Author: Msgr. Charles Pope

In the secular world a “mystery” is something that baffles us or eludes understanding, something that lies undisclosed. And the usual response of the world to a mystery is to resolve it, to get to the bottom of if, to uncover it. Mysteries must be overcome! The riddle, the “whodunit,” must be solved!

In the Christian—especially the Catholic—world, a mystery is something a bit different. In our world, the concept includes the recognition that there are hidden aspects of things, people, and situations that extend beyond their visible, physical dimensions.

One of the best definitions I have read of mystery is one by the theologian and philosopher John Le Croix. Fr. Francis Martin introduced it to me some years ago in one of his recorded conferences. Le Croix says,

Mystery is that which opens temporality and gives it depth. It introduces a vertical dimension and makes of it a time of revelation, of unveiling.

Fr. Martin’s classic example of this to his students is the following:

Suppose you and I are at a party, and Smith comes in the door and goes straightaway to Jones and warmly shakes his hand with both his hands. And I say, “Wow, look at that.” And you say, puzzled, “What’s the big deal? They shook hands, so what?” And then I tell you, “Smith and Jones have been enemies for thirty years.”

And thus there is a hidden, richer meaning beyond what meets the eyes. This is mystery. There is something hidden, something accessible only to those who know and are initiated into the mystery and who come to grasp some dimension of it; it is the deeper reality of things.

In terms of faith there is also a higher meaning that mystery brings. And thus Le Croix added above, It [mystery] introduces a vertical dimension, and makes of it a time of revelation, of unveiling.

Hence we come to appreciate something of God in all He does and all He has made. Creation is not just dumbly there. It has a deeper meaning and reality. It reveals its Creator, and the glory of Him who made it. The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands (Psalm 19:1).

In the book of Sirach, after a long list of the marvels of creation, there comes this magnificent line: Beyond these, many things lie hid; only a few of God’s works have we seen (Sirach 43:34).

Indeed, there is a sacramentality to all creation. Nothing is simply and dumbly itself; it points beyond and above, to Him who made it. The physical is but a manifestation of something and Someone higher.

In this reductionist world, such thinking is increasingly lost. We poke and prod in order to “solve” the mysteries before us. And when have largely discovered something’s physical properties we think we have exhausted its meaning; we have not. In a disenchanted age, we need to rediscover the glory of enchantment, of mystery. There is more than meets the eye. Things are deeper, richer, and higher than we can ever fully imagine.

Scripture, which is a prophetic interpretation of reality, starts us on our great journey by initiating us into many of the mysteries of God and His creation. But even Scripture does not exhaust the mystery of all things; it merely sets us on the journey ever deeper, ever higher. Mysteries unfold; they are not crudely solved.

For the Christian, then, mystery is not something to be solved or overcome so much as to be savored and reverenced. To every person we know and everything we encounter goes up the cry, O magnum et admirabile mysterium (O great and wondrous mystery)! Now you’re becoming a mystic.

Here is Fr. Francis Martin speaking briefly on the subject of mystery:

The life of St. Bernadette Soubirous was steeped in paradox and irony. She was the chosen visionary of our Lady at Lourdes and was to bring forth, by heavenly guidance, a spring that would bring miraculous healing to thousands. Yet Bernadette herself was beset with health problems that would cause her dreadful suffering. Her quiet and heroic suffering, something she accepted with obedience and as a kind of mission for souls, is not common knowledge today. Hers was a beautiful, difficult testimony; she suffered mightily. I base my reflections here on a biography of her by Fr. Rene Laurentin: Bernadette Speaks: A Life of St. Bernadette Soubirous in Her Own Words.

Bernadette Soubirous was born in January of 1844. Her father and mother were among the working poor of the town of Lourdes, France. Her father was a resident miller of a mill he did not own. For a time, the family found lodging in the Boly Mill, where Bernadette was born. Surely the persistent, gentle sounds of the mill grinding the wheat were some of her earliest memories. But famine brought financial ruin to the Soubirous family; the mill was sold and they lost everything. So poor did they become that they were forced to live in a cell of the former town jail.

Such poverty and poor nutrition surely contributed to her later health troubles and to her diminutive stature. Bernadette stood only 4 feet 7 inches tall and had an asthmatic condition that would be her cross throughout her life. Many who heard of the visionary of Lourdes and sought to meet her were surprised by the woman they met: diminutive, short of breath, and with a persistent cough. Her life was filled with suffering, and like Jesus, who suffocated on the cross, she would die in a similar (though less violent) fashion.

Bernadette’s suffering began at a young age; her health declined beginning in the sixth year of her life. She had stomach trouble, seemingly a disorder of the spleen. And the cholera epidemic of 1855 struck her cruelly. From that time on Bernadette was asthmatic. Even in the period just after the apparitions, she was so sick that she received the last Sacraments.

Although she recovered, she was constantly sought out by a constant influx of visitors to Lourdes; this tired her greatly. Her pastor and her family sought to protect her as much as possible, but she found it impossible to refuse such numbers entirely. Although Bernadette preferred solitude and shunned the fame that others gave her, she strove to be generous and patient with the steady stream of pilgrims and admirers.

Many were surprised by what they saw when they met Bernadette. They noted that she often coughed and that her asthma seemed to give her much trouble. One visitor was quite startled by her appearance, calling her “puny.” Some years later, another visitor described waiting in the entryway of the convent-school while Bernadette was summoned. As Bernadette came up the hall (with a sister escorting her) the visitor heard the sound of labored breathing and wheezing. The sister entered, followed by a “small child who looked to be merely 13 or 14.” Yet Bernadette was by this time 19 years old. The visitor noted that her face was oval and full, but her cheeks were rather red (a common problem in those who have asthma).

Yes, many visitors were surprised that a woman whose legacy loomed so large was herself so diminutive and in such poor health. They would ask, “Have you prayed for a cure?” The answer often came back simply, strangely, and laconically, “No.”

A visiting priest arrived to question Bernadette about the apparitions and, finding her in bed, asked how long she had been sick:

“Over a week,” she answered.
“And what ails you?”
“My chest,” she noted.
He observed that her cough indicated a considerable weakness in her chest.
“Are you asking the Blessed Virgin for a cure? Hasn’t the water from the grotto helped many people? Why wouldn’t she heal you?”
“Perhaps she wants me to suffer,” Bernadette replied.
“Why would she want you to suffer?”
“Maybe I need to suffer.”
“Why do you need to suffer?”
“Ah, God knows!” she said.
“Yes, people say that she told you that you would suffer very much.”
“Yes,” replied Bernadette, “but she promised me I would be happy in the next life.”

And here is a brief picture of what would be her life: often terrible sufferings, but accepted because she believed that she had been (in some sense) “assigned” this lot. Yes, it is a great paradox.

Despite her many illnesses, Bernadette certainly had her strengths. She stood up to strong interrogation. At one point the town commissioner, anxious about the crowds, warned her not to return to the grotto. She indicated respectfully that she was compelled to go there and that she could not guarantee that she would not. He threatened to lock her away in jail. “Then I guess I couldn’t go to the grotto!” was her fearless response. She was no shrinking violet, despite her illnesses. She knew what she had seen and heard, and no amount of scoffing or threats made her doubt what she had experienced. She also fiercely resisted anyone’s attempts to embellish or misrepresent the apparition. What had happened had happened; there was to be no adding or subtracting from it. She was serenely confident and never wavered from her descriptions.

Bernadette’s teachers among the Sisters of Charity of Nevers noted that her character was strong and that she had her stubborn moments. She could be sensitive to small injustices and was said to be somewhat mischievous, especially in her younger years. Despite her fame for being a saint (because she had seen the Blessed Virgin), she displayed no affectations of sanctity. Bernadette did not play to the crowds. Her family and the nuns who taught her insisted that she was as normal a girl as one could imagine.

As the years went by, her health problems multiplied. One of the sisters in the school she attended noted that Bernadette was regularly short of breath and that she experienced all kinds of other troubles: toothaches, frequent rheumatism in her leg, and a painful shoulder—so painful that it almost caused her to faint. Her frequent coughs brought on vomiting, and she often coughed up blood, sometimes in large quantities. She would often have to be brought to the window to help her breathe.

In sickness Bernadette was never known to be impatient. The winter and the months of early spring were the worst for her.

Many visitors would ask her if she wanted to be a nun. She said, “Yes, but I haven’t the health.” By 1864 her poor health had not improved much, but her attraction to the religious life had grown. Bernadette despaired that she would ever have the health to enter into the religious life. And yet the sisters who saw her growth in holiness were willing to make exceptions.

In 1866 Bernadette entered The Sisters of Charity of Nevers, the same order that had schooled her in Lourdes. Entering the novitiate, she looked forward to the relative seclusion and solitude. The steady stream of visitors and the burden of her fame continued to weary her.

Within a month of entering, as the cool of late September approached, Bernadette’s asthma grew worse. The sisters who ran the infirmary marveled at her ability to withstand suffering. Her choking and coughing were profound yet she did not complain. She said to the sisters, “It’s necessary; it’s nothing.”

So intense were her sufferings that by late October the chaplain was summoned. It was announced to the community that Bernadette would probably not last through the night. The local bishop was summoned as well, and he admitted her into solemn vows that evening presuming that she would not survive the night. Indeed, she had just vomited a basin-full of blood and could barely recite her vows; the Bishop of Nevers recited her answers on her behalf. He left the room that night convinced he would never see her alive again.

And yet Bernadette made another miraculous recovery. Patterns such as this continued until her death in 1879. With every passing year, the asthmatic flare-ups in the winter and early spring worsened, each time bringing her closer to death.

Bernadette entered the infirmary for the last time in December of 1878. In addition to her asthma, she had a tumor that produced rigidity in her knee and caused horrible suffering. The pain was so intense for Bernadette that it sometimes took an hour to move her into a “good” position. Her face was said to have taken on a cadaverous appearance.  If she was able to sleep at all, even the slightest movement of her leg would elicit involuntary screams. She lost weight and was said to have slipped away to almost nothing. The descriptions of her condition at this time included the following: chronic asthma, chest pains accompanied by the spitting up of blood, an aneurysm of the aorta, a tumor on the knee, stomach pains, bone decay, abscesses, and bedsores.

Bernadette revealed that she was no longer able to meditate. She was heard to murmur from time to time, “My God, I offer this up to you. Give me patience.” One of the sisters in the Infirmary said that Bernadette’s poor body seemed to be nothing but one large wound.

During Holy Week of 1879, Bernadette’s bedsores became extreme. She coughed almost continuously. By now she knew and stated aloud, “My passion will last until I die.” Still, she rarely complained, though involuntary groans often came forth. Bernadette’s concern seemed to be more about the others around her in the infirmary who were disturbed by her coughing, than about her own condition.

Added to this were satanic attacks. She was heard to say, “Be gone, Satan.” She admitted that the devil tried to frighten her. But when she invoked the holy name of Jesus, the devil soon disappeared.

As death drew near she marveled, saying, “I wouldn’t have thought it took so much suffering to die.” But she then added, “It is no sacrifice to give up a miserable life, where we encounter so many hardships, to belong to God.” She further lamented, “I’m afraid I’ve received so many graces, and have profited so little.”

Her gaze was now directed most frequently toward the crucifix on the wall. She began to extend her arms in imitation of Christ on the cross, saying, “My Jesus! How I love Him!”

Two days before she died, St. Bernadette offered a metaphor for the mystery of her suffering. Something in her hearkened back to the Boly Mill where she grew up in Lourdes. The grinding of the millstone had lulled her to sleep as an infant and accompanied her first years as a child. Perhaps it was that now-distant memory that caused her to say, shortly before she died, “I am ground like a grain of wheat.” She had never willfully complained about her suffering. Somehow she seemed to know this was her mission: to suffer for others.

Yes, it was a supreme paradox that this visionary of Lourdes, who found through God’s grace and Mary instruction a spring of healing water for multitudes, would herself suffer so much for souls, offering her agonies for them, for us. It was her personal and hidden passion for us. The other side of the gift of healing that Lourdes gives is the grace to endure suffering.

Bernadette died on April 16, 1879. Her long passion was now ended. Like Jesus, she gave over her spirit and breathed her last. She was 35 years old.

Visitors to her tomb are able to see her incorrupt body in the glass casket at Nevers. But the face that they look upon is really a wax mask. Surely it captures her beauty, but it also hides the glory of her suffering: suffering embraced and accepted. Her true face at death was more gaunt and showed the effects of the cross she accepted as she was “ground like wheat” and as she lost herself entirely in the Cross of Jesus.

Most know St. Bernadette simply as the little girl kneeling in prayer before the Virgin Mary in countless grottos throughout the world. Less well known is the private, personal, and profound passion of a great woman who discovered that her mission was to suffer for others.

Where does the water of Lourdes get its power to heal? Surely from the Lord. But something of Bernadette’s passion runs through those waters as well. They are indeed precious waters, bought at great price.

Saint Bernadette, pray for us.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., whose birthday we commemorate this weekend, is best known as a civil rights leader who worked to end racial injustice. But Dr. King had other things to say as he preached each Sunday, first in his own assembly and later as he moved about.

Among his recorded sermons is one in which Dr. King addresses the problem of unbelief, of materialism and atheism. His reflections are well worth pondering today because the issues he addresses are more widespread now than when he made these remarks in 1957. A transcript of the full sermon is available here: The Man Who Was a Fool.

In this sermon, Dr. King commented on Jesus’ parable of the wealthy man who had a huge harvest and, instead of sharing, just built bigger barns to hold the excess. The Lord called him a fool for thinking that his material wealth could supply his needs and give him security. Dr. King also addressed the problem of unbelief in this sermon, and pointed out its foolishness.

Following are excerpts from this sermon, with Dr. King’s words shown in black, bold, italics and my comments in plain red text. After discussing several reason why the man was a fool, Dr. King said,

Jesus [also] called the rich man a fool because he failed to realize his dependence on God. He talked as though he unfolded the seasons and provided the fertility of the soil, controlled the rising and the setting of the sun, and regulated the natural processes that produce the rain and the dew. He had an unconscious feeling that he was the Creator, not a creature.

Having discovered the inner realities of many processes, the materialistic atheist fails to ask the more fundamental questions such as “Where does the cosmos ultimately come from?” and “What is the ultimate destiny of all things?” Having found some answers, they mistake these answers for the ultimate answers. They are not.

There is no problem with a scientist saying that these sorts of questions lay beyond science, that science is only focused on material and efficient causality. That is fine; each discipline has its area of focus. But the modern error of scientism is in its claims that science alone explains all reality. It does not.

The usual response of those who ascribe to scientism (not all scientists do) to questions that science cannot answer is to dismiss them or to say that one day science will find an answer. When we, who are obviously creatures and contingent beings, dismiss a Creator, we are displaying a form of madness or of hardness of heart. Such a dismissal is neither rational nor reasonable.

This man-centered foolishness has had a long and oftentimes disastrous reign in the history of mankind. Sometimes it is theoretically expressed in the doctrine of materialism, which contends that reality may be explained in terms of matter in motion, that life is “a physiological process with a physiological meaning,” that man is a transient accident of protons and electrons traveling blind, that thought is a temporary product of gray matter, and that the events of history are an interaction of matter and motion operating by the principle of necessity.

Dr. King describes here the problem of modern reductionism, in which things are reduced to matter alone and attributed entirely to material causes. Thus even concepts such as justice, meaning, and beauty must somehow be explained materially in terms of their cause. The human soul that knows immaterial things does mediate its thoughts through the brain and central nervous system, but it does not follow that the medium is the cause. For it does not pertain to matter to be the cause of what is immaterial or spiritual.

Having no place for God or for eternal ideas, materialism is opposed to both theism and idealism. This materialistic philosophy leads inevitably into a dead-end street in an intellectually senseless world. To believe that human personality is the result of the fortuitous interplay of atoms and electrons is as absurd as to believe that a monkey by hitting typewriter keys at random will eventually produce a Shakespearean play. Sheer magic!

Many atheists think they have solved this conundrum, but I think that they “solve” it with a set of assumptions so outlandish and unproven that it requires far more “faith” to accept them than to believe in an intelligent designer and creator.

The statistical possibility that things could come together “by chance” to form complex life—let alone intelligent life—and not just once but at least twice (for reproduction’s sake) is minuscule! (As Dr. King says, “Sheer magic!”) Those who demand we accept this explanation are far more credulous than are believers, who observe creation and its intricately design and conclude (reasonably) that there is an intelligent creator.

It is much more sensible to say with Sir James Jeans, the physicist, that “the universe seems to be nearer to a great thought than to a great machine,” or with Arthur Balfour, the philosopher, that “we now know too much about matter to be materialists.” Materialism is a weak flame that is blown out by the breath of mature thinking. Exactly! The universe shouts design and intelligence.

Another attempt to make God irrelevant is found in non-theistic humanism, a philosophy that deifies man by affirming that humanity is God. Man is the measure of all things. Many modern men who have embraced this philosophy contend, as did Rousseau, that human nature is essentially good. Evil is to be found only in institutions, and if poverty and ignorance were to be removed everything would be all right. The twentieth century opened with such a glowing optimism. Men believed that civilization was evolving toward an earthly paradise.

The Catholic Faith defines this error as utopianism and pseudo-messianism.

Before Christ’s second coming the Church must pass through a final trial that will shake the faith of many believers. The persecution that accompanies her pilgrimage on earth will unveil the “mystery of iniquity” in the form of a religious deception offering men an apparent solution to their problems at the price of apostasy from the truth. The supreme religious deception is that of the Antichrist, a pseudo-messianism by which man glorifies himself in place of God and of his Messiah come in the flesh. The Antichrist’s deception already begins to take shape in the world every time the claim is made to realize within history that messianic hope which can only be realized beyond history through the eschatological judgment. The Church has rejected even modified forms of this falsification of the kingdom to come under the name of millenarianism, especially the “intrinsically perverse” political form of a secular messianism (Catechism of the Catholic Church #675-676).

We all know what a bloodbath the 20th century became. So much for man being his own measure!

Herbert Spencer skillfully molded the Darwinian theory of evolution into the heady idea of automatic progress. Men became convinced that there is a sociological law of progress which is as valid as the physical law of gravitation. Possessed of this spirit of optimism, modern man broke into the storehouse of nature and emerged with many scientific insights and technological developments that completely revolutionized the earth. The achievements of science have been marvelous, tangible and concrete. …

[But] Man’s aspirations no longer turned Godward and heavenward. Rather, man’s thoughts were confined to man and earth. And man offered a strange parody on the Lord’s Prayer:

“Our brethren which art upon the earth, Hallowed be our name. Our kingdom come. Our will be done on earth, for there is no heaven.”

Those who formerly turned to God to find solutions for their problems turned to science and technology, convinced that they now possessed the instruments needed to usher in the new society.

Scripture says, Claiming to be wise they became fools and their senseless minds were darkened (Rom 1:22).

Then came the explosion of this myth. It climaxed in the horrors of Nagasaki and Hiroshima and in the fierce fury of fifty-megaton bombs. Now we have come to see that science can give us only physical power, which, if not controlled by spiritual power, will lead inevitably to cosmic doom.

Atheists are forever noting how many lives were lost in the name of religion. Frankly, those numbers are not even close to those claimed in the bloodbath ushered in by atheistic materialists.

The words of Alfred the Great are still true: “Power is never a good unless he be good that has it.” We need something more spiritually sustaining and morally controlling than science. It is an instrument that, under the power of God’s spirit, may lead man to greater heights of physical security, but apart from God’s spirit, science is a deadly weapon that will lead only to deeper chaos. Make it plain, Dr. King!

Why fool ourselves about automatic progress and the ability of man to save himself? We must lift up our minds and eyes unto the hills from whence comes our true help. Then, and only then, will the advances of modern science be a blessing rather than a curse. Without dependence on God our efforts turn to ashes and our sunrises into darkest night. Unless his spirit pervades our lives, we find only what G.K. Chesterton called “cures that don’t cure, blessings that don’t bless, and solutions that don’t solve.” “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”

Note that Dr. King has called upon two Catholic intellectuals (St. Alfred the Great and G.K. Chesterton) to be his witnesses.

Unfortunately, the rich man [in the parable] did not realize this. He, like many men of the twentieth century, became so involved in big affairs and small trivialities that he forgot God. He gave the finite infinite significance and elevated a preliminary concern to ultimate standing. After the rich man had accumulated his vast resources of wealth—at the moment when his stocks were accruing the greatest interest and his palatial home was the talk of the town—he came to that experience which is the irreducible common denominator of all men, death.

At every funeral I say to the mourners, “You are going to die.” And then I tell them that we must get ready, not with more things but with more God.

The fact that he died at this particular time adds verve and drama to the story, but the essential truth of the parable would have remained the same had he lived to be as old as Methuselah. Even if he had not died physically, he was already dead spiritually. The cessation of breathing was a belated announcement of an earlier death. He died when he failed to keep a line of distinction between the means by which he lived and the ends for which he lived and when he failed to recognize his dependence on others and on God.

May it not be that the “certain rich man” is Western civilization? Rich in goods and material resources, our standards of success are almost inextricably bound to the lust for acquisition.

The means by which we live are marvelous indeed. And yet something is missing. We have learned to fly the air like birds and swim the sea like fish, but we have not learned the simple art of living together as brothers. Our abundance has brought us neither peace of mind nor serenity of spirit.

An Oriental writer has portrayed our dilemma in candid terms:

“You call your thousand material devices ‘labor-saving machinery,’ yet you are forever ‘busy.’ With the multiplying of your machinery you grow increasingly fatigued, anxious, nervous, dissatisfied. Whatever you have, you want more; and wherever you are you want to go somewhere else. You have a machine to dig the raw material for you, a machine to manufacture [it], a machine to transport [it], a machine to sweep and dust, one to carry messages, one to write, one to talk, one to sing, one to play at the theater, one to vote, one to sew, and a hundred others to do a hundred other things for you, and still you are the most nervously busy man in the world. Your devices are neither time-saving nor soul-saving machinery. They are so many sharp spurs which urge you on to invent more machinery and to do more business.” So true!

…The means by which we live have outdistanced the ends for which we live. Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missiles and misguided man. Like the rich man of old, we have foolishly minimized the internal of our lives and maximized the external. We have absorbed life in livelihood.

We have maximized the minimum and minimized the maximum.

We will not find peace in our generation until we learn anew that “a man’s life consists not in the abundance of the things which he possesses,” but in those inner treasuries of the spirit which “no thief approaches, neither moth corrupts.” Our hope for creative living lies in our ability to re-establish the spiritual ends of our lives in personal character and social justice. Without this spiritual and moral reawakening we shall destroy ourselves in the misuse of our own instruments. Our generation cannot escape the question of our Lord: What shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world of externals—airplanes, electric lights, automobiles, and color television—and lose the internal—his own soul? Amen!

St. Paul wrote, All things are lawful for me, but not all things are expedient (1 Cor 6:12). The word “expedient” in this context means useful, profitable, or helpful.

In this verse, when St. Paul says that “all things are lawful” he does not refer to things that violate the moral law of God, but rather to those that, while lawful, may not be helpful. For it sometimes happens that what is fine for one causes harm to another. A glass of wine may be good for most, but not for an alcoholic. A few potato chips are a tasty treat, but are not a wise choice for those who struggle to eat them in moderation. Salt and sugar are both gifts of God, but they are not helpful for those with hypertension or diabetes. I love peanut butter, but I cannot eat it in moderation so I don’t eat it at all. Extensive traveling may be fun and enriching, but perhaps not such a good idea for someone who has duties at home to care for children.

Learning that not all things are helpful or expedient saves us a lot of trouble.

Again, St. Paul is not saying that transgressions of the moral law are lawful. He is not saying that promiscuity, wrathful anger, greed, etc. are above criticism. These sorts of things ought to be critiqued, and those who engage in them should be corrected and called to repentance.

But even in the case of lawful pleasures, care should be taken. And thus St. Paul speaks of accepting the fact that not all pleasures are for appropriate for us or to be indulged in just because we want to. Other factors such as health, safety, charity toward others, cost, and the relationship of pleasure to duty may make a particular lawful pleasure inexpedient for us.

I thought of all this as I watched the video below. It features a youngster with a strange horn protruding from his head (perhaps it is the devilish horn of some sin or addiction). He sees others eating ice cream and wants some for himself. But the ice cream man warns the boy that this pleasure is not for him (for some unknown reason related to the horn). This pleasure is lawful, but for the boy it is not expedient.

The youngster has a meltdown in response and the ice cream man relents. As you will see, the boy suffers the ill effects. For as St. Paul says, “All things are lawful for me, but not all things are expedient.”

It is rather a typical assumption of the modern Western mind that differences and hostilities are due mainly to misunderstandings or a lack of proper information; that if we would discuss (“dialogue”), share information, respect pluralism (diversity), and overcome misunderstandings, all would be well and there would be peace.

Missing in this approach is the more sober notion of the hardness of human hearts. Information alone does not usually bring peace and an end to trouble. Rather, transformation effected by repentance and conversion is the truer and more biblical answer. But repentance and conversion usually require a lot more than dialogue or the sharing of information.

Biblically, repentance is usually effected by a combination of instruction and admonition. Teaching and the setting forth of doctrine are essential, but warning about the consequences of disregarding the truth must also take place. As He taught, Jesus consistently warned that in the end there will be sheep and goats, those to the right and those to the left, the wise and foolish virgins, those who will hear “Come blessed of my Father ..” and those who will hear, “Depart from me you evil doers.” Yes, His parables are filled with warnings as are his more discursive teachings, in which He warns that no one will come to the Father except through Him and that Unless you come to believe that I AM, you will die in your sins (Jn 8:24).

The Catholic columnist Joseph Sobran spoke to the sober reality that in our national conversation today we are quite often dealing with hardened sinners. He writes,

We are not dealing with conscientious differences, but with hardened consciences. [For example] such people are willing to pretend that killing isn’t killing; they shrink from using the word “kill” to describe what abortion does, though they would presumably acknowledge the bug sprays kill bugs and weed killers kill weeds.  

Christ himself expected everyone to recognize and acknowledge the truth. He didn’t speak of pluralism and religious differences; he was quite in emphatic that if men rejected the truth—his truth—when it was offered to them, they condemned themselves … Forgiveness, yes, even for those who crucified him; but tolerance in the modern sense, no. His truth was so authoritative, so compelling, that he seemed to assume that nobody who encountered it, simple peasant or learned epistemologist could deny it in good faith. He [also] warned that rejection and persecution would be the normal a lot of Christians, because the world would hate the light and willfully refuse to convert, not because it might be innocently misinformed (Subtracting Christianity, page 84).

Sobran gives a rather succinct statement of the problem as well as the biblical response to it. In the face of hardened hearts we cannot merely presume a lack of information. Rather, we must vigorously insist on the truth, warn others of their obligation to obey it, and be ready to accept persecution on account of our stance. Serious pathologies require strong medicine. And while tactful and pleasant approaches have their place, so does a vigorous and unambiguous statement of the problem and a clear call to repentance. Simply “inviting” people to the truth is not enough; we need to insist on it. This is especially the case within the Church. It is something that clergy (in parish settings) and parents (in the home) need to do in a better and more balanced way. Teaching must include not only information, but also a proper dose of warning, reproof, and admonition. This is often lacking today.

Fr. Thomas Dubay, in his book Authenticity (pp. 186-195), also explored the problem of hardened hearts and the rather stark, sober, biblical assessment of it. In what follows, I summarize Fr. Dubay’s material by weaving together his thoughts with some of my own. Though I do not quote him exactly, I want to be clear that the insights and the gathering of the material are his work more so than mine.

Fr. Dubay introduces the problem by stating that the typical theologian or moralist today often assumes that most (if not all) disagreements are due to insufficient data and or inadequate analysis.

Fr. Dubay states bluntly that this was emphatically not the biblical worldview. Indeed, when we look at biblical discussions of religious and moral disagreements we find a worldview almost totally at odds with this modern notion of mere misunderstanding or lack of information. The sacred text of Scripture is far more sober about the hardness of the human heart and about the sad reality that many reject the truth not out of ignorance or poor information but out of willful resistance and refusal to come to the light, which they have grown to hate.

Fr. Dubay presents a number of explanations for this hardness that are advanced by the Scriptures.

I. There is an inner darkness caused by unrepentant sin. Sin darkens the mind and brings obscurity (Wisdom 2:21). Not only does the man of the flesh, the stubbornly worldly person, fail to understand the things of the spirit; he simply cannot understand them (1 Corinthians 2:14). The fleshly and worldly do not know God at all (1 Corinthians 15:33–34). The “god of this world” blinds the eyes of obstinate unbelievers and prevents them from seeing (2 Corinthians 4:4). Such sinners avoid the light, for it exposes their evil lifestyle (John 3:20). They stumble about in the darkness not even knowing over what they stumble (Proverbs 4:19). And all the while they refuse to listen; they stubbornly turn their backs and stop up their ears, hardening their hearts against the truth (Zechariah 7:11–12). They have closed their minds. Jesus says of many, For this people’s heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them (Matthew 13:15). 

Note that this inner darkness is not just something that happens by accident or through a mere lack of information that simple dialogue will clear up. Rather, it is the result of obstinate sin and the refusal to repent. As the darkness grows deeper, the ability to see is lessened and the light of truth comes to seem harsh and obnoxious. Such souls are largely closed to mere exhortation or instruction and require stronger medicine: firm teaching, warning, and the grace of repentance to remove the darkness. This will usually be no friendly dialogue! It must be a convicted and urgent proclamation that will often bring persecution—even martyrdom—to those who undertake it (John 15:18; Acts 7).

Today we prefer to think that most people who are in error are sincere. While not excluding some degree of this in a few, Scripture is far less sanguine. Scripture gives as a more routine diagnosis: many simply prefer the darkness because their deeds are wicked (John 3:20). This will bring judgement on them. Jesus says, He who does not believe has been judged already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. This is the judgment, that the Light has come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the Light, for their deeds were evil (John 3:18-19). This inner darkness is without excuse and is rooted in obdurate hearts that prefer sin to holiness, darkness to light.

II. Though sin darkens the intellect, the problem is rooted in a stubborn will, not simply in misinformation or lack of intelligence. Many are simply rebels, refusing to listen to the Lord or His representatives (Ezekiel 2:1–7). They do not listen because their hearts are evil (Jeremiah 6:10; 7:24). They have hardened their hearts (Zechariah 7:11–12).  Not even resurrection from the dead will convince the one who does not want to believe (Luke 16:31; John 15:24).

Scripture speaks harshly of them and warns that they will undergo a harsh judgment for this refusal to believe, worse than that of Sodom and Gomorrah (Matthew 10:14–15). Prostitutes can get into the kingdom before them (Matthew 21:31–32). They refused to listen to Jesus because their father is the devil and they live as he wants them to live (John 8:43–44). They do not listen because they are not Jesus’ sheep (John 10:26–27).  The rejection of Jesus and His representatives is not due to misinformation or poor judgment; it is a sin for which there is no excuse (John 15:20–22, 24; John 16:9; 1 John 3:1).

A perverse spirit has come upon them leading them to give credence to falsehood (2 Thessalonians 2:10, 11, 12). In their perversion they have condemn themselves (Titus 3:10–11). They are without excuse because the truth is evident to them, even apart from Scripture, in the things that have been made. At some point they are handed over to their perversions permitting them to experience the full and due penalty (Romans 1:18ff).

III. Repentance and conversion are necessary to come to the light of truth. As noted, instruction alone is not enough; one must repent in order to believe the good news (Matthew 4:17). St. Peter insists that repentance is a necessary prerequisite for receiving the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:38).

Further, the person without love simply does not know God, for God is love (1 John 4:7–8).  And yet many, even whole nations, have a mysterious obduracy. Even entire cultures can become dull and shut their eyes lest they be converted and healed (Isaiah 6:9–10; Matthew 13:14–15).

To modern ears, much of this seems shocking and insensitive. We have come to prefer explanations that emphasize good will and openness, explanations that posit that those in doctrinal error and who approve of moral confusion and sin do so largely due to a lack of information, invincible ignorance, or to the sins of the Church.

While not wholly setting aside such notions, Scripture puts emphasis on the hardness of human hearts that prefer the darkness because their deeds are wicked.

And if this be the case (and Scripture says it is), then our notions of preaching and evangelizing need adjustment. Invitation, gentle dialogue, providing information, and the like all have their place. But so do a vigorous call to repentance (so often lacking today) and stern warnings of the consequences of unrepentant sin.

Warnings of punishment make many modern people wince. But these warnings are part of the biblical witness and preachers like Paul, Peter, James, John, Jude, and Jesus Himself never got the memo that such warnings should be soft-pedaled. They were more sober about the fallen human condition than most of us are today.

The error of universalism (the unbiblical notion that just about everyone is going to Heaven) has infected modern thinking as well. This is simply not what Scripture teaches. It is often rooted in a false and soft notion of love. No one loves you more than Jesus does and yet no one warned more of judgement and Hell than He did. Most of the teaching on Hell and judgment comes right from the mouth of Jesus.

Given the rather sober portrait that Scripture paints of the stubborn preference of many for darkness (because their deeds are wicked), such a teaching makes sense and calls us to combine clear teaching with an unambiguous call to repentance, and a warning about what sin brings and about the awful destiny of the stubbornly unrepentant.

But, Father, but Father, what about the Year of Mercy? Well, this why we need mercy! We are hard to save. Only boatloads of grace and mercy are going to break through the stubbornness of some. But mercy is accessed through repentance. The Lord is knocking but we have to answer through repentance. Oh, sinner, why don’t you answer? Someone is knocking at your door!

In the Divine Office, we are currently reading from the Wisdom Tradition. Thus our daily fare consists of passages from Sirach, Wisdom, Proverbs, etc. Praise the Lord. They have a lot to say about the times in which we live.

I’d like to review a few of the sayings in the Book of Proverbs. But before doing so, I’d like to explain the use of the word fool in the Wisdom Tradition (as contrasted with the wise one). Without a richer understanding of the term fool it is possible to think it a mere ad hominem attack, or a dismissal of opponents through name-calling and ridicule.

To the modern mind, the term fool is demeaning and hurtful. In modern usage, fool tends to refer to one who is irredeemably stupid, buffoonish, and lacking in common sense—one who is “dumb as a rock.”

However, when the Scriptures use the term fool it is set forth in contrast with the wise and wisdom. Its meaning is more nuanced, more descriptive of a rejection of wisdom rather than merely pejorative. There are several Hebrew words in Proverbs and other places that are translated as fool. Let’s look at two of those.

The first Hebrew root of fool is אֱוִיל (ewil), which means to be perverse and lacking in reflection. In context, the word refers to

1. those who despise wisdom and discipline (Proverbs 1:7, Proverbs 15:5);
2. those who mock at guilt (Proverbs 14:9);
3. those who are quarrelsome (Proverbs 20:3);
4. those who are licentious (Proverbs 7:22); or
5. those for whom attempted instruction is folly (Proverbs 16:22, Proverbs 27:22, Jeremiah 4:22, Job 5:2-3, Isaiah 19:11, Psalm 107:17).

Another Hebrew root is כְּסִיל (kasal), which means a stupid fellow, a dullard. In context, the word refers to

1. those who hate knowledge (Proverbs 1:22);
2. those who delight not in understanding (Proverbs 18:2);
3. those who love to do mischief (Proverbs 10:23, Proverbs 12:23, Proverbs 15:2); or
4. those who feed on the mischief of others (Proverbs 15:14).

Thus we are not dealing with someone who is stupid, but rather one whose stance is against what is reasonable, holy, orderly, and wise. Such people may in fact have intelligence and wide knowledge about many things of the world. But their stance is against Godly Wisdom; they are set against what matters to God; they are rooted in the passing things of the world that are of darkness. They base their lives on transitory and frivolous things, which cannot be the true basis for salvation.

The Latin Vulgate often uses the word insipiens (unwise) to refer to foolishness, i.e., the setting of oneself against wisdom.

Hence simply thinking that fool means stupid fails to grasp the nuance of what is said. And while it is not a flattering portrayal, neither is it mere name-calling. Rather, it is descriptive. Fools are those who set themselves against wisdom; they are not merely stupid people.

With that in mind, let’s examine a few of the proverbs that we are reading at this time in the Divine Office. They help to explain what God’s Church and those who seek wisdom are up against. The maxims are all from the 10th chapter of Proverbs. My comments are presented in red text.

1. Blessings are for the head of the just, but a rod for the back of the fool (Prov 10:6).

God’s law is a great blessing to those who love wisdom. His commandments are not prison walls; they are defending walls. His commands do not limit freedom so much as they frame it within necessary limits.

But to the foolish, to those who hate and despise God’s wisdom, to those who hate discipline and reasonable limits; God’s law—any authority that tries to limit behavior—is hateful and punishing, like a rod on the back.

And thus many today are not simply indifferent to God’s wisdom as proclaimed by the Church and Scripture, they are openly hostile to it!

It is like the reaction of someone who has been sitting in a very dark room and is suddenly overwhelmed by bright light: he cries out in protest. He despises the light and protests its presence as something hateful and hurtful. Jesus lamented, And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their deeds were evil (Jn 3:19).

To those who despise God’s wisdom, it is seen not as a brilliant and beautiful light, a blessing for the mind to contemplate; rather, it feels like a punishing rod on the back.

2. A wise man heeds commands, but a prating fool will be overthrown. A path to life is his who heeds admonition, but he who disregards reproof goes astray (Proverbs 10:8, 17).

The wise man listens to instruction and strives to base his life upon it. The wise humbly accept that they do not know all things and must be taught by God.

But fools, those who hate wisdom, prattle on and on about their own opinions. They believe anything is true simply because they think it.

It is difficult to reason with them, for although they scoff at religious truth as mere “religion,” it is really they who exhibit a far more extreme version of “blind faith” than any Christian believer who sees faith and reason as compatible.

The text says that their end is destruction. Many political ideologies, errant trends, and misguided philosophies have come and gone over the years, yet the Church remains. The wisdom and the Word of the Lord endure forever.

3. He who walks honestly walks securely, but he whose ways are crooked will fare badly (Prov 10:9).

Evil has its hour. It rises, seems glamorous to many, and is praised and paraded about as some sort of new form of liberation.

But evil cannot last, and those who practice it will fare badly. It may come in the form of addiction, disease, strife, inner conflict, or any number of resentments rooted in false hope; but those who practice it will fare badly.

Only those who walk in honesty and in the truth—time-tested truth taught by God Himself—will walk securely. They will have trials to be sure, but even these difficulties will help them to reach their goal if they follow time-tested wisdom.

4. He who winks at a fault causes trouble, but he who frankly reproves promotes peace (Prov 10:10).

There is great pressure from many sectors today to remain silent about sin and evil. Those who do speak of sin are called judgmental and intolerant. Sadly, many Christians have succumbed to the pressure and started winking at faults. Nothing but trouble results from this. The moral cesspool of the modern age shows this.

The correction of faults, frankly and with love, is an act of charity (St. Thomas Aquinas). Error and sin bring war and division, both individually and collectively. But God’s truth, lovingly proclaimed, brings peace by insisting on what is good, right, true, and beautiful.

We live in an age that winks at evil. In other words, the world finds evil funny and often celebrates it in visual entertainment, written media, music, and other ways. The destructiveness of glamorizing evil is apparent if one simply reads a newspaper or turns on the news.

God’s law is His peace plan for this broken world of ours; it is His wisdom that will bring us peace. 

5. A fountain of life is the mouth of the just, but the mouth of the wicked conceals violence (Proverbs 10:11).

Jesus warned that Satan and those who are evil often masquerade in sheep’s clothing, but underneath are ravenous wolves (see Mat 7:15). And hence many in our world today who despise God’s wisdom conceal their violence with euphemisms such as pro-choice, no-fault divorce, reproductive freedom, euthanasia, death with dignity, and so forth.

Despite the euphemisms and their cloak of pseudo-compassion, they ultimately peddle death and division. God’s wisdom, on the other hand, speaks to the dignity of every human life, hope, and promise of life—despite any difficulties.

6. The just man’s recompense leads to life, the gains of the wicked, to sin (Proverbs 10: 16).

For those who are striving to be just and to follow God’s wisdom, the rewards received are to be shared generously with others. The gains of the wicked, however, lead to sins such as gluttony, greed, hoarding, and other excesses. Rather than sharing their abundance with others, they spend it on the flesh and they place their trust and reliance on the creature rather than on the Creator, who is blessed forever, amen.

7. Where words are many, sin is not wanting; but he who restrains his lips does well (Proverbs 10:19).

In an age of non-stop communication and 24/7 news reporting, the sin of gossip is almost endlessly available. Discretion is lost. Almost everyone thinks he has a right to know everything about everyone else. The people’s “right to know,” seems to have no limits.

And in our age of many words and many media (visual, verbal, musical, etc.), sin is not wanting on account of this. We talk endlessly about other people’s business and often ignore our own issues. Why stay in our own lane when we can “tune in at 11” or go to a scandal sheet or website for the latest gossip?

Rare indeed are those who “restrain their lips” and cover their eyes and ears to what is sinful or merely intriguing.

8. Crime is the entertainment of the fool; so is wisdom for the man of sense (Proverbs 10:23).

Our culture celebrates the sins of others as entertainment. On television, in the cinema, and in many other forms of communication, fornication, adultery, and other kinds of sexual misconduct are normalized—even celebrated.

It is the same with violence. Most adventure movies today glamorize the use of violence to solve problems. An injustice occurs and the “hero” (after 90 minutes of killing people, breaking things, and blowing up buildings) has a final showdown with the unambiguously evil enemy, killing him and walking away with the girl on his arm and the burning city in the background—roll credits.

We also glorify mobsters and others who participate in crime and violence.

Some will argue that movies should reflect life. That is fine, but most people are not killing other people, burning cities, crashing cars, or blowing up buildings. Most people are not Mafiosi. Sadly, however, there is a lot of fornication, adultery, and participation in homosexual acts. But in real life these actions are not without consequence, as movies depict.

Where are the movies that depict wisdom, beauty, love, truth, chastity, and strong families? They are out there, but too often are eclipsed at the box office by the far more numerous ones that celebrate crime, violence, dysfunction, and sinfulness.

9. When the tempest passes, the wicked man is no more; but the just man is established forever (Proverbs 10:25).

The Church alone is indefectible, by the promise of Jesus Christ. Although evil movements, political forces, sinful regimes, etc. rise and boast of their power, they eventually fall. As noted, the Church has seen empires rise and fall and philosophies come and go. Evil men have threatened the Church with destruction for thousands of years now, but we have read the funeral rites over every one of them.

The truth will out. Evil will not remain; it cannot last. Christ has already won the victory.

The foolish keep resisting; they laugh at God’s wisdom, dismiss the Scriptures, and ridicule the Church. But when they are gone, we will still be here proclaiming Christ crucified, gloriously resurrected, and ascended to glory.

Those who mock this resist the consistent message of history. Jesus is Lord, and though He permits His enemies time to repent, their days are ultimately numbered—evil cannot last.

These are just a few proverbs that speak to our times and help us to decode what God has to say of many modern trends.

Here’s a video with some other sayings. In posting this I do not mean to affirm every saying presented, but some of them do make good sense!