On Going to Our Own House

The Gospel for Mass this past Saturday contains one line that deserves some attention from us. On one level it seems like a mere scene-ender, a line that ends the section and has the dramatis personae (cast of characters) walk off the stage. But as most who are familiar with Scripture know, there is rarely a wasted syllable, particularly in John’s Gospel. There is not one word or syllable that should be dismissed as “filler” when the Holy Spirit is at work inspiring the sacred authors.

The line in question appears in the 7th Chapter of John’s Gospel, at the end of a debate among the temple leaders as to the identity of Jesus. They wrestle with the question of who Jesus is: is the coming Messiah, and whether He or not He is the eternal Son of the Father as He claims.

The majority of the interlocutors reject Jesus out of hand because He comes from Galilee and “no Prophet has ever come from Galilee!” One of their number, Nicodemus, encourages them to be more open to the possibilities and to have greater command of the facts before rendering judgment. The pericope (passage) ends in this way:

Then each went to his own house (John 7:53).

This sentence ought not to be overlooked because it invites great significance. We can distinguish three rather separate understandings of the line: an inward meaning, and outward meaning, and an eternal meaning.

1. Inward – Each one returning to his own house can be understood as describing how we must ultimately enter into the “house” of our soul. We must all go into the inner room of our heart and mind; that place where we are alone with God; where we ponder, reflect, deliberate, and discern.

It is in this place that we must answer for ourselves the deepest questions of life: Who am I? Who is God? What is the meaning of my life? What am I doing and why? Who is the man/woman God made me to be? Yes, this is the inner sanctum, the holy place where we are alone with God.

When we are with others we tend to posture. We seek to conform in response to peer pressure or other social influences. There is often undue influence from persuasion, excessive human respect, group pressure, and group dynamics.

But there comes a moment when we are summoned by the Lord to separate from others, to go into our own house, to enter into that quiet place inside us and listen carefully to voice of God that echoes in our heart (cf Catechism # 1776).

At the point in the Gospel cited above, the temple leaders have had their debate. They have sought to influence one another. Some have experienced pressure and persuasive argumentation. Many of them probably exhibited the human tendency we all have: to try to ingratiate ourselves to others by speaking so that others will think highly of us.

Now that all the posturing is over, it is time for each man to go to his own house and there privately ponder and decide what he really thinks. Yes, it is decision time. The Lord is asking a question: Who do you say that I am? It is time for each man to go to his own house and be face-to-face with God.

Sadly, many today reject this requirement to go to our own “house” and reflect deeply. Most take little time to enter the room of their own soul. In our modern world, with its myriad distractions, most prefer to just flip on the television instead.

Ultimately we cannot evade this call from God to decide, in that inner room of our own “house,” who God is and how we will respond to Him. And for those who go on for too long refusing to go to their own house, God has ways of forcing the issue. Maybe it’s one of those sleepless at 3:00 AM. Maybe it’s a time of crisis that provokes soul-searching. But ultimately, at some point, each of us must go to his own house and reflect quietly with God, away from social pressures, away from posturing. There, alone with God, each must face the deepest questions.

2. Outward – There is a different perspective from which one can read this text, and it provides an insight that is almost exactly opposite. For while it is of critical importance to go to that secret place, that house of our own soul and there reflect with God, it is also of vital to stay connected to the reality that is outside our house. Thus, this passage may also be viewed as a commentary on the human tendency to retreat into our own little world, to shrink from any evidence we don’t like, to avoid anything that challenges our worldview.

Jesus had earlier confronted these temple leaders with evidence of His divinity and His identity as Messiah and Lord. He spoke to them of His miracles, of His fulfillment of prophecy, of the testimony of John the Baptist, and of the Father’s voice echoing in their hearts (cf John 5:31-47).

But we all share the human tendency to retreat into our own world, our own house, despite the evidence. In effect, we retreat from reality into our own made-up little world.

There is an old saying, “Don’t believe everything you think.” We tend to believe that something is so just because we think it.

There is another saying, “Who is an adviser to himself has a fool for a counselor.” Yet too easily we take only our own counsel. Or, we surround ourselves only with teachers who “tickle our ears.”

Thus, though these temple leaders have been confronted with many facts pointing to the veracity of Jesus’ identity as Lord and Messiah, they choose instead to brush off the evidence and retreat into their own houses, their own little worlds.

Further, they err with the facts: they argue that the Messiah was to come from Bethlehem whereas Jesus came from Galilee. But of course Jesus was born in Bethlehem.

But never mind all that; each just goes off to his own house, to his own little world. And too often many do exactly this.

The challenge for us all to live in reality, not merely in the confines of our own house, our own little world, our own (sometimes flawed or incomplete) thoughts.

3. Eternal – The third interpretation of the “house” referred to in this line is our ultimate home, the destination to which we all journey. Thus, when the text says they all went each to his own house, it may also refer to that place where they will dwell for all eternity. Where that house is, in Heaven or Hell, depends on each man’s stance regarding Jesus.

Having scoffed at Jesus, each of the temple leaders now heads off to his own home. But no one comes to the Father except through Jesus, and thus their home is somewhere other than the heart of the Father.

There is an old saying, “You made your bed, now lie in it.” You and I must choose where to make our home. Where that home is will depend upon our acceptance or rejection of Jesus.

There will come a day when each of us will have said of us, Then [he] went to his own house. Where will your house be?

Counting the Cost of Condemnation

3.12blogToday’s Mass features the well-known Gospel of the woman caught in adultery. In this Gospel, the Lord intimates to the men of his day that the severe punishment they want to mete out to this woman may be unwise given that they themselves must prepare for their own judgment.

Before we look any further at the details, let’s consider a few background texts that may help us to better understand what Jesus is teaching. After each verse, I provide a brief commentary in red.

  1. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy (Matt 5:7). Notice here that it is the merciful who will obtain mercy. Those who have shown proper mercy will be granted mercy on the Day of Judgment. By implication, the severe and merciless will be judged severely by the Lord.
  2. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you (Luke 6:37-38). Here the text clearly states that if we use a severe standard of judgment, that same strict standard will be used by the Lord when He judges us. On the other hand if we are forgiving, merciful, and generous then we can expect a merciful, generous, and kind judgment from God.
  3. Speak and act as those who are going to be judged under the law of freedom, for judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment (James 2:12-13). James gives us three warnings in this text. First, he reminds us that we are going to be judged by the Lord. Second, he intimates that because we are free we are therefore responsible for what we do. Third, because we are going to face this judgment, in which we will not be able to blame others for what we have freely done, we’d better realize that our judgment will be without mercy if we have not shown mercy. But if we have shown mercy then we stand a chance on our judgment day, for mercy will triumph over strict judgment.
  4. For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins (Mat 6:14-15). This warning seems clear enough: if we want to find forgiveness on the Day of Judgment we had better seek the grace to forgive others. 

All of these texts teach the bold truth that we can influence the standard against which the Lord will compare us on the day of our judgment. The measure we use for others will be measured back to us. If we have been merciful then we will find mercy. But if we have been harsh, unbending, and unmerciful, the Lord will judge us far more strictly.

We need to be sober about this. We are storing up things for the Day of Judgment by the way we treat others. Because we are all going to need so much mercy and because we cannot endure strict standards of judgment, we should consider carefully the need to be merciful and forgiving to others. And now, on to today’s Gospel!

I. COLLABORATORS IN CONDEMNATION – The teachers of the law and the Pharisees bring forward a woman caught in the very act of adultery. (There is something curious about this, though: If she was caught in the very act, the man involved must also be known. Why has he not be brought forward? The Law of Moses indicates that the man should be stoned as well.)

The accusers want to “throw the book” at her. They want the strictest punishment meted out: stoning. They also hope to discredit Jesus by putting Him in what they think is a no-win situation.

In their accusatory stance, they have become collaborators with Satan. Scripture describes Satan in this way: the accuser of our brethren has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God (Rev 12:10). And thus these Pharisees, in seeking to hand her over, join Satan.

When we have been hurt in some way, many of us may wish to both accuse and demand punishment of the person before God. But this is unnecessary and unwise.

It is unnecessary because Satan is already accusing them “day and night” before God. In addition, God sees and knows all things anyway!

It is unwise because by demanding harsh punishment for others we set ourselves up to judged by the same strict standard. Cries for grace and the conversion of sinners is always a better policy.

 II. COUNTING THE COST – As God, Jesus knows the sins of all the men gathered. He must be amazed; surely they cannot be serious in demanding such a harsh punishment for the woman knowing that the day of their own judgment awaits them!

Jesus bends down and traces His finger on the ground, almost as if tracing along with the words of a book He is reading of their deeds. Some suggest that perhaps He is writing down their sins. Some liken it to the finger of God tracing the Commandments on stone. Still others recall the mysterious hand in the Book of Daniel, which traces the words MENE, TEKEL, PERES on the wall, announcing doom to the Babylonian king.

Whatever the case, it isn’t good. You don’t ever want Jesus to be writing stuff down about you!

But these Pharisees are slow to appreciate the significance of the gesture. So Jesus tries to reason with them, saying,Let him among you who is without sin cast the first stone.” Then He bends down again and continues tracing/writing on the ground.

It is almost as though Jesus were saying,

Reason with me, men. If you demand strict justice, if you insist that I “throw the book” at her, you’d better first look and see what is written about you in “the book.” If she is to be judged strictly and without mercy, then you, too, will face the same standard.

Gentlemen, there are things in the book about you—serious things. Have you counted the cost of condemning this woman? Are you sure that you want to go on demanding that I “throw the book” at her?

Think about it men. Think very carefully.

One by one they go away. It begins with the oldest, who are presumably less rash than the younger men (and may well have committed more sins).

So the message for us is clear: we will face judgment. We need to be sober about this. We must count the cost of being unmerciful, unforgiving, and vengeful. The measure that we measure out to others will be the measure that God uses for us.

What kind of judgment are you preparing for yourself? Condemnation comes at a high cost. Are you willing to risk storing up wrath and strict justice for the day of your own judgment?

On the other hand, gentleness, compassionate correction, and merciful love will also be given to us if we show it to others. Remember your upcoming judgment. Be like the wise man, who knows he will need grace and mercy on that day because he will not be able to withstand a strict adjudication of his crimes.

III. CORRECTING WITH COMPASSION – The departure of the accusers leaves Jesus alone with the woman. Though He speaks gently, Jesus is clear: “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She replied, “No one, sir.” Then Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”

This Gospel, therefore, does not make light of the woman’s sin. Jesus knows well what she has done and so does she. Jesus is clear that she must turn away from sin; she must not commit it anymore. What Jesus does set aside is the condemning “hang-‘em-high” mentality that seeks the harshest measures for every situation.

Yes, we must sometimes correct sinners and mete out punishment. This is particularly true if we are a parent, a juror, or someone in a supervisory role.

But before rushing to extreme measures, we do well to show mercy and to attempt lesser measures first.

St. Paul has good advice: Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should gently set him right. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted (Gal 6:1).

Gentle and clear correction is the best course. More significant punishments should only be a later recourse. We must be careful not to be tempted to harshness, anger, mercilessness, and lovelessness.

OK, you get the point: count the cost. Be very careful to remember that the measure you measure out to others will be measured out to you. Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy.

Brevity Is the Soul of Wit, as Seen in a Carol Burnett Skit

blog3-11I am not one who is known for brevity. Despite this, I was most impressed with the brevity emphasized in the video below of a skit from the old Carol Burnett Show. In the three-and-a-half minute conversation, not a single sentence (until the punch line at the end) contains more than one word!

Really? How?

Watch!

Where?

Below

OK!

The clip goes “a long way” toward showing just how remarkable is our ability to communicate. One word, especially combined with context, tone of voice, and/or gesture(s), can convey far more than we imagine.

It is said that God utters but one word, for the Scriptures say that the “Word” (not Words) became flesh and made His dwelling among us (Jn 1:1-3). Jesus is the one Word, through whom all things came to be and are held together (Col 1:16, 18).

Honestly?

Yes!

Amen?

Amen!

Without Our Traditions, Our Lives Would Be as Shaky as a Fiddler on the Roof!

Image-Chagall_FiddlerWhen I was a young man—a teenager, really—I did the usual crazy stuff of the early ’70s: kept my hair long; wore bell bottoms, wide ties, and crazy plaids; kept at least the top three buttons of my shirt open; and, of course, listened to rock-n-roll.

But through it all I had this love for older things. I think it had something to do with my grandmother, Nana, whom I loved with great affection. She often lamented the loss of the old things and the old ways. She missed the Latin Mass. She missed when manners were better, when people remembered how to dress well, when things were more certain. She often told me how much she missed the beautiful old songs, the incense, the veils, the priests in cassocks, and so many other things. She had my ear; I was sympathetic.

Somehow her love for older things and older ways took hold in me, even as I indulged in the silly trappings of the seventies. My parents’ generation (born in the late ’20s and ’30s) and even more so the generation born after the Second World War were somewhat iconoclastic. The motto seemed to be “Out with the old and in with the new … new and improved.”

Much of the iconoclasm of the ’50s through the mid-’80s has now given way; many older things are once again appreciated. As I brought some things down out of the attic of my parents’ house in the early ’90s, my mother (strangely) appreciated them again. Other family members took some of the old silver. My chalice was actually an old castoff that I had restored.

Statues have begun to return to churches; some of the old hymns have returned. The Latin Mass, once relegated to the basement, has been dusted off and is now appreciated again by many (mostly younger) Catholics. I have also had the good fortune of being able to help restore two old churches to their former glory, undoing some of the iconoclasm from which they suffered. I even wear my cassock quite often.

Traditions are established and endure for a reason. Fundamentally, they simplify life by giving structure, boundaries, and expectations. It is easier for people to navigate in the realm of tradition. But traditions begin to be endangered when people forget their purpose, when people forget where they came from or why they are observed, when people forget what they mean or symbolize.

What would happen if I were to get into a time machine, go back to 1940, and ask the people of the parish some of these questions: Why do women wear hats and veils while men do not cover their heads? Why do we kneel to receive Communion? Why is the Mass in Latin? Why does the priest face toward the altar? Why are all these things done this way? I suspect I would get answers like this one: “I dunno, we just do it that way. Why don’t you ask the priest?”

I wonder if the first step in the loss of a tradition occurs when it no longer makes conscious sense to people, when it is no longer clear to them why something is done, when all that they can say about it is “That’s just what we do.”

At some point traditions run the risk that they become wooden and rote, and we find that we are sifting through the ashes of an old fire that has largely gone out. Unless we fan into flames the gifts of God’s love (cf 2 Tim 1:6), our love and appreciation of these things grows cold and their beauty fades. And then when someone asks, “What is this thing?” we reply, “What, that old thing?” And then the suggestion that we “get rid of it” receives a cursory nod of agreement and the response, “Sure, that’s fine; get rid of it.”

But the process begins with forgetfulness. And forgetfulness leads to a lack of understanding, which then gives way to a lack of appreciation. All this culminates in an almost gleeful dismissal of the old things and of the now-tarnished traditions that once sustained and framed our lives.

To be sure, some things need to fall away. Perhaps there is a time and place to “lose” things for a while, only to rediscover them later. But what we have experienced in the last 60 years has been more severe than this sort of natural ebb and flow. It has been a rupture, a radical discontinuity that has shaken many of our foundations, Church and family especially.

Therefore we do well to remember many of our traditions. The word “remember” suggests a process of putting the pieces back together again, a process of collecting some precious things that have been severed from the body and making them once again “members” of the body, the Church, and of our families. Remembering our lost traditions, even as we establish some new ones, is an important way of ensuring continuity with our heritage.

In the words of G.K. Chesterton, tradition is the “democracy of the dead,” wherein our ancestors get a say in what we do. Tradition is a way to “remember” the Church, to honor the ways and practices of the ancients that my grandmother recalled with fondness and a sense of loss. And it was a loss, but a loss I pray we are beginning to remedy as we remember the best of the past and recover our traditions.

I thought of all of this as I watched this video of the song “Tradition!” from the musical Fiddler on the Roof. It was written at a time (1964) when the sweeping changes of the last 60 years were already underway. And although the song tips a hat to tradition, it ultimately ridicules it by implying that tradition is the kind of thing that keeps men in charge, women down, and forces children into unhappy arranged marriages.

At a key moment in the song, Tevye describes the tradition of the prayer shawl and says, “You may ask, ‘How did this tradition get started?’ I’ll tell you.” And then after a pause he says, “I don’t know, but it’s a tradition!” The first sign that a tradition is in trouble is forgetfulness.

The musical pretty well captures the iconoclastic attitudes emerging at the time that were cynical of tradition in a general sort of way. Despite that cynicism, Tevye rightly notes what we have come to discover only too well:

“Without our traditions our lives would be as shaky as a fiddler on the roof.” 

A Catholic Reflects on Immigration

blog3-9The Catholic Church does not fit into anyone’s little political box. We are too big and ancient for that. And we serve a higher master. Our teachings predate current political categories and will surely postdate them as political lines continue to shift back and forth. The world, its nations, and political realities come and go, and still, here we are.

We have been called both the “Republican Party at prayer” and the “Democratic Party at prayer,” but we are neither. We are the Body of Christ at prayer. As such, we share his fate. The four political factions among the Jews of Jesus’ day (Herodians, Sadducees, Pharisees, and Zealots), who disagreed about essentially everything, all agreed that Jesus must go. Even the Romans concurred! Emblematically, Jesus was crucified outside the city gates; the polis (the city) could not contain him either. The Letter to the Hebrews advises, Therefore Jesus also, that He might sanctify the people through His own blood, suffered outside the gate. So, let us go out to Him outside the camp, bearing His reproach (Heb 13:12-13).

So here we are, outsiders in a land we too easily call home. We are American citizens to be sure, but our true citizenship is in Heaven (Phil 3:20). As a Church we cannot simply conform to an “R” or “D” vision of the world. We certainly stand conscientiously opposed to abortion, the redefinition of marriage, the forced funding of contraceptives, euthanasia, and any erosion of religious liberty. But we oppose these and other related life- and family-related issues as Catholics.

Another critical moral issue that tests our soul as a nation is that of immigration. Here, too, the challenge for every Catholic is to approach the issue as a believer.

My own views on this matter have been shaped by over thirty years of daily Scripture reading in the Divine Office and Holy Mass. There are numerous texts (frankly, an avalanche of them) that command us to care for the sojourners, foreigners, and aliens among us. Over and over again the theme comes up. It is a steady drumbeat: hospitality and care are to be shown the foreigners among us. Here are just a few of the more than one hundred texts that command this:

  1. When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God (Lev 19:33-34).
  2. You shall not wrong a sojourner or oppress him, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt (Ex 22:21).
  3. Then I will draw near to you for judgment. I will be a swift witness against the sorcerers, against the adulterers, against those who swear falsely, against those who oppress the hired worker in his wages, the widow and the fatherless, against those who thrust aside the sojourner, and do not fear me, says the Lord of hosts (Mal 3:5).
  4. I was a stranger and you welcomed me … (Mat 25:35)
  5. He executes justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the sojourner, giving him food and clothing. Love the sojourner, therefore, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt (Dt 10:18-19).
  6. Give counsel; grant justice; make your shade like night at the height of noon; shelter the outcasts; do not reveal the fugitive; let the outcasts of Moab sojourn among you; be a shelter to them from the destroyer (Is 16:3).

There are many other texts commanding us in this manner or reminding us of our own needs in the past and exhorting us to deal with strangers among us respectfully and with care.

You can read a list of many other passages here: 100 Quotes from Scripture on Immigration.

The amount of ink expended on this topic in the Scriptures is overwhelming. It is just not possible for me as a Catholic Christian who insists that we take Scripture seriously in other matters to simply say, “Well, this is just a bunch of old-fashioned thinking that we can ignore.”

However we work to secure our borders and craft reasonable immigration laws, we cannot simply suppress the overwhelming voice of God, who commands of us a stance of welcome, openness, and care for those who are among us.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church seeks to strike a balance between the need of a nation to protect its borders and reasonably manage immigration with the command to welcome and care for others:

The more prosperous nations are obliged, to the extent they are able, to welcome the foreigner in search of the security and the means of livelihood which he cannot find in his country of origin. Public authorities should see to it that the natural right is respected that places a guest under the protection of those who receive him.

Political authorities, for the sake of the common good for which they are responsible, may make the exercise of the right to immigrate subject to various juridical conditions, especially with regard to the immigrants’ duties toward their country of adoption. Immigrants are obliged to respect with gratitude the material and spiritual heritage of the country that receives them, to obey its laws, and to assist in carrying civic burdens (Catechism 2241).

By any assessment, the current system in this country is broken. Our laws are chaotic, selectively enforced, and have created a dangerous situation for immigrant and countryman alike. Fear and suspicion dominate; there has been a sad increase in nativist anger that is unbecoming a nation of immigrants with a Judeo-Christian heritage. Laws surely existed in previous decades, but there were fewer of them and they were far less confusing.

I am not a political genius or a policy wonk who has the perfect solution. But Catholics ought to approach this issue as Catholics, deeply rooted in Scripture and in our established teachings that summon us to welcome and assist others to contribute to our great land. We have suffered much from nativist sentiments in the past. We are and always have been an immigrant Church in America. We have a proud history of coming here, making a positive difference, and helping others to do so. Our parishes have always been centers of both familiar culture and of acclimation to our country.

In our charity we ought to be very hesitant to demonize the majority of immigrants as scofflaws and criminals. Even those who are currently without legal papers have most often come here to escape from desperate conditions of poverty and/or injustice. Some originally arrived legally but have since had their status expire and now cannot reasonably return.

As a priest, I know the personal stories of many immigrants; they are typically complex and often tragic. Almost no one leaves his country and his relatives behind on a whim, just to go and live in a foreign land. They often risk their lives and endure substantial hardship in order to come here because they are so desperate and see so few alternatives.

Are there criminals and opportunists among them? Yes. The same can be said about my own Irish and German immigrant ancestors. But most of my relatives were decent, hard-working people who wanted to survive—and to contribute as well. I have found nothing different about the vast majority of today’s immigrants. And these days, their children often speak English, even if some of the first generation struggle to master it.

We are Catholics and as such we need to think about this issue as Catholics. Our Scriptures and our teachings are unambiguous. The human rights of the immigrants, sojourners, and strangers among us are to be respected. We also need to help them to respect our laws and traditions. We can and should enrich one another.

I fully expect a lot of pushback on a post like this. You are free to comment, but I ask a couple of things: First, don’t address me, address your fellow readers. Second, don’t just say why I am wrong or naïve, etc.; say what you think and why.

Before you press “Submit Reply” (and take your math test J) please take a moment and at least glance at the long list of Scriptures in the link above. Consider whether or not your remarks take sufficient note of what God teaches us. In the end, it matters little what you or I think; or whether the Church teaches this as dogma, doctrine, or discipline; or whether it is taught fallibly or infallibly. The question is this: What does God think and how would He have me speak of and respond to this profoundly significant human issue?

Catholics don’t fit into anyone’s neat little box. We’re too big, too old, too diverse, and I pray too much like Jesus (who didn’t fit in anyone’s box either).

The Evangelizer Is Called to Martyrdom

Photo Credit: Catholic News Service
Photo Credit: Catholic News Service

The recent martyrdom of the four Missionaries of Charity sisters in Yemen reminds us all that our Christian witness and duty may in fact lead to our death. Bless those sisters for their heroic lives, living in a hostile situation daily and giving visible witness to the presence of Christ. Here is true evangelization, the announcing of the Gospel. And while it is unlikely that most of us will be called to die for the faith, there is a kind of daily martyrdom that is expected of us and about which Christ warned us. If we are going to evangelize we must be prepared to suffer.

In today’s post, I’d like to talk about the relationship between martyrs and evangelization. The word “martyr” has two meanings, both of which are related to evangelization. On the one hand, “martyr” gets its meaning from the Greek word μάρτυς (martus), meaning “witness.” On the other hand, the current English meaning of “martyr” refers to those who suffered and died for their faith. Both concepts are essential for evangelizers (this means you).

Let’s look first at the concept of a “martyr” as one who suffers. If you’re going to evangelize you must be prepared to suffer. This goes a long way in explaining why most Christians don’t evangelize.

When I was training some people in my parish to do door-to-door evangelization and also when preparing another group to go to their own family members to summon them back to the faith, it became clear that we had to get something out of the way at the very start: we were all going to suffer for doing this. We would be rejected, scorned, ridiculed, vented at, and asked questions we couldn’t answer. But we would also have people who would be delighted to see us, interested in finding out more, and perhaps even open to the invitation to come to Mass.

I wanted to be clear at the outset; we have to expect to get it with both barrels: POW!

Are you ready to suffer? If you’re going to be a witness (from the Greek derivation of “martyr”) you have to be ready to suffer for Jesus. There are many who have gone so far as to be killed for announcing Jesus. How about us? Are we even willing to risk a raised eyebrow? How about laughter, scorn, derision, anger, rejection, or simply being dismissed or ignored?

These things are just part of the picture. In no way does receiving those reactions from others indicate that we have failed; in fact, it may mean we were successful because Christ promised such things to faithful disciples and witnesses. Further, anger and protests do not mean that a seed has not been sown. For a seed to take root, the ground must first be broken, and that is often not an easy task. The ground often “protests” and we will only get fruit by the sweat of our brow. Scripture says of such suffering,

  1. Remember the words I spoke to you: ‘No servant is greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also. If they obeyed my teaching, they will obey yours also. They will treat you this way because of my name, for they do not know the One who sent me (John 15:20-21).
  2. The apostles left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name (Acts 5:41).
  3. If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you. (1 Peter 4:14).
  4. If you suffer for being a Christian, don’t feel ashamed, but praise God for being called that name (1 Peter 4:16).
  5. We are fools for Christ’s sake (1 Cor 4:10).
  6. God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe (1 Cor 1:21).
  7. As servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything (2 Cor 6:4-10).

How can we read texts like these and think that we will not suffer for speaking and living our faith? Some will accept us; many will reject us. But in experiencing rejection, derision, and scorn, consider yourself in good company. Jesus, the apostles, martyrs, and saints all suffered in this way. It is not failure to be thought of in this way; it is simply the lot of the faithful. In this sense it is a sign of success. We should not go out looking for a fight or trying to make people angry. But often they will react in this way and we should expect it. Suffering is an essential part of being an evangelizer, a witness (a martyr).

Here are a few things to remember when being scorned or the object of anger:

  1. Don’t take anger and rejection personally. In most cases, it’s not about you. Most people’s anger is really directed at Christ, at God in general, at His Church, or at organized religion. Some have been hurt by the Church or feel hurt by God. It’s not about you.
  2. Just because someone is angry or takes offense doesn’t mean that you did anything wrong or that you gave offense. I have often thought that in a primitive part of our brain, developed in childhood, we automatically think that if someone is angry with us we must have done something wrong. This is not necessarily so. In fact, anger is sometimes a sign we have done something right! If we are faithful, we are raising issues that, though uncomfortable, are necessary to consider.
  3. Do not give in to the temptation to retaliate. Rather, rejoice that you have been deemed worthy to suffer for Christ.
  4. Do not be discouraged. Shake the dust from your feet and move on (cf Matt 10:14).
  5. Remember that you are sowing seeds. You may not experience the harvest, but others may well bring it in. The fruitfulness of what you do may take years to come to harvest. Just stay faithful and keep sowing seeds.
  6. An evangelizer is a witness and the Greek word for witness is the root of the word “martyr.” Suffering is simply part of the package.

When we understand and accept these things we are less resentful and anxious when it actually happens. Don’t lose heart. Accept the martyrdom of evangelization.

And this leads us to the second notion of the word “martyr,” that of being a witness.

A witness is someone who has seen or experienced the thing he is describing. Because he has personally seen or experienced it, he knows what he is talking about. The word “witness” carries in it the sense of “knowing.” Its etymological roots are Old English and Germanic words such as wit and wissen meaning to know something; it was also likely influenced by the German verb kennen meaning to be personally familiar with someone or something.

Combining these roots, we come to the conclusion that a witness is someone who knows the facts and truth of something personally, by firsthand knowledge. I cannot really serve as a witness in a court of law merely by stating what others said they saw. Hearsay evidence is not admissible. I have to testify to what I saw and personally know. This is what it means to be a witness.

In evangelization work, too, we are called to be witnesses. That is, we are called to speak not only what we intellectually know, or have heard others say, but also what we have personally experienced. As witnesses we are called to have firsthand knowledge, not just to repeat what others have said. It is not enough to know about the Lord, we have to personally know the Lord. Children know whether their parents are just going through the motions of teaching them a prayer, or whether they really know the Lord personally and are actually praying. Congregants know whether their priest is just giving an informational sermon or whether he has really met the Lord and knows personally of what and of Whom he speaks.

People know the difference. And frankly, what people are most hungry for is firsthand witnesses, not people who just quote the safe, well-tested words of others. What people need to hear is this:

God is real. I know this because I just talked with Him this morning and I experience His presence even now. And, in the laboratory of my own life, I have tested God’s teachings from the Scriptures and the Church have found them to be true and reliable. I am talking to you from experience. God is real and His teachings are true. I know this personally because I have experienced it in my life.

Too often, what could be evangelical moments devolve into religious debates about whether Pope so-and-so really said such-and-such back in the 8th century, or why women can’t be ordained, or why the “evil” Catholic Church conducted the Inquisition. These sorts of topics come up quickly because we talk only about issues rather than testifying from personal experience. It is much harder for a person to deny what you have experienced if you can say, “I have come to experience that God is real and that what He says through His Church is true. I have staked my whole life on what He has revealed.”

What we need are witnesses more so than experts in apologetics who can debate every point. We do need apologists, and intellectual knowledge is important, but personal witness is even more important. It’s OK to say that you don’t know the answer to some particular question, but it’s not OK to be incapable of being a witness. Even as a priest I sometimes have to say,

I don’t know the answer to that. I’ll try to find out and let you know. But Let me tell you what I do know, and that is that God is at the center of my life and I have come to experience His love for me and for every human being. I have come to experience His power to set me free from sin and every bondage, and to root me in the truth of His Word. And whatever the answer to your question is, I know it will be rooted in that.

Yes, we need martyrs for the work of evangelization, those who are willing to suffer and to be firsthand witnesses with a personal testimony to give of the Lord they have come to know by experience. You should be an evangelizer, a witness, a martyr.

Honor to the Missionaries of Charity sisters who knew Christ and died witnessing to Him!

Here is a video clip from Fr. Francis Martin in which he beautifully described the second notion of the word “martyr” (as a witness). This is part of a longer series on the Gospel of John, available here: Gospel of John Series 3A.

Still There! A Meditation on the Universal Inclination to “the Good”

saint-thomas-aquinas-1476In yesterday’s post I discussed the overall disconnect from reality effected by nominalism and its successor movements (e.g., Cartesian, Kantian, nihilist). Increasingly we live in our heads and no longer view reality itself as a reliable indicator of what is; we claim a kind of right to determine our own individual notion of reality.

This notion is so widespread today that many don’t even recognize the logical absurdity of such utterances as “Well it may be true for you, but not for me.” Never mind little niceties like the principle of non-contradiction, which says that “A” cannot at the same time be “Not A.” Most moderns are content to claim that they live in their own silo, in their own individual world, in their own head. Increasingly, they do not recognize any debt to a reality “out there” or to their need to make rational claims easily understood by others.

In yesterday’s post I listed the five universal natural inclinations discussed by St. Thomas in both his commentary on Aristotle’s Ethics and in various places in the Summa Theologica (e.g., I IIae qq. 6-10, I q. 5 inter al). Here they are again:

  1. The natural inclination to what we see as good
  2. The natural inclination to self-preservation
  3. The natural inclination to the knowledge of the truth
  4. The natural inclination to sexual intimacy and the rearing of offspring
  5. The natural inclination to live in society

Today I would like to discuss just the first one and leave the others for future posts. Because the ideas of nominalism and its successor movements are lodged very deeply in the minds of many—even pew-sitting, catechism-reading Catholics—the notions on the list may seem to you to be naïve at best and dangerous at worst. Some consider this approach dangerous because it exudes a confidence in our capacity to discover and be inclined to the good and true that some fear is too vague to form the basis for a moral vision.

Because I have written extensively on our human tendency to prefer lies to truth, I pray that you, dear reader, will not accuse me of naiveté. Despite whatever sinful tendencies may cloud our natural inclination to what is good, true, and beautiful, our nature has not changed; we are still wired for the good. We must, in spite of our tendencies to darkness, never forget that we were made for the light and that somewhere under all the layers of denial and sin lies a heart and mind wired for the truth and unhappy with anything less. I might add that the very same Jesus who remarked that many prefer the darkness because their deeds are evil (Jn 3:19) also said that we who are evil know how to give good things to our children (Mat 7:11). Both of these things are collectively true of us.

So again, I would argue that although these inclinations are not lived out perfectly (they are only inclinations) they are hard to completely refute because they are so obviously present in the whole of humanity. As such they form a bridge from the illusion of radical individualism and the “right” to invent our own reality, back to a universal and common understanding of reality. If reality is merely something we “invent” (as our post-nominalist world insists), then how does one account for the existence of such universal human inclinations, which seem to demonstrate a received and common human nature and the existence of goodness and truth “out there” for which we are wired? We must continue to insist on this as a way out of radical individualism and back to a common perception of basic truth.

Let us then press on to the discussion of the first human inclination: The natural inclination to what we see as good.

The principle described and defined – No one is inclined to do what he sees as harmful to himself; we naturally pursue what we consider beneficial. Even when we make sacrifices such as hard work, fasting, or yielding to someone else’s needs, we do so for the sake of some higher goal or good.

So “the good” is not merely that which is immediately pleasurable or preferred. But neither is the good merely that to which we are bound by moral obligation, as if it were wholly separated from happiness or even opposed to it. (I’ll expound further on the morality of the good below.)

Interestingly, St. Thomas did not actually define the good. It is so primordial that it defies description. It is known only as that to which the appetite moves the will (cf 1 Ethics 1). The good is what we desire.

The principle experiencedThat people act for what they see as good is a fundamental inclination shared by all. We are attracted to what we perceive will bless or augment us and are averse to things that will curse or harm us. We desire what seems good and are repelled by what seems odious or harmful.

This appetite for the good is so axiomatic that we do it almost without thinking. With very little deliberation, we are almost instantly drawn to basic and necessary goods such as food, shelter, and safety. The same is true for more spiritual things such as what we see as just, true, good, and beautiful. We also, in an almost instinctive sense, seek other perceived goods such as a sense of well-being, honor, respect, and esteem.

This movement toward what is seen as good is universal among human beings. We do well to ask from whence it comes and why it is so universal. It is more than instinct because human beings, unlike animals, will often forgo lower desires for the sake of higher ones. A person may fast for spiritual gain or to be admired for looking thinner. A young man may become a solider and enter a dangerous war in order to be thought brave; he may even forfeit his life to save his friends.

There must be something deeper here than mere physical instinct because many metaphysical goals are often more profound than merely physical ones. For the sake of uncovering new knowledge, new lands, or truth, many have risked life and limb. Some have set sail or voyaged into the very heavens in order to see what is on the other shore or in the skies above. Others have dedicated their whole being to the pursuit of truth and God Himself. This is not only to answer the physical question “What?” but also the more deeply metaphysical question “Why?”

We are intensely drawn to what we see as good. Everyone is wired this way; there are no exceptions.

We do well to ponder this universal inclination to the good (physical and metaphysical) as well as why we all agree on what is good (at least fundamentally). Indeed, beyond the merely physical desires for food, shelter, clothing, and safety (which we all agree are good things to be sought), many metaphysical goods are also universally esteemed. Everyone wants to be treated justly, to be free, to be esteemed, to be respected in basic ways, and to have access to what he sees as beautiful and good. No one wants to be hindered, robbed, treated unjustly, scorned, or mocked. As for social goods, heroism is universally esteemed over cowardice, telling the truth over lying, acting justly over exploiting, earning and sharing over stealing and destroying, honor and trustworthiness over treachery and unreliability. Self-control and personal discipline are esteemed. Personal responsibility and accountability are esteemed while irresponsibility and casting blame are not.

Indeed, writers throughout the centuries (and movies in the modern day) appeal to basic human longings for justice, intimacy, meaning, affirmation, challenge, and belonging to craft books, dramas, and books that appeal to our universal longing and inclination for these things we call “the good.”

We desire these things and are inclined to them even if we do not live them perfectly. They are wired into us in a way that is hard to deny by any truthful admission of our experience as human beings. This is our experience of the universal principle of our inclination to the good.

The principle distinguished – This does not mean that all human desires are lawful or free from evil. It does not mean that whatever we want is morally good. But neither is all that we desire purely egocentric or utterly individualistic. St. Thomas and those before him did not live in the post-nominalist world of radical individualism and thus should not be seen as affirming it at all.

Rather “the good” is what is capable of moving all human beings; it is what all human beings desire. As such, it is distinguished from merely what one or a few people desire. In a pre-nominalist world freer of radical individualism, St. Thomas and others before him could confidently point to “the good” and speak of it as that which all men esteem and can understand (by reason) as good through study, education, perception, and personal experience.

St. Thomas and the ancients were not unaware of the deep difference between real and apparent good. Despite our overall grasp of the good and what constitutes universal appreciation of the good, there are individual assessments of the good that do not coincide with and may even oppose what is truly good. Passions such as anger or lust can cloud individual decisions so that we may reach for what seems apparently good to us in the moment but is not really good for us and/or others in the long term. Such individual choices must be evaluated against better and higher goals to see why they are not only sinful and wrong but are self-defeating (because they substitute apparent good in place of what is truly good).

The principle reiterated – Despite the human tendency to misjudge the good in this way, the fundamental point remains valid: human reason and will are profoundly oriented to the truly good and beautiful; we will never be happy without that. We are wired for the truth. Whatever we do to try to suppress this (e.g., repeated bad choices, rationalizations, or surrounding ourselves with false teachers), ultimately we cannot shake our orientation toward the good, the true, and the beautiful. We are wired for it and cannot silence that small, still voice of God within us saying, “This is the way; walk in it,” whenever we would stray to the right or the left (cf Is 30:21). A thousand misapplications of pursuing the good cannot jettison our deeper desire to lay hold of what we know is truly good. We will either move toward it or else remain sad and angry trying to resist it.

Recovering this crucial insight into our natural inclination is an important milestone on our way out of the radical individualism and skepticism of our day. Because the inclination to the good is so universal it is a first countermeasure against individualism. The individualistic claim of a right to construct a reality that is true for me cannot account for the universal inclination to the good observed everywhere in the human family. Simply put, there are basic goods to which we are all inclined. And this inclination, though not perfectly lived, points inward to a received and common nature, and outward to actual goods out there that are the objects of our inclinations and desires.

I understand that this type of post is heavy reading. I will discuss the other universal inclinations in future posts, but not tomorrow. This sort of stuff is best read in smaller bites with time to digest in between courses!

N.B. I have based some of my post today on reflections made by Fr. Servais Pinckaers, O.P. in his lengthy book The Sources of Christian Ethics (pp. 401-456).

Is There a Way Back to Undeniable Reality and Universally Binding Norms?

thomas-aquinasIt is easy to suppose that we think and understand the world in substantially the same way that those who lived in the biblical age did. But in important ways this is not so.

We today tend to “live in our heads” a lot more than did the people living in biblical times and even those who lived up to and including the High Middle Ages and the Scholastic Period. Prior to that time, the “real world” was taken to be largely self-evident. By “real world” I mean not just the physical world but also to a significant degree the metaphysical (literally, “beyond the physical”) world.

For the ancients, the metaphysical world included non-physical (but still real) things such as justice, mercy, love, desire, and truth. It also included the characteristics or qualities by which we group and understand reality (e.g., “green-ness,” or “tree-ness”); these are often called “universals.” There were also more technical categories into which things were grouped such as those of biology: kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, and species. Other disciplines employed similar categorizations that, while metaphysical, were considered to be real and reliable ways of explaining the world.

In the 13th and 14th centuries, a school of thought later called “nominalism” began the move away from this sort of thinking. It proposed that universals did not exist at all but were instead merely constructs of the human mind.

But if these things were merely constructs of the human mind and not somehow rooted in reality, then these man-made constructs could be “un-made.” Thus began the journey away from the “real world,” which led to less and less confidence in our ability to even posit a “real world” out there to which we could refer and take as a given.

Less than 300 years later, Rene Descartes was so despairing that anything definitively existed outside himself that he could only say, “I think therefore I am.” Beyond himself as a thinking and doubting agent, all bets were off. Was there actually anything reliably and objectively real outside his own mind? He couldn’t be sure. What was real and what was merely a construct? Who could say for sure? Such skepticism (which is largely useless for daily life) took a long time to reach the masses of people outside the universities, but today it has. We currently live in a post-nominalist, post-Cartesian, post-Kantian world, deeply infected by Nietzsche’s nihilism.

Yes, welcome to the modern age, in which “reality” is increasingly up for negotiation. Relativism and skepticism reign supreme and we can “rationalize” just about anything in our own little world of one. Everything is just an opinion; something can be true for you but not for me. And we actually congratulate ourselves (as “tolerant” and “open-minded”) for spouting these logical absurdities!

Even we who strive to be faithful Catholics are often imbued with nominalist thinking that often rears its head in casuistry, aspects of “manual theology,” and rationalist thinking and tortured legalism. There is no time here to explain the problematic qualities of these except to say that they amount to an overreaction and seek to solve the problem inside the deeply flawed system they critique. It tends to amount to little more than lipstick on a pig.

How do we find our way back out of the flawed intellectual system to which we are heir? It seems a little like asking an amnesiac to find his own way home.

One way to begin is to realize that human nature has not changed, even if our intellects have suffered. As a moral theologian and pastor, I have found it helpful (in recovering some moral sensibility and common ground) to speak to the universal human longings and inclinations we all share. These are longings and inclinations so basic that they almost go unremarked upon. They are so basic as to be practically undeniable.

St. Thomas Aquinas (drawing from Aristotle) lists five fundamental human inclinations and shows how they form the basis of (morally) good decision making. St. Thomas (and certainly Aristotle) lived before the nominalist divide cast doubts on our ability to know and contact reality as reality. He lived in a time in which people were more confident in their ability to seek the truth, find it, and conform to it. Thus St. Thomas could propose a moral system based on virtue and our common inclination to the good, the true, and the beautiful, rather than rooted in laws and mandates to be obeyed for fear of reprisal. Though sober about human sinfulness, St. Thomas could still confidently appeal (in his pre-nominalist world) to this shared propensity to make progress out of sin through virtue.

So we amnesiacs do well to look to these inclinations that St. Thomas confidently asserts and recognize how universally they still apply today: from the atheist to the most firm believer, from the worst sinner to the most blessed saint. I will list them in today’s post and develop them further tomorrow.

  1. The natural inclination to what we see as good
  2. The natural inclination to self-preservation
  3. The natural inclination to the knowledge of the truth
  4. The natural inclination to sexual intimacy and the rearing of offspring
  5. The natural inclination to live in society

I realize that in simply listing them here, I may cause many questions and/or doubts to arise in your minds. I will attempt to address these in tomorrow’s post.

Now just because we have an inclination doesn’t mean that we always get it right. While we all share a longing for what we see as good, it does not follow that every apparent good we seek is an actual good. What is evident, however, is that everyone naturally reaches for what he thinks (even if erroneously) is good and not for what he sees as disgusting, loathsome, or harmful. Our natural inclination to the good is not always correct in its aim, but the inclination itself is so universal that it cannot be denied.

This universal inclination is a way out of the individualism, skepticism, and “living in our heads” that is so common today. It is a way back to the universals that must form the basis for recapturing a reality that binds and instructs us all.

I’ll provide more on the particulars tomorrow if you’re brave enough to come back for more!

Disclaimer – I realize that for trained philosophers my layman’s summary of 700 years of intellectual and philosophical trends may cause concern, and it may incite a desire to provide more information and/or to expound upon distinctions I’ve failed to make in this essay. But please remember that I write as a pastor for a general audience, not as a professor addressing graduate students. I want to point to the forest and not get lost in the details of the thousands of trees. At some point too many details obscure the message. Much more can and should be said on the subject (You may say that brevis esse laboro, obscurus fio (when I labor to be brief, I become obscure.)). So please forgive my broad summary. And if you’re still not satisfied, then please write a “readable” book (of fewer than 1000 pages) with the details. 😉