives transformed by grace.
Unfortunately, the imitation of Jesus Christ remains a formidable challenge in contemporary society. Our world is divided by wealth, class, race, ethnicity, gender, and social status. Even among the poor, distinctions of superiority and inferiority sometimes emerge. In Nigeria, we have the familiar expression, “I better pass my neighbour!” It captures the unfortunate human tendency to measure our worth by comparing ourselves favourably with others. But Christianity does not teach us to become better than our neighbours; it teaches us to become better neighbours! What a difference one small word can make! The Gospel does not ask whether I am richer, more educated, more influential, or more respectable than my neighbour. It asks whether I love my neighbour. Our Christian identity is not authenticated by superiority over others but by our willingness to serve them.
The needless poverty experienced in many African countries and other parts of the world exposes the tragic consequences of corruption, greed, and human indifference. Meanwhile, homelessness, economic inequality, and social exclusion in wealthy societies demonstrate that material prosperity does not automatically produce compassion. Gun violence, mass murders, genocides, racial discrimination, corporate greed, sexual exploitation, human trafficking, and forced migration reveal what happens when human dignity is subordinated to selfish interests. We live in a world that has achieved extraordinary progress in science, technology, medicine, and communication, yet we continue to struggle with the most fundamental commandment of all: love your neighbour as yourself. We can communicate with someone thousands of kilometres away in seconds, yet sometimes cannot speak kindly to the person living next door. We can send spacecraft into the heavens, yet struggle to extend a helping hand to those suffering on earth. Perhaps the greatest crisis of our age is not simply the absence of religion but the absence of charity among those who profess religion.
This brings us to the central message of today’s readings: Charity is contagious! Spread it around! Charity is contagious because love has the power to reproduce itself in the lives of those who experience it. A single act of kindness can inspire another; an unexpected gesture of generosity can restore someone’s faith in humanity; and an expression of compassion can transform despair into hope. The beneficiary of yesterday’s kindness can become the benefactor of tomorrow. This is precisely what happened among the Thessalonians: they received the Gospel through the example of others and became examples themselves. We need more Christians who understand that the measure of Christianity is not merely the number of prayers we recite, the religious titles we carry, or the positions we occupy in the Church, but also the number of lives made better because we have encountered them. We need more witnesses like St. Teresa of Calcutta and St. Vincent de Paul, whose lives remind us that love becomes most credible when it takes the form of service. Charity is not an optional decoration of Christianity; it is the very heart of Christian discipleship.
As we celebrate this Eucharist, let us remember that the Christ we receive in Holy Communion is the same Christ who calls us to recognize him in our brothers and sisters, especially the poor, the stranger, the lonely, and the forgotten. The love of God and the love of neighbour are not two competing obligations; they are inseparable dimensions of one Christian vocation. We cannot genuinely love the invisible God while deliberately neglecting the visible human being created in God’s image. May our worship become compassion, our prayers become generosity, our faith become service, and our love become contagious. May those who encounter us discover through our actions that God has not abandoned the world. Let our lives become living commentaries on the greatest commandment, and let our kindness inspire others to imitate the love of Christ. Charity is contagious! Let us spread it around! Amen.
Assignment of the Week
Do something that will make the beneficiaries of your kindness forget about you but think about God