Understanding the Catholic Church through St. John Lateran

This Sunday (Nov. 9th) we interrupted our regular calendar to celebrate “St. John Lateran.” Who is he, and why does his celebration rank above a Sunday in Ordinary Time, when famous saints like Francis of Assisi or Patrick do not? Well, first of all, he is not a person! Instead, we are celebrating the dedication of a church in Rome. That just leads to a new question, though: out of all of the tremendous churches in Rome, why is this the only one that merits such an honor? Not even St. Peter’s Basilica is celebrated in this way. It struck me that if someone understands the significance of this celebration, they will understand much of how the Catholic Church understands itself. This post is not meant to be a definitive response to every question, but I hope to at least lay out a schema to get the big picture view. I’ll put some section headings in case that helps you to jump to the area of your interest!

Jesus’ plan to found a Church, built upon the Apostles, with Peter as the leader of the Apostles, and true unity as the goal

We believe that Jesus came to found a Church, the fulfillment of the promises in the Old Testament. The clearest statement of this is when Jesus gives Simon his new name of Peter: “I name you Peter [which means “rock”], and on this rock I will build my Church” (Matthew 16:18). Jesus is ultimately the foundation upon which the Church is built: “for no one can lay a foundation other than the one that is there, namely, Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:11). But, the Apostles are likewise essential in the foundation of the Church. The book of Revelation describes their names as forming the foundation stones of the full realization of the Church in the heavenly Jerusalem: “And the wall of the city had twelve foundation stones, and on them were the twelve names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb” (Rev. 21:14). St. Paul draws these two aspects together in his letter to the Ephesians: “So then you are no longer strangers and sojourners, but you are fellow citizens with the holy ones and members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the capstone. Through him the whole structure is held together and grows into a temple sacred in the Lord” (Eph. 2:19-21). 

The Apostles were a distinct group among those who followed Jesus. As we hear in Luke 6:12-13, “In those days he departed to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God. When day came, he called his disciples to himself, and from them he chose Twelve, whom he also named apostles.” Jesus called them to a special role of leadership within the Church, guarding its unity and teaching. We see this in their role in interpreting which parts of the Old Testament still applied to Christians (the Council of Jerusalem in Acts of the Apostles, Chapter 15). Questions of interpreting the Scriptures would arise throughout history, and Jesus instituted a specific ministry to respond to this need, beginning with the Apostles. Otherwise, how could one trust a particular interpretation over another who spoke with equal sincerity/persuasiveness? This structure gives a visible marker for unity. The institution of the Apostles actually comes before the writing of the New Testament, as this provided a context to receive these inspired works and to interpret them correctly. The early Church could not possibly have lived in a “Scripture alone” mode of life, disregarding the teaching of the Apostles and the tradition handed down by them. As St. Paul wrote to the Thessalonians, “Therefore, brothers, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught, either by an oral statement or by a letter of ours” (2 Thess. 2:15). Otherwise, “a text without a context becomes a pretext” (as the saying goes), to be used however the interpreter sees fit.

We see the authority of the Apostles in the verse immediately after Jesus gives Simon the name of Peter: “I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven” (Matthew 16:19). In fact, Peter is given the specific role as the leader of the Twelve Apostles. In addition to His words in Matthew 16, we see Peter listed first in the various lists of Apostles, and exercising leadership (for example, being the one to call for the election of Matthias and delivering the first sermon on Pentecost). Jesus tells Peter, out of all of the Apostles at the Last Supper, “I have prayed that your own faith may not fail; and once you have turned back, you must strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:32). 

What type of community is he supposed to strengthen? In the words after the Last Supper, Jesus prays that the unity of the Church may be the same as that between Him and His heavenly Father: “I pray not only for them, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me” (John 17:20-21). We believe that Jesus wants a true unity in the Church – using the perfect unity of the Trinity as a model. This doesn’t mean absolute uniformity – the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit remain distinct Persons within the Trinity – but it also excludes a loose federation that only has an external appearance of unity. He wants us to really work together, to share a common Faith and structure. Like a tree, there is a difference between branches that all share a common life with the roots and the trunk, and various trees (or dead branches) that are merely in proximity to each other. It is for this reason that the Catholic Church does not see the plan of Jesus to be various communities that each have their own version of Christianity, accepting part of the structure (preaching, music, the Scriptures), but rejecting the parts that they do not prefer (the seven Sacraments, ordained ministry, the Eucharist). This is not a claim that “we are right because we are so amazing,” but an attempt to be faithful to those marks of the Church that the early Christians saw as essential to the plan of Jesus: One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic (as outlined in the Nicene Creed).

The growth of the Church from the Apostles to the present structure

After the Resurrection, Jesus spent forty days with the disciples until His Ascension (Acts 1:3). He then invited them to pray, and they received the Holy Spirit on the fiftieth day, Pentecost (Acts 2:1). After this, the Apostles led the initial Church in Jerusalem itself. The Apostles eventually went to spread the message of Christ outside of Jerusalem, adding new members to the Church. This included new leaders who were given the title of Apostle (e.g., Matthias in Acts 1:26 to replace Judas Iscariot, and St. Paul in 1 Corinthians 1:1). They formed new communities of the faithful in other towns. As mentioned above, the believers were to share a true unity, not just something superficial. The Apostles initially provided the foundation of this unity, but they were called to move on (and would not live on earth forever). They left behind them newly ordained leaders called “bishops” (literally, “overseers,” e.g. Acts 20:28). St. Paul writes his letters to Timothy and Titus as ones who are undertaking this responsibility, having received this grace through the imposition of his hands (i.e., ordination, 2 Timothy 1:6). The Apostles and other bishops alone were not enough to care for all of the pastoral need, and so we see the ordination of deacons (Acts 6) and priests (the English abbreviation of presbyters, e.g. Acts 20:17). 

Thus we have the basic structure of the Church: local communities cared for by priests and deacons (which we now call “parishes”), larger groups of parishes cared for by a bishop (which we now call a “diocese”), and a true communion of bishops under the successor of St. Peter (who we now call the “Pope,” an English nickname for the Bishop of Rome). To go back to the analogy of the tree, these are branches that all draw from the same root structure/inner life.

Two early witnesses to this structure of the Church: St. Ignatius of Antioch and St. Irenaeus of Lyons

This is not some sort of late medieval development, or even one that came about only after Constantine legalized Christianity in the Roman Empire in 313 AD. One of the clearest articulations of it is by St. Ignatius of Antioch, who was martyred around the year 107 AD, very much within the living memory of the time of the Apostles. We have seven letters of his as he traveled on his way to martyrdom. He writes, “See that you all follow the bishop, even as Jesus Christ does the Father, and the priests as you would the apostles; and reverence the deacons, as being the institution of God. Let no man do anything connected with the Church without the bishop… Wherever the bishop shall appear, there let the multitude [of the people] also be; even as, wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the Catholic Church… Whatsoever [the bishop] shall approve of, that is also pleasing to God, so that everything that is done may be secure and valid” (Letter to the Smyrnaeans, Ch 8). In the next part of that letter, he adds, “Let all things therefore be done by you with good order in Christ. Let the laity be subject to the deacons; the deacons to the priests; the priests to the bishop; the bishop to Christ, even as He is to the Father” (Ch 9). This does not mean that the laity are mere servants of the ordained – on the contrary, we remember that Jesus instructed the Apostles that their role “was to serve, not to be served” (Matthew 20:28). Instead, it highlights the particular responsibility that the ordained have to serve the unity of the Church by providing something other than charismatic leaders providing their own “version” of the Church. 

St. Irenaeus of Lyons (who died around 200 AD) is another clear witness to the presence of the Church’s structure well before Constantine. He wrote a famous book called “Against Heresies” – in other words, correcting errors in understandings of the Faith. He writes, “One should not seek among others the truth that can be easily gotten from the Church. For in her, as in a rich treasury, the apostles have placed all that pertains to truth, so that everyone can drink this beverage of life. She is the door of life. For she is the entrance to life; all others are thieves and robbers” (Book III, 4.1). Irenaeus traces the path from the Apostles to the present, focusing specifically on the Church of Rome. As he says, he does this, “by indicating that tradition derived from the apostles, of the very great, the very ancient, and universally known Church founded and organized at Rome by the two most glorious apostles, Peter and Paul; as also [by pointing out] the faith preached to men, which comes down to our time by means of the successions of the bishops. For it is a matter of necessity that every Church should agree with this Church, on account of its pre-eminent authority” (Book III, 3.2). He then gives the list of the twelve bishops of Rome who followed Peter up until the time of his writing, showing the importance of tracking this office even for someone like him living in a distant land.

Why St. John Lateran, though?

I will finally get down to answering my initial question! Given that the Church is built upon the structure of ‘local parish, local diocese, and universal Church,’ each community celebrates the dedication of three churches in its calendar: that of the local parish church, that of the principal church of the bishop of their diocese (called a Cathedral), and that of the Cathedral of the Bishop of Rome (the Pope). While the new St. Peter’s Basilica is more famous (built in the 1500s), the basilica in the Lateran territory actually has had the more significant history over the years (founded in 324 AD). The early Christians were not able to build significant public structures due to the periods of Roman persecution, and so used subtle places like homes or the catacombs. When Constantine opened up public celebration in 313 AD, he gave the Church space in the Lateran territory. Buildings of an architectural style called “basilicas” were located in Rome, and could easily be converted into churches (having large open areas and a raised platform at the end). One of these was adapted to become the Bishop of Rome’s chief church, and this is the origin of “St. John Lateran.”

One of the most confusing factors is that the name “St. John Lateran “ is just a modern English abbreviation, not the church’s actual name. Its real name is, “the Archbasilica of the Most Holy Savior and Saints John the Baptist and John the Evangelist at the Lateran.” It is the Pope’s Cathedral, and therefore the “mother church” of the whole Catholic Church. It has picked up the patronage of the two St. Johns, and in common parlance that became the shorthand, along with its geographical area of the Lateran territory. However, while the other three Major Basilicas are dedicated to the key Biblical saints of Mary, Peter, and Paul, the Pope’s Cathedral is primarily dedicated to Jesus Christ, the Most Holy Savior, and the ultimate foundation of the Church. Amen!

Tolkien’s Vision of Creation, Sin, and Redemption

Background on Tolkien’s approach to writing myth/legend

JRR Tolkien had a profound theology/philosophy of what it meant to write mythology. Rather than denigrating it as “mere” fiction, he saw creating mythology as an aspect of what it means to be made in the image of God. If God is a Creator, then we are “sub-creators,” capable of devising “Secondary Worlds” that reflect the real/“Primary World.” We see throughout the Scriptures the way that God invites us into His work, not choosing to do everything apart from us, but calling humans constantly to be co-workers with the plan of redemption. Saints are not “rivals” to God’s work (as some misunderstand it), but rather shining examples of God’s grace in action.

Tolkien saw the challenge of authors to be to create a Secondary World with the “the inner consistency of reality.” If this was done correctly, readers would be able to imagine themselves actually living in that world – something that Tolkien called “Secondary Belief.” He wrote: “To make a Secondary World inside which the green sun will be credible, commanding Secondary Belief, will probably require labour and thought, and will certainly demand a special skill, a kind of elvish craft. Few attempt such difficult tasks. But when they are attempted and in any degree accomplished then we have a rare achievement of Art: indeed narrative art, story-making in its primary and most potent mode” (from his essay “On Fairy Stories”).

This Secondary World has to be like our world in some ways, but unlike it in others. The difference is what allows it to shock us out of the familiarity that makes us miss what is truly fantastic in our everyday experience. It also lets us see old truths in new ways. It is similar to Jesus’ use of parables – images that draw us into truth through story. In one of his most significant letters, Tolkien explains, “I believe that legends and myths are largely made up of ‘truth,’ and indeed present aspects of it that can only be received in this mode” (Letter 131). 

Tolkien’s Image of Creation

On this note, I want to share a little about the way that Tolkien approached Creation in his Legendarium (“Legendarium” refers to the massive amount of background material that he prepared around the stories of the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings). This text can be found in the Silmarillion, the central writings that were put together and published after his death by his son Christopher. Here I give the text written by Tolkien in italics, with my commentary in brackets. You will notice that Tolkien writes the text in a more archaic style, a method to evoke the sense that we are reading something from the olden days. He uses the image of singing to represent sharing in the thought and music of God. It is set as a prelude to the actual creation of the world, considering how God might have planned for the work that was to come. This happens through the cooperation of the Ainur, who represent the highest angels – including Melkor, the one who introduces discord into the song (representing the devil). This account of creation shows the way that God works through this interference to create beauty.

There was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Ilúvatar; and he made first the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought, and they were with him before aught else was made. And he spoke to them, propounding to them themes of music; and they sang before him, and he was glad. But for a long while they sang only each alone, or but few together, while the rest hearkened; for each comprehended only that part of the mind of Iluvatar from which he came, and in the understanding of their brethren they grew but slowly. Yet ever as they listened they came to deeper understanding, and increased in unison and harmony.

 [“Eru” means “the One,” and is the first title given to God by Tolkien. It represents one aspect of the truth perceived in many stories of God – that this being is the one who has no equal. The second title – “Ilúvatar” – means “All-father.” It highlights a second key aspect of God perceived by religion broadly speaking, that God is the “uncaused cause,” the one who exists by nature and not by previous action of another being, the Creator of creation. The creation of the Ainur corresponds to the creation of the angels.]

And it came to pass that Iluvatar called together all the Ainur and declared to them a mighty theme, unfolding to them things greater and more wonderful than he had yet revealed; and the glory of its beginning and the splendour of its end amazed the Ainur, so that they bowed before Iluvatar and were silent. Then Iluvatar said to them: ‘Of the theme that I have declared to you, I will now that ye make in harmony together a Great Music. And since I have kindled you with the Flame Imperishable, ye shall show forth your powers in adorning this theme, each with his own thoughts and devices, if he will. But I will sit and hearken, and be glad that through you great beauty has been wakened into song…

[Here God invites the angels to share in his work of creation – they are entrusted with the role of “sub-creating” (explained in the first part of this post), to utilize the gifts given to them by God to enrich the world. Chief of these gifts is the “Flame Imperishable, which represents a share in God’s own uncreated life, which incorporates the ideas of existence and grace]

But as the theme progressed, it came into the heart of Melkor to interweave matters of his own imagining that were not in accord with the theme of Iluvatar; for he sought therein to increase the power and glory of the part assigned to himself. To Melkor among the Ainur had been given the greatest gifts of power and knowledge, and he had a share in all the gifts of his brethren. He had gone often alone into the void places seeking the Imperishable Flame; for desire grew hot within him to bring into Being things of his own, and it seemed to him that Iluvatar took no thought for the Void, and he was impatient of its emptiness. Yet he found not the Fire, for it is with Iluvatar. But being alone he had begun to conceive thoughts of his own unlike those of his brethren. Some of these thoughts he now wove into his music, and straight-way discord arose about him, and many that sang nigh him grew despondent, and their thought was disturbed and their music faltered; but some began to attune their music to his rather than to the thought which they had at first. Then the discord of Melkor spread ever wider, and the melodies which had been heard before foundered in a sea of turbulent sound. But Iluvatar sat and hearkened until it seemed that about his throne there was a raging storm, as of dark waters that made war one upon another in an endless wrath that would not be assuaged.

[Melkor is the representation of Satan/Lucifer – created as a high angel, but who turned away from God out of pride. Tolkien represents this pride as seeking the Fire (God’s life) apart from God, and his disruption of the plan of creation as introducing discord into the singing of the Ainur, leading to the fall of others.]

Then Iluvatar arose, and the Ainur perceived that he smiled; and he lifted up his left hand, and a new theme began amid the storm, like and yet unlike to the former theme, and it gathered power and had new beauty. 

[Here, God introduces a counter theme to the discord of Melkor/Satan. This is the promise of redemption (see Genesis 3:15). Rather than destroying us after the Fall, God chooses to redeem us – like the decision to renovate a house instead of demolish it.]

But the discord of Melkor rose in uproar and contended with it, and again there was a war of sound more violent than before, until many of the Ainur were dismayed and sang no longer, and Melkor had the mastery. Then again Iluvatar arose, and the Ainur perceived that his countenance was stern; and he lifted up his right hand, and behold! a third theme grew amid the confusion, and it was unlike the others. For it seemed at first soft and sweet, a mere rippling of gentle sounds in delicate melodies; but it could not be quenched, and it took to itself power and profundity. And it seemed at last that there were two musics progressing at one time before the seat of Iluvatar, and they were utterly at variance. The one was deep and wide and beautiful, but slow and blended with an immeasurable sorrow, from which its beauty chiefly came. The other had now achieved a unity of its own; but it was loud, and vain, and endlessly repeated; and it had little harmony, but rather a clamorous unison as of many trumpets braying upon a few notes. And it essayed to drown the other music by the violence of its voice, but it seemed that its most triumphant notes were taken by the other and woven into its own solemn pattern. 

[Melkor contends against the plan of salvation by pushing for a new discord (which Tolkien describes as “loud, and vain, and endlessly repeated” – depicting the way that sin has a repetitive and uncreative aspect about it). God counters with an even more profound theme (the salvation of Christ, which brings good out of evil – “deep and wide and beautiful, but slow and blended with an immeasurable sorrow, from which its beauty chiefly came”). One can understand the way Tolkien describes this if familiar with the challenges of his own life – the death of his father when he was three years old, the shunning of his mother by her family when she entered the Catholic Church, the death of his mother when he was twelve years old, his time as an orphan, the challenging courtship of the love of his life, his experience of the horrors of trench warfare as a soldier in World War I, and the death/separation of all of his close friends from the same conflict. Despite all of these sorrows and reasons for despair, Tolkien found healing and hope in the Gospel. He did not see faith as something for the faint of heart, but something that could confront real darkness and bring light.]

In the midst of this strife, whereat the halls of Iluvatar shook and a tremor ran out into the silences yet unmoved, Iluvatar arose a third time, and his face was terrible to behold. Then he raised up both his hands, and in one chord, deeper than the Abyss, higher than the Firmament, piercing as the light of the eye of Iluvatar, the Music ceased. Then Iluvatar spoke, and he said: ‘Mighty are the Ainur, and mightiest among them is Melkor; but that he may know, and all the Ainur, that I am Iluvatar, those things that ye have sung, I will show them forth, that ye may see what ye have done. And thou, Melkor, shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not its uttermost source in me, nor can any alter the music in my despite. For he that attempteth this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which he himself hath not imagined.

[Finally, God brings the music to an end, representing the definitive plan for the course of the world. The singing represented the formation of the plan of Creation – now God will play out the music through events: Creation, the Fall, the Redemption, and the time of the Church until the end of the world. In this process, Tolkien gives a response to the problem of evil. This is seen especially in the final sentences (if it is helpful, here is a rendering in modern speech: “And you, Melkor, will see that nothing can be done that does not have its ultimate basis in me, nor can anyone change the course of events without my permission. For the one who tries to work against me, will find that I use the attempts to disrupt my plan to bring about things even more wonderful, and which the one disrupting me did not even imagine”). In this, God highlights that He will use the evil introduced by Melkor to produce greater beauty. This is where the analogy of music particularly shines – musical notes that seem to only make discord in the melody can be woven in with other notes to make a pleasing harmony. The music becomes richer for this, rather than uglier. This truth is proclaimed during the Exsultet at the Easter Vigil: “Oh happy fault that earned so great, so glorious a Redeemer.” Instead of just restoring Adam and Eve to the life that they had in the Garden, God gives us a deeper, more profound share in the life of Christ on earth, and in His glory in heaven. In the end, Melkor’s plots against God only result in a greater mercy.]

I hope that this meditation is helpful for you to see the mystery of the Creation, the Fall, and the Redemption in a new light!

Christmas Images and St. John Damascene

Advent/Christmas is a time filled with images – manger scenes, the Holy Family, angels, Saint Nicholas, and many others. This is not unique to the Catholic Church, but something you see almost everywhere this time of year!

What is ironic, is that for some the Catholic use of images is in fact an obstacle and stumbling block to belief in the Church. Many believe that this violates the Old Testament prohibition: “You shall not make for yourself an idol or a likeness of anything in the heavens above or on the earth below or in the waters beneath the earth” (Exodus 20:4). How can we fill our churches with graven images, when this is specifically prohibited? The extreme view of this position is called iconoclasm (literally, “image breaking”). It is the belief that all forms of images are against the teaching of the Scriptures and the respect due to God, and must be removed or destroyed.

Therefore, I think that it is very fitting that we always celebrate the feast of St John Damascene (Dec. 4th) near the beginning of Advent. He was an active writer in the early 700’s at a time when iconoclasm was very strong. In his writings we find a wonderful defense of the practice of sacred images – seeing them not as an obstacle to authentic worship, but a powerful aid!

First, the extreme position against images is not even a fair interpretation of the Old Testament. Just five chapters after the supposed prohibition against all graven images, God commands that the Israelites make images of the cherubim (a type of angel) to be placed on the Ark of the Covenant: “Make two cherubim of beaten gold for the two ends of the cover” (Exodus 25:18). Likewise, wooden statues of the cherubim are included in the construction of the Temple in Jerusalem: “In the inner sanctuary he made two cherubim, each ten cubits high, made of pine.” (1 Kings 6:23). Thus, the Old Testament does not forbid the creation of all sacred images, but only in the narrower sense of ones specifically worshipped in place of God (i.e., idols). As Catholics, we do not worship the saints in place of God, but rather see them as living brothers and sisters near to the Lord – “He is not the God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive” (Luke 20:38). We give thanks for the grace of God at work in them, and ask them to pray for us.

Second, St John Damascene specifically draws out the way that things have changed after the incarnation of the second person of the Trinity- Jesus taking on human nature in the womb of the Virgin Mary, true God and true man. Many of the Old Testament laws were connected to the particular time and situation, or as a preparation toward later fulfillment. There are many times that Jesus declares this about Old Testament teaching: 

  • “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’… [and] ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5: 38, 43-44).
  • “He said to them, ‘Are even you likewise without understanding? Do you not realize that everything that goes into a person from outside cannot defile…’ Thus he declared all foods clean.” (Mark 7:18-19). 
  • “Because of the hardness of your hearts Moses allowed you to divorce your wives, but from the beginning it was not so.” (Matthew 19:8). 

In each of these cases, Jesus speaks of an Old Testament teaching that was pointing toward a deeper fulfillment, not one that was binding for all time. Many other examples could be found – for example, the animal sacrifices in the Temple.

Along this line, St John Damascene pointed out that when the “Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:15), God made a living image of Himself. Jesus says, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9). The prophet Isaiah speaks of the way that the Messiah will remove what veils God: “On this mountain he will destroy the veil that veils all peoples, the web that is woven over all nations” (Isaiah 25:7). Indeed, we see this at the death of Christ on the Cross: “And behold, the veil of the sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom” (Matthew 27:51).

For all of these reasons, it is a mistake to take an overly strict interpretation of the prohibition against images in the Old Testament. I provide these abundant Scriptural references, since the attack against Catholic sacred images is often motivated by a desire to be faithful to what the Bible teaches. We can see that the Scriptures themselves teach us that God has reached out to us in a new way. The New Testament proclaims a closeness to God. Saints or sacred images do not keep us from seeing the glory of God as if they were competing lights, but rather they are mirrors that reflect the divine goodness in radiant beauty. It is a wonderful practice during Advent and Christmas to spend time praying in front of the art of the season, calling to mind more and more deeply the presence of God in our lives!

What is a saint?

Catholicism is well known for its veneration of saints – but what does this mean? The term “saint” has three levels of usage.

At its most basic level, “saint” simply means a holy person. It is an adaptation of the Latin word “sanctus,” meaning “holy.” Many languages (e.g. Spanish) in fact use the same word for “holy” and “saint.” At times the Scriptures refer to the members of the Church on earth as the saints (in other words, “holy ones”). For example, Paul does this in his farewell in Philippians 4:21. 

The second sense of “saint” refers in general to those who have died and are now in heaven. The Book of Revelation connects these first two usages when it talks about the interaction of the “saints” on earth with those in heaven: [The Lamb] came and received the scroll from the right hand of the one who sat on the throne. When he took it, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb. Each of the elders held a harp and gold bowls filled with incense, which are the prayers of the holy ones (Revelation 5:7-8).

Here, we see the twenty-four elders in heaven (i.e. the heads of the twelve tribes of Israel and the twelve Apostles) receiving the prayers of the holy ones (literally “saints”) on earth, symbolized by the gold bowls of incense. Those in heaven then present these prayers at the throne of God. On a side note, this scripture passage also helps clarify a common misconception about the Catholic veneration of saints, thinking that we “worship the saints” as a form of idolatry. It is important to understand that we don’t pray to them in the same sense as praying to God. Rather, we are asking them to pray for us by presenting our petitions to God, much like we ask those on earth to pray for us. The scriptures say, “Therefore… pray for one another, that you may be healed. The fervent prayer of a righteous person is very powerful” (James 5:16). 

A further objection might be that those who have died are in a state of stasis until awakened at the end of time. While we do believe that in a sense the saints are waiting to be “awakened” at the final resurrection, we do not believe that this means their souls are inactive in heaven. Jesus says, “but those who are deemed worthy to attain to the coming age and to the resurrection of the dead… can no longer die, for they are like angels; and they are the children of God because they are the ones who will rise. That the dead will rise even Moses made known in the passage about the bush, when he called ‘Lord’ the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob; and he is not God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive” (Luke 20: 35-38). This indicates that the souls of the deceased are alive and active in the same way angels are. Another passage we can look at is from the Transfiguration: “And behold, two men were conversing with [Jesus], Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem” (Luke 9: 30-31). Again, we see that Moses and Elijah are able to speak with Jesus even though this is long after their time on earth.

Back to the point at hand, there is a third more technical meaning of the word “saint:” those who have been canonized by the Church. This refers to an official process by which the Church solemnly recognizes that a person is in heaven, is worthy of veneration, and is permitted for public devotion in the liturgy. This topic deserves its own article, and so I will continue this point in my next post!

Mr Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore

“Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore” (a 2012 novel by Robin Sloan) came to me just at the right time – and for that I thank my godmother! I had been looking for a new audiobook and received the recommendation just before Holy Week. The book itself is a lot of fun – a fictional story about a set of adventures by a character named Clay Jannon. Clay works in the modern-day California tech industry, but ends up taking a job at the titular bookstore. It has a very small selection of normal books up front, and then a massive set of secret shelves behind. Only an eccentric group of patrons are allowed access to this back section, and their study demands 24-hour access. Clay naturally begins to look into this mystery, and a rollicking adventure ensues. 

While the tone of this book is a bit irreverent (probably a PG-13 rating), it gets into deeper themes that I think were particularly striking during Holy Week. I’d like to share two reflections on it. The first will avoid spoilers, while the second does contain some spoilers to the conclusion (I’ll put a warning before you get to that point!).

First point: Early on, Mr Penumbra explains that the secret section is for those who are committed to “reading deeply.” This was striking since during Holy Week I try to spend extra time in “lectio divina,” which refers to the prayerful reading of the Sacred Scripture. The goal in this practice is not to get through as much Scripture as possible, but to get as much out of Scripture as possible. It involves reflection, conversation with God, and openness to the voice of God speaking within us.

“Reading deeply” can also apply by analogy to what we hear or see. The challenge is not to let words simply go in one ear and out the other, but to let them take root and bear fruit. Holy Week includes many of the greatest liturgies of the year – Palm Sunday, the Chrism Mass, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, the Easter Vigil, and Easter Sunday. At times our mind can be in a million places, and rather than “praying deeply,” we are just counting down the minutes until we are done. If we do this we miss out on the particular grace that the sacraments have to draw us into the mystery of redemption. Thus, “reading deeply” was a perfect piece of advice for Holy Week!

[Warning – spoilers to follow!]

Second point: The second relevant theme of the book was immortality. The readers who Clay meets at Mr Penumbra’s bookstore are seeking some hidden secret of eternal life in the “Codex Vitae” (ie, “book of life”) of the founder of their order. They believe information is encoded in the writing that will point to some key insight from medieval alchemy. Likewise, Clay’s friends in the tech world are seeking immortality through virtual reality and AI. Both groups are trying to overcome the limits of this life. They want more than a temporary reality that eventually fades away. Sloan points out a more satisfying solution than the two above, but he stops short of really asking the religious question. Is our desire for life in abundance ultimately hopeless, or are there any foundations for a hope that does not disappoint? Once again, this point is brought home powerfully in the liturgies of Holy Week. I’ll end with this reflection from the Scriptures-

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who in his great mercy gave us a new birth to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you who by the power of God are safeguarded through faith, to a salvation that is ready to be revealed in the final time. In this you rejoice, although now for a little while you may have to suffer through various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire, may prove to be for praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Although you have not seen him you love him; even though you do not see him now yet believe in him, you rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, as you attain the goal of [your] faith, the salvation of your souls.” (1 Peter 1:3-9)

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell

[Week 7 of the Imagination in Action reflection series. Theme this week: True Faith]

Is magic real? If so, what is its truest expression? These questions stand at the heart of Susanna Clarke’s 2004 novel “Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell.” The story is set in the 1800’s in an alternate history of England in which magic once existed. It follows various scholars of magic as they seek to reawaken the practice. I found this book fascinating, and in large measure because of the reflection that it offers on living faith. (Note: there is also a miniseries adaptation available on Netflix. It is not bad, but varies in a number of ways from the book and loses some of my favorite parts).

The first two paragraphs of the book provide a good context for how we can make a parallel with faith:

Some years ago there was in the city of York a society of magicians. They met upon the third Wednesday of every month and read each other long, dull papers upon the history of English magic.

They were gentleman-magicians, which is to say they had never harmed any one by magic – nor ever done any one the slightest good. In fact, to own the truth, not one of these magicians had ever cast the smallest spell, nor by magic caused on leaf to tremble upon a tree, made on emote of dust to alter its course or changed a single hair upon any one’s head. But, with this one minor reservation, they enjoyed a reputation as some of the wisest and most magical gentlemen in Yorkshire.

After this, the chapter describes how one of the meetings was disrupted by the question of why they never practiced magic, and the many excuses offered by the members of the society. They saw practicing what they studied as undignified and beneath their social station. Here we can see a parallel with the strength that faith once possessed in England, and the way that many of the “gentleman-theologians” of the 1800s had continued to study faith, but merely as something historically interesting, and not a living part of their life. Modifying the questions I mentioned at the beginning of this post, we can first ask “Is faith real?” Then, “What does its true expression look like in our lives?”

Is faith real?

I think many people discount faith because they think of it in terms of “blind faith.” I dislike this phrase because I do not think it is accurate to Christian belief. “Blind faith” implies believing something without evidence, and can easily lead into unhealthy or destructive expressions of belief. Although it is true that faith ultimately requires a step of belief, we do not make this step “blind” but can look at motives of credibility (reasons to believe). We might look at the predictions of Christ in the Old Testament (existing long before Jesus walked the earth) or accounts of His miracles. But, I think the most compelling is to look at the Resurrection and the transformation of the Apostles.

If Jesus did not rise from the dead, then why does Christianity exist? Some religions were the development of folk myths that did not face any particular challenge from the surrounding culture (eg the belief in the Greek gods). We can look at other religions that were accompanied by gains in wealth, military power, or public prestige in their early years. While it is true that after the time of Emperor Constantine Christianity became publicly accepted and there was the temptation to profess faith simply for its worldly benefits, this was almost 300 years after the time of Christ and cannot explain the origins of Christianity. The early followers of Christ had to embrace serious public difficulties in accepting the faith.

We have many writings from the first century of Christianity (many overlapping with the life of the Apostles) that we can look at – St Polycarp of Smyrna, St Ignatius of Antioch, St Irenaeus of Lyons, St Justin Martyr, or the letter of the Roman Governor Pliny to Emperor Trajan (to give a few examples). So, it is not credible to say that the account of Christ’s life was manufactured hundreds of years after His lifetime when there was no means of knowing the truth.

Most of all, I think we have to look at the transformation of the Apostles. St John Chrysostom points out that we have to wonder why they were afraid to follow Jesus while He lived (running away at the time of the crucifixion), but were bold to profess Him after His death. Why suffer and die for something you knew was a lie? Likewise, the claim that they all had the exact same hallucination and all held firm to it to the end seems hard to believe. These could have been disproven in the early years by presenting the body of Jesus still in the tomb. I think the most credible explanation is that they did encounter the risen Christ, and this was the source of their transformation. Therefore, we are not asked to accept a “blind faith,” but one that rests on solid witness.

What does faith’s true expression look like in our lives?

This leads us to our next question in regards to true faith: its lived experience. Returning to “Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell,” we see that even if some of the magicians believed that magic actually had existed, it had no impact in their life. They felt more pressure to follow the social conventions of their time than what they studied. This is likewise a great challenge to us today. The obstacle to faith in many people may not be historical questions about the Resurrection, but the poor witness that we as Christians sometimes give. St James writes in the Bible that, “faith without works is dead” (James 2:26). True faith is built upon confidence in the words of Christ, and it is expressed in allowing transformation in our life. Too often we hold back in fear from letting go of the worldly promises for happiness: power, popularity, possessions, or pleasure. We see the good fruit of faith in the lives of saints and holy people we know, but aren’t ready (or sure) how to follow them.

I don’t write this to discourage anyone in their faith, but for encouragement to embrace the season of Easter. The transformation of the lives of the Apostles is not described as happening in a single day. Instead, Jesus spends forty days with them until the Ascension, strengthening them in their new-found faith. He then instructs them to spend nine days in prayer before receiving the gift of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost (the fiftieth day). It is at this point that we see them sent forth to begin preaching.

So, if our assessment of our life of faith right now leaves us feeling down, let us remember that Easter is not a single day. It is a season that stretches across those same fifty days that the Apostles experienced. It is a time to ask the Lord to give us strength and confidence, as well as a deeper outpouring of the Holy Spirit. This is difficult to do alone, and so I am going to change the focus of my reflections leading up to Pentecost. During Lent I looked mainly at our personal spiritual life. During Easter I will look at the mission of a parish and how connection with our parish helps to nourish this transformation of faith. God bless!

Advent 2020 Prayer Study – Week 4

Merry Christmas! I write this in the midst of our celebration of the Christmas Octave. The manger scene is a fitting scene to consider for our final step of the classic “lectio divina” method of praying with Scripture- contemplation. Here we refer not to the human act of prayer, but God’s response. It may be a felt inspiration/guidance or not. However, with faith and hope we take time to listen for God in our prayer. Our goal is not only an interior monologue of our meditation and prayers – we seek a dialogue in which we encounter God’s voice. Just as the figures around the manger gaze in receptive adoration of the birth of the Christ child, let us remember to leave time for contemplation in our prayer to allow space for God to act!

Weekly notes from Facebook-

Monday: Silence can scare us, and drive us to want to fill up the space with noise or busy-ness. However, silence gives a space where relationship can grow and a gift can be received. Our prayerful time with Scripture should include not only reading, reflecting, and expressing our reflections in prayer, but also silence and open receptivity to God.

Tuesday: St Teresa of Avila, one of the master teachers on prayer, describes the difference between human cooperation in prayer (what we have been discussing in the first three steps) and God’s response. Here are some of her words on this topic from Way of Perfection (ch. 31): “I still want to describe this prayer of quiet to you in the way that I have heard it explained and as the Lord has been pleased to teach it to me. . . . This is a supernatural state and however hard we try, we cannot acquire it by ourselves. . . . The faculties are stilled and have no wish to move, for any movement they make seems to hinder the soul from loving God. They are not completely lost, however, since two of them are free and they can realize in whose presence they are. It is the will that is captive now. . . . The intellect tries to occupy itself with only one thing, and the memory has no desire to busy itself with more. They both see that this is the one thing necessary; anything else will cause them to be disturbed.”

Wednesday: Often we are tempted to rate our prayer as “good or bad” based on whether we feel a certain way at the end. While at times we do experience a sense of inspiration, this isn’t the only time that God is active. The response we “feel” can depend on many factors (what is going on in our life at the time, emotional state, etc). If we have spent the time seeking conversation with God (despite distractions), we can be confident that God is at work in our life to guide us by His grace!

Thursday: Yesterday I spoke of not trying to force a particular response in prayer and not to evaluate prayer just on our emotional response, but that doesn’t mean we should have low expectations! As we wait in joyful anticipation of the celebration of the birth of Christ tomorrow, it is good to remember that we should approach prayer with an expectant faith, confident God will be present and active in whatever situation we may be!

Friday: (no post on this topic, as it was Christmas day!)

Advent 2020 Prayer Study – Week 3

The third step of Lectio Divina is prayer. This may sound strange, since isn’t this whole process about praying with the Scriptures? The distinction here is not just doing something in a prayerful manner (eg reading or reflection), but actually talking with God. In our first steps there is a danger of just staying trapped in our own mind or thoughts. Here we need to turn that interior monologue into a dialogue with God. After reading and reflecting on the Scripture passage, what do we want to say to God? What do we want to ask God? For whom or what do we want to pray or give thanks?

Monday: Our ability to make tasks “routine” is often a good thing (eg we don’t want to spend as much time thinking about how to tie our shoes now as we did when we first learned!). However, this can lead to struggle in prayer since we can become less engaged with our conversation with God as our words become habitual. This can happen with formulas of prayer (like the Our Father) or even with our own patterns of thought if we make use of personal prayers. So, let’s look at the types of things we say in prayer, and remember what they really mean! I will guide the reflections this week along the structure of the beginning of Mass, since this is something that has become “routine” for many of us!

Tuesday: We make the Sign of the Cross as we begin Mass, and usually at the beginning of our personal prayers. This gives us an opportunity to reflect on who we are and to Whom we are speaking: we are a baptized child of God and are speaking with the Holy Trinity – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit! This connection of relationship is important to remember as we move from reflection on our Scripture reading into conversation with God.

Wednesday: After the Sign of the Cross comes the Penitential Rite, in which we ask pardon from God for failings “in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do.” Was there something in the Scripture passage that reminded us of a need to ask pardon? We can ask the Lord to give us the grace to learn from our faults. Honesty about failures helps to build a stronger relationship with God. And, although this is an important step, we remember that sorrow for sin is not the only step of prayer. Sometimes we might be tempted to skip saying sorry, but at other times we might be tempted to spend all of our time wallowing in our failures. Instead, we take the time to ask forgives so that we can clear the path to move forward.

Thursday: The Gloria comes after the Penitential Rite at Mass. Here we express our praise and thanksgiving to God in words that are drawn from the message of the angels to the Shepherds at Christmas. This is definitely the longest part of the opening rites to Mass, and I think that this is an important lesson. If we struggle with this prayer, the problem is probably not that the Gloria is too long and needs to be shortened, but that we need to grow in our awareness of gratitude and praise! After reading the passage of Scripture we we can speak with God about what ways it inspired us to give praise or thanks.

Friday: The final part of the introductory rites of Mass is the Opening Prayer or “Collect.” After having called to mind to Whom we are speaking in the Sign of the Cross, asked pardon for sins in the Penitential Rite, and given praise and thanks to God in the Gloria, we now “collect” together our prayers to ask God for what we need and for the needs of the world. What petitions come to our mind based on our meditation on the Scripture passage that we just read?

Advent 2020 Prayer Study – Week 2

The second step of the “lectio divina” method of praying with the Bible is called “Meditation.” This word can be used to mean many different things, and nowadays often is used in terms of what we spoke about last week – mental preparation for prayer in order to focus our attention, etc. However, in the classic sense this word refers not just to mental preparation, but to prayerful reflection and consideration of the Scripture passage. Last week we sought to read through the passage and pay attention to where we felt called to “go deeper.” The first step was like searching for spiritual food, and now in meditation we begin to chew and digest what we encountered. Our prayer to the Holy Spirit is important here so that it can be more than just human reflection or talking to ourselves in our head. What does this passage seem to be saying to us? How does it connect with or shine light on other parts of the Scriptures? What does it tell us about Christ, the Christian life, or heaven? All of these questions can help us to enter into a conversation with God, which we will discuss next week! Below are some daily reflections I posted on Facebook-

Monday: Can a word in Holy Scripture have several senses? St Thomas Aquinas considers this question in the beginning of his famous work called the Summa Theologiae/”Summary of Theology” (Q. 1 A. 10). He answers that yes, a word can have several senses, because God is able of speaking on many levels at once! St Thomas speaks of the literal sense of the text, and then three levels of spiritual meaning – the allegorical, the moral, and the anagogical. The rest of this week we will be looking at each of these for an aid to our meditation and prayer with Scripture!

Tuesday: The first “sense” of Scripture that St Thomas Aquinas identifies is the literal or historical sense. We may be tempted to skip over the account itself to look for other meanings, but taking the time to consider the scene in depth may help to shed new light on it. A method that could be helpful here is one we spoke of last week – the encouragement of Ignatius Loyola to put ourselves somewhere in the scene as an observer or participant. This can help us to understand the text in a way that prepares us for deeper spiritual senses contained within it!

Wednesday: In addition to the literal/historical sense of a passage, St Thomas identifies three spiritual senses. The first is the Analogical Sense, insofar as “the things of the Old Law signify the things of the New Law.” The Old Testament prepares for what happens in the New Testament. For example, St Paul sees a symbol for baptism in the Israelites crossing the Red Sea (1 Corinthians 10), and St Peter sees one in Noah’s Ark (1 Peter 3). In a related way, we may even see analogies within the New Testament itself (eg Jesus being lost in the Temple for three days in Luke 2 and Jesus being in the tomb for three days). So, one way of meditating on a passage is considering what analogies/connections it may have with other parts of the Bible!

Thursday: St Thomas’ second spiritual sense is the Moral Sense, “so far as the things which signify Christ, are types of what we ought to do.“ This is probably the most common one that comes to our mind, as it involves asking how the passage at hand can guide us in living a Christian life.  Our temptation can often be to try to change Christ into our own version of Him, but here we are invited to let him renew our way of thinking and acting so that we can be transformed into His image.

Friday: The final spiritual sense has the oddest name… the Anagogical Sense! St Thomas says this refers to “so far as they signify what relates to eternal glory.” In other words, how does this passage direct us to better understand the life of heaven? For example, the healing of the blind or lame may invite us to reflect on the joy of being set free from what binds us here. This sense can especially help to nourish our hearts with hope and desire when we are tempted by discouragement or sadness!

Advent 2020 Prayer Study – Week 1

This year our Advent study is on praying with the Bible, using the book “Praying Scripture for a Change” by Tim Gray as a guide. This book is my favorite introduction to “lectio divina,” the classic method of entering into a prayerful dialogue with the Scriptures. I hope that these reflections also help as a general aide in growing in prayer during this holy season.

The first classic step is “Lectio” – “reading.” It is important to begin with the right mindset. Our goal in prayerful reading is not just “getting through” the book, but savoring its content. This can be challenging for us since we often are focused on efficiency in our life. Instead, we should focus on growing in our relationship with God. We should take some time to reflect on when/where/how we will prepare to pray to help focus and avoid distractions (although the most important thing about praying is to actually pray! Don’t put off prayer just because a situation isn’t perfect), and then begin our reading with prayer.

If you are wondering what to pray with, I recommend the upcoming Sunday Gospel (which can be found at usccb.org under “Daily Readings”) or just reading through one of the Gospels chapter by chapter.

As we read, we should pay attention to what strikes us in the passage. Maybe it is a verse that encourages and inspires us, or a verse that challenges us or confuses us. Our goal at this point isn’t to begin to process it, but to discern where God is calling us to enter into our meditation and prayer. The remaining steps will guide us in how to respond to this passage.

Throughout this week I shared a number of additional thoughts on Facebook, which I will list below. Next week we will consider the second step: Meditation. God bless!

Monday: We can’t completely avoid distractions in prayer, but we can take measures to stay focused. St Charles Bellarmine offered this challenge at the last synod he attended, and I offer it as an invitation to reflect on the place, time, posture, and environment that might help us to enter into prayer: “Another priest complains that as soon as he comes into church to pray the office or to celebrate Mass, a thousand thoughts fill his mind and distract him from God. But what was he doing in the sacristy before he came out for the office or for Mass? How did he prepare? What means did he use to collect his thoughts and to remain recollected?”

Tuesday: Another key way that we can help to be attentive and focused in our prayer/reading is to begin with a prayer. Here is a classic prayer to the Holy Spirit, drawn from Psalm 104:30 – Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love. “Send forth your Spirit and they shall be created. And You shall renew the face of the earth.” O, God, who by the light of the Holy Spirit, did instruct the hearts of the faithful, grant that by the same Holy Spirit we may be truly wise and ever enjoy His consolations, Through Christ Our Lord, Amen.

Wednesday: Here is a very helpful reminder from the Catechism about dealing with distractions in prayer – sometimes we get flustered by them, when really what is needed is a simple response! “To set about hunting down distractions would be to fall into their trap, when all that is necessary is to turn back to our heart: for a distraction reveals to us what we are attached to, and this humble awareness before the Lord should awaken our preferential love for him and lead us resolutely to offer him our heart to be purified” (CCC 2729).

Thursday: St Ignatius Loyola often recommends in his Spiritual Exercises that the reader imagine themselves in a scene of the Scriptures. We may be an onlooker, or place ourselves in the role of someone in the scene. This can help us to enter into the passage that we are reading and spark details to bring to meditation and prayer.

Friday: A final piece of advice for this week to help engage and focus on the text we are reading is to see the way that it connects with the Old or New Testament. St Augustine wrote, “This grace [ie, the salvation of Christ] hid itself under a veil in the Old Testament, but it has been revealed in the New Testament.” The parts of the Bible are interconnected, and so looking for connections to other passages is another approach we can take during our reading to help prepare for our meditation.