Author: Msgr. Charles Pope

There is a line in the first letter of John, read this week at Mass, that is of critical importance to many difficulties we see today with heresy, unbelief, and moral decay. The line says:

Beloved, do not trust every spirit but test the spirits to see whether they belong to God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world. This is how you can know the Spirit of God: every spirit that acknowledges Jesus Christ come in the flesh belongs to God, and every spirit that does not acknowledge Jesus does not belong to God. This is the spirit of the antichrist ... (1 John 4:1-3).

John also writes in the second letter,

Many deceivers, who do not acknowledge Jesus Christ as coming in the flesh, have gone out into the world. Any such person is the deceiver and the antichrist (2 John 1:7).

One of the fundamental principles at the heart of the Johannine Scriptures is that the Word became flesh. Jesus actually came in the flesh; we could touch our God. The true faith is incarnational. In Jesus Christ, God takes up the physical order, Justice … Truth springs up from the earth (cf Ps 85:12). God actually becomes man. The love of God and His salvation are tangible and real, not merely ideals, wishes, or hopes. Faith is about reality. This is John’s and the Holy Spirit’s insistence: that we not let this truth slip from our understanding even for a moment.

There are and have been many Gnostic and Neo-Gnostic tendencies through the centuries that seek to reduce faith to mere intellectualism, to ideas or opinions, and to remove things from the world of reality. Thus St. John and the Church have had to insist over and over again that Jesus is real, that faith is real and is about real, tangible, even material things.

When Jesus came among us, He was not content merely to speak of ideas. He did not simply advance ethical theories or set forth merely philosophical notions. He also addressed actual human behaviors, not merely by speaking of them, but by actually living them and modeling them in the flesh. Jesus demands from His followers not mere intellectual affirmations, but actually walking in His truth using our very bodies and living His teaching. We are to renounce unnecessary possessions, feed the poor, confess Him with our lips, reverence human sexuality through chaste living, accept (and even embrace) suffering—all for the sake of the kingdom.

Yes, faith is about real things, about actual concrete behaviors that involve not only what we think but also how we physically move our body through the created order, how we interact with the physical order and with one another.

Jesus also took up and made use of the physical and created order in His saving mission. Obviously He took it up in the incarnation, but He also referenced creation in many of His parables. He pointed to the lilies of the field and to the sparrow. He made paste with saliva and mud, anointed with oil, changed water to wine, laid hands on the bodies of countless individuals in healing, and took bread and wine and changed it to the Body and Blood. He took up the wood of the cross, laid down His body in suffering and death, and raised it up again on the third day. Then He took His body—His physical body—with Him to Heaven and sat down at the right hand of the Father.

Yet despite this radical physicality seen in the Gospel and in the work of God, there remains a persistent tendency on the part of many to reduce the faith by removing it from the physical and temporal order, rendering it a merely ethical notion, an intellectualism, a set of ideas, or even mere opinion. Faith rooted in daily reality and with measurable parameters is set aside and sophistry takes place. Never mind what a person does; all that seems to matter to many is what they think about it, or what their intentions are.

Gnostic tendencies have existed in every era, but were most severe in the early centuries among heretical groups. They have resurfaced in recent centuries, especially since the so-called Enlightenment, where human reason is exalted unreasonably.

The Protestant revolt took up the rationalism that would inspire Enlightenment times and brought the first great blow to the house of faith by rendering the Sacraments mere symbols, no longer acknowledging the touch of God. For many of them, no longer does baptism actually save us by washing away our sins, it only symbolizes faith. Holy Communion for most of them was no longer the actual Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ, but only a symbol of Him, something that evokes thoughts and memories of what He said and did. For the Protestant groups, most of the other Sacraments simply fell away. No longer was it necessary to lay hands on the sick or to lay hands in order to ordain or bless. All such things were unnecessary, even abhorrent, to many Protestants, who took up Enlightenment rationalism and reduced faith to intellectualism,  ideas, and words on a page.

Along with the Sacraments, many of the Enlightenment-era Protestants banished most beauty in the churches with iconoclastic tendencies. No longer should creation in the pigmented paints, stained glass, precious metals, candles, incense, and so forth be raised up to the glory of God. This, too, is far too incarnational for the “purity” of the rationalist mind. Stark, white-washed churches were exulted, and the feast of the senses common in Catholicism was frowned upon. Faith was “purified” of all this incarnational “excess” and was to exist only in one’s mind and heart.

In Protestantism, the use of the body to worship was also largely banished. Kneeling, sitting, standing, signs of the cross, vestments … all of this was banished. After all, what did the body have to do with anything? It was in the mind and in the heart that one worshiped God. Why bend the knee when it sufficed to bow in one’s heart?

And thus there was a great retreat from the bodily aspect of the incarnation.

Not all Protestant denominations equally indulged iconoclastic and rationalistic tendencies in this aftermath of the Enlightenment. There remained many great artistic and musical accomplishments within the Protestant realm, including architecture.  But the general pattern is visible to some extent in all the denominations founded after the Enlightenment. Worship and faith moved more into the mind and the world of ideas, and away from the created, tangible, physical realities of this world.

Neo-Gnostic and Enlightenment mentalities also reached into the Academy (i.e., the secular and even religious universities) beginning especially in the late 17th century, in the aftermath of Renée Descartes’ troubled theories and struggle with radical skepticism. We live on the dark side of the Cartesian divide, in a world skeptical and dubious of reality itself.  We are increasingly out of touch with the revelatory quality of creation. Less and less is reality anything to which we owe allegiance; all that matters is what we think, what we feel. We live increasingly in our minds, quite out of touch with reality.

Nothing exemplifies this more that the acceptance of homosexual behaviors. Even the most causal investigation of the design of the human body will show that man is made for woman and woman for man. The man is not for the man nor is the woman for the woman. The design of the body clearly reveals this and that homosexual acts are disordered. Quite literally, the parts do not fit and the purpose of sexuality is thwarted.

But in the post-Cartesian world, a world in which people increasingly live in their minds rather than reality, the body apparently has nothing to say to us, nothing to reveal. Reality is apparently not something to which we owe any allegiance. Most who support homosexual behavior are wholly dismissive of any argument that appeals to the body at all. All that seems to matter is what a person thinks or feels. The body is wholly beside the point. And thus the incarnation is dispensed with. In fact, most homosexuals will go so far as to say, “God made me this way.” Whether God “makes” people have psycho-sexual disorders is surely debatable (at best we can say He permits crosses for us all), but the design of the body, more certainly made by God, clearly speaks to how we are made. And God clearly made us this way: sexually complementary, that is completed by the opposite sex. This is how God actually made us. But again, to the modern Gnostic the body means nothing. To refer to it in an argument is like referring to some authority on the planet Xenon. The modern Gnostic lives wholly in his mind; reality and the body are at best irrelevant and at worst an irritant that must be legislated against.

Many other moral troubles of our day also bespeak a Gnostic, anti-incarnational tendency. For example the exultation of intention over actual behavior. Never mind what a person actually does. The only morally significant matter is what they intend, that they “mean well.”

Yet another tendency today is “wordsmithing.” It’s not abortion; it’s choice. It’s not contraception; it’s reproductive choice. I’m not religious, but I’m spiritual. They’re not fornicating; they’re cohabiting. The more vague, vapid, and non-descriptive the words the better. Abstractions and generalities replace clearer, more reality-based descriptions.

Here then is a brief tour of the Gnosticism of our times. We can see why St. John and the Holy Spirit were so passionate in warning against those who denied the incarnation, calling them not only false teachers but “antichrist.” We live on the ever-darkening side of the Cartesian divide, living in our minds, denying that creation or our bodies are revelation or have anything to say to us.

Of course this is antichrist; it is a slap in the face of God, who made all things and established the created by His Word, the Logos. And since all things were made through Christ, the Logos, then all creation has a “logike” (logic) that is clearly perceived in what God has made. To go on denying this is “illogical.” It is “anti-logical.” It is contrary to the Logos, the Word through whom God created and sustains all things. Contrary to the Logos is just another way of saying, “antichrist.”

(One paradox in all this is the flourishing of the material (physical) sciences in our times. I have written more on this paradox here: Cartesian Anxiety.)

One of the unfortunate couplings with those who lament the loss of the “pre-Conciliar” Mass (a.k.a. Traditional Latin Mass (TLM), Extraordinary Form, 1962 Missal, etc.) is the linking of the “New Mass” (a.k.a. Ordinary Form) wholly with the Second Vatican Council. This connection, while understandable given the emergence of the Ordinary Form just after the Council, is too simplistic and is unhelpful for a number of reasons. Without the Second Vatican Council, would the Ordinary Form of the Mass be similar to what it is today? We can only speculate. But given what was under way long before the Council in both the Church and Western culture, it seems likely that, Council or not, there would have been a heavy altering of the Mass as it was known mid-century.

I will attempt to make this argument historically in a moment, but first consider why this is strategically and pastorally important.

I. Strategy – It is significant as a pastoral stance to articulate why we should decouple concerns about the Ordinary Form of the Mass from the Second Vatican Council. It is one thing to express concerns with the current state of the liturgy, which of itself is a focused matter, capable of reconsideration, organic developments, and the exercise of legitimate options. But it is another matter to enter into a dispute with an entire Ecumenical Council, a Council that considered many things of varying theological weights and issued two dogmatic constitutions. While no new dogmas were proposed, Lumen Gentium (on the Church) and Dei Verbum (on Sacred Scripture) were important reaffirmations of the Church’s teaching regarding what are some disputed matters today.

Whether the perception is fair or not, many who favor the TLM are seen as repudiating the Second Vatican Council in general. Allowing such a perception to continue takes the legitimate discussion of liturgical concerns down a lot of rabbit holes that broaden the conversation into unnecessarily wider ideological categories (such as right vs. left, new vs. old, progressive vs. antiquarian, etc.). It also lights up other more serious matters such as ecclesiology, authority, sacramental theology, and so forth. We who love liturgical tradition would do well to focus the discussion on liturgical matters and leave other theological concerns about the Council  (if we have them at all (many of us do not)) for other times.  Further, recourse to the actual Council documents is both salutary and necessary in order to enhance ongoing liturgical excellence.

II. History – In terms of decoupling the Ordinary Form from the Council it is also helpful to recall some history that most of us know, but tend to underemphasize.

1. The “Liturgical Movement” had been underway for almost 60 years prior to the Second Vatican Council. Most liturgists fix the date of 1909 and the Malines Conference as the official beginning of the Liturgical Movement that sought to address liturgical disputes and concerns that had been brewing for centuries. Some of the concerns were very understandable: a cluttered calendar and related complexities such as multiple Collects and observances.  It’s hard to doubt that the increasing notion of “modernity” likely influenced desires for change in a more problematic way and that this idea grew through mid-century.

2. Even before 1906, Pope Pius X began an overhaul of the Breviary as he saw fit. More on that here: Strange Moments in Liturgical History

3. Then came the two World Wars. But despite that, liturgists were still meeting and writing.

4. Things started to get official in the mid-forties. The Sectio Historica of the Sacred Congregation of Rites formally commenced the work of reform in 1946 with a Promemoria intorno alla riforma liturgica. This was presented to Pope Pius XII in May. With papal approval, Austrian Redemptorist Joseph Löw began to draft a plan for a general reform. This was completed at the end of 1948 and published the following year as Memoria sulla riforma liturgica. A papal commission for liturgical reform was established in 1946, but it was May 1948 before its members were appointed. [Annibale] Bugnini, its secretary, … observes that it “worked in absolute secrecy” and enjoyed the “full confidence of the Pope” [Alcuin Reid, The Organic Development of the Liturgy, p. 150-151].

5. So note: nothing less than a papal commission was already beginning the work to set forth a plan for a “general reform” of the Liturgy. And note, too, the coming to the fore of one A. Bugnini.

6. The commission came out rather quickly with the overhaul of the Holy Week Liturgies in 1951. While well received by most, the changes were sweeping. Even more, they set forth some problematic principles later critiqued by Louis Boyer and others, including Alcuin Reid.

7. Among the shifts in principles that developed through the 1940s and 50s, was a tendency to emphasize the needs of “modern man” (as if we were some new sort of species) and to heavily weight antiquity over legitimate developments from other ages, especially the Medieval period.  Joseph Jungmann, S.J., though having authored a well-researched study of liturgical history in The Mass of the Roman Rite, tilted heavily in other works toward the ancient liturgy. Jungmann became very influential. And though Pope Pius XII warned of “antiquarianism” in Mediator Dei, the balance decidedly shifted there anyway through the 1950s and beyond.

8. Finally came the Second Vatican Council. The output of the papal commission for general reform was taken into the Council process largely “as is” and support for it expanded.

I do not in any way affirm all these. I simply note them and point out that they were under way well before the Council.

III. All of this leads to the focal question: If there had been no Second Vatican Council would we still have witnessed a significant change in the Mass and its celebration?  The answer would seem to be yes. As I have tried to show, things were already advancing quite rapidly prior to 1960 and would likely have continued apace. While the Council may have infused a widespread notion of “aggiornamento” that added rapidity and the expectation of change, the Liturgical Movement, for better or worse, was already moving along quite rapidly and deeply and would likely have continued to do so.

Clearly, I speculate here. But, frankly, so do those who would dispute the answer. None of us can really know for sure what would have happened in an alternate universe, absent the Council. However, some significant overhaul of the liturgy seemed to be in the offing, for better or worse, Council or not. (Arguably, the Ordinary Form promulgated in 1970 is not the actual Missal of the Council; the 1965 Missal is. I’d like to review its elements next week and show that the changes in it fell far short of the changes that were ushered in with the 1970 Missal.)

My real point in raising this is to encourage those of us who love the TLM and other older forms to be careful to distinguish the Second Vatican Council from the Ordinary Form of the Mass. I encourage this for the two reasons stated above: first, a strategy that allows us to be identified (fairly or not) with the repudiation of an entire Ecumenical Council is an unwise strategy; second, knowledge of the history of the whirlwind 20th century shows that the relationship of the liturgical changes to the Council are more complex than generally appreciated by a simplistic “pre-Conciliar vs. post-Conciliar” mentality.

None of what I write should be taken to mean that the Ordinary Form in its exact specifications was inevitable, or that those who love the TLM are on the “wrong side of history.” On the contrary, we should see ourselves as a legitimate part of today’s liturgical diversity and should seek to influence the discussion today rather than returning so regularly to rehash a complex Council that occurred over fifty years ago. Decoupling our stance from an assessment of the Second Vatican Council is an important element in advancing the conversation today.

OK, take what you like and leave the rest. But as with any discussion on Liturgy, try to avoid personal attacks and campy simplifications. For the record, I celebrate both forms of the Mass and find pastoral blessings and challenges in each. But let’s avoid a combox discussion that generates more heat than light. Be of good cheer; we are in the realm of speculation, not fact. In terms of strategy, reasonable people will differ.

Here is an example of how the older “ars celebrandi” can help with either form of the Mass. Most of the advice given in this video could be easily applied to the new form. Some may dispute an overly rigid mannerism, but allowing room for personal adaptation, the principles here are helpful advice.

 

In the midst of a great storm in Acts 27, St. Paul finds himself among desperate and defeated people. Though the storm is from nature, their problems are of their own doing and are rooted in a foolish refusal to listen to either natural warnings or God. All of this foolishness was described in yesterday’s post. Is there a way out of their situation? With God there is, but only with God and only by turning to Him in obedient faith. As long as we live, conversion is possible and things can change. Let’s consider how St. Paul, good pastor that he is, shepherds his doomed shipmates through the storm and to God, who can make a way out of no way. Again, the full and uninterrupted text of Acts 27 is here: Acts-27.

I. The Problem Described – Paul then came forward among them and said, “Men, you should have listened to me, and should not have set sail from Crete and incurred this injury and loss.”

So much of our trouble comes from our failure to listen to God, to obey him. Of course God seldom speaks directly. He speaks through His revealed words, in the book of Creation, and most clearly through His Church in her defined teachings and dogmatic proclamations. And while managing the weather is not usually among the Church’s dogmatic missions, allow this storm to represent the moral and ethical storms that come into a society, a culture, or an individual forsaking God and refusing to listen to His revealed truth.

The word obedience is related to hearing, for the root of the word is said to be from Ob (with or related to) + audire (to hear). Thus to obey is to listen with docility and compliance. Many if not most storms in our lives and this world can be avoided if we just listen (obey). In Scripture, God laments, Thus says the Lord, your redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: I am the Lord, your God, teaching you how to prevail, leading you on the way you should go. If only you would attend to my commandments,  your peace would be like a river, your vindication like the waves of the sea, Your descendants like the sand, the offspring of your loins like its grains, Their name never cut off or blotted out from my presence. … But there is no peace for the wicked, says the Lord (Isaiah 48:17-19,22).

II. The Prognosis Declared –  ²² I now bid you take heart; for there will be no loss of life among you, but only of the ship. ²³ For this very night there stood by me an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I worship, ²⁴ and he said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul; you must stand before Caesar; and lo, God has granted you all those who sail with you.’ ²⁵ So take heart, men, for I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told. ²⁶ But we shall have to run on some island.”

St. Paul bases his prognosis that everything will be all right not on mere wishful thinking, but on the firm experience of God in his life. And his experience is that while God has not allowed him to be without trials and difficulties, He has always permitted those difficulties only so that a greater good be achieved. St. Paul has learned that in human weakness, God’s power reaches perfection; it is able to stand in the gap. God can make a way out of no way and write straight with crooked lines. Paul has been in worse jams than this before. As he says, Five times I have received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. ²⁵ Three times I have been beaten with rods; once I was stoned. Three times I have been shipwrecked; a night and a day I have been adrift at sea; ²⁶ on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brethren; ²⁷ in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. ²⁸ And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure upon me of my anxiety for all the churches (2 Cor 11:24-28).

Yet here he stands before them. So Paul does not speak as one who has never had trouble, but as one who has experienced being delivered from troubles. In effect, St. Paul is saying, “When you’re done trying your gods, come and try mine. Stop telling your god how big this storm is and start telling this storm how big my God is.”

St. Paul also speaks based on the firm conviction (that God has put in his heart) that he must and will appear before Caesar and that he and his shipmates will thus make it to Rome.

Having tried everything else, and now chastened by their own foolishness, Paul’s shipmates finally seem to be willing to listen to him. But as it always does so beautifully, Scripture shows how they must go through a process of sorts to achieve saving trust. We can’t go from 0 to 100 in one second; we have to go through stages to get there. And that leads us to final section of this chapter.

III. The Process of Deliverance – Having secured their attention through suffering and their sense of helplessness, God now, through their shepherd, St. Paul, strengthens their meager faith.

A. Testing – When the fourteenth night had come, as we were driven up and down the sea of Adria

At first nothing seems to happen. The storm keep blowing, the ship is adrift, the crew and passengers are seasick and unable to eat. What good is this faith to which St. Paul has summoned them? And yet Scripture says,  I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord  in the land of the living! Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage;  yes, wait for the Lord! (Psalm 27:13-14) Or again,  For thus said the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength” (Is 30:15).

And so for us, our faith is often tested in waiting. Yet if we persevere, our tested faith grows stronger and stronger; faith becomes the basis of truer and deeper healing than just having a particular situation worked out.

B. Trying –  about midnight the sailors suspected that they were nearing land. ²⁸ So they sounded and found twenty fathoms; a little farther on they sounded again and found fifteen fathoms. ²⁹ And fearing that we might run on the rocks, they let out four anchors from the stern, and prayed for day to come. 

When the night was perhaps darkest, at midnight, there comes the sense that land is near. Having tried God, they now sense a change. The water is getting more shallow; surely land is nearby. It is still too dark to see, but the evidence of a coming deliverance is beginning to mount.

We, too, start to get what we call “signal graces” in our journey of faith. Perhaps we see God rescuing someone else. Perhaps we hear the testimony of someone’s deliverance. It is like Jairus, who was on the way to ask the Lord to raise his daughter from deathly illness, when he saw a woman healed just by touching the hem of Jesus’ garment. Perhaps some smaller blessings come our way. It is as if the Lord is saying, “Do you see what a little trust can do? Keep growing in trust and you will see greater things. Try me in this; prove me in this!”

C. Trusting –  ³⁰ And as the sailors were seeking to escape from the ship, and had lowered the boat into the sea, under pretense of laying out anchors from the bow, ³¹ Paul said to the centurion and the soldiers, “Unless these men stay in the ship, you cannot be saved.” ³² Then the soldiers cut away the ropes of the boat, and let it go. 

Ah, but some of the sailors, the ones most responsible for this mess, are seeking to escape stealthily in a lifeboat just big enough for them. What cowards! St. Paul confronts them for their lack of faith and warns them that they and others with them will be lost. Faith is not just personal; it is also communal. Even if individuals in a dying culture have faith, it will not usually be enough. Faith has to grow in us all. If our very leaders exempt themselves from the sufferings that some of their own decisions have caused, they will surely be lost and many of us with them. Paul gives a stern rebuke and warns of the consequences. Thanks be to God his rebuke had the desired effect and they cut the lifeboat away and stay at their posts.

So must we, especially the leaders among us such as priests and parents. Escape is appealing, but it shows cowardice, which though it may win the moment seldom wins the day.

D. Toughening –   As day was about to dawn, Paul urged them all to take some food, saying, “Today is the fourteenth day that you have continued in suspense and without food, having taken nothing. ³⁴ Therefore I urge you to take some food; it will give you strength, since not a hair is to perish from the head of any of you.” ³⁵ And when he had said this, he took bread, and giving thanks to God in the presence of all he broke it and began to eat. ³⁶ Then they all were encouraged and ate some food themselves. ³⁷ (We were in all two hundred and seventy-six persons in the ship.) ³⁸ And when they had eaten enough, they lightened the ship, throwing out the wheat into the sea.

They had found it difficult to eat; many were seasick. But they were going to need strength to get to shore.

So do we. We need food for the journey and the Lord gives it to us in the Holy Eucharist and in His Word. If we do not eat, we will not be strong. Jesus reminded the Jewish people of how God fed their ancestors in the desert and that if they had not eaten that food they would not have made it to the Promised Land. And so He then said to them (and to us),  This is the bread which comes down from heaven, that a man may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread which came down from heaven; if any one eats of this bread, he will live for ever; and the bread which I shall give for the life of the world is my flesh.” … “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you; he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so he who eats me will live because of me” (John 6:50-55).

These people in the storm needed strength to make it to the shore of the promised dry land; and so do we. The Eucharist is our viaticum (a Latin conflation meaning “I am with you on the way” = via+te+cum), our food for the journey.

E. Tenacity –  ³⁹ Now when it was day, they did not recognize the land, but they noticed a bay with a beach, on which they planned if possible to bring the ship ashore. ⁴⁰ So they cast off the anchors and committed themselves to the sea, at the same time loosening the ropes that tied the rudders; then hoisting the foresail to the wind they made for the beach. ⁴¹  And striking a shoal they ran the vessel aground; the bow stuck and remained immovable, and the stern was broken up by the surf. ⁴² The soldiers’ plan was to kill the prisoners, lest any should swim away and escape; ⁴³ but the centurion, wishing to save Paul, kept them from carrying out their purpose. He ordered those who could swim to throw themselves overboard first and make for the land, ⁴⁴ and the rest on planks or on pieces of the ship.

So here it comes. It’s all or nothing. But they’ve been getting ready for this! The text says that by casting off the anchors and anything that might hinder them (even though they were depending on it), they commit themselves to the sea and the wind. It’s all in God’s hands now. And the God of wind and sea drives the ship ashore. But some final courage is still necessary, as they must swim or float the final distance. And we, too, must finally cast aside all that we are depending on in this world and commit ourselves wholly to God; surely for our final journey, but even now in increasing degrees. Only God can save us from our foolish storms and this hellish world with which we have compromised. Increasingly, we learn to cast everything aside and wholly lean on and trust Him. This dying to self and the world can be frightening as we close the final distance and swim ashore. But see what the end of this story brought for those on the boat who finally came to faith:

F. Triumph – And so it was that all escaped to land.

Yes, here is the end of the story for all who respond to the call of faith: all escape the storm to land. Consider the foolishness that brought them into this storm. Then consider the wisdom and faith that brought them out.

A little lesson for us as individuals, for the Church, and for our soul-sick culture.

 

It is interesting that St. Luke devotes an entire chapter of Acts (27) to describing a storm at sea that St. Paul endured. The level of detail is high and thus we are signaled that such details are important. The Holy Spirit has something to teach us here about how we get into trouble and how we can get out of it.

Storms in life often come to us out of our control. Perhaps they come from nature and the sudden vicissitudes of this world. Sometimes God permits storms to test and strengthen us. Sometimes, too, others drag us into storms and we suffer on account of the poor decisions made by family members or community and cultural leaders. And some storms do come from our own stupidity and poor choices.

In the story we are about to examine, St. Paul is dragged into a storm by the stupidity and poor choices of a military official and a ship’s crew. Paul was under arrest and being sent to Rome for trial before Caesar. As such, he was in the custody of a military officer. Of all the people in this storm, St. Paul is the only one who is innocent of the foolishness that made them endure this storm. At the end, only he can show the proper way out of this fool’s errand. The storm we are about to study shows in great detail what can happen to us as individuals and as an overall culture when we defiantly and proudly resist God’s will and common sense. This is a storm that has a lot to teach us about ourselves. So let’s look at a storm that Scripture calls a Euroclydon (a Noreaster). You can read the full text here (Acts-27).

I. The Coming Danger – God sends many warnings from the natural order, from the Church, and in our own consciences. Note how often these are systematically ignored.

A. Whys and Wherefores – And when it was decided that we should sail for Italy, they delivered Paul and some other prisoners to a centurion of the Augustan Cohort, named Julius. ² And embarking in a ship of Adramyttium, which was about to sail to the ports along the coast of Asia, we put to sea, accompanied by Aristarchus, a Macedonian from Thessalonica. ³ The next day we put in at Sidon; and Julius treated Paul kindly, and gave him leave to go to his friends and be cared for. 

St. Paul was under arrest and had appealed his case to Rome. He was put in the custody of a Roman centurion named Julius, who seemed a decent enough man but was a poor judge of both weather and the professional qualities of a ship’s captain.  This appeal to Rome was his right as a Roman citizen and God had told him that he would testify in Rome and to have courage. Such words would be necessary for him to cling to, for he was about to be dragged into a very foolish journey by those who simply wouldn’t see the danger despite warning after warning. If perhaps this sounds familiar, it is of course our human condition: that many act foolishly and recklessly and refuse to see the danger. It is also an unfortunate characteristic of our Western culture, that has steered into a great oncoming storm and refuses to see the danger.

B. Warnings – ⁴ And putting to sea from there we sailed under the lee of Cyprus, because the winds were against us. ⁵ And when we had sailed across the sea which is off Cilicia and Pamphylia, we came to Myra in Lycia. ⁶ There the centurion found a ship of Alexandria sailing for Italy, and put us on board.

So here are the initial signals of danger: the wind against them, a poor time of year to sail, chancy conditions at best. It was common in the winter months to stay off the Mediterranean and remain at port and to make longer journeys by land. The sea was very dangerous at this time of year and whatever sailing did take place was done very near the coast. But despite the danger signals, there seems little alarm by the centurion, who seems determined to get the task done.

C. Worsening – ⁷ We sailed slowly for a number of days, and arrived with difficulty off Cnidus, and as the wind did not allow us to go on, we sailed under the lee of Crete off Salmone. ⁸ Coasting along it with difficulty, we came to a place called Fair Havens, near which was the city of Lasea. 

More danger signals! But now the centurion’s determination becomes defiance. And here, too, is a portrait of many a sinner who sees the danger signals, the wind against him, the journey fraught with difficulties, but decides that he will not be just another statistic; he will escape the usual dangers. Cultures think this way too. Defiance is the sad result of hearts that are growing hard and wills that are growing stubborn. With necks of iron and foreheads of brass, sinners sally forth and cultures set out on campaigns of self destruction.

II. The Continued Defiance – In the verses that follow, we have quite a list of the elements of a poor and rash decision. Let’s see what Scripture teaches us about the diagnosis of a a bad decision. Together, these elements contribute to a foolish defiance and a failure to heed the warnings already given.  There are five elements listed:

A. Precipitousness – As much time had been lost, and the voyage was already dangerous because the fast had already gone by

In other words, they are at a critical time, when the window for safe sailing, if it even still exists, is closing fast. It’s now or never! But hasty decisions—made more out of concern for time than what is wise or right—are usually poor ones. And in our culture we have a lot of this. Urgency seems to permeate most things. News crews love to create a sense of crisis and urgency. Suddenly everyone has opinions on what must be done, and quickly. Sob stories and other emblematic but highly selective crisis situations are put before us by the media and politically savvy organizations.  Swift and draconian decisions are often demanded. Sometimes unhappy mobs are protesting and legislators make hasty fixes to what are complex problems. Careful deliberation is underappreciated. There is a failure to recognize that rushing often leads to the development of poor “solutions.” But in our culture, most people follow the priority of the urgent more so than the priority of the important.

B. Preferring worldly wisdom – Paul advised them, ¹⁰ saying, “Sirs, I perceive that the voyage will be with injury and much loss, not only of the cargo and the ship, but also of our lives.” ¹¹ But the centurion paid more attention to the captain and to the owner of the ship than to what Paul said.

Yes, what does this religious zealot know about sailing or weather? Never mind that Paul had sailed before and had known rough seas and shipwreck. What does this preacher have to offer? The captain and the owner of the ship are the experts. Yes, today many say that the Church has nothing to offer; neither can priests speak to marriage or family life or sexuality. Only scientists, doctors, and other professionals can really be relied upon to have anything worthy to offer. To be sure, all these experts have much to offer, but it is dangerous to rely on them alone to set a course for this world. Worldly wisdom can still, at best, procure for us a worldly grave. But true wisdom pierces the heavens and seeks the voice of God, who alone can save us. To disregard the voice of faith is perilous indeed.

C. Passions Preferred – ¹² And because the harbor was not suitable to winter in

Now here is a serious issue as well. Too often we allow our passions to trump our better judgment. They want to risk the storm to get to a “nicer” port. They want to spend the winter in comfort and so they take foolish risks. Here, too, in an age dominated by an excessive need for comfort, many are willing to take terrible risks, make foolish decisions, go into debt, risk disease, and even act illegally. Some are willing to steal, use drugs, enter dangerous relationships, and the like. All for the hope of the comfort that such things might—just might—provide. Yes, our passions, individually and collectively, inspire a lot of bad decisions and lock us in defiant attitudes that refuse to recognize the obvious.

D. Populism – the majority advised to put to sea from there, on the chance that somehow they could reach Phoenix, a harbor of Crete, looking northeast and southeast, and winter there. 

Yet another common problem is thinking that a poll will always render the right decision. No, it will not. It will tell you what is popular, but not often what is right. Very often the crowds are wrong and they are not pooling their wisdom; they are pooling their ignorance. Jesus warns, “Woe to you when all speak well of you. For thus their fathers treated the false prophets.” Today there is almost a religious demand that polls should direct all things. Many are almost indignant that the Catholic Church’s teachings do not reflect the views of the “majority” of Roman Catholics. But the Church does not exist to reflect the views of her members. The Church exists to reflect the views of her head and founder, Jesus Christ. At the end of the day, what is popular is not always right, and what is right is not always popular. Polls and votes are usually poor ways to discover what is right. And as we shall see, it is certainly a poor way to predict the weather!

E. Presumption – ¹³ And when the south wind blew gently, supposing that they had obtained their purpose, they weighed anchor and sailed along Crete, close inshore.

Very often, because there are not immediate negative consequences to a bad choice, people leap to the conclusion that they have decided well. Note that in this instance, despite repeated warnings (from St. Paul) and the difficulties of sailing at a bad time of year (e.g., contrary winds and little progress possible), one mere breeze from the south is magnified and causes them to presume that there will be no consequences. Presumption is a sin against hope. Hope is a confident expectation of God’s help in attaining eternal life. But as the word presumption implies, to presume is take something up ahead of time (Pre– before + sumere– to take up). But who hopes for what he already has? Hence presumption tosses hope away on the pretext that one can get what one wants now, on one’s own terms. Those guilty of presumption think that no harm will ever befall them. The speeding teenager thinks he will never crash, but some of them wake up paralyzed. The drunk driver thinks he will never be caught, but then sees the red flashing lights in his rearview mirror. The sexually promiscuous person boasts of having “safe-sex,” but then contracts an STD. As we shall see, just because consequences do not always happen immediately, doesn’t mean that presumption is a good idea.

III. The Cost of Disobedience – Sin and disobedience are very costly. Satan promises ease, comfort, and pleasure today, but the bill comes due tomorrow! Let’s see what this storm teaches about the cost of sin. Five descriptions of the cost are given:

A. Control Lost – ¹⁴ But soon a tempestuous wind, called the northeaster, struck down from the land; ¹⁵ and when the ship was caught and could not face the wind, we gave way to it and were driven.

St. Augustine famously taught regarding sin, For out of the perverse will came lust, and the service of lust ended in habit, and habit, not resisted, became necessity (Conf 8.5). Habitual sin leads to bondage, to a loss of control, to being driven. The first cost of sin and disobedience is the increasing loss of control, the increasing loss of freedom.

B. Crushing Labors – ¹⁶ And running under the lee of a small island called Cauda, we managed with difficulty to secure the boat; ¹⁷ they took measures to pass ropes under the ship to hold it together; then, fearing that they should run on the Syrtis (sands of North Africa), they lowered the anchor, but were still driven.

We see that their defiant pride has now humbled them with heavy work, not just the work of sailing, but of even holding the boat together. Sin leads to heavy burdens. Consider the man who has been promiscuous and now sees his income dissipated by child support to children he has fathered by three different women. Consider the glutton who has easily gained 100 pounds and must now work for months, even years, to lose the weight. Consider the spendthrift who has run up the debt on his credit card and must now work for years to pay it off. Sin makes for crushing, burdensome work.

C. Compounding Losses – ¹⁸ As we were violently storm-tossed, they began next day to throw the cargo overboard; ¹⁹ and the third day they cast out with their own hands the tackle of the ship.

As already stated, sin and disobedience inevitably lead to dissipation. So now they are throwing their precious cargo overboard. Suddenly the riches of the world are not enough; they’re now even part of the problem! Perhaps with us it is our money that is dissipated, or maybe our strength, or health, or family. But when you stay in sin and disobedience, expect the losses to compound.

D. Ceding Lights – ²⁰ And when neither sun nor stars appeared for many a day, and no small tempest lay on us, all hope of our being saved was at last abandoned. … And fearing that we might run on the rocks, they let out four anchors from the stern, and prayed for day to come.

The ancients steered by the stars and the sun. But this self-inflicted storm has darkened the lights. All the navigation points are lost, and the way back (out of sin) is difficult to find. Sin clouds our intellect and makes it difficult to see our errors, let alone the way back. Many people are in such darkness that they actually celebrate what God calls sin. How do some of us get so blind and confused? Some have lost their way and the light of their intellect has been clouded. Yet another cost of sin and disobedience is a darkened intellect. St. Paul says, they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish minds were darkened (Romans 1:21).

E. Cowardly Leaping –  ³⁰ And as the sailors were seeking to escape from the ship, and had lowered the boat into the sea, under pretense of laying out anchors from the bow, ³¹ Paul said to the centurion and the soldiers, “Unless these men stay in the ship, you cannot be saved.”

So much for all the expert sailors, the captain, and the centurion, all of whom ignored Paul and the obvious warnings of a coming storm! Now they are seeking to jump ship, to escape in lifeboats and leave the passengers behind. And so it is with many sinners today, who seek to escape the consequences of their acts. Some escape to drugs and alcohol; some just hide or blame others. Rarer indeed are the sinners who admit their fault and take responsibility for what they have chosen and done. In a therapeutic culture it is easier to blame others: “It’s not my fault; my mother dropped me on my head when I was two. … I’m not depraved; I’m deprived.” A lot of this amounts to escaping in lifeboats and leaving the rest back on the boat to pay the bills and experience the disaster. And where are the “experts” who gave us such awful advice during the sexual and cultural revolution? Most of them headed for the boats and left the rest of us (who were foolish enough to listen to them) back on the boat to go down with the ship.

The cost of sin and disobedience is high.

This storm really has a lot to teach us. It shows how easily we ignore the coming danger and continue, in defiance, to make bad decisions. And then it counts the costs of our foolishness. Life really is a lot easier when we obey God.

But the storm is not done teaching us yet. For God has put a teacher in the storm to instruct us and call us to discipleship. More on what Paul teaches tomorrow …

There are so many wonderful details in the Epiphany story: the call of the Gentiles, their enthusiastic response, the significance of the star they seek, the gifts they bring, the dramatic interaction with Herod, and their ultimate rejection of him in favor of Christ.

In this meditation I would like to follow these Magi in their journey of faith to become Wise Men. As Magi, they followed the faint stars, distant points of light; as Wise Men they follow Jesus, who is the ever glorious Light from Light, true God from true God.

We can observe how they journey in stages from the light of a star to the bright and glorious Light of Jesus Christ. And, of course, to authentically encounter the Lord is to experience conversion. All the elements of this story ultimately serve to cause them to “return to their country by another route.” Let’s look at the stages of their journey from being mere Magi to becoming, by God’s grace, Wise Men.

Stage 1. The CALL that COMPLETES  – The text says, When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” Notice first the identity of these individuals: they are called Magi (μάγοι (magoi) in Greek) and they are from the East.

Exactly what “Magi” are is debated. Perhaps they are learned men; perhaps they are ancient astronomers. We often think of them as kings though the text does not call them that. It also seems likely that Herod would have been far more anxious had they been actual potentates from an Eastern kingdom. In our imagination, we often think of them as kings since Psalm 72, read in today’s Mass, speaks of “kings” coming from the East bearing gifts of gold and frankincense. However, for the record, the text in today’s gospel does not call them kings, but rather “magi.”

Yet here is their key identity: they are Gentiles, and they have been called. Up to this point in the Christmas story, only Jews had found their way to Bethlehem. But now the Gentiles come. This detail cannot be overlooked, for it is clear that the gospel is going out to all the world. This call completes the Church, which needs both Jews and Gentiles.

St. Paul rejoices in this fact in today’s second reading as he says, that the Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body, and co-partners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel (Eph 3:6). Since most of us are not Jewish by ancestry, we ought to rejoice; for in the call of these Magi is prefigured our call.

And notice that God calls them through something in the natural world: a star. God uses something in creation to call out to them.

We do well to wonder what is the “star” that God used to call each of us? Perhaps it was Scripture, but more typically it is someone whom God has used in order to reach us: a parent, a family member, a friend, a priest, a religious sister, or a devoted lay person. Who are the stars in your life through whom God called you?

God can also use inanimate creation, as he did for these Magi. Perhaps it was a magnificent church, or a beautiful painting, or an inspirational song that reached you. By something or someone, God calls each of us; He puts a star in our sky. These wise men, these Magi, followed the call of God and began their journey to Jesus.

Stage 2. The CONSTANCY that CONQUERS – Upon their arrival in Jerusalem, the Magi find a rather confusing and perhaps discouraging situation. The reigning king, Herod, knows nothing of the birth of this new King. It must have seemed probable to the Magi that the newborn King would be related to the current king, so Herod’s surprise may have confused them. But Herod seems more than surprised; he seems threatened and agitated.

Even more puzzling, Herod calls in religious leaders to get further information about this new King. They open the sacred writings and the Magi hear of a promised King. Ah, so the birth of this King has religious significance! How interesting!

But these religious leaders seem unenthusiastic about the newborn King, and after providing the location of His birth, seem to make no effort to follow the Magi. There is no rejoicing, no summoning of the people to tell them that a longed-for King has finally been born, not even further inquiry!

So the wicked (e.g., Herod and his court) are wakeful while the saints are sleepy. How odd this must have seemed to the Magi! Perhaps they even thought about abandoning their search. After all, the actual king knew nothing of this new King’s birth, and those people who did know about it seemed rather uninterested.

Ah, but praise the Lord they persevered in their search; they did not give up!

Thanks be to God, too, that many today have found their way to Christ despite the fact that parents, clergy, and others who should have led them to Jesus were either asleep, ignorant, or just plain lazy. I am often amazed at some of the conversion stories I have heard: people who found their way to Christ and His Church despite some pretty daunting obstacles (e.g., poor religious upbringing, scandalous clergy, and bad role models). God sometimes allows our faith and call to be tested but Those who persevere to the end will be saved (Matt 24:13).

To persevere is to open the door to wisdom, which often must be sought in spite of obstacles. This constancy is often what it takes to overcome the darkness and discouragements of the world.

Stage 3. The CONDESCENSION of CONFESSION – The text says, After their audience with the king they set out. And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them, until it came and stopped over the place where the child was. They were overjoyed at seeing the star, and on entering the house they saw the child with Mary his mother. They prostrated themselves and did him homage.

With what little information they have, the Magi set out and continue to follow the call of God through the star.

Note that they enter a “house.” We often think of the Magi as coming that same Christmas night to the cave or stable, but it seems not. Mary, (Joseph), and Jesus are found now in a house. It would seem that decent lodging has now been found. Has it been days since the birth? Perhaps it’s been even longer, but we are likely dealing with a different day than Christmas Day.

Notice too that they “prostrate” themselves before Jesus. The Greek word is προσεκύνησαν (prosekunēsan) which means more literally “to fall down in worship” or “to give adoration.” The word is used twelve times in the New Testament and it is clear each time that religious worship is the purpose of the prostration.

This is no mere act of homage or sign of respect to an earthly king; this is religious worship. This is a confession of faith. So our Magi manifest faith! The beginning of wisdom is the fear of the Lord. And these Magi are well on their way from being mere Magi to being Wise Men!

But is their faith a real faith or just a perfunctory observance? It’s not enough to answer an altar call or to get baptized. Faith is never alone; it is a transformative relationship with Jesus Christ. So let’s look for the effects of a real and saving faith.

Stage 4. The COUNTING of the COST  There is a cost to discipleship. The Magi are moved to give three symbolic gifts that show some of what true faith includes. And they are costly gifts.

Gold symbolizes all of our possessions. In laying this gift before Jesus, they and we are saying, “I acknowledge that everything I have is yours. I put all my resources and wealth under your authority and will use them only according to your will.” A conversion that has not reached the wallet is not complete.

Frankincense is a resin used in incense and symbolizes the gift of worship. In the Bible, incense is a symbol of prayer and worship (e.g., Psalm 141). In laying down this gift, we promise to pray and worship God all the days of our life, to be in His holy house each Sunday and render Him the praise and worship He is due, to listen to His word and consent to be fed the Eucharist by Him, to worship Him worthily by frequent confession, and to praise Him at all times.

Myrrh is a strange gift for an infant; it is usually understood as a burial ointment. Surely this prefigures Jesus’ death, but it also symbolizes our own. In laying this gift before Jesus we are saying, “My life is yours. I want to die so that you may live your life in me. May you increase and may I decrease. Use me and my life as you will.”

So these three gifts are highly symbolic.

The Magi manifest more than a little homage to Jesus. They are showing forth the fruits of saving faith. And if we can give these gifts, so too are we.

In their holy reverence for God is wisdom in its initial stage!

Stage 5. The CONSEQUENCE of CONVERSION – The text says, And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed for their country by another way.

Here then is essential evidence for faith: conversion. It is not enough to get “happy” in Church; we have to obey. Hence, these wise men are walking differently now. They are not going home by the same way they came. They’ve changed direction; they’ve turned around (conversio). They are now willing to walk the straight and narrow path that leads to life rather than the wide road that leads to damnation. They are going to obey Christ. They are going to exhibit what St. Paul calls the “obedience of faith” (Rom 1:5; 16:26). They have not just engaged in perfunctory worship; they are showing signs of a true and saving faith. They are not just calling Jesus, “Lord, Lord!” They are doing what He tells them (cf Luke 6:46).

No longer mere Magi, now they are Wise Men!

So there it is. Through careful stages, the Lord has brought the Gentiles (this means you and me) to conversion. He called these Magi to wisdom. They remained constant, confessed Him to be Lord, accepted the cost of discipleship, and manifested conversion. Have you? Have I?

Walk in the ways of the Wise Men! Wise men still seek Him; even wiser ones listen to and obey Him. Are we willing to go back to our country by another route? Is ongoing conversion part of our journey home to Heaven? If Epiphany means “manifestation,” then how is our faith made manifest in our deeds and conversion?

I have it on the best of authority that as the now Wise Men went home by another route, they were singing this Gospel song: “It’s a highway to heaven! None can walk up there but the pure in heart. I am walking up the King’s Highway. If you’re not walking start while I’m talking. There’ll be a blessing you’ll be possessing, walking up the King’s Highway.”

If you’re looking for a last minute gift for someone (remember, Christmas goes on till Epiphany), consider the “Septem-Seater Tricycle.” Don’t worry that it costs  $20,000; you can charge it or put it on a payment plan! Yes, it is the seven-seat tricycle in the Hammacher Schlemmer Catalog. I suspect it is one of those corporate “team-building” items. A large corporation might be able to afford the hefty cost or even just rent it for corporate “retreats.” It would sure be fun to try it out.

At any rate I was intrigued when I came across it a couple of years ago, and saw in it an image of the Church. I know that I exaggerate when I “see” these things, but it is good to reminded of the Lord and His Church in many different ways.

That it is a tricycle surely reminds us of the Trinity, the foundation on which our faith rests and rolls. Or perhaps the three wheels speak to the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus (from whose wounded side came forth His bride, the Church, and whose resurrection means she is a bride rather than a widow).  Or maybe it’s the three sacraments of initiation (Baptism, Confirmation, and Eucharist) that enable us to fully participate (or ride) in the Church. Or perhaps the three wheels are the three degrees of Holy Orders (bishop, priest, and deacon), on which the Church both rides and is steered.

The seven seats may speak to the seven sacraments, or the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, or the seven churches of Revelation. But we ought not forget that the number ‘7’ is also a number specifying perfection and fullness. And thus the seven seats speak to the “full number of the elect” that is known only to God. This is my preferred interpretation: that the seven riders represent the full Membership of the Church.

Each of the seats is adjustable. This speaks to the different gifts and needs that people bring and to the Church’s capacity to use the different gifts and adjust to the different needs, while also insisting that each person find a seat and act in a way that does not hinder her main task of making the journey to Heaven.

The seats are arranged in a circle. This indicates the equal dignity of every baptized member. In the Church, although there are different roles and there is authority, all are equal in dignity before God. The Pope has supreme authority in the Church, but he is no more baptized than anyone else. In the Church, authority is exercised among equals.

Note that all the riders hold on to a single, circular handlebar. This speaks to the fact there is one Lord, one Faith, one Baptism. Yes, we all hold to the one, true faith and to a Church that has among her four marks that she is “one.” Even the driver’s steering wheel is attached on and through the circular bar.

There is only one steering wheel. This brings to mind the Pope in the universal Church and the Bishop in the local Church. Only one person can steer. Give everyone a steering wheel and there is chaos, struggle for power; it’s an accident waiting to happen. If no one is pope, then everyone is pope; and that is very, very bad. It will be noted that the driver is the only one to steer, but he is able to get feedback, advice, and encouragement from the other riders. And thus though his leadership is collaborative, it is ultimately a single leadership. Every body needs a head. A body with two heads is a freak, and a body with no head is dead. Every body, including the Church, needs a head. Thus this image of the church has one steering wheel. And for those who say that the head is a book (the Bible) not a pope, I say that books can’t see to steer; it takes a real person to see, to be inspired, and thus to steer.

Every seat including the driver’s has pedals. This means that everyone must do his part.  If one member suffers or lapses, all the members will suffer; if one member has an energy burst and can pedal gloriously, all the members are glorified. If one member is struggling, there are six others to compensate. But all must reasonably do their part, play their role, and contribute to the journey of the Church to glory. If too many are allowed to stray, or to pedal backwards, or to drag their feet, then the forward progress gets difficult and other members suffer. Thus the Church must correct and insist that all do their part.

Every seat must be filled or the work gets harder for those who remain. It may eventually stop or even go backwards if too many seats are unoccupied. And thus evangelization is crucial to keeping the seats filled and the work of the Lord’s Church moving forward. Further, empty seats mean that some are being left behind; this should be considered unacceptable for the Church, whose mission it is to make sure that the full number of the elect find their way home. Every empty seat is a disgrace, a failure of mission, and it makes the work even harder.

Well, more can be said. Feel free to add your own commentary on this seven-seat tricycle. Here’s a video that shows the trike in action. The video is funny, too, since it is kind of a spoof of 1950s TV ads, complete with silly elevator music and a lot of phony waves and staged enthusiasm. Someday I would love to get the chance to ride one of these tricycles. You may notice that some of the scenes in the video depart from proper ecclesiology. See if you can find the errors in the video!