The Buddha and the Christ

Remember back when I said my piece about "religion" vs "lifestyle" and how some folks like to mix-and-match religious beliefs to fit their personal views or interests? Time to get a bit more specific. How often I've heard that Buddhism and Christianity are compatible (interestingly, I've only ever heard white Americans make this claim). In short, no they are not. You cannot delve wholeheartedly into both. You will only end up depreciating the value of one, or more likely both.

I admit that, despite taking a great interest in Christian theology, I am nothing more than an (extreme) amateur. So how much less I must know about eastern religion; and yet I'm convinced that only a basic knowledge of the core tenets of Christianity and Buddhism are needed to prove their incompatibility.

The symbol of the new amalgam religion, Buddhianity. Heh. Booty.

Let's start with Buddhism. Central to Buddhist thought are the Four Noble Truths, the first teachings of the Buddha upon achieving enlightenment. We all learned a little about these in high school.

1. There is suffering. This suffering, called dukkha, includes physical suffering, inner suffering, and the general unsatisfactory nature of the world. Suffering is the cause of the life-death-rebirth cycle (samsara) which is driven by the action-result engine we call karma.

2. The origin of suffering is craving. Craving something (a pleasure, an experience, etc.) results in the suffering that pervades the world.

3. Suffering can be eliminated. This is the central goal of Buddhism. To eliminate suffering is to achieve enlightenment (nirvana or nibbana). The achieve enlightenment is, in turn, to be freed from the karmic cycle of samsara.

4. The Noble Eightfold Path is the means by which one escapes suffering. The Eightfold Path consists of: Right View, Right Intention, Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, and Right Concentration. Achieve these, and you can achieve nibbana.

Now I'm going to take each of these central Buddhist tenets and compare/contrast them with Christian theology.

1. That suffering exists cannot be denied. Like most systematized religions, Christianty attempts to explain and deal with the problem of human suffering. That it results in a cycle of literal rebirth, however, is the first major instance of irreconcilable difference. Rebirth in mainstream Christianity refers to rebirth into the life of Christ; it is not the literal rebirth that reincarnation envisions. There is the doctrine of the resurrection of the dead (inherited from Judaism) at the end of times, yet this again does not envision Buddhist rebirth (inherited from Vedic Indian religion). We live one literal life, die one literal death.

2. In Christianity, human suffering is caused by sin. Western Christian thought specifies our tendency toward sin as the result of original sin inherited from Adam. In Buddhism, suffering is caused by all desire. Do we sin because of our human desires? Absolutely. Do all of our desires result in or from sin? Absolutely not, because, despite our selfish desires, we also have a built-in desire for an all-good God. Unperturbed, this desire for God does not result in sin. Desire does not result necessarily in sin, therefore desire does not result necessarily in suffering. Basic teachings are again conflict.

3. Buddhism seeks to eliminate suffering in our lives. Christianity at its core teaches us to emulate a man who willingly subjected himself to extreme physical and emotional suffering. At the end of his or her life, is a saintly Christian eventually freed from suffering in the Kingdom of God? Yes; but in life, suffering in imitation of Christ is considered one of the greatest virtues. Christianity glorifies suffering. Buddhism attempts to reject and escape it. Can two views be any more different than this?

4. In Buddhism, the Noble Eightfold Path is the means by which a human being frees himself or herself from suffering. In Christianity, the Grace of God is the means by which a human being is freed by Christ from sin. The Christian believes that there is no freedom without the merit of another. So, yet again, I cannot see how these two ways of life can be fully reconciled.

If you couldn't tell, I am not a fan of needless religious syncretism. So, Christians, to use a far-eastern lifestyle for your own purposes is highly disrespectful to followers of that lifestyle. Additionally, to use another's religion to fill in what you perceive as gaps in your own religion is highly disrespectful to other Christians. Finally, using religion purely to seem trendy disrespects everyone, including yourself. Taking interest in other philosophies is one thing; attempting to pick at them for convenience's sake is another issue entirely. By all means choose your religious life, but please do not diminish it.

Little Signs

I have of late been praying for God to speak to me in a way which is direct enough to make more obvious the path He desires for me. I am not asking for supernatural "proof" of His existence like our friend St Thomas, but sometimes I can't help but feel like I'm being a little selfish. Not every "sign" is a fantastic revelation or vision from on high; God is always speaking to us in subtle ways, and we can hear His words if we are willing to.

When I first had started to regularly pray the rosary, I received a little sign. There had been a small storm, and the power in my house had gone out. About halfway through my rosary, I thought, Maybe I should pray for the lights to turn back on; but spontaneously I thought something else along the lines of, Nah, Mary and Jesus have bigger fish to fry than my minor inconvenience. I had not even begun to reach for the next bead when immediately the power came back on, and all the lights with it.

So what good did this "little sign" accomplish in me? Well, indeed, anything that even minutely increases a person's faith is a good thing. Additionally, since then I have started to slowly but surely cultivate a relationship with the Blessed Mother; I attribute this sign to her intercession since I was praying her rosary. Finally, it taught me that no prayer, however insignificant, is passed over and ignored by God, and that answering our little prayers is not a burden on the Almighty One.

Back in September, I started praying off-and-on for God to help me to see His Image in the faces of His people. At that time I could identify three people within memory in whom I had seen the Divine Visage. A couple months later, I witnessed the most intense Heavenly Joy that I had ever seen radiating from a man. I still have a ways to go, but seeing that man was yet another "little sign" for me; a sign that my prayers were being answered and that I was on a better path.

It's easy to reason away God's "little signs" as coincidences; but, if I may slightly twist the words of Commissioner James Gordon, "You're a Christian now, you're not allowed to believe in coincidences." If something increases your faith in Christ, it cannot be a meaningless coincidence. Our ability to have faith in Christ comes from the grace of Christ. If you're willing to see the world from that standpoint, then each of these happy accidents is indeed a "little sign."

Love, Part One

The following is adapted from some thoughts I've been writing in a book I call my "spiritual journal." Some folks, even amongst those who follow and believe in God as strongly as anyone, do not or cannot feel God's love in their lives (Mother Teresa was a prime example of this at certain times in her life). Now, an emotion like love is not something that should only be reasoned out logically. It must be experienced to be felt fully. Therefore, I recognize the imperfect and potentially futile nature of this post that attempts to "prove" that God loves us. That being said, I hope that perhaps my thought process will be at least a little helpful as it was to me.

Note: At no point do I attempt to argue for the existence of a deity, please do not take this as such. For better or worse, I'm starting with the base assumption that the universe was created by someone/something.

Love, Part One
The Necessity of God's Love

If there is a God, and I have come to believe with relative certainty that there is, then it seems to me that He must love us. I see no way around this. How could we exist if He did not love us?

Many who express belief in a Creator God, self-identified deists and others, assert that He made the universe yet does not interfere in its subsequent motions. He cares nothing of us in the sense that 'love' implies. I see two possible implications here.

1. We were created as some cosmic experiment for the Divine,

or...

2.We were created without purpose, for no reason, without meaning.

If God is the boundless, all-knowing Being that the name implies, then I must take issue with Implication #1. We cannot add to the knowledge, entertainment, or purpose of the already-infinite One Who made us from nothing. If, on the other hand, God is not the omnipotent being described, then He is not truly God. Thus, I outright reject Implication #1.

Regarding Implication #2, the notion that the universe is without any meaning or purpose whatsoever is not entirely unreasonable - if you are an atheist. Starting from the theist's point of view, however, I simply do not see how our universe can be a haphazard vacuum concocted by an aimless divinity. Would an all-perfect being create anything without an all-perfect purpose? His mind is not the mind of a mistake-making man. How can He be the cause of imperfection? Why would He be the cause of imperfection? If a being of immaculate understanding created us and our world, He must not have done so without reason.

So where do we stand? We were made for some purpose, yet that purpose cannot be the entertainment or edification of an already-perfect God. I see only one conclusion here... The universe was created for the universe's own sake. Indeed if there are only two things - Creator and creation - then the purpose of creation must be either for the former or for the latter itself. Ruling out the former as we previously have, this leaves but the one option. God desired that we be created not for His benefit, but for our own benefit.

We humans often quantify or describe our love for others in terms of positive or desirable qualities. Now, it isn't wrong to do this necessarily. "I love my wife because she is smart and beautiful and funny." "I love my friend because he understands me and he's always there for me." These are good statements because they compliment the loved one, but they most certainly do not encompass the fuller idea of 'love.' Intelligence, beauty, jocularity, empathy, and other 'lovable' qualities are great, but we tend to like these qualities because they are in some way beneficial to us. Would a man ever claim to love his wife simply because she is beneficial to him? Ideally, no. Love is that emotion of fondness for someone purely because they exist. Love at its fullest does not desire self-benefit, it desires the other and the benefit of the other.

Thus, I believe, God's desire to create for creation's sake insists that He loves that creation. What else could he feel for something He made yet cannot benefit him in the slightest? He did not make the universe because He was lonely, He made it out of love.

The Heart Nebula

And this is, uh, Maxine of Arc...

This is just a clarification post which felt needed regarding something I said last post. It'll be super-short, I promise. Since I didn't post anything for seventeen days this month, this is my way of meeting some arbitrary quota, I guess.

Last post, I stated that Catholicism is appealing on an intellectual level. I did not mean that Catholics are all smart people, or that people with strong faith are always the well-educated. Each of us is called to Christ. While the intricacies of Christian theology and apologetics may attract the Chesterton-type, Catholicism is at its best a religion of the meek. Faith isn't about deciphering doctrine like a formula, it's about accepting them as a necessary truth from God. Some weaker men, like myself, need to be convinced through axiomatic reasoning that one religion is right. Others know it to be right, down to their very bones. The strongest faith is the one that is felt, not the one that is intellectually unraveled.

Take the great French saint, Jeanne d'Arc, a favorite of mine (in no small part, I have to admit, due to one of my favorite movies). St Joan was an illiterate peasant girl in the fifteenth century. If there had even been any internet or books for her to study her Catholic faith, she still wouldn't have been able to read. Anything she learned about God and the Christian faith, she would have learned from her family and priest. Could she have articulated her faith rationally like Chesterton, or recited doctrine and Canon Law like the Pope? Probably not, I'd guess. And yet, she believed. She believed so strongly that she followed God's will for her into uncertainty, into war, and eventually into martyrdom. For her compliant and humble faith in the Lord, she has been given her eternal reward.

Do you wanna pray?

Okay, point made. 'Til next post!

Si diligitis me, mandata mea servate.

I Fought the Law, But (Thank God) the Law Won

The Faith-Works Cycle

Note: My thoughts and posts do not necessarily represent the accurate teachings of the Catholic Church, though I certainly hope I haven't strayed. Nonetheless, it is entirely possible that some view or wording expressed here is not quite right, though I think I'm in the clear. At no point do I state that faith alone saves, nor do I ever state that good works or adherence to the Law alone save us. If, however, something isn't quite in line with Catholic teaching, please let me know (with a citation from Scripture, a council, the Catechism, etc.) and I'll re-evaluate.

The readings at daily Mass yesterday were all about the Law. In context, of course, the passages were about the Jewish Law (or the Old Law, if you prefer) and how/whether it pertained to the early Christians. Basically, the Law is secondary to true faith in God. As Paul writes, "You are separated from Christ, you who are trying to be justified by law," not because the Law was bad, but because dependence on it is to no avail without Jesus. The Lord Himself called the Pharisees fools for being more concerned with cleanliness laws than their inner selves.

In his homily, Father talked the current role of the Law (talking now about Christian morals, the precepts of the Church... the "New Law," so to speak). His sermon emphasized that a strong faith in Christ and a true love of fellow man is our starting point, and only once we have that starting point will we begin to embrace the Law, not out of necessity but because we want to please God and help others. Let me get on record as saying that this is absolutely true and that I agree with Father's assessment. Like the Good Book says, "The just shall live by faith" (Hab 2:4, Rom 1:17, Heb 10:38).  The Psalm at Mass even said, "I will delight in your commands, which I love." This clearly implies a desire to follow God, not a somber follower of religious mandates. But I also think that in some people this process can work the other way, or (more likely) it can move in both directions. This isn't just my hypothesis; it's my own personal experience.

I was raised to believe in God, and I was Baptized when I was about seven (just in time for my First Communion and just early enough to still be considered below the so-called "age of reason"). I was never taught to doubt God's existence by family or school, and even briefly attended an Episcopalian elementary school where belief in the Christian God was assumed by anyone teaching. The seeds of true faith were planted, but I can't say I started actively participating in my Christian Journey until I was in middle school. I took an interest in religion, but the branch of Christian thought I lingered at was more on the Fundamentalist/Evangelical side of the spectrum. This appealed to me because of all the emphasis on the exciting literalist interpretation of Revelation, and also because it "required" so little of me beyond the whole "accept Jesus Christ as your personal savior" thing. Before long, however, as I studied more about basic (as well as some not-so-basic) Christian theology and history, I realized that Evangelical Christianity was very unappealing on an intellectual level.

Recently, during one of my many lengthy religious conversations with my grandmother, she said that Catholicism often appealed to the intellectual Christian because of its structured hierarchy, ethics, and theology. This doesn't mean that Catholics are all a bunch of smarty-pants (intellectual does not necessarily equal smart), nor does it mean that the Church is just a big religious bureaucracy. But, as I jokingly (and somewhat unfairly) responded, "We've got Thomas Aquinas, they've got Jimmy Swaggart." Gross generalizations aside, it's easy to see how someone who craves a rich history and well-reasoned theology would be attracted to the Church of Augustine of Hippo, Thomas Aquinas, Francis of Assisi, Ignatius Loyola, GK Chesterton, Mother Teresa... The list goes on and on.

So, slowly but surely, I found Catholicism appealing to me as a deeper form of Christianity. I must admit that my personal relationship with God, already pretty minimal, was not growing very fast. Nonetheless, I found myself more and more convinced that Catholicism was answering all the questions right, and everyone else had something wrong. I may not have known God very well, but I was starting to see what I thought He wanted from me. The only problem was that, for a long time, I didn't have the courage or the resolve to follow through with these morals, these rules, what have you. My faith in Christ led to (at first) a belief in the Law, but it wasn't a strong enough faith to get me to act on the Law.

Then after several years I found myself in a brand new situation. The opportunity to immerse myself into the life of the Church was placed conveniently in front of me. My faith in God wasn't really any greater than usual, but I knew I wanted something more in my life; and to be honest, like many Christians of weaker faith, I feared the possibility of eternal damnation. I didn't want my separation from the Lord to be a permanent and painful one. So I started trying to follow the Law for these less-than-perfect reasons, unsure of where it would take me. Despite the truth in Father's sermon yesterday, in my case the Law managed to strengthen my faith before my faith improved my understanding and following of the Law.

For example... I decided to start going back to Mass one Sunday. Then I found myself there every Sunday, like I was supposed to be. Then I actually found myself enjoying Mass to the point that once a week wasn't enough. So I started attending two or three times a week. As of now, five times a week isn't uncommon; not because I'm supposed to, not because I want to seem holier-than-thou, but because I seriously desire frequent reception of the Eucharist throughout the week. I discovered the benefits of the Mass with the Law as my starting place.

My experiences with the Sacrament of Reconciliation, personal prayer, forgiving others, etc. are similar ones. The requirements and recommendations of the Law led me to give these things and others a try, and from there I found myself doing more of what God wanted of me, not because some Catechism said so, but because I wanted to do the right thing. A bit of faith led to a bit of understanding of the Law. When I failed to follow "the rules," God made it easier for me by putting me in a more ideal position to do the right thing (mercy's an awesome thing). When I started following the Law, a stronger faith followed. That faith is still growing and hopefully will continue to do so for the rest of my life.

What's the moral of the story? I guess it's these three things:

1. Our faith in God indeed leads to a desire to follow His Law, but we as humans must not limit His power; He can just as well work through us in the other direction. Thus, I don't see the Christian life as only a straight line leading from faith to works, but instead as a cycle that increases both faith and works with each circuit.

2. A strong faith in Christ may not simply appear in a person one day; nor is it likely that a person will develop a strict adherence to Christian morals out of nowhere. But the cycle mentioned in Moral of the Story #1 can start spinning full-force at either end the Big Guy wills it to. My small faith may have been the starting point that got me to understand the Law, yet my practice of the Law was the starting point for my increase in faith. Jump into your cycle on whichever end is offered to you and God will help you get to the other end.

3. If God puts an opportunity in front of you to improve the way you're living the Christian life, sieze it!

If you love me, keep my commandments.
John 14:15

Don't Roman Catholics...? - Part 3

Have no fear, my friends - I'll be keeping this one pretty short but to-the-point. Not a lot of scripture in this one, just enough to prove one point and then common sense the rest of the way. Enjoy, fellow travelers.

Don't Roman Catholics...

... Use Crucifixes, Statues, Icons, and Other Images?

Dispelling Some Misconceptions

Let me first list some things I've heard folks claim about the Catholic use of images:

1. Catholics worship/pray to statues/images/etc. - Personally, I rarely hear this, but I'd be lying if I'd never encountered this claim. I know most of you reading this recognize that it isn't true, but I won't leave it unmentioned. It is true that we often pray before statues as a devotional aid, but certainly not to them. I'll address this more fully in a bit. As far as worshipping statues, well, no good Catholic worships anything or anyone but God. To worship anyone else would be heresy and blasphemy, so it falls to the accuser to prove otherwise I suppose.

2. Catholic images are graven images forbidden by God. - It's up to the discretion of non-Catholic Christians to believe whatever they want, but I'll just get this part out of the way. Yes, the First Commandment (or Second, depending on how your flavor of Christianity numbers it) includes a proscription against the making of idols, but this must be taken in the proper context. Five chapters of Exodus later, God actually demands that two golden cherubim be crafted as part of the Ark. The Jewish people weren't confused, and neither am I. As long as the Jews recognized that these statues were just representations not to be worshipped, then they were in the clear. Same thing now. Catholics don't believe a statue of a saint or a crucifix are anything but marble or wood, so we're also a-okay.

3. Catholics think their images, jewelry, etc. "do" something for them. - Indeed, I was recently asked by a good-willed non-denominational Christian friend of mine (not as an accusation, but as a legitimate question) what my Saints bracelet does for me. Physically speaking, it does absolutely nothing (except occasionally leave an annoying red mark on my wrist). It's just wood with little pictures glued on. I wear it for the same reason I often wear a cross (like many Christians). Jewelry, statues, and icons are not believed to be magic by any good Catholic.

I'm sure there's more, and if I encounter them then perhaps I will revisit this topic. But for now...

Pro Imaginibus

Christians smarter than me have addressed why we use images, but I'm just gonna keep it simple. I can't speak for other Catholics, but here are the main reasons that I personally use images.

1. Images help me to pray. Like I said, we don't pray to images. That being said, when I pray to the Lord or to the Saints, I like to be able to visualize the "conversation." Sometimes, praying in front of a wall or behind my eyelids just isn't enough. I often need something to help me focus on whom I speak to. It's much easier for me to devoutly pray before a crucifix as a reminder that I am speaking to the Man God that died for me. Asking for the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary is easier when I have a Madonna and Child icon to remind me of the loving relationship shared between the Lord and His Mother. This also relates to my next point.

2. Images serve a purpose similar to photographs of my friends and relatives. I keep photos of my mom as a reminder that I love her and she loves me. For the same reason, I always try to have a statue or image of my other Mother around. My friends and family who have supported me and enriched my life deserve some wall space, and so to do my Saintly patrons. Photographs of loved ones who have passed on are a staple of any photo shelf as a reminder of both the persons' lives and their admittance into the eternal mercy of the Lord. The lives and salvation of history's holy ones are due the same kind of recognition. The soldier's flag resting on a spouse's mantle is a sign of love and sacrifice. Should we not then recall the supreme act of love and sacrifice when we gaze upon the cross or crucifix?

3. As well as reminding me of Christ's and the Saints' actions, images remind me to personally live by their examples. It may seem a little goofy to others, but this really is true in my case. My crucifixes remind me daily that I should put others before myself. My Saints bracelet and medals remind me that it's okay and even preferable to randomly interject silent prayers when I desire even minute comfort or assistance. My Saint Joseph keychain reminds me to live out the virtues of Christian chastity as he did. The Saint Jude holy card next to my bed reminds me that oftentimes "lost causes" are not nearly as lost when you have God to rely on. The Virgin Mary embracing Christ's body in my miniature Pietà alongside my statue of the infant Christ embracing the His Mother both help me to recall and be thankful for how much I matter to my loved ones. Crude as it may sound, images can act as beautiful and virtuous Post-It notes, and in my case they are very effective in their daily reminders.

Told you I'd keep it short! 'Til next time!

Edit (10/10/2012): I like this person's post on crucifixes.

Videte qualem Caritatem dedit nobis Pater!

Sitting in my dorm room is a Madonna and Child statue. It's not particularly nice, as far as statues go. It isn't made of anything special, and while decently-sculpted, it lacks detail in some respects. I bought it from a thrift store, so it's ever so slightly damaged. I admit that the Christ-Child is missing a toe or two. But see, I wasn't really interested in an image of Christ with His mother getting any more damaged at that secondhand store, so it became mine.

At the base of the statue, part of a verse from the First Epistle of John is inscribed:

See what love the Father has given us
1 John 3:1

John was definitely into God's love, and out of the Evangelists he seemed to be the most aware of Christ's divinity. In his Gospel, he refers to himself as "the disciple whom Jesus loved" (Jn 13:23). Both this verse and the aforementioned one in Greek refer to agape, a self-sacrificing and unconditional love that is distinct from philia (brotherly love, though John will refer to this, as well) and eros (erotic love). Agape is one of those need-to-know concepts that shows up in the Bible and other Christian writings. I imagine that if all men and women lived their lives with perfect, unconditional love, then the Big Guy would be satisfied with us.

So why is this fraction of a verse on the statue? It's a bit odd if you know the rest of the verse and onwards. In fact, it's a good bit out of context, since there's nothing in the rest of the passage about Mary and Jesus. But as a phrase in and of itself, it seemed so fitting.

Consider the relationship between Mary and Jesus. Each has a two-fold relationship with the other, because each is fulfilling two roles for the other. Mary is the best example of someone who loves God without hesitancy simply because He is her God, but she is also a loving mother. Jesus Christ, in turn, is both the all-merciful God who loves her right back, as well as a son who simply loves his mother. To me, this is perhaps one of the most beautiful images in all of creation. Unconditional, self-sacrificing love between Creator and creation (the summit of our Christian Journey) alongside and intertwined with the unconditional love between a mother and her child. Love cyclically and ceaselessly begetting love. That is the beauty of the Incarnation. What love the Father has given us.

We often seek to follow Christ as an example for living, or the Blessed Virgin Mary. But it is important to remember the example they set in conjunction with one another. Imagine if we loved each other as they did. Imagine Paradise. But few of us love even one other person that much. Is that not a humbling thought? It really makes a Christian realize how far he has to go on his Journey, if he can't even love a single other human being with anything close to the love between Christ and Mary. Don't get me wrong, it's a tall order, and we won't likely get it perfect until we're long gone, but God doesn't ask for the impossible, He just asks us to try out best. Think how much better our world would be if we each had some sense of the love the Father gave us in the image of the Blessed Mother and Holy Child. Then try your best, with Christ at your side, to go out and make that world.

Journalism at its finest, Part 2

That last post was fun. But in all seriousness, these articles about "The Gospel of Jesus' Wife" are pretty sensationalist. So I'm going to nitpick D'Antonio's article from Huffington Post.

The ancient Coptic document includes the phrase "Jesus said to them, my wife" using a term that undoubtedly references a woman who was his spouse and not some metaphorical partner.

While I'm sure Mr. D'Antonio knows his Coptic very well, I personally would love to know what this term is since he mentioned it.

... latter half of the Second Century

This alone should stop Christians from being too worried about their beliefs regarding Jesus' celibacy. The canonical gospels are all late first century, written by folks who at the very least were not very many degrees separated from Jesus and the original Apostles. During the second century, there was not yet a consensus on the books of scripture, and there were certainly no "Bibles." So if someone was trying to fill in the gaps of Jesus' life (and this happened more than a few times), it shouldn't be a surprise that some stuff like this slipped through the cracks.

"Christian tradition has long held that Jesus was not married, even though no reliable historical evidence exists to support that claim"

Professor King here isn't really proposing much. There's also no reliable historical evidence to support the claim that Jesus didn't invent the fist bump, or the claim that Jesus and the Twelve weren't actually a traveling dance group. Seriously?

The implications of professor King's discovery are profound. If Jesus was married, the main spiritual argument for male-only clergy and the celibacy of Roman Catholic priests falls into question. (Priests wouldn't need to abandon sex in order to imitate him.) But more importantly, if Jesus was a family man, then the claim to special status made by Catholic clergy, who regard themselves as supernaturally closer to God, loses much of its power.

Oh, boy. I don't even know where to begin. I don't know about this "main" spiritual argument for male-only clergy and clerical celibacy is, but I'm pretty sure that the author here doesn't, either. 

First, male-only clergy exists on one hand because Jesus came to earth as a man, but on the other hand because Jesus (as portrayed in the canonical gospels) didn't actually ordain any women to do his work! Find me a passage in which a woman lays on hands to impart the Holy Spirit, and we'll talk.

Second, clerical celibacy is not a Catholic dogma. Yes, (most, but not all) Roman Catholic priests may not marry. However, Eastern Catholic priests as well as certain exceptions in the Roman Church are allowed to be married before they become priests. Clerical celibacy is a discipline that may change if the Church allows. Dogma, however, is unchanging.

Third, talking about priests abandoning sex makes it sound like it was okay for them to have sex in the first place. Catholics might seem to have a lot of 'sex rules,' but the gist of it is this: not married, no sex. That's for everyone, not just priests.

Fourth, this whole "special status" and "supernaturally closer to God" business is just outright not so. Priests are people like the rest of us. They have the ability to administer sacraments and such, but these are people who make basically no money and exist to serve God and the community. If they're closer to God it's because they've chosen to do God's Will, not because they have some "special status." I have never heard a priest claim to be "closer to God," and I've heard several claim to be no better than their congregants.

... the fragment points to time when the church "had no real organization."

It may not have been like today, but honestly? Historically speaking, there were bishops who oversaw local churches in the absolute earliest days of Christianity. There's a book not six feet from me filled with quotes from early Christian leaders from the first and second centuries. All the other stuff in this paragraph of the article is pretty extreme but is without much evidence (except, of course, for the testimony of an "expert in celibacy..." Kind of a funny epithet, heh).


There's more I could pick at, but I'm getting a migraine just thinking about all the other sensationalist articles about this codex that came out today. I apologize for the poor structure, I just wanted to say my piece.

Journalism at its finest

Was Jesus a Pens Fan?

The recent discovery of an ancient Christian text is threatening to force Christians and sports fans alike reconsider their worldview.

Last month, three fragments of a what is believed to be an ancient Coptic manuscript were discovered inside of a waste bin in Pittsburgh's Consol Energy Center. Though small, these papyrus fragments, deemed The Gospel of Mario Lemieux, include phrases suggesting that the historical Jesus was in fact from a family of avid hockey fans.

While Christian tradition has always maintained that ice hockey did not come into existence until the nineteenth century AD, said one prominent papyrologist from a Pennsylvania community college, this newly-discovered gospel seems to indicate that at least some early Christians thought otherwise.

These fragments lend credence to the popular notion that Leonardo Da Vinci painted a hidden Penguins pennant in a lesser-known piece portraying Jesus, Mary, and Joseph at their home in Nazareth. One Art History graduate student even claims that Perugino's Delivery of the Keys originally portrayed Christ handing his favorite hockey stick to St. Peter, but that several decades later it was altered at the orders of Pope Julius II, best-known as a patron of Michelangelo. This covert alteration of Perugino's painting represents the expanding power of a Church terrified of all things threatening to orthodoxy, said the student last week.

Not all scholars are convinced of The Gospel of Lemieux's authenticity, however.

There's just too much evidence to the contrary, countered an Internet theologian. Take the widely-accepted Protoevangelium of Lord Stanley. According to it, Jesus was actually from Montreal, and would naturally have been a Canadiens fan, and certainly not a Pens supporter.

Others point to the also recently discovered Gospel of Jesus' Wife in conjunction with The Secret Gospel of Ovechkin. While one seems to indicate that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene, the other clearly states that Mary was a staunch Washington Capitals fan.

No self-respecting Capitals fan would ever marry a Pittsburgh supporter, Jesus or not, said one Washington DC resident. So if Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene, and Mary was a Caps fan, then Jesus couldn't possibly be a Pens fan.

Professor Kyle Broflovski, however, maintains that Jesus and his family were Pittsburgh fans through-and-through. Of course you can't prove that Jesus wasn't a Pens supporter! Just like you can't prove that Moses didn't play center for the Lakers!

Biblical scholars are now investigating Professor Broflovski's claim regarding Moses' basketball talent.

Usquequo abscondes faciem tuam a me?

It is important to try to see God wherever you look. After all, He created the universe and continues to influence everything. His signature can be found written all over history and woven into the fabric of creation. As the book of Sirach so concisely put it, He is all. It's really not difficult to see God in everyday life. I personally find that I am able to see Him in happenstance occurrences, in nature when I walk outside, and even in certain communities of people.

I confess, however, that I am borderline incapable of seeing the face of God in individuals. This frustrates me to no end, seeing as how each and every human being is made ad imaginem Dei (to the image of God). It doesn't make me evil or anything for not perceiving the Face of God in the people I meet, but it makes it increasingly difficult both to treat them as I'd have them treat me and to treat them as I'd treat Jesus.

Let me explain (and I pray you won't think less of me afterwards). When I see a total stranger, I can't help but immediately notice all of their outward aspects (clothing, facial expression, the way they carry themselves, race, gender, etc.), and almost immediately my compulsive mind forms an opinion - a negative opinion, more often than not. This isn't something that I consciously do, it just sort of happens in the moment and then presents itself to me. My more friendly and rational self says, Self, you know this opinion is based on nothing but your absurd preconceptions. Nonetheless, my newly-formed judgment of the book based on its cover has already pervaded my mind. Because of this, complete strangers turn into whomever my brain wants them to be before I give myself a chance to see them as miraculous creations.

If you thought my judgment of strangers was bad, wait for my judgment of people whom I actually know. Don't get me wrong, I love my friends and family and know that I'm blest to have them. But, in contrast to strangers, it would seem that I know too much about my actual acquaintances. I don't mean that I ignore their positive aspects, nor do I mean that their shortcomings make me think badly of them. I simply mean that their faults (or, what I vainly perceive as faults) make it nigh impossible for me to see the Face of God in these children of His. Instead I see only imperfect beings.

I may be unskilled at seeing the beauty of humanity's individuals, but do not think of me as feeling vastly superior to everyone I meet. If I know too much about my peers and family, then indeed I know far more about my own imperfections. Do I hate myself? No. At least, not nowadays. Consciously, I am fully aware that God loves me and that I'm not a bad person. Discovering this was one of the greatest blessings I have ever received; but when I look in the mirror, I do not see an ounce of the Divine Visage reflected there. I am not deeply or depressingly plagued by this, because I am fully aware that what I perceive is a lie I subconsciously tell myself. To say that it isn't a troubling lie, however, would be yet another falsehood.

Of course, when I talk about the Face of God, I don't mean that I should be seeing the Divine Countenance superimposed atop of other's faces. I'm totally okay being alive, thank you very much. But that imago Dei I mentioned earlier is a part of us. If we are each made in the Big Guy's image (take that to mean what you will), then we all deserve better from each other than the kind of judgment people like me heap upon others and ourselves. If you can see God's Face in your own and other's, then you will likely find yourself treating people as such. For me, however, it's like the hardest freaking Where's Waldo? in existence. I know the little guy is there, but God help me, I just cannot seem to look past all the other stuff.

I'm not completely blind, mind you. In writing this, I've been trying to think of the few people I've met in whom I have successfully seen the Face of God. Three come to mind (I know, I know, I have a long way to go). First, a relative of mine whose many life experiences have led to an incredibly deep love of God and of other people. She taught me about the Lord long before I started loving Him, and is still perhaps the greatest religious inspiration in my life. Second, a young man from my campus ministry whom I only met a few times, but who emanated an infectiously spiritual joy that I can only describe as God-given. Though only a couple years older than me, this young man has since gone to his reward. I still vividly recall my brief encounters with him. Third, a priest whom I have had occasional interactions with, who is outwardly thrilled to be doing the Lord's work, whether it be the Mass, Reconciliation, or otherwise. He seems to be always smiling that same smile we've all seen on the face of Pope John Paul II, who simply radiated the joy of the Lord.

It can indeed be a sad thing to look at oneself and see no resemblance to one's father. So too do I occasionally regret my inability to see the divine spark in myself and others. If I could just step through that perceived veil, it would be easier for me to feel Christian kinship toward everyone else. I truly wish it were different. However, Blessed Teresa of Calcutta continued to do the Lord's work ceaselessly even though she frequently felt abandoned by His presence. So I have no excuse to not do my best as a Catholic!

If you're like me and have a hard time seeing the Face of God in some aspect or aspects of creation, then I suggest turning to the Psalms for prayer. They're full of verses about seeing God's Face. I took some of them and turned them into my own little prayer:

How long will You hide Your face from me?
Answer me quickly, O Lord, my spirit fails; do not hide Your face from me, or I will become like those who go down to the pit.
When You said, "Seek My face," my heart said to You, "Your face, O Lord, I shall seek."
Do not hide your face from your servant, for I am in distress; answer me quickly.

Don't Roman Catholics...? - Part Two

Don't Roman Catholics...

... Believe in Purgatory?

What Does the Church Say?

First of all, let's take a peek at what the Catechism of the Catholic Church has to say on the matter:

The Final Purification, or Purgatory

1030 All who die in God's grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven.

1031 The Church gives the name Purgatory to this final purification of the elect, which is entirely different from the punishment of the damned. The Church formulated her doctrine of faith on Purgatory especially at the Councils of Florence and Trent. The tradition of the Church, by reference to certain texts of Scripture, speaks of a cleansing fire:

It goes on to quote St Gregory the Great (he references Christ's implication that some but not all sins can be forgiven post-death in Mt 12:31-32), and then briefly talks about the belief in prayers for the dead (I'll get to that later). But this is pretty much it. Of course, many people, councils, popes, other bishops, and saints have elaborated on this final purification. "Officially," however, this is basically the extent of the Church's teaching on Purgatory. Two paragraphs on what it is, one paragraph on praying for the souls in it, a quote, and some references. Considering that Purgatory is often seen as one of those odd, controversial beliefs, this is a surprisingly small amount of information. So let's flesh it out, bit by bit.

Are You Ready for Heaven?

The men and women in Heaven (those Saints from Part One) are the result of full submission to God. They are, in their current state, the men and women who are the most Christ-like in all of creation. They love as God loves, or at least insofar as any non-God is able. They are always exalting and praying to the Lord. They do not sin. They're as perfect as mankind can get.

But they weren't always that way. They used to be imperfect beings, just like us. More likely than not, very few people in history have become as holy-minded as the Saints in Heaven by the ends of their lives. Most only become this way after dying.

Consider yourself. Perhaps you and the Big Guy are on good terms, you're living the Christian life, you've got no major sins that you haven't repented of... As far as people go, you're a good one in God's book. Let's say, then, that you die. A meteor hits you, or whatever. Ask yourself, if that happened today, are you ready for Heaven as you are? Good person, yes. Person with ceaseless, all-encompassing, and perfect love of God? I won't say you can't be that person in life, but I will venture to guess that most people, even the good ones, aren't that good by the time they die. And yet, once they get to Heaven, they really are that good. They really do love God with all their being.

What happened?

Many people might not believe in the Catholic conception of Purgatory, but I would imagine that most of them nonetheless agree that God transforms people into something better when they die. This process by which men who imperfectly love God are transformed into Saints who perfectly love God is what Catholics call Purgatory. 

There shall not enter into it any thing defiled
Revelation 21:27

"It may hurt, you know."

So, if we have to be changed to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, what changes us? Okay, God does, obviously. That's what the Journey's all about, God changing us into our best selves. But through what means does He purify us? I mean, if He wanted to He could just make us perfect with a divine snap of the fingers. But that's not really how this stuff tends to work. God seems to like to change us through our choices and experiences. If our experiences are what God uses to change us in life, why wouldn't it be the same if we needed to be changed after death?

Scripture implies that suffering brings us closer to Christ by "burning up" our flaws (1 Cor 3:15, 1 Pet 1:6-7, 1 Peter 4:13). On the surface, these verses are talking about the suffering we experience in our lives, yet there is no particular reason to believe that this is any different post-death. Like the Catechism says, Purgatorial suffering is in no way the same as eternal Hellfire. I like to equate it more with the temporal sufferings of this life. As Christians, we know that these sufferings temper us and allow us to participate more closely in the mission of Christ. After all, if we are truly to be as Christ-like as possible, then suffering isn't just an afterthought, but a necessity. Thus, Purgatory isn't the Big Guy's vengeance against smaller sins and flaws, but His final way of making us more like His Son. This point of view is why I don't fear the possibility of Purgatory, but welcome it as something that, even on a good day, I will probably desperately need. Clive Staples Lewis (I love that guy), not even a Catholic, seemed to espouse this view in a painful purification for at least part of his life:

Our souls demand Purgatory, don't they? Would it not break the heart if God said to us, "It is true, my son, that your breath smells and your rags drip with mud and slime, but we are charitable here and no one will upbraid you with these things, nor draw away from you. Enter into the joy?" Should we not reply, "With submission, sir, and if there is no objection, I'd rather be cleaned first" "It may hurt, you know." - "Even so, sir."
(C.S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer)

More Dead Guys

You want more Catechism, you got more Catechism.

1032 This teaching is also based on the practice of prayer for the dead, already mentioned in Sacred Scripture: "Therefore [Judas Maccabeus] made atonement for the dead, that they might be delivered from their sin."(2 Macc 12:46) From the beginning the Church has honored the memory of the dead and offered prayers in suffrage for them, above all the Eucharistic sacrifice, so that, thus purified, they may attain the beatific vision of God. The Church also commends almsgiving, indulgences, and works of penance undertaken on behalf of the dead:

          Let us help and commemorate them. If Job's sons were purified by their father's sacrifice, why would we doubt that our offerings for the dead bring them some consolation? Let us not hesitate to help those who have died and to offer our prayers for them. (cf. Job 1:5)

Catholics, Orthodox, and some others include Second Maccabees in the Canon of Scripture. For various reasons, Protestants do not include it in the official Canon, though some still hold it (and the rest of the deuterocanonical texts) in good regard. The place for explaining the canonicity of the Deuterocanon is not here, so if you don't think 2 Maccabees is part of God's inspired word, then the prayers and offerings to the dead referenced in it are of little importance to you. So I'll try to approach this from another perspective.

Remember in Part One when I talked about the three states of the Church? The Church Triumphant (Saints), the Church Penitent (souls in Purgatory), and the Church Militant (us). One of the big things that unifies us is prayer. The living pray for each other. We pray to the Saints for their prayers, and the Saints pray for us. This goes for the the souls of the dead, as well. We pray for them, the Saints pray for them, and I have little doubt that they pray for us. Why not?

We living Christians pray that God have mercy on each other. If there are souls anticipating Heaven, ought we not pray that God have mercy on them, as well? Yes, the Church Penitent are assured their salvation; but if prayer in general is efficacious, then any help along the way that our prayers can offer are worth it. We don't know the exact nature of Purgatory, but we do know that there are people there who are not yet in Heaven. They need prayers just like the rest of us.

There are a lot of smarter folks who've said and written great things regarding prayers for the dead; but to me it's as simple as one person praying for another person.

Pray, then Vote... then Pray Again.

As we approach election time, I thought it would be good to point out the importance of prayer for our United States and for elected officials.

It's really, really, really important!

I don't think I need to explain myself about why prayer is important; big, bold letters will suffice for now. So anyways, I stole a few nice-sounding prayers as recommendations during the election, though anything will do. Prayer is prayer, after all.

A prayer for our country:

Almighty God, bless our nation and make it true to the ideas of freedom, justice, and brotherhood for all who make it great.
Guard us from war, from fire and wind, from compromise, fear, and confusion.
Be close to our president and our statesmen; give them vision and courage, as they ponder decisions affecting peace and the future of the world.
Make me more deeply aware of my heritage; realizing not only my rights, but also my duties and responsibilities as a citizen.
Make this great land and all its people know clearly Your will, that they may fulfill the destiny ordained for us in the salvation of the nations, and the restoring of all things in Christ. Amen.

A prayer for the president and other elected officials:

God of power and might, wisdom and justice, through you authority is rightly administered, laws are enacted, and judgment is decreed.
Assist with your spirit of counsel and fortitude the president and other government leaders of these United States. May they always seek the ways of righteousness, justice, and mercy.
Grant that they may be enabled by your powerful protection to lead our country with honesty and integrity.
We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.

A prayer before voting:

Gracious and loving God, let your Spirit be with us today. Hear our prayers, and increase in us the will to follow your Son Jesus.
Help us to draw on the resources of our faith as we use the opportunities of our democracy to shape a society more respectful of the life, dignity, and rights of the human person, especially the poor and vulnerable.
We ask this through Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God forever and ever. Amen.

Remember when you go to vote, if you're a follower of Christ, then that is your most important identity. You might be a registered Republican or a registered Democrat (or even a registered I'm-too-cool-for-mainstream-parties guy), but first and foremost you are a registered Christian in the Big Guy's book. When a Christian does anything, ideally he or she should let God guide his or her actions. This goes for voting, too. More likely than not, that means that neither side is gonna be perfect. So you have to have issues that are priorities. The law of God is non-negotiable, so some of your political beliefs should be, too. Vote for the guy or the party whose accumulated actions you honestly think will do the best for the country by God's standards. 


Edit (9/4/12): This article raises good points about the Catholic role in politics.

Ego te absolvo

Since forgiveness is kinda the central theme of Christianity, it's gonna come up a lot on the Journey as well as on this blog. But how exactly does it figure in to our lives? We talk a lot about the Big Guy forgiving us in exchange for basically nothing. In a way, this concept of free forgiveness is the most uncomfortable and difficult thing to believe in Christianity. We feel far too unworthy to buy into this free gift sometimes. There's nothing wrong with trying to do the right thing by living a holier life; but oftentimes, when the offer of a clean slate seems too good to be true, we think we can balance out the bad with good instead of accepting God's gift. Make no mistake, there is a temporal debt for the effects of sin (more on that in the future perhaps), but no amount of good deeds or penance will make God forgive you. Christ earns your forgiveness, not you.

However, we humans like to put our own price tags on forgiving other people. Oh yes, we're almost always willing to forgive the people who wrong us... as long as they admit that they were wrong and by some act appease us. That's a big no-no. I used to be like this all the time. Not on accident, either. If you had asked me then, I would have described my forgiveness as something to be given only to those who ask. My view on forgiveness was so skewed that I had no intention of forgiving those who greatly wronged me without some form of apology. My justification for this? Well, I figured that if the Big Guy only forgave people who asked for His forgiveness, then maybe that's how people should be, too. I didn't sit around hating every person who wronged me, but I had no intention of offering my forgiveness without a "reason."

 Sometimes I marvel at how spiritually stuck up I was (and sometimes still am). Who did I think I was? Did I fancy my forgiveness some kind of luxurious commodity that all my peers craved? Like most big sinners (and I'm the biggest), I fancied myself in some way equal to the Almighty. Subconsciously perhaps, but nonetheless it's true. Anyone who sees their personal forgiveness as something valuable only to be given to the apologetic peons at their feet has some kind of God complex. Here's why my former philosophy was really stupid:

1. I thought God would only forgive openly sorry people. Well, this just isn't true. Yes, God asks for our sorrowful penitence, but He isn't limited to this if He doesn't want to be. For instance, in Matthew chapter 9, Jesus forgives the cripple's sins without so much as a word from the man (in fact, He seems to do this based on the faith of the paralytic's companions; maybe I'll return to Matthew 9 whenever I talk about infant baptism...). This isn't to say that we shouldn't confess our sins and apologize to God as much as possible, but it absolutely does mean that my faulty reasoning was limiting the scope of God's mercy.

2. I was ignoring the commandments of Jesus. When Peter asked the Lord how many times to forgive someone who sins against him, Jesus said, "... till seventy times seven times" (Matthew 18:21-22), figuratively meaning every time (although 490 times is a good starting point, I suppose). The old standby "Judge not..." envisions this unconditional forgiveness, as well (Luke 6:37). Jesus also said, "... when you shall stand to pray, forgive, if you have aught against any man; that your Father also, who is in heaven, may forgive you your sins" (Mark 11:25). And let's not forget the Lord's Prayer: "And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors" (Matthew 6:12). These last two, interestingly enough, seem to imply that the Big Guy won't be so eager to forgive us if we don't forgive others. Yikes.

3. I thought I knew who needed forgiving. What human being can see into the soul of another (well, besides Christ obviously, but He's God. Hypostatic union and all that)? Not me. When someone does something I don't like, or something that negatively effects me, I have no right to condemn. The state of that person's eternal soul is a matter between him/her and God. There is no requirement that I like whatever this person did, but there is a requirement that I forgive them; because in the end only God knows if they're guilty, only God knows if they're sorry, and only God has the right to judge them.

Yep, I was a big moron, and once I realized what I was supposed to be doing, I felt like this at first:

However, this realization was one of the most central transformations of my Christian Journey. I wish I could remember how exactly it happened, but I can't. It was more of a gradual process.

Nowadays, I try to forgive unconditionally. There are some people that I occasionally falter in forgiving, but I try. We all face a failure to forgive sometimes. But fret not! Let's talk about what forgiveness isn't! It isn't the same as forgetting, reestablishing complete trust, or pretending nothing happened. God doesn't ask us to be naïve, He only asks us to give others the benefit of the doubt when it comes to the state of their souls (it wouldn't hurt to pray a bit for them, too). Also, I have to admit, I've found forgiveness to be a surprisingly healthy way to get rid of emotional baggage. I highly recommend it. Sometimes, I even feel like this:

Don't Roman Catholics...? - Part One

One of my early intentions for this blog was to dispel misconceptions held by many about the Church. Thus, Don't Roman Catholics...? was born. Not intended for straight evangelization, these posts are purely for shedding some light on the many misconceptions regarding Catholic Christianity that I have heard and encountered from Christ's followers of different denominations. As the totally awesome Archbishop Fulton Sheen once said:

"There are not a hundred people in America who hate the Catholic Church. There are millions of people who hate what they wrongly believe to be the Catholic Church - which is, of course, quite a different thing."

Don't Roman Catholics...

... Pray to Saints?

Praying for One Another

Have you ever asked a friend or a relative (or even a stranger or entire church congregation) to pray for you or some intention of yours? Have you ever been asked for your prayers? If your answers were "No," then I highly recommend you start asking for prayers and start meeting people who are willing to ask for your prayers. Why? Well, the New Testament talks a lot about praying for each other and asking for prayers. Take St Paul, for example:

I beseech you therefore, brethren, through our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the charity of the Holy Ghost, that you help me in your prayers for me to God

Romans 15:30

or St James the Just:

... and pray for one another, that you may be saved. For the continual prayer of a just man availeth much.

James 5:16

So it seems pretty clear that the Christian community is to pray for each other. But who is the just man whose prayer is so efficacious? Well, obviously, that could be anyone, but it is still worth considering. In all of humanity, who is the most "just" (besides Jesus, of course)? Or rather, who is closest to God? Ponder that.

What is the Church, and Who Do Catholics Consider Saints?

Let's talk about what the Church is for Catholics. Is it a building, or group of buildings? Or perhaps just the vague concept of God's Will in the universe? Is it a bunch of robed men who make rules for the rest of us? Is it just the laypeople?

Nope. The Church in the most accurate sense is the united people of God. Who are these people? Well, there are three states of the Church Universal (oh, by the way, that's what Catholic Church means). Each state compromises a different group of people, but all are in communion with the others as members of the unified Church.

1. Ecclesia Militans (the Church Militant) - That's us, the Christian people living on earth. We, who wrestle "against principalities and power, against the rulers of the world of this darkness, against the spirits of wickedness" (Eph. 6:12). When I talk about the travelers on the Christian Journey, these are the people I speak of.

2. Ecclesia Penitens (the Church Penitent), or Ecclesia Expectans (the Church Expectant) - The Christian dead who do not garner eternal damnation, but have yet to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. These are those whom "suffer loss" but are "saved, yet so as by fire" (1 Cor. 3:15). They still need to be purified of certain qualities before joining with God. This will be a good topic to return to in some future post about Purgatory and prayers for the dead.

3. Ecclesia Triumphans (the Church Triumphant) - Those who have entered into the victorious salvation of the beatific vision. These are the men and women who reside with God in Heaven, also known as Saints. Since a Saint is someone who is in Heaven, we also call angelic beings saints (i.e. St Michael, St Raphael, and St Gabriel). The righteous dead (particularly prophets like Moses, Abraham, etc.) who left the realm of the living before the victory of Christ, whom He rescued at the Harrowing of Hell (ah, another good topic for the future), are also considered Saints. Since "there shall not enter into [Heaven] any thing defiled" (Rev. 21:27), it can be assumed that the Church Triumphant are the most perfect creatures of God. They no longer sin, nor do they retain the inclination toward sin that the Church Militant have. These Saints are the most Christ-like of all created beings; thus, their lives are often a great example for us to live by. God wants us to be like them, because like them is being more like Christ.

As the most perfect creatures of God, it can be assumed that the Saints in Heaven follow God's rules to a tee. If the New Testament is the real deal (yet another topic idea), then it can be presumed that the Saints "pray without ceasing" (1 Thess 5:17), like the Apostle Paul said people ought to.

So let's lay all this out:

• if we are to "pray for one another," as well as ask for the prayers of other Christians;
• if the aforementioned "continual prayer of a just man availeth much";
• if the most just of all men (and women) are the Saints, who are present in Heaven with Christ (the mediator between man and God); and
• if the Saints are ceaselessly praying before the throne of God;

then, who better in all of creation is there to ask for prayers on our behalf than the Saints?

Dead Guys

"But Joseph," you might ask, "that's all well and good, but shouldn't we just ask for prayers from other living people? After all, the Saints are... dead." Without getting into the difference between "death" and "eternal life," I see your point. So I guess I should group the skeptical into two categories. Those who talk to dead guys, and those who don't talk to dead guys.

1. Those Who Talk to Dead Guys - Most Christians I know seem to have no problem talking to dead people (No I don't mean Ouija boards and seances, stay away from that unless you want a bad case of the Linda Blairs). Deceased friends and relatives? We talk to them all the time! It's comforting, and we have no problem saying and asking them things without expecting a direct verbal response. We even visit their grave sites or look at pictures of our loved ones because we feel closer to them that way.

This is very much like praying to Saints. We talk to Saints, ask them favors through their prayerful intercession, look upon images or statues of them, and visit their relics or holy sites. So for those of you who have no problem talking to the dead whom you know, I have found it extremely beneficial to cultivate a kind of personal relationship with certain Saints so that speaking to them feels like speaking to a family member whom I believe to be in Heaven.

2. Those Who Don't Talk to Dead Guys - These folks, understandably, are not comfortable talking to the dead, whether they be Mary and the Apostles or their own great-grandparents. I would direct them to this classic yet confusing verse:

... the four living creatures, and the four and twenty ancients fell down before the Lamb, having every one of them harps, and golden vials full of odours, which are the prayers of saints
Rev 5:8

A bit confused? So was I. Revelation is a complicated book. So hopefully we can break it down.

The four living creatures are traditionally recognized as the four evangelists (Saints Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John) by major early Church Fathers such as St Ireneaus, St Augustine, and big-time Biblical authority St Jerome. They are identified as such because back in Revelation 4 they are seen standing at the base of God's throne and carrying it, just as the evangelists carried the God to Christians via the Gospels.

The four and twenty ancients are identified with what we now call "Saints" (we'll get to why those other "saints" are mentioned in a moment). Numbers being such a big thing all over John's Apocalypse, the twenty-four isn't random. It is believed to refer to Saints because twenty-four is twice twelve; there are twelve main Apostles and there are twelve tribes of Israel. In a broader sense, this refers to old Israel and the new Israel, both "peoples of God." Thus the number twenty-four represents the Church Triumphant, or the Saints.

The Lamb is Jesus, the sacrificial Lamb of the New Covenant. Don't need to go to far into that, its pretty straight forward as far as Revelation goes.

The saints here (I'm using a lowercase "s" - I've seen it more descriptively translated as "the holy people") are actually the Church Militant. The New International Version of the Bible refers to them as "God's people." It isn't the only time that Scripture refers to the living Christians as "saints," it just isn't the same use of the word as is used to talk about the Saints in Heaven.

So, rolling it back together, we get something along the lines of: the evangelists (who are undoubtedly in Heaven), the old Saints of Israel (in Heaven also), and new Saints of the Church (also in Heaven) are all offering up to Jesus the prayers of God's people on earth. If all those dead guys in Heaven know our prayers, then I guess God let's them hear our prayers. That sounds to me like a pretty concise definition for the Intercession of the Saints!

Don't Forget the Big Guy

Let me finish off by saying this: while it is highly beneficial to ask for the Saints' prayers, never forget to pray to God! Just like you shouldn't ask Mom to convince Dad to buy you a new iPod without also trying to convince him yourself, you shouldn't ask other Christians (saints or otherwise) to pray to God for you without also praying to Him some!


If you're still skeptical about the whole praying to saints thing, I understand. Again, it isn't my intention to go waving a Bible around and converting non-Catholics. I just hoped to make the Catholic Church's view clearer to those who may have heard other things.

If you've found that I said some helpful stuff, awesome! Like I say, we're all on the Journey together, so we should all be helping each other along the way, just like the saints help us! Maybe in the future I will touch on a related topic, the Veneration of the Saints.

As always, have a good one!