We live in a world obsessed with the "minimum viable product." We want the fastest results for the least amount of effort. In our legal systems, we ask, "What is the bare minimum I must do to stay out of trouble?" In our health, we ask, "What is the least amount of exercise I can do to stay fit?" Even in our spiritual lives, we are often tempted to treat God like a cosmic accountant, asking, "What is the minimum requirement to get into heaven? Which rules do I absolutely have to follow?"
But today, Jesus stands on the mountainside and shatters the "minimum requirement" mentality. He looks at us and says something radical: "Unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven." To his listeners, this was shocking. The Pharisees were the Olympic athletes of rule-following. How could anyone do more than them?
Jesus isn't asking for more rules; He is asking for more of our hearts. He is moving us from a religion of external compliance to a relationship of internal transformation.
The readings today present us with the profound gift of human freedom and the weight of moral responsibility. In the first reading from Sirach, we are reminded that God has set before us "fire and water," "life and death." The choice is ours. God does not force us to love Him, for forced love is not love at all. However, Sirach makes it clear: to choose the commandments is to choose life.
This theme of choosing life reaches its crescendo in the Gospel of Matthew. Jesus begins by clarifying His mission: "I have come not to abolish the law... but to fulfill it." In the ancient world, to "fulfill" something meant to bring it to its intended completion, to reveal its deepest meaning. Jesus takes the Ten Commandments—the foundation of the moral life—and peels back the layers to reveal the heart of the Father.
He uses a series of "antitheses": “You have heard that it was said... but I say to you.” First, He speaks of murder. The Law said, "Do not kill." Most of us feel pretty good about our progress on that one. But Jesus goes deeper. He says that if you harbor anger, if you insult your brother, if you call someone a "fool," you have already violated the spirit of the commandment. Why? Because murder begins in the heart. The physical act of violence is merely the final fruit of a seed of resentment that was allowed to grow unchecked. Jesus is telling us that it is not enough to keep our hands clean if our hearts are full of malice.
Second, He speaks of adultery. Again, the Law forbade the act. But Jesus points to the "adultery of the eye"—the lustful gaze that reduces another human being, a child of God, to an object for self-gratification. He uses hyperbolic language—tearing out eyes and cutting off hands—to emphasize the radical seriousness of sin. He isn't calling for self-mutilation; He is calling for the "circumcision of the heart," the cutting away of anything that prevents us from seeing others with the dignity they deserve.
Finally, He speaks of oaths. In Jesus’ time, people used elaborate oaths to prove they were telling the truth, often using "legal loopholes" to avoid being bound by their word. Jesus calls for a radical integrity: "Let your 'Yes' mean 'Yes,' and your 'No' mean 'No.'" A follower of Christ should be so rooted in the truth that an oath is unnecessary.
This is the "wisdom" St. Paul speaks of in our second reading—a wisdom "not of this age," but a mysterious, hidden wisdom revealed by the Spirit. It is the wisdom that recognizes that the Law of God is not a fence to keep us in, but a map to lead us toward the fullness of love. The "righteousness that surpasses" is not about doing more things; it is about doing things with more love. It is the movement from "I have to" to "I want to."
The Gate of Forgiveness
So, how do we live this out? How do we move beyond the minimum?
Interestingly, this Sunday marks a unique moment in the liturgical calendar. While we in the Roman Rite are in the Sixth Sunday of Ordinary Time, our brothers and sisters in the Eastern Rites—the Byzantine Catholic and Orthodox Churches—observe today as Forgiveness Sunday (also known as Cheesefare Sunday). It is the final day before they begin the Great Lent. On this day, they participate in a beautiful "Rite of Forgiveness," where every member of the community asks for and receives forgiveness from one another.
This Eastern tradition perfectly encapsulates the "surpassing righteousness" Jesus demands in today’s Gospel. Remember what Jesus said: "If you bring your gift to the altar, and there recall that your brother has anything against you... go first and be reconciled."
Jesus is making a startling claim: Your relationship with God is inextricably linked to your relationship with your neighbor. You cannot truly offer a gift to the Father while you are strangling His other children with your resentment.
This week, I challenge you to three specific actions:
- Examine the Root, Not Just the Fruit: Don't just look at your "big" sins. Look at the anger you’ve "managed" but haven't let go of. Look at the "small" judgments you make about people in traffic or on social media. Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal the seeds of "Raca" or "Fool" in your heart and ask for the grace to weed them out.
- Practice the "Yes" of Integrity: In a world of "fake news" and broken promises, be a person whose word is gold. This week, be hyper-aware of your speech. Avoid the white lies that make life "easier" and the exaggerations that make you look better. Let your "Yes" mean "Yes."
- The Forgiveness Sunday Challenge: In the spirit of our Eastern brothers and sisters, identify one person this week toward whom you are holding a grudge, or one person you have offended. Do not wait for them to come to you. Jesus says, "Go first." Whether it is a text, a phone call, or a conversation after Mass, seek reconciliation.
The wisdom of the world tells us to hold onto our rights, to nurse our grievances, and to do just enough to get by. But the wisdom of God, revealed in Christ, tells us that the way to life is the way of the Cross—the way of radical, overflowing, "surpassing" love.
As we approach the altar today, let us not bring just our "minimum requirements." Let us bring our whole hearts, purified by forgiveness, and ready to choose the "water and life" that God so generously sets before us. Amen.
