One of the most common frustrations in the spiritual life is the fact that God often makes us wait. Many of our requests are made with an elevated sense of urgency. Frankly, we are in a big hurry about many things—but God is not. Although He could fix every problem in an instant, He does not, and He has His reasons for this.
While the reasons for God’s delay may be somewhat mysterious, we can certainly understand some of them. For example, any parent knows that giving a child whatever he wants precisely when he wants is to spoil him. Learning to wait is beneficial. It humbles us, keeps us vigilant, helps us to clarify our desires, and aids us in developing self-control.
In last week’s Office, we read a tract from St. Augustine, in which he beautifully described another reason that God would have us wait:
The entire life of a good Christian is in fact an exercise of holy desire. You do not yet see what you long for, but the very act of desiring prepares you, so that when he comes you may see and be utterly satisfied.
Suppose you are going to fill some holder or container, and you know you will be given a large amount. Then you set about stretching your sack or wineskin or whatever it is. Why? Because you know the quantity you will have to put in it and your eyes tell you there is not enough room. By stretching it, therefore, you increase the capacity of the sack.
And this is how God deals with us. Simply by making us wait he increases our desire, which in turn enlarges the capacity of our soul, making it able to receive what is to be given to us.
So, my brethren, let us continue to desire, for we shall be filled! (Tract. 4: PL 35, 2008-2009)
St. Teresa of Avila said something similar in her seminal work, The Interior Castle. In her reflection on the fourth mansions, she introduced the first stages of contemplative prayer:
I remember a verse we say at Prime at the end of the final Psalm; the last words are: “Cum dilatasti cor meum”—“When Thou didst dilate my heart.” … [A] person must have dwelt for a long time in the former mansions before entering these … [otherwise] all occasions of gaining merit would be withdrawn, were [the soul] left continually absorbed in God. [This is] the difference between sweetness in prayer and spiritual consolations (The Interior Castle, Fourth Mansions 1:3-5).
In effect, she is teaching that one rarely reaches deeper prayer without the necessary waiting, as God leads us through the stages of the purgative way (mansions one through three). We must wait and cooperate as God does His work to purify us and enlarge our heart to receive the gift of deeper prayer. And even once deeper prayer is attained, it cannot be all sweetness, for then merit and further growth would be lost.
God must increase the size of our heart, but this takes time. If we are faithful, waiting brings about yearning. To yearn is to increase our desire and to enlarge our heart. This prepares us for the greater gifts God wants to bestow upon us.
There are many reasons God has us wait. Allow St. Augustine and St. Teresa to teach you one important reason. Let God enlarge your heart through desire. Only then will it be big enough to enjoy the full extent of what He is offering.
In today’s Gospel the Lord is teaching us, by His grace, to break the cycle of hatred and retribution. When someone harms me I may well become angry, and in my anger seek to get back at the offender. If I do that, though, then Satan has earned a second victory and brought the anger and retribution to a higher level. Most likely, the one who originally harmed me will then take exception to my retribution and try to inflict more harm on me. And so the cycle continues and escalates. Satan loves this.
Break the cycle. The Lord has dispatched us onto the field to turn the game around and break this cycle of retribution and hatred. The “play” He wants us to execute is the “it ends with me” play.
Don’t play on Satan’s team. To hate those who hate me, to get back at those who harm me, is to work for Satan, to play on his team. Why do that?
To advance the ball for Jesus is to break the cycle of retribution and hatred by taking the hit and not returning it. By loving our enemy, we break the cycle of hate. By refusing retribution, we rob Satan of a double victory.
Recall the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.:
Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction. … The chain reaction of evil—hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars—must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation (From Strength to Love, 1963).
Christ, living in us, wants to break the cycle.
The Necessity of Grace – Recall as well a point made in last Sunday’s reflection: that the antitheses contained in chapter 5 of the Gospel of Matthew are pictures of the transformed human person. Jesus is describing here what happens to a person in whom He has begun to live through the Holy Spirit. The verses are a description more so than a prescription. Jesus is not merely telling us to stop being so thin-skinned, easily offended, and retaliatory. He’s not just telling us to stop hating people. If that were the case, it would be easy for us to get discouraged or to write them off as some impossible ideal. No, the Lord is doing something far greater than just giving us a set of rules. He is describing what will happen to us more and more as His grace transforms us.
With this in mind, let’s look at the particulars in three sections.
I. Regarding Retaliation – The first of the antitheses reads as follows:
You have heard that it was said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” But I say to you, offer no resistance to one who is evil. When someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other one to him as well. If anyone wants to go to law with you over your tunic, hand him your cloak as well. Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him for two miles. Give to the one who asks of you, and do not turn your back on one who wants to borrow.
Behind this text is the gift from the Lord of a generous heart. Psalm 118 says, In the ways of your precepts I run O Lord for you have enlarged my heart. It takes a large heart not to retaliate, to go the extra mile, to give alms. The transformed mind and heart that Jesus gives us is like this. It is a big heart, able to endure personal slights and attacks, refuse retaliation, and let go of personal possessions in pursuit of a higher goal.
That said, there are surely many questions that arise out of these sayings of Jesus’. Most of them, however, come from seeing Jesus’ words as a legalistic prescription rather than as a descriptive example. Nevertheless, they are important questions.
What does it mean to offer no resistance to injury?
Does it mean that there is no place for a criminal justice system?
Should police forces be banned?
It there no place for national defense or armed forces?
Should all punishment be banned?
Should bad behavior never be rebuked?
Am I required to relinquish anything anyone asks me for?
Must I always give money to beggars?
Is it always wise to give someone whatever he asks for?
Should I agree to accept every task that is asked of me?
To answer some of these questions, we do well to recall that the Lord is speaking to us as individuals. The state, which has an obligation to protect the innocent from enemies within and without, may be required to use force to repel threats. Further, it has an obligation to secure basic justice and may therefore be required to impose punishment on those who commit crimes. This has been the most common Catholic understanding of this passage. The New Testament seems to accept that the state does have punitive powers, to be used for the common good.
But don’t miss Jesus’ main point, which is directed to us as individuals. He testifies that, to the degree that we are transformed, we will not seek to retaliate or avenge personal injuries. Rather, due to our relationship with God the Father, we will be content to leave such matters to God. As Scripture testifies, Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God; for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord” (Rom 12:19). Further and even more important, to the degree that Jesus lives in us, we will be less easily offended. This is because our sense of our dignity is rooted in Him, not in what some mere mortal thinks, says, or does.
Jesus goes on to give four examples of what He means by us becoming less vengeful and retaliatory.
When someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other one to him as well.In ancient times, striking someone in this manner was a sign of disrespect, just as it would be today. There is an intended humiliation when someone strikes another on the cheek. By turning the other cheek, one would then be struck with the back side of the striker’s hand. This was an even greater indignity in the ancient world! But as a Christian in whom Christ is really living, who can really dishonor me? God is the source of my dignity; no one can take it from me. By this grace, I can let any slight pass, because I have not been stripped of my dignity. The world did not give me my dignity and the world cannot take it away. From this perspective, Jesus is not offering us merely the grace to endure indignity, but the grace not to suffer or experience indignity at all.
If anyone wants to go to the law with you over your tunic, hand him your cloak as well.In ancient times, it was forbidden to take someone’s tunic in pledge for a loan. Thus Jesus would seem to be using this example as a symbol of our rights. There are some people who are forever demanding and clinging to their rights. They clutch their privileges and will not let them go even if the common good would require it. They will go to the law rather than suffer any infringement upon their rights. The true Christian thinks more in terms of duties than rights, more of responsibilities than privileges. All this
“personal honor” stuff is unimportant when Christ lives in us. To be sure, there are some rights necessary for the completion of our duties or for meeting our basic needs. It is unlikely that Jesus has in mind to forbid this. But as a general rule, Jesus is indicating that we can be freed of obsession over our “rights,” “dignity,” and also our personal possessions. Increasingly, we can be freed of the anger that can arise when someone might even think of touching anything that is “ours.” The more we are detached from earthly possessions, the less we get anxious or angry when these things are somehow threatened or used without our permission, or when our precious “rights” are trampled upon.
Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him for two miles.It was legal for a Roman solider to press a person into service for one mile to carry things. Some might be bent out of shape over such indignities. Jesus offers us a generous heart that will go the extra mile. Jesus came as the servant of all; He came to serve rather than to be served. To the degree that He lives in us, we will willingly serve and not feel slighted when someone asks us to do something. Neither will we cop the “Why me?” attitude that commonly afflicts the ungenerous soul. The key gift here is a generous heart, even in situations in which others do not assign work to us fairly or appreciate our efforts sufficiently. This is of little concern for us, because we work for God.
Give to the one who asks of you, and do not turn your back on one who wants to borrow.Many questions arise related to indiscriminate giving. In some cases, it may not be wise thing to give money simply because someone asks. But don’t miss the main point here: when Jesus lives in us, we will be more generous. We will give cheerfully and assist others gladly. We will not get bent out of shape when someone asks us for help. We may not always be able to help, but our generous heart will not begrudge the beggar; we will remain cheerful and treat him or her with respect.
Here, then, is a description of a transformation of the mind and heart. We will view things differently. We will not be so easily bent out of shape, retaliatory, or vengeful. We will be more patient, more generous, less grasping, and more giving. This is what happens when we live in a transformative relationship with Jesus.
II. Radical Requirement – Love your enemy.
You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.” But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your heavenly Father, for he makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what recompense will you have? Do not the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet your brothers only, what is unusual about that? Do not the pagans do the same?
This is the acid test, the hallmark of a true Christian: love of one’s enemy. Note that the Lord links this to being a true child of God. Why? Because God loves everyone and gives gifts of sun and rain to all. If we are a “chip off the old block,” we will do the same. It’s easy to love those who love us, but a Christian is called to fulfill the Law and exceed it.
If Christ lives in us, then we will love even our enemy. Recall that Jesus loved us even when we hated Him and killed Him. Jesus said, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do (Luke 23:34). Elsewhere in Scripture is written, While we were his enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son (Rom 5:10).
We should be careful not to make love an abstraction. The Lord is talking about a real transformation of our hearts. Sometimes we say silly things like this: You don’t have to like everyone but you have to love them. This turns love into something of an abstraction. God doesn’t just love me; he even likes me. The Lord is talking about a deep love that wills good things for our enemy and even works toward them.
We are called to have compassion, understanding, and even affection for those who hate us and will us evil. We may wonder how this can happen in us. How can we have affection for those who hate us? It can be so when Christ lives His life in us. We will good and do good to them who hate us, just as Jesus did.
It is also important not to sentimentalize this love. Jesus loved His enemies but did not coddle them. He spoke the truth to the Scribes and Pharisees of His day, often forcefully and uncompromisingly. We are called to a strong love, one which wants the truth for everyone, but we must give this testimony with understanding and true (not fake or false) compassion.
III. Remarkable Recapitulation – Finally, the Lord says,
So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect.
Here is the fundamental summary, the recapitulation: God-like perfection! Nothing less will do. How could there be anything less when Christ lives His life in us? To the degree that He lives in us and the old Adam dies, we become perfect. This is the state of the saints in Heaven: they have been made perfect. Christ’s work in them is complete. The Greek word used here is τέλειός (teleios) which means complete or perfect. Thus, the emphasis is on the completion of a work in us more so than mere excellence in performance. Paul writes to the Philippians, And I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ (Phil 1:6).
This sentence also serves as an open-ended conclusion to the antitheses today’s Gospel. It’s almost as if Jesus says, “I’ve only given you a few examples here. The point is to be perfect, complete in every way, totally transformed in your mind, heart, and behavior.”
And thus we return to the original theme: it ends with me. In these final two antitheses the Lord wants to break the cycle of anger, retribution, and violence. He wants the downward spiral of hatred and vengeance to end with me. When, on account of His grace, I do not retaliate, I break the cycle. When I do not escalate the bitterness or return the spite, when I refuse to allow hate to take possession of me, the cycle ends with me. Only God can do this for me.
But He does do it. I promise you in the Lord Jesus Christ that He can deliver us from anger, wrath, vengefulness, and pettiness. I can promise you because He is doing it in me. I do not boast; I am only telling you what the Lord has done. For the most part, I have been delivered from my anger, something that was once a major struggle for me. It is not any longer. I did not deliver myself—Jesus did. The promise of the Lord here is true. Only God can do it. He has said it and He will do it—if we let Him.
This song says, “I Look to you. After all my strength is gone, in you I can be strong. I look to you!”
I wonder if many of us over forty would say that our life has gone as we planned. Very few of my college friends are now doing anything closely related to their degree. My degree is in computer science, yet today I am a priest. One of my friends studied engineering but is now doing cybersecurity. Another got a psychology degree yet is now a business owner. If you want to make God laugh, just tell Him your plans!
The video below features some funny high school yearbook photos of various celebrities. I must admit that I only recognize a few of them; I’m not that aware of popular cultural icons. Nevertheless, it’s clear that life often unfolds in unusual ways.
Life is filled with possibilities, problems, and setbacks, but somehow they are all part of God’s plan for us. If we are faithful, all things work together for our good (see Romans 8:28). When I was in high school, I surely never thought I’d be a priest one day—but here I am. And even the things I did back then that don’t seem related to my life today were a mysterious part of my preparation. God has been good to me. He prepares and provides; He prunes and promotes. God is working His purposes out, if we trust Him.
Always remember that we meet God in what is not in what might have been. Walk with God in your reality. Allow your life to unfold a little; try not to insist on controlling and manipulating every outcome.
Yes, that is my senior yearbook picture at upper right, just before I grew the beard!
I occasionally get questions about the remarkably long lives of the patriarchs who lived before the great flood. Consider the ages at which these figures purportedly died:
Adam – 930
Seth – 912
Enosh – 905
Jared – 962
Methuselah – 969
Noah – 950
Shem – 600
Eber – 464
Abraham – 175
Moses – 120
David – 70
How should we understand these references? Many theories have been proposed to explain the claimed longevity. Some use a mathematical corrective, but this leads to other pitfalls such as certain patriarchs apparently begetting children while still children themselves. Another theory proposes that the purported life spans of the patriarchs are just indications of their influence or family line, but then things don’t add up chronologically with eras and family trees.
Personally, I think we need to take the stated life spans of the patriarchs at face value and just accept it as a mystery: for some reason, the ancient patriarchs lived far longer than we do in the modern era. I cannot prove that they actually lived that long, but neither is there strong evidence that they did not. Frankly, I have little stake in insisting that they did in fact live to be that old. But if you ask me, I think it is best just to accept that they did.
This solution, when I articulate it, causes many to scoff. They almost seem to be offended. The reply usually sounds something like this: “That’s crazy. There’s no way they lived that long. The texts must be wrong.” To which I generally reply, “Why do you think it’s crazy or impossible?” The answers usually range from the glib to the more serious, but here are some common replies:
People didn’t know how to tell time accurately back then. Well, actually, they were pretty good at keeping time, in some ways better than we are today. The ancients were keen observers of the sun, the moon, and the stars. They had to be, otherwise they would have starved. It was crucial to know when to plant, when to harvest, and when to hunt (e.g., the migratory and/or hibernation patterns of animals through the seasons). They may not have had timepieces that were accurate to the minute, but they were much more in sync with the rhythms of the cosmos than most of us are today. They certainly knew what a day, a month, and a year were by the cycles of the sun, moon, and stars.
They couldn’t have lived that long because they didn’t have the medicines we do today. Perhaps, but it is also possible that they didn’t have the diseases we do. Perhaps they ate and lived in more healthy ways than we do today. Perhaps the gene pool later became corrupted in a way that it was not back then. There are many things we cannot possibly know. The claim about our advanced technology (medicine) also shows a tendency of us moderns to think that no one in the world has ever been smarter than we are. While we surely do have advanced technologies, we also have things that make us more susceptible to disease: stress, anxiety, overly rich diets, pollutants, promiscuity, drug use, and hormonal contraceptives. There are many ways in which we live out of sync with the natural world. It is also quite possible that the strains of disease and viral attacks have become more virulent over time.
Those long life spans just symbolize wisdom or influence. OK fine, but what is the scale? Does Adam living to 930 mean that he attained great wisdom? But wait, David wasn’t any slouch and he only made it to 70. And if Seth was so influential (living to 912), where are the books recording his influence such as we have for Moses, who lived to be a mere 120? In other words, we can’t just propose a scale indicating influence or wisdom without some further definition of what the numbers actually mean.
Sorry, people just don’t live that long. Well, today they don’t, but why is something automatically false simply because it doesn’t comport with today’s experience? To live to be 900 is preternatural, not supernatural. (Something preternatural is extremely extraordinary, well outside the normal, but not impossible.) In other words, it is not physically impossible in an absolute sense for a human being to live for hundreds of years. Most people today die short of 100 years of age, but some live longer. Certain closely related mammals like dogs and cats live only 15 to 20 years. Why is there such a large difference in life expectancy between humans and other similar animals? There is obviously some mysterious clock that winds down more quickly for some animals than for others. So there is a mystery to the longevity of various living things, even those that are closely related. Perhaps the ancients had what amounted to preternatural gifts.
So I think we’re back to where we started: just taking the long life spans of the early patriarchs at face value.
There is perhaps a theological truth hidden in the shrinking lifespans of the Old Testament. The Scriptures link sin and death. Adam and Eve were warned that the day they ate of the forbidden fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, they would die (Gen 2:17), but they did not drop dead immediately. Although they died spiritually in an instant, the clock of death for their bodies wound down much later. As the age listing above shows, as sin increased, lifespans dropped precipitously, especially after the flood.
Prior to the flood, lifespans remained in the vicinity of 900 years, but right afterward they dropped by about a third (Shem only lived to 600), and then the numbers plummeted even further. Neither Abraham nor Moses even reached 200, and by the time of King David, he would write, Our years are seventy, or eighty for those who are strong (Ps 90:10).
Scripture says, For the wages of sin is death (Rom 6:23). Indeed they are, especially in terms of lifespan. Perhaps that is why I am not too anxious to try to disprove the long life spans of the patriarchs, for what we know theologically is borne out in our human experience: sin is life-destroying. This truth is surely made clear by the declining lifespan of the human family.
Does this prove that Adam actually lived to be more than 900 years old? No, it only shows that declining life spans are something we fittingly discover in a world of sin. God teaches that sin brings death, so why should we be shocked that our life span has decreased from 900 years to about 85? It is what it is. It’s a sad truth about which God warned us. Thanks be to God our Father, who in Jesus now offers us eternal life, if we will have faith and obey His Son!
How or even whether the patriarchs lived to such advanced ages is not clear, but what is theologically clear is that we don’t live that long today because of the collective effect of sin upon us.
The readings from Mass yesterday (Wednesday of the 6th Week of the Year) give two helpful images that call us to patience. Patience is a virtue through which we are willing to endure as we look for something better that will come to pass. The word comes from the Latin patior, which means “to suffer.” Thus the virtue of patience is the capacity or willingness to suffer some difficulty for a greater good rather than for immediate satisfaction. For example, we might be annoyed at someone’s behavior and want to vent our anger immediately, but patience (and prudence) might counsel that we should wait for a better moment to discuss the matter. We are willing to suffer now for a potentially better outcome later.
We also need to learn patience in the areas of moral and spiritual growth, both for ourselves and others. Growth usually comes slowly and in stages. The term “stages” suggests that certain things need to be firmly in place before other things can happen. Jesus once said, I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth (Jn 16:12-13). In this we see the patience of God as He accustoms us to His wisdom and truth. We read elsewhere, God’s patience is directed to our salvation (2 Peter 3:15). His patience for us is no mere coddling; it is meant to be ongoing, steady work as we grow in maturity and greater conformity to the truth.
This leads to the two images of patience in Wednesday’s readings. One occurs in the Gospel; in it, Jesus heals a blind man.
[Jesus] laid his hands on the man and asked, “Do you see anything?” Looking up the man replied, “I see people looking like trees and walking.” Then he laid hands on the man’s eyes a second time and he saw clearly; his sight was restored and he could see everything distinctly (Mk 8:23-25).
It’s hard not to laugh a bit at this. Even Jesus had to lay hands on some folks more than once! We are more accustomed to seeing His miracles as instant fixes, and this is dangerous. What the miracles mean to teach is that the event described in the passage is what happens to us (if we are faithful), but extended over a longer period of time. Most of us see more clearly over time, rather than all at once. The Lord removes our blindness in stages and through ongoing healing. The miracle described here illustrates that well. Jesus works patiently with the blind man, and he works even more patiently with us.
We, too, must learn to work with others over time to restore lost vision. Sometimes in order to grasp higher truths, other supporting truths and first principles must first be understood. When a person has been in a dark room, it is usually inadvisable to turn on all the lights at once; rather, it is better to accustom him to the light gradually. Thus, patience and prudence counsel persistently working, with ourselves and others, so that progress can be made.
A second picture of patience is seen in the first reading from the Book of Genesis. Noah is “working” with a dove to assess the stages of the flood:
[Noah] sent out a dove,
to see if the waters had lessened on the earth.
But the dove could find no place to alight and perch,
and it returned to him in the ark,
for there was water all over the earth.
Putting out his hand, he caught the dove
and drew it back to him inside the ark.
He waited seven days more and again sent the dove out from the ark.
In the evening the dove came back to him,
and there in its bill was a plucked-off olive leaf!
So Noah knew that the waters had lessened on the earth.
He waited still another seven days
and then released the dove once more;
and this time it did not come back (Gen 8:8-13).
Allow the dove to symbolize our growth and maturity, for we live in a world that is often flooded with trouble.
In the first stage, the dove flutters about and is so terrified by what it sees that Noah must reach out and rescue it by pulling it back into the ark.
In the second stage, the dove finds a sign of hope, serenity, and peace. It is able to return showing this sign of progress and peace.
In the final stage, the dove flies free!
This is a picture of growth and maturity for us, who in stages become free of our fears and from excessive dependence on others; eventually we fly free. As Noah patiently worked with the dove, so God patiently works with us. This is also how we should work with our own self and others.
When I was in my mid-thirties, I was afflicted with grave anxiety and was being treated for it. In a difficult and discouraging moment, I angrily said to God, “If you wanted to, you could just fix this for me in an instant!” God replied, “I will not do violence to you.” I quickly responded, “I didn’t ask you to do violence to me.” God retorted, “Yes, you did.”
Indeed, healing takes time. For example, heart surgery is a delicate work and not to be rushed. Many people want relief, not healing. Healing involves hard work; it means making important changes in our life. It usually means looking honestly at our wounds and then doing the spiritual and psychological equivalent of “physical therapy.”
This leads us back to where we began: We need to learn greater patience. But patience is not passive; it is not resignation to sin or other harmful drives. Patience involves suffering; it is a resolve to stay in an often-difficult relationship with what (or who) troubles us so as to lay hold of the greater goal of holiness and healing. Patience is not looking for a quick fix or mere relief; it is looking for healing. Healing is hard, but it is better—far better—than mere relief.
As we read the flood story in Tuesday’s daily Mass, I feel that a few clarifications are in order.
While we are not required as Catholics to interpret every detail of the flood story literally, there does seem to be some evidence (preserved in many ancient cultures) of a flood or “mega event” that drastically reduced the size of the human race. In addition, genetic, geological, and anthropological information point to a period some 70,000 years ago during which humans almost vanished from the planet [*].
How much of the flood narrative is a story and how much is history may be debatable, but something surely happened. In Genesis, God is recounting for us that He intervened at a critical moment to prune and purify the human family of the more egregious effects of sin in the aftermath of original sin.
The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And the Lord regretted that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart. So the Lord said, “I will blot out man whom I have created from the face of the ground, man and beast and creeping things and birds of the air, for I am sorry that I have made them.” But Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord (Gen 6:5-8).
This leads to another necessary clarification. God is said to regret that He made us and is described as being deeply grieved. Descriptions such as these are largely held to be anthropomorphisms, which ascribe human traits to God as a way of indicating the thoughts of God by analogy. In whatever manner God is “grieved” or “regretful,” it is not in the same way that we are. We are being told in this text that God has a resolve to set things right and to put an end to extreme wickedness. The artful use of anthropomorphic language to advance the story should not be considered as overriding other Scriptures that remind us that God is not subject to change and passions as we are. For example,
God is not man, that he should lie, or a son of man, that he should repent. Has he said, and will he not do it? Or has he spoken, and will he not fulfill it? (Numbers 23:19)
[The Children of men] will perish, but You endure; And all of them will wear out like a garment; Like clothing You will change them and they will be changed. But You are the same, And Your years will not come to an end (Psalm 102:26-27).
I the LORD do not change. So you, the descendants of Jacob, are not destroyed (Mal 3:6).
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change (James 1:17).
A third clarification is needed in order to “rescue” God from charges of injustice in this “mass killing” of the human race. God, of course, is the giver of life. As the one who gives it, He also sets the length of our life and the manner of our death. This is His right. Indeed, one might even say that this is His “job.”
By way of analogy, I tend to many rose bushes in front of my rectory. At times, I feed them, water them, and foster their growth. At other times, I prune them. In certain cases, I remove diseased plants from the rose bed. Last year, I removed three diseased rose bushes. Who would dispute my right to do this? Who would accuse me of injustice? This is my work and my proper role.
While it is true that human beings are certainly more precious than roses, it is still God’s role to attend to the life and death of human beings, to the planting and harvesting of individuals, cultures, and civilizations. In His providence, God will at times prune away large segments in order to stave off disease or foster growth in individuals and in humanity as a whole.
Thus in the flood narrative, God sees the widespread evil and chooses to save what little good remains by cutting away the rest. In so doing, He creates a new beginning of goodness for the world. It is not free of sin, but is less beset by grave wickedness.
Yet even here, God does not necessarily forsake the wicked whose earthly lives He ends. They are confined in Sheol and await a day of visitation from the Lord. Scripture speaks to the fulfillment of this merciful outreach:
For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made alive in the spirit, in which he went and proclaimed to the spirits in prison, because they formerly did not obey, when God’s patience waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was being prepared, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were brought safely through water (1 Peter 3:18-20).
The Lord calls to them once more in His descent to the dead after Good Friday. He awakens them, preaches to them, and summons them. Did only some or all repent in the flood waters? We do not know, but the point remains that in ending their earthly lives, God did not completely forsake them in sending the waters. The worst thing is not dying (which we all will do); it is refusing God’s merciful love though an impenitent heart. God works for our eternal salvation, not merely our earthly comfort.
Here’s one scientific theory; take it or leave it as you wish.
In yesterday’s post, we explored the details of original sin and learned that there are subtleties and stages to it that can teach us something. Original sin was more than eating a piece of fruit; there were things that led up to it, both externally and internally.
I also mentioned that it was worth exploring how the sacred text speaks of the “Sin of Adam” and differentiates it to some extent from the sin that Eve commits. Biblically, original sin is properly denoted as the “Sin of Adam.” It is Adam’s sin, not Eve’s that is called “original sin” (cf Rom 5:12 inter al).
It is not that Eve did not sin, or that her actions have no interest for us. Yesterday’s post focused on the stages she went through. Rather, as the head of his household and the human family, Adam had responsibility and thereby incurred the sin we call “original sin,” which comes down to all of us.
As you can see, this post isn’t very politically correct thus far—and it’s only going to get worse from here. In striving to differentiate Eve’s sin from Adam’s I would like to take up a very controversial text from St. Paul. While the specific text comports poorly with modern notions, two cautions are in order for those of us who read the text:
First, this is a sacred text, and even if St. Paul may have drawn some of his reflections from the cultural experiences of the time, he provides theological reasons for what he writes.
Second, remember that one verse from St. Paul is not all of St. Paul and certainly not all of Scripture. What Paul says rather absolutely in the verse that follows, he qualifies to some extent and other places as we shall see.
With this in mind, let’s examine the controversial text and strive to distinguish Adam’s sin from Eve’s. St. Paul writes:
A woman should learn in quietness and full submission. I do not permit a woman to teach or to assume authority over a man; she must be quiet. For Adam was formed first, then Eve. And Adam was not the one deceived; it was the woman who was deceived and became a sinner (1 Tim 2:11b-14).
Many, upon reading a text so astonishingly out of step with modern thinking, are prone simply to dismiss it as a relic of some past, dark age. It is debatable whether the edict that a woman should be silent and have no teaching authority over a man, is merely a disciplinary norm that we are not required to observe today. It is also debatable how absolute Paul’s words were meant to be. Paul wrote elsewhere of women in the early church communities as catechists (e.g., Phoebe in Romans 16:1), spiritual leaders, and benefactors (e.g., Lydia). He also made provisions for the proper attire of a woman who is to speak in the assembly (she is to cover her head). So what St. Paul says here, he distinguishes elsewhere in a way that allows for some provision that women both speak and teach the faith.
In the quote from first Timothy above, the context seems rather clearly to be that of the family and marriage. I this passage Paul affirms the headship of the husband, as he does elsewhere (Ephesians 5:22, Colossians 3:18); Peter does so as well (1 Peter 3:1-6).
Here is another text in which Paul speaks of women being silent in the Church. In this case, the context seems to be liturgical:
Women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak, but must be in submission, as the law says. If they want to inquire about something, they should ask their own husbands at home; for it is disgraceful for a woman to speak in the church (1 Cor 14:34-35).
There are legitimate debates about how strictly this silence is to be interpreted. Generally, Church practice has understood this to mean that women are not to give the official teaching in the liturgy that we refer to as the sermon or homily. This stricture has been observed from antiquity down to the present day, by reserving the homily to the bishop, priest, or deacon. In more recent times, there have been allowances for women to serve as lectors, cantors, and singers. But the official teaching moment of the homily is still reserved to the male clergy, and the Magisterium consists of bishops and the Pope.
Prescinding from debate about how absolutely or strictly to interpret St. Paul’s restrictions, or whether or not some of these things are cultural artifacts that can be adjusted, what I really wish to focus on is the theological reasoning behind the differences between Adam’s sin and Eve’s sin. St. Paul writes,
For Adam was formed first, then Eve. And Adam was not the one deceived; it was the woman who was deceived and became a sinner (1 Tim 2:13-14).
St. Paul begins by saying that Adam was formed first, followed by Eve. And thus here he teaches that the husband has headship, authority. As Paul says elsewhere, The husband is head of his wife just as Christ is head of the Church (Eph 5:22).
In terms of original sin, which is our concern in today’s blog, Paul says that Adam was not the one deceived; it was Eve who was deceived. Thus, St. Paul speaks of Eve’s sin as being different from Adam’s. She was deceived and so sinned. Adam, however, was not deceived. His sin lay elsewhere.
Of the fact of her deception, Eve is a witness, for she says, “The serpent tricked me and so I ate it” (Gen 3:13). But of Adam’s sin, God says, “You listened to your wife and ate fruit from the tree about which I commanded you, ‘You must not eat from it’” (Gen 3:17). Adam’s sin lay in his willingness to allow his wife to tempt him.
Dear reader, you were warned that this was not going to be a politically correct post. Teachings such as these grate on modern ears, but of course that does not make them untrue.
Perhaps a little additional reflection may help to avoid knee-jerk reactions (such as gloating or anger). Adam’s and Eve’s sins are described differently; each’s sin can also be understood as a kind of weakness to which each was particularly susceptible: she to deception, he to being swayed by her feminine mystique and beauty.
St. Paul does not simply locate these two weaknesses in Adam and Eve as individuals, but also as male and female. Hence, St. Paul seems to teach here that a woman ought not to have a solemn teaching authority in the Church because of her tendency to be deceived.
Why might this be, that a woman could be more easily deceived? Perhaps it is rooted, paradoxically, in a woman’s strength. Among the strengths that women more generally manifest are natural spirituality and being sources of unity and peace in the heart of the family. And while these are wonderful strengths, in certain circumstances they can open one to deception. For if one seeks to make peace, one may compromise with error and sin. And though being open to spiritual things is of itself good, there are erroneous spiritual concepts to which one ought not to be open.
Not only is a woman possibly more susceptible to these, but should she cede to them, she can also have undue power over her husband and other men who might well be drawn by her beauty to set aside their better judgment.
To my mind, this is what St. Paul is getting at here in saying that Eve was deceived and Adam was not, therefore a woman cannot have teaching authority in the Church. There was also a warning in ancient Israel that men should not take foreign wives because they might confuse a man’s heart into the worship of their foreign gods. A man’s heart can easily be swayed by a beautiful and influential woman.
And thus, addressing a double threat, St. Paul forbids women to have teaching authority in the Church and ties it back to the archetypal incident of Adam and Eve: Eve was deceived and then was able to seduce her husband into sinning.
In modern times it may well be that St. Paul’s caution is affirmedby the modern problem of liberal Protestant denominations that have a large number of women leaders. These same denominations have departed significantly from the orthodox Christian faith, denying basic tenets of the Trinity, moral teaching, and biblical interpretation. This is not the only reason, but there seems to be a high correlation between denominations that embrace women leaders and a departure from orthodox Christian belief.
Have I been politically incorrect enough for you? Please feel free to leave your comments, but the chief focus I am interested in is the different descriptions of the “Sin of Adam” and Eve’s sin.
Last week we explored the creation accounts of Genesis, finishing with the account of original sin, that committed by Adam and Eve. Today and tomorrow I’d like to examine original sin more closely. Today, I’ll present the stages of sin that are manifested in Adam’s and Eve’s struggle.
Many tend to describe original sin merely as the eating of a forbidden fruit. While this accurate, it is incomplete and leads many to wonder why all this trouble came just from eating a piece of fruit. I believe it is helpful to consider the sin of Adam and Eve more richly. While the eating of the fruit is an external act, like any human act it proceeds from the heart and admits of some complexity.
I will use this passage from the Book of James to help frame our reflections. It describes the stages of sin:
Let no one say when he is tempted, “I am being tempted by God,” for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death (James 1:13-15).
From this, we can distinguish the following stages of sin:
The lure of temptation
The engagement of desire
The conception of sin
The birth of sin
Spiritual death
When we examine the sin of Adam and Eve we can see these stages at work.
Preamble – God had put Adam in the garden even before Eve was created:
The LORD God took the man and placed him in the Garden of Eden in order to have him work it and guard it. And the Lord God commanded the man, “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die” (Gen 2:15-17).
Adam’s task was to work the garden and also to guard (keep watch over) the Garden. There was also a boundary that God told Adam not to cross related to the tree. God does not explain why, but simply notes the danger and asks Adam to trust Him.
Adam is to tend, till, and trust. As we shall see, Adam fell short in two of these, and they are aspects of what we have come to call original sin.
1. The Lure of Temptation – The story opens with the description of the serpent, the most cunning of all the wild creatures God had made (Genesis 3:1). While most of us imagine a snake of some sort, that description is given only after God curses Satan, who is allegorically represented by this creature. Exactly what this creature looked like before the fall is not stated, and hence we need not imagine a talking snake. Whatever creature Satan made use of (or whatever creature the author of Genesis allegorically made use of), it is representative of the way in which Satan interacts with Eve.
Cunning and subtle, Satan uses intellectual arguments to appeal to aspects of what would later come to be called pride and sensuality. He also seeks to undermine her trust in God’s goodness.
Satan begins by attempting to make God seem unreasonable, suggesting that He had forbidden them to eat from any of the trees in the Garden. Eve easily deals with this temptation and dismisses it, correctly stating that it is only one tree that has been proscribed. This is a common tactic of Satan’s even today: presenting God as unreasonable, demanding too many things and forbidding too much. This accusation wholly ignores the fact that God has given incredible liberty to the human person, who, unlike any other creature except the Angels, is permitted to say no to God.
Satan’s second attack is more successful. He declares that God is not telling them the truth. In effect, he says that God (who has given them everything) is holding something very important back from them. Satan argues that God is restraining them from being the gods they deserve to be. In effect, he says, “Why do you let anyone have power over you? Why do you let anyone tell you what to do? Why do you not instead say, ‘I will do what I want to do and I will decide whether it is right or wrong’?” Satan appeals to their incredible pride by saying, “You will be gods!”
And thus Eve is in the first stage of sin, the lure of temptation. One may well wonder where Adam is. Satan has been talking to Eve, but where is Adam? The text says that he is right there with her! (Gen 3:6)
Now here’s a problem integral to Adam’s sin. He was told, among other things, to guard the garden, to keep watch over it. It is arguable whether he could have prevented Satan from being there at all (he probably could not), but surely he could have tried to protect and guard his wife! Satan is there and Adam says and does nothing. He does not try to ward off the evil one, nor does he assist his wife in resisting the tempting thoughts. No, he stands quietly by. Adam is a passive husband here.
As the head of his family, Adam was obligated to come to his wife’s aid, to protect her, to assist her in this grave temptation and threat. But the text reports him doing nothing but standing quietly by. Indeed, Adam is so unobtrusive that when I point out the sixth verse, which says he was with Eve, people are surprised. Even many a passive husband would intervene if he were to see some strange individual speaking to his wife.
“But Father, but Father! Are you saying that Adam already sinned even before original sin was committed?” No, not necessarily. The point here is that original sin is more complicated than merely biting into a piece of fruit. Like many sins, it has layers. Adam may not yet have sinned, but his silence is surely puzzling; indeed, it is troubling. It is not a sin to be tempted (even Jesus was tempted), but to do nothing in the face of temptation is to at least open the door to the next stage of sin.
2. The Engagement of Desire – The text says, the woman saw the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise (Genesis 3:6).
Temptation is a thought that either occurs to us or is presented to us by another. If I were to say to you, “Why don’t we go down to the corner store and rob it?” I have simply presented you with a thought or proposed course of action, which may or may not appeal to you. Temptation of itself is merely a thought.
In the second stage of sin, the tempting thoughts of Satan stir up Eve’s desires. The fruit engages her sensual desires; it looks tasty and delights the eyes. It also engages her intellectual desires, for it has been described to her as a source of empowering wisdom.
Thus, temptation moves from being a mere thought to becoming a kind of force or power. Eve’s desires have been engaged and ignited. Things are a bit more difficult. A purely intellectual response will not be enough, the will must be engaged in such a way that the desires can be curbed and subject to truth and right reason. Either she will obey God (who has given her everything) and thus decide reasonably, or she will yield to temptation and desire and decide to accept the proposal of Satan, who has given her nothing except an appeal to her sensuality and pride.
Again, note the silence of Adam. How tragic this is! Eve seems quite alone and without support. One would hope that in any marriage in which one spouse is struggling, the other will be strong. Adam remains silent. He is no leader. He seems to wait to see what his wife will do. Adam is a passive husband.
3. The Conception of Sin – The text simply says, she took of its fruit (Genesis 3:6). In reaching out to take hold and possess this fruit, Eve conceives sin in her heart. Her husband will do the same thing, taking hold of it before he eats it.
What are they taking hold of? Several things.
First, there is a colossal pride. Satan had said, “You will be gods.” Now, Adam and Eve are laying hold of and conceiving of this idea. They are laying hold of the prideful and rebellious notion that “I will do what I want to do and I will decide whether it is right or wrong. I will be under no one’s authority. I will do as I please. I answer to no one. I am god.”
They also sin against gratitude. God had given them everything, but even paradise was not enough for them; they wanted more. Ungratefully, they reject God, who has given them everything. They turn to Satan, who “promises” more, but has delivered nothing.
Finally, and most problematically, they sin against trust. Note that the tree is called “The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.” In the Bible, “knowing” refers to more than simple intellectual knowing; it means knowing something by experience. Thus, in naming this tree “The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil” and commanding them to stay away from it, God is saying,
I am asking you to trust me to tell you what is good and what is evil, and not to demand to know this personally for yourselves. I want you to trust me, and that I tell you this for your own good. But if you take from that tree, you are insisting on knowing for yourself what is good and what is evil; and more importantly, you are insisting on knowing and experiencing evil.
In this way, Adam and Eve refuse to trust God, insisting on knowing (experiencing) for themselves the difference between good and evil. The Catechism describes original sin in this manner:
Man, tempted by the devil, let his trust in his Creator die in his heart and, abusing his freedom, disobeyed God’s command. This is what man’s first sin consisted of. All subsequent sin would be disobedience toward God and lack of trust in his goodness (CCC # 397).
So we see that at the heart of original sin (and all other sin) is a refusal to trust God, a refusal to trust in His goodness, and an abuse of our liberty.
All of this has been conceived in the heart of Adam and Eve as they lay hold of this fruit.
4. The Birth of Sin – Little needs to be said of this stage; the sin is engaged. Note that Eve eats first and then entices her husband to do so as well. I will discuss this topic further in tomorrow’s post, in which I will reflect on St. Paul’s commentary on the “Sin of Adam.” For today, suffice it to say that the sins of Adam and Eve are described somewhat differently. Eve is described as being deceived while Adam is described as being, in effect, seduced. Neither of them is without blame, but the nature of their temptation and the way in which their desires are engaged is different.
5. Spiritual Death – Adam and Eve do not immediately die a physical death; rather, they die spiritually. This is symbolized in many ways in the verses ahead.
As they become aware of their nakedness, they feel exposed, no longer innocent. They feel vulnerable and ashamed. Righteousness and integrity have died in their hearts. They are now “dis-integrated” and disoriented, turned away from God and turned in on themselves.
Most seriously, they are cut off from God, who is the source of their life. When God walks through the Garden at the usual time, they do not run to Him, but from Him; they are afraid. Having died spiritually and embraced the darkness, they now fear Him who is Life and Light. They cannot endure His presence.
Recriminations follow, and the prophecy of suffering, strife, and ultimately, death; the wages of sin is death. Had they been willing to trust Him, God would have spared them of this, but Adam and Eve wanted to know for themselves. Mysteriously, they sought a “better deal” than paradise, even knowing that its price would be death—so tragic, foolish, and horrifying!
Too often, original sin is reduced to the mere eating of a piece of fruit. In fact, far more was at stake and far more was going on beneath the surface in the subtleties of the story. There were many moving parts and numerous layers to the sad reality we call original sin.
One of the most common frustrations in the spiritual life is the fact that God often makes us wait. Many of our requests are made with an elevated sense of urgency. Frankly, we are in a big hurry about many things—but God is not. Although He could fix every problem in an instant, He does not, and He has His reasons for this.
