When Evangelization Begins With Love: Listening to Bishop Scott McCaig
Why real evangelization doesn’t start with strategy—but with receiving and living the love of God first
Listening to Bishop Scott McCaig’s talk, one point kept rising to the top like a bell: evangelization cannot be built on fear, pressure, or mere strategy. Its starting point is far deeper—God’s own love made personal, meant to be received, internalized, and then shared. Only then do “methods” and “mission” make sense, because without that foundation everything becomes either empty ritual or cold manipulation.
Love is the irreplaceable theological foundation
McCaig frames the entire question of evangelization as a theological matter first: What kind of God are we announcing? If God is presented only as almighty majesty to be appeased, then religion inevitably slides into transactional behavior—payments, penances, anxiety, and distance. But if God is truly Father, whose very identity is love, then faith becomes filial: trusting, approaching, returning, and growing.
This emphasis aligns with the Catechism’s insistence that faith in God’s love includes an obligation to respond with sincere love, and that the first commandment calls us to love God above all. In Catholic terms, love is not a sentimental extra; it is the shape of the Christian response to divine charity.
And the Catechism connects that love of God directly to love of neighbor: “Love of neighbor is inseparable from love for God.” So evangelization, at its heart, is not primarily winning arguments—it is drawing people into the same reality of love that orders one’s life toward God and neighbor.
The danger of “religion without love”: Jansenism as a warning
McCaig illustrates his point with the history of Jansenism, a distortion that began with truths about God’s holiness and justice but twisted them into a spiritual atmosphere of dread. The key danger, as he describes it, is that people come to fear God rather than trust him—especially in relation to the sacraments.
The Church’s own condemned errors help clarify why this matters. In a decree condemning Jansenist errors, the Holy Office indicates that Christ’s sacrifice was not restricted in the way the Jansenists effectively implied. For example, one error states that Christ gave himself “not for the elect only, but for all the faithful only.” Another notes that when love is lacking in “great sinners,” faith is lacking as well—“their faith is not divine but human.”
In other words: if love is removed from the picture, even “faith” can be reduced to something smaller than God’s own life. McCaig’s insistence that evangelization must flow from love is not merely motivational; it guards against a profoundly real spiritual error.
“Yes, God is holy”—but God’s holiness is not cold distance
McCaig does not deny God’s transcendence. He speaks of awe and reverence—God’s greatness is real. Yet he insists that majesty does not cancel love. The Catechism describes God’s faithfulness and mercy, revealing that God is “rich in mercy” by giving up his Son, and that Jesus’ saving work manifests divine fidelity even amid human sin.
So the announcement at the center of evangelization is not: “God is terrifying; survive the threat.” The announcement is: God is Father, rich in mercy, drawing people into communion.
Even medieval mystical spirituality, like that attributed to St. Catherine of Siena, portrays the soul’s movement as joy and compassion—grieving for God’s offense and a neighbor’s loss, not obsessing over self. This spiritual “direction” mirrors McCaig’s core claim: love reorients the whole inner life.
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Evangelization is not partial “religious work”; it is the Church’s mission
McCaig also pushes a practical warning: don’t reduce evangelization to a checklist. This matches Pope Paul VI’s insistence that attempts to define evangelization in a partial way risk impoverishing or distorting it. Evangelization includes many elements—proclaiming Christ, preaching, catechesis, conferring baptism and other sacraments—but “any partial and fragmentary definition” is inadequate to evangelization’s full complexity.
So when a diocese talks about mission rather than maintenance, the goal is not simply to “do more things.” It is to ensure those things are permeated by the same reality: God’s love encountered and shared.
From Christendom to mission: the terrain has changed
A major historical thread in McCaig’s talk is that the Church is living in a different era: the broad social environment that once sustained Christian practice is no longer the default. This is why he speaks of transition and adaptation—without changing the gospel itself.
This idea connects well with the Church’s teaching on the “new evangelization.” The key point is that what is “new” is not the content of the gospel, but the Church’s posture and the way she proclaims it in a changing culture. As one study summarizes, Vatican II and subsequent magisterial teaching make clear that evangelization adapts the unchanging gospel to the current cultural climate, and that the new evangelization is “new” in “inner thrust,” “ways that correspond with the power of the Holy Spirit,” and in methods and expression suited to times and situations.
It also cautions against the idea of a one-size-fits-all program: the new evangelization does not mean “a single formula… the same for all circumstances,” but rather renewed ardor, methods, and expression.
What does adaptation look like in the Church’s ordinary life?
McCaig warns against two temptations: retreating into enclaves or surrendering to the culture’s moral relativism. Yet his alternative is not vague optimism; it points to concrete apostolic continuity—preaching, sacramental life, catechesis—done with gospel clarity and pastoral courage.
Here the Council of Trent provides a helpful “continuity anchor.” Trent teaches that bishops have a personal duty to preach the Gospel, or to appoint suitable preachers if impeded. It also states that parish clergy must feed the people with “wholesome words,” teaching what is necessary for salvation, and explaining vices to avoid and virtues to follow.
Trent even emphasizes that sacraments should be explained so people approach them with reverence and devotion. Bishops and parish priests are to explain the efficacy and use of the sacraments and, during mass, explain the sacred oracles and maxims of salvation so these teachings impress hearts and instruct in the law of the Lord.
This is exactly where McCaig’s message meets practical diocesan life: evangelization is not an add-on to parish work; it is how preaching, catechesis, and sacramental ministry become living encounters with the saving love of God.
Conclusion: rally close to the heart of Christ
McCaig’s closing vision—“great and wonderful days,” not gloom—makes sense only if the heart of evangelization is truly intact: God’s love given and received. When that foundation is secure, the Church can adapt methods, re-express the faith, train disciples, and enter the mission field “in the backyard” of everyday life.
But if love is missing, everything else becomes unstable. Fear shrinks the heart; strategy without love turns people into numbers; maintenance replaces mission. The Church’s task remains what it has always been: proclaim Christ, and draw people into a relationship where faith becomes trusting love rather than servile dread.
