In today’s Gospel, within the context of a discussion about faith, Our Lord explains what the dynamics of charity (i.e., supernatural love) look like (see Catechism no. 1822–1823). As is always the case with Our Lord, when He speaks to us, He speaks about Himself in relation to us, and about us in relation to Him. Our Lord’s identity is inextricably linked to the fact that He assumed a human nature “for us men and for our salvation,” as we recite each Sunday in the Creed. Thus, we in our wretchedness and in our brokenness—in our profound needs—are the very purpose of our incarnate Savior’s incarnate identity. He came for us.
Thus, we can’t understand Jesus without also understanding ourselves and our need for Jesus. Nonetheless, in order to understand ourselves in relation to Jesus, we must really and truly understand Jesus (i.e., “Savior”). He comes for us, yes; but he comes to draw us to Himself. Consequently, us-in-Jesus is the goal of the Incarnation. Jesus came for us, indeed. But He came for us to give us Himself. Therefore, any reading of the Gospels must be attentive to three things. The objective of everything Our Lord did and taught is about who we are, who He is, and who He has called us to be in Him.
Today, when Jesus speaks about the relationship between a servant and a master, He explains that the human master would not invite a servant to take a place at his (the master’s) table. Rather, the master would instruct the servant to prepare something for the master to eat—specifically to put on an apron and to wait on the master while he eats and drinks. In this respect, the master is the center of the master-servant relationship. That is why the master instructs the servant to eat and drink after he, the master, is finished.
When we think about Our Lord’s life, however, we can recognize immediately that He does not follow this master-servant dynamic. At the Last Supper, He instructs His disciples to sit at table. And what does He then do? He feeds them with His Body and Blood—donning an apron and waiting on them, washing their feet. In other words, Our Lord reverses the order of the master-servant dynamic. He does not relate to His disciples as servants, but rather as friends. Our Lord serves His friends. He gives His friends His food, His drink, His time, His attention—and because His food and His drink are nothing less than His very own Sacred Body and Precious Blood, Our Lord gives to His friends His very Self.
Only faith enables us to recognize the supernatural truth: Jesus is the wisest and best friend. Jesus did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many (Matthew 20:28). And all those who in faith draw near to the Lord receive, with gratitude, His divine generosity.
This is why the heart of the Christian faith is not one of mere imitation, as if Jesus were the “model” who shows us what we ourselves should do in and of ourselves. Quite the contrary. Our Lord, by giving Himself to us, unites us to Himself. Consequently, as so united to Our Lord, we do the very things that He does because we are one with Him. All those who find their being and identity in Our Lord do those things that Our Lord does according to His being and identity. And because Our Lord in His being and identity is Savior, Servant, and Divine Friend, all Christians—all those configured and conformed to Him through the seven sacraments—also serve, in friendship, all those whom they encounter.
All friends of Christ share in the motivation of Our Lord. Our Lord’s motivation is one of supreme generosity. He is intent on communicating nothing less than His own divine goodness to those broken people whom He encounters. Likewise, we find our supernatural disposition to be one of participating in this communication of the divine goodness that we have received to all those whom we encounter.
The Christian life, thus, finds its very essence and identity in the divine goodness. This is why selfishness, fear, and isolation have no part in the Christian life—in the life of those who share in Christ’s life. It is impossible to restrict God’s goodness to a human circumference. God’s love is too big to be limited by a small and exclusive community. Rather, God’s divine goodness is effusive. It spreads. It’s for all. No one is exempt from the divine friendship. All are invited to the Lord’s table—to receive who Jesus is, to become united with Him, and to be united to all others in Him.
The dynamics of supernatural love—the theological virtue of charity—are realities that only faith can recognize. We need Jesus to reveal to us just how wonderfully he loves and how powerfully we can love through and because of Him. The Church that Christ instituted is a sacramental Church. This means that Jesus, whom we receive through the seven sacraments, is the principle of the Church’s unity, identity, and power. The Church is not built upon political, economic, or power dynamics. Rather, the Church is founded upon Jesus. And all those who draw near to the Church find their identity in Jesus. And because they find their identity in Jesus, they necessarily do those things that Jesus does. And what does Jesus do? He gives himself for “us men and for our salvation” according to the pattern and power of His divine friendship.
