Holiness in the Flesh: The Love That Judges Us

Voice over by Eliz

Lev 19:1-2.11-18, Psalm: 18, Mt 25:31-46

Memorial of Saint Polycarp, Bishop and Martyr

My dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ,

We often speak of holiness as a lofty ideal, a spiritual state reserved for mystics and saints. Yet today, the Word of God pulls holiness down from the clouds and plants it firmly in the soil of our daily interactions. On this Memorial of Saint Polycarp, an early bishop who witnessed to Christ with his very blood, we are taught that holiness is not an abstract concept, but concrete love—and that we will be judged not by our pious feelings, but by our practical mercy.

The Lord speaks to Moses in the Book of Leviticus with a breathtaking command: “Be holy, for I, the Lord, your God, am holy.” This is our universal calling by virtue of our baptism. But how does this holiness look? Immediately, God gives startlingly practical instructions: “You shall not steal. You shall not lie. You shall not swear falsely. You shall not defraud. You shall not curse the deaf or put a stumbling block before the blind.” It reaches its summit in the command that Jesus called the second greatest: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Biblical holiness is relational and ethical. It is about integrity in our speech, justice in our dealings, and active protection of the vulnerable. To be holy is to mirror God’s own just and merciful character in the marketplace, the home, and the community.

This foundational truth finds its ultimate and shocking fulfillment in Christ’s parable of the Last Judgment in Matthew’s Gospel. The King separates the nations as a shepherd separates sheep from goats. The standard of judgment is not doctrinal quizzes or liturgical rigor. It is concrete charity: “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.” Both the righteous and the unrighteous are stunned. “Lord, when did we see you…?” The King’s reply reveals the mystery at the heart of Christian life: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.”

Our holiness, our eternal destiny, is tied to seeing and serving Christ in the person of the poor, the lonely, the sick, and the outcast. God’s command to love our neighbor is revealed as a command to love God Himself, made vulnerable in our midst.

Saint Polycarp, whose memory we celebrate, embodied this seamless love. As Bishop of Smyrna, he shepherded his flock with paternal care. When arrested and ordered to curse Christ to save his life, he replied, “Eighty-six years I have served him, and he has done me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my King who saved me?” His love for Christ, nurtured through decades of prayer and service to his neighbors, culminated in a witness so united to his Lord that he could face the fire with peace. His holiness was made perfect in practical, sacrificial love.

Pope Francis constantly urges this “culture of encounter,” reminding us that “the yardstick we use for others will be the yardstick used for us.” St. Teresa of Calcutta made her life a literal commentary on Matthew 25: “In the poor, we find Jesus in his most distressing disguises.”

This Lent, let us examine our holiness not by how much we have given up, but by how much we have given. Who is the “least brother” Christ has placed in my path? In serving them—with a meal, a visit, a word of encouragement, a stand for justice—we serve Christ Himself. And in that service, we become holy as God is holy. Amen.

May God bless you all!