We live in a transactional world. The order of the day is quid pro quo: “If you want something from me, I expect something in return.” When relationships are shaped by transactions, enduring friendships are not formed. The goal is to get the best deal possible and to move on. When the deal is done, so too is the relationship.
The same can happen in our relationship with God or with the Church. If God doesn’t respond to our requests when and how we think he should, we stop praying. A family, meanwhile, might remain active in the Church only as long as their children are in the parish school or until they receive the sacraments of initiation.
Now, we all understand the need for transactions in life. In business and commerce, deals have to be made every day. When we check out at the supermarket or purchase a car, chances are we won’t have a deeply personal relationship with the cashier or salesperson. We simply look to pay a fair price for what we’re buying.
Deals are not the problem, so long as they are ethical. The problem arises when dealmaking becomes the primary way we relate to one another. When a married couple stays together only for what each can derive from the relationship, the marriage is likely to fail. Should one or both partners become unsatisfied with the results — and they sadly deny each other the joy of mutual, self-giving love — the marriage can come to a bitter end.
Similarly, if a man seeks to be ordained in the hope of honors, glory or power, he may appear content on the surface but will be empty inside. No matter how much “profit” such a member of the clergy may derive from his ministry, he will be depriving himself of its greatest joy — sharing the glory of God’s self-giving love with those he serves.
These are obvious examples. But transactionalism can overtake us subtly. We may find ourselves “playing chess” — always calculating the next move. What drives us onward is getting an advantage over our competitors. In a one-sided pursuit of personal success, we can create an adversarial world for ourselves. We may win more than we lose, but in the end, we still lose. We lose our capacity to enjoy friendship with others and beauty for its own sake. While we’re busy making deals, the world passes us by.
This mentality, in fact, is why some stop going to Mass: “I don’t get anything out of it,” they say. While the liturgy should be celebrated reverently and the preaching should be relevant to people’s lives, the Mass is not a consumer product. At the heart of every Mass is not a transactional exchange but an encounter between God and man.
Without giving and receiving this kind of radical love in our hearts, we remain woefully incomplete human beings. We are not made simply for deals. We are made for love, and our lives make no sense without it.
God made us not because he needed us but because he wanted to love us and to share with us his glory. God redeemed us not because we earned it but because he is merciful. The word of life, the cross and resurrection, the Body and Blood of Christ — these are at the heart of the Mass. We are not buying something but receiving someone who loves us more than we can comprehend.
Without giving and receiving this kind of radical love in our hearts, we remain woefully incomplete human beings. We are not made simply for deals. We are made for love, and our lives make no sense without it.
Blessed Michael McGivney demonstrated this by his priestly love for his people. He continually gave of himself for the Lord and for those he served. The charity, unity and fraternity he exemplified are based not on a transaction but on living for the other. Put simply, “It is in giving that we receive.”
As we prepare to enter into Holy Week and Easter, let us rediscover the utterly beautiful self-giving love of our savior, Jesus Christ. May this encounter shape and form our hearts, now and always.




