Today, in the Gospel, we hear the words: “Non omnis, qui dicit mihi, Dómine, Dómine, intrábit in regnum cœlórum: sed qui facit voluntátem Patris mei, qui in cœlis est, ipse intrábit in regnum cœlórum” (“Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but he who does the will of My Father who is in Heaven.”) These words contain perhaps the clearest explanation of what faith truly is for a Catholic. It is not merely an intellectual conviction or an emotional sentiment, but above all, an assent to the will of the Truth that has revealed Himself to us.
Now, it is common to hear among Protestants that the first step toward salvation is simply to believe in Christ and accept Him as your personal Savior. But what does this really mean?
For the modern individual, to believe often means nothing more than intellectually or emotionally accepting a series of theological propositions —the existence of God, the Incarnation, the Resurrection-. Yet this understanding bears little resemblance to what the Fathers of the Church believed.
For them, and for the first Christians, the act of believing was not a passive state of mind, but rather A COVENANT OF LOYALTY, A TRANSFER OF ALLEGIANCE, AND A COMMUNAL WAY OF LIFE.
To understand this, we must remember that the verb “to believe” in the New Testament translates the Greek word πιστεύω, derived from the noun Πίστις. Although Πίστις is commonly translated as faith or belief, in the Greco-Roman world —and in Latin as “Fides”— it was by no means a merely intellectual or emotional concept. Rather, it denoted trust, loyalty, fidelity, reliability, and a pledge of faithfulness.
We must also remember that the authors of the New Testament read the Greek Scriptures through a Hebrew way of thinking. In the Old Testament, the corresponding Hebrew concept is אֱמוּנָה, which signifies steadfastness, constancy, and fidelity to a covenant. Thus, in the first century, one did not believe in a leader simply by acknowledging mentally that he existed. To believe meant to swear allegiance to him, to submit oneself to his authority, and to live consistently with that oath. Faith was an embodied act, not merely an abstract idea.
The social context in which faith existed was the system of patronage, the very framework upon which Roman society was built. In this system, those of high status provided protection, resources, and favors to those of lower status, who could not obtain such benefits on their own. The unmerited favor bestowed by the patron was called χάρις, translated in the New Testament as grace. In return for this χάρις, the client was expected to respond with Πίστις. And this Πίστις —this faith— consisted of obedience, public service, and the promotion of the patron’s honor before society.
Therefore, when the Sacred Scriptures tell us that we are “saved by faith” they are not presenting a magical formula of intellectual or emotional salvation. Rather, they describe a well-known social covenant of the ancient Mediterranean world. God, through Christ, grants the unmerited favor of inclusion within His covenant. Man responds with faith, and that faith is manifested in a life of public fidelity and submission to God’s law. To believe in Christ is, therefore, to enter into a lifelong covenant of loyalty with Him.
Moreover, faith in Christ functioned as a declaration of profound political consequence, because within the Roman Empire, religion and the State were inseparable. The imperial cult united the various provinces by rendering divine honors to Caesar as the Son of God and Lord, who, in turn, was believed to guarantee the “Pax Romana”.
Within this context, the central Christian confession that “Jesus is the Lord” was inherently subversive. To proclaim that Jesus is the Lord necessarily implied that Caesar was not. Faith in Christ did not consist of adding Jesus to one’s personal pantheon of deities. Rather, it required withdrawing one’s civic and religious allegiance from the structures of Roman power and transferring that loyalty to a man whom the State itself had executed.
Here we see why the Roman Empire did not persecute the first Christians merely because they held different ideas. They were persecuted because their faith —that is, their exclusive loyalty to Christ— led them to refuse participation in civic and military sacrifices, an act that Rome regarded as political treason.
Furthermore, faith was not simply an interior spiritual awakening. In many cases, it demanded abandoning former networks of support, pagan guilds, family structures, inherited traditions, and even one’s cultural environment, in order to embrace the Christian community as one’s new and primary family. It meant sharing material goods, eating at the same table, breaking down the barriers between slave and free, and caring for those who had been cast aside.
If someone claimed to believe intellectually yet refused to participate in the life of the Christian community with charity and fidelity, his faith was regarded as empty.
In conclusion, my dear brethren, faith is to acknowledge God as our one true Patron and Christ as the Mediator. It obliges us to respond to God’s unmerited favor by living lives of faithful service and by honoring the covenant He has established with us. Faith is to enter into a covenant with our God, understanding that nothing in this world can ever be more important than our loyalty to Him.
And, may it be that, if one day the final persecution against Christians is proclaimed, and the enemies of Christ should come knocking at the door of our homes, when they enter, they may find enough evidence to convict us of having faithfully served our God.
