Tuesday, May 27, 2025

Seek the Truth, Not to Win! (6th Sunday of Easter, Year C)

 To listen to this homily, click here.

During the Easter season, the Church invites us again and again to recall the life of the early Christian community. Not because that time was perfect or without controversy; in fact we see the opposite is true. But because it has so much to teach us. Today, in our first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, we drop in on a moment of real conflict—an intense dispute that could have split the early Church, which was still in its first stages.

    Sometimes we imagine the early Church as the golden age—those “good old days” when everyone lived in perfect unity, faith was fully alive, miracles were common, and everyone gave up everything to follow Christ. And yes, those days were full of the Spirit: healings, conversions by the thousands, radical generosity. But they were also filled with tension, disagreement, pride, and confusion. The early Christians were gifted, but they were also human—just like us.

    The reading today describes a debate that may seem trivial to us now—things like Jewish cultural practices and dietary laws—but these were deeply important questions in their time. Most early Christians were Jewish. For them, to follow Jesus and keep the Mosaic law felt natural and necessary. But then Gentiles started coming to believe in Jesus. They didn’t follow the Law of Moses. They didn’t eat kosher. They didn’t live a Jewish lifestyle. What were they to do? Should they be required to follow the Law in order to be fully Christian?

    Paul and Barnabas had a clear conviction: no! While Jesus had fulfilled the Law and the Prophets, his Church was also something new, something more that the old practice of Jewish customs. But here’s the critical part—even though they were certain they were right, they didn’t try to solve this question alone. They went to Jerusalem to consult the apostles and elders, including St. Peter. They didn’t bypass the authority that Christ had set up in the Church. They sought the truth, but they did it humbly, through the leadership established by Christ.

    This is such an important lesson for us today. We live in an age of strong opinions, hot takes, instant reactions, and do-it-yourself religion. Disagreements can quickly turn into divisions and condemnations. The desire to be right can quickly turn into a campaign to destroy the other side. Even within the Church, we sometimes see conflict about doctrine, discipline, liturgy, and the moral teachings of our faith.

    But what Paul and Barnabas show us is that seeking the truth is not the same as pushing our own agenda or seeking to be victorious over others. They trusted that the Holy Spirit was working not just through them as missionaries, but through the structure Christ gave us—through Peter and the other apostles which we know as the Magisterium.

    And the apostles, in turn, listened carefully. They discerned together. They prayed. And they gave a decision that preserved the unity of the Church while respecting the truth as it had been brought up by Paul and Barnabas. They didn’t lay heavy burdens on the Gentiles or demand that they become Jewish. But they also asked them to give up certain cultural practices—not because they were sinful, but because they might scandalize their Jewish brothers and sisters. It was a beautiful act of pastoral sensitivity.

    There’s a powerful message in that: just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should. We live in a time where personal rights and freedoms are exalted above all else. But the Christian life calls us to something higher than our rights: it calls us to charity, humility, and unity.

    So what does this mean for us today?

    First: we must desire that God be praised above all else. That was the unifying goal for Peter, Paul, Barnabas, and all the early Christians. “O God, let all the nations praise you!” was not just the psalm today—it was their mission. Is it ours? Do we care more about winning arguments or winning souls? Do we want to be right—or do we want to help others praise God by removing as many obstacles to unity and truth as possible?

    Second: we must seek the truth with humility and obedience. That means reading the Scriptures, yes—but also reading them within the living tradition and teaching of the Church. It means learning, listening, asking questions, and sometimes letting go of our own ideas and preferences to embrace something deeper. It means trusting that the Holy Spirit continues to guide the Church, especially through those given the authority to teach, sanctify, and govern.

This doesn’t mean we never struggle or ask hard questions. But it does mean that when we have disagreements or doubts, we bring them to prayer and seek resolution with a spirit of trust—not rebellion.

    Finally: we must be willing to sacrifice for the good of others. That’s what the early Christians did when they gave up practices that were normal for them. Not because they had to—but because they loved their brothers and sisters enough to do it. Can we do the same? Can we give up harsh words, political posturing, or divisive behaviors—even if we feel justified—in order to build up the Body of Christ? Are we willing to come out of our comfort zones and established routines if it might make it easier for someone else to accept the saving teachings of the gospel?

    May we, like Paul and Barnabas, like Peter and the apostles, be people who seek truth above ego, unity above pride, and the praise of God above all else.