Redemptive Suffering

The fear of suffering, pain, and death seem like unconquerable mysteries. My time here at CPE has helped me to understand, via experience, that they are not necessarily things that need to be conquered. No amount of faith excludes us from experience pain, loneliness, and death. Money, power, and other earthly things makes these three experiences even worse. With this in mind, I began to wonder if the words of Qoheleth were not as negative as they appear: “Vanity of vanities! All is vanity” (Ecc 1:2). Earthly things will pass which also means these things, both good and bad, will pass. Yet this does not ease the blow of the mystery of suffering and death. Even if they pass away they still remain with us our whole lives.

For me, this mystery is one that is only solved by the Cross. The cross is, for me, the foundation of my theology the ministry I do. The cross is the Incarnational moment where love and suffering meet. Love because “God is love” (1 Jn 4:16b) and suffering because the human condition is deeply affected by sin and death (Gen 3:16ff). Christ took upon himself the entirety of our human condition. While this expressed itself in his person I believe it was brought to completion by his sacrifice. It was only in his death that he was able to “reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace through the blood of his cross” (Col 1:20).

How does this inform my theology? First, if Christ chose to take on all of humanity he also took on pain, loneliness, and death in all completeness. He did not run from them but endured them and experienced them to the full. Thus any ministry inspired by Christ must be a ministry willing to encounter and experience all of the human condition. Secondly, did not Christ through His actions reconcile all things to himself? If this is the case he also reconciled what is lowly and base to our human existence. Thus in ministry encountering what is base, disgusting, and disturbing is an opportunity to encounter Christ in the same capacity as that which is lofty, beautiful, and joyful. There is no discrimination in what Christ assumed in our humanity. He became like us in all things but sin (cf. Heb 4:15).¹

As such, in my mind and in my ministry I attempt to approach a Catholic theology of suffering. The primary way is the Catholic view of suffering or, more specifically, redemptive suffering. What do I mean by redemptive suffering? Only this: that our suffering when united to Christ shares in his mission of salvation. How is this so? Christ is married to the Church as his spouse and the “two [have] become one flesh” (Gen 2:24). Moreover “no man hates his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, as Christ does the Church, because we are members of his body” (Eph 5:29-30, cf. Eph 5). We are by virtue of our baptism joined to Christ and the Church. We are joined to the body of Christ such that we are one with him. “This is a great mystery” (Eph 5:32). Yet Scripture proclaims that as Saul persecuted the "disciples of the Way" Christ himself said, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? … I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting” (Acts 9:4, 5). Lastly, Paul himself says, “I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete² what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the Church” (Col 1:24).

Christ entrusted his disciples with his Spirit to carry out his mission of salvation to the whole world and to all ages. The Church was established as his bride and He himself is the head of the body. We are extensions of his body. We share in the sufferings of those to whom we minister (and we ourselves also suffer). Christ identifies with us, especially with those who suffer (cf. Mt 25:40), should we not also identify with Him in turn? Christ assumed humanity so as to redeem it, thus with confidence I say he also redeemed suffering. The suffering we experience can be joined to Christ who even after the Resurrection complained to Saul that He himself was being persecuted. Christ's suffering continues in His Body, the Church, because we live in a world redeemed but not yet saved.³ We too, in joining our sufferings to Christ, suffer for the sake of His Body (cf. Col 1:24). And indeed “he did this once for all when he offered himself” (Heb 7:27b). Thus we too “must present ourselves as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God” (Rom 12:1). This means that the suffering I experience in myself and others can be effective in Christ's saving work for the one who suffers (and even myself). When I share in the suffering of another I attempt to share in the suffering of both Christ and the individual.

1“For we have not a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sinning.”

2In Greek the verb “antanapleiro” also has the sense of “filling up” or “making full.”

3For while this present age is passing away (1 Cor 7:31) it is still in the process of doing so. We await the “glory to be revealed in us” (Rom 8:18).

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In a special way keep Grace Oliver, 23, in your prayers as she battles cancer in the face of a very difficult diagnosis. While my words may express a cognative struggle with this issue, my words are shadows compared her words in the face of suffering and death. Please pray for her and please read what she has to write: Grace Oliver and Dumb Cancer

My Desire for Marriage

(Note: I've made some major revisions to this piece, mostly attempting to add clarity to my message and fixing up some diction. ~M, 3/15/2014)

As I approach ordination to the Diaconate after 12 years in the seminary it's easy to think about the many “what ifs” in my life. Things such as career, money, jobs, a wife, children, and even a permanent home are things I've given up in pursuit of this call. A call, however, is both something desirable and undesirable. When it comes to vocations I call to mind that “when you were young, you fastened your own belt and walked where you would; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will fasten your belt for you and carry you where you do not wish to go” (Jn 21:18). Any walk of life requires sacrifice and any vocation, in my view, goes against the grain of our desires.

While the Apostle Matthew was called, “rose and followed him” (Mt 9:9), this is not true of all followers. Calls demand a response, not necessarily a wholehearted desire for the content of that call. Peter himself said, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord” (Lk 5:8). Isaiah lamented, “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lip in the midst of a people of unclean lips” (Is 6:5a). Jeremiah complained, “Ah, Lord God! Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth!” (Jer 1:6). All types of people are represented in Scripture. The overwhelming majority are those who aren't too keen to do what God has asked of them—it's not bad to see ourselves in them.

As Matthew's expression illustrates, "How could you choose me?"

The Lord responds to our response. “Do not be afraid” (Lk 5:10). “Whom shall I send?” (Is 6:8). “To all to whom I send you you shall go, and whatever I command you to speak I shall speak” (Jer 1:7). The formula of God's call is uniform: He reassures us and says, “Do I send whom I have not chosen?” (cf., Is 42:1). This is true because “it was not you who chose me, but I who chose you” (Jn 15:16). Then he tells us rather bluntly, “You will do as I command” (cf., Dt 12:32). We must confront the reality that life is not what I want but what God wants in His time and in His way. Prayer sharpens our hearing, but it is time, grace, and the Church that makes us desire His will as if it were our own.

The call is, for some, a process of constant humiliation, disappointment, frustration, and difficulties. Yet, “Await God's patience, cling to him to do not depart, that you may be wise in all your ways. Accept whatever is brought upon you, and endure it in sorrow; in changes that humble you be patient. For gold and silver are tested in the fire, and acceptable men in the furnace of humiliation” (Sir 2:3-5).

I know what awaits me from others moving forward: disrespect, hatred, dismissive attitudes, and many other things. I know that in my own heart there is a fear of timidness, complacency, and apathy. Yet God has cared for me with those who love me. He has cared for my heart by giving me peace, courage, faith, and hope. I've come to find that all things in me are good but not fulfilled. No one can fulfill himself and love is never fulfilled except from outside of myself. This is His gift to me: the love of God and neighbor is my own fulfillment.

Having given up everything to follow Him I approach a new chapter in my life: sacrificing personal desire for the sake of those sheep whom Christ said to feed and shepherd. I will soon experience this call and experience it with the people of God, and there are many trials and many blessings herein.

As I prayed about these things in my heart I called to mind the couples that I will marry. I called to mind that they too are called and respond as all men do to God's call. I thought of my friends with children and the unique opportunity that having children offers in your life, but I also considered the many trials they will experience. In a life that is, by necessity, “focused on the things of this world” (cf. 1 Cor 7:33-34). What hope is there for a married couple and, I thought, what could I say to them to take the concrete experiences of their life and see God?

This, then, is my desire for marriage: that couples reflect on the fact that their relationship truly reflects the Divine Life and to keep this close to their heart throughout their own trials.

Only parents can experience God as a parent. Reflect that God calls us sons and daughters, too. A child comes forth in pain, crying, but it is met with love. The child is needy, depriving sleep from one's eyes and peace from one's mind, yet it is loved because it is life and the “fruit of my body” (cf., Dt 28:4). Throughout his or her life, their suffering is your suffering, their anxieties are your anxieties, and their joy is your joy. When they are sick you heal them. When they are scared they run to you. When they are arrogant they turn from you. When they are bad they anger you. When they are away they sadden you. Through it all these emotions are intensified because of the love with which you first loved them.

Your spouse, the one whom you love, was a co-creator and cooperator in your own love. You share life and you share hardships, even if each one bears it unevenly. Your love changes you and it is completed by being received and then returned. This too is the life of grace. This is a life of faith in as concrete a manner as one can experience it. This is the God of the Old Testament and New in as intimate, reasonable, and accessible way as one can approach it.

Any child becomes a sign of God's covenant with His people. Know that your feelings for your child are merely a fraction of what God feels for you. Yet despite your child's suffering that result from his wickedness, from misfortune, or persecution your love for him remains undaunted. If a mother or father's love can endure evil and even death, how much more does God's love endure through our sins and the sins of of the world!

Jesus promises that “his burden is easy” and his yoke light (Mt 11:30). Life has shown us that it is not easy. “Much labor was created for every man, and a heavy yoke is upon the sons of Adam” (Sir 40:1). Christ said this, however, because not only is this life of imitating God possible, it is peace for the soul. For “when a woman is in labor, she has pain because her hour has come; but when she is delivered of the child, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a child is born into the world” (Jn 16:21). This is love God shows to those who return to Him, love and peace we all have access to.

Life for both of us, ordained or married, is a unique call from the others. It is indeed a life of responsibility unlike any other. This is a gift given to us, even if it doesn't always seem good or desirable. All life is a gift, no matter the type, since we are all pilgrims on one path—may our feet not stray! We have all been called.

His response is simple: Be not afraid, follow me.

Let it happen to me according to your word.

Apologetics Online (Discussion)

Doing my best "Paul in the Greek Forum" routine, I went to a forum of a website I do apologetic work at and simply told people that if they'd like to inquire about my Catholic faith to ask away.

I'd like to share with you a few exchanges. Feel free to correct me if I've made a mistake, add your own thoughts, or  share any similar experiences.

Note: My responses are in normal text, their questions will be in italics.

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I have several questions for you, as a Protestant Christian.

1. Why do you pray to the saints as opposed to praying directly to God? What makes the saints "special?"

Prayer to the saints is expressed in the form of seeking their intercession, such as "St. Maximilian, help me overcome my addiction to alcohol." While the syntax makes it seems like Benedict is doing the work, the meaning of the common phrase is "St. Maximilian Kolbe, patron of sufferers/addicts, pray to our Lord Jesus on my behalf that, through his grace, I may overcome this addiction and stay dedicated to the means necessary to fight it."

We faithful, even in life, look to examples of holy men and women not just to emulate them but to ask them to help us know God and grow closer to Him. Prayer to Jesus Christ, the High Priest, is always good. The problem is that we in our sinful state can't even see the depth and depravity of our sin and, as such, we fail to ask for what we really need. We rightly seek the help of others in our life. For example: we seek a doctor to diagnose our symptoms (e.g., fever, soreness in certain areas) are he finds that we have an infection, so he prescribes the proper medicine. A holy man or woman, learned in Scriptures and the soul, is able to find the root of our sin and ask Christ to send the appropriate cure.

Some may say, "But Christ knows what we need." He does know, but He also wants us to know and understand. How did he help His people know and understand His word that he preached? Through the prophets who proclaimed His word. Through judges, kings, and scribes who parsed out and educated others about the Law. Through the Apostles charged with preaching the Gospel. God, Jesus, used men as His messengers. The Apostles also would inform Jesus of the plight of His followers. Of course Jesus knew, but He encouraged and sought that His disciples had an awareness of this.

The saints in heaven were Jesus' faithful servants on earth. They, having received the fullness of His promise (life forever with Him) carry out His work with Him. The saints, in a sense, assist us as being both personal friend and spiritual icon by which we can more clearly see Christ and the conduit through which we can receive His grace more effectively. Scripture tells again and again the powers holy ones can achieve through their prayer. We sinners, though our prayers are true, may not be powerful. When we pray we seek, in some fashion, the power of God--this can come through consolation, correction, and many other ways. We are asking the saints, as followers asked John the Baptist, "who is the one who will save us?" We saw that John preached alongside Jesus for a short while, and he preformed powerful deeds. But all in service of pointing us to Christ, especially when we don't know how to do it ourselves.

Saints have been given a special power in the Spirit to guide others to Christ.

2. Is it true that you have to be baptized as an integral part of your salvation?

This is tough on a number of levels. If you believe in Christ, yes. Baptism in the foundation of eternal life, the waters by which we die to death and are born to eternal life. It's forming a covenant, one that cannot be undone but, like a covenant, can be broken.

3. Why are there extra books in the Catholic Bible as opposed to Protestant Bibles? (Like Maccabees.)

Many ways to go about this. One reason is to observe why those books were taken out of the Christian canon in the 15th and 16th centuries.

Many Protestants point to the Jewish Council (of Jerusalem? I think) where the Jews banned books like Maccabeus and Sirach because they were written in Greek.

Some other sources claim that those written after the cutoff, which is Ezra and Nehemiah (post-exilic), were too new to be accepted. The basis for this wasn't founded on any understanding of revelation and was, some argue, done simply for the purity of the language. Luther argued the same way for Sirach and Maccabeus, but we've found Hebrew manuscripts of Sirach and Maccabeus I. Is the late authorship a problem? Then then New testament poses a problem since it is a continuation of revelation in between which Sirach, Maccabeus, and the others were written.

Some claim, "Shouldn't the Jews decide what their canon is?" Yes, but we should also be scrupulous about how the canon came to be--which requires a lot of research.

There were actually numerous canons proposed by Jerusalem, Alexandria, and diaspora communities. The same goes for the New Testament.

The NT actually stopped the period Scripture could be added at about 115AD (I think), since John the Apostle died in 105/8 AD. Revelation ended with the Apostles, those directly taught by Christ, who is the Revealer and ultimate Revelation in one. Many of the "new Gospels" like Thomas, Peter, Judas were written after the death of the Apostles, often in the 140-180AD period, where the name of the Apostles were being invoked in order to grant legitimacy to their Scripture. This was debunked by a combination of cross-referencing Scripture with many Gnostic-infused claims in those new Gospels and an appeal (first) to the Tradition of the communities founded by the Apostles that didn't preach what these Gospels said. Historical they may be, but they were deemed to be not Inspired.

Maccabeus and Sirach, on the other hand, came from the community of the faithful and were recognized as such by many of the faithful. They were in line with what many believed. It should be noted that the Sadduces, I believe, established that canon that excluded those OT books. They also denied the resurrection, angels, and demons, all of which Christ affirmed.

Christ is also shown when he quotes various OT passages to prefer the Greek (Septuagint) and Scriptures of the Qumran tradition, their canon is what Christians adopted, which did in fact have the books that remain canonical in the Catholic Bible.

4. Why do we need the Pope as a head of authority?

The Pope is the Bishop of Rome, the diocese of the great Apostles and Martyrs Peter and Paul and a host of martyrs. The Pope's role is not one of "master" but of pastor, just as Jesus established the Apostles as shepherds alongside him. This is how the Apostles formed communities. They had the authority to teach and preach. All are charged to preach the good news, but is whatever they teach right and in accord with the whole of the faithful.

The pope is not there to be a dictator, but to govern the people, seek council from other pastors, and to speak with the spirit of authority handed down through Peter when matters of faith and morals are in a difficult dispute. He seeks council in these times but in the end there must be a voice that speaks, like Peter at Jerusalem, of a final say.

5. What is the point of purgatory and how does it fit into the scheme of eternity?

Purgatory, as its name implies, is a place of purgation and purification. Souls who are faithful to Christ in their life, yet remained mired by (venial) sins need to be cleansed of their sins. This "state of being" is a period by which a soul readies his heart to receive Christ. Since they could not do it through the blood of martyrdom or through an exemplary life of charity purgatory allows those souls who are all the same faithful to do a sort of penance to prepare themselves for heaven.

One more, from a different person.

How do you (personally) experience/sense God? I know the answer to that will be in multiple ways, but maybe the most striking one, or the most common one.

I personally experience God in prayer, doing penance before the Father, seeking the intercession of the Son, seeking inspiration by the Spirit. I experience Him physically in the reception of the Eucharist, praying as I process that God have mercy on me, a sinner, praying that "though the reception of your Body and Blood, fill up in me what is lacking in my own flesh and spirit."

I try to listen for God in whispers, not in loud clashes. In the quiet moments among friends, in the peace of walking outside, in bed while I was suffering when sick with nothing around me but darkness. I experience God after I sin because I know its our relationship I harmed and I experience Him in the joy and consolation people find in their children, spouses, and friends.

I experienced Him, although my experiences are limited, in the death of my grandparents--that He is loving and merciful and that a life lived according to His word is worthwhile and beautiful. Living with Him gives dignity even to the scandal of death.

I've experienced Him powerfully and personally only twice--and I mean in those earth-shattering ways. Other times I've found Him reaching for me when I've fallen low and I remind myself constantly to thank Him while things are well.

He answers my prayers. He gives and He takes away.

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So, what are your thoughts? My answer on baptism was brief. It's one thing to parse out quotes and citations when organizing a text, but it's another thing trying to communicate one-on-one or in public. Do you find these answers to be effective, wrong, or a little of both?

I'd enjoy discussing it with you.

M

The Problem with the New Evangelization

God bless the effort of the New Evangelization. It encapsulates, I think, what many of us faithful Catholics have desired to see (more) publicly for years. Even in my youth I always wondered how so many faithful Catholics relied on their opinion as opposed to integrating the words of the Church, words I found as very beautiful. This is, of course, a reflection in my adult years on my youth. Here's what it may look like:

"Mom, we learned at school today ..."
She replies, "That's great, honey!"
"What do you think?"
"That's good, I just think a little bit differently."
"Why?"
She then proceeds to explain that her experience or ideas tell her that things are different.

It teaches kids that personal experience trumps teaching--an ironic parenting technique. Kids grow up and learn many good things but then there's the real world. Sex is a reality, contraception is a safe reality, etc., etc. They grow up, they use what they've been taught that's useful and the rest is their best judgment.

"And the beat goes on...."

There's always room for experience in life. Experience teaches us and forms us. Experience, however, and our experiences, are not principles of action. Experience tests the limits of principle. They help us gather data in order to form principles or see patterns at work.

If one says, "In my experience no one ever listens to you if you use the Bible" is an experience stated as if it were a principle. One who says, however, "With Protestants I've found Scripture is effective but with atheists and agnostics reasoning and philosophy are more profitable." This is experience that indicates a certain prudence. Prudence is a virtue and a sort of principle (Always act prudently) and experience helps us see what that looks like.

I. Witness

This digression aside, I am happy Catholics are coming out in droves to defend the Church, to be public with their faith, to yearn for clarity and understanding, to confront evil in society, to desire God through prayer, to (gasp!) read Scripture, and to dedicate their intellects for the search of a truth greater than all of us as opposed to opinions which are less than themselves. This is a good thing. Lord, give success to the work of our hands!

My concern, however, is that we progress like soldiers to a battlefield as opposed to progressing like lemmings toward a cliff.

What do I mean? The word for witness is "martyr." Being a witness to the faith is being a visible sign of Christ's saving love to the world. Witness is public, it's living in such a manner that what you believe is evident from your life. In many cases this is a powerful tool for conversion: one learns in the most concrete way, that is by example, that the faith is livable and it can make you happy (regardless of your state in life). This is evangelization in its simplest form, right? I'm not inclined to think so.

In my view witness attracts and evangelization holds onto. No amount of well-crafted, balanced words will make someone Christian. Only God can produce that sort of effect in our lives and only He can penetrate our stony and prideful hearts. Witnessing to the faith reveals God to the world. It shows those who look on, those who are doubtful, that God is active in the world and personally in our lives. Recall from the Gospel of Mark that Jesus is declared the Son of God by a man only when He dies on the cross.

"Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last. The veil of the sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom. When the centurion who stood facing him saw how he breathed his last he said, “Truly this man was the Son of God!" (Mk 15:37-39)

Truly Jesus Christ was the perfect witness, the perfect martyr. The cross symbolizes many things: sacrifice, love, and rejection. It symbolizes much more. The cross stands as a strange image. It draws people to it, whether by disgust or hatred for it, for sorrow of it, or admiration of it. That's the life we're called to lead: a life that is a witness to the cross. "But may I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world" (Gal 6:14).

II. Evangelization 

Evangelization, however is different. Perhaps an image will illustrate what words cannot. Christian life is a fire. Witness is the light of that fire but evangelization is the warmth. We are drawn to a fire by its light yet we are compelled to stay by its warmth.

Evangelization contains with in it catechesis, apologetics, preaching, among other things. Various people have certain gifts given to them by the Spirit: some are able to teach and defend the faith while others are able to effectively convey the Gospel message. The USCCB has defined for us the goal of the New Evangelization:

In a special way, the New Evangelization is focused on 're-proposing' the Gospel to those who have experienced a crisis of faith. ... Pope Benedict XVI called for the re-proposing of the Gospel "to those regions awaiting the first evangelization and to those regions where the roots of Christianity are deep but who have experienced a serious crisis of faith due to secularization."

So many of us label our work, our millions of blog posts, and our efforts as "evangelization." This is simply not the case. There is always room for us to relay an experience of strength-in-crisis given to us graciously by Christ. There is room for us to lament insufficient theology, culture, or some offense, but it is not evangelization.

If we are to truly evangelize this culture we cannot simply propose a perspective or practice apologetics (i.e., defend the faith from attacks). We must proclaim the Gospel, that is proclaim the positive claims and truths of revelation, Scripture, and Tradition. If you want to evangelize you must study these things (studying history, science, philosophy, popular culture, etc. doesn't hurt either).


We would all do well to remember that "the wisdom of what a person says is in direct proportion to his progress in learning the holy scriptures--and I am not speaking of intensive reading or memorization, but real understanding and investigation of their meaning" (Augustine, On Christian Teaching, IV.para 7).

Likewise, "Eloquent speakers give pleasure, wise ones salvation" (Idem.)

Nothing will inflame our hearts quite like the Word. 
Not just in reading and memorizing, but penetrating, praying, and understanding.

Evangelization requires prayer, study, and reflection. It also demands a certain training in rhetorical arts, such as clarity of conveyance, force of images, and knowledge of what will speak to the listener.

So many of us, myself included, feel that we further the cause of evangelization by saying nice words about our experiences of grace and prayer. But this only serves as a light in the darkness. Without a serious commitment to Scripture we give a light without warmth.

The New Evangelization is, as many have pointed out, not new in its message. Rather, the "newness" of it all is perhaps best described as a new 'zeal' for the labor so badly needed.

So those who are attempting to try something new my recommendation would be: look to Scripture, look to prayer, and that beauty which is ever ancient, ever new. Thereafter look to Tradition, the Fathers, and the Church. In all this, being an active member of the Church is all the more important: support your local church, your priest, and make yourself a public witness there for our charge is to not only draw new souls to Christ but strengthen those whose spirit fails within them.

Continue to shine the light of Christ to the world by your witness and do not cover it with anything. But in order that they might say, Were not our hearts burning within us while he spoke to us? (cf. Lk 24:32) it is necessary that we begin with Moses and all the prophets, interpreting them what refers to Him in all the Scriptures (24:27).

We can do this in many ways. How you decide to do so is your task. Do not draw anyone to the light but leave them cold.

Our love will keep others close but those who struggle are not looking for us and we are not anyone's fulfillment. Rather we are like John the Baptist, a voice crying out in a world that denies truth and embraces the self.

  

Rather, the Law of the Lord is their joy (Ps 1:2a) and O God, you are my God--for you I long! For you my body yearns; for you my soul thirsts, like a parched land, lifeless, and without water (Ps 63:2). Give them this. Do not show them that it exists, but say to them as John did, "Behold the Lamb of God" and do it in such a way that those who listen hear what you say and follow Jesus (Jn 1:36-37). Only then will our joy be complete (3:29-30).

The Voice of God

Sometimes when I reflect on Scripture I only consider the words before me. I examine their origin, their context, their meaning, and their hidden meanings. In no way do I discourage this as there is a great deal of wisdom and fruit that comes from these things.

Other times I consider myself, the individual who hears these words. I, a student who is in the midst of this semester, who is experiencing beautiful fall weather, and who contemplates a life in service to God and others, hear the words of Scripture in a way unique to myself.

Some live in tropical climates, others live in frigid lands, some live in places at war, while others still live in prosperity. His voice reaches all the ends of the earth. It's incredible to think that I, in this place, with this or that disposition, and at this time, am hearing God's word as He intended me to hear it.

The Gospel is not just the words that are written but the words that are heard. "I am not ashamed of the gospel: it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith" (Rom 1:16). "Stephen, full of grace and power, did great wonders and signs among the people. ... [His detractors] could not withstand the wisdom and the Spirit with which he spoke" (Acts 6:8, 10). A word, spoken in the Spirit and heard in the Spirit, produces in us a profound effect. We rightly reverence those words deemed necessary on revelation, but do we not also reverence those in whom we witness the Spirit? For we should reverence God wherever He is, not only on the page but among us and in the world too.

Likewise, God speaks one message, but we hear it in many ways. All the same, God asks us to respond in the same way: with love, all while praising His glorious name. Jesus emerges from the desert saying, "Repent! and believe in the gospel!" One voice demanding one response.

This one response happens in many ways. The one who suffers from lust must respond with chastity while the one suffering from pride must respond with humility. The one who despairs must respond with hope and the one who is angry must respond with patience. Often I find that all of us suffer from numerous things: pride, lust, despair, and anger. The cross seems to heavy to bear, and the response seems as if it would strain our voice.

At this time it would seem necessary to first take an inventory of our sins, our emotions, and our thoughts. It is not enough to say "I am tempted so I must be chaste." Rather, upon reviewing ourselves we say, "I am unchaste when I give into my anger." One may pluck the fruit of sin only to have it regrow. Finding the root is the surer means of conquering sin. The root, if deep, requires great effort and persistence to pull. That you are pulling at that root is a cause for thanksgiving. "Hermas, stop saying all these prayers for your sins. Ask also for righteousness, so that you may take part of it to your family" (Shepherd of Hermas, 9:6). Praying for forgiveness, while good, also makes us focus on ourselves. Praying for righteousness and strength allows us to share it with others.

Listen to His voice. When you decide where His voice is or isn't you have already hardened your heart. Did not King David find God's voice in the dissenting servant of his enemies house? Zeru'iah said to him, "Why should this dead dog curse my lord the king? Let me go over and take off his head." David replied, "What have I to do with you, you sons of Zeru'iah? If he is cursing because the Lord has said to him, 'Curse David,' who then shall say, 'Why have you done so?" (2 Sam 16:9, 10) (cf. 2 Sam 16).

So too must it be with us. Do not say, "The Lord is only with this man" or "The Lord in only in Scripture" for you are then a liar and a deceiver. Do not say, "The Lord only speaks good things to me" for many of God's servants were treated severely before they were glorified. Furthermore do not say, "I should have never been born," for "before I formed you in the womb I knew you" (Jer 1:5) and "all the hairs of your head are numbered" (Mt 10:30).

God is speaking to every one but He is also speaking to you in the manner He sees fit. "My son, if you receive my words and treasure up my commandments with you, making your ear attentive to wisdom and inclining your heart to understanding ... then you will understand righteousness and justice and equity, every good path; for wisdom will come into your heart, and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul" (Prv 2:2, 9-10).

The Experience of Translating

Foreign languages, I realize, are not for everyone. Many can go throughout their whole lives content to read Scripture in their native language. I certainly don't blame them for doing so. Translating Scripture can be like portaging through a swamp—a mire of depth, interpretation, and meaning. That being said, the ability to translate things such as Scripture offers valuable insight into the meaning and difficulty of the text that we take for granted. 

When the language is not our own (e.g., Latin or Greek) it forces one to scrutinize the grammar and the vocabulary and it forces one to reflect on the meaning of the text. Below, I'd like to share not only the experience of translating but also show how anyone, even those who just read English, can get more out of parables and texts that they thought were boring or easy.

I've been doing both ancient and koine [Biblical] Greek for some time. In no way would I consider myself a master of that language. For me, a master would look like some of my professors who can just look at the text, identify it, read it as if it were English, explain it, and teach it. Can I get there in 10 years? 30? I don't know. As it stands, I remain a beginner after almost 7 years. Learning the basics of a language and grammar are different than playing with the language, seeing how the language is used by various authors, and learning from context how certain words should be translated.

In order to translate well, in my opinion, the translator must do a few things: first, he must translate such that he puts the author in his [the translator's] own words, i.e., “Do I understand what I said, and do I understand what he said?” Secondly, the translator must write in such a way that his audience understands, both the author and the author in his transplanted language.

When I translate my goal is not never assume an idea is in the text—it tends to be more fun and accurate when what you expect out of the text is in now way what the text looks like. The words should be allowed to speak for themselves first, especially in Scripture. When the text is before us, however, we inevitably ask ourselves “What does this say?” and “Does it mean what I think it means?”

When interpreting and translating one might say, 'Jesus saved us from our sins and by his blood we are redeemed. Any work I do cannot aid me in my salvation. He died once for all, so when Paul talks about faith he must mean “you are saved by faith.” Moreover he means that we are saved by “faith alone.”'

No other way to look at it, right?

More complicated versions of this way of thinking can produce even more interesting thoughts and reasons for translating something this way or that. Catholics, Protestants, classicists, etc. can all enter in with some very grand ideas about how various phrases are supposed to look.

In the quote I offer below you can see how the same passage may be taken to mean something completely different. I've underlined sections where there is some significant difference, and made bold specific terms.

An example from Ephesians 1:3-6

King James Version

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ: According as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before him in love: Having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he hath made us accepted in the beloved.

New International Version

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves.

My Translation

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who blesses us in every spiritual blessing in the heavens in Christ, just as He chose us in Him from the beginning of creation to be holy and blameless before Him in Love, setting us apart for sonship through Jesus Christ in Him, according to His benevolent will, in praise of His glorious kindness which He freely bestowed on us in Him whom He loved.

Now I'll admit that even I made some mistakes along the way, and these other two translations corrected me. I had written the last phrase “whom He loved” originally as “in love” because I had simply forgotten to translate the participle. This little experience then caused me to reflect: the translators of other Bibles, typically, know their grammar and are careful. How, then, could such drastic differences emerge in translation?

The only key to understand such phenomena is “tradition,” both in the common and sacred sense.

When I translate which dictionary do I use? Oxford's Liddell and Scott or Walter Bauer's Lexicon—typically time period would tell me when, most of the time. Am I using the 1^st, 2^nd, or 3^rd edition? Am I using something else? We as intermediate translators are subject to the texts we use, much like many students of many disciplines are at the mercy of the Encyclopedia they happen to trust.

What do you mean encyclopedias and dictionaries can contain errors or prejudice?

Then there's the matter of who taught you how to translate. Was he a strict grammarian or was he interested in making a readable translation? In all these things, “predestined,” as used by these two translations on Ephesians, is not evident from the text itself, but rather it is an interpretation on the text.

The Greek, in many cases, is a simple phrase or a mixture of concrete images that, over the course of time, became proper and specific terms. How does one determine what these simple terms mean? The truth is that it can only come out of a tradition that lives the faith, struggles with the content of revelation, and then tries their best to pass it on to the next along with all their wisdom and experience.

The tricky part becomes “Which tradition do I follow?” For many Protestants, this doesn't enter their theological reasoning, let alone their historical one (though, sadly, this is true for far too many Catholics). Tradition requires as much investigation and scrutiny as Scripture does.

Tradition is seen by some as only a “man-made” thing and never a thing concerning God. For man, God comes to replace human ingenuity, human thought, and human actions. God either “covers up” our humanity or “puts it aside.”

The Catholic Church teaches from her sacred Tradition that God has always been interested and involved in mankind, existing in human history, never more strongly than when He sent His only Son to live among us. God, for us, “lifts up our humanity” and transforms it by grace, thus restoring our human nature to be as God intended.

The act of translating, and sometimes disagreeing on what the passage means, is not human folly. One word may carry with it a variety of meanings. One phrase may carry with it a variety of effects. Those who are attentive to God's will and who are humble will still hear the same passage differently. Is this wrong, a fault of the listener, or a fault of the text? God gives to each of us what we need. “Give us this day our daily bread” (Mt 6:11). For one his bread is a consolation and for the other a reproof.

The Word of God is not only text, but a voice that permeates all dispositions, lives, cultures, and ages. Translating allows the words to speak more clearly, or less so, depending on what God intends. Indeed “you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to infants” (Mt 11:25).

The first principle of reading or translating Scripture, friends, is humility at the greatness that stands before you. Never be content to read Scripture once or understand it in only one way. “I sought wisdom openly in my prayer … I inclined my ear a little and received her, and I found for myself much instruction. … My heart was stirred to seek her, therefore I have gained a good possession. The Lord gave me a tongue as my reward, and I will praise Him with it” (Sir 51:13, 16, 21-22).

One Voice: Concrete Catholicism

One of the many things I've appreciated about Catholicism as I've grown up is how it concretizes Scripture. For some this may seem like a strange thing. With respect to atheists I believe in a “bronze-age myth” and the only value Scripture seems to have for most of them are some bland platitudes or fuel for a fire. Protestants, on the other hand, are fairly adamant that we are unbiblical hypocrites, whores of a man-made Babylon.

Being cousins in animosity they seem to not only hate what we believe but also how we live our faith. It turns out that many things they hate are what cause the most wonder in me. I'm not talking about their caricatures such as worshiping Mary, being blind adherents to medieval ideologies, or anything like that.

Catholicism embodies “I by my works will show you my faith” (James 2:18b). I'll offer a few examples that struck me as particularly inspiring:

One day at mass, with some 300 people present, we were all singing. 300 voices united as one voice—not for some rally, not for the new drm-free PS4, and not at some concert—but every voice singing in order to praise God. 

Video game conferences: the new Megachurches

In this particular Church, built to receive such praise, the sound rose up and when we paused you could still hear that one voice continuing. The same was true when we responded: “and with your spirit” and “Our Father, who art in heaven....”

(but video games, such as Civilization IV, can also give us some great music, such as Baba Yetu, the "Our Father" in Swahili)

My voice was indistinguishable from all those present. Indeed, “May the God of steadfastness and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another … that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rm 15:6). It's one thing to read it. It's altogether different to experience it.

(another example, in a different style)

Secondly, at my candidacy mass we were using incense, another thing that isn't just a distraction, but a reflection of Scripture. The time to incense the altar had passed. The cardinal, the other bishops present, and the priests lined in unity behind the altar of God. The one who held the thurible knelt before the altar. As I looked on the altar, the sanctuary, and the priests were covered in the slightest haze. “May my prayer stand as incense before you” (Ps 141:2).

From the floor to the ceiling everything was covered very slightly with a cloud of incense. Again, it was not only my prayers but the prayers of all of us present rising to heaven.

“And the Lord descended in the cloud” (Ex 34:5). All the same it was symbolic and concrete of God's presence among us, in our gathering and in the Eucharist.

The incense served a dual purpose: the joining of ourselves to God—our prayers rose and he descended.

These are just two things that struck me. Many other things, such as praying the Psalms daily, teaching, and the like bring Scripture alive. Service to the poor, the sick, and so forth are still far superior ways to understand what Catholicism really is. There are others who have dedicated their lives to service whereas my life has been more one of study. They certainly deserve more praise for their silent, word-less work than myself.

That being said, in mass both our voices, when united in purpose and heart, are one voice, the voice of the Church.

I, like so many today, grew up thinking of mass as something you go to and something you sit through. It's this passive way of thinking that drains the mass of meaning and destroys unity in the Church. The mass is not a theater where one is entertained. One goes to mass to give. Some can give money to further the ministry of the Church. Those who cannot give money give their prayers to those who suffer. Those who come give their time to God because it says, “God, you're worth my time.”

Church and mass is not so much a place to receive as is it to give. All the same we receive the consolations of community and the graces of prayer. The mass is something you give to the world and to God. The prayers that God desires from us and the prayers the world so sorely needs. Do not deprive yourself or the world prayer.

A Hebrew Rabbi wrote in the Midrash tradition (Rabbinic commentaries on Scripture) this: “Fear not, O worm of Jacob, O men of Israel' [Is 41:14]. Just as the worm can smite the tree only with its mouth, so Israel's only [weapon] is its mouth. That is: Israel's only weapon is prayer.”

Obedience Restores Creation

Adam and Eve

“In the beginning God created heavens and the earth. … God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light” (Gen 1:1, 3). God spoke and it was made. There was no resistance, no struggle. All of creation was obedient to His word.

“Let us make man in our image, after our likeness; … So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created them. Male and female he created them” (1:26, 27). Man is created in the image of God—man is a reflection of the divine image. Man, like all things, came to be without struggle. His intelligence reflected divine intelligence, his power the divine power, and his love divine love.

Man sinned; he did not obey God. He saw what was forbidden him as “a delight to the eyes” (3:6). The woman took the fruit without struggle, the man did too. “You cannot serve God and mammon” (Mt 6:24b). They obeyed desire without resistance. Both man and woman transgressed God's will—the first struggle in creation. While man was given Eden so he might “till it and keep it” (2:15), his labor was without resistance. The first struggle was disobedience.

God then questioned, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten of the tree which I commanded you not to eat?” (3:11). Man struggled further. He blamed the woman. She blamed the serpent. There was no acceptance of guilt, no self-accusations, no obedience. But God did not destroy when He punished them. They remained intact. God did not deform them—they remained a reflection of His image.

Man, however, would now reflect his disobedience in his life as well. His work would now reflect the struggle of disobedience. The soil would resist his will. Even his own body would resist his will. Work that was once necessary now became necessary and difficult. This was to teach man what sin is by analogy—the resistance of the world to us is a reflection of our resistance to God.

God did not destroy man: an act of love. God promised us a savior and salvation from disobedience: a second act of love. Thirdly, God clothed man and woman. He did not send them out in shame, but clothed them. Nakedness became shameful to them, since sin is a source of shame. They carried with them the guilt of their sin, but they were not exposed to shame by God. They were allowed to toil in confidence that their hard work would produce fruit and they were to enjoy the fruit of their labor without being exposed to shame. “Above all hold unfailingly to your love for one another, since love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Pet 4:8).

God showed how one's love for another covers the sin of another. God promised that love not only protects one from shame but restores creation to its original state. “Neither do I condemn you; go, and do not sin again” (Jn 8:11). Love compels one to forgive, it restores the other, and it demands reciprocity—obedience—to be complete. God has given us this. To love is to obey. To obey is to carry out God's work. To carry out God's work is to share in the fruit of that work, now and forever. We have hope in all of these things through Jesus Christ.

Jesus and Mary

How? Jesus' life began by the simple “yes” of a virgin. God sent His angel to her, bearing His Word. Her “yes” was perfect obedience. There was no struggle—creation as it originally was. Christ came into this world through the cooperation of a woman with God. “Do two walk together, unless the have made an appointment? … Surely God does nothing without revealing his secret to his servants the prophets” (Amos 3:3, 7). “Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38). Mary is the servant, the God-bearer, and the obedient one. She is the new Eve because through Eve, “mother of all living” (Gen 3:20), disobedience entered creation. Through the new Eve obedience brought forth the savior. She became by her obedience to His will the “mother of all living” in the Spirit. God sought a humble woman to walk with Him, to bear the fruit of trust, love, and obedience and share in the glory of His Son's mission.

Her "yes" brought us the savior. It brought her joy and great suffering. It won her an incomparable crown since only Christ mother could suffer with her son in a unique way.

Why should the savior, God, be born of a woman? Through Jesus God came to share in humanity, through Mary man came to share in divinity through Christ. God effected the change, but He sought out man to share in His work.

Man was created in the image of God. Jesus is the perfect image of the Father. Jesus humbled Himself to be obedient to the Father. He took on flesh—He obeyed His flesh and His flesh obeyed His will.

Christ brought about salvation through obedience, and His obedience was to live as creation was meant to be. Unlike Adam, Jesus was born into a world mired in sin and death. He became like us in all things but sin. His servants, however, protected him, raised him, loved him, and worked with him. His servants Mary, Joseph, John the Baptist, Zechariah, Elizabeth, Simeon, and Anna. His Apostles too worked alongside Him, instruments of His will yet also willing participants in His saving work.

It is Jesus who saves us, because Jesus is the God-man. Jesus showed us simultaneously the wages of sin and the path to salvation.

Creation was brought about without struggle. Jesus was like “a sheep led to slaughter … he opens not his mouth” (Is 53:7). Did creation talk back to its Creator? Yet here the Word did not talk back to men, motivated by anger, pride, envy, and fear—attendants of sin—but was obedient to their will. Christ so subjected himself to the will of sinful men that he accepted death, death on a cross.

His means of death was a sort of obedience, as he was dependent on everything else but himself. He hung there, helpless.

Man through sin distorted creation, as sin is opposed to God. Jesus placed the yoke of sin upon himself. He seemed as if he were less than any man because “his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance” (Is 52: 14). Yet through the Father he was exalted and lifted up (52:13).

He suffered humiliation, torment, ridicule, pain, and death which are all the wages of sin. He did this and died. Sin forces all men into slavery. But Jesus “partook of [our] nature, that through death he might destroy him who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong bondage” (Heb 2:14-15).

He showed us that sin has the power to enslave us but not the power to destroy. God, sending His graces upon us, stretches out His hand to meet ours. We reach out and the gift is ours. We withhold our hand and we do not accept the gift.

If God did not destroy man because of his disobedience, imagine how He glorifies us through our obedience. His son, obedient to death was raised and glorified. He promises the same to us.

We are in the midst of a struggle. Those who seek life struggle against sin and are hated by the sinful. Those who hate God are already among those who appear living but are dead. Those who pursue sin seek destruction, yet even that will not be fully given to them.

To lose one's life is to gain it—this is obedience. Obedience means to be as God intends you to be. It requires sacrifice and it requires love.

“Be sober, be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same experience of suffering is required of your brotherhood throughout the world” (1 Pet 5:8-9).

Christ has given us the Church, men who are “over you in the Lord” (1 Thes 5:13) to be a living voice of correction, a way of life, the inspiration of Scripture, the guidance of sacred Tradition, and the Spirit in every age to aid our discernment.

Denying any one of them outright is not from God, but disobedience and sin resisting God's will. God is merciful, and he bids us to show mercy. God has given us creation in order to worship Him. In denying what has been given to us, our fathers and mothers in history included, is to walk the wayward path. Those who desire control of themselves, disdaining correction, will be given over “to their stubborn hearts” (Ps 81:12). “The Lord preserves the simple” (Ps 116:6).

Tradition before Scripture

I'm beginning to believe more and more that it will be impossible to convince someone who believes in sola Scriptura that it's wrong. Not only do I find it to be wrong, but it's simply something that's illogical from our experience of the ordinary.

"What makes it illogical?" some may ask, "After all, doesn't Jesus defy logic and doesn't the ordinary fall away with the presence of the divine?"

I would answer, simply, "No."

The incarnation of our Lord is evidence enough that the ordinary does not fall away in the presence of the divine. The ordinary is mixed together, indistinguishably, from the divine. "Mixture" is an approximation of this reality, mind you.

The burning bush that stood before Moses "and behold, the bush was burning, but it was not consumed" (Ex 3:2). Resplendent with God's power, the bush did not pass away. The Eucharist is another such example. By the power of the Spirit through the one priesthood of Jesus, common bread and wine are transformed. These things become the sacramental presence of Jesus Christ, but the properties of bread and wine do not pass away. Indeed, "thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

"By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity" (Order of the Mass, s.24).; another link

In our own lives God encounters us more through the ordinary than through the "extra-ordinary." Certainly some experience the special grace of visions, prophecies, and the like. But even these men and women would be called ungrateful if they didn't recognize the many signs, blessings, and messages they receive through the ordinary.

God speaks to us through prayer, the inquiry of a child, a sight that strikes us for no particular reason, or an insight while doing something mundane.

Anyone in their right mind, believing in God and Scripture, recognizes that God is not limited by time or space. All the same it's evident that God Himself acts in time and space because He desires to relate to us and to be with us. The message of the Old Testament is that God does not abandon his people. He is with them, guiding them throughout history with His own hand, visible to those willing to look.


Returning, then, to my original notion: How does this relate to Tradition, let alone the thought that Tradition precedes Scripture? How is belief in "Scripture alone" contradictory to the experience of faith and common experience?

In order to help with this notion, I feel an analogy will be helpful. This came to me while praying this morning.

Scripture is something permanent and fixed, yet it is also something that the reader experiences in a variety of ways. In this manner, Scripture is a lot like a photo. A photo is something that captures a moment so everyone can see what the photographer wanted them to see. Say that the photo was taken at a party, but someone who wasn't there looks at it. He may be able to deduce from certain things in the photo that it was, in fact, a party. On the other hand, he may get it completely wrong.

Tradition is something lived, something fluid, but also a continuation of what came before. Tradition is like an event worth being photographed. The people at the event recognize it as special in some way and wish to remember it. These same people look at the photo and recognize instantly its significance. Those who weren't there learn all the back-stories, nuances, jokes, etc. from those who were there.

Without Tradition there would be no Scripture. Scripture helps us to remember, Tradition helps us to understand. Both are from the Spirit, because the opportunity for both is a gift.

Tradition is not merely the mundane or something that we hold onto because we're afraid. Tradition, properly speaking, is something we cherish because those whom we love cherished it.

In regards to God, Tradition is not a source of fond memories, it's continuing the work that was begun long ago. The wedding photo from 50 years ago reminds a couple of where they began and how far they've come. The graduation photo reminds her of her accomplishments and how much more she wants to accomplish.

This picture is a major event in my past, but could you identify by just looking at it what it was, or what significance it had for me?

Scripture is something special, but it would not exist if the faithful, gathered in one place, thought it would not be profitable and useful to their children and their children's children. The prophets or others recorded their words so future generations would recognize their fulfillment. The Apostles and their communities recorded their words to keep safe the teaching that Christ had given them.

In all these cases, their words would be incomprehensible without a line of teachers, believers who loved what was given to them and who understood their significance from the source. Indeed, many false teachers can arise in the name of God. Many speak eloquently with Scripture and reason. Only those who know Scripture and the Tradition from which it came can argue validly against them.

The Spirit, Scripture, and Tradition all protect against pride, but Tradition protects against the pride of personal enlightenment.

With Scripture alone, we have photos from long ago that mean what we want them to mean. Without Tradition, the Bible becomes my bible.

"We are the Church," she said....

I was giving a talk at my home parish on the early Church (part I-1) when a woman came up to me. Pointing at her heart she indicated that we, the people, are the Church. I couldn't deny her sincerity, nor do I think her intentions were wrong.

I come across this sentiment from time to time. I recall when I was in Washington DC, helping with catechesis, a particular follow-up meeting for the newly ordained. The deacon of this parish was brought in to explain a few things. My 20-year-old self was a bit appalled by his teaching. He was saying, "You don't have to genuflect to the tabernacle. Most people don't even know what that means. If you're going to bow or reverence anything it should be the people because without them there is no Church."

I interjected, "We genuflect because the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ is housed there and we reverence His Holy presence."

He continued by saying something along the lines of 'but isn't God in each of us?'

I was happy when a number of newly baptized spoke up, many of them young to middle aged (28-45) saying "the purpose of going to mass, most of all, is the Eucharist" and "if no one knows why we genuflect why aren't we teaching them?"

In one part I was sad that these men and women, newly formed in Christ and possessing the fervor of a new convert, were met immediately and in their own home with divisive error, stubbornness, and borderline heresy. Nevertheless, I think it shows that no matter how close to home we are we have to be on guard from error.

Perhaps this deacon had lived through a time where the faithful did not respect each other. Perhaps he had some vision of Church that he couldn't let go. Whatever the reason his message was "We are the Church, we should not reverence the Eucharist but each other."


Fast forwarding to the present day: I wish I had this insight 5 years ago. All the same it came to my mind now and so I share it in hopes that it helps you, the reader.

I told her, more or less, that "We are certainly the Church. We were baptized and we as human beings can receive God's grace. We were also given a mission and entrusted to carry it out.

"You'll recall, however, that in the Old Testament God himself called the people of Israel together. In this sense the people were Israel. But God didn't stop there, did He? He formed a covenant with His people. He gave them priests, prophets, kings, laws, and a host of other things. People as people weren't Israel alone, it was the people committed to a certain way of life and a certain structure. This is how they were properly called children of God."


Afterward, this morning in fact, I reflected on what I had said. Perhaps these words would have helped:

Peter, in Scripture, tells us "like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ" (1 Pet 2:5).

In this sense we are the Church, but only so much as the stones of a church are the church. For you see, without a plan to build that church the stones remain scattered, disorganized, and contribute little to nothing. Likewise, if the building didn't have a purpose those stones would have never been gathered in the first place.

Each man living according to what he thought was right.

A church has structure. It has rules, it has order, and it has reason behind it. Likewise a church has a purpose. It gathers people to one spot for worship, for praise, for atonement, and it gathers them to be closer to God.

A church is not a church without its plan, without its purpose, or without its materials (or its people). The Church herself is God's gift to us. It's a structure that we inherit and it's a body that we're incorporated into. As living members of that Body we are indeed important and special. But we can only exercise our mission, our specialness, and our faith within that Church. The purpose of building a church is not to look at it from afar and comment, "It's a very nice building."

A church is built to be prayed in, loved in, and to worship God. Living apart from God's plan makes us as useful as a stone in a field. Living according to the structure and purpose of the Church glorifies God and stands tall with all others with us as a physical sign for all to see.

We are the Church, but only when we consciously choose to humble ourselves, making ourselves fit together like stones meant for building.

Those who claim that faith is only a personal relationship with Jesus are like stones that wish to remain stones. Peter, I believe, uses the image of "living stones" in a very particular way. A stone is something essential to a solid building, but a stone does not "build," rather it is something "built with." A stone submits itself to the builder. Paul himself said, "According to the commission of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid the foundation, and another man [my successor] is building upon it" (1 Cor 3:10).

A stone that does not submit itself to the builder is a stone that's cast away or one that's in need of work. Paul, leader to his people, says, "We are God's fellow workers; you are God's field, God's building" (3:9). And even if one builds with Christ as his foundation it does not mean that his building will stand. When we entrust ourselves with building we may end in ruin. When we submit ourselves to wise builders we endure.

Some men are good builders but they adopt a plan apart from generations of planners. Some men, like Luther for example, forsook the Tradition of his fathers. Rather, because he saw many stones were weak he decided that the plan for the Church was at fault and not the stones or the builders. Well, he blamed the builders but he also eventually blamed the plan.

The integrity of a structure like the Church depends first on its foundation, but it depends on more thereafter, if we're to believe 1 Corinthians chapter 3. The integrity of the Church requires humility from her members so that, like stones, that may make a temple pleasing to the Lord.

Reaction to Pope Francis on Redemption, Salvation

Seeing all these posts about Pope Francis' comments on redemption, and then the follow-up posts/reporting from various sources (atheist, Christian, Catholic, etc.), some thoughts came to mind:


A) I enjoy quotes like, "For a brief moment there it was possible to imagine a brave new world of compassion, generosity and acceptance, not qualities we have come to associate with the Holy See" (IrishCentral) wherein when the Church says things I like, they are good. When they say things I don't like, 'they're so misguided/stupid/bigoted/etc.'

This article's view on infallibility is also telling of what they understand of Catholicism. How far this daughter of the Church has fallen.


B) It seems like all Christians have been made afraid to consider hell, or in other cases we ourselves don't even want to consider it.


C) People consider themselves 'good,' and then I wonder by what standard they judge themselves. Not killing, not murdering, generally not being an asshole? I recall when I was a boy and did something I was told. I asked for a reward afterward and the Sister told me, "You don't get a reward for doing what you're supposed to do."

'But I thought,' some may say, 'being a good person is what really matters?'

I don't disagree, but then again there's a difference between a meal that satisfies hunger and is soon forgotten and a meal that is "good," don't you think? There are many who do good when it suits them, no matter who, and so can we say that satisfying 'good' is a merit to that person?


D) Many reflect on the truths of redemption and salvation with little mind for the whole picture surrounding them. On the one hand, "A tree is known by its fruit" would suggest that one is judged according to his deeds. In fact, "God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil" (Ecc 12:13). Furthermore, "Behold, I am coming soon, bringing my recompense, to repay every one for what he has done" (Rev 22:12).

This would seem to me that all men, regardless of creed (even those with only a human creed) are judged according to their deeds. The man of faith who sins is subject to a hotter fire than the non-believer. Those who believe ought to be wary since it says, "Do not say "His mercy is great, he will forgive the multitude of my sins," for both mercy and wrath are with him, and his anger rests on sinners" (Sir 5:6). All men, regardless of what they believe, are sinners in need of prayer--myself included: "remember, we all deserve punishment" (8:5).

Those who live according to the natural law live according to God, no matter who believes. Grace is with nature and grace "builds upon nature." All have grace by virtue of being, all do not respond to grace and thus grow in it.


On the other hand, what then is the purpose of faith, the role of faith? Unbelief is for those who believe and do not believe. What do I mean?

Those who believe and yet do not believe for it says of them "an evil, unbelieving heart, [leads] you away from the living God" (Heb 3:12) and that "For we share in Christ, if only we hold our first confidence firm to the end, while it is said "Today when you heard his voice, do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion" ... to whom did he swear that they should never enter his rest, but those who were disobedient?" (3:14-15, 18).

For those who do not believe it is not only pride on their part. In many cases it is wickedness on our part. Have we been quick to anger? Quick to ridicule? Quick to hate? Then you and I have made the narrow gate narrower and we have not been dutiful watchmen.

Even those who do not believe must humble themselves before God eventually. If they do not practice humility and obedience in this life, they should consider the hope they have for the next. Indeed, "the affliction of the proud has no healing" (Sir 3:28). The same can be said of those who believe.

Those who are good according to their estimation of what is good, or are good at their convenience are sometimes good out of pride, which means their works are good, not them. Doing good requires sacrifice, loss of self, and both humility and obedience to do that good in the face of opposition.

All the same, we may do something that has all these elements, how do we know it's good?


E) Pray for all mankind, for all have been purchased by the Blood of Christ. No one lives according to the sacrifice made for us if those who share most fully don't do it.

The Early Church II-2: The Lapsed and the Problem of the Martyrs

If you haven't read section 1 you may find it here:

II-1: The Martyrs
II-3: Bishops and Succession
II-4: The Rule of Faith
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The 'Martyrdom of Polycarp' is a powerful example of how Christians regarded martyrs and the practices that surrounded those who were martyred. We'll recall what was said of blessed Polycarp:

“Of the elect the most wonderful Polycarp was certainly one—an apostolic and prophetic teacher in our times, and a bishop of the Catholic Church at Smyrna” (sec. 16).

How, then, could problems arise from such courageous and promising examples of our faith? Justin Martyr said of martyrdom, “He who denies anything [of our Catholic faith], either denies it because he has condemned it, or shrinks from confessing it, because he knows himself to be unworthy of and alien to it; neither of which is that of a true Christian” (2^nd Apology, sec. 2).

Herein lies our problem: it was the case that many on account of fear, coercion, and violence fled from the Church, fled from persecution, or renounced the faith. These men and women became known as the “lapsed” for they did not proclaim Christ in times of trial. When persecutions died down they, on account of love of Christ sought to return but were in many places rejected. You can understand the zeal of those who stood before the flames of persecution: they and their loved ones died and were disfigured for the One they loved. Those who were scattered, some out of cowardice, sought to share in the same Eucharist again.

Martyrdom is difficult to witness and accept in all ages. Not all are prepared at this moment to accept Christ's life even unto death. Some were and became glorious examples as a result. Here is one depiction of the martyrdom of Paul Miki and companions, Japan 1597.

There were many disputes, as a result, of what to do. Some admitted these 'lapsed Catholics' back into the Church, but only after a lengthy period of penitence which included fasting, intense prayer, moral scrutinies, and being kept from the Eucharist for a period of time, sometimes 7 years or until they were on their deathbed. Others, harsher still, said that all men have only one chance—to deny Christ is to permanently cast one out from His presence.

Those who had witnessed many cruel martyrdoms were intolerant with those who wished to return. Bishops and believers in many churches held such a stance because of (1) the high esteem they held the martyrs in and (2) the lesson of the martyrs was that it was better to choose death than life. Those who ran, they believed, chose 'life' and thus forfeited it.

The zeal of the martyrs was well-founded, but the devil—ever the deceiver—seeks to use even our zeal and courage to cause division. The martyrs and their followers wanted to protect the Church from those who would perhaps again apostatize and give the others into slavery and death. A martyr, it should be stated, does not seek death but rather accepts it when it comes to him. Of of the great phrases describing saints and martyrs in found in Revelations: “Love of life did not deter them from death” (Rev 12:1). Those who were confessors, ones who survived torture, could be strict in regards to the lapsed. It was backed by the scars, dismemberment, and disfigurement they wore. Likewise, many sought them for spiritual courage and advice.

Satan does not deceive us by revealing what is evil, he uses our love of what is good and turns it against us. C.S. Lewis' Screwtape Letters is a good allegory/reflection of that.
"Satan Exulting Over Eve" by William Blake, c. 1795.

The bishops, some sympathetic and others not, had to decide how to deal with these Catholics who had fallen away. Cyprian, in his work “On the Unity of the Church,” claimed that those martyred outside the Church had no merit and that even confessors could be subject to error and sin. While his words, to numerous to write here, may seem harsh his message is a sound one: even those of us who have proven ourselves courageous in faith and steadfast in truth are subject to error. Zeal for the faith is a trust in what that faith teaches, but there are times when that trust becomes not a trust in faith but a trust in ourselves.

An additional lesson is that experience is valuable, but not infallible. Those who are experts in patience are not necessarily experts in teaching patience through their words. God has given certain gifts to each of us, but we must be on guard that this gift does not become a source of pride. Likewise, each gift must be attended by humility and obedience. Bishops and priests had been given the gift, that is the grace, of leadership and governance. It does not mean they are without error, but it does mean that division is the direct result of those who outright deny the priest or bishop. Priests and bishops are, in turn, accountable to those whom they serve as well as the counsel and concord of their brother presbyters and the whole Church.

We should, however, look with sympathy upon the martyrs just as we look with understanding upon those who fled. The decision of the pope (Stephen at this time, 256 AD) was that the Lapsed were to be readmitted as penitents in the Church.

One thing, among many, was made clear: In this period the Church had “to deal with the all-too-human phenomenon of failure” (Sommer 248). Even the lapsed felt guilt and shame for their former renunciations. The order of the bishops—many bishops disagreed and dissented all the same—was that they be readmitted, albeit slowly. It's possible that they took their cue from the Apostles who scattered when Christ was struck down. Peter himself denied Christ three times and afterward wept bitterly. His sorrow, and his restoration by Christ, in turn made him a powerful advocate for the faith. This was the hope of the bishops and others who sought reconciliation: that the Lapsed might become even stronger in their faith by means of forgiveness, penance, and instruction—we can see the seeds of the sacrament of confession arise from this situation.

It was through forgiveness that Peter was restored to Christ and it was because of this Peter was prepared to give his entire person to Christ. An important lesson for us when we fail, and especially when others fail.

We see that God works in all things, that even the zeal of the martyrs and scandal (for some) of the Lapsed produced a conflict that would force the Church and her leaders to consider more carefully the extent and character of her forgiveness and unity. Truly, it reaffirms that God uses all of our affections and triumphs to draw us closer to him, despite the trials we and every generation must undergo.

We have observed that “there arose no little dissension and debate” (Acts 15:3) on the issues mentioned above. Dissension arose among the lay faithful, priests, and bishops alike. People's lives and souls were at stake, but at the same time the Church emphasized proper teaching and took her faith seriously. How did the Church address such problems? Moreover, how did the Church maintain unity of churches and thought? It all stems from our notion of “Tradition” (mentioned in part I) which comes from Apostolic succession. What developed in response to this and many other conflicts was the “Rule of Truth,” which we'll explore in the next section.