Author: Msgr. Charles Pope

One of the more misunderstood debates between believers and atheists is whether or not an atheist can have a morality. Some incorrectly understand believers to think that atheists are immoral or live lives that are sinful by our account. But this is not what is meant by wondering whether an atheist can have a morality.

It will be stipulated that many atheists and agnostics can and do live morally upright lives. For example, many among them get married, stay married, do not beat their wives, pay taxes, and may volunteer at soup kitchens and give to charities. Surely there is manifested in many atheists a natural virtue. It will also be stipulated that some who call themselves believers in God do not always live morally upright lives. And in both categories there is everything in between.

So the question about whether atheists can have a morality does not center around whether some or any of them can live good lives. Rather, the question centers around the basis of their assessment of what is moral, good, upright, just, etc. On what basis do they ascribe such judgments to certain acts? On what basis do they ascribe other assessments such as “wrong,” “unjust,” “bad,” and so forth?

For a believer in God, the usual answer regarding the basis of our judgments of certain acts is fairly straightforward. Christians make use of the biblical text wherein we believe God has set forth (among other things) a moral vision. He commands certain actions and forbids others. He praises certain attitudes and discourages others. Many believers (especially Catholics) also refer to what is called “natural law.” Natural law refers to the Book of Creation and to our capacity to use our intellect and reason to discern basic moral truths set forth by God based on what He has created and the intrinsic meaning He has given to His creation.

These are the basics sources of morality and the moral vision for the believer. But what are the sources of morality for those who both reject God’s existence and also deny that the created order manifest the intentions of the designer? Recall that atheistic materialists insist that creation occurred via a series of blind forces and random mutations with no intrinsic meaning whatsoever. For them there is no reality to go out and meet and then obey. Rather, for the atheist/materialist, reality is just “dumbly” there; it has nothing to say to us, per se. “Meaning” for them is merely something we ascribe, but which is not intrinsically there or discoverable. Everything is simply the result of random mutations manifesting no design, no law, no designer, no intelligence—no creator whatsoever.

Thus for them, there is nothing and no one extrinsic to whom all look for reference. Neither is there any intrinsic meaning in the material world, which according to the tenets of atheistic materialism has evolved in an absolutely blind process of random mutation. And who is to say what mutations might come next?

Thus, the question asked by believers is not whether atheists live moral lives by our standards, but rather what are their possible standards for declaring that they live moral or immoral lives?

Every now and again we hear vague attempts by atheists and secularists to answer such a question. We hear things such as “Be nice,” Don’t do evil,” and sometimes references to the “golden rule.” But how can there be rules in the random mutation world of the atheist?  Is not everything for them just the blind lurches of random mutation? And further, what does it really mean to “be nice?” And even more deeply for them, who is to say what is evil or what is good?

As a faithful Catholic I hold that homosexual acts are wrong, unnatural, and sinful. Now suppose an atheist hears me say this and gets angry. On what does he base his anger toward me? If I am just a bag of chemicals interacting to produce a certain behavioral result, then why hold me responsible for what I think or say? Why call me names like “homophobe” or “bigot?” Why is there any indignity at all toward what I think? I am only doing what my brain chemistry randomly causes.

Further, if I believe in God, why get indignant or angry over that? After all, I am just a bag of chemicals producing a random result. In such a materialistic system, I am no more responsible for what I think or do than is a rock for falling from a cliff and hurting you.

But clearly atheists DO get upset with the behavior of others. But why? On what basis?

Perhaps, as some atheists and materialists posit, one is to look to the general norms of a culture for right and wrong. But as we all know, there have been some strange and ugly notions that have sometimes set up in the general thinking of the wider culture. Any look at human culture and we can see that genocide happens, so too slavery, concentration camps, holocausts, racial discrimination, Jim Crow laws, the eugenics movement, and so forth. Cultural norms of various times supported and even celebrated many such notions. Thus the wider or general culture seems to be a poor indicator of right and wrong because it changes and because it has suggested things that are pretty ugly and immoral.

Again we are left with trying to find some place that those who deny the existence of God go to find their moral norms.

For an atheist, who is to say that what one person calls “evil,” someone else will not call “survival of the fittest”? Maybe someone would hold that stronger nations should destroy weaker ones so that only the strong survive, systems are more efficient, and ultimately a nation of “supermen” emerges. Perhaps some would say that the weak and innocent should be killed, eradicated, wiped out, since the strong will usher in a better world, a superior race, etc.

I say that such things are evil, but I root my reasoning in what God has revealed, and what natural law indicates is necessary for civilization. But atheists have no such system to which they can refer. And this is why some wonder if an atheist can be moral. Who is to say? Perhaps they can be accidentally so, be accidentally in conformity with Judeo-Christian principles. But it would seem to be accidental, since there no real basis for them to say what is right or wrong without reference to God, or at least to the natural law set forth by God.

In the declining West, we have been engaged in a dangerous experiment as to whether there can be a “culture” without a shared cultus. Despite the bad connotations in English, “cult” is merely a word that refers to a common worship or belief. For culture to exist, there must be something bigger and higher to which all in the culture look and agree. It is this shared cultus that makes a culture. Without the shared focus and basis, a culture ceases to exist. As the modern age increasingly demonstrates, without a shared cultus a culture becomes instead a sort of “anti-culture.”

In America, while there have always been many sectarian divisions, there was once a basic and shared cultus wherein belief in God and His moral vision, as revealed in Scripture, was widely shared—at least in terms of basic morality and the vision for the human person, family, and community. Now this is gone and what is left of our old culture, rooted in the Judeo-Christian cultus, is quickly declining. The evidence is increasingly clear that a culture cannot exist without a shared cultus.

Hence a believer rightly questions an atheist as to the basis of the moral vision he claims to have. Some of the most pertinent questions must be these:

1. On what do you base your notions of right or wrong?
2. How are your notions better than mine or your neighbor’s?
3. Are not the very words “morality,” “right,” and “wrong” judgments? If so, what is the standard you use to make these judgments?
4. If I am just a series of chemical reactions, doing and saying what matter randomly “causes” in me, by what norm do you hold me responsible for anything I do or say?
5. And if I am not responsible for what I do, why are you angry with me when I do things you don’t like?
6. Whence your anger? And why don’t you like it? Is it not some sense in you that justice or what is right is being violated?
7. But where do these notions come from and why are your notions better than mine?
8. Again, if I may: on what do you base you notions of right and wrong?
9. Can you, an atheist, be moral? How? Says who? Where are your norms to be found if there be no God, no natural law, and if creation is without a designer and is simply a mindless succession of random mutations?

The Readings for today’s Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross provide a rich teaching on the Cross. Let’s look at five themes, each in turn.

I. The Pattern of the Cross – One of the stranger passages in the Old Testament is one describing a command Moses received from God to mount a bronze snake on a pole.

The people had grumbled against God and Moses for the “wretched” manna they had to consume (Numbers 21:5). They were sick of its bland quality even though it was the miracle food, the bread from Heaven that had sustained them in the desert. (Pay attention, Catholics who treat the Eucharist lightly or find it boring!) God grew angry and sent venomous snakes among them, which caused many to die (Nm 21:6). The people then repented and, in order to bring healing to them, God commanded a strange and remarkable thing: Make a snake and put it up on a pole; anyone who is bitten can look at it and live (Nm 21:8).

No Graven Images?? Now remember, it was God who had said earlier in the Ten Commandments, Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth(Ex 20:4). Yet here He commands a graven (carved) image be made.

Why does God do this? That is covered in the next point.

II. The Palliative Quality of the Cross – And yet when Moses made it of bronze and showed it to the people, those who looked at it became well (Nm 21:9).

In a way it is almost as if God were saying to Moses, “The people, in rejecting the Bread from Heaven have chosen Satan and what he offers. They have rejected me. Let them look into the depth of their sin and face their choice and the fears it has set loose. Let them look upon a serpent. Having looked, let them repent and be healed; let the fear of what the serpent can do depart.”

 Jesus takes up the theme in today’s Gospel and fulfills it when He says, And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life (John 3:14). It is almost as if to say, “Let the people face their sin and see the ugly reality that it is and what it does to me, to them, and to others. Let them face their choice and seek healing repentance. Let them also see the outstretched arms of God’s mercy and find peace.”

There is something about facing our sins, our shortcomings, our anxieties, and our fears. There is something about looking them in the face in order to find healing.  One of the glories of the Catholic faith is that it has never hidden the Cross. We have never run from it. There have been brief times when, shamefully, we de-emphasized it. But throughout most of our history, the crucifix has been prominently, proudly, and fearlessly displayed in our churches. We cling to it and glory in it.

Do you know how shocking this is? Imagine that you were to walk into a church and instead of seeing a crucifix you saw Jesus dangling from a gallows, a rope around His neck. Crucifixion was the form of execution reserved for the worst of criminals. It was shocking, horrifying, and emblematic of the worse kind of suffering. When the Romans saw or thought of something awful they would cry out in Latin, “Ex cruce!” (From the cross!) for they could think of nothing more horrible to compare it to. And this is the origin of the English word “excruciating.”  Crucifixion is brutal—an awful, slow, ignoble, and humiliating death: ex cruce!

 But there it is, front and center in  just about every Catholic Church. There it is, at the head of our processions. There it is, displayed in our homes. And we are bid to look upon it daily. Displayed there is everything we most fear: suffering, torment, loss, humiliation, nakedness, hatred, scorn, mockery, ridicule, rejection, and death. And the Lord and the Church say, “Look! Don’t turn away. Do not hide this. Look! Behold!” Face the crucifix and all it means. Stare into the face of your worst fears; confront them and begin to experience healing. Do not fear the worst that the world and the devil can do, for Christ has triumphed overwhelmingly. He has cast off death like a garment  and said to us, In this world ye shall have tribulation. But have courage! I have overcome the world (Jn 16:33).

III. The Paradox of the Cross – A paradox refers to something that is contrary to the common way of thinking, something that surprises or even perturbs us by its reversal of the usual standards. In a world dominated by power and its aggressive use, the humility and powerlessness of the Cross accomplishing anything but defeat both surprises and upsets the normal worldly order.

At the heart of today’s second reading is the declaration that Christ humbled Himself and became obedient unto death—death on the Cross. But far from ending His work, it exalted Him and brought Him victory. To the world this is absurdity, but to us who are being saved it is the wisdom and power of God. Consider that darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hatred cannot drive out hatred; only love can do that. And pride cannot drive out pride; only humility can do that. At the heart of Original Sin and every personal sin is the prideful notion that we know better than God. Satan’s fundamental flaw is his colossal pride; he considers himself equal to God. He is narcissistic, egotistical, and prideful.

But the solution to conquering pride is not to have greater pride, but rather to manifest great humility, as Jesus did. And while Satan disobeyed God, Jesus humbly obeyed His Father. He did not cling to His divine prerogatives, but rather laid them aside, taking up the form of a slave and being seen as a mere human being. It was thus that He humbled Himself and obeyed even unto the Cross. Jesus was seen as the lowest of human beings, accepting a death reserved for the worst of criminals and sinners though He himself was sinless and divine.

So astonishing is Jesus’ humility, that it literally undoes Satan’s pride and all of our collective pride. It is the great paradox of the Cross that humility conquers pride, that God’s “weakness” conquers human power and aggression, that love conquers hate, and that light dispels the darkness.

It is the great paradox of the Cross that makes a public spectacle of every human and worldly presumption.

IV. The Power of the Cross – The gospel today announces the great power of the cross: So must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life. Thus Jesus, the Son of Man, when He was lifted up from the earth called to the heart of every human person. And those who believe in him and look to him are saved from their sins and snatched from the hands of the devil. The power of the Cross is the power to save.

And not only are we saved from the effects of our sins, we are empowered to live a whole new life.  For the text says that God does this that we might not perish, but that we might have eternal life. The word eternal does not refer simply to the length of life, but also to its fullness. And therefore, by the power of the Cross, we are given the gift to live a completely new life, transformed increasingly into the very holiness, freedom, joy, and blessedness of the very life of Christ. In dying with Him in baptism to this old life, we rise to the new life that He offers: a life increasingly set free from sin, a life transformed from vice to virtue, from sorrow to joy, from despair to hope, and from futility to meaningfulness and victory. Thus the power of the Cross is manifest as the power of the tree of life.

V. The Passion of the Cross – And why all this? Why this undeserved gift? In a word, love. “For God so loved the world…” Yes, God loves the world. Despite our rebellion, our unbelief, our scoffing, and our murderous hatred, God goes on loving us. He sent His Son to manifest His love and to obey Him within the capacity of His humanity. Cassian says that we are saved by the human decision of a divine person. Jesus loved His Father too much, and loves us too much to ever say no to Him. And the Father loves us too much to have ever withheld the gift of His Son from us, though Jesus is His only begotten Son, the greatest gift He could ever offer. And in His love, He does not withhold this gift, but offers Him.

Why do you exist? Why is there anything at all? How are you saved? God so loved the world. God so loved you. God is love. And God, who loves us, proclaims the truth to us and invites us to except His truth. He does not force His love upon us, but invites us and gives us every grace to turn and to come to Him. But why does He care? Why does He not simply force us to obey? God is love and love invites; it does not force. Love respects the will of the beloved and seeks only the free response of love in return.

The Cross—nothing is more provocative; nothing is more paradoxical; nothing is greater proof of God’s love for us and of His desire to do whatever it takes to procure our yes to His truth, His way, and His love. Run to the Cross and meet the Lord, who loves you more than you deserve and more than you can imagine. Run to Him now, because He loves you.

There’s an old saying, “Falling doesn’t make you a failure, staying down does.” For indeed we all fall, but a saint is just a sinner who fell and got back up again.

Part of the battle is also the speed with which we recover. For the longer we stay down and ruminate, the deeper our wounds. Getting back up quickly is a great grace.

That lesson is beautifully illustrated in the video below. The picture is a bit fuzzy and the edits could have been better, but you won’t miss the point.

If you fall, fall on Jesus. And reach quickly for His hand to help you up.

Do you not know that the runners in the stadium all run in the race, but only one wins the prize? Run so as to win (1 Cor 9:22).

Back in my seminary days my liturgy teacher, Fr. Quinn, often reminded us that we prayed many of the psalms more in hope than as true claims about ourselves. For indeed many of the psalms make almost boastful claims:

• LORD, my heart is not proud;  nor are my eyes haughty (Psalm 131:1).
• They have almost made an end of me on earth; but I have not forsaken thy precepts (Psalm 119:88).
• The deceitful and bloodthirsty man the Lord detests. But I through the greatness of your love have access to your house. I bow down before your holy temple, filled with awe (Psalm 5).
• Many are my persecutors and my adversaries, but I do not swerve from thy testimonies. I look at the faithless with disgust, because they do not keep thy commands. Consider how I love thy precepts! (Psalm 119:157-159)

Yes, such psalms are not full realities for us now, but we pray in hope they one day will be. Fr. Quinn also reminded us that they are also psalms that we, as members of the Body of Christ, pray with Christ and in Him they are true and fulfilled. But for us, they are not yet.

I think the same thing must be true for some of the hymns we sing. In my parish, we occasionally sing a hymn that says, “I surrender all, all to Jesus I surrender, I surrender all.” Sometimes I wink at the end of the song and say, “liars!” And we all laugh because we know we barely surrender half. But one day the Lord will get us there!

Another hymn came  to mind today that also challenges me more than it describes me. And as it challenges me, I think it also challenges the Church. Although it is a Protestant hymn, we have sung it a lot in the parishes (mostly African-American) in which I have served. The hymn says, “There’s nothing between my soul and the Savior.” And each time we sing it I wonder if I can really say that. The answer comes back clearly enough: there are lots of things, too many things between my soul and the Savior.

So here is another song I sing more in hope than in reality. I sing of my goal and, I pray, of my end. “One day it will fully be so, but not now, not yet,” I say in shame and humility. Ponder with me the lines of this old hymn and use it as a kind of examen. After each verse in bold black italics please pardon my commentary in plain red text. The hymn is by Charles Albert Tindley (1851-1933)

Nothing between my soul and the Savior,
Naught of this world’s delusive dream;
I have renounced all sinful pleasure;
Jesus is mine, there’s nothing between.

Is there really nothing between? Frankly for many of us there is a lot in between: politics, career, personal preferences, worldly priorities, the football game … you name it. And of this world’s delusive dreams, we often seem quite willing to buy in to the lies and false promises. We almost seem to WANT to be lied to and to have false promises made to us. Maybe it suits our fantasies and dreams. Maybe we want it all to be true somehow. Maybe it is because the world’s pleasures come quickly and we think we can ultimately ignore the bill (we cannot). The final line of this verse, however, may betray the real problem for many. It says, “Jesus is mine.” And while it is the last line, it is also the true premise of the whole verse. For only if I really experience Jesus as my Savior can my divided heart become clear. Only the deepest gratitude for His saving work and thirst for God’s face can wrench my poor heart from this world’s false promises.

Nothing between my soul and the Savior,
So that His blessed face may be seen;
Nothing preventing the least of His favor,
Keep the way clear! Let nothing between.

Here again, we easily permit many things to get between us and seeing the Lord’s blessed face. The fog of this world obscures our sight and darkens our mind. Too many would prefer to see anything but His face. Our preferences include sporting events, movies, pornography, and almost any foolish diversion. Even lawful pleasures, out of moderation, can enslave, blind, and hinder us. The hymn admonishes: keep the way clear! And this is good advice. It may not be possible to eliminate everything all at once. But what one thing is the Lord giving you the grace to set aside or to see less of, what one thing?

Nothing between, like worldly pleasure;
Habits of life, though harmless they seem,
Must not my heart from Him e’er sever;
He is my all, there’s nothing between.

Yes, it is critical to identify habits by name and to bring them to the Lord. Ask the Lord to break their power, for habits have a great hold on us. Seasons like Lent and Advent are great times to break off in new directions. Perhaps you could watch less TV, indulge in mindless diversion less frequently, or end the “nightcap” (or limit it to weekends). Maybe these things are not wrong in themselves, but they are too much and they get in the way. As before, the last line sets the premise: as the Lord becomes my “all” there is less need for “fillers.”

Nothing between, like pride or station;
Self-life or friends shall not intervene;
Though it may cost me much tribulation,
I am resolved; there’s nothing between.

Almost no one today even considers that the Lord may actually ask him or her to endure tribulation or to take up a Cross. In our hedonistic culture even Christians cry out, “Doesn’t God want me to be happy?” But in saying that, of course, most are referring to the happiness of this world. The happiness that God offers is tied to holiness and, paradoxically, it comes from losing our life to this world in order to gain what is far greater from the world that is to come. We need to be willing to forsake friends who tempt or mislead us.  We may even experience the hatred of this world in order for there to be nothing between our soul and the Savior. Scripture says,  Adulterers! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God (James 4:4-5).  If the world is between you and God then there is also enmity between you and God. The last verse says, “I am resolved.” To resolve means to once again let go or release something (re– (again) + solvere (loosen)). Ask the Lord to help you let go again and again of whatever hinders you, whatever is between your soul and the Savior! 

Nothing between, e’en many hard trials,
Though the whole world against me convene;
Watching with prayer and much self-denial,
I’ll triumph at last, with nothing between.

Our journey to there being “nothing between” is assisted first of all by trials, because they remind us that this world is filled with cruel disappointments. But trials can also hinder us if we allow ourselves to grow bitter and to blame God because the world is no longer paradise. Never mind that it is we who have made it so; we easily grow angry at God. And thus we must ask to be free of bitter disappointment and permit our trials to remind us  that this world’s joys are passing; they cannot last. Further, if we seek to remove anything “between,” rest assured (as the song says) that the world will direct hatred toward us and turn up the temptation level. Only prayer and self- discipline, by God’s grace, can save us from giving in to temptation and returning to the foolish grip of this world.  In the end, the world can only give us a grave. But for those who triumph in Christ, death leads us to that victorious place where there is nothing between our souls and the Savior, nothing between!

Amen! Pray, too, for the Church, that there will be nothing between our soul and the Savior—not compromise, not fear, not flattery, not politics, not political correctness, not silence. May the Church and Christ be always one and let no worldly concerns or strategies hinder us.

We usually think of distractions or interruptions as coming form the world around us. But is that really the most common source? Consider the following parable drawn from the stories of the early Desert Fathers and from monastic experience:

Sometimes there would be a rush of noisy visitors and the silence of the monastery would be shattered.

This would upset the disciples; not the Master, who seemed just as content with the noise as with the silence.

To his protesting disciples he said one day, “Silence is not the absence of sound, but the absence of self.”

The fact is, our greatest distraction is usually our very self. And if this surprises us, we should probably chalk that surprise up to pride. Why? Because what God most often wants us to see and focus on is outside and above us: the beauty of creation, the wonder of others, the magnificence of God. These are not distractions; they are often exactly what God is saying to us, what He is revealing to us. We are called to a kind of ecstasy in which we look out and up.

St. Augustine described one of our essential problems as being curvatus in se (turned in on himself). And in so turning inward, a whole host of distractions assail us and we begin to think and say,

1. I’m bored.
2. I’m tired.
3. What will I do next?
4. What do people think of me?
5. Do I fit in?
6. Am I handsome/pretty enough?
7. Have I made it?
8. What does this or that have to do with me?
9. What have you done for me lately?
10. When will it be my turn?
11. What about me?
12. Why are people upsetting me? What gives them the right?

Yes, distractions like these and a thousand variations on them swim through our mind as we are turned inward. Most of them are rooted in pride and its ugly cousin, vanity.

But as the parable above teaches, it is the absence of self that brings truer focus and serenity. Indeed, I am a witness of this, for my freest, most joyful, and most focused moments have come when I was most forgetful of myself.

• Perhaps it was simply watching a movie that gripped my attention and drew me outside of myself and into the plot and the lives of the characters, even if they were only fictional.
• Perhaps it was being powerfully aware of the presence of others and listening carefully to what they said.
• Perhaps it was just being in the company of close friends where I was less concerned with seeking approval and could just relax in the moment and enjoy whatever was happening.
• Perhaps it was in those moments of deep appreciation of the natural world where I walked through a field and was captured by “the color purple” and was deeply moved by the beauty of God’s creation. (Some philosophers call this “aesthetic arrest.”)
• And surely there have been those moments of deep and contemplative prayer when, by a gift of God, I forgot about myself and was drawn deeply into the experience of God.

In moments like these, God takes us (who are so easily turned inward) and turns us outward and upward. The thousands of distractions that come from self-preoccupation are hushed for a time and we, being self-forgetful, are almost wholly present to others, to creation, and to God. The noisy din of anxious self-concern quiets and our world opens up and out.

The Psalms often speak of God placing us in a spacious place (e.g., 18:19; 31:8; 119:45; inter al): You have set my feet in a spacious place, O Lord (Ps 31:8). There is nothing more tiny and cramped than being turned in on ourselves.

Ask the Lord to set your feet in the wide spaces, to open you outward and upward. For the worst distractions are not the noises outside us, but rather the noises within us, noises that come from being too preoccupied with ourselves. The silence which we most crave is not really found in the absence of sound, but in the absence of self-preoccupation.

Those who would preach or lead in the Church must have great courage, for though we preach a gospel that contains consoling messages, it also contains much that is contrary to the directions and desires of popular culture and human sinfulness. And thus it is true that every preacher who would preach the gospel of a crucified (and risen) Messiah must have courage. And this applies not only to clergy, but also to parents, catechists, and all who are leaders in the Church, family, and community.

And if we must have courage it also follows that we must be encouraged. To be encouraged means to be summoned to courage by affirmation, good example, and when necessary, by rebuke and warning.

In the Office of Readings of the Liturgy of the Hours for today, there was a magnificent example of exhortation and the summons to courage by St. Bernard of Clairvaux. I would like to present his words here and then add a few of my own [in red]. Please recall that while his words were directed to his fellow priests and brothers, who had the task of preaching and teaching, they can just as easily be applied to parents and all who lead in the Church and in the community.

We read in the gospel that when the Lord was teaching his disciples and urged them to share in his passion by the mystery of eating his body, some said: This is a hard saying, and from that time they no longer followed him. When he asked the disciples whether they also wished to go away, they replied: Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. I assure you, my brothers, that even to this day it is clear to some that the words which Jesus speaks are spirit and life, and for this reason they follow him. To others these words seem hard, and so they look elsewhere for some pathetic consolation. And thus every preacher, teacher, and parent must recall that the message is not necessarily rejected because it is wrong or because we are being too insistent on what is hard. It is often rejected on account of worldliness and a refusal to consider the life that such words bring, a refusal to yield to them in the Holy Spirit, who prompts us to embrace the proclaimed truth even if it is hard to understand or live at first.

Yet wisdom cries out in the streets, in the broad and spacious way that leads to death, to call back those who take this path. And thus we who would preach must persevere and have an urgency that realizes that many are walking straight toward Hell. Because we love them, we will risk their wrath, even their revenge, and not hesitate to call them back lest they perish.

Finally, he says, For forty years I have been close to this generation, and I said: They have always been faint-hearted.  Dead bodies float downstream. It takes a live body to resist the current, to run and not be weary, to be strong and not give way. Too many who preach, teach, and lead are weak, are faint-hearted. They must be strong and persevere despite opposition, setbacks, misunderstandings, and trials. And even if we err and are too harsh, or are too weak, or stumble on the way, we cannot allow this to hinder our godly course to proclaim the gospel with strong hearts, not faint ones. Every day we must claim new strength.

You also read in another psalm: God has spoken once. Once, indeed, because for ever. His is a single, uninterrupted utterance, because it is continuous and unending. Indeed, the Word of God does not change. Neither can our doctrines or our adherence to what God has said once and for all.

He calls upon sinners to return to their true spirit and rebukes them when their hearts have gone astray, for it is in the true heart that he dwells and there he speaks, fulfilling what he taught through the prophet: Speak to the heart of Jerusalem. And so must we speak, calling those who have strayed to return to their right minds and to the truth of the gospel. We must speak to their hearts, appeal to their consciences, where God’s voice still echoes whether they like to admit it or not. Deep down they know God is right.

You see, my brothers, how the prophet admonishes us for our advantage: If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts. You can read almost the same words in the gospel and in the prophet. For in the gospel the Lord says: My sheep hear my voice. And in the psalm blessed David says: You are his people (meaning, of course, the Lord’s) and the sheep of his pasture. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts. Hear also the prophet Habakkuk. Far from hiding the Lord’s reprimands, he dwells on them with attentive and anxious care. He says: I will stand upon my watchtower and take up my post on the ramparts, keeping watch to see what he will say to me and what answer I will make to those who try to confute me.

I beg you, my brothers, stand upon our watchtower, for now is the time for battle. Amen! To your battle stations! Stand up and be a witness for the Lord! Keep watch for the people of God! 

Let all our dealings be in the heart, where Christ dwells, in right judgment and wise counsel, but in such a way as to place no confidence in those dealings, nor rely upon our fragile defenses. The Battle is the Lord’s but we are His soldiers.

Courage! Solidarity! Action!

I am the proud father of a new book entitled simply The Ten Commandments (see at right). And you’ll be surprised, knowing me, at how brief it is—just 104 pages. But I wanted to keep it short, readable, connected to the catechism, and very practically related to living the Commandments on a daily basis. You can get it at the usual booksellers and there is also a Kindle version. I hope many will find it helpful, and it even fits neatly in your coat pocket.

A couple of thoughts on moral law, which is a very precious gift to us from God.

1. The moral life is not a burden; it is a precious gift. One of the dangers in trying to understand the Christian moral life is seeing it as simply a list of dos and don’ts. In addition, many Christians tend the think of the moral life in terms of something they must accomplish out of their own flesh and through their own will. This turns the great moral vision of God into a kind of heavy burden rather than a freeing transformation that God works through His grace.

But the Christian moral vision begins with grace; it is something we receive more so than something we achieve. The Christian moral life, then, is the life that Christ died to give us. It is a life in which, increasingly, we are freed from deep and sinful drives such as anger, greed, lust, pride, vengefulness, bitterness, and so forth. Christ died and rose to free us from such things and the Christian moral vision describes what the redeemed human person is like.

And thus the moral section of the Catechism of the Catholic Church is entitled “Life in Christ.” In effect, the title teaches us that the moral life is the result of us living in closer union with Jesus Christ. As Christ lives His life in us, we are increasingly changed and transformed. The Christian moral vision thus answers the questions, “What is the transformed human being like?”, “How does he behave?”, “What is his thought life like?”, “What are his priorities?”, and so forth.

In the incredible Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5-7), Jesus’ moral treatise, He paints a kind of picture of the transformed human person. He is saying, in effect, here is what happens to you if you let me begin to live my life in you. You will be poor to the deceptive riches of this world but rich in the things of God. You will long for holiness and proclaim the gospel even if it costs you. You will have authority over your anger and have tender love for your spouse and children. Purity and chastity will endow your sexuality and your thought life. You will love your enemy and not seek revenge. You will speak the truth in love and trust God more, calling Him your Father, and be less concerned about garnering the approval of the world or worrying about the things it says you must.

It is a rich picture of a person transformed by grace and living with increasing freedom and joy. It is among God’s most precious gifts; it is the gift of new life; it is the effect of His Love; it is the advance of the freedom that is His gift to his children. (Somebody say, “Thank you Lord!”)

2. By grace, the law is fulfilled and its “burden” lifted. In setting forth His vision of the law, Jesus says,  Think not that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets; I have come not to abolish them but to fulfill them (Mat 5:17). To fulfill the law means to “fill it full.” In other words, we are called to observe the law not just in its narrowest legal meaning, but in its fullest sense, as a language of love and trusting fidelity. Lovers do not ask, “What is the least I can do to please my beloved?” Lovers ask, “What more can I do to please?” Love is, by its very nature, extravagant.

A young man who loves a young woman does not say to her, “Your birthday is coming and there is this silly custom that I am supposed to observe: I must buy you a gift. So, beloved one, what is the cheapest gift I can buy you to satisfy my obligation and not lose your affection?” This is not the language of love! The young man, if he truly loves the young woman, will be delighted to celebrate her birthday and will, if possible, buy her a gift that goes beyond minimal expectations.

And this is how it is with grace. The Holy Spirit sets our hearts on fire with love for God and trust in His goodness. Thus when God’s will or commandments are made known to us we are not angry or sorrowful, rather we are delighted and instinctively seek to know all the implications of what God asks.

For example, see how Jesus treats the Fifth Commandment and shows what it means to fulfill it:

You have heard that it was said to the men of old, ‘You shall not kill; and whoever kills shall be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that every one who is angry with his brother shall be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother shall be liable to the council, and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ shall be liable to the hell of fire. So if you are offering your gift at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift (Mt 5:21-24).

Most of us can get through the day without killing someone. In a strict, legal sense we have “kept” the commandment. But Jesus calls us to the love that seeks to fulfill this commandment. Thus we must see that clinging to bitter anger, seeking revenge, using intentionally hurtful language, and refusing to be reconciled to others are all ways that we fail in observing the full implications of what God teaches in this commandment.

It is evident that in one sense Jesus’ understanding of the law is far more demanding than previous interpretations of it. Yet it is less burdensome because of the power of His love within us! Those who love undertake even supposedly burdensome tasks with joy.

Again, consider an example. Suppose there is a young man who seeks to win the affection of a young woman. Suppose further that she asks his assistance with some major project she is trying to accomplish. He will be delighted that she has asked, even if it involves a significant amount of time and energy on his part. Even if he has to cancel some of his own plans, he will do so with joy. If even imperfect human love can lighten burdens and transform them into joys, how much more so will the love of God transform the weight of law into fulfilling joy?

God’s Law is a gift, as those who love him know. Whatever its challenges, its gifts are far greater.

I hope you might consider my book. It is a modest beginning of taking forward some of the work we have done here together on the blog. I hope to publish more soon.

Many troubles today within the Church, and also among Christians in general, come down to a problem of mistaken or false ecclesiology. “Ecclesiology” refers to the nature of the Church. What is the Church? What is the fundamental mission of the Church? How essential is the Church in the life of every believer? What authority does the Church have in our life? Who has the authority in the Church to speak for Jesus Christ and teach in His name? What is the Church’s relationship to Holy Scripture and the sacred deposit of faith?  Is there but one Church, or many? And so forth. These are questions dealt with in the branch of sacred theology known as ecclesiology.

Many people today, including many Catholics, have come to accept a badly flawed ecclesiology. Many see the Church simply as a human institution. The kind of cynicism and scorn commonly directed in our culture toward institutions is therefore also aimed at the Church. But while the Church does have institutional elements and human members, the Church is not a mere human institution.

The Catholic Church is the continuing presence of Jesus Christ in the world—it is the Body of Christ. And this is not just a figurative way of speaking about the Church. Sacred Scripture gives this description a real, quite literal though mystical (i.e., beyond our full sight) sense. The Catholic Church is both visible and spiritual. It is structured hierarchically, like any body, yet is Spirit-led. It has human members yet is also the divine presence of Christ in the world today. The Church, as the Body of Christ, teaches in His name, sanctifies with His grace and Sacraments, and leads with His authority. Jesus still walks this earth, preaches, heals, teaches, forgives, feeds, and summons us.

Because the Church is the Body of Christ—we His members, He the Head of the Body—there cannot be many “Churches” any more than there can be many “Christs.” Jesus has one Body. The Church is not some ethereal, invisible reality. Rather, like any body, it is visible and has identifying marks and attributes. As with a body that has parts, organs, and “members” with different functions, the Church has members. But not all members have the same function or role.

These descriptions set aside many popular misconceptions about the Church.

The Church is not a club made up of people who gather for some specific goal or purpose of their own. Such clubs are fine in their own way, and often have a noble purpose, but the Church exists to bring forth Jesus’ stated goals and purposes, to proclaim His vision, His way, and His truth.

The Church is not a political party. Political parties reflect human preferences and opinion, and are organized to carry forth human goals and projects. This is all well and good, but the Church transcends passing political views and goals, and cannot simply fit into the self-defined boxes of political parties and movements. The Body of Christ cannot be reduced to or perfectly defined by any specific political philosophy or party.

The Church exists to proclaim what Christ has taught, whether it is popular or not.

Now this point is critical and too easily forgotten today by many who issue insistent demands that the Church “update” her teachings and conform to current notions and mores. Many cry out, for example, “Doesn’t the Church leadership know that most Catholics reject its teaching on contraception, or the priesthood?”

Many, because of a flawed ecclesiology think that our failure to conform to modern notions is not only odd, but downright unjust, wrong, or even sinful. This is because of the mistaken idea that the Church is supposed to reflect the views of its members and represent them and what they think.

But the Church does not exist to reflect the views of its members, but rather the views and teachings of its head and founder, Jesus Christ. It is His teachings that are to unite the members of the body and be the principle of our unity. Jesus entrusted His teachings to His apostles, who handed them down to us in Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition.

On this point we must be clear. The defined doctrines, to include the moral teachings of the Church, are not going to change despite even the strident protests of the world. Because of the highly sexualized culture in which we live, most of the demands that we change center around issues of sexuality and the family. But no matter how many secular news reports you have read in the past year or so speculating that “a change in doctrine is being signaled” (whether about divorce and remarriage (as we approach the Synod on the Family in October), or homosexual acts, or sexual intercourse outside of marriage, or abortion, or women being priests, or euthanasia), be assured that these teachings cannot change. There are just some things that the Church cannot do, no matter how heavy the pressure to do so. These doctrinal teachings are not going to change because Jesus, who spoke through his apostles, is not going to change. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and for ever. Do not be led away by diverse and strange teachings (Heb 13:8-9).

Opinion polls are not the source of our teaching, Jesus is. And just as Jesus was rejected by many of His time, the Catholic Church, His body, is often destined to be a sign of contradiction in the world. The same gospel must be preached, in season or out of season.

A proper ecclesiology can save us from needless fears and also from the mistaken notion that the faith revealed by Christ can ever fundamentally change. Courage, the Cross, consistency,  clarity, and charity—in all things, Christ! At the end of the day, even with the likes of me and you, that’s what the Church is: Christ. And though crucified, He rose and His truth will prevail.