Speeding Up to Slow Down

Something interesting is going on in my diocese in preparation for the implementation of the new translation of the Roman Missal this Advent. In an attempt to make the Mass more standard from parish to parish, and in order to bring things more into conformity with the original Latin prayers, our Bishop desires that all new musical settings for the Gloria be faithful to the new English translation. To ensure this, he has, as of last week, mandated that every parish use a specific arrangement for the Gloria in English, the "Mass for a Servant Church" by Michael Guimont. You can listen to this Gloria here.

On the one hand, it is admirable that our bishop wants to promote a liturgical standard in the Diocese of Lansing, and even more so that he desires this standard to be based on texts that are completely faithful to the original Latin. I applaud these directives.

On the other hand, this mandate introduces several problems. First, what of parishes, like my own, that have already been accustomed to singing the Latin Gloria at our Ordinary Form Masses? As the directive stands (at least as it was explained to me), even parishes already using a Latin Gloria now have to use this English Gloria. This does not make sense. The goal of the directive is to ensure greater fidelity to the original Latin - you can't get much more faithful to the original Latin than actually using the original Latin.

Secondarily, we have the problem that this music is a bit awkward. One of the reasons for the dissimilarity between the Latin and the older English Gloria settings was the desire to make the Gloria more rhythmic and singable for an English audience. The new Gloria, literally translated from the Latin, does not fit well in an English musical setting. For example, take the old Gloria:

Glory to God in the highest
And peace to His people on earth

Each phrase has 8 syllables, making is easy to fit into the kind of structured, "hymnal" setting that most English speaking congregations are used to. But, if we are taking a translation directly from the Latin (which is meant to be chanted), we get something different:

Glory to God in the highest

And on earth peace to people of good will

Here the first phrase has 8 syllables, but the second has 10, meaning that it is more difficult to fit it together in a hymnal arrangement. To be sure it can be done, as Michael Guimont's arrangement demonstrates, but the manner in which the new phrases are shoved together makes it that much more difficult for the average parishioner to sing this piece. In my parish we are having difficulty with it, not just because it is new, but because in some places the only way it can get all the text into a measure is by moving extremely fast. Some parts move slowly, some quickly and the timing almost changes in every "verse" (the Gloria is not supposed to be set up in a verse/refrain structure, but I digress), making it extremely difficult to follow along with.

My point is that the new English translation of the Gloria does not lend itself as easily to a hymnal musical structure; nor should it. It is a literal translation of a prayer that is supposed to be chanted. If we want to promote fidelity to the original Latin, how about we encourage parishes to use the original Latin?  Duh.

Our parish is already ahead of most parishes in this country in that we were using all of the fixed Mass parts in Latin well before the new translation. We were where the pope wants the Church to be going; and now, in an effort to more fully implement the pope's thinking, the bishop is actually slowing our parish down. It's like we did all the speeding up just to be slowed down - in the name of speeding up!

I personally think this directive may in fact be uncanonical, though I am not sure, as a bishop's authority over the liturgy is complex. I do know that a bishop's discretion is only applicable in areas not regulated by the Holy See. How it applies to areas where there are not clear regulations but preferences, I'm not at all certain. Liturgically, Gregorian chant in Latin remains the number one preference of the Church and has pride of place, as Sacrosanctum Concilium states. If a parish is using the Church's traditional, preferred option, in keeping with the documents of Vatican II, does a bishop have the authority to mandate an equally valid but lesser liturgical option? Could he, say, mandate that every priest use Eucharistic Prayer 2 or a certain option for the Penitential Rite? I personally don't think so; I can see an argument for mandating the norms, but I don't see how he can mandate one of the lesser options when the Church asks for the norm; how can one mandate an exception and exclude the rule?

Here is how this problem could be solved: rework the directive so that it says all parishes must use the Guimont version of the English Gloria, unless they are already using the Latin. After all, the Latin is the measure by which we are judging the English. All problems relating to fidelity to the original prayers become moot if we just use the original prayers.

It seems tragic to compel a parish that has already made tremendous strides in introducing Latin to go back to vernacular, especially in the name of returning standardization to the liturgy.

Therefore, I earnestly petition and pray that our good bishop, who has done so much for tradition in our diocese, will relent in this matter and grant an exception allowing for the use of the Gloria in Latin. Or, if I am misunderstanding this directive and arguing against a straw-man, may somebody show me the truth and correct me.

Other posts on liturgical music:

"Our of the Mouths of Babes": A group of elementary school students learns the Our Father in Latin in three days, disproving forever the argument that the Latin prayers are "too hard" for the laity to learn.

"Singing Satan's Parts": Many object to singing God's words in liturgical music; what about when we sing Satan's parts?

"More Rock Music at Mass": When I take my kids to another parish where they play rock music, my kids start dancing in the pews.

"Contemporary Music Isolates the Elderly": The elderly suffer most from bizarre liturgical music.

Pride and Protestantism

Catholics and Protestants come at the truth through two different avenues. In the Catholic theology, we look at the content of Divine Revelation and interpret it through the lens of our own tradition, which we hold to be authoritative. Thus, while certain questions are open for discussion and will always be so, there are many others which we hold as "settled." For these settled issues, such as Christ's real presence in the Eucharist, the Trinity, etc., the task of the theologian is not so much to prove them or argue for them as it is to explain and expand upon them, making these truths more accessible and penetrating to the average Catholic. We receive something that was given to us, accept it with docility and humility, and then attempt to pass it on to others in the best way we know how.

Thus, in Catholicism, truth is something that is given. It is a gift. In the first place, a gift from God, who gives us revelation gratuitously for the sake of our salvation, but secondly, a gift from the Church itself. Nobody learns the faith on their own; it is handed on from generation to generation, and the essence of what it means to be Catholic is to receive this truth humbly and with docility. Thus, the Catholic concept of Divine Revelation as being handed on and protected by the Church promotes an attitude of doctrinal humility even while allowing us to repose in the certainty of the content of those doctrines. Doctrine is primarily something that is received.

This is an interesting contrast to Protestantism. In Protestantism, there is no idea of an absolutely authoritative tradition. Some Protestant groups value tradition more than others, but no Protestant sect teaches that any tradition can have divine authority behind it, as we do. Thus, all authority, ultimately, must rest with the individual, who decides for himself what is truth and what is error. He may consult tradition, or the teachings of others wiser and older than himself, but ultimately it is the believer and the believer alone who decides how much influence he will allow these teachings to have. Doctrine is not something that is given and received in humility, but something that each person must painstakingly sort out for themselves.

If doctrine is not something that is given, then it is not something that is received. It is something the believer kind of cobbles together, based on whatever criteria he wants to include or not include. In Protestantism, all doctrine is ultimately the creation of the believer. As such, the believer always has what we could call a "vested interest" in defending his doctrines because they are really his in a way that doesn't apply to the Catholic, whose teaching is handed on and received.

This means that, for a Protestant, defending his doctrine means defending his own privately formed opinions. They might be opinions shared by a great many other Protestants, but they are still opinions, because there is no final arbitrating authority in Protestantism other than a fuzzy consensus. Note the difference between Catholicism and Protestantism here - in the one case, believers are empowered to adhere to certain, infallible truth but in a spirit of humility, which is possible because the doctrine of the Catholic is now his own. On the other hand, the Protestant, who has no infallible authority beyond himself, is forced to make a "personal investment" in his own doctrine. His own doctrine represents his common sense, spirituality and personal judgment all wrapped up into one. Thus, for a Protestant, it would seem that it is much more difficult to have that sense of humility and awe before the truth that is so necessary for spiritual growth.

How can one be humble and docile before a truth that one ultimately does not receive but creates? I am not accusing all Protestants of being prideful, but it seems that the manner in which Protestantism teaches that doctrine should be appropriated leads rather to pride in one's own judgment and opinions than to humility. Is dogma a gift handed on or is it our own fabrication? If it is a gift, we can repose in wonder and humility before it; if it is a creation (which it ultimately must be if we reject authoritative tradition), then it comes with all of the arrogance and close-mindedness that all men display when defending their own personal opinions.

Interesting how we could apply this principle to liturgy, too (liturgy that is handed on versus fabricated and which promotes a greater sense of humility - are we the humble recipient or the grand master?). An authoritative Tradition makes it possible to receive the truth with docility; sola scriptura leads us to invest our own opinions with divine authority, leading to pride.

John 7:16~ "Jesus answered them, and said: My doctrine is not mine, but his that sent me."

St. Augustine did not "invent" Original Sin

I am amazed how historians who seem to have an otherwise good grip on history will, when it comes to the Church or sacred history, make grossly erroneous statements that reveal how ignorant they are on the subject matter. I was recently reading a best-selling economic history book by a Harvard professor that had some statement in there about Solomon asking the Lord to stop the sun; this episode happened not to Solomon, but to Joshua, of course, who lived several centuries before Solomon. Almost everybody, even people not knowledgeable in the Old Testament, have at least heard of how Joshua commanded the sun to stop at the Valley of Aijalon. For a Harvard historian to get the wrong person by two centuries is pretty bad, especially when the data is right in front of your eyes and you just have to do the research. But who cares; it's only the Bible, right?

I have encountered a similar but more widespread problem when it comes to the doctrine of original sin and its alleged "invention" by St. Augustine of Hippo. I have seen this in textbooks, history books, historical programming, even materials put together by Catholic organizations - all asserting, almost as if it is without contest, the "fact" that the Church's teaching on original sin was an invention of St. Augustine of Hippo and is not found in either the Scriptures or the Fathers.

This baffles me, as it seems that just a cursory reading of Scripture and the Fathers, with a bit of understanding of the historical context of Augustine's teaching on original sin, is enough to disprove this oft repeated error of fact. St. Augustine was certainly integral to the development of the doctrine of original sin, even as St. Thomas was integral to the development of the doctrine of the Real Presence or St.Cyprian was integral in the development of ecclesiology. Nevertheless, just as it is wrong to say St. Thomas invented the Real Presence or St. Cyprian invented the concept of episcopal unity, so it is equally wrong to state that St. Augustine invented the doctrine of original sin. This error becomes culpable when done in textbooks and other contexts that are supposed to be shedding light on history but actually just obscure the facts.

First, let us define Original Sin. Original sin, in the context I am using it, refers to the teaching that death comes to man through the sin of our first parents, and that the grace of God is necessary to overcome this sin and perform any salutary works. The traditional teaching on original sin is summarized in the canons of the Council of Carthage against Pelagianism (418):

1. Death did not come to Adam from a physical necessity, but through sin.
2. New-born children must be baptized on account of original sin.
3. Justifying grace not only avails for the forgiveness of past sins, but also gives assistance for the avoidance of future sins.
4. The grace of Christ not only discloses the knowledge of God's commandments, but also imparts strength to will and execute them.
5. Without God's grace it is not merely more difficult, but absolutely impossible to perform good works.

For many, this Council represents the "invention" of a novel doctrine. But this assertion reveals, I think, an ignorance of the words of Scripture and the teaching of the Fathers.

Let us first turn to what I believe in the classic proof-text for original sin in the Scriptures, the words of St. Paul in his Epistle to the Romans, chapter 5:

"Wherefore as by one man sin entered into this world and by sin death [contra the Pelagians who taught that death was natural and not the result of sin]: and so death passed upon all men [death is what was passed, not simply a bad example], in whom all have sinned. For until the law sin was in the world: but sin was not imputed, when the law was not. But death reigned from Adam unto Moses, even over them also who have not sinned, after the similitude of the transgression of Adam, who is a figure of him who was to come. But not as the offense, so also the gift. For if by the offense of one, many died: much more the grace of God and the gift, by the grace of one man, Jesus Christ, has abounded unto many. And not as it was by one sin, so also is the gift. For judgment indeed was by one unto condemnation: but grace is of many offenses unto justification. For if by one man's offense death reigned through one; much more they who receive abundance of grace and of the gift and of justice shall reign in life through one, Jesus Christ. Therefore, as by the offense of one, unto all men to condemnation: so also by the justice of one, unto all men to justification of life. For as by the disobedience of one man, many were made sinners: so also by the obedience of one, many shall be made just" (Rom. 5:12-19).

St. Paul here clearly states that death came into the world through the offense of one man, and that through this offense, "many were made sinners" and "many died." This is precisely what is taught by the Council of Carthage, and it is here found in the Scriptures. Also relevant are Wisdom 2:24 (""But by the envy of the devil death came into the world") and 1 Cor. 15:21: "For by a man came death and by a man the resurrection of the dead." The Catholic Encyclopedia points out that this can only refer to physical death, since it is using the physical Resurrection from the dead as a contrast.

If the Scriptures clearly testify that the concept of original sin is biblical, evidence from the pre-Nicene Fathers confirms it. Though we could find several examples, those offered by St. Cyprian is especially notable because he illustrates the Catholic understanding of original sin explicitly in his Letter 58, which deals with infant baptism (a teaching repudiated by the Pelagians). In these readings, notice the assumptions Cyprian makes about infant baptism: that is communicates grace and saves souls; i.e., that it remits sin. Cyprian says:

"But in respect of the case of the infants, which you say ought not to be baptized within the second or third day after their birth, and that the law of ancient circumcision should be regarded, so that you think that one who is just born should not be baptized and sanctified within the eighth day, we all thought very differently in our council. For in this course which you thought was to be taken, no one agreed; but we all rather judge that the mercy and grace of God is not to be refused to any one born of man. For as the Lord says in His Gospel, "The Son of man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them." As far as we can we must strive that, if possible, no soul be lost. For what is wanting to him who has once been formed in the womb by the hand of God? To us, indeed, and to our eyes, according to the worldly course of days, they who are born appear to receive an increase. But whatever things are made by God, are completed by the majesty and work of God their Maker. Moreover, belief in divine Scripture declares to us, that among all, whether infants or those who are older, there is the same equality of the divine gift" (Letter 58:2-3).

But if that doesn't convince you, here is a more explicit example in which original sin is very plainly taught:

"If anything could hinder men from obtaining grace, their more heinous sins might rather hinder those who are mature and grown up and older. But again, if even to the greatest sinners, and to those who had sinned much against God, when they subsequently believed, remission of sins is granted— and nobody is hindered from baptism and from grace— how much rather ought we to shrink from hindering an infant, who, being lately born, has not sinned, except in that, being born after the flesh according to Adam, he has contracted the contagion of the ancient death at its earliest birth, who approaches the more easily on this very account to the reception of the forgiveness of sins— that to him are remitted, not his own sins, but the sins of another?" (Letter 58:5)

This letter was written around 253, so clearly this is way before Augustine and Pelagius. Yet here we have all the tenets of the doctrine of original sin - catching the "contagion" of Adam just by virtue of birth, the effect of this contagion being death, and this understood as a "sin" that comes to all who are "born of the flesh." St. Augustine himself, in refuting the Pelagians, mentions thirteen other Fathers, both Greek and Latin, who before his own time had clearly taught the doctrine of original sin, in his Contra Julianum, Book II.

Looking at the manner in which the Pelagian controversy itself played out gives further evidence that original sin was indeed taught prior to Augustine. In 411, before Augustine had even gotten involved in the Pelagian controversy (for he was still putting down the Donatist heresy), the Bishop Aurelius of Milan condemned the six main tenets of Pelagianism as heretical. The condemned propositions were:

1. Even if Adam had not sinned, he would have died.
2. Adam's sin harmed only himself, not the human race.
3. Children just born are in the same state as Adam before his fall.
4. The whole human race neither dies through Adam's sin or death, nor rises again through the resurrection of  Christ.
5. The (Mosaic Law) is as good a guide to heaven as the Gospel.
6. Even before the advent of Christ there were men who were without sin.

This condemnation was made not by one of the Church's great theological luminaries, but by a regular ordinary, who had the common sense to see immediately the heretical import of these statements. Clearly, the Catholic concept of original sin was plainly understood at this point prior to Augustine's writings on the subject.

It is interesting to see how the Church proceeded from this point on. After the condemnation of Aurelius, Caelestius, a lay-monk seeking ordination and principle teacher of the Pelagians, was summoned to appear at a synod at Carthage to retract his statements. Had original sin been not clearly taught, would he have been summoned to defend his positions? It is note worthy that Caelestius replied that Adam's sin and its consequences were still open to debate, and refused to recant. He was immediatelt excluded from ordination and his six theses condemned. So, we have the summoning of a synod to compel Caelestius to recant, the refusal of ordination and the formal condemnation of the Pelagian premises before Augustine even wrote one word on the subject. Clearly, as Church praxis here shows us, the matter was not considered "open to debate." If it was open to debate, it must have been in the same sense that modern dissenters claim that contraception and homosexuality are still "open to debate."

St. Augustine tells us that, from 411 to 412, Pelagianism began to spread rampantly around Carthage, prompting many sermons and condemnations of it by local bishops. It was not until late in 412 when Augustine finally got involved, by which time Pelagianism was already recognized as a heresy and deviation of the Catholic teaching on original sin. It was then, around 412, that St. Augustine composed On Merit and the Forgiveness of Sins, and the Baptism of Infants, where he laid out the Catholic teaching on original sin and backed it up with an appeal to the Church's practice of infant baptism. Far from inventing or bringing out original sin for the first time, Augustine was simply putting into writing what the Church already believed, as is evidenced by the manner in which the controversy was handled prior to Augustine putting pen to parchment.

Jerome condemned Pelagianism as soon as he heard of it, in 415. It is true that Pelagius was exonerated at two regional synods, but this has nothing to do with the issue being open to debate; rather it had to do, in the first case, with the Catholic defendant (Orosius) being unable to argue in Greek against Pelagius, and in the latter case of Pelagius accuser's simply not showing up to the synod.

Nevertheless, two synods, one in Carthage and one in Numidia, condemned Pelagianism, comprising over one hundred twenty six bishops. Clearly, original sin was no novelty is 126 bishops were willing to come together and issue joint condemnations. Finally, in January of 417, Pope Innocent I entered the controversy and formally condemned Pelagianism and excommunicated Pelagius and Caelestius. Another condemnation by Pope Zosimus followed in 418. Would the Bishop of Rome issue these condemnations based on a novelty of St. Augustine? In Innocent's condemnation of Pelagius, the writings of St. Augustine are not appealed to; rather, the Church's practice of infant baptism and St. Paul's letter to the Romans are. The popes condemned Pelagianism because they held the teaching of original sin to be apostolic, as judged both by Scriptural standards and the constant practice of the Church in baptizing infants.

If we look at the manner in which the Church proceeded here, with its regional synods, episcopal preaching against Pelagius, condemnation of the teachings of Caelestius, the letters of Jerome and Augustine, it is clear that the Catholic dogma of original sin was not something invented by Augustine. Was St. Augustine the most thorough expositor of the dogma up to that time? Yes. Was he called upon because of his reputation for erudition and eloquence to use his pen to explain the Catholic position? Yes. Was he fundamental in the development of the doctrine. Absolutely. Was original sin "invented" by St. Augustine, in such a way that it can be asserted that this doctrine did not exist before he defended it in writing? By no means. To assert otherwise is to misunderstand history and ignore Scripture and the Fathers.

The Etiquette of Mammon

Have you ever noticed that in our culture, at least in the United States, there is a unique little system of etiquette surrounding how we talk about money? We Americans pride ourselves on being very open when it comes to discussing any topic whatsoever; nothing is taboo, and this sometimes even becomes a fault of ours. When I lived in Austria, the local Austrians remarked on how "talkative" Americans were on a whole host of subjects. Americans are an extremely opinionated people who thoroughly resent being told to curb their language, for good or for ill.

Yet, in the past few years, I have noticed that there seems to be certain taboos in our society regarding how we talk about money with other people. I noticed this first some years ago, when I was just hired at a job. I was talking with another employee (an employee who had a completely different job than mine) and asked them how much they got paid for doing that job. They answered cordially at the time, but later I was rebuked by my boss; I found out that the employee had actually been offended by my question and had complained to the boss about it. The boss told me in no uncertain terms that it was "not appropriate" to talk about money with other employees.

Why? Perhaps it is something management prefers to keep in place so that workers don't become envious of each other in situations where there may be merit based pay? That might be so, but here it was the employee, not the boss, who was first offended, and we did non-competing jobs that weren't in a similar pay-bracket anyway. The employee was offended that I had asked about money, and the boss agreed. It is not just something fostered by employers; rather, it is something about the American workplace in general.

Okay, so we are not supposed to talk to other employees about how much we make. Other taboos: Issues relating to money can only be discussed in private with your boss. It is not appropriate to speak about money in a letter or email. It's not polite to ask a friend of yours how much he makes at his job, nor in social settings should you talk about your own income, especially if it is on the larger side. If you cannot participate in an event, it is wrong to say, "I don't have enough money to do that"; you are supposed to offer a more tactful excuse that doesn't involve money. If somebody owes you money, you can only ask them about it in person. And, speaking of "asking about money", it seems to be an unwritten rule that people who owe you money somehow end up making you feel like a jerk for asking for the money you are rightfully owed!

At any rate, I can probably think of more, but you get the picture. There are a lot of social taboos in place that seem to suggest that money is a topic we simply do not discuss in social situations. 

This doesn't make any sense to me whatsoever. Just because it is etiquette, or "good office manners" doesn't mean it is correct. The way I see it, surrounding money with these taboos and aura of unspeakability tends to raise its importance in our lives. We almost treat mammon like God, someone whose name is only to be used in certain contexts and never lightly. Should money have such a place in our society that even how to talk about it is hallowed by all these guidelines?

I think this comes from our own cultural delusion that we are a classless society of equals. In old Europe, for example, there was an obvious class system that was by and large accepted. There were rich people and everybody knew who they were - this was evident from their dress, homes, manner of living and even their speech. Moreover, their incomes, largely rent based, were a matter of public knowledge, in many cases. Think, for example, about the depiction of the wealthy of Georgian England in the Jane Austen novels. Everybody knows that Mr. Bingley is worth £5,000 per year; likewise, everybody in the whole village and presumably the whole county knows that Mr. Darcy is worth £10,000 per year. Their wealth, and even the degree of their wealth, is common knowledge, because they live in an aristocratic society where divisions based on wealth and prestige are public and an acceptable part of society.

Now take the United States, where we "threw off" our aristocracy and established a government ruled by the people and based not on wealth and privilege of birth, but common citizenship. In our society, we don't like external characteristics that remind us of wealth distinctions. It brings to mind the unhappy reminder that we are not, in fact, a classless society, but a society of great disparity of wealth. We do lack, however, many of the cultural trappings of external wealth that old Europe had. Nevertheless, to maintain the illusion that we are all just citizens who are by and large the same, we negate the issue of monetary disparity by refusing to discuss it. That's my theory, at least.

I didn't even realize how deep these taboos ran until this summer I took a temporary job with the company of a friend of mine, a very good Catholic and a very open, and frank man who lacks any of the monetary taboos I have been talking about. Well, there came a day when I was supposed to ask him about how much he was going to pay me for a certain job.At my previous job, I could never discuss such things easily or openly; they required private "meetings", sometimes much more than one and were always discussed in a very delicate way. but, to my surprise, my friend just said, "So, how much do you want?" I said, "Do you think we should talk about this in private", as we were in front of several other employees. He said, "No, we can talk about it right here." Then, and only then, did I realize how unaccustomed we are to asking for money or speaking about it openly in the company of others. Nevertheless, I did what he wanted and blurted out an amount, which was basically agreed to immediately. It was so easy. Money was really no big deal to him, at least as far as talking about it is concerned.

I think we ought to not have so much sensitivity in the way we speak of this subject; it just gives it more importance than it needs to have. If you need money, ask for it. If you can't afford it, say "It's too expensive." If someone asks you what you make, why not tell them? And don't get offended if somebody asks you. Don't get all touchy is somebody wants to discuss money; it's really not that big of a deal. And, if you owe somebody money, don't try to make them feel like an idiot for asking; you are the one that needs to be humble because you are the debtor; the creditor can ask for his money any way he wants, by letter, email, phone call or in person. I'm not against manners, but I am against stupid taboos that are propagated under the auspices of etiquette.

What of priestly obedience?

First the Fr. Corapi debacle, now Fr. Pavone. Two different priests with different apostolates and different sorts of "falls", yet both undoubtedly tarnished and caught up in scandals that have irreparably sullied their reputations. Yet whatever side one takes on these current events, they are most certainly made worse by what, in my opinion, is a shocking lack of obedience on the part of the priests involved. 

I am not here interested in narrating the details of the Fr. Corapi case or the Fr. Pavone case; I presume my readership to be well enough acquainted with them. At any rate, I use these cases not to make any specific claims about either but to illustrate a general principle - namely, that there seems to be a particular Americanized concept of obedience in play here that sees obedience as justly refused if we subjectively believe our "rights" are being trampled on. Fr. Corapi, in denying legitimate requests from his superiors and bishop and choosing to leave the priesthood rather than submit, and Fr. Pavone, in appealing his case to Rome over the head of his ordinary, seem to be operating on a concept of obedience that is more concerned with asserting their personal rights rather than seeking holiness.

There is a great little book by Fr. Leo Pyzalski, C.S.S.R., called The Holy Will of God, published by TAN books. In this excellent little booklet, Fr. Pyzalski talks about various aspects of submitting to God's will in our life and points out that priests and religious are called to a different kind of obedience than average lay persons. It is an heroic obedience that demands a resignation of our claims to our "rights." Fr. Pyzalski states:

"Those trusted with leadership and administration of religious communities are vested with Divine authority, since they are appointed representatives of God. Hence, the attitude of subjects is expected to be one of sincere and humble deference and childlike docility towards all legitimate Superiors. This is something quite different from modern democracy.

People who join a religious order [or the priesthood] are perfectly aware of the way of life they choose for themselves...they renounce in advance all claims to democratic participation in the administration and spiritual guidance of the whole religious body. They consciously sacrifice their personal liberty, their own will, to please God and to render Him more glory" (Pyzalski, The Holy Will of God, pg. 6-7)

Fr. Pyzalski goes on to say that this obedience is much easier professed with the mouth than acted upon, for as soon as a trial or obstacle crops up, there is a temptation to withhold obedience:

"Particularly, in our day of ultra-democratic tendencies is this likely to happen and, indeed, does happen frequently. Self-will takes the place of humble and cheerful obedience. As long as Superiors adjust their directions to the likes and dislikes of their subjects, they are praised and cherished and obeyed promptly. Whenever the contrary occurs, they will be blamed, at least very often, of imprudence, ruthlessness or lack of charity. Allegedly, Superiors "forget" that all members of the community have the same rights since they are bound by the same religious profession" (ibid, 7-8).

Fr. Pyzalski's next comments are especially pertinent to the Fr. Pavone case, which as Ed Peters seems to have proven clearly, is a case of a priest gradually assuming the attitude that his social work, however important it might be, is more important than his priestly ministry and the glory of God. Fr. Pavone has called Pro-Life work "the core of my life", to which Dr. Peters rightly responds, "Something is seriously askew here. Nothing, not even the most visible (and arguably the most effective) pro-life work in the world, is at the “core” of any priest’s life; nothing is there, besides the High Priest Jesus Christ. That is no pious platitude. For any priest, religious or diocesan, to assert before the world that anything is at the core of his life besides the Son of God is very disturbing. "

Fr. Pyzalski says the same thing, reminding us that any social work a priest does must be subordinated to his identity as an ordained (or a religious), and that this identity is ultimately governed by the will of one's legitimate Superiors. He goes on:

"The first and most essential task of every religious community [or priest] is the imitation of our Lord Jesus Christ. Social, educational, or similar work is not the supreme task...it is only a means to further God's glory...To perform any social work whatsoever without regarding God's glory and the teaching of Jesus Christ [on obedience], the Supreme Master of mankind, would be incompatible with religious obligations and the religious character in general.

After losing the spirit of Christ, which is one of filial docility towards God and His representatives, a religious order is but a poor makeshift of what it ought to be. It cannot expect Divine blessings on its activities, nor real happiness in its members" (ibid., 8-9).

In short, the traditional Catholic teaching on obedience is that obedience is due to all lawful superiors at all times, and that virtue and holiness of character is developed and proven especially when the obedience is due unjustly, or demanded with a heavy hand, or when one suffers some humiliation because of it. To refuse obedience, or even to simply use litigation to get around obedience by asserting one's "rights" and appealing over the head of one's superior, might not be sinful, but it is a demonstration of a very poorly formed idea of obedience...of a life that is more centered on what one wants to do rather than on what should be done in obedience. It reveals a problem with willfulness.

There is much more that could be said. Bottom line: obedience is due in all circumstances unless it is an unjust command (by unjust, I mean one that commands what is sinful). Other than that, even if a priest believes he is in the right, even if "his" ministry is on the line, even if millions of dollars are wrapped up in it, the priest owes complete and total obedience to his superiors.

The sad tales of Fr. Corapi and Fr. Pavone should also furnish us with ample evidence to suggest that priests should probably not become "celebrities" who are independently wealthy. It just...doesn't work out very well.

Click here to purchase Fr.. Pyzalski's book The Holy Will of God!

Update on Website

Hey everybody! Just an update on the new website - I have been working on it for the latter part of the summer and am finally getting comfortable with the interface. It's going to take awhile before it is live; but in the meantime, I had mentioned that I wanted to get a few more contributors. I am looking right now for a couple of articles to add - theology, history, spirituality, economics, whatever. I'm going to go through the whole idea again; I have already mentioned this all here. If you have something to send that you think is good enough to be posted, please send it to me. Leave your name and email in this combox (I won't post it).

Pax.

St. Cyprian on Disciplined Prayer

In honor of the Feast of Sts. Cornelius and Cyprian, which we celebrated yesterday (September 16th), let us look at Cyprian's excellent Treatise on the Lord's Prayer, where he speaks of a topic that is very relevant today vis-a-vis the discussions between traditionalist and charismatic Catholics on the proper posture for prayer. Rather than preface the saint, I will just let him speak for himself:

"Let our speech and petition when we pray be under discipline, observing quietness and modesty. Let us consider that we are standing in God's sight. We must please the divine eyes both with the habit of body and with the measure of voice. For as it is characteristic of a shameless man to be noisy with his cries, so, on the other hand, it is fitting to the modest man to pray with moderated petitions. Moreover, in His teaching the Lord has bidden us to pray in secret— in hidden and remote places, in our very bed-chambers— which is best suited to faith, that we may know that God is everywhere present, and hears and sees all, and in the plenitude of His majesty penetrates even into hidden and secret places, as it is written, "I am a God at hand, and not a God afar off. If a man shall hide himself in secret places, shall I not then see him? Do not I fill heaven and earth?" (Jer. 23:23-24) And again: "The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good." (Prov. 15:3)

And when we meet together with the brethren in one place, and celebrate divine sacrifices with God's priest, we ought to be mindful of modesty and discipline— not to throw abroad our prayers indiscriminately, with unsubdued voices, nor to cast to God with tumultuous wordiness a petition that ought to be commended to God by modesty; for God is the hearer, not of the voice, but of the heart. Nor need He be clamorously reminded, since He sees men's thoughts, as the Lord proves to us when He says, "Why do you think evil in your hearts?" (Matt. 9:4) And in another place: "And all the churches shall know that I am He that searches the hearts and reins" (Rev. 2:23) [Treatise on the Lord's Prayer, 4]

What can we say? Although Cyprian obviously reminds us that God searches the hearts and is not impressed by bodily movements, he also states that when we "celebrate divine sacrifices with God's priest", there are nevertheless certain  postures and gestures which are more fitting for divine worship; namely, those that are done under discipline. In case we misunderstand what he means by discipline, he goes on to contrast the moderate, disciplined prayer of the godly man with the prayer of the "shameless" man, who prays with "noisy cries" and "throws abroad" his prayers indiscriminately with "wordy" petitions. We see then that, at least as far as Cyprian is concerned, the sort of prayer services or liturgies that commonly go under the phrase "charismatic" these days would not have met with the approval of the famous bishop-martyr of Carthage.

This is also an important citation because, according to some, the pre-Nicene Church was more fluid and charismatic in their liturgies. The liturgy did not become "crystallized" in any sort of rigid form until after Nicaea. While it is true that the liturgical rubrics were more fluid in the patristic age than in later ages, it certainly does not follow that therefore the worship of the Church was entirely devoid of order. As St. Cyprian states here, the liturgies he celebrated and extolled as the norm for the Church were somber, disciplined, affairs, imbued with a spirit of order and reverent silence.

"Let all things be done decently and according to order" (1 Cor. 14:40).

Authority Over Demons in the Early Church

Some time ago, I did a post addressing whether or not saints could be possessed by the devil. The topic was brought to my attention by some statements in Fr. Gabriel Amorth's book on exorcism in which he related several stories of canonized saints who had apparently been possessed by the devil, though by no fault of their own.

I took issue with Fr. Amorth, suggesting that it seemed very improbably that a soul that was truly sanctified could be open to demonic possession, as well as doubting whether imposing satanic possession upon a believer would ever be God's will. Many of my readers disagreed with me, which is totally fine; this is highly speculative, and there are purported cases of it in Church history. I also made sure to keep my comments very speculative due to my ignorance on matters relating to exorcism.

That being said, I still take great issue with the concept that  a person with a eminent degree of sanctity can be possessed by the devil. I have spent a lot of time since the last post researching this, and knowing that the Fathers of the Church had a very keen understanding of exorcism and a firm belief in the reality of demons (unlike many modern theologians), I decided to see if the Fathers had any comment on this issue of believers being subject to demonic possession.

What I have found is that, with no exceptions that I know of, the Church Fathers do not believe that believers  (true believers) can be possessed by the devil, and that freedom from and authority over the devil are one of the marks of a true Christian. They also assert that possession always results from some fault on the part of the possessed; either they are mired in sin, apostates, worshiping pagan gods, or else frequenting places where demons are especially active.

In the first place, if we look at the works of Justin Martyr and Tertullian, we can find many statements testifying to the patristic belief in the authority of the common Christian over the demons and the freedom of the Christian from their power. Though these quotes do not mention exorcism or possession directly, they reflect the common view in the early Church that Christians, walking in the power of the Spirit, always had authority over the evil one:

St. Justin Martyr: "For we do continually beseech God by Jesus Christ to preserve us from the demons which are hostile to the worship of God, and whom we of old time served, in order that, after our conversion by Him to God, we may be blameless. For we call Him Helper and Redeemer, the power of whose name even the demons do fear; and at this day, when they are exorcised in the name of Jesus Christ, crucified under Pontius Pilate, governor of Judæa, they are overcome. And thus it is manifest to all, that His Father has given Him so great power, by virtue of which demons are subdued to His name, and to the dispensation of His suffering" (Dialogue With Trypho, 30).

Servitude to the demons is a sign of bondage to sin. A hallmark of Christian freedom, of Christ's atoning death, is that the believer is not only freed from demonic possession but has authority over them. This would not make any sense if we could postulate that sometimes holy saints can be in bondage to demons.

Tertullian: "For, though the whole power of demons and kindred spirits is subject to us, yet still, as ill-disposed slaves sometimes conjoin contumacy with fear, and delight to injure those of whom they at the same time stand in awe, so is it here" (Apology, 27).

"Now if Socrates was pronounced the wisest of men by the oracle of the Pythian demon, which, you may be sure, neatly managed the business for his friend, of how much greater dignity and constancy is the assertion of the Christian wisdom, before the very breath of which the whole host of demons is scattered!" (Treatise on the Soul, 1).

"For God, Creator of the universe, has no need of odors or of blood. These things are the food of devils. But we not only reject those wicked spirits: we overcome them; we daily hold them up to contempt; we exorcise them from their victims, as multitudes can testify" (Ad Scapula, 2).

The demons, for Justin and Tertullian, are to be held up to scorn and contempt through their public exorcism. The power of the name of Christ over the demons seems to be a sign of Christ's general triumph; the Christian victory over demonic possession is an attribute of Christ's victory over Satan. Once we see this connection, it seems very unlikely that the Fathers would support the concept of a Christian being possessed by a devil as part of God's will, much less a Christian of eminent sanctity. The personal triumph over demons and a Christian's protection from them are intimately bound up with Christ's victory at the cross. To suggest that holy Christians can be possessed would seem to undermine this, or that's the way the Fathers would see things.

If we go on to some of the later writings, of Cyprian, Origen, Lactantius, the Apostolic Constitutions, we see that this concept of the Christian's power over the demons if developed into a theology of the general freedom of a Christian (a "true Christian", as Origen says) from demonic possession. But first, let's continue with Tertullian, who has two more interesting quotes:

"Do you fear man, O Christian?— you who ought to be feared by the angels, since you are to judge angels; who ought to be feared by evil spirits, since you have received power also over evil spirits" (De Fuga in Persecutione, 9). 

The evil spirits are in the power of the Christian; therefore, Christians have nothing to fear from them. This seems to preclude any notion that the Christian can fall under demonic possession.

"We have the case of the woman— the Lord Himself is witness— who went to the theatre, and came back possessed. In the outcasting, accordingly, when the unclean creature was upbraided with having dared to attack a believer, he firmly replied, And in truth I did it most righteously, for I found her in my domain (De Spectaculis, 26).

This is an interesting example, because the case is related of a Christian woman who was frequenting the pagan games and was possessed by a demon while at the amphitheater, which the demon refers to as "my domain." The demon's words seem to suggest that, while lawful possession can occur if a person is in a demon's "domain", demonic possession of believers who are not in that demon's domain would be "unlawful." It is hard to make a clear, dogmatic point based on something a demon said (although traditionally demons during exorcism are compelled to tell the truth), but it is interesting to think about.

Origen dealt with the issue of demonic possession extensively in his apology to the pagan Celsus. His quotes are long, but worth looking into at length:

Origen: "And Christians have nothing to fear, even if demons should not be well-disposed to them; for they are protected by the Supreme God, who is well pleased with their piety, and who sets His divine angels to watch over those who are worthy of such guardianship, so that they can suffer nothing from demons. He who by his piety possesses the favor of the Most High, who has accepted the guidance of Jesus, the Angel of the great counsel, being well contented with the favor of God through Christ Jesus, may say with confidence that he has nothing to suffer from the whole host of demons" (Contra Celsus, Book VIII:27).

The believer has "nothing to suffer" from the demons, and this may be said "with confidence." A sign of one's belonging to Christ is angelic protection from demonic possession, and this is established through the mandate of God. This does not mean that devils may not attack believers (as we see in the case of St. John Vianney, for example), but it does seem to preclude any concept of a demon gaining entrance into a Christian and possessing them, since this protection seems to be extended more to those who "are worthy of such guardianship." He goes on:

"We do not, then, deny that there are many demons upon earth, but we maintain that they exist and exercise power among the wicked, as a punishment of their wickedness. But they have no power over those who have put on the whole armor of God, who have received strength to withstand the wiles of the devil, and who are ever engaged in contests with them, knowing that we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places  (ibid., 34).

Here is where Origen would take issue with Fr. Amorth. Fr. Amorth suggests that demons can exercise power over Christians if this is the will of God; Origen, like the other Fathers, states that true Christians are immune from this sort of thing and that those who are in the power of the demons are those who are "among the wicked" and receive demonic possession "as a punishment of their wickedness." The demons have "no power" among those who have put on God's armor. Continuing on, Origen says:

"But the angels, who are the true rulers and generals and ministers of God, do not, as Celsus supposes, injure those who offend them; and if certain demons, whom Celsus had in mind, do inflict evils, they show that they are wicked, and that they have received no office of the kind from God. And they even do injury to those who are under them, and who have acknowledged them as their masters; and accordingly, as it would seem that those who break through the regulations which prevail in any country in regard to matters of food, suffer for it if they are under the demons of that place, while those who are not under them, and have not submitted to their power, are free from all harm, and bid defiance to such spirits; although if, in ignorance of certain things, they have come under the power of other demons, they may suffer punishment from them. But the Christian— the true Christian, I mean— who has submitted to God alone and His Word, will suffer nothing from demons, for He is mightier than demons. And the Christian will suffer nothing, for the angel of the Lord will encamp about them that fear Him, and will deliver them, and his angel, who always beholds the face of his Father in heaven, offers up his prayers through the one High Priest to the God of all, and also joins his own prayers with those of the man who is committed to his keeping. Let not, then, Celsus try to scare us with threats of mischief from demons, for we despise them. And the demons, when despised, can do no harm to those who are under the protection of Him who can alone help all who deserve His aid; and He does no less than set His own angels over His devout servants, so that none of the hostile angels, nor even he who is called the prince of this world, can effect anything against those who have given themselves to God" (ibid., 36).

Very clearly, Origen sets forth the principle that the protection of the Christian from the demons is bound up with Christ's own lordship over the elect, and that consequently, not even Satan himself "can effect anything against those who have given themselves to God."

Next, Origen compares the oracles of the Pythian priestess at Delphi with the ministry of exorcism performed by the Christians:

"If, then, the Pythian priestess is beside herself when she prophesies, what spirit must that be which fills her mind and clouds her judgment with darkness, unless it be of the same order with those demons which many Christians cast out of persons possessed with them? And this, we may observe, they do without the use of any curious arts of magic, or incantations, but merely by prayer and simple adjurations which the plainest person can use. Because for the most part it is unlettered persons who perform this work; thus making manifest the grace which is in the word of Christ, and the despicable weakness of demons, which, in order to be overcome and driven out of the bodies and souls of men, do not require the power and wisdom of those who are mighty in argument, and most learned in matters of faith" (Contra Celsus, Book VII:4).

I thought this quotation was interesting because it attested to the reality of lay-exorcisms in the patristic era (which I don't think would be a wise thing to return to now), but more so, because it demonstrates that power over and freedom from the demons was not seen as restricted to the clergy or the eminently saintly, but to even the rank and file of the Church.

St. Cyprian of Carthage goes on step further and explicitly denies the possibility of the demons inhabiting the body of one who has been baptized:

Cyprian: "The obstinate wickedness of the devil prevails even up to the saving water, but that in baptism it loses all the poison of his wickedness...when, however, they come to the water of salvation and to the sanctification of baptism, we ought to know and to trust that there the devil is beaten down, and the man, dedicated to God, is set free by the divine mercy. For as scorpions and serpents, which prevail on the dry ground, when cast into water, cannot prevail nor retain their venom; so also the wicked spirits, which are called scorpions and serpents, and yet are trodden under foot by us, by the power given by the Lord, cannot remain any longer in the body of a man in whom, baptized and sanctified, the Holy Spirit is beginning to dwell" (Epistle 75:15).

The demons "cannot remain any longer in the body of a man in whom...the Holy Spirit is beginning to dwell." This summarizes my thought on this aptly. Like the other Fathers, Cyprian sees freedom from sin as expressed by freedom from the devil; he knows nothing of any concept of people being sanctified in their soul but possessed in their bodies. The Spirit and the demons cannot share the same frame, and this applies to every Christian who lives in a state of grace ("true Christians", as Origen says).

Let us move on to Lactantius, who wrote around the period of Diocletian's persecution:

Lactantius: "For they think that those demons profit them when they cease to injure, whereas they have no power except to injure. Some one may perchance say that they are therefore to be worshiped, that they may not injure, since they have the power to injure. They do indeed injure, but those only by whom they are feared, whom the powerful and lofty hand of God does not protect, who are uninitiated in the mystery of truth. But they fear the righteous, that is, the worshipers of God, adjured by whose name they depart from the bodies of the possessed: for, being lashed by their words as though by scourges, they not only confess themselves to be demons, but even utter their own names— those which are adored in the temples— which they generally do in the presence of their own worshipers; not, it is plain, to the disgrace of religion, but to the disgrace of their own honor, because they cannot speak falsely to God, by whom they are adjured, nor to the righteous, by whose voice they are tortured. Therefore ofttimes having uttered the greatest howlings, they cry out that they are beaten, and are on fire, and that they are just on the point of coming forth: so much power has the knowledge of God, and righteousness! Whom, therefore, can they injure, except those whom they have in their own power? In short, Hermes [pagan pseudonymic author Hermes Tresmegistus] affirms that those who have known God are not only safe from the attacks of demons, but that they are not even bound by fate" (Divine Institutes, Book II:16).

Lactantius repeats the teaching of Cyprian that Christians are "safe from the attacks of demons" and that those who suffer from the demons are those "who by whom they are feared"; i.e., those who, either through their disbelief or sinful lifestyles, are in the power of the devil, who are "in his dominion."

Finally, we have the Apostolic Constitutions, which, while not mentioning the issue of whether believers can be possessed or not, states that the power of exorcism was exercised (pun intended) by the common rank and file:

Apostolic Constitutions: "An exorcist is not ordained. For it is a trial of voluntary goodness, and of the grace of God through Christ by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. For he who has received the gift of healing is declared by revelation from God, the grace which is in him being manifest to all. But if there be occasion for him, he must be ordained a bishop, or a presbyter, or a deacon" (Apostolic Constitutions, 26).

The purpose of stating that an exorcist is not ordained in the early Church is in that is signifies that "the plainest person" has power over the devils, which is a form of "making manifest the grace which is in the word of Christ." Freedom from devils, including freedom from demonic possession, was seen as the common inheritance of all Christians.

In the end, it seems to me that the Church Fathers are completely against the idea that any true Christian can be possessed, let alone a saint. That this is their consensus, I think, is undeniable.

Here is the problem. The Fathers all agree that Christians are "free" from the "power" of the devil, but they do not really define what it means to be "free" from the devil's power. Clearly, the devil has a limited amount of accessibility to us that is granted by God, as evidenced not only by the Book of Job, but by Church History (the devil's attacks on St. John Bosco, St. John Vianney, etc). The question is how far this access of the devil to us extends. Fr. Amorth seems to say that it can extend indefinitely, even to the point of exorcism, while I, and it seems the Fathers, contend that this power seems to stop short of full-blown exorcism.

Of course, none of this solves the problem of whether or not God might permit such a thing, which is what some have asserted. The Fathers all agree that Christians have nothing to fear from the evil one, and that Christians have power over devils, but what if God, for some unknown purpose, seeks to temporarily suspend or withhold His protection, as He did in the case of Job? I suppose there is no way to know; I generally do not to take a stand on something like this based on private revelations, even those made by saints. All I can say is that it seems like the Christian freedom from Satan is so closely bound up with Christ's work of redemption, as evidenced by the writings of the Fathers, that possession of a Christian by the devil seems to be outside of the realm of what God would will.

Obviously God is not opposed to Christians being humbled, or undergoing humiliating circumstances on this earth, but bodily subjection seems to be a sort of humiliation or subjection that is of a different order, something abhorrent to God and outside of the will of Him who "appeared for this purpose, to destroy the works of the devil.” (1 John 3:8).

This is just my opinion and I admit I may be wrong.

Law and Tradition

In two weeks, all of the dioceses in the U.K. will reinstate the pre-Vatican II law requiring (not recommending) but requiring abstinence of meat on Fridays. This is a very welcome development from a region of the Church that is known for its wackiness and extremely progressive tendencies. We should all applaud this move by the British bishops as a step in the right direction and pray that such measures would be contemplated and enacted by their American counterparts.

How often have we all wished that the bishops of the world and the Holy Father would take definitive stands for the restoration of tradition! Imagine if this directive was followed up by another directive forbidding communion in the hand, or abolishing altar girls, or forcefully asking the bishops to stop relegating all the major feast days to Sunday, or forbidding drums in Mass, mandating chant, etc. How we would rejoice?

But, for the sake of argument, let me pose a question: Were all these things to take place, were the Magisterium to do nothing for the next two years other than legislate against abuses and forcefully impose traditional Catholicism, would Tradition be restored?

My answer is no. Tradition, in its fullest sense, cannot be restored by force of law. The loss of tradition was permitted by a relaxation of law, but a constricting of the law is not enough to bring Tradition back. Imagine a tank full of water that has a hole in it. The hole in the tank may certainly have allowed the water to seep out over time, but once the water is gone, repairing the hole will not bring the water back. Repairing the hole is integral in preparing the tank to receive water again, but we cannot be deluded into thinking that repairing the hole alone is sufficient to restore what was lost.

There are two elements to restoring Catholic Tradition and Catholic culture: one, of course, is the restoration of discipline from the top down. This involves the Magisterium being a bit more assertive in cracking down on abuses, restoring practices that have fallen into disuses, and backing up its wishes with canonical legislation, if necessary. The second element, however, is a docile and obedient flock who have hearts that are truly converted and are already predisposed to live out the full expression of Catholicism within their homes and spheres of influence.

Even if we were to have all the legislation and "top down" changes we all desire, unless they were embraced by a flock willing to put them in to practice, we cannot really say Tradition has been restored. Certainly we would be a lot better off than where we are now; perhaps some such moves on the part of the Magisterium would "trim the fat" of the Church by encouraging people who are Catholics in name only to "sh*t or get off the pot," so to say.

Even so, we as Traditionalists cannot become legalists. We cannot imagine that a true restoration of our culture can be simply imposed from above. That would be a very important step, just like it is an important step in refilling the tank to first repair the hole. But culture cannot be regained in the same manner it was lost. Though we speak of culture being "restored", in actuality we have to start over. With great care and intentionality we have to cherish and nurture a cultural and spiritual heritage that may not yet be a tradition for ourselves or our kids but will one day be so if it is faithfully passed on. This homegrown expansion of Catholic culture will be solidified, reinforced and given direction by a Magisterium that legislates in favor of discipline and tradition rather than against it.

There are two sides to this issue - one that comes from above, and one that comes up from below. We have to realize that both are necessary. Unless we personally are forming Catholic culture in our homes and families, we can't expect the Magisterium to form it by passing some new directives. Unless we are obedient, we can't expect new demands for obedience to be heeded. Unless we are pious, we cannot expect new legislation to create piety (though it can reinforce it).

I will share a personal story, the sort of which I do not usually share on here. Several years ago, perhaps around 2003, I was attending Mass at a local parish. It was one of those days when someone was sick, I had to stay home in the morning and catch a Sunday evening Mass to make up for it. Well, the liturgy was terrible. Music awful. People in tank-tops, Daisy-dukes, flip flops, etc. Priest gave an awful homily. Scores of people leaving Mass after communion. It was a disaster.

As I sat praying after communion, I was lamenting to God about the sad state of things in this parish, essentially complaining about the lack of reverence and extraordinarily shallow spirituality. I was pleading with God to renew His Church and wondering why the priests and bishops allowed this sort of thing. Then God spoke to my heart in a very firm manner, a manner in which one has a fair degree of moral certainty that the Holy Spirit is telling you something. He said to me, "If you think the Church lacks piety, you be pious. If Catholics do not pray enough, you pray. If there is a lack of reverence, you be reverent. If they there is a lack of penance, you do penance."

I don't think the message was that other people do not need to reform or that the Church on the institutional level doesn't need to make some serious changes; the point was that renewal starts with the individual. Laws and disciplines given by the Church are given for the purpose of building up and empowering individual Catholics to have a more dynamic relationship with the Lord and make true success in pursuing holiness.

I applaud the bishops of the U.K. for reintstating the Friday fast. But with what we know about the state of the Church in the U.K., how will this legislation play out when the people there are so poorly formed? No doubt it will beneficial to some; no doubt it is a step in the right direction. But unless we have true conversion from our hearts, we will find these sorts of legislation always bringing us up short of where we want to be.

Petros vs. Petra: A Non-Argument

Most of you are probably familiar with the argument raised by non-Catholics about Peter being called the "Rock" in Matthew 16 that is based upon drawing a distinction between the two Greek words petra and petros. If you are not familiar with this argument, Google it and you'll come up with a lot of material on it from Protestant and Catholic apologists. I think it is a rather weak argument; Patrick Madrid has dealt with it admirably here. Catholic Answers has a helpful tract about the topic as well, and Steve Ray's book Upon This Rock uses a plethora of sources, including Protestant scholarship, to dismantle this common Protestant objection.

These approaches that are based on etymology and grammar are helpful, but I do not necessarily think they are the strongest arguments. For one thing, unless you personally know Greek, or at the very least understand how inflected languages work, you won't really "get" the argument; you basically have to take somebody's word for it. When you start getting into arguments about inflected versus reflexive languages, Attic versus Koine Greek and word studies of other appearances of petros and petra in ancient Greek literature, you are perhaps moving out of the realm of where lay people can intelligently discuss the problem and into a place reserved to only a very small field of specialists.

I want to here propose two very strong arguments against the petros/petra objection that are based not on grammatical exegesis or etymology, but on history, and which, to my knowledge, has not been brought up by any Catholic apologists to date. My response to the Protestant petros/petra objection is as follows:

1. GREEK ORTHODOX NEVER USED THIS ARGUMENT

This is tremendously important. If anybody had a reason to deny papal authority or the Roman Catholic interpretation of Matthew 16, it would have been the Greek Orthodox. From the 5th century all the way through the Middle Ages the Greeks contested the papacy's claims over authority over the Church of God. Since this was the case, and since the Greeks, especially of the earlier centuries, were reading the Scriptures in their original languages, does it not stand to reason that if there was any import to Christ's use of the words petra and petros in Matthew 16, the Greeks would have noticed it? If such a distinction really did have the import that Protestants say it does, this argument would have been invaluable in the hands of the Greek apologists in the contest with Rome for primacy.

But, since the Greeks who read the New Testament in its original language and had a vested interest in debunking the claims of Rome to primacy never utilized this argument, their silence is telling. They attack Roman primacy, to be sure, but they never use the petros/petra argument. Instead they talk about the union between Church and Empire and Constantinople being the imperial seat; they talk about a fictional apostolic succession based on a legendary founding of the Byzantine Church by St. Andrew the Apostle; they bring forward different ecclesiological interpretations of what kind of primacy St. Peter was given; they drudge up the old canards of Vigilius and Honorious; but they never resorted to the petros/petra argument (at least until modern times, when they borrowed it from Protestants). If classical Greek Orthodox polemic at its height never utilized this argument, we are safe in presuming there never was an argument there to be utilized.

2. MARTIN LUTHER NEVER USED THIS ARGUMENT

We can go ahead and use this same sort of reasoning when we come to Martin Luther. Here, once again, we have a man with a solid knowledge of New Testament Greek (who even made his own German translation of the NT) and a vested interest in disproving Rome's claims to primacy. If there really was any sort of argument to be made by the petros/petra distinction, Martin Luther was the person to notice it. Yet Luther does not use this argument either.

He certainly attacks the papacy; he uses selective citations from the Fathers, heaps abuse upon the Roman pontiffs for alleged excessive use of power and even fabricates a variant reading of Matthew 16 where Jesus says to Peter "You are a rock" but then turns and points to Himself before saying, "Upon this rock I will build my Church," thus inferring some sort of extra-biblical gesture or motion of our Lord to explain away the passage. Yet, though he has gone so far as imagine an invented extra-biblical gesture to explain our Lord's words, he does not center in on petros/petra as a point of argument. This is because he knew there was no argument there.


I am not sure when the petros/petra argument first came into vogue; my guess is sometime around the early 20th century with the rise of the historical critical school. But the fact that neither the Greek Orthodox or Martin Luther ever used the argument, though they had the knowledge of Greek and the motivation against the papacy to do so, ought to be a clear reminder that this argument is just a fabrication - a non-argument.

I'll have more to say about petros and petra in the future, but that's enough for now.

The Homosexual Compromise

We all know there is a problem with rampant homosexuality in many of our seminaries. This much is beyond dispute and does not need to be reiterated here; it is documented thoroughly in Donald Cozzens' book The Changing Face of the Priesthood and more famously in Michael Rose's Goodbye, Good Men, which I recently read through for the first time, though I had heard about it for many years.

Besides the problem with open, flamboyant homosexuality in the seminaries, which I am obviously alarmed at, I am equally put off by what I consider to be a compromise with homosexuality. I am referring to the position that, while a dissenting, openly practicing homosexual is an unsuitable candidate for the priesthood, an orthodox man who has homosexual tendencies but keeps them to himself and does not try to act on them is suitable; i.e., a homosexual "living chastely."

I seriously disagree with the idea that the only difference between a suitable homosexual candidate and an unsuitable one is whether they are living chastely or not. Homosexuals should not be ordained at all. Period. Chaste or not. If you are a man who is sexually aroused by other men, you should simply not be ordained. I find it astounding that some orthodox Catholics believe that ordination of homosexuals would be fine so long as they weren't engaging in homosexual activities. Why is this?

In my opinion, it is due to the distinction the Catechism makes between homosexual acts and homosexual tendencies. If we are looking at the problem from a standpoint of sin, the CCC rightly points out that while it is always sinful to engage in homosexual acts, it is not necessarily sinful to be afflicted with homosexual tendencies, and that persons with homosexual inclinations can approach "Christian perfection" if they stive after chastity and practice self-mastery (CCC 2359).

Some, I think, see this as a tacit acceptance of homosexual orientation as a neutral trait, or even a positive one, so long as it is not acted upon. Perhaps this is seen by some as a via media between the liberal total acceptance of the homosexual lifestyle and what is often perceived as a "homophobic" rejection of homosexuals as persons. It constitutes a compromise whereby one is able to justify supporting a certain presence of "good" homosexuals in the priesthood while condemning the more flamboyant ones.

This compromise is problematic. It must be remembered, that not only homosexual acts, but the inclination itself is "objectively disordered" (CCC 2358), and this applies whether or not it is acted upon. Homosexuality is a moral disorder; it may be that one is afflicted with it unwillingly, but that does not make it any less disordered. Even if they are not acting out upon it, do we want persons with "objectively disordered" characters as priests?

If this sounds harsh, it is actually pretty much what the Church has always taught on this issue. Religiosorum Institutio, issued by the Sacred Congregation for Religious in 1961, stated that, "Advantage to religious vows and ordination should be barred to those who are afflicted with evil tendencies to homosexuality or pederasty, since for them the common life and the priestly ministry would constitute serious dangers" (RI, 4). Not only active homosexuals, but even persons "afflicted with evil tendencies to homosexuality" are barred.

More recently, the Vatican's 2005 directive on this matter, cumbersomely titled Instruction Concerning the Criteria for the Discernment of Vocations with regard to Persons with Homosexual Tendencies in view of their Admission to the Seminary and to Holy Orders, says that Bishops "cannot admit to the seminary or to holy orders those who practise homosexuality, present deep-seated homosexual tendencies or support the so-called "gay culture" (2).

The same directive goes on to say that anyone who has been afflicted with homosexual tendencies in the past needs to "clearly overcome" them at least three years prior to even entering seminary. This is not referring to homosexual acts, but homosexual tendencies, even those that, as the document says, are "only the expression of a transitory problem" (2). Interestingly enough, the document's first section on spiritual fatherhood and maturity suggests that those who struggle with homosexual tendencies cannot be said to have attained "affective maturity" and cannot thus become proper father figures (1). Therefore, the problem with homosexual candidates, even chaste ones, is one of immaturity, not necessarily of sin.

Pope Pius XI made an interesting observation in his encyclical on the priesthood, Ad Catholici Sacerdotii (1935) on the connection between chaste celibacy and God's nature as a Spirit. He wrote:

"A certain connection between this virtue and the sacerdotal ministry can be seen even by the light of reason alone: since "God is a Spirit," it is only fitting that he who dedicates and consecrates himself to God's service should in some way "divest himself of the body." The ancient Romans perceived this fitness; one of their laws which ran Ad divos adeunto caste, "approach the gods chastely," is quoted by one of their greatest orators with the following comment: "The law orders us to present ourselves to the gods in chastity -- of spirit, that is, in which are all things, or does this exclude chastity of the body, which is to be understood, since the spirit is so far superior to the body; for it should be remembered that bodily chastity cannot be preserved, unless spiritual chastity be maintained."

In the Old Law, Moses in the name of God commanded Aaron and his sons to remain within the Tabernacle, and so to keep continent, during the seven days in which they were exercising their sacred functions. But the Christian priesthood, being much superior to that of the Old Law, demanded a still greater purity..." (Ad Catholic Sacerdotii, 42-43).

Bodily chastity, inside and out, is required because we are approaching a Being Who is pure spirit. But more so, the bodily chastity is dependent upon and presupposes a spiritual chastity. Can one be said to maintain spiritual chastity while afflicted with homosexual tendencies that are themselves "objectively disordered?" Obviously not. This would apply to heterosexual persons as well if they were unable to "divest themselves of the body" and overcome their sexual inclinations. It is true regardless of sexual orientation, but it needs to be emphasized with regards to homosexuals, because too often homosexuals are given a pass and praised as suitable priestly candidates so long as they maintain bodily chastity.

In 2008, Cardinal Bertone, at the behest of Benedict XVI, issued a clarification of the 2005 directive, stating that it was to be applied universally to all seminaries and houses of religious formation in the Catholic world. No homosexuals are to be admitted to the priesthood or religious life. Period. Whether they act out or not. Homosexual tendencies constitute a real obstacle to priestly ministry because they skewer proper relations between persons. The 2005 directive states, "Such persons, in fact, find themselves in a situation that gravely hinders them from relating correctly to men and women. One must in no way overlook the negative consequences that can derive from the ordination of persons with deep-seated homosexual tendencies" (1).

We also should not fail to take into account that the admission of homosexuals to the priesthood, even orthodox, chaste homosexuals, will tend to reinforce the idea of the priesthood as a "gay vocation." Chaste homosexuals often have a difficult time integrating their faith life with their personal struggles; to the degree that the priesthood is seen as an appropriate avenue for them, it will encourage more homosexuals to pursue ordination and, consequently, drive away heterosexual candidates who will increasingly view the priesthood as something for homosexuals.

In light of the statements and insights provided to us by the current and previous Magisteriums, I can't see any justification for any sort of compromise with homosexuality that allows homosexuals into the priesthood so long as they are orthodox and "don't act on it." Whether it is acted upon or not, it is a sign of affective immaturity, is objectively disordered, and can result in serious "negative consequences." No homosexuals should be admitted to the priesthood or religious life at all. "Gay Catholics," orthodox or not, are not suitable candidates for the Roman Catholic priesthood.

Priestless parishes as a fait accompli?

In our diocese, every Catholic household receives a monthly, complimentary copy of the diocesan publication FAITH magazine. Unfortunately, this fruit salad of a magazine has let me down month after month, year after year for a decade. This magazine is pure syrup.

Although I am always frustrated whenever I read the kind of fluffy shortcake that this magazine is chock full of, I was especially irritated by the cover of the most recent issue, which you can see above. Three old women with short hair (two of them wearing pants, and who happen to be nuns) with the headline, "Who runs the parish when there is no priest?" They might as well have said, "Take a good look at your future, diocese, because here it is!" That is the message that is being conveyed here.

Two thoughts. One. Yes, I know there are priestless parishes. But why highlight them and draw attention to them? By drawing attention to them, it's like they are trying to familiarize us with the idea, perhaps so we are more used to it? Perhaps for the purpose of saying, "Get a good look at the future." If there is a problem with a shortage of priests, then why not use the diocesan publication to promote the priesthood? How about an article about the life of a priest, or an autobiographical piece from a priest about how he discerned his vocation?

Second problem: The way in which many dioceses are accepting the concept of priestless parishes as a fait accompli. The battle is being lost before it is even being waged. We do not have a lack of priests because there are no vocations; we have a lack of priests because nobody is really bothering trying to call them out. Our institutional leaders at the diocesan level have by and large bought into the lie that priestless parishes are simply the future of the Church; rather than try to rectify the fabricated "vocations crisis" they are accepting it as a fact. If we are in a battle, they are already dictating the terms of their own surrender rather than planning strategies for victory.

This is what the cover of this magazine seems to convey. Priestless parishes are the way of the future - here's what they look like, so get used to it. The resources behind this magazine could have been allocated to something much more conducive to positive formation. The biggest tragedy about this magazine is what it could be; as it stands, however, the nutritional value of this magazine is on par with styrofoam.

Related article: Communion Straw Men

The Assumption: Not a Question of History

The Church's doctrine on the bodily Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary is usually treated with scorn by Protestants, who of course do not acknowledge the unique role of Mary in salvation history. There are many objections: the doctrine is "not biblical"; it was "invented" in 1950; in makes Mary into a rival of Christ for our affection, etc. We are all familiar with these standard canards. Before I came back to the Church, I used to be skeptical of this doctrine; "Assumption? It sure is one giant assumption, since the Bible says nothing about it," I used to say to myself.

When you really dig into it, it is not the concept of an Assumption that is so problematic - Protestants of course acknowledge that both Enoch and Elijah were assumed alive into heaven, as the Scriptures state. The problem is not with the concept of an assumption, as much as whether or not one specific individual - Our Lady - was in fact assumed body and soul into heaven.

This question of fact is where I think the only strong objection to Our Lady's Assumption is found (by strong I only mean that it is the only objection that is really intelligent). This is the fact that, when we look back on evidence for belief in the Assumption in the patristic period, the writings are silent for the first several centuries. St. Epiphanius around 377 suggests the Assumption as a possibility; the first clear references we have to it come from the mid-5th century. There are many apocryphal works purporting to be from the pre-Nicene era, but my understanding is that none of these can be established with certainty before the 5th century, or maybe even the 6th. But if we look to the pre-Nicene era, we find zero references to the doctrine of the Assumption.

This at least is a real objection; it is based upon actual history and the lack of reference to a doctrine that Catholics believe is part of the deposit of faith. How can we believe a doctrine is apostolic if it is not mentioned in the apostolic or pre-Nicene periods? Indeed, even from 400 to 500 references to it are scarce; it is only in the period from around 550 to 700 that the doctrine comes into full light. This begs the question: If Mary truly was assumed bodily into heaven, would not the apostles have known about it and told others? Wouldn't news of such a miraculous occurrence be spread abroad fairly early on throughout all the churches? Wouldn't we have a clear testimony to its historicity, like we do with regards to Peter's martyrdom in Rome? Wouldn't someone before the 5th century have mentioned something about it?

These objections may seem formidable until we call to mind one simple fact that dispels them all: Belief in the Assumption is not based on historical observation; it is not a question of history. Let's look at what I mean by this.

Of course, the act of the Assumption was historical; I wouldn't deny that for a moment. It has been declared as divinely revealed dogma, and this guarantees the historicity of the event. But what we need to understand is that the Church does not believe in the Assumption because of some historical observation that was passed on from generation to generation. In other words, our faith concerning this dogma does not depend upon that somewhere in mid-1st century Palestine or Ephesus, somebody actually saw Mary's body assume into heaven and then went and told others about it. It is not based on any historical witness or observation.

In this sense, it is quite different from the Church's belief in our Lord's Resurrection, which was believed by the early Church because it had in fact been witnessed by many. Our Lord took great pains to make sure that many witnessed His Resurrection because He wanted the faith of the primitive Church to draw its source from this one, clearly historic event that was seen by numerable eyewitnesses. Mary's Assumption, on the other hand, might very well have been witnessed by no one. Suppose she died and was buried, and then her body was taken into heaven - who would have witnessed that? We do have that old story about the twelve apostles coming together to look at Mary's body one last time and upon opening the tomb finding her body gone, but I don't know of any scholar who accepts these Transitus Mariae narratives as historical, though they do reflect the pious beliefs of Christians in the late patristic period, who though they acknowledged that Mary was Assumed into heaven, were unclear on the details. Were Mary assumed into heaven, as the Church believes, it most likely would have been in obscurity and secrecy, unwitnessed by anyone.

Rather than an historical event that was observed and related, the Assumption is related to our belief in  Mary's sinlessness. The doctrine of the Assumption is implied in the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception;  Corruption, of course, is part of the effects of sin, as we are told in Romans 6:23 and in the Psalms, where King David writes, "Therefore my heart hath been glad, and my tongue hath rejoiced: moreover, my flesh also shall rest in hope. Because thou wilt not leave my soul in hell; nor wilt thou give thy holy one to see corruption" (Ps. 16:9-10). This is quoted by St. Paul in Acts 13:34-35 with reference to the Lord's Resurrection, where the Lord's "holy one" who is blameless is justified in His words by being freed from the corruption common to the sons of Adam.

Mary, because of her sinlessness, also shares this prerogative; the fact of the Assumption is implied from the reality of her Immaculate Conception. The two doctrines are linked; the latter leads us to confess the former, just as the justice of the Messiah means His Resurrection, since death and corruption are punishment for sin. Therefore, we do not believe in the Assumption because some dude two thousand years ago witnessed it and ran around the ancient churches saying, "Man, you'll never believe what I just saw over in Ephesus!" No; rather, it is a teaching which logically flows from our belief in the Immaculate Conception - and Mary's freedom from sin is clearly and explicitly taught in the pre-Nicene period. There is no Father who at any time suggests that Mary was a sinner; they all clearly teach her freedom from sin.

Therefore the Assumption is implied in the Immaculate Conception. Just like we say that belief in the Trinity is part of the deposit of faith even though it was not taught explicitly as such by the apostolic fathers, likewise can we assert about the Assumption. The Trinity is inferred by Christ's declaration of equality with the Father in the Gospels (along with many other of His words and actions), and the Assumption is inferred by the primitive belief in Mary's sinlessness.

Pius XII, when defining the dogma in Munificentissimus Deus, after relating different evidences of late patristic liturgies, iconography, and statements of the later Fathers (St. John Damascene, et al), goes on to say that belief in the Assumption is ultimately based on Sacred Scripture: "All these proofs and considerations of the holy Fathers and the theologians are based upon the Sacred Writings as their ultimate foundation" (MD, 38). Of course, Pius XII is here referring to a specifically typological reading of the Bible, though it he admits that sometimes theologians of the past were "rather free in their use of events and expressions taken from Sacred Scripture to explain their belief in the Assumption" (26). This is not a critique, however, but an endorsement of an interpretive method that wedded the mystical to the literal to gain insight into the truth.

The primary reason for belief in the Assumption, according to Pius, is "the filial love" of Christ for His mother (25). Note that it is a theological argument, not a historical one. He goes on to explain this filial love in terms of Mary's close unity with her Son:

"Hence the revered Mother of God, from all eternity joined in a hidden way with Jesus Christ in one and the same decree of predestination, immaculate in her conception, a most perfect virgin in her divine motherhood, the noble associate of the divine Redeemer who has won a complete triumph over sin and its consequences, finally obtained, as the supreme culmination of her privileges, that she should be preserved free from the corruption of the tomb and that, like her own Son, having overcome death, she might be taken up body and soul to the glory of heaven where, as Queen, she sits in splendor at the right hand of her Son, the immortal King of the Ages" (MD, 40).

All of this comes from the data of revelation as found in the Scriptures, and therefore does Pius say the pious beliefs about Mary's Assumption are "based upon the Sacred Writings as their ultimate foundation." Pius XII goes on to explain the importance of the later Fathers and early medieval liturgies as evidence for belief in the doctrine, but the doctrine itself is implied from the sinlessness of our Lady, which is found in the Scriptures and the pre-Nicene Fathers. It is part of divine revelation, albeit implicitly.

Of course, Protestants would not acknowledge this, as they read the Bible differently than we. But is important for us that we understand, and can explain that this doctrine does not depend upon a witness of history, although that does lend credence to a very ancient belief in the Assumption; rather, it exists in seed form along with the doctrine of Mary's sinlessness and is inferred from it. This is true whether or not there were Christians alive in the patristic age who could elaborate on it, and thus the lack of written evidence for the Assumption prior to the late 4th and early 5th centuries is not only not problematic but is actually irrelevant.

Related Post: Assumed or Resurrected?