Guild of St. Peter ad Vincula

The Guild of St. Peter ad Vincula

Once again, the Pharisees in today’s Gospel are up to no good.  As our Lord entered the house of one of them to eat bread on the sabbath, it says that “they watched him.”  Why did they watch him?  To learn from his teachings?  No.  To seek out the depth of his wisdom and love so they could improve themselves?  No!  They watched him so they could find an opportunity to criticize him, to trip him up and hopefully make him look ridiculous and ignorant, or better yet, to show the world how our Lord defied the laws of God.  As usual, they failed.  Their pathetic attempts to trap him were no match for the “breadth and length and depth and height” of our Lord’s wisdom.

Christ heals on the sabbath.  He makes no apology for doing so.  He doesn’t need to.  The Third Commandment tells us we must keep holy the sabbath day and one of the chief ways of doing so is by avoiding unnecessary servile work.  The small requirement of what we call “common sense” comes into play here.  What would God consider unnecessary servile work?  Obviously, the sabbath is not the day we should choose to mow the lawn, do our spring cleaning, or paint the fence.  But healing the sick?  In no way does such an act of charity break the sabbath requirements, and we would be foolish to think otherwise.  The Pharisees, however, were extremely strict followers of the law.  They followed the letter of the law and not its spirit.  So instead of using common sense, they viewed our Lord’s miraculous healing as a travesty of the Third Commandment.  As if God would allow a miracle to take place that would offend him by breaking one of his own commandments!  It makes no sense at all.

Our Lord admonishes them for their foolishness, pointing out that they would have no hesitation in rescuing one of their farm animals if they fell into a pit on the sabbath.  He’s not saying they shouldn’t rescue the poor beast.  He’s saying there are certain circumstances that allow us to ignore the precepts of the law, and that if we can do so for a mere beast of the field, we should all the more show charity to a fellow human being with an immortal soul.  A healer may heal on the sabbath and not fear offending God by doing so.  If we’re in a car accident (God forbid!) we have the right to expect that a surgeon will perform the necessary work to save our life, irrespective of the day of the week.  Any doctor who refuses to do so because “it’s the sabbath” would be reviled by his profession and the world at large, and rightly so.

The Pharisees, of course, were unable to come up with a good response to our Lord.  They “could not answer him” and that shouldn’t surprise us.  As usual, they had fallen into the trap they themselves had laid.  They based their entire argument on the letter of the law, completely ignoring the far more important spirit of the law.  And as we know, the overriding spirit of every law is the spiritual welfare of those subject to it.  The salvation of souls is The Supreme Law, and any law that goes against the salvation of souls ceases to exist.

Sometimes there is doubt as to when one must ignore the letter of the law in favor of the spirit of the law.  Normally it is only the person appointed to uphold the law who may resolve this doubt and determine whether the letter should be obeyed or not.   Members of the Benedictine Order, for example, must seek such resolutions from their local abbot.  If the Rule prescribes that a monk must not spend the night away from the monastery, then he must first seek permission before venturing on a trip that would necessitate such a dispensation from the Rule.

There are rare cases, of course, where we cannot have recourse to the lawgiver to give us such a dispensation.  What then?  Can we just presume the dispensation?  If circumstances arise that would prevent the monk from returning to his monastery before the ending of the day, can he just presume it’s okay to stay out?  You may think common sense should be enough to determine his action.  What are the circumstances that keep him out?  Is he tending to a dying man who needs the presence of a priest at his deathbed?  Or was he simply invited out to nice dinner at local restaurant?  With a little common sense we’ll easily come up with the right answer and make the right decision.  But actually, our decision should be based on something more concrete than merely our own prudence.

So when can I presume a dispensation from the law?  Only when there is a reasonable assumption that, if asked, the lawgiver would give the dispensation.  The monk’s superior could be presumed to make a dispensation for the dying man but probably not for the steak dinner.  The monk’s decision should be based only on his consideration of the abbot’s likely wishes, never on his love of a good porterhouse.  This kind of presumption of dispensation, though, is never as infallible as following a direct order from the superior.  If we can get in touch with him, we must.

If we can’t, we’re invoking a moral principle called Epikeia, which allows us to ignore a law in circumstances where we’re unable to ask the lawgiver for a dispensation but we’re sure he would give it.  A monk is allowed to break the rule of silence, for example, if he needs to alert people there’s a fire.  Normally, though, laws are there for a reason, and we shouldn’t ever dispense ourselves without grave necessity.

As to whether our Lord should have asked the Pharisees for a dispensation, the answer is a resounding no!  The law of keeping holy the sabbath was not devised by the Pharisees.  It was commanded by God himself on the tablets of stone he gave to Moses.  And Christ was God.  He is God.  He is the lawgiver.  He, and not the Pharisees, was the One able to dispense from the law, or in this case, to interpret the law by its spirit and not its letter.  Even bishops and popes, if they’re duly appointed by God, must yield to his supreme will as set forth in his commandments.  They can no more change one of the Ten Commandments than they can deny the dogma of the Trinity.  And if true popes can’t make such changes, trust me, neither can I.  Don’t bother asking me for a dispensation from any church law because I don’t have the authority to give it.  And certainly don’t bother me with requests for annulments because not even the Church can grant an annulment unless there is firm proof that a marriage was invalid in the first place.  Epikeia doesn’t work with marriage, and any attempt to presume an annulment must be shunned as abhorrent to the Catholic Faith and in grave defiance of her laws.

Let’s remember when dealing with any law, but in particular with a law we might not like, that we must obey it whether we like it or not, so long as it does not work against the salvation of souls.  And while the Pharisees were too strict, some of us have the equally unfortunate habit of not being strict enough.  As usual, the truth lies somewhere in the middle, and as Catholics it is our duty to understand this aspect of our faith and abide by it in all situations where doubt arises as to whether any given law is applicable or not.  In these days where we have no Church authority to whom we can have recourse, it is in fact vital that we avoid both extremes.  Some crazy folks try to be “more Catholic than the Catholics” while others seem to just do whatever they want.  Our duty is to remain calm in these times and follow the ancient practices of the Church as best we can, dispensing ourselves only for the good of souls, including our own.