Law and spirituality

Today’s gospel (Matthew 12:1-8) may be read by some as a warning against rigidity in the law. The Pharisees criticised the disciples for picking ears of corn and Jesus seems – some would suppose - to tell these hypocrites to knock off being so petty minded. It’s only a few ears of corn after all! Mustn’t get obsessed about the rules now, must we? But this is only to read the episode in a way that suits our let-it-all-hang-out, permissive culture.

Jesus of course teases the Pharisees with exceptions to their rule – for example, they cannot deny that David ate the loaves of the Temple, and that the Temple priests ‘break’ the sabbath too – but look how He bookends this teasing: Now here, I tell you, is something greater than the Temple. By the end of this passage likewise, He stakes another claim on His position in the order of salvation: For the Son of Man is master of the sabbath. Master of the sabbath? But the sabbath belongs to God in Jewish law: indeed, it is the object of the third commandment. Here, as elsewhere, Jesus is claiming to be God.

Jesus’ talk of law may seem far from spirituality, but both spirituality and law seek the good of man in different but complementary ways. In human law, the law giver keeps the law, but the law is also meant to keep the lawgiver. This is why it is possible in some extreme circumstances to envisage overthrowing a lawgiver or at least to resist their requirements. The famous Nuremberg defence – I was only following orders from my superior – is no defence in human courts, nor perhaps before God. Neither the obligations of love nor those of obedience dispense us from responsibility. We must of course understand those responsibilities properly; Christianity is not anarchy.

The difference with Jesus, however, is that He does not simply give the law; He is the law, the way the truth and the law of life. The Pharisees wanted to acknowledge the Temple but here they were in the presence of Someone higher.

And that is the reason why Jesus allows the disciples to act as they do. In the gospel, the lower law of the Torah is about to be set aside in favour of the higher law of freedom in Christ. For in every command of the law, there is meant to be a dynamic towards God, for God is the end of all good things.

So that when Jesus requires mercy not sacrifice, He is not, like some hippy, saying, “Let it all hang out, man”; He is saying not to make an idol out of the lower laws. Or rather, obey the higher laws first.

And that is good spirituality. It is the spirituality of St Thomas More who resisted his king and found a martyr’s crown. It is the spirituality of St Athanasius who got himself excommunicated for standing up to the Arian heretics while Pope Liberius – the first pope not to be given the title of saint when he died in 366 AD – dithered and crumbled before their persecution. At least he later went into exile fearlessly.

Jesus will have mercy and not the sacrificial pyres that we build to honour our idols. The question for us then is whether we prefer the warmth of His mercy or the bonfire of self-interested human vanity.