What is Humility? What are Its Limits?

This post is part of an occasional series on the virtues

At its heart, humility is reverence for the truth about oneself. We are neither to esteem ourselves too highly nor despise ourselves as bereft of God’s gifts. By humility we acknowledge that we depend on God and the gifts of others but also that we are called to accept our gifts and then use them for others. None of us has all the gifts, but together, and from God, we have all the gifts. In acknowledging our own gifts, humility calls us to remember that they are gifts, received from God and supplied or awakened by others. St. Paul says, What do you have that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if you did not receive it? (1 Cor 4:7)

Fundamentally, humility bids us to recognize our lowliness and remember our need to be submitted to the gifts and lawful authority of others. The word humility is derived from the Latin humilitas or, as St. Thomas says, from humus, the earth beneath our feet.

Humility as a virtue is the good habit by which a person has a modest estimate of his own worth and submits himself to others, according to reason. St. Thomas says, “… humility is a quality by which a person considering his own defects has a lowly opinion of himself and willingly submits himself to God and to others for God’s sake. … The virtue of humility consists in keeping oneself within one’s own bounds, not reaching out to things above one, and submitting to one’s superior” (Summa Contra Gent., bk. IV, Ch. 55).

Humility does not require us to have no esteem for the gifts and graces that God has granted us. No one should fail to esteem the gifts of God, which are to be valued above all things. St. Paul says that one of the works of the Holy Spirit is That we may know the things that are given us from God (1 Corinthians 2:12). Humility also moves us to esteem the goods in others that we do not possess and to acknowledge defects or sins in our own self that we do not perceive in others. In this sense, saints were able to see their own faults and sins in a clearer light than that which is ordinarily given to persons who are not saints.

Humility is a kind of key that removes pride and makes us able and fit to receive grace. St. James writes, God resists the proud, and gives his grace to the humble (James 4:6).

An additional dimension of humility is the spontaneous embracing of humiliations. This is a practice humility accepts (though not in every case) when it is done for a necessary purpose. It is not humility but folly to embrace any and every humiliation. Doing so may harm good order and divert those gifted in one area to act immoderately in areas beneath or beside what they are best and most fit to do. When virtue calls for a thing to be done, even a very lowly one, it belongs to humility not to shrink from doing it. For example, you should not refuse to perform some lowly service when charity calls upon you to help others.

Humility is a virtue and “every virtue observes or consists of the mean” (omnis virtus in medio consistit). Thus, virtue is the middle ground between excess and defect. Humility is no exception.

The defect of humility is pride, in which we esteem our self too highly and forget our lowliness and need.

These are the excesses of humility:

  • Too great an obsequiousness, which may serve to pamper the pride in others through flattery or encourage their sins of tyranny, arrogance, and arbitrariness.
  • Too much abjection of oneself, wherein one disdains the gifts of God. Disdaining one’s gifts is not in service of the truth and dishonors the giver. It may also limit one’s usefulness to others by hiding or limiting what God wants shared and used for others.
  • Displaced humility – Excess humility may also be derogatory to a man’s office or holy character such that he dishonors both himself and his office. This can dishearten others or fuel irreverence and dishonor to offices or states of life (e.g., the consecrated religious life or the priesthood).

St. Thomas, drawing on St. Gregory and others, lists degrees (or acts) of humility:

  1. To be humble in heart but also to show it in one’s very person, one’s eyes fixed on the ground; one should restrain haughty looks.
  2. To speak few and sensible words and not to be loud of voice; one should not be immoderate in speech.
  3. Not to be easily moved and disposed to laughter; one should check laughter and other signs of senseless or demeaning mirth.
  4. To maintain silence until one is asked; one should not be in a hurry to speak.
  5. To do nothing except as exhorted by the common rule of the monastery or community; in one’s work one should seldom depart from the ordinary way.
  6. To believe and acknowledge oneself a greater sinner than all; in this respect one should ponder first one’s own sinfulness.
  7. To presume oneself insignificant and unprofitable for most purposes; one should deem oneself less than fully capable of great things.
  8. To confess one’s sin; one should experience one’s sinfulness with compunction.
  9. To embrace patience by obeying under difficult and contrary circumstances; one should not be deterred from this on account of the difficulties and hardships that come under obedience.
  10. To subject oneself to a superior; one should regulate one’s own will according to the judgment of a lawful superior.
  11. To avoid excessive delight in fulfilling one’s own desires; one should not insist on one’s own will.
  12. To fear God and to be always mindful of everything that He has commanded.

It’s hard not be moved to the recognition that we in many ways fall short of this virtue.

Because it governs and moderates pride (our chief fault), humility is to be regarded as one of the most needed of virtues. May the Lord grant us humility in the abundance and clarity needed!

Fundamentals for Fruitful Discipleship – A Homily for the 5th Sunday of Easter

In this Easter Season, we continue to reflect on how the Risen Lord Jesus minsters to us and supplies our needs. Last week we considered Him as our shepherd. This week we learn how He is the vine and we the branches, wholly dependent on Him for everything. As we consider how He cares for us as His disciples, we need to rescue the word “care” from its rather sentimental modern sense. True care does not merely include pleasant things such as providing food and shelter. Sometimes care involves difficult things, but ones that are necessary to discipline and purify us so that we grow and bear more fruit. Thus, the Lord speaks of “pruning” in this passage. While caring, pruning is not often pleasant, but it is proper care. Let’s look at how the Lord cares for us so that we can be true disciples.

The Lord presents us with four basic principles that assist us in being better, more fruitful disciples.

I. The Purpose of Disciples – The text says, I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower. He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit … Anyone who does not remain in me will be thrown out like a branch and wither; people will gather them and throw them into a fire and they will be burned.

The purpose of a vine is to bear fruit. What are the fruits that the Father seeks? Surely justice, righteousness, and holiness are chief among them. The Letter to the Galatians speaks of them in this way: But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal 5:23). Surely, we can add virtues and fruits such as generosity, chastity, mercy, forgiveness, and zeal for God and His kingdom. These are among the fruits God seeks, and which are the purpose of the vine, His son Jesus, whom He sent to nourish us so that these fruits would come to pass.

Yet there are some branches that, though they take nourishment from the vine, do not bear fruit. Not only do they fail to bear fruit, they often harm the vine by drawing strength away from the fruit-bearing branches.

I know little of grapes, but for many years now I have grown tomatoes. As the tomato plant grows, small shoots emerge from the base of the vine branches. These are usually called “suckers,” because they draw strength away from the main branch where the tomatoes are growing. These suckers should be plucked for the health and vigor of the plant and the best development of the fruit.

God will often do the same. In our modern age, with its stress on individualism, hearing that God cuts off unfruitful branches strikes us as unmerciful and harsh. However, God has in mind not just the individual, but the strength and fruitfulness of the whole vine. Failing to bear fruit does not just affect the individual; it affects the whole vine. Therefore, God, as a loving vine-dresser, cuts away the harmful branches. Your life is not just about you. My life is not just about me. We exist in myriad, complex relationships with one another, and God must care for all of them. Because the purpose of the vine is to bear fruit, God tends the vine with that in mind.

The text goes on to say that severed branches wither and that “people” will gather them and throw them into the fire. If I don’t know who I am and whose I am, if I am no longer rooted in Christ, anyone can name me and carry me off. Yes, without the stability of abiding on the vine, I can get “carried away” by worldly things. In this way, I wither and die spiritually; the slightest breeze can blow me about. Like any dried and withered branch, I am good for nothing but to be thrown into the fire. Unless Christ carries me and sustains me, I am carried away by others, who cast me into the fire.

II. The Pruning of Disciples – The text says, and every [branch] that does he prunes so that it bears more fruit. You are already pruned because of the word that I spoke to you.

Most of us who have cared for roses know how important pruning is. Without this careful and necessary cutting, the rose bush grows long and gnarly. It expends its strength more on the branches than on the flowers. Little by little the flowers become smaller and less beautiful; the leaves lose their beauty, shape, and color, becoming smaller and lighter green. Eventually the rose bush looks little better than a weed.

I imagine that if a rose bush could talk, it would protest and cry out in pain every November as I descend upon it and cut back its growth to a mere one foot above the ground. In May, though, the gorgeous roses in the front yard are a masterpiece and all the pain of November is forgotten.

Pain and pruning are part of the Christian journey; God knows what He is doing. We often do not, and like the roses in November that cry out in pain and protest, we look for answers. Yet no more than I can explain my purpose to the roses (they are only rose bushes, after all), can God explain to us what He is about (we are mere mortals with minds too small to comprehend the whole picture).

Just the same, November pruning gives way to May glory; God the vine-dresser knows what He is doing.

Note, too, that the Lord says that His Word “prunes” us. If we let the Word enter us uncompromised and unabridged, we read, For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart (Heb 4:12). Yes, God’s Word can humble our pride, cut to the quick our distorted and wrongful thinking, and hold us accountable. It can cut away error and mend the decayed wounds of sin.

We must allow the Word of God to be what it is. Too many of us seek a filtered and watered-down version of God’s Word. No! Let the undiluted Word go to work, of which Scripture itself says, Is not my word like fire, declares the LORD, and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces? (Jer 23:29)

A pruned vine bears abundant fruit. None of us like pruning, but nothing is more necessary.

III. Persistence of Disciples – The text says, Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing.

In this short Gospel, the word “remain” occurs seven times. Do you get the point? Remain! The Greek word μείνατε (meinate) is the plural imperative of the verb meno, meaning, “to abide.” To abide means to remain habitually or to stay somewhere. It speaks of stability and persistence.

It is clear that a branch must always stay attached to the vine or else it is doomed. Absolutely nothing is possible to a branch (except to wither and die) unless it is attached to the vine 24 x 7 x 365. Nothing could be clearer in this analogy than this truth.

Yet it seems very unclear to the average disciple of Jesus, who so easily walks away, finding abiding both tedious and difficult. Then we wonder why our spiritual life is tepid and its fruits lackluster! We can’t have even a mediocre spiritual life apart from Christ; the text says we can’t do anything at all but be scattered.

How do we abide with and in the Lord? Scripture distinguishes four ways. We abide and experience union with the Lord through

HIS WORDIf you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you will, and it shall be done for you (Jn 15:7). Anyone who loves me will be true to my word and my Father will love him and we will come to him (Jn 14:22).

HOLY COMMUNION –  He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him (Jn 6:56).

PRAYER (especially communal prayer) –  For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them (Matt 18:20).

KEEPING HIS COMMANDMENTSThose who keep his commandments abide in him and He in them (1 John 3:22).

Yes, abiding is accomplished through prayer, Scripture, sacraments, fellowship, and walking uprightly. This Gospel could not be more clear: abide, abide, abide, abide, abide, abide, abide. Seven times the word is used.

Do you get it? Abide. Abide persistently.

IV. The Produce of Disciples – The text says, If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you. By this is my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.

Attached to and abiding in the vine, we will produce abundant fruit. Note that this is linked to a kind of fruitfulness in prayer that comes from the Father’s good pleasure.

Why is He pleased to answer our prayers if we abide? Because He can trust us with His blessings. In effect, He can say, “Here is someone who is close to my Son, who habitually remains with Him and abides with Him. Yes, here is someone I can trust with blessings. Here is a wise steward who is in union with my Son.” Scripture speaks often of the correlation between wise stewardship and blessings:

  • (Luke 16:10-11) Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. So, if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches?
  • (Matt 25:21) His master replied, “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!”
  • (Luke 12:48) From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.

Do you want more? Then use well what you already have. Be someone whom the Father can trust because you stay close and abide with His Son. Be like those who can say, with mother Ruth, Wherever you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay (Ruth 1:16). Be like the man who said to his wife, “If you ever leave me, I’m going with you.”

Abide, abide, abide.

The Need for Reverence, as Seen in a Remarkable Animation

The remarkable video below led me to ponder the relationship between reverence and fear and more importantly the difference between them. Reverence is a healthy form of fear, as contrasted with a cringing, hostile one.

The word “reverence” is rooted in the Latin reveror, meaning “to stand in awe of, to revere or respect.” Reverence includes a healthy fear of overstepping, harming, or violating something or someone we hold in awe or deeply appreciate. It is somewhat like the Holy Fear of the Lord counseled by Scripture, wherein we hold God in awe and dread offending Him out of respect and love.

When we have the healthy fear of reverence, we hesitate to simply barge in and behave “as if we owned the joint.” We proceed carefully, realizing that we are dealing with something or someone precious. We recognize that we are not dealing with something ordinary or with something we own, but rather something that someone else owns and regards highly.

When I have reverence for a person, I esteem him and am loath to cause him harm or grief. I curb my behavior and seek to avoid any unnecessary harm.

So, reverence is a healthy form of fear, a kind of wonder or awe at the mystery and magnificence of things and people. Of course, it should never supplant or overrule our reverence or holy fear of God, but it does have a proper and healthy place in our dealings with people and even with the created world.

If reverence is cultivated, it also helps us avoid unhealthy fear, cringing fear rooted in anxiety about backlash or retaliation. Because reverence keeps us respectful, we need not fear negative consequences.

This video is best understood in the light of this reflection. It features an extraterrestrial being who seems to be exploring an unknown planet. As he explores, he unreflectively (and thus irreverently) collects samples. Soon enough, he experiences something of a call to account, though a very loving one. Nevertheless, his irreverence ignites his fear and he acts rashly and thoughtlessly. In the end he recovers reverence, but sadly at a high price.

Humility is Hard – A Meditation on Some Aspects of Humility

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080915Pride is our most pervasive and serious sin. Humility is its antidote and the foundation of our spiritual life, and as the remedy to our most deep-seated pathology, it must be strong medicine. Humility is hard to swallow and has a lot of things it needs to work on.

I. The Foundation of Humility – Humility as a foundation is a good image, because by it we bow toward the earth or soil (humus in Latin) and abase ourselves before God. Foundations and holes in the earth go together.

By humility we understand that we are small and poor, barely more than dust and water. If God does not scoop us from the earth, we are nothing. Only by His command is the mysterious spark and organizational principle of life ignited. We are wholly dependent on God; our life is contingent. We do not explain ourselves at all. We are dependent not only on our parents (who cannot explain themselves either), but also on God’s purely gratuitous act of summoning us from dust. We are given existence by Him who is existence itself.

We are given not merely existence, but something mysterious called “life.”

Do you think you have life figured out? Can you define it? Imagine that you have before you an acorn and a small rock of similar size. One (the acorn) has the mysterious spark of life in it; the other does not. Plant both in the earth and add water. One transforms into a mighty oak; the other remains unchanged. What is the difference between the acorn and the rock? “Life,” you say. Well, tell me, what is that? Can you weigh it in a scale? Can you see its essence under a microscope? We see life’s effects, but we do not see it. We detect its absence, but where has it gone? What exactly departs when a human, an animal, or a plant dies?

Thus humility, like a foundation, bids us to bow low to the earth and admit that we know very little. Even the most basic thing (life) that enables everything else eludes us and taunts us by its mystery.

II. The First Humility – We must distinguish between humility toward God and humility toward others. Humility toward God is simple (and it is first and foremost) because our duty in that regard is clear. There is no ambiguity in comparing ourselves to Him who is perfection, glory, and purity.

Humility toward others, though, has ambiguities that can only be resolved by reference to God, for not everything in another person is superior; not everything in others is perfect truth or purity.

Indeed, our first humility is toward God. By it we recognize that we are nothing without Him. Even more so, no good work of ours—not even the slightest salutary act—can happen without the grace of God.

III. The Finding of Humility – Humility also recognizes that we do not have meaning, direction, or purpose apart from God. Therefore, we must look to the Book of Creation and the Book of Scripture, the Word of God, to discover and obey the truth and meaning given by God in what is created and what is revealed.

Atheists and materialists boldly assert that nothing has meaning, purpose, direction, or sense.  They hold that everything that has happened is by chance; a random, meaningless crashing together of atoms (wherever they came from). Even atheists, though, cannot seem to accept or live by their own radical theory. Only one of them, Nietzsche, was ever “brave” enough to live in a meaningless world—and he died insane.

For us who would seek for humility, we must sit before what God has created and what He has revealed in Scripture, humbly observing, learning, and obeying what He teaches us there. We do not simply project meaning; we must humbly seek it, find it, and obey the truth and meaning of things.

IV. The Frank Truth of Humility – Humility also admits the frank and obvious truth that we are sinners. We have base, selfish, narrow hearts that are strangely attracted by what we know is harmful and yet resistant to what we know is good. Our will is inconsistent, vacillating, and whimsical, yet at the same time stubborn. We tend to maximize the minimum and minimize the maximum. Our darkened minds seem almost to prefer foolish and dubious explanations to what is clear, common-sense, and obviously true. We almost seem to want others to lie to us. We love to rationalize and daydream. Knowing a little makes us think we know it all.  Frankly, we are a mess. We are only saved with difficulty and because God is powerful, patient, and abundant in grace and mercy.

V. The Fellowship of Humility – St. Thomas Aquinas says quite poetically, “Wherefore, every man, in respect to what is his own, should subject himself to every neighbor in respect to what the neighbor has of God’s” (Summa Theologica IIa IIae 161, a 3). Indeed, our neighbors have many things from God that are to be respected. They have things that we share, but also many others that we do not have at all. I do not have all the gifts, and you do not have all the gifts, but together we have all the gifts. We have them all, though, only by mutual respect and humble submission. Thus, our humility toward others is really humility toward God, who wills that others should be part of His governance of us and of our completion.

Note, too, a careful distinction that flows from what St. Thomas teaches regarding humility toward others. It is not to be reduced to mere human respect or flattery nor is it to be rooted in worldly and servile fear. True humility has us abase ourselves before others based on what is of God in them. The humble person does not abase himself before others for what is wicked in them. Indeed, many holy and humble people have had to rebuke the wicked and have suffered as a result.

Consider our Lord, who found it necessary to rebuke the leaders of His day. Consider John the Baptist, who rebuked Herod; or the apostles, who refused the command to speak Jesus’ name no longer. These were humble men, but they also knew that the first humility belongs to God and that no humility toward human beings can ever eclipse it.

Therefore, the modern notion of “Who am I to judge?” is not proper humility. Rather, it is rooted more in a kind of sloth (cloaked in the self-congratulatory language of tolerance) that avoids humbly seeking truth and being conformed to it. The truly humble person is open to correcting others and to being corrected because humility always regards the truth.

VI. The Focus of Humility – “Humility is reverence for the truth about ourselves.” Indeed, the focus of humility is always the truth.

What is the truth? Each of us is gifted but incomplete.

Humility doesn’t say, “Aw shucks, I’m nothing.” That is not true. You are God’s creation and are imbued with gifts, but they are gifts. You did not acquire them on your own. God gave them to you, most often through others who raised you, taught you, and helped you to develop the skills and discover the gifts that were within you. So, you do have gifts, but they are gifts. Scripture says, What have you that you have not received? And if you have received, why do you glory as though you had not received? (1 Cor 4:7)

Although you are gifted, you do not have all the gifts. This is the other truth of humility: that God and others must augment your many deficiencies. Whatever your gifts, and however numerous they are, you do not have all or even most of them. That is only possible in relationship with God and His people.

Admit it: true humility is tough. If you don’t think so, then try the test below from St. Anselm, who lists seven degrees of humility. How far along are you?

Here are St. Anselm’s degrees of humility (as quoted in the Summa Theologica IIa IIae q. 161a. 6):

  1. to acknowledge oneself contemptible,
  2. to grieve on account of it,
  3. to confess it,
  4. to convince others to believe this,
  5. to bear patiently that this be said of us,
  6. to suffer oneself to be treated with contempt, and
  7. to love being thus treated

In this video do you think that Lancelot might be struggling just a bit with pride?

What the Story of St. Mark Teaches Us About Reconciliation

Today’s Feast of St. Mark (also known as John Mark) reminds us that the Gospel occurs within the human setting and condition. Mark was at the center of the tension between Paul and Barnabas; their differences were so severe that it led to a parting of ways.

Yet St. Mark, despite his less-than-stellar beginning in Church leadership came to prove his worth and was reconciled to St. Paul.

To fill in the back story, let’s begin by St. Barnabas and then turn our attention to St. Paul.

St. Barnabas was a Jew, a native of Cyprus, and of the tribe of Levi. As such he likely served in the Temple as a priest, depending on his age at his conversion to Christianity. His given name was Joseph, but the apostles called him Barnabas, which means “son of encouragement” (cf Acts 4:36).

He was probably a wealthy man, for St. Luke describes him early in Acts as a generous man who sold land to support the growing Church.

Most critically, it was Barnabas who vouched for the new convert, Saul of Tarsus, later known as Paul. Paul was viewed with suspicion by those in Jerusalem, including the apostles, who only recently had been targets of his persecutions (cf Acts 9:26).

Talk about one of the most pivotal introductions in history! Indeed, it may be argued that this changed the course of Western history and surely that of the Church. Barnabas smoothed the way for St. Paul, the Church’s most zealous missionary and greatest biblical theologian. After Barnabas’ introduction, Paul was able to move freely around the disciples.

Sometime after this, the apostles in Jerusalem sent Barnabas to Antioch, which was home to both Jews and Gentiles. It seems that he was not yet considered to be of the rank of apostle or bishop (Acts 13:1 calls him a teacher). Rather, he went more to observe and be of help. Under the leadership of Barnabas and others, the Church in Antioch thrived and grew quickly.

So, Barnabas sent for Paul to come and join him. They worked together for at least a year, and it was at Antioch that the disciples were called Christians for the first time (Acts 11:26). Barnabas continued to advance and build up Paul’s ministry in the Church. Barnabas gave us a stunning moment in Church history; it is not wrong to call St. Paul his protégé.

At a certain critical point, leaders at Antioch laid hands on Barnabas and Saul. While some debate this, to me it is the clearest moment when it can be said that they were ordained and given the rank of bishop and the title “Apostle.”

Missionaries – Having done this, the Church leaders at Antioch, directed by the Holy Spirit, sent Barnabas and Paul forth on missionary work. This journey is what is now known as Paul’s first missionary journey. It is interesting to note that early in the journey described in Acts, Barnabas is listed first, followed by Paul. By Acts 13:43, however, the order changes and Paul is listed first. This suggests a change in leadership.

They took with them on this first journey the Barnabas’ cousin John, who was called Mark. Somewhat early on the journey, Mark decided that he could no longer go on and turned away from the missionary trip. Later on, this would prove to be significant.

The last major role for Barnabas was in Acts 15 at the Council of Jerusalem, which was convened to decide whether Gentile converts could become full members of the Church without converting to Judaism. Barnabas, along with Paul, provided important testimony to the zeal and conversion of the Gentiles.

A sad moment – After the Council in Jerusalem, Paul and Barnabas returned to Antioch in triumph, their ministry vindicated. They planned another missionary journey together, but then came a critical, sad moment:

Sometime later Paul said to Barnabas, “Let us go back and visit the believers in all the towns where we preached the word of the Lord and see how they are doing.” Barnabas wanted to take John, also called Mark, with them, but Paul did not think it wise to take him, because he had deserted them in Pamphylia and had not continued with them in the work. They had such a sharp disagreement that they parted company. Barnabas took Mark and sailed for Cyprus, but Paul chose Silas and left (Acts 15:36-40).

Although it was a sad moment, it illustrates the human situation. Here were two men who had been like brothers. Paul owed his inclusion in leadership largely to Barnabas. They had taught together. They had journeyed hundreds of miles by ship and then by foot into the northern mountains, making converts in effective ministry. More recently they had just returned from Jerusalem, their vision and ministry approved and vindicated against naysayers among the brethren. Yet at this magnificent moment, Paul and Barnabas argued and parted company over Barnabas’ cousin Mark.

One of the things I admire most about the biblical text is that it does not whitewash things like this. Heroes are not perfect men; they are flawed and representative of the human condition. They are gifted and strong but struggle with the same issues and demons that haunt us all.

What is the lesson to be learned? God uses us even in our weakness. Who was right and who was wrong here? It is difficult to say. Two gifted men were unable to overcome an impasse. Alas, that is the fallen human condition. God will continue to work, however. He can make a way out of no way and write straight with crooked lines.

Even sadder, this is the last we hear of Barnabas in any substantial way. He who had been so instrumental in the life of his protégé Paul, and in the early Church now exits the stage in the heat of an argument. The text says that Barnabas and Mark sailed for Cyprus, and then there is silence.

Barnabas is mentioned in Galatians, but given the vague timeline, it is difficult to assume it took place after the disagreement described in Acts. It likely took place earlier and may illustrate that there were already tensions between Paul and Barnabas before the “Mark incident.” In Galatians we see that Barnabas was following Peter’s weak example of not eating with Gentiles, which was clearly upsetting to Paul (cf Gal 2:13).

Healing? It would also seem that Barnabas continued to labor as a missionary for Paul, who makes mention of him to the Corinthians (cf 1 Cor 9:6). Although Paul’s reference to Barnabas is a passing one, it gives no indication of a rift between them. This suggests that there was some healing of the division, even if they did not labor together again.

More healing? Even for John, called Mark (likely the same Mark who became secretary to Peter and authored the Gospel of Mark), it would seem that he and Paul overcame their difficulties. For St Paul wrote to Timothy, likely about the same Mark, Get Mark and bring him with you, because he is helpful to me in my ministry (2 Tim 4:11). There is something of a redemption here for Mark and a healing for Paul. The “useless” deserter Mark is now one who is helpful to Paul.

Although the loss and seeming disappearance of St. Barnabas is sad, there is still the story of St. Mark’s growth to greater maturity and to leadership. Though less-than-reliable at first, Mark later proves his worth. It would seem we have St. Peter to thank for that, taking Mark as his secretary and aide. We also owe thanks to St. Barnabas, who did not give up on Mark. In the end, John Mark proves himself helpful in the ministry and St. Peter called him “my son” (1 Peter 5:14).

Yes, God can make a way out of no way. Even in our weakness (and often only because our weakness keeps us humble), God can do great things.

A Call to Humility in the Mystery of the Seven Thunders

In the Office of Readings last week, we examined some of the more terrifying passages from the Book of Revelation, related to the seven trumpets, seals, and bowls of wrath. There is also a reference to the underreported “seven thunders,” reminding us that there are some things that are not for us to know.

Then I saw another mighty angel coming down from heaven. He was robed in a cloud, with a rainbow above his head; his face was like the sun, and his legs were like fiery pillars. He was holding a little scroll, which lay open in his hand. He planted his right foot on the sea and his left foot on the land, and he gave a loud shout like the roar of a lion. When he shouted, the voices of the seven thunders spoke. And when the seven thunders spoke, I was about to write; but I heard a voice from heaven say, “Seal up what the seven thunders have said and do not write it down” (Rev 10:1-4).

A similar passage occurs in the Book of Daniel. Having had certain things revealed to him, Daniel is told,

But thou, O Daniel, shut up the words and seal the book, even to the time of the end (Dan 12:4).

To the Apostles, who pined for knowledge of the last things, Jesus said,

It is not for you to know the times or the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power (Acts 1:7).

In all of these texts we are reminded that there are some things—even many things (seven is a number indicating fullness)—that are not for us to know. This is a warning against sinful curiosity and a solemn reminder that not all of God’s purposes or plans are revealed to us.

Several reasons come to mind for this silence and for the command to seal up the revelation of the seven thunders:

  1. It is an instruction against arrogance and sinful curiosity. Especially today, people seem to think that they have right to know just about anything. The press speaks of the people’s “right to know.” And while this may be true about the affairs of government, it is not true about people’s private lives, and it is surely not true about all the mysteries of God. There are just some things that we have no right to know, that are none of our business. Much of our prying is a mere pretext for gossip and for the opportunity to see others’ failures and faults. It is probably not an exaggeration to say that more than half of what we talk about all day long is none of our business.
  2. It is a rebuke of our misuse of knowledge. Sadly, especially in the “information age,” we speak of knowledge as power. We seek to know in order to control, rather than to repent and conform to the truth. We think that we should be able to do anything that we know how to do. Even more reason, then, that God should withhold from us the knowledge of many things; we’ve confused knowledge with wisdom and have used our knowledge as an excuse to abuse power, to kill with nuclear might, and to pervert the glory of human life with “reproductive technology.” Knowledge abused in this way is not wisdom; it is foolishness and is a path to grave evils.
  3. It is to spare us from the effects of knowing things that we cannot handle. The very fact that the Revelation text above describes this knowledge as “seven thunders” indicates that these hidden utterances are of fearful weightiness. Seven is a number that refers to the fullness of something, so these are loud and devastating thunders. God, in His mercy to us, does not reveal all the fearsome terrors that will come upon this sinful world, which cannot endure the glorious and fiery presence of His justice. Too much for this world are the arrows of His quiver, which are never exhausted. Besides the terrors already foretold in Scripture, the seven thunders may well conceal others that are unutterable and too horrifying for the world to endure. Ours is a world that is incapable of enduring His holiness or of standing when He shall appear.

What, then, is to be our stance in light of the many things too great for us to know and that God mercifully conceals from us? We should have the humility of a child, who knows what he does not know but is content that his father knows.

O Lord, my heart is not proud
nor haughty my eyes.
I have not gone after things too great
nor marvels beyond me.

Truly I have set my soul
in silence and peace.
Like a weaned child on its mother’s lap,
even so is my soul.

O Israel, hope in the Lord
both now and forever (Psalm 131).

Yes, like humble children we should seek to learn, realizing that there are many things that are beyond us, that are too great for us. We should seek to learn, but in a humility that is reverence for the truth, a humility that realizes that we are but little children, not lords and masters.

Scripture says, Beyond these created wonders many things lie hid. Only a few of God’s works have we seen (Sirach 43:34).

Thank you, Lord, for what you have taught us and revealed to us. Thank you, too, for what you have mercifully kept hidden because it is too much for us to know. Thank you, Lord. Help us learn and keep us humble, like little children.

On the Worthy Reception of Holy Communion (part two)

In yesterday’s post we considered the term “closed communion,” the practice of offering Holy Communion only to those who hold to the full doctrine of the Church. This practice emphasizes that communion of mind and heart to all the Holy Catholic Church teaches to be revealed by God is included in the “Amen” that affirms the true presence.

Today we will discuss the need to approach the Sacrament of Holy Communion free from serious and unrepentant sin. Let’s consider some texts showing that the Church’s desire that her sons and daughters receive Holy Communion only when in such a state is not only a proper but loving. The excerpts are followed by my own commentary, presented in red text.

So then, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. Everyone ought to examine themselves before they eat of the bread and drink from the cup. For those who eat and drink without discerning the body of Christ eat and drink judgment on themselves. That is why many among you are weak and sick, and a number of you have fallen asleep. But if we were more discerning with regard to ourselves, we would not come under such judgment. Nevertheless, when we are judged in this way by the Lord, we are being disciplined so that we will not be finally condemned with the world (1 Cor 11:27-32).

St. Paul teaches that examining oneself is a prerequisite for worthy reception of the Eucharist. If that is violated, Holy Communion has the opposite of the desired effect. Rather than bringing the blessing of union with our Lord, it brings condemnation. Therefore, out of respect for Christ and for our own good, the Church requires us to be in a state of grace when we receive. We are required to abstain from Holy Communion only when there is mortal sin (confessions of devotion, however, are highly recommended).

[At the Last Supper the disciples asked] “Lord, who is it [who will betray you]?” Jesus answered, “It is he to whom I will give this morsel of bread when I have dipped it.” So when he had dipped the morsel, he gave it to Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot. Then after he had taken the morsel, Satan entered into him. Jesus said to him, “What you are going to do, do quickly.” Now no one at the table knew why he said this to him. Some thought that, because Judas had the moneybag, Jesus was telling him, “Buy what we need for the feast,” or that he should give something to the poor. So, after receiving the morsel of bread, he immediately went out. And it was night (Jn 13:21-30).

It is unclear whether the “morsel” taken by Judas was Holy Communion. If it was, why would Jesus have dipped it? Still, there is something of a picture of what unworthy (sacrilegious) reception of Holy Communion might cause in an extreme case.

So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift. Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are going with him to court, lest your accuser hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you be put in prison. Truly, I say to you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny (Mat 5:21-26).

Note the use of the simple word “first” in the second sentence. Jesus teaches that we cannot approach the altar if we are filled with hate or injustice toward our brethren. Reconciliation and the restoration of unity are required prior to approaching the Sacrament of Holy Communion, lest our “Amen” be either incoherent or a lie.

A person who is conscious of grave sin is not to celebrate Mass or to receive the Body of the Lord without prior sacramental confession unless a grave reason is present and there is no opportunity of confessing; in this case the person is to be mindful of the obligation to make an act of perfect contrition, including the intention of confessing as soon as possible (Code of Canon Law # 916).

The use of an act of contrition mentioned here is an exception, requiring the impossibility to go to Confession beforehand and including the necessity of receiving Communion immediately thereafter. Such would be the case for a priest who is in an unworthy state but who must celebrate Mass. There are some pastoral notes that can be added later for those who struggle with some habitual sins that are possibly grave (e.g., masturbation). The Catechism has some commentary that a confessor can apply to a penitent in such cases. No Catholic should simply take it upon himself to use the exception described in Canon 916. A confessor must be consulted.

To respond to the invitation to Holy Communion, we must prepare ourselves for so great and so holy a moment. St. Paul urges us to examine our conscience: “Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a man examine himself, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself.”

Anyone conscious of a grave sin must receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation before approaching Holy Communion (Catechism # 1385).

If anyone is holy, let him approach; if anyone is not so, let him repent. Maranatha. Amen. … But let no one eat or drink of your Eucharist, unless they have been baptized into the name of the Lord; for concerning this also the Lord has said, “Give not that which is holy to the dogs” (Didache 10, 9).

The Didache was written sometime between 90 and 110 A.D, hence very early on there was an understanding that the Eucharist was not merely a table fellowship with sinners but rather a sacral meal that presupposed grace and communion with the Church.

Presenting oneself to receive Holy Communion should be a conscious decision, based on a reasoned judgment regarding one’s worthiness to do so, according to the Church’s objective criteria, asking such questions as: “Am I in full communion with the Catholic Church? Am I guilty of grave sin? Have I incurred a penalty (e.g., excommunication, interdict) that forbids me to receive Holy Communion? Have I prepared myself by fasting for at least an hour?” The practice of indiscriminately presenting oneself to receive Holy Communion, merely as a consequence of being present at Mass, is an abuse that must be corrected (2004 Ratzinger Memo to Cardinal McCarrick, # 1).

In all these writings we see a tradition that is scriptural, ancient, and clear: the Eucharist is a sacred meal that requires of us something more than just “showing up.” There are warnings against irreverent reception, in which the Eucharist is regarded as ordinary or is treated casually.

Is the Church merely being “fussy” about Holy Communion? No more so than were St. Paul and the Holy Spirit, who inspired him to write and warn us against unworthy reception of the Eucharist. Rather, the Church is charitably exhorting us to receive the Eucharist but also warning those who are unprepared to refrain from reception. Indeed, Scripture warns that the unworthy reception of Holy Communion brings not a blessing but a condemnation. This is God’s teaching, not mine.

Perhaps an analogy can be found by noting that some people are allergic to penicillin. For them, a drug that has saved many lives can be life-threatening. Similarly, sinners, though not by accident or genetics but by choice, will find that the Eucharist—life-giving to many—is not so for them when in such a state. In charity, the Church teaches that those individuals unprepared to receive Communion must refrain from doing so until the problem is resolved. This is charity, not cruelty or a lack of hospitality.

In tomorrow’s post I will develop some of these principles further, discussing some pastoral issues and some solutions aligning with the Church’s stance. Indeed, questions arise as to what is meant by mortal sin and how dissenters, those in serious sin, and those in invalid marriages or other irregular situations should be handled. Such questions and issues must be handled charitably and equitably by the Church, but not in a way that violates the principles given by Scripture and Tradition on the need for worthy reception of Holy Communion. The clear instruction of Pope Benedict XVI, written as Cardinal Ratzinger, deserves to be reiterated and needs to be better taught and applied with clarity and charity:

The practice of indiscriminately presenting oneself to receive Holy Communion, merely as a consequence of being present at Mass, is an abuse that must be corrected (2004 Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger Memo to Cardinal McCarrick, # 1).

On the Worthy Reception of Holy Communion (part one)

credit: J. Lippelmann, Catholic Standard

Last week in the Office of Readings of the Liturgy of the Hours, we read this from St. Justin Martyr:

No one may share the Eucharist with us unless he believes what we teach is true; Unless he is washed in the regenerating waters of baptism for the remission of his sins, and unless he lives in accordance with the principles given us by Christ (Apologia Cap 66: 6, 427-431).

St. Justin may have had in mind this text from the Letter to the Hebrews, which links proper doctrine to the reception of Holy Communion:

Brethren, Do not be carried away by all kinds of strange teachings, for it is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace and not by their ceremonial foods, which are of no value to those devoted to them. For we have an altar from which those who serve at the [old] tabernacle have no right to eat (Heb 13:9-10).

Thus, communion points to doctrine not hospitality. The Eucharist comes from a basic communion of belief and serves to strengthen that belief. It is no mere ceremony; it is a family communion rooted in our communion with who the Lord is and what He teaches. This common belief makes us brothers and sisters in the Lord.

In the modern debate about who can and should receive Holy Communion, some presume that everyone has the right to approach the Eucharistic sacrifice and partake of the Body and Blood of the Lord. In this view, limiting or discouraging indiscriminate reception is dismissed, not only as unjust, but as contrary to the practice of Jesus Christ, who “welcomed everyone,” even the worst of sinners.

In this sort of climate, it is necessary to explain the Church’s historical practice of what some call “closed communion.” Not everyone who uses this terminology means it pejoratively; to some extent it is a fair description.  For the Catholic Church, Holy Communion is not a “come one, come all” event. It is reserved for those who, by grace, preserve union with the Church through adherence to all that the Catholic Church believes, teaches, and proclaims to be revealed by God. Our response of “Amen” at Holy Communion signifies our communion with these realities along with our faith in the true presence of Christ in the Eucharist.

Many today have reduced Holy Communion to a mere sign of hospitality, such that if the Church does not extend it to all, we are being unkind. This misconception is often based on a mistaken understanding of the nature of the Last Supper (and the Eucharist that proceeds from it). Many years ago, Pope Benedict XVI, then Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, articulated the misunderstanding well. Following are some excerpts from his Collected Works, Vol 11, Ignatius Press pp 273-274:

Nowadays [some] New Testament scholars … say that the Eucharist … is the continuation of the meals with sinners that Jesus had held … a notion with far-reaching consequences. It would mean that the Eucharist is the sinners’ banquet, where Jesus sits at the table; [that] the Eucharist is the public gesture by which we invite everyone without exception. The logic of this is expressed in a far-reaching criticism of the Church’s Eucharist, since it implies that the Eucharist cannot be conditional on anything, not depending on denomination or even on baptism. It is necessarily an open table to which all may come to encounter the universal God …

However, tempting the idea may be, it contradicts what we find in the Bible. Jesus’ Last Supper was not one of those meals he held with “publicans and sinners.” He made it subject to the basic form of the Passover, which implies that the meal was held in a family setting. Thus, he kept it with his new family, with the Twelve; with those whose feet he washed, whom he had prepared by his Word and by this cleansing of absolution (John 13:10) to receive a blood relationship with him, to become one body with him.

The Eucharist is not itself the sacrament of reconciliation, but in fact it presupposes that sacrament. It is the sacrament of the reconciled, to which the Lord invites all those who have become one with him; who certainly still remain weak sinners, but yet have given their hand to him and have become part of his family.

That is why, from the beginning, the Eucharist has been preceded by a discernment … (I Corinthians 11:27ff). The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles [the Didache] is one of the oldest writings outside the New Testament, from the beginning of the Second Century, it takes up this apostolic tradition and has the priest, just before distributing the sacrament saying: “Whoever is holy, let him approach, whoever is not, let him do penance” (Didache 10).

This makes clear the root of the problem: the failure to see the Eucharist for what it truly is: a sacred banquet wherein those who enjoy communion with the Lord (by His grace) partake of the sign and sacrament of that communion. Holy Communion serves to celebrate and deepen the communion already operative through the other sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation, and Confession.

You may label this communion “closed,” but at its heart it is more positively called a sacrum convivium, a sacred meal of those who share a life together (con (with or together) + vivium (life)). This is not a “come one, come all” meal; it is a Holy banquet for those who wear the wedding garment. The garment is righteousness and those who refuse to wear it are cast out (cf: Matt 22:11-12 & Rev 19:8).

Many moderns surely would prefer a “no questions asked” invitation to all who wish to come. It fits in well with the popular notion of inclusiveness and unity. To a large degree, though, it is a contrived unity, one that overlooks truth (the opposite of which is falsehood, not just a different viewpoint). Yes, it overlooks the truth necessary for honest, real, substantive unity. Such a notion of communion is shallow at best and a lie at worst. How can people approach the Eucharist, the sacrament of Holy Communion and unity, and say “Amen” when they differ with the Church over essentials such as that Baptism is necessary; that there are seven Sacraments; that the Pope is the successor of Peter and the Vicar of Christ on earth; that homosexual acts, fornication, and adultery are gravely sinful; that women cannot be admitted to Holy Orders; that there is in fact a priesthood; that Scripture must be read in the light of the Magisterium; and on and on? Saying that there is communion in such a case is either a contrivance or a lie, but in either case it does not suffice for the “Amen” that is required at the moment of reception of Holy Communion.

Such divisions do not make for a family meal or a sacrum convivium. Hence, to share Holy Communion with Protestants, dissenters, and others who do not live in communion with the Church is incoherent. To paraphrase Cardinal Ratzinger (Pope Benedict), the Eucharist is not a table fellowship with publicans and other “sinners”; it is a family meal that presupposes grace and shared faith.

Tomorrow we will discuss the need to receive Holy Communion in a state free from grave or serious sin.