At Mass for Wednesday of the 10th Week in Ordinary Time, we read a crucial question from Elijah. It came at a time of widespread apostasy among the Jewish people. Elijah summoned a multitude to Mt. Carmel in the far north of Israel:
Elijah appealed to all the people and said, “How long will you straddle the issue? If the Lord is God, follow him; if Baal, follow him.” The people, however, did not answer him (1 Kings 18:21).
The Baals were the gods of the Canaanites. It had become expedient and popular to worship them because the ruling political leaders, the apostate King Ahab and his wicked wife Jezebel, had set forth the worship of the Baals by erecting altars and sacred columns. All who wished their life to go well and to have access to the levers of prosperity were surely “encouraged” to comply. Jezebel funded hundreds of prophets of Baal and the goddess Asherah. She had many of the prophets of Israel killed and forced others into hiding. Through a policy of favoritism and fear, the true faith was suppressed, and false ideologies were promoted.
At this critical moment, Elijah asked his question. In effect he told them that they needed to decide whether to serve the Lord God out of courageous fidelity or the Baals out of cowardly fear.
We, too, must decide. In our times, the true faith has been undermined in the hearts of many by plausible liars, cultural war, and political correctness. Those who strive to hold to the true faith are called hateful, bigoted, and intolerant. A legal framework is growing that seeks to force compliance to the moral revolution and abandonment of the biblical worldview. Social pressures are at work as well, seeking to compel compliance through political correctness, through suppression of speech and ideas, and through the influence of music, cinema, and art.
The same question must be asked of us: How long will you straddle the issue? If the Lord is God, follow him at any cost. If Baal is your god, follow him! If you prefer what is popular, politically correct, and safe, go for it; but understand that if you do so, your decision is increasingly for Baal, not the Lord. In a culture that insists you celebrate fornication, homosexual acts, transgenderism, abortion, euthanasia, and all sorts of intemperance, realize that your decision to comply amounts to a choice for Baal.
Some claim that they are not really making a fundamental choice against God and for the modern Baals. Rather, they prefer to think that they are being “tolerant,” that they are pleasant moderates seeking to “build bridges” and keep the faith “mainstream.”
The lines are starkly drawn. The choices required of us are clear. The ancient maxim has never been more true: tertium non datur (no third way is given). Jesus says, You cannot serve God and mammon (Mat 6:24). James adds, Adulterers! Do you not realize that a friendship with the world is enmity at God? (James 4:4) Elijah’s question cannot be watered down. There are two sides in the moral battle of our times: choose one.
The people of Elijah’s time did not want to answer. The text says that they just stood there silently. But a lack of response does not make the question or the choice go away. Prolonged silence to so fundamental a question becomes an answer in itself. Silence and fence-sitting are not valid answers when the lines are so clearly drawn.
Here is a warning to “fence-sitters” in the form of an old story:
A man once refused to take sides in the critical and disputed matters of his day, nobly declaring that he was tolerant of all views. Taking his seat on the fence he congratulated himself for his openness; others did too. One day the devil came and said to him, “Come along now, you’re with me.” The man protested, “I don’t belong to you. I’m on the fence!” The devil simply replied: “Oh, but you do belong to me. You see, I own the fence.”
“How long will you straddle the issue? If the Lord is God, follow him; if Baal, follow him.”
I was explaining to a new Catholic recently that the color purple (violet) used during Lent symbolizes its penitential quality. Ash Wednesday and Good Friday are days of fasting and abstinence, and all Fridays of Lent are days of abstinence. These remind us that during Lent we are to give special attention to our sins and our need for salvation.
Long gone are the days of a forty-day fast beginning on Ash Wednesday, but we still delight in the carnival of Fat Tuesday! Carnival literally means “farewell to meat” (carnis + vale)). Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) was so named because the last of the fat was to be used up before the fast began the next day.
The fasting and abstinence in those days were far more than the token observances common today. In most places, all animal products were strictly forbidden during the entirety of Lent. The rest of the details varied by region. While most areas permitted fish, others permitted fish and fowl. Some prohibited fruit and eggs. In some places (like monasteries) little more than bread was eaten. On Fridays during Lent, some areas observed a complete fast; in others believers ate only a single mean; in most places, however, the practice was to abstain from eating until evening, at which time a small meal without vegetables or alcohol was eaten.
Yes, those were the day of the giants — when fasting and abstinence were real sacrifices.
Our token fast on just two days during Lent really isn’t much of a fast at all: two small meals and one regular meal — is that even a fast at all? And we abstain from meat only on the Fridays of Lent instead of all forty days.
What is most remarkable to me is that the fasts of old were undertaken by men, women, and children who had a lot less to eat than we do. Not only was there less food, but it was far more seasonal and its supply less predictable. Further, famines and food shortages were more a fact of life than they are today. Yet despite all this people were able to fast and abstain for forty days. Further, there were ember days sporadically through the year, when a day-long fast was enjoined. And Advent back then had a more penitential nature than it does today.
Frankly, I doubt that we moderns could pull off the fast of the ancients or even the elders of more recent centuries. Can you imagine the bellyaching (pun intended) if we were obligated to follow the strict norms of even 100 or 200 years ago? I’m sure we would hear that such demands were “unrealistic” or even unhealthy.
Perhaps this is a good illustration of how our abundance enslaves us. The more we get the more we want; the more we want the more we think we can’t live without. We are so easily owned by what we claim to own. We are enslaved by our abundance and experience little freedom to go without.
I look back to the Catholics of 100 years ago and before and to me they seem like giants compared to us. They had so little compared to what we have yet they seem to have been so much freer. They could fast. Though poor, they built grand churches and had large families. They crowded into homes and lived and worked in conditions few of us would tolerate. Sacrifice seemed more “normal” to them. I have not read of any huge outcries from that time that the “mean, nasty Church” imposed fasting and abstinence during Lent and Advent. Nor have I read of complaints about the required fasting from midnight until receiving Holy Communion. Somehow, they accepted these sacrifices and for the most part were able to undertake them. They had a freedom that I think many of us lack.
Imagine the joy when, for a day, the fast was lifted: Feast of the Immaculate Conception, Gaudete Sunday, Feast of the Annunciation, St. Joseph’s Feast day, and Laetare Sunday. For us, the pink candle of Guadete Sunday just makes us wondering, “Rejoice? Over what?” For them these were literally “feast days.”
I admit I am a man of my time. The fasting and abstinence described above seems nearly “impossible” to me. I do undertake certain Lenten practices, but when I look back to these “giants” of old, my sacrifices feel pretty small.
The video below is a comedic depiction of our tendency to ignore things that we think don’t matter to us. If we aren’t careful we can live a self-centered life in which the sufferings of others are too remote; if it doesn’t affect us directly we are content to ignore it. Some have called this an “arousal gap.”
While we can’t carry everyone’s burdens and it’s impossible to be well-informed on every calamity in the world,
There should be no division in the body, but that its members should have mutual concern for one another. If one member suffers, every member suffers with it; if one member is honored, every member rejoices with it (1 Cor 12:25-25).
In the sketch below, a woman drives to work as the car radio broadcasts reports on one calamity after another, some of them of biblical proportions. Of course the over-the-top nature of the calamities is what makes for the comedy. The woman driving takes no notice of the disasters being described until one comparatively minor problem is announced that directly affects her. Suddenly she becomes agitated and begins to complain loudly.
The situation laid out in this sketch should lead us to ask ourselves a few questions:
What gets our attention?
What gets us worked up?
Are we as aware of the problems of others as we are of our own?
Are we concerned enough with the problems of others or do we just tune them out?
In the reading at daily Mass for Thursday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time, we encounter an envious Saul. Upon David’s return from slaying Goliath, the women sing a song praising him. Saul should rejoice with all Israel but instead he is resentful and envies David:
Saul was very angry and resentful of the song, for he thought, “They give David ten thousand, but only thousands to me. All that remains for him is the kingship.” And from that day on, Saul looked upon David with a glaring eye. Saul discussed his intention of killing David with his son Jonathan and with all his servants (1 Sam 18:6-9).
Saul’s reaction is way over the top; this is what envy does.
What is envy? Most people use the word today as a synonym for jealousy, but traditionally speaking, they are not the same.
When I am jealous of you, there is something good that you have or are, that I want to have for myself. Jealousy is sinful when one desires something inordinately or unreasonably.
In traditional theology, envy is quite different (cf Summa Thelogica II, IIae 36.1). Envy is sorrow, sadness, or anger at the goodness or excellence of someone else because I take it as lessening my own.
The key difference is that with envy (unlike with jealousy) one does not merely want to possess the good or excellence of another but rather to destroy it.
Notice in the reading above that Saul wants to kill David because he thinks that David’s excellence makes him look less excellent, less great. Saul should rejoice in David’s gifts, for they are gifts to all Israel. David is a fine soldier, which is a blessing to everyone. The proper response to David’s excellence should be to rejoice, to be thankful to God, and where possible, imitate David’s courage and excellence. Instead, Saul sulks. He sees David as stealing the limelight and possibly even the kingdom from him. Envy rears its ugly head when Saul concludes that David must die. The good that is in David must be destroyed.
Envy is diabolical. St. Augustine called envy the diabolical sin (De catechizandis rudibus 4,8:PL 40,315-316) because it seeks to minimize, end, or destroy what is good. Scripture says, By the envy of the Devil death entered the world (Wis 2:24). Seeing the excellence that Adam and Eve (made in the image of God) had and possibly knowing of plans for the incarnation, the Devil envied Adam and Eve. Their glory lessened his — or so he thought — and so he set out to destroy the goodness in them. Envy is ugly and diabolical.
The virtues that cancel envy: The proper response to observing goodness or excellence in others is joy and zeal. We should rejoice that they are blessed because when they are blessed, we are blessed. Further, we should respond with a zeal that seeks to imitate (where possible) their goodness or excellence. Perhaps we can learn from them or from their good example.
Envy is ugly, even when it masquerades as kindness and fairness. For example, the modern tendency to give everyone an award or to not keep score and instead say, “everyone is a winner,” may be rooted in subtle forms of envy cloaked in kindness. Such approaches diminish the truth that some are gifted, some are better than others in certain areas. I will not always be the best nor will I always be the winner. Rather than hide goodness and excellence, we should celebrate it. The proper response to excellence and goodness is joy and zeal.
Saul went to dark places because of his envy; we, too, must beware this deadly sin.
In the story Snow White, the wicked queen envied Snow White, who was “the fairest of them all.” Considering the young girl’s beauty as a threat, the evil queen cast a spell on her to remove her beauty. Envy consumed the evil queen and the satanic-like qualities of this scene well illustrate the darkness of this diabolical sin.
In the Gospels we are reading this week at daily Mass we see Jesus coming into conflict with the religious authorities of His day, who accuse Him of violating the law.
In Monday’s reading Jesus is accused of not following the fasting rules observed by the Pharisees and the disciples of John the Baptist. Jesus rebuffs them by saying, in effect, that rejoicing with the Lord (the very giver of the law) is a weightier matter than the observance of fasting traditions (Mk 2:18ff).
In Tuesday’s reading Jesus is accused of permitting His disciples to violate Sabbath norms (by shelling grain as they walked along). The Lord rebuffs their argument by saying, in effect, that feeding the hungry is a weightier matter than observing a lesser Sabbath norm (Mk 2:23ff).
In Wednesday’s reading Jesus is once again accused of violating Sabbath laws by healing a man on the Sabbath. He rebuffs their claims by teaching that works of charity outweigh lesser Sabbath laws.
Perhaps a way of summarizing Jesus’ replies is in the old Latin expression Caritas suprema lex (Charity is the highest law). In other words, laws are meant to regulate our relationships with God and with others. The law is for something and someone, not merely against things.
Indeed, our relationship with God’s law is complex; often we don’t get it right. When it comes to God’s law we cannot forget that it is personal. That is, it is given to us by a loving God who wants to save us. Therefore, it is important to know both the law and the lawgiver, who is God.
In the Deuteronomiccode, each law is often followed by this phrase: “I am the Lord.” It is as if the Lord is saying, “This is God talking, the God who saved you, the God who parted the Red Sea for you, the God who led you through the desert and into the Promised Land. I, the one who loves you, am telling you this.” The old rabbis put it this way: When God added to the law the phrase “I am the Lord,” He was saying, “Look, I am the one who fished you out of the mud. Now come over here and listen to me.”
So the law is personal and we must strive to know both the law and the lawgiver. Two errors are to be avoided when it comes to the law:
The first error that we can make is that of “legalism,” which elevates the law to the point of idolatry, such that one is kept “safe” by the law rather than by a saving relationship with God, the lawgiver. In such a system there is little room for understanding the Lord’s intent.
There is also a failure to grasp the often general nature of God’s law, which covers common circumstances but does not address every specific situation perfectly. For example, the obligation to attend Mass is usually binding, but illness or the need to care for the ill can be a valid excuse.
The second error we can make is at the other end of the spectrum: assuming a kind of carte blanche based on the claim that “God is love” and doesn’t really care if we follow the moral law. Never mind that God Himself gave us the moral law. Making this error, some claim that God doesn’t care if they skip Mass, live with their girlfriend, etc. He doesn’t care about that sort of thing because He is a loving God, affirming and merciful, a God who is not uptight the way the Church is. A person with such an attitude dismisses large parts of the moral law based on his own authority and the exaggerated notion that he knows what God wants better than even God’s very own revealed word. Such a person claims that a loving and kind God wouldn’t ask difficult things or rebuke sin. Such a notion confuses true love with mere kindness. While kindness is an aspect of love, so are challenge, rebuke, and even punishment.
Neither error will do. The key is to find a balance such that both the law and the lawgiver are properly respected.
As usual, St. Thomas Aquinas provides great insight. While the context of his remarks is the arena of civil law, the principles he sets forth are applicable to divine and ecclesial law as well. He takes up the question of law and the lawgiver in his Summa Theologica.
St. Thomas considers whether one who is under a law may act apart from the letter of the law.
He answers with a qualified yes and, as always, provides important distinctions and premises. He begins with a helpful quote from St. Hilary of Poitiers, who noted that the limits of written law are subject to the limits of all speech, including in its written form:
Hilary says (De Trin. iv): “The meaning of what is said is according to the motive for saying it: because things are not subject to speech, but speech to things.” Therefore, we should take account of the motive of the lawgiver, rather than [merely] of his very words (Summa Theologica I, IIae, Q 96, art. 6, Sed contra).
St. Thomas goes on to note that laws are intended for the common good and speak to the general or common situations, but we must take into consideration that no lawgiver can envision every possible circumstance.
Now it happens often that the observance of some point of law conduces to the common weal in the majority of instances, and yet, in some cases, is very hurtful. Since then the lawgiver cannot have in view every single case, he shapes the law according to what happens most frequently, by directing his attention to the common good. Wherefore if a case arises wherein the observance of that law would be hurtful to the general welfare, it should not be observed (Ibid, respondeo).
St. Thomas presents the following example:
For instance, suppose that in a besieged city it be an established law that the gates of the city are to be kept closed, this is good for public welfare as a general rule: but, it were to happen that the enemy are in pursuit of certain citizens, who are defenders of the city, it would be a great loss to the city, if the gates were not opened to them: and so in that case the gates ought to be opened, contrary to the letter of the law, in order to maintain the common weal, which the lawgiver had in view.
I’m sure we can all think of more modern examples such as breaking the speed limit to rush someone to the hospital, or jaywalking in order to help someone in trouble. Charity is the highest law and saving life is more important than observing laws that are merely cautionary.
St. Thomas next notes the important point that it is only in urgent cases that the law may be set aside without consultation with lawful authority:
Nevertheless, it must be noted, that if the observance of the law according to the letter does not involve any sudden risk needing instant remedy, it is not competent for everyone to expound what is useful and what is not useful to the state: those alone can do this who are in authority, and who, on account of such like cases, have the power to dispense from the laws.
If, however, the peril be so sudden as not to allow of the delay involved by referring the matter to authority, the mere necessity brings with it a dispensation, since necessity knows no law.
Thus urgency and necessity permit quick dispensations of the law, whereas ordinary situations require us to consult and defer to those to whom jurisprudence and legislation are consigned.
Again, St. Thomas is referring here to what is essentially civil law, but if these truths and distinctions apply to civil law with all its imperfections, how much more so to God’s law! If civil law ought not to be casually set aside without consultation and deference to proper authority, how much more so God’s law.
God has set forth a lawful authority in the Magisterium of the Church, to ponder His revealed law and teachings and to interpret them properly and authoritatively. He has also given the Church the power to bind and loose. What Thomas says regarding civil law (it is not competent for everyone to expound what is useful and what is not useful … those alone can do this who are in authority, and who, on account of such like cases, have the power to dispense from the laws) is also the case with respect to God’s law and Church law. No Catholic (except in urgent moments of grave necessity) should dispense with the moral law on his own. No one is a judge in his own case.
That said, even God’s law needs proper application to particular circumstances. St. Thomas (quoting St. Hilary) noted the following:
The meaning of what is said is according to the motive for saying it, because things are not subject to speech, but speech to things. Therefore, we should take account of the motive of the lawgiver, rather than [merely] of his very words. He also commented, then the lawgiver cannot have in view every single case, he shapes the law according to what happens most frequently, by directing his attention to the common good.
Therefore, the Lord left His Church to apply His word to particular circumstances. Without the remembrance that even God’s law speaks to the general and not to every specific case, the written law, univocally read without any reference to God’s overall will, could be reduced to obtuse absurdities and a hurtful legalism.
So law—especially God’s law—is essential and it usually applies, but there are exceptional circumstances; many laws can and do admit of certain exceptions. St. Thomas traces out for us a good balance to seek between legalism and a sort of autonomy that claims the personal right to be dismissive of the law as one sees fit. Many in the modern world get this balance wrong.
Here is a song that reflects the immature, rebellious attitude toward the law that is common today:
One of the common themes in demonology is the way Satan engages in the mockery of holy things. Most widely known are the Satanic “black masses.” Satanic mockery is also widely on display on Halloween, when the eve of all hallows (all saints) becomes a parade of the ghoulish, ugly, violent, unchaste, or just plain evil. Recently costume makers have mocked women religious by promoting costumes depicting pregnant nuns or religious habits altered to promote unchaste thoughts and depict religious life as lewd. No other religious group is subjected to this sort of mockery. Anti-Catholicism is almost the last forms of “acceptable” bigotry.
More subtly, Satan mocks holy things by distorting Christian virtues. For example, false compassion is used to promote physician-assisted suicide and the abortion of babies with abnormal prenatal diagnoses. False or excessive versions of tolerance are use used to insist that the morality of certain behaviors never be questioned. Satan mocks our freedom by presenting a fraudulent version of it. For the Christian, freedom is our capacity to be conformed to God’s will. Satan mockingly substitutes licentiousness leading to freedom being described as the right to do what one pleases.
As Christmas approaches, we should also ponder that satanic possession is a mockery of the incarnation. It is said by tradition and held by many of the Fathers of the Church that the reason for Satan’s fall and the falls of the other demons was their utter rejection of the incarnation. Why would God seek union with us mere humans when He could seek union with higher creatures such as the angels? In their pride and envy (seeWisdom 2:24) as many as a third of the angels waged war against such an idea and were cast down to become the demons they now are (seeRev 12:4).
Yes, in seeking to possess the bodies of the possessed there is a kind of mockery of the incarnation by Satan. As the Eternal Son takes to himself a human nature, Satan in a kind of ridiculing imitation takes up a human body and manifests his presence through the bodily faculties. Of course, Satan cannot take up a full human nature. Satan cannot possess the soul of a human person, only the body. Neither, then, can he effect a hypostatic union, uniting in his one person a demonic and human nature. Satan’s mockery of the incarnation steals from the concept but cannot come close to its true glory.
Understand this: Satan sneers at and mocks everything we hold sacred; he seeks to distort what is good. Sadly, right in my own neighborhood, Satan’s mockery of the incarnation could not be more obvious. Recently a Planned Parenthood “mega center” opened, enabling the killing of thousands of unborn children each year. Its address is 1225 Fourth Street. That’s right, 1225, another way of writing December 25th. The numbers are prominently displayed on the building (see photo above). It is as if Satan is saying, “Here’s to your Christmas Day!”
All the more reason for us to honor true Christmas and the true incarnation. Because evil is the privation or lack of good, all Satan can do is to steal ideas from what is good and either distort them or mock them. He is a thief and a murderer, a deceiver and a distorter; he sneers and mocks. Look past this antichrist and seek always the true Christ. Our true Savior’s birth is soon to unfold liturgically. May the true Christ be ours this Christmas, 12-25-2017 A.D.
Earlier today, Cardinal Wuerl joined with other faith leaders of the Washington area to share a thoughts on the meaning of Thanksgiving. Read the message below or here.
Thanksgiving 2017
The American Holiday
Across our nation, people of every background and tradition celebrate Thanksgiving as a distinctly American holiday, rooted in gratitude. In the great diversity of faith traditions, we gather at table to give thanks for our many blessings. We pause to thank our Creator and, at the same time, celebrate our freedom. Thanksgiving is not only an historical celebration, but a present reality in which even the most recent arrival in our nation rejoices. Among the blessings Americans share is the gift of freedom. We celebrate its many expressions, including the freedom to practice one’s faith. Another is our freedom of speech and the liberty to express ourselves. We recognize, however, that freedom of expression carries the responsibility to do so with mutual respect and civility. As Americans, we are all free to speak what we believe to be the truth, but we are also challenged to do so in love, in the spirit of universal kinship recognizing the dignity of every person. For both the freedom and the challenge we give thanks. And we wish a peaceful, happy Thanksgiving to all.
The Solidarity Table
Imam Talib Shareef
Masjid Muhammad – The Nation’s Mosque
Bishop Mariann Budde
Episcopal Diocese of Washington
At Mass for Wednesday of the 10th Week in Ordinary Time, we read a crucial question from Elijah. It came at a time of widespread apostasy among the Jewish people. Elijah summoned a multitude to Mt. Carmel in the far north of Israel:
