The Carpenter's hands: A meditation for Lent

The third Sunday in Ordinary Time brought us once again to Matthew’s account of Jesus’ call of the first disciples. When I hear Jesus’ words “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men,” I cannot help but be reminded of the old adage that weighs the relative benefits of giving a man a single fish against teaching him how to catch fish on his own. In the former case, he eats for a day; in the latter he eats for a lifetime.
Aside from the obvious theme of fishing, Matthew’s Gospel and the quaint secular proverb share two additional features in common. The first of these involves the persistence of a lesson fully learned. In teaching his disciples, Jesus did not merely proclaim to them the Good News. Rather, he showed them how to live the Gospel and how to pass it on to others. In this way, Jesus was looking beyond his earthly ministry; beyond the current generation. When he fed the five-thousand, it was with the intention that each successive generation of disciples would feed five thousand more.
The second commonality is a bit more subtle. The decision to teach a hungry man to fish—to teach anyone any skill—makes sense only if one important premise is true: the teacher believes that the student will make good use of the skills he has learned. When Jesus taught his disciples how to be “fishers of men” he did so because he believed that they would indeed follow the path he was laying out for them; because he had faith that his Apostles would carry on his ministry.
Jesus likewise showed his faith in the Apostles when he sent down the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. In good faith, he offered them the Advocate's counsel, wisdom, and strength, but he didn’t require them to accept it. Instead, he permitted his disciples to decide on their own accord whether to accept this most exquisite of gifts. Implicit in allowing them this freedom was Jesus’ faith that they would make the right decision; that they would say “yes” to the Holy Spirit and continue his mission.
But God’s faith extends beyond the twelve: He has faith in us as well. We don’t often think about faith that way. The idea is really quite humbling, and perhaps a bit uncomfortable. God’s love for us is certain and unconditional; we needn’t do anything to deserve it. In fact, there is nothing we can do to make ourselves deserving of it. Faith, on the other hand, is a little different because it introduces an element of responsibility. We must act, lest we risk invalidating the faith that God has placed in us. Nothing we can do will make God stop loving us; but we can disappoint him.
So how does God express his faith in us? As human beings, our Father in Heaven has entrusted us with many wonderful, beautiful gifts, with not the least of these being the capacity to love. Certainly the bestowal of so precious an endowment is accompanied by the faith that we will put it to good use. When asked to identify the greatest of the commandments, Jesus said we should love God above all else and love our neighbors as ourselves. Not only are these commandments that we are expected to keep, they are commandments that God has faith that we will keep. Why else would he condescend to take the form of a slave and spend a human lifetime teaching us how?
In good faith, God gave us the gift of love; and in good faith Jesus taught us how to use it. Accept God’s love, and you will delight in this lifetime. Learn to love as Jesus did, and you will delight in eternal life. Let us reward the divine faith that God has placed in us by living out our faith as he intended.