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.