Against those who Call Religious Art Idolatry and Blasphemy

Often times Catholics are called pagans and idol worshipers for depicting Christ, expressing him in religious art, and expressing him in statues. This is true in depicting the saints, angels, and the like.

I find these arguments very strange. The most commonly cited “proof” is from Ex 20:4 and similar passages: “Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth” (KJV).

This is certainly true, especially when considering that the Israelites fashioned for themselves a golden calf and, in various ages, many other idols of Cannanite, Babylonian, and Assyrian gods. In these times God was without image. From Genesis and throughout the Old Testament God is not described as having proportions or form but rather as expansive, immense, and beyond comparison. Images, or more specifically similes and metaphors, were used to describe the power, love, and greatness of God, but no images were fashioned.

At a time when images were routinely fashioned in order to depict one's gods, it makes sense that God would forbid such a practice to move people away from regarding wood, stone, and gold as an actual deity.

Moreover John the Apostle attests that “no one has ever seen God” (1 John 4:12 RSV). So why, then, do Catholics portray Christ as well as God the Father and God the Spirit?

There are logical proofs for such actions and dispositions, but they are logical proofs grounded in Scripture and the reality they portray.

It begins with the reality of Christ himself: that he is the Word and that he is God. This Word is the “image of the invisible God” (Col 1:15) and he “reflects the glory of God and bears the very stamp of his nature” (Heb 1:3). Similarly this all-powerful and glorious Word “became flesh and dwelt among us” (Jn 1:14). Thus God who was in former times had revealed himself in shadows and imperfect things, such as the prophets and the Law, now revealed himself in his perfect Son. The source of light is not seen in darkness, and we are all blind. But Jesus Christ, who gives sight to the blind, is “the light of the world” (Jn 8:12). We not only beheld him with our eyes but, as John said, we have also “looked upon [him] and touched [him] with our hands” (1 John 1:1).

Such art gives an example of an actual Biblical text and, more importantly, the New Testament relates the actual life of Jesus, even if Scripture can not simply be reduced to a historical text.

Jesus was truly God and truly man, something to which Scripture and faith attest. Jesus is in the Father and the Father is in Jesus (cf., Jn 17:21). All who believe in Jesus Christ have come to believe because they have heard about him from those who believe and who were sent out just as Jesus had been (cf. Jn 17:18). Similarly, the power of Jesus is described, just as the power of God had been described as of old, but now the power of God is expressed in image and flesh. This is how John the Baptist could say “Behold, the Lamb of God!” (Jn 1:29) and how Stephen could say “Behold, I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God” (Acts 7:56).

Catholics depict Christ because he was seen both in his earthly flesh as well as his heavenly glory, both in Christ crucified and in Christ risen. Paul proclaims and preaches “Christ crucified” (1 Cor 1:23) and John looked upon the power and image of Christ the King in the book of Revelations. Thus not only was God seen but he was described. While, for example, his resplendence in heaven is described in metaphor and prophetic language the person of Christ is described as being who he is: a man who was humbled and humiliated on earth but now rules both heaven and earth in the fullness of power.

Thus, because we proclaim Christ and his life which was real, which was seen and touched, and which revealed the fullness of God and his plans. The Father has truly “made known to us in all wisdom and insight the mystery of his will” (Eph 1:9) through Christ Jesus, and the light Jesus provides is his life as model, truth, and guide.

As such, when Catholics express Christ in stained-glass, in a crucifix, and in various media, it is because we are expressing the truth that Christ, in his very reality and image, reveals God to us. It was once blasphemous to portray God with graven images since no one had ever seen God and God had not yet revealed himself to the nations. Similarly it was contrary to the law to eat certain foods until Christ had made them clean. Yet in these last days God has revealed himself by his only-begotten Son and his Son showed us the way we should go in power and in truth.

The images we fashion of Christ, of the Spirit (as dove and fire), and the Father (similar to the Son) are expressions of the reality of Christ. In the eastern traditions of Catholicism and in among some of our Orthodox brethren only Christ is portrayed as a theological point that the Spirit and Father are both never seen or described, but that the image of Christ is also the image of the other two. I think the iconography of the east also has powerful and rich meanings behind it. Catholics too express the reality of God revealed through their art. Calling it blasphemous and idolatry is not only ignorant but foolish in light of the Gospel.

Christ the All-powerful (Pantokrator)

Private Values and a Public Faith (Part I)

Do Religious Values have any Place in the Public Square?

The general consensus among those of faith and without seem to be “no.” Religion is a personal preference and conviction. Personal convictions, while good for me based on various experiences and reasons, are not grounds for me to impose these convictions and others. I believe in God because (a) I was brought up to believe, (b) it gives me comfort, and (c) it makes me a better person. But someone else may have experienced religion in negative circumstances. Likewise a non-believer may not share feelings and values of religious pronouncements on reproduction, family, and (deeper still) premises that inform public action and (politically-speaking) policy.

A non-Christian, non-religious, non-believer also builds convictions derived from his experiences and holds onto them for various reasons. They too may have been brought up to hold certain values that give them comfort and in turn, according to those values, make them “better.” I use quotes for “better” insofar as anyone, when he lives according to values, wants to live up to those values he considers as good. No one, or more accurately, very few of us ever embody fully the values we hold dear—but the more we live our lives according to these values we consider ourselves “better off,” perhaps because we can decide on things more confidently or can discern and solve problems more efficiently.

None of us can escape our upbringing and no one is ever truly free to choose his own experiences. While we are active agents in our lives we are also passive—things happen to us whether we like it or not. We are just as informed by what we do out of choice and by what we experience with no say in the matter. We as humans, however, have a unique ability to reflect on our experiences. More uniquely, since other animals also have memory and learn from experience, human beings have the capacity to reflect on their values and culture. This is not only consistent with ancient wisdom but also modern science.

Man, by applying his reason to himself, may reject what he has been given in a nearly-complete way. Moreover some may even claim that we are unique among the animals insofar as we know how we came to be and that we are also aware of how we are wired (this imagery is by no means exhaustive). Because we “know” we may also reject our wiring in some ways—the example Dawkins uses is that we “rebel against our genes” when we contracept, i.e., that we actively deny the 'desire' of our genes to be replicated through propagation.

Thus both ancient sources, e.g., philosophy or theology, and modern sciences have agreed throughout the ages that man is unique. He is not unique according to his flesh, since his flesh and composition is not too different from other mammals. Perhaps one might say that his brain as an organ is the most impressive according to its construction and capacity. Man is unique according to his reason—formulated in antiquity as possessing a “rational soul”—because by his reason he can even master himself.

While our knowledge, scientifically-speaking, is still expanding on the subject of human cognition we can see that we form connections, both socially (e.g., mother and child) and intellectually (i.e., neural connections), in a way not dissimilar from other creatures. All but a few can recognize, however, that we are capable of understanding how we work and, by our own efforts, direct ourselves beyond mere instinct. While evolution has brought the structure of our bodies and brains to a certain point we also know that in the realm of human and child-development the manner in which we teach each other affects the way that our brain makes connections. In a manner of speaking we can intentionally affect how our brains are organized. This organization, in turn, affects how we act and interact. One may even argue that how we act makes us more fit. Fitness in the narrow sense is simply propagation. I believe that in a broader sense it involves more than just reproduction—fitness also includes well-being, productivity, and living in concord with fellow human beings. Thus how we regard one another, work with one another, and help each other to be our best is a benefit for both ourselves and for those around us.

These activities are achieved through “values” which is shorthand for those conceptions which influence dispositions, habits, and actions. Man, since he has been able to communicate with his fellow man, has discussed values—what is good and what is best—and likewise handed down those values. Values themselves are tested by time and experience. They are tested by hardships and challenges.

Reason and discussion, it may be said, are what make up the furnace of values. Likewise values are applied by different people and in different circumstances, thus their weaknesses are exposed and strengths refined. How those values are expressed are also important—do our actions actually mirror our values? It is foolishness to think that we automatically embody our values—living in accord with any value takes time, effort, and humility. We must always recognize our weakness. On the other hand when we do not attempt to live out certain values we do not actually express them.

In a manner of speaking values are physical and organic, both in their history and within an individual. Consider the image of a tree: when a tree is planted it needs the right circumstances and ingredients to grow. It may very well grow in weak or sandy soil, grow in competition with other trees, grow to be proud and strong, or simply die. Some trees by virtue of its light source will grow in a different direction. Others may be twisted, broken, and bent because of natural disaster. Nevertheless many of them survive in various conditions and amid various trials. Thus, while the tree may appear different in its external presentation each tree is from the same heritage, source, or family (e.g., an oak or a maple are still themselves despite their outward image).

Values themselves may die or they may die in the individual. They may also take root and flourish. Every generation is both the soil and the planter. We are the ones who, having grown up, decide where to plant and how. Values are, in some ways, of supreme importance for how we interact with one another as well as important insofar as they actually affect our physical makeup on the macro and even micro level.

With these in mind, we will proceed to the next part and talk more directly about values and the people who hold them.

Good for its own Sake?

I'm not sure why this came to my mind I was praying Daytime prayer and this line struck me:

Come children and hear
me that I may teach you fear of the Lord.
Who is he who longs for life
and many days, to enjoy prosperity?

Then keep your tongue from evil
and your lips from speaking deceit.
Turn aside from evil and do good
seek and strive after peace.

The Lord turns his face against the wicked
to destroy their remembrance from the earth.
The Lord turn his eyes to the just
and his ears to their appeal. (Ps 34: 12-18, Breviary)

I was struck because I recall a number of conversations I have concerning goodness. Whether it's on the topic of gay marriage, ethical living, a good life, and so forth I get comments ranging from "I don't know if you noticed, but people are very happy without God" (literal comment) and the more understandable "You don't need to believe in God to be a good person."

I'll let it slide that I already believe they're good by virtue of their being created and existing. Those who live according to justice, mercy, and charity are even better for they show their faith by their works. The psalm says, after all, "turn aside from evil and do good." The psalmist has spoken that in order for a long life and prosperity one must do the good. The Bible never shies away from telling us to do good. Note that many days is a long life. The psalmist, however, tells us whoever longs for life itself--the first in the list of life--must do good. Length and prosperity are secondary to life itself which is precisely a life spent doing the good.

It's no wonder that atheists and non-believers of many sorts are happy when they do good. That's the very essence, if you will, to life itself.

The difference here is that the whole of this phrase begins with fear of the Lord. Scriptures say that it is the beginning of wisdom. Fear can take on many forms too. Some fear punishment and do good out of fear. Others do good out of recognition of what is good, loving it because it is life-giving. Some believe that those who believe in God only do the former and those who don't believe only do the latter!

This is the section of Psalm 34 that brought me around to this reflection:

If men who believe in God sin they are doing what is wicked and deprive themselves of life. This is also a choice, but they choose sins because they are advantageous, opportune, or pleasurable despite the risks and (at times) the costs. We who sin do what seems good (or even evil) at the cost of what is truly good. How does the non-believer also not succumb to such temptation of doing what isn't good in favor of his own good? The answer is that he succumbs like all the rest of us; he is not special and we are not special either.

If one were to take the mention of God out of the phrase above it would seem like a normal thing to say: the one who desires a long and happy life should do good and avoid evil. Yet those who truly know themselves know how often their will rebels against their reason--desire trumps reason far too many times.

This is why Sirach says "The knowledge of wickedness is not wisdom, nor is there prudence in the council of sinners. ... there are those with little understanding who fear God, and those of great intelligence who violate the law" (Sir 19:18, 20).

Knowing the good is also not a love of the good and one who says he will simply love the good for its own sake knows in his heart if he speaks the truth or if he is a liar. "There is a shrewdness keen but dishonest, which by duplicity wins a judgment" (19:21).

Some, atheist and Christian, are more disciplined than me but few men will always love the good. Those who believe in God make an appeal to Christ for the helplessness of our dilemma but I do not know what appeal an atheist can make other than that of his own will. We have a tendency in general to glorify the will. The will is important in choosing the good but we are sorely mistaken if we think knowing what is good will make us choose it.

The Psalmist rightly recognizes this. He says that all of wisdom and a good life must come from a fear of the Lord, that is (1) a recognition of His supreme goodness, (2) a recognition that He will, in the end, enforce that Law, namely that goodness and righteousness will endure and wickedness and injustice fall away, and (3) it is He who calls us to do what is good.

(3) is so very important. Goodness as an idea is a concept, one to be apprehended and used. But God is a person and so goodness itself is a personal relationship--it is something experienced and grown. No one apprehends a person by simply knowing him but by being in a relationship, a loving one, with the other. Sin is betrayal. In fact it's labeled as infidelity in marriage.

Those who say they will do good for its own sake may do good for the sake of someone else (society, human beings in need, loved ones) but I do not think the phrase is accurate: "I do good for its own sake." No, they do good for the sake of something else.

It's still good, but it's not a relationship with good, merely knowledge. And the Christian who sins acts against both person and knowledge, something far worse.

An idea can be forgotten and remembered, but little changes.
A person may hurt another but there is great power in reconciliation. There's a great growth of love in forgiveness.

Apologetics Online II

Please forgive my absence from posting more regularly. Some bloggers keep up with a better regimen and react to news more quickly. I'm beginning to feel as if I'm more in St. John's camp. At the end of his second letter he states that he wishes to speak with his brothers face to face. I'm perhaps the same way.

As I work on other pieces during my break I thought it would be nice to share with you some of my other encounters online doing apologetics. These are a few selections from a number of various topics selected. I give them to you all for your scrutiny and hope we can discuss similar questions together. If you have any additional questions, please ask away.

Much obliged.

As with last time, the person who asks me a question/makes a comment will be in italics. My responses will be in plain text.

[1]

 When someone slags off the church (IE calling them paedophiles) what do you say to them?

Well, it's upsetting because it's ignorant--not ignorant in that there are no pedophiles in the clergy (sad and regrettable)--but sometimes these people only want to be listened to.

The ones who say it as a joke or as slander don't want to be told anything. The best response is patience, really,

Others simply have been hurt by it and need to be heard. Other than that there are plenty of statistics to show that the rate among clergy, especially Catholic clergy, is lower and less frequent than nearly any other populations (e.g., fathers, teachers, etc.).

[2] Note: the wide area a simple question opens up to. It shows, I think, how ready we have to be to approach these subjects specifically and then see the larger picture. In this instance infallibility opens up to questions about truth, veracity, certainty, (Medieval) history, philosophy, and Church procedures. It goes on and on.

(I've done some editing and down-sizing)

Do you believe the pope's word is infallible spiritually or otherwise and how con someone who allegedly have a direct link to an omniscient being be wrong about one thing and not another?

First and foremost Papal Infallibility is limited to the Pope speaking authoritatively on matters of faith and morals to the whole Church, not just one part. His comments on local affairs or specific concerns in a field, while they carry weight by virtue of his authority, are not considered infallible.

The "direct link" to Omniscience is not like a phone call to God. The Holy Spirit works in the Church and ultimately Christ, rather, the Trinity, leads the Church. The Pope is the living authority of the Church who by virtue of His stature, is said to be incapable of error or deceit when it comes to the contents of faith.

This has been misinterpreted for centuries, even after clarification in the 19th century, and has been taken to mean that whatever he says is free from error. The pope has only invoked infallibility according to our definition about 30 times in our whole history. Likewise, as Scripture states "the one who is wise seeks council." Very rarely, if ever, has the pope just come out and said "I infallibly say..." In fact he never has. He consults with his fellow bishops on matters of faith that concern the peoples from all over the world and when conflict arises they discuss this conflict's subject matter and how it relates to the whole of the faith. It's a very long process and never done flippantly.

Again isn't he supposed to be god's mouthpiece on Earth; why would he need to do all that if he can contact the "all mighty" himself?

Well we would first have to examine any assumptions one would make about it. First, I don't recall us calling him "God's mouthpiece." It's not an official or even theological title.

It assumes how God speaks to men or through men. It assumes how men listen for God. I wish I could give you a formula for how it happens but it's not subject to human control (or invocation). The Pope is elected as leader of the Church by his fellow brothers because they see in him a spirit of governance. He is not perfect, he's human. By virtue of his position he is given great responsibility but also a great number of graces--should he choose to accept him.

Describing how the Holy Spirit works through men is not an easy task, nor is it one many Christians wish to reflect on or think through.

I know it might be hard for you to process but has it ever occurred to you that it's most likely all made up?

Of course, but then again how much effort have you dedicated to seeing if it's true?

Most of my adolescence and all of my early adulthood. There is a logical tool that is used to determine the veracity of a claim called Occam's Razor. I'm sure you heard of it.It is a line of reasoning that says the simplest answer is often correct. [someone else, atheist it seems, steps in to say, "Not quite. Occam's Razor is more like "the answer that makes the least amount of assumptions is often correct".]

I've also found that that's the extent of people's knowledge of Ockham.

Let use it in an example then!

Which is the simpler claim: that someone can truly be infallible or that it's a lie?

Asking if he's claiming that it's more probable to tell the truth than a lie he response, "No it is much more likely that someone is telling a lie; especially when making an extraordinary a claim as "selective infallibility". If we are to believe any claim we require evidence and extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence." [I also ask if he's read Ockham]

Can you give me the probabilities on that? If you call what I described as "selective" you might as well call any truth claim "selective truth claiming."

As for evidence in general, who requires it and why? What makes a claim extraordinary? Likewise, are claims of logic, philosophy, or similar branches subject to the same criteria as the physical sciences, or are their various forms of demonstration according to their proper field?

I also like the notion of "extraordinary claims." Extraordinary has a very emotional ring to it, doesn't it?

You see, Ockham's Razor is very popular except people seem to have forgotten that he did believe in God--did he not follow his own rule? That, and his use of the "Razor" was more concerned with the discussion of universals than every time someone wanted to talk about God.

[Here it gets a bit more complicated:]

[1] Truth as most commonly defined as that which is in accordance with fact or reality.

What you are claiming is that the pope isn't just selectively telling the truth but as I was getting at that the pope is allegedly capable of selectively dictating without error the word of an alleged all powerful being that created the universe.

[2] A claim that is mundane or a commonly observed or experienced occurrence (like: I walked my dog) is an easily determinable as either true or false there should be no reason to doubt me and if you do I could present to you evidence that I have a dog. Simply by presenting my dog. That would be considered ordinary.

Extraordinary (despite your attempt to call me on an appeal to emotion) is something that is as the word describes extra-ordinary. Which is defined as going beyond what is usual, regular, or customary.

Infallibility would fall under the category of an extraordinary claim.

[3] Because just like Sir Isaac Newton, Ockham's scientific contribution is irrelevant to his religious beliefs. 

Ockham believed that  "only faith gives us access to theological truths. The ways of God are not open to reason, for God has freely chosen to create a world and establish a way of salvation within it apart from any necessary laws that human logic or rationality can uncover." His theism was based solely on private revelation and faith and that god was an ontological necessity. Which given the century he lived in there was literally no alternative theory of how things came to exist. Essentially Ockham granted god special pleading because when you apply the Razor to the claim of god it really does a number on it.

[I quote what I'm responding to:]

Truth as most commonly defined as that which is in accordance with fact or reality.

Philosophy is often quite good at challenging even these claims as being self-evident, but I won't argue semantics here.

But regardless of our views about the value of fact or the precise definition of reality you seem to be adding complications to it by your evaluations of a given pope's actions, i.e., I don't understand  "selectively dictating without error the word of [x]." It leads me to believe that you take his action to be some sort of prophecy or divination which it isn't. I can't really argue against things I don't believe or the Church doesn't teach/proclaim.

It doesn't quite answer my question about your comment about the probability of truth.

Extraordinary (despite your attempt to call me on an appeal to emotion) is something that is as the word describes extra-ordinary. Which is defined as going beyond what is usual, regular, or customary.Infallibility would fall under the category of an extraordinary claim.

Then again, given your dog example, you could claim that you've spoken infallibly about your dog. I only say it's "emotional" in that there usually is some wonder in confronting something extraordinary. The vastness of the universe, stellar motions, and the like can provoke wonder. Sub atomic structures, the formation of organisms from single cells, mitosis, etc. may also be extraordinary in a certain sense. Then again even the act of walking our dog or observing the harmony of an animal's motions can be very captivating. Even something as "ordinary" as ourselves--we are with ourselves most of the time after all--is subject to a great deal of contingency and wonder.

Perhaps this serves as a small example of how easily ordinary and extraordinary can sometimes be confusing, even emotional insofar as they cause us to wonder.

Infallibility is not so extraordinary when one is certain. People seem to infallibly claim things all the time such as:

-the universe is infinite
-the universe is only material (and thus finite)
-any evaluation of the Middle Ages seems to be very extraordinary and many non-historians/Christians/etc. claim many fantastic, infallible things off of weak/unfounded/biased/unhistorical evidence

I use that last example of the ordinary way everyday people speak infallibly about things much larger and more complicated than themselves.

Whenever the Pope speaks infallibly, however, it is not apart from a careful examination of the faith of the people, the content of tradition, and the content of revelation--claims rarely made (as I said) flippantly.

Perhaps you're introducing more extraordinary things into the process.

Because just like Sir Isaac Newton, Ockham's scientific contribution is irrelevant to his religious beliefs.

The thing is that Ockham's claim with the "Razor" was not scientific, but philosophical--a bit of a difference. Likewise Newton's physics (Paschal's too) were motivated by both genuine curiosity, genius, and their faith. It was their belief that creation was orderly, not chaotic, that inspired them to find that order in creation (that's how they would see it--how you see it for them is beside the point).

His theism was based solely on private revelation and faith and that god was an ontological necessity. Which given the century he lived in there was literally no alternative theory of how things came to exist. Essentially Ockham granted god special pleading because when you apply the Razor to the claim of god it really does a number on it.


Are you saying that as a scholar of this particular period of theology and philosophy or just an educated opinion?

Given that he was a member of the Catholic Church he believed in some capacity of revelation throughout history and also through the Church, not just privately. A private faith apart from the Body, the Church did not share clearly or accurately with revelation because a private faith alone is not a part of the Body.

As for alternative theories have you read Anselm, Aquinas, Bonaventure, Scotus, Nicholas of Cusa, or Ockham on their own terms to see if your purported truth claim is, well, true?


I thought the same when I started philosophy, that the Middle ages just said "God" was the answer without any real thought behind it. As it turned out I had to be humbled by my peers and by actual reading to find that, all along, I (me personally) had been the arrogant one and I was wrong. There's a richness and variety that we deny these men by assuming what their arguments are all about.

 [This is the conversation thus far....]

***

Reflection:

Apologetics is a task where one has to get to the heart of what one is asking. In matters of making a defense the first claim is the gateway into a number of further disagreements. If we can be civil and honest about such disagreements we can go a long way. Likewise, we have to carefully see how the other uses his vocabulary--eek out certain assumptions and premises. Very often philosophy is misunderstood, let alone medieval philosophy.

Humility always plays a role in evangelization; we don't know everything. Some people want to argue with us and compete while others simply are interested in how we process the many things that happen. I'm learning to approach both these moments with gratitude. God speaks through our enemies and detractors just as He does our loved ones.

Thanks for reading!

M

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.

The Early Church III-1: Introduction to Christology

Enjoy learning about the early Church? See parts I here and II here.

Prologue

The study of the person, actions, and significance of Christ can be a daunting task. The number of opinions out there about Him, whether one believes or not, are so numerous it seems as if there could never be a consensus on who Jesus actually was or what He actually did. This problem is not a new one, however, but a very ancient one. We see that even when Jesus performed His earthly ministries many were unsure as to His true identity. When Jesus asked his Apostles who others said the Son of Man was they told him, “Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the other prophets” (Mt 16:14). When Jesus addressed them, those who had witnessed him firsthand, Peter took charge and said, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (16:16).

Our difficulty is twofold at this point. First, Jesus claims that “flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father” (16:17). Knowledge of Christ is ultimately subject to revelation, experience, and grace. Secondly, when Peter got it right he showed us how we can still get it wrong.

Peter spoke truly and in the Spirit, but when he heard Jesus say that He must suffer and die at the hands of wicked men Peter was taken aback. He rebuked Jesus—how could the Messiah suffer? How could God Himself die? Jesus called Peter 'Satan' because he is acting as a deceiver. Recall Genesis in this instance, where the serpent says “You certainly will not die!” (Gen 3:4).

Peter only understood so much, as we might expect. Christ's mission was not yet complete. He had not yet suffered, died, risen, and ascended to the Father. In the Gospel of Mark, for example, no man declares that Jesus is the Son of God until he dies on the cross. Even if we come to believe in these things they still remain a great mystery. We may ask “why did Christ have to do it this way?” but it stands that this was the manner God chose to redeem us. There is always something that can be revealed about a person and his intentions when  he has a number of means and options open to him. That he chooses a specific way can teach us if we endeavor to accept it.

Much like the Trinity, the person of Christ is a mystery of the highest kind. The depths of God's love, mercy, power, and person all remain unplumbed. It takes time to rest in these mysteries and allow them to reveal their hidden truths to us. Much like Scripture, these mysteries are present to us in all of our emotions, affections, and states of being. They are ever-ready to reveal something new to us if we are willing to listen to them and trust in them. As Peter himself shows, sometimes that's difficult. One who experiences loss may find it difficult to believe God loves—but what if they were to believe this despite their loss? What would they learn of God's love? What would they understand from their loss?

We may not gain understanding of these things by our efforts—only the Holy Spirit can give us this—but we grow in wisdom by being with Wisdom. Wisdom is, after all, “the spotless mirror of the power of God, the image of his goodness” (Wis 7:26). Proverbs says it more directly: “The beginning of wisdom is: get wisdom; at the cost of all you have get understanding” (Prv 4:7). In order to understand, become wise, to know and be with Christ we must desire it. Christ says “follow me” and we decide to follow. Love compels us to follow, wisdom keeps us safe as we travel. Another way of looking at it is this: wisdom is the benefit, the reward, of love.

We learn from the imperfections He subjected Himself to for our sake. We learn that it's okay to be imperfect.

The purpose of the following is meant to be an introduction and in no way an academic analysis. I have purposefully kept this examination in the early Church in order to show the ambiguity and struggle that many holy men experienced. In the early 300s more articulate language developed in response to honest dialogue as well as heresy. The same is true of the Trinity.

In both cases, while I will focus on the subject at hand, I would like all who read to consider the collaboration, faith, and wisdom of the many bishops, theologians, and saints who made our present-day expression of faith possible. These were men who willingly walked into the darkness of many mysteries and avoided the guile of reducing such things to human and earthly terms. They deflected ideas which rejected the apostolic teaching or those claims which contradicted Scriptures—they were truly masters of both. Let us, in a small way, sit at their feet in order to correct and safeguard our own ways of thinking.

(See III-2 here!) 

Then Who Made God?

When I was around three years old I sat on my grandfather's lap. He would talk to me about many things, but one subject that persists in my memory is when he would talk about God. He would tell me how God created the universe and everything in it. He began by asking me “Do you see the trees outside? Do you know where they came from?” I would ask where they came from and he would say any number of things that a three-year-old could understand and then say “Do you know where all of that came from?” I would then ask where it came from. Finally he said that “God made everything.” I then asked, “But, grandpa, who made God?” He would respond that no one made God and that God was never made or created. I would persist, “But where did he come from?” He would respond “He was always there before everything else.”

Certainly I was confused—I had just gotten my head around contingency (for you adults here): that something comes from something else. Now I was told that there was something that always was. Despite my confusion and repeatedly asking the questions “But where? How?” my grandfather reinforced the answer. Whether I was tired of the answer or, more likely, I accepted the answer, I moved on.

Unless you become like a little child you will not enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

Some may take this moment to be the favorable or regrettable turning point where God was firmly placed in my mind. He was no longer just a name or some chimera, but something so great he defied common logic and experience—sometimes children understand this better than we adults.

Even if I did not believe in God, or if I had forsaken the faith my ancestors strove to protect, the answer I accepted puts me above the great number of adults who pose the question “Then who made God?”(as if it were triumph of secular reason). From the commonly educated to Oxford Professors of Physics, adults pose this question, and others like it, with confidence and a sort of smug satisfaction that could only make my three-year-old self ask “Why don't you just listen?” If one is to engage in a debate or discussion with anyone who has a reasonable (or for others, “considerate”) belief in God, they owe it to them to accept their definition at least as their [the “theist's”] starting point.

Many find this answer “God is uncaused” as a cop-out or a microcosm of faith—or rather the idiocy, apathy, irrationality, or indoctrination of that faith. These wise spectators are quick to taut physics and various explanations of the universe as the superior way. They treat those who believe as dreamers; they consider themselves pioneers and careful investigators. One can discover this disposition in many of them in some form, for once you press the issue that someone truly believes in God you may get a response such as “They can believe in what they want, but I'll stick to science and reason.”

They eat this stuff up. Then again, Mr. Russell believed that all "ideologies" were like a religion which served to make one dependent and fearful. Neither reason nor science have ever been used that way, reports claim.

Yet despite anthropic principles, multiverse theories, etc. which claim to answer the questions of “why are we here” and “why is the universe/earth/etc. so supportive of complex life,” these responses simply produce something else that demands explanation. Now that we've conceived of a multiverse where various constants (for each universe) are different we presently have a multiverse that is unexplained—on what grounds do the constants rise that allow for a multiverse that produces a universe like ours? However fascinating the discoveries are and however deeply we probe the mechanisms of the universe our answer has only answered “how” and not “why” in the fullest sense.

With science silent on the answer that some adherents claim it satisfies, many of these intellectuals give their intellectualism over to a sort of religious tagline (derogatory in their sense): “We'll figure it out eventually.”

I almost figured out this game. Didn't mean I understood it.

In ancient times those in the cult of Dionysus might become drunk on wine to achieve/feel greater unity with the god. Today, many in the cult of Science become drunk on progress in hopes that they will understand everything, perhaps some wish to control it too. They give it praise and protect it zealously should anyone slander its good and holy name.

The face of one who has made the breakthrough discovery that religion is stupid.

Many of these sober men of science become drunk on the prospect of what we can and may understand. No doubt that there is pleasure in understanding and there is something noble about the human spirit trying to understand the world he lives in. But then these men forget themselves and more often forget what others had said about God in all sobriety. Men of science treat the answer “God” as a “god of the gaps” with chilling efficiency and simply shake their heads at the notion, “Those who do not wish to understand respond with 'God', those who know better answer something else.” They rarely pause—they're in such a frenzy—to consider that the one who answers 'God' believes that He is the foundation for all other inquiry and not merely the answer for what we can not understand. The scientists of the 12^th-17^th centuries sat perfectly content with a crucifix on the wall and an experiment on their tables. Such convictions continue even today.

Big Bang theory, anyone? (Georges Lemaitre)

Many of those who put forth a scientific or secular idea of the whole, however, are often convinced in the notion that they are supported by evidence and facts—in some ways they hold that they rely on facts and evidence alone. While it is true that the make use of facts and data, some of them must be aware that facts, proofs, and likelihoods as they stand offer no reason for us to reflect on them, i.e., how they affect us as users of those facts. Many forget that “facts,” however one wishes to define them, has two aspects: 1) what they convey and state and 2) how they are used. Those who rely on facts alone have no ground in those same facts on how to make use of them. At the least, those who believe in God have ground to consider what he does with the discoveries of nature in our world.

Certainly those who do not believe have grounds upon which they decide how to use what they find, it's just not upon the fact that they discovered. It is usually some other “fact” or ideology that organizes what they find. Eventually we find that it isn't grounded in facts, as such, but rather some disposition that they hold as a matter-of-fact. At this point we may dispute who has better grounds to argue this or that, but it won't be found purely in science or empirical observation.

God is not the answer to how or why for me in a mundane sense, he is the reason and authority upon whom we may ask and answer how and why. One has only to read the end of Job and see the wisdom of the Jews: “Where were you when I founded the earth? … Who determined its size; do you know? … Have you ever in your lifetime commanded the morning and shown the dawn its place for taking hold of the ends of the earth” (Job 38:4, 5, 12). We are not in charge of the universe, we dwell in it—fragile, weak, dependent. Anyone who ridicules belief in God by bringing up scientific or naturalist explanations should reflect on the book of Job and what it says about a belief in God.

Those who believe that we stop with God have stopped themselves from thinking, or they have rather stopped themselves from listening. Creation comes from the creator. We cannot understand the creator fully, but Scripture relates to us what we may extract from creation about Him: creation was made out of love, creation was made as good, and creation was made to be both lived in and known.

God founded the earth so that we may live in it and appreciate it. We appreciate the earth through nourishment, beauty, and understanding. Though it is not the purpose of this piece to discuss evil, we may even learn about the creator in our reflection of evil, imperfection, and tragedy. We must confront ourselves about tragedy and loss, asking why it exists and asking ourselves if it is really unnecessary. Regardless of anyone's answer it is grounds for reflection “is suffering natural or unnatural?” The crucifix stands as an answer for you to interpret, but also stands as an answer that goes beyond a simple yes or no.

"He is before all things, and in him all things hold together ... In him all fullness was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile all things for him, making peace by the blood of his cross, whether those on earth or those in heaven" (Colossians 1:17, 19-20)

When arguing about God it helps to listen rather than react. Here we can learn virtue from children who trust even when they do not understand. They are trusting but they are not forced to remain ignorant. Those who teach children not to believe also rely on them trusting you and what you believe is true. The trust of a child should never be taken for granted. But when we become adults we are confronted with adult understandings. As adults we should listen as well as a child (odd as it sounds) and learn to accept what the other is saying, rather than reduce one's belief in God to their own disbelief in God—that's being childish, ironically a common vice among adults.

Is belief in God a “god of the gaps” or a surrender of reason? For countless generations and myself it isn't. For me it is the beginning of wonder: someone who is outside the commonly observable, the foundation of all being, and ultimate simplicity. Must I account for where He came from? At that point we're no longer speaking about the same God.

Mary Most Holy

When I have debated with others about the Genesis narratives of creation one comment that emerges is the similarities of those narratives to other creation narratives, most notably the Enuma Elish in Babylonian mythology. This similarity for some is proof enough that the Biblical account is merely one among many accounts or that it simply stole from their captors but made minor changes (The Enuma Elish predates the written Biblical account).

Many Christian scholars now believe that the similarity in construction is intentional and that the Genesis account is structured close to the Babylonian myth in order to act as a theological polemic. When one puts both accounts side by side it seems as if the syntax is nearly identical—for the undiscerning mind. The slight changes of both tone and process reveals a delicate construction on the part of both authors, Babylonian or Hebrew. Contained in simple mythological language are commentaries about creation, the nature of man, the nature of God (or gods), and much more. In reading both I have always found that the Hebrew account was in all ways more fascinating, powerful, and rich. This is not simply my allegiance to Christ but also simply taking both narratives by the power of their own arguments. The Biblical account has the advantage of being the “response” so to speak, but some of the best and most compelling arguments are the ones that sound almost exactly like your opponent but turn the whole issue on its head. The Genesis accounts, both of them (but more the first), share this excellent quality.

This is a perfect example of someone who has taken the time to align the syntax of both stories in such a way so as to situate them as merely a historical occurrence. Indeed, at face value they are nearly identical when seen in this way. What the author of this rather long and not un-scholarly article fails to consider is "why" and "how" the stories are presented.
If the author does not believe in God (or discounts a perspective of belief) those questions are irrelevant anyhow. See the comments at the bottom of this article to see how others treat it. For them it's not a matter of it could be true, or that the construction is intentional, but that it's human, all too human. (Article)

I give you this example as a way of introducing a thought of mine on the great and beautiful account of Mary. It is not the fruit of years of research or devotion—I have not had the grace others who experience an intimate relationship with Mary in their prayer—but I must admit that as I grow older I am drawn more quickly to reflect on her maternal love and anguish, both of them intensified beyond my comprehension by virtue of her son, Jesus Christ. What I want to propose is that the Evangelists, men who knew Scripture and indeed had the Spirit working within them, chose a similar approach of expressing Mary. I do not deny the historicity of the Annunciation but I found it worth my time reflecting on the parallels between Mary's mission, as it were, and the mission and commission of others in Scripture. The similarities tie her into a greater narrative and the differences set her apart. This was a conscious choice by the Evangelists but also, in my mind, their indication of a most unique specialness of Mary in the whole of history.

Her uniqueness often lies in what makes her most unnoticeable.

I will focus on Luke who has a special interest in Mary. Luke also is kind enough to give us the whole paradigm by relating the announcement of the birth of John the Baptist to his father Zechariah. This narrative alone has strong parallels in Abraham's call and promise of a son. When the angel of the Lord told them that their wives would bear them a son Abraham laughed and Zechariah said “How shall I know this? I am an old man and my wife is advanced in years” (Luke 1:18). This is the response of mankind, from ancient times immemorial to the present day. God promises the fantastic and impossible and we shake our heads both stupefied and incredulous.

At first glance, it would seem Mary's response is no different: “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” (Lk 1:34). This is a problem for English that masks this profound difference of Mary. In the Greek (I won't bore you with all the details) Zechariah asks “how shall I know this” as if to say 'unless I know how can I believe?' This is why the angel silences him, literally, saying “Now you will be speechless … because you did not believe my words” (Lk 1:20). Mary, on the other hand, responds with the verb “estai” in Greek which perhaps colloquially means “how can this be” but has the force of “it shall be, how shall it come about?” Zechariah asked how will he know (gnosomai) whereas Mary asks with that powerful verb 'to be' “how will it come to pass?” Already, in this small juxtaposition we see in Mary that there is no tension between her and the message of God. This is why she can say afterward “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38).

We take for granted the circumstances of this passage. After all, an angel of the Lord presents himself to Mary and she trembles as every other man and woman had in all of Scripture. Yet when she is addressed there is no hesitation.

More curious and fascinating still is that in nearly every narrative that deals in a special call is preceded by an admission of the speaker of his weakness. Jeremiah declared he was too young (Jer 1:6), Abraham that he was too old (Gen 17:17), and Moses that he could not speak well (Ex 4:10). Mary, on the other hand, says nothing of her unworthiness in any fashion. Even Isaiah who readily exclaimed “Here I am! Send me” recalled that he was a man of “unclean lips from a people of unclean lips.” Mary, however, not only accepts the word of God but finds herself fully capable from the outset of doing it. The angel says nothing of her unbelief. Rather, Mary asked and the answer was given to her because of her faith. She knew it was not to be done according to her knowledge but His word.

A Flemish painting of the announcement of a son for Abraham. He seems to be saying, "What? With her?" He laughed when God suggested it and thus his son was named "Issac" which roughly means "he laughs."

There are a wealth of examples I could bring up about the stark contrast of Mary to the rest of the holy men and women cataloged in Scripture, such as her name remaining the same despite the gravity of her task (contrary to Peter, Paul, Abraham, Israel, etc. whose names were changed). The question we must ask ourselves when contemplating Mary, her role, her importance, and her significance is “what does it mean?”

Was it arbitrary? For the believer to say such a thing about Scripture is foolishness. Much like Genesis, when we see that the argument is constructed like the others we are lulled into a false security and sense of familiarity. The account of Mary is not a polemic as such, but it is a theology-rich exposition (history). It is constructed like all the others in order to magnify the differences. As to the question “what does it mean,” which is a worthy question for each line of Scripture, she clearly meant a great deal to Luke. The early Church furnishes us with further reflection on Mary and what she meant to them. They were ready to call her the “New Eve” for if sin first entered the world through the disobedience of man and woman then it is only right that through the obedience and humility of a man (Jesus) and woman (Mary) that salvation was made available to all. Augustine expresses this sentiment in his book “On Christian Teaching,” albeit seemingly unfair to women, by saying “The disease [sin] entered through a corrupted female mind; healing emerged from and intact female body” (Book I.13.xxix).

There are too many great images that seem to me to relate Mary's purity in a way that only an image can convey.

For it is not our place to simply say our salvation is “through Christ alone” as if to say “nothing else matters.” Rather, it is better to wonder at “God chose that His only begotten son would be born of a woman and bear our entire human estate.” I do not diminish Christ's supreme and necessary role. What I am saying is that we must examine, marvel, pray, and give thanksgiving for how he chose to effect His grand designs. Where men are often moved by grandeur God chose to enter in all humility. Likewise, where many in Scripture wanted to control the situation they were in (and in the process doubt God) Mary became a perfect conduit of grace by virtue of her obedience and humility.

On this, the Holy Day of the Immaculate Conception I thought it would be worthy to devote some time to reflection on Mary most holy. There is far more to say than my meager words here. I only leave this with you to look at Mary as I see her (or perhaps as I'm beginning to see her). No other human being can claim to have known Christ in his full humanity or divinity than his mother who loved him with all the intensity of motherhood and suffered on account of his suffering more than anyone can comprehend. Woman is the crown of creation and Mary the queen of humanity. May her resplendent example lead us to Jesus Christ her son and to God almighty.

The Mediation of the Saints (2): God Works through Us

Note: You can see part 1 here (Mediation of the Saints Part 1)
Part 3 posted now as well!  (Part 3: Walking Together)

This was actually twice as long and I split this up into two parts. The good news is that the next part is done. The bad news is that this may be disjointed. I'm going to come back to this tomorrow and see if I need to edit anything (such as make additions).

Please leave your comments and questions below. It's not finished, so I realize that some of you may not want to render judgment just yet, but a heads-up to potential problems makes for a better process. Thanks again!

II. God Works through His People

Last time we said that the saints, in accord with the letter of James, were exemplary “doers of the word” (James 1:22). They not only stand before us as a model but a living voice in every age calling each of us to conversion. In the previous section we saw that the Apostles, filled with the Spirit, attracted a great number to them. Some take delight in having others flock to them and hang on their every word. A saint, however, does as John the Baptist did: he pointed to Christ.

A saint, in his perfect humility, does all his work for the sake of Jesus Christ and His mission which is the salvation of the whole world. I also claimed last time that seeking their intercession was not an act of disobedience to Christ but an act of personal humility for Christ. We, weak as we often are, ask for the prayers of men and women who know how to ask more perfectly. Indeed, James tells us that “you ask but do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions” (James 4:3).

Below we shall examine this truth: God uses us and the whole world in order to call us to Himself.

Some have argued that asking for the aid of the saints is to put a sort of “middle man” in between God and the person. This argument, which takes many forms, seems to me to be ignorant of Scripture as well as the process of salvation.

God employs harvesters and fishers of men to do his work. He gives those who are faithful in small matters even greater responsibility (cf. Mt 25:14-30).

But God's will and action are not limited to his own word or his hands. It pleased God to use intermediaries to effect his designs such as the prophets, the Apostles, the angels, and his saints. God also used the wicked and the deformed to effect his will. He did not use them as a puppeteer but rather allowed their wickedness to bring about an inevitable good. God used the Assyrians and Babylonians to convert Israel back to Him:

Who was it that gave Jacob to be plundered, Israel to the despoilers [the Assyrians]? Was it not the Lord, against whom we have sinned? In his ways they refused to walk, his law they disobeyed. So he poured out wrath upon them, his anger, and the fury of battle; It blazed round about them, yet they did not realize, it burned them, but they took it not to heart. (Is 42:24-25, italics added for emphasis).

Their houses will fall to strangers [the Babylonians], their fields and their wives as well; For I will stretch forth my hand against those who dwell in this land, says the Lord” (Jer 6:12) (cf., Jer 27:2-6).

The prophet Jeremiah. Hated among his peers and countrymen. Laughed at, scorned, and threatened his whole life he proclaimed God's word. Other prophets and believers tried to silence him and offer a different message. He is a reminder to us that those whom we dislike, hate, or consider as 'less faithful' (or whatever suits us) may in fact be a clearer display of God's message than we care to say. The man who speaks out against evil despite the consequences is a man of God. Jeremiah was a true man of God, despite his pitiable appearance and difficult life.

We see that God uses and allows our desires to aid us or harm us. The prophet Hosea proclaims that God “will hedge in her way with thorns and erect a wall against her, so that she cannot find her paths. If she runs after her lovers, she shall not overtake them; if she looks for them she shall not find them. Then she shall say, "I will go back to my first husband, for it was better with me then than now." So I will allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart” (Hos 2:8-9, 16).

Look closely at this passage and reflect deeply on these words. The thorns He erects are for paths that lead to false gods and immorality. These paths are none other than our malformed choices and desires. The destination we all seek, however, is happiness. She runs “after her lovers” which is happiness gained through immorality and false worship. She “searches but shall not find” means that those who look for happiness outside of God (i.e., in these errant ways) will not find it. This is not to say that we do not have things that make us happy. But we invariably fool ourselves when we think finite and temporary things will give us lasting pleasure. Pleasure gives way to pain. Moreover attachment to anything, good or bad, will be counted as a loss to us. It will return to dust regardless of our actions. True happiness is found in the true God. The path that leads to Him will have what we need to get to Him—it does not exclude loved ones, pleasure, or happiness but it is ordered to God and God alone. When God leads her “into the desert” this means that our hearts, when they recognize that nothing else will last except God we will realize He is the sum of all our desires and we will seek Him in all we do and do His will. So many want to have “God and...” and end up with nothing. Wisdom dictates that when we have “God alone...” we gain everything, even what we thought was lost. When we believe we are building paths to God through our desires we are often constructing cages and walls that keep us from Him. The prophets are all of one voice saying “What must we lose to gain?”

The prophet Hosea was told to take a wife for himself. She was a known prostitute who committed many infidelities. God told Hosea that this was how Israel had treated Him. All the same, God commanded that he love her and take her back because the love of God and deeper and more powerful than any infidelity. God could not show us this striking image, however, unless Hosea loved and trusted God enough to do as he was asked.

This passage from Hosea is only one example that explains how God works with us and through us whether we are conscious of it or not. Some, however, believe that this interaction of God in our lives (i.e., “grace”) is irresistible and unavoidable. The believe that God will use anyone and we just happen to be lucky if we're on the right side of the battle. I propose to show how that isn't true.

Next time we will look at how God interacted with the prophets and how the prophets worked with God. We shall see how the prophets were men of all walks of life who were given a special mission and a unique grace to feel what God feels and speak with Him openly.

In Praise of Weakness

 Author's Note:

I realized after writing this that it may be cryptic for some. For those struggling with one of the themes, please consider this: to neglect, hate, or ridicule someone or something for weakness or simplicity is an error on your part. These are all strong words, to be sure, but I've heard far too many arguments along the lines of "he's a sinner how could you love him?" Even of the blessed St. Peter "he was a fool and serves as an example for us." Others may say "I hate myself because I keep messing up [in sin, etc.]." Others still have said that "the Church is just human authority filled with human weakness, I follow God alone."

Part of this is about patience and perseverance coupled with understanding and a willingness to change.

I ask, humbly, you reflect on those sentiments with this. This is hardly adequate for full but in the interest of your own attention and retention I cut this down significantly.

What are you talking about??  (Comment below if you feel that way)

I. Introduction

Those who do not share in the weaknesses of the body have no share in the body itself. For what body in this life is free from corruption and limitedness? Even the great Body of Christ is subject to weakness precisely because he subjected Himself to our weakness since “he took the form of a slave” (Phil 2:7) and “was of human estate.” Even after the Resurrection His resplendent and transformed body still bore the wounds of his glorious crucifixion (cf. Jn 20:20). It should be noted even more that Jesus identifies Himself with the weak and broken for “what you have done for the least of these you have done for me” (Mt:25:40). Likewise Jesus identified Himself with those who were persecuted, ridiculed, and killed in His name. This is why He said “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (cf. Acts 9:4, 5).

Paul said that “Christ is the head of the body the church.” (Col 1:18). We have seen, albeit briefly, that Christ shared in our humanity fully and willfully. We saw, through His resurrection, that He transformed our weaknesses while still keeping the physical marks of that weakness. They were not cast aside or hidden but present in plain sight. Jesus told Thomas “put your finger in my hands and in my side” (cf. Jn 20:27ff). The history of Christianity is a constant call to “place our fingers on the wounds of His body.” Thomas doubted the Resurrection, perhaps, because after witnessing the horror and shame of the cross (and living in his own shame) he asked ‘how might anything good come from this?’ Christ showed him precisely the good that came from it, namely His own person.

Caravaggio's famous painting not only represents the doubt of Thomas but that same doubt that we feel about our Church and her divine characteristics. Are we willing to address our doubts? Are we still willing to trust in the Church?

II. Sharing in Weakness

This is what I call each of you to do today: If you are to truly share in the Body of Christ do you share in its weaknesses? The weaknesses I refer to are failures in charity, excessive opulence, elements of the Inquisition and Crusades, sex abuses, and every weakness that we see in our own person. Blaming the past, however horrible—and indeed some things are horrible—is to separate fallen and weak humanity from the life of faith. Faith is not perfection but, in a manner of speaking, seeking perfection. Weakness is either self-generated or encountered, shall we shy away from either?

I rarely see this type of image, of Jesus as a fragile child being cared for. Jesus Christ, our savior and Lord, became as a little child out of love for us.

Christ met our broken humanity. He calls us through faith and baptism to share in His mission of transforming all of humanity. If we deny the humanity of the Body we separate ourselves from that Body. The Church is the Body of Christ beset by human weakness but all the same transformed by Christ and upheld by the Spirit.

When we recognize weaknesses and failures there is a twofold response: the first is active insofar as we seek to rid ourselves of that weakness (whatever it may be). The second, equally important, is to realize that we are not separate from our weaknesses. The weaknesses that we carry inform our actions for the future, even in healing. If we do not address our weakness actively we won’t change effectively. If we try to disassociate ourselves from our weaknesses we become insensitive to the weaknesses of others and we forget who we are.

III. Examples of Weakness Transformed

St. Peter is our first example and our guide. He was filled with faith and he was blessed personally by Christ (cf. Mt 16:16-20). But he had his faults too. He was rash and at times overzealous. This zeal, coupled with his predispositions about what the Messiah was supposed to be, led him to deny Christ three times while He was being humiliated. He abandoned his friend and the one whom he loved. “He wept bitterly” (cf. Mt 27:75). After the resurrection Christ called out to him and Peter responded. Christ confronted Peter’s sin, fear, and weakness not by shaming him but by asking him, “Peter, do you love me?” Jesus asked him this three times for every time Peter denied him. Peter recanted three times saying “You know that I love you” (Jn 21:17). Peter is a man whose strengths and weaknesses are on full display. Just as God had chosen Moses, Abraham, and David before He chose this time to call a simple fisherman to greatness. These patriarchs and this king themselves sinned, doubted, and failed. Through it all they carried out what God had asked of them. Only Peter, however, was given “the keys of the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 16:19).

Despite his brashness and weakness Christ still pulled him from the water. Despite his denial Jesus came to him and Peter grew in understanding, wisdom, and love because of Christ's example.

Our chief example, and one that has given me pause for years, is the Eucharist. I believe in Christ and I believe in Christ risen. I also believe that at the Last Supper he gave us a model to follow: he took the bread, broke it and said, 'take this all of you and eat this. This is my body which has been given up for you.' He also said of the wine 'this is my blood.' This I believe with my whole heart. This sentiment is in accord with all that has been said above. Truly, to our senses it appears as mere bread and mere wine. Then I recall with wonder that “he emptied himself … coming in human likeness and found in human appearance” (Phil 2:7). Likewise that “he had to become like his brothers in every way” (Heb 2:17).

Indeed, the Eucharist is regarded as the Son of Man, present sacramentally in ordinary bread and wine which has been transformed by the prayer that Christ entrusted to His Apostles and their successors. The Eucharist is both a glorification of the Cross and a sacrifice that dips into the eternal moment of Christ's one sacrifice and shares fully in it. It is something that stands outside of time. Something so grand, God Himself! in ordinary, daily food. Christians have praised the extraordinary in the ordinary as well as paradox from the beginning insofar as “Jews look for signs and Greeks look for wisdom but we proclaim Christ crucified” (1 Cor 1:22-23).

This is what we exalt. Do you?

Furthermore Jesus Christ Himself is “the living bread that came down from heaven that one may eat it and not die. I AM the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world” (Jn 6:50-51). I could occupy an encyclopedia set with the richness of these verses. The word “eat” (phagein) has no spiritual connotation. It literally means to chew and physically eat. By eating this living bread we shall not die. Then Christ follows by saying “ego eimi” which means “I am.” But this is no mere “I am” but rather a direct reference to God speaking about Himself in the Old Testament. It is a proclamation of authority and power—this is something we should listen to. He said “I AM the living bread come down from heaven.” He then says “Whoever eats/chews this bread will live forever.” He further says “the bread which I give is my flesh,” Literally my earthly flesh. The simple bread which He gives is his flesh. For the time being let this entirely inadequate account suffice. No “ego eimi” statement in Scripture is a metaphor or an opinion. It is Jesus speaking in the authority of the Father on an intrinsic reality.

IV. Share in Weakness, Share in Glory

What is my purpose in saying all of this? Proceeding from the Eucharist and the example of the Apostles (chief among them Peter) Christ gave us two simple and lowly things and transformed them. He transformed bread and wine into His flesh and blood. He transformed simple fishermen into philosophers, teachers, and bearers of His message. Though they were of human estate they were transformed and “filled with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:4).

The Church is the Body of Christ—it is subject to weakness. The Eucharist is bread and wine made the Body and Blood of Christ—it is common and ordinary yet mysterious and sublime. The Apostles were chosen by Christ Himself to bear unique witness to His teaching and mission—they were “also human beings” (Acts 10:26). Jesus Christ identifies with the poor, persecuted, and the oppressed in an intimate way—they are lowly and 'worthless' in the eyes of the world. Finally, Jesus Christ Himself, was born of a virgin in poverty. He was a helpless child and a man subjected to ridicule and cruel torture. A man who took on our every weakness.

By eating His flesh and blood, and through baptism, we join ourselves more fully to Him so that we may share in His suffering. In our own flesh we “fill up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of His body, which is the Church” (Col 1:24). When the Church, or even her members, do evil the whole suffers. By our personal and communal work, love, and suffering we correct the wounds of that Body and also “share in our master's joy” (cf. Mt 25:14-23).

Follow their hands and their eyes. They are looking at Christ, yes. They are looking at the Eucharist.

Join yourself, then, more fully to Him and His Church, for those who do not share in the weaknesses of the Body will separate themselves from the Body. In rejecting weakness and wickedness as unlovable they move away from the God “who so loved the world that He gave His only Son” (Jn 3:16a).