The Quiet Root of Charity
by Dr. John Huynh | October 17, 2025
When we hear the word “charity,” we almost always think of doing: of food drives, donations, or acts of service. Yet, in its deepest meaning, charity is not first something we do; it is something we have. It is primarily a virtue, and secondarily a program.
I don’t think it’s too far off to say that the word “charity” has narrowed. We now speak easily of “works of charity,” but seldom of charity itself. The very phrase “doing charity” reveals this drift from the theological heart. I think St. Paul would remind us to begin again from within. “Let love be sincere,” he writes (Rom 12:9). This is a love that is without hypocrisy; a love that is real, not performative. True charity starts not with outward acts but with a heart conformed to Christ’s.
To further illustrate this, we find St. Paul describing in 1 Corinthians 13 that love is patient and kind, not jealous or boastful. Note that he is not listing actions to perform but dispositions to cultivate; even the most extraordinary sacrifice, without love at its root, gains nothing. Works done without love may still help another person, but they do not change the heart of the one who performs them. They can even become, in Paul’s words, a “noisy gong” (1 Cor. 13:1).
That doesn’t mean we should ever neglect works of mercy. Jesus’ words in Matthew 25 and the letter of James remind us that love must become visible. But Paul insists that authentic action must grow from interior charity, not replace it. As a priest friend once reminded me: benevolence must come before beneficence. Otherwise, what looks like compassion may only be guilt, pride, or self-interest dressed up as generosity.
To love sincerely means to act from the heart of Christ himself. St. Augustine captured this perfectly: “Love and do what you will. If you are silent, be silent for love; if you speak, speak for love; if you correct, correct for love; if you forgive, forgive for love.” When love is the root then every good work is its fruit.
This kind of love is not sentimental; it is steadfast in a culture that prizes comfort and convenience. It remains faithful when love feels costly, and it endures, as St. Paul points out, because it draws its strength from God rather than emotion.
At a time in human existence when efficiency and output are prized above all else, it is tempting to measure love by results. Yet the Christian vision begins elsewhere. God himself is love (1 Jn 4:8), and we are made in his image. To love, then, is to reflect the very nature of the Creator. It is what most truly defines what it means to be human. We can teach machines to think, but not to love; for love requires a heart capable of sacrifice, compassion, and communion. Only hearts fashioned after God’s own heart can heal a world that has grown cold.
Before we do charity, we must have charity. And before we have charity, we must receive it from the One whose love is without hypocrisy.