So, You Don't KNOW You're Saved? You've Got to Be A Catholic!

"So, you're not SURE of your salvation? You've got to be a Catholic!"

The person who says this typically starts shaking his or her head at this point, probably offering up a prayer for me. (Which, by the way, I'll gladly take!)

Just recently, this happened again--this time in the middle of a deep and profound discussion of the type that can only occur on Facebook. I was discussing a particular theological issue with an acquaintance online and, inevitably, when the discussion started to grind to a halt, my acquaintance pulled out this worn and tattered line and blasted it across the page. Apparently, for him, my admission, "I hope one day to be saved," was tantamount to admitting I'm not really a Christian.

"One that cannot even say whether they are saved or not," my friend wrote, "cannot even know whether the things they are speaking are from God."

So basically, by my admission that I don't know whether I will be saved in the end or not, I have, in my friend's mind, disqualified myself from any and all theological discussion. He concludes with "you are a Catholic, hook, line and sinker."

Well, before I bow out of any and all theological discussion, I would like folks who are fully confident that they WILL be saved at their death, to consider one thing--and hopefully, in so doing, realize my position with more clarity than they heretofore may have.

THE HYPOTHETICAL SITUATION
Let's consider the situation of a man--a Baptist Pastor. He's been a Pastor for 30 years. He's led countless souls to Christ. He's gone on mission projects. He goes door to door and hands tracts to Catholics and Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses and other cultists. He hums Amazing Grace during every single shower.

He's a Christian. He's living the Christian life. He loves his Lord and has given his heart to Christ.

But then, as sometimes happens, he spots a Sunday School teacher that looks really good in her thick, woolen ankle-length skirt. One thing leads to another and before you know it, he's fallen. The two have an affair. When they're caught, they're unrepentant. They LOVE each other after all. They break up their families, divorce and move in together. Slowly, over time, they turn their backs on Christianity and quit going to church, praying or worshipping at all. Then, one day, the ex-Pastor, while driving home from his job at the Supermarket, has an accident and dies.

What happens to that man? Is he still "saved?" What does his ex-congregation say?

Well, I was raised in a church where this happened (more or less) and I can tell you what that congregation said: They concluded, to a person, that the man--their pastor of 30 years--had never been a Christian in the first place. After all, once we're "saved"--once we give our heart to Christ for real, then Christ will not let us go--He will complete His good work in us and bring it to completion. Once we accept Him, we WILL be saved.

That's what my church believed. And so, when we were confronted with a situation (that, sadly, isn't uncommon in any of our churches), we need to deal with the logical fallout of our position. For my church (and many "once saved, always saved" adherents), the solution is to make the sweeping claim: So and So was never REALLY saved in the first place.

However, while seeming to solve the problem, this solution doesn't really work. Think of this: do we really believe that the pastor of 30 years, who led all those retreats and mission projects and altar calls believed that he himself was not saved? Do we really believe that all people who fall away from Christ before death truly spent their lives knowing they weren't really saved? Does that make any sense? Sure, some of them were frauds. But all of them?

No, reason will not allow us to claim that every single believer who's ever walked away from the faith, never thought they were saved in the first place. Surely, at least some--even just one--in all of history, truly believed he or she were saved only to find out "he or she wasn't".

And, if that's the case--if even one person in all of history truly believed he was saved only to fall away from Christ and discover, too late, at death that he really wasn't--then we have to wonder how sure is this "assurance"? Of how much value is our confidence when we can be tricked into believing something that's not true?

If the Pastor in our hypothetical situation thought he was saved, was sure he was saved, only to discover, when he walked away from Christ that he apparently wasn't, how can any of us know we will be saved? How can we know that there's not a moment, lurking in our future, where something will happen that will shake our faith and cause us to reject Christ and his promises? We can't.

THE CATHOLIC UNDERSTANDING
And that brings me to the Catholic understanding as I, still a non-Catholic, understand it: to simplify, salvation is a process. It's something that has happened, it's something that is happening and it's something that will happen in the future. (Catholic friends/readers feel free to comment and correct/adjust my explanation).

To put it another way: I am saved right now. Should I die right now, in this present condition of heart, at this moment, I am confident that I will be saved. However, the condition of my heart right now, is not necessarily the condition of my heart tomorrow. Hence, St. Paul's command to us to work out our salvation with fear and trembling--taking nothing for granted.

And that is what I'm trying to do with God's help: work out my salvation--staying true to Christ, relying on his Grace and Power and cooperating with Him--so that I can confidently hope that one day, I will be saved.

This is what Paul talks about with his race analogy--the marathon. The Christian life isn't about coasting. It's not about making a one-time decision and sitting back.

The Christian life is about running. It's about the journey and, most imporantly, it's about finishing. Christ told us to persevere, to remain in Him, to stay connected to the vine. That's why Paul writes, in 1 Corinthians 9:27:

but I buffet my body, and bring it into bondage: lest by any means, after that I have preached to others, I myself should be rejected.

Paul himself understands the importance not just of running, but of finishing. He works (with God's help) to stay true to Christ so that, in the end, he will not have preached to others only to be rejected himself. That doesn't sound like the language of a man who knows without a doubt that his salvation is a done-deal.

And this is exactly what the Catholic is saying when he expresses uncertainty about His salvation: We cannot see the future and therefore, cannot know how we will choose to respond to God. Yes, God is at work in us, but God has also given us the gift of free will. And that means we can reject Him. It means we can walk away from Him. Despite the wishes of John Calvin, God doesn't normatively exert an irresistable Grace. Certainly, nothing in this world outside of our own will can pull us away from Him, but the one aspect of our world that God has willingly relinquished dominion over is our free will.

He allows us the gift of choosing Him, so that, in the choosing, our love is authentic, rich and deep. However, the gift of choosing means we also have the option of rejecting. Just as we can make the good decision, the wise decision, so can we make the wrong one. God gives sufficient Grace to ALL people so that ALL people CAN choose to follow. But not all will. Likewise, once we choose to follow, we have to continue daily to choose to follow. Paul supports this when he writes to the Corinthians:

Now I would remind you, brothers, of the gospel I preached to you, which you received, in which you stand, and by which you are being saved, if you hold fast to the word I preached to you. (1 Corinthians 15:2)

Paul writes that we are "being saved" as long as we "hold fast to the word I preached to you." He doesn't say "you believed the word I preached and now are saved." No, IF we hold to the teaching, we will find ourselves "being saved." It's a process. It's the journey. It's the Christian life.

Catholics (and many Protestants as well) acknowledge this. They understand the very simple fact that we do not know the future and cannot know for certain what our final state of mind toward God will be. If we remain in God through life, we will indeed be saved. But there's the rub: none of us can know--with our finite minds--that we will continue to choose to remain in God.

That's why Paul would write, as we mentioned above, "work out your salvation with fear and trembling" (Philippians 2:12) That's why he encouraged us to "run so as to win the race" (1 Corinthians 9:24). That's why Jesus said, "only he who perseveres to the end will be saved" (Matthew 24:13).

Yes, Jesus said, we can KNOW we will be saved. And we can KNOW this--as long as we continue to persevere. What we cannot know, until we actually do it, day by day, is whether or not we'll persevere.

An Act of Consecration to the Sacred Heart of Jesus

An incredible prayer.

And can you imagine the joy in death if we truly lived our lives like this?

Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, I consecrate myself to Your Most Sacred Heart. Take possession of my whole being; transform me into Yourself. Make my hands Your hands, my feet Your feet, my heart Your heart. Let me see with Your eyes, listen with Your ears, speak with Your lips, love with Your heart, understand with Your mind, serve with Your will, and be dedicated with my whole being. Make me Your other self. Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, send me Your Holy Spirit to teach me to love You and to live through You, with You, in You and for You.

Come, Holy Spirit, make my body Your temple. Come, and abide with me forever. Give me the deepest love for the Sacred Heart of Jesus in order to serve Him with my whole heart, soul, mind and strength. Take possession of all my faculties of body and soul. Regulate all my passions: feelings and emotions. Take possession of my intellect, understanding and will; my memory and imagination. O Holy Spirit of Love, give me an abundance of Your efficacious graces. Give me the fullness of all the virtues; enrich my faith, strengthen my hope, increase my trust, and inflame my love. Give me the fullness of Your sevenfold gifts, fruits and beatitudes. Most Holy Trinity, make my soul Your sanctuary.

Teach Me Your Ways--A Little Ignatian Spirituality

Teach Me Your Ways

Teach me your way of looking at people:
as you glanced at Peter after his denial,
as you penetrated the heart of the rich young man
and the hearts of your disciples.

I would like to meet you as you really are,
since your image changes those with whom you
come into contact.

Remember John the Baptist’s first meeting with you?
And the centurion’s feeling of unworthiness?
And the amazement of all those who saw miracles
and other wonders?

How you impressed your disciples,
the rabble in the Garden of Olives,
Pilate and his wife
and the centurion at the foot of the cross. . . .

I would like to hear and be impressed
by your manner of speaking,
listening, for example, to your discourse in the
synagogue in Capharnaum
or the Sermon on the Mount where your audience
felt you “taught as one who has authority.”

—Pedro Arrupe, SJ

Changing the World

Sometimes it's easy to fall into the mindset that we're not accomplishing anything. I mean really, I do the marketing for a chain of paint stores based Holland, Michigan. And while I enjoy my job, am grateful for the work, and believe in the company...making stunning photoshop ads about paint and what it will do for your home isn't exactly earth-shattering stuff. It's definitely not the stuff of which dreams are made.

There was never a day in college where I walked into a class and thought..."someday, someday I'll "arrive". Oh, yeah...someday, I'll be making paint ads."

Nope. In college, I was going to be "Somebody" (capital "S"). I was going to do "Something" (capital "S"). In fact, that's why I didn't mind spending all that money: It was just a down payment on my future.

Yeah, then I graduated.

I don't remember exactly what happened, but somehow I ended up not being "Somebody" or even "somebody". Somehow I ended up not doing "Something".

Instead of the Esteemed Professor, the Accomplished Writer, the Philosopher, the Pastor, I ended up being the "Paint Guy": father of six, husband of one. The big dreams and the college-visions faded away into the reality of work-a-day life. And from time to time, it's easy to fall into the mindset, as I said earlier, that I'm not accomplishing anything. But then I found this from the Book of Sirach (one of those "extra" books in a Catholic Bible) and I realized I'm looking at things upside down:

Some [men] have left behind a name and men recount their praiseworthy deeds;
But of others there is no memory, for when they ceased, they ceased.
And they are as though they had not lived, they and their children after them.
Yet these also were godly men whose virtues have not been forgotten;
Their wealth remains in their families, their heritage with their descendants;
Through God's covenant with them their family endures, their posterity, for their sake.
And for all time their progeny will endure, their glory will never be blotted out;
Their bodies are peacefully laid away, but their name lives on and on.
At gatherings their wisdom is retold, and the assembly proclaims their praise.

--Sirach 44:8-15

Those verses and the sentiment they convey put everything in perspective. My job, my calling, my career isn't to be one of those guys who leave behind a name and deeds that men (and women) will be talking about.

But that's OK, because God still has a plan for me: He wants me to be the other kind of guy the passage talks about: you know, the one "of which there is no memory, for when they ceased, they ceased."

And while that seems like a bit of a downer at first, it's not really all that bad.

See, I've been put here on this earth to be a regular guy. To work a regular, sometimes boring, sometimes thankless, rarely glamorous job. To drive a little purple (yes, purple) 1996 Chevy Cavalier. To live in and someday own a little blue house in Zeeland.

And, to be the father of 6 children.

And that is the biggest, most important, most earth-shattering experience I can imagine. Five souls are entrusted to my care (one soul returned to God shortly after her birth). And it's my job--my vocation--my calling--to raise them so that, one day, they will step into an eternity with Christ.

If I can do that, with God's help, I won't care whether anybody knows I ever lived. I won't care that I never pulled that six-figure salary. I won't care that I drove a little purple girl car and never once owned a vehicle that looked manly. I won't care because my wealth will be in my family, my heritage will be in the descendants of my children.

I've got the chance, right now, to do something, to teach my kids something that will last well beyond my lifetime--something that can reach to my grandkids and the grandkids of my grandkids. I can pass on a faith--a real, living faith in our Lord. I can instill in them a desire to obey His commands and to love others in the same manner that He loved us. And in so doing, I have the chance to make an impact well beyond my already-determined number of years.

Some of us explode onto the scene and live huge lives, moving mountains, changing the world. Others live in the shadows of the shadows of those mountain-movers. But we can still change the world.