Looking at the Floor

Before we go to bed each night, we try to work our way, as a family, through the Daily Readings. (The daily readings are simply the scheduled Scripture passages read in Catholic Churches around the world on any given day).

Anyway, typically, one of the kids (we've got 5--all under 10) starts us off with a prayer and then we move into the passages for the day.

Tonight, my oldest son prayed and when he finished, before we started reading, I asked them a question:

"What do you think about when Caleb's praying?"

They all looked at me with that blank look that kids perfect sometime around the age of 3. They were hoping--I could tell--that the question was rhetorical and that I'd just move on. But I didn't--I pressed them: "what do you think about when Caleb--or anybody--is praying?"

Well, the answers came trickling in at that point and the basic concensus was that they closed their eyes and thought about what the person was saying.

Funny--that's what I do as well. I sit there, close my eyes, adopt a posture of thoughtfulness . . . and I think about what so and so is saying.

How empty.

We're talking to God. Creator of all things. The one who made the flowers, the grass, the fields and the trees. Birds. Air. Clouds. The earth, the universe, the galaxies. God who has existed from all times--no beginning, no end.

We're talking to God--the same God who created Adam and Eve, who walked in Eden, who spoke with Moses from the burning bush, who parted the Red Sea.

We're talking to the same God who spoke when Jesus came out of the water at his baptism and when he was transfigured.

We're also talking to our Lord, Christ, who walked this earth as a real man. Who had dirty, dusty feet and who, from time to time, smelled like sweat. Who bled real blood and died a real death for us on a very real cross.

The same Lord who rose from the dead three days later and offered his hands and feet and side to Thomas.

We're talking to the Holy Spirit who has worked in our world and in our lives from the dawn of time. The same Holy Spirit who descended upon Jesus like a dove, who inspired the writers of the Scriptures and who guided the leaders of the early Church and Christians through all ages.

We're talking to God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit.

We're talking to the Triune God.

And yet, that's not the miracle.

The miracle is: He's listening.

And yet, all my family apparently does is sit there. And act holy. And think about what someone else is saying.

We're standing at a window that peeks out into eternity and rather than stand on our tiptoes and peek through the glass, we're choosing to keep our eyes on the floor.

An Excerpt from Thomas Howard's "The Night is Far Spent"

The following essay was originally a lecture given at Gordon College by Thomas Howard on June 1995. Howard, according to his biography, was raised in a prominent Evangelical home (his sister is well-known author and former missionary Elisabeth Elliot), became Episcopalian in his mid-twenties, then entered the Catholic Church in 1985, at the age of fifty. Howard is a highly acclaimed writer and scholar, noted for his studies of Inklings C.S. Lewis.

My guess is that a great clutter of bric-a-brac swims into your imagination when you hear of Catholic spirituality: rosaries, holy water stoups, crucifixes, little plastic Saint Christophers for your dashboard, and laminated holy cards depicting pastel-tinted saints with their eyes cast soulfully up into the ozone, not to mention all the polychrome statues and banks of candles flickering in little red glass cups (there are even electric candles that have a bogus flicker).

My guess is also that I am addressing at least three groups of people all stirred in together here in this assembly. The biggest group of you would locate yourselves in that wing of Protestantism known as Evangelicalism and will have been brought up in Evangelical households. A second group will tell us, "I was a Catholic until I was fifteen, then I met Jesus", or "I was Catholic until I was seventeen, then I, became a Christian." A third group of you are Roman Catholic even as we speak and may possibly have discovered that some of your colleagues here are very far from satisfied that your Catholicism qualifies you as a Christian. There may also be a fourth group, namely, those of you who are trying to shuck off whatever remnants of the Christian religion are still clinging to you so that you can get on with your own agenda.

Let me see if I can throw any light on this topic of Catholic spirituality so that the whole array of us may grasp things in a fairly clear light.

Click here to read the rest of the essay (it's worth it!)

The Greatest Prophecy We've Never Read

One of the things I've most loved about this study of the Catholic faith is the additional books you get with every single Catholic Bible! It's almost like one of those TV special offers: "Buy the Bible today and we'll throw in not one, not two, but SEVEN extra books! That's SEVEN extra books for the same price you'd pay for a regular Protestant Bible!",

Two years ago, I wouldn't have cared about the "special offer". I didn't want their extra books--books undoubtedly tossed in to support those Crazy Catholic beliefs with which many of us Protestants are familiar.

Yet, when I started this study--to prove a Catholic friend wrong, by the way--I decided I needed to be fair and do some research into how these books became part of their Scriptures and why Catholics didn't clue as to the fact that their Bibles were bastardized versions of the original text.

Well, in my search I found something interesting: history (as it has in so many aspects of this search) had a different story to tell than what I had always believed. I discovered quite quickly that it was quite possible the Catholics didn't add the books, but that we took them out.

Well, that was enough to pique my interest. I picked up a Catholic Bible and I still remember nervously cracking it open. I felt that even reading it was somehow blasphemous. And yet, I resolved to at least give it a try. I flipped it open and the first unfamiliar book I found was the Book of Wisdom, written in the 1st or 2nd Century BC. The first passage I read was this one from Chapter 2 in which the writer refers to the "Just Man" and the people who don't accept him:

13[The just man] boasteth that he hath the knowledge of God, and calleth himself the son of God. 14He is become a censurer of our thoughts. 15He is grievous unto us, even to behold: for his life is not like other men's, and his ways are very different. 16We are esteemed by him as triflers, and he abstaineth from our ways as from filthiness, and he preferreth the latter end of the just, and glorieth that he hath God for his father. 17Let us see then if his words be true, and let us prove what shall happen to him, and we shall know what his end shall be. 18For if he be the true son of God, he will defend him, and will deliver him from the hands of his enemies. 19Let us examine him by outrages and tortures, that we may know his meekness, and try his patience. 20Let us condemn him to a most shameful death: for there shall be respect had unto him by his words. 21These things they thought, and were deceived: for their own malice blinded them.

I remember reading that and thinking "what the heck?" These books were supposed to contain weird Catholic beliefs--you know, stuff about eating babies and statue worship and yet here was probably the most vivid prophecy concerning the death of Christ contained in the Bible.

In a future post, I'll try to lay out some of the history behind the different versions of the Catholic and Protestant Bibles. As for now, I just wanted to share something I'm betting 99% of my Protestant friends and family have never read....

Jesus Knew How We'd Take It And He Still Said It

It's important to remember who Jesus is. He is human, yes, but also God. A prophet. The Prophet. Jesus is one in being with the Father. As He Himself says, "I and the Father are one" (John 10:30).

We know that He had a tremendous knowledge of events that were to come and John writes that "He was in the beginning with God; all things were made through Him, and without Him was not anything made that was made" (John 1:1-2).

Jesus is one with the Father. He was with the Father from the beginning. Jesus is, in every way, God. That's Christianity.

And God, as we know, knows all. He's not bound by the constraints of time. All things are NOW to God. He's omniscient. That's why Paul could write "for those whom he foreknew, he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the first-born among many brethren" (Romans 8:29).

Jesus, being one with God in nature, shares this ability. Jesus, in the beginning, was with God (John 1:1) and knew all that God knew. Sure, Jesus apparently gave up some of this knowledge temporarily when he became human (He admitted He didn't know when the last day would be--that only the Father knew). But Jesus also acknowledged "I did not speak on my own, but the Father who sent me commanded me what to say and speak. And I know that his commandment is eternal life. So what I say, I say as the Father told me” (John 12:49-50).

One of these things Jesus said "as the Father told him" was the well-known "you must eat my flesh and drink my blood" command in John 6.

We need to stop and think about that for a moment: When Jesus entered heaven after His ascension, He and God didn't get together, take note of how the early Church was interpreting Jesus' words literally, and conclude "Well, we blew that. We probably should have been a little more clear--probably shouldn't have been sooooo in love with the metaphor. Oh well, eventually--millions of souls later--we'll send some Reformers to straighten things out and get the Church back on track regarding that bread and wine thing."

Jesus knew ahead of time the impact those words would have on the Church through the first 14 or so centuries of Christianity and yet, He didn't temper them. He didn't soften them. He didn't retract them or clarify them when He was confronted except to stress the literal interpretation even more strongly.

Jesus had the ULTIMATE opportunity as a speaker and teacher: He had the ability to know ahead of time--an eternity ahead of time--how people at any given point in time would understand His words. He had an eternity to fine-tune, to hone His message.

And with all of that foreknowledge, that time, Jesus said what He said. And He did so KNOWING fully how it would be interpreted by the vast majority of Christianity. So, either Jesus was fully cool with the vast majority of Christian history misunderstanding (and blaspheming) His teachings, or . . . He said what He said because He KNEW the Church would get it right....

The Authority to Forgive Sins

In the midst of this study of the Catholic Faith and an examination of my own beliefs, I've run into Scripture passage after Scripture passage for which my former/current (I'm still journeying, afterall) tradition offers me no good explanation.

For example, here's a passage I've read hundreds of times and yet I never once caught the ending of it until just recently when I looked at it with a Catholic understanding.

The passage is Matthew 9:1-8. Read it and see if the last line surprises you or not. I'm betting that some of you at least will leave the computer and go check it against your own Bibles--just to make sure I haven't toyed with the wording. (That's the first thing I did when I stumbled upon it on a Catholic website explaining the Biblical roots for the Sacrament of Reconciliation).

Anyway, here it is:

And getting into a boat he crossed over and came to his own city. And behold, they brought to him a paralytic, lying on his bed; and when Jesus saw their faith he said to the paralytic, "Take heart, my son; your sins are forgiven."

And behold, some of the scribes said to themselves, "This man is blaspheming."

But Jesus, knowing their thoughts, said, "Why do you think evil in your hearts? For which is easier, to say, 'Your sins are forgiven,' or to say, 'Rise and walk'? But that you may know that the Son of man has authority on earth to forgive sins"--he then said to the paralytic--"Rise, take up your bed and go home."

And he rose and went home.

When the crowds saw it, they were afraid, and they glorified God, who had given such authority to men. Matthew 9:1-8

The word that caught me off guard is the last one: "men". Matthew clearly writes that the people were amazed that God gave this authority--the power to forgive sins if we read back a verse or two--to MEN. In the plural.

If you do a parallel study of multiple translations, you'll find there's no getting around it. This or that particular translation may opt for the phrase "people" or "human beings" or "men", but whatever word is selected, that word is always plural.

Now, when Matthew, guided by the Holy Spirit, wrote the words "they glorified God, who had given such authority to men," what do we think he was talking about? Is there any point in the history of Christianity--any point in recorded Scripture--in which God gave men--not a man, not just Jesus, but MEN--the authority to forgive sins?

Well, I can only think of one, John 20:21-23 which reads:

Then said Jesus to them again, "Peace be unto you: as my Father hath sent me, even so send I you." And when he had said this, he breathed on them, and saith unto them, "Receive ye the Holy Ghost: Whose soever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them; and whose soever sins ye retain, they are retained."

This is the foundation of the Catholic understanding of Confession--the Sacrament of Reconciliation. And this is just a beginning introduction. The verses need to be weighed and parsed and history needs to be consulted before any kind of understanding one way or another can be reached. And I'll do my best to get to that later.

But for now, I wanted to throw it out there because it shows that while Protestants may disagree with Catholic theology regarding confession, they really can't honestly claim that there's no Biblical support for it.

Stop Quoting the Church Fathers, They're Not Scripture!

Often, when I write about the Church Fathers, the following statement arises: Why bother quoting these people? They're not authoritative. Their writings aren't scripture. Whatever they said about this or that is worthless if it's not clearly taught in the Bible.

Well, I bother quoting from the early Church Fathers for a number of reasons:

• FIRSTHAND WITNESSES. Many of the Early Church Fathers were taught by the Apostles (or, at least, were taught by people who were taught by the Apostles). No historian worth his weight would throw out the testimony of firsthand and secondhand witnesses. This testimony provides valuable information into HOW the Apostles understood Scripture and HOW the Apostles taught certain doctrines. Scripture doesn't interpret itself and many passages allow multiple interpretations (just look at the Catholic/Protestant debate as well as all the different sects within Protestantism). Since multiple interpretations are possible, I would think any true Bible scholar would be interested in how the people closest to the Apostles actually understood these teachings.

• NO LANGUAGE BARRIER. Another reason to look at the writings of the Church Fathers is that these men literally spoke the language in which the New Testament was written. We rely on interpretations and lexicons. They could pick up an original text and read it with understanding. No nuance of the text, which for us can be lost in the translation, was hidden from them.
  

• UNDERSTANDING of TRADITIONS. The early Church Fathers grew up amongst the traditions of the Jewish culture. The same traditions that underlie the New Testament. They were aware of them. They made sense to them. We on the other hand, have an outsider's understanding of these traditions. An example is the Jewish understanding of the Passover. Understanding these traditions suddenly makes it clear WHY the early church understood Jesus' words "This is my body" to be literal. We miss this because we have no concept of the tradition in which it's steeped.

• THE FIRST BIBLE COMMENTARIES. Finally, few Bible scholars today would think of examining a passage of scripture, especially a complicated or troublesome passage, without referring to one or more of the countless Bible Commentaries available on the market. A trip to the local Christian bookstore reveals hundreds of these works on the shelves. And countless pastors and theologians make use of them. And yet, while making use of these Bible Commentaries written by men 2000 years after the fact, we would think to disregard the Biblical analysis of Christian writers who lived just decades after Christ walked he earth?
  

These are just a few reasons why the writings of the Church Fathers are valuable. No, their writings aren't scripture, but they provide insight that simply can't be found anywhere else as to the authentic interpretation of Scripture and the life and times of the early Church. We can ignore them, but to do so is to ignore history in favor of something of our own creation.

Confession to a Priest Made Up in 1215 AD? History says "No"

No examination of the claims of the Catholic Church would be complete without a look at what Catholics call the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Or Penance. Or Confession. To a priest.

When I dug into it, one of the claims that seems to cycle over and over throughout Protestant literature is a claim made by one of THE standard texts on Roman Catholicism: Lorraine Boettner's Roman Catholicism. Almost everything I've run into on the internet or in print that attempts to rebut Catholic claims stems from or at least draws from Boettner's book.

In regards to confession to a priest, Boettner writes:

"It is equally impossible to find any authorization or general practice of it during the first one thousand years of the Christian era. Not a word is found in the writings of the early church fathers about confessing sins to a priest or to anyone except God alone. Auricular confession is not mentioned in the writings of Augustine, Origen, Nestorius, Tertullian, Jerome, Chrysostom, or Athanasius -- all of these and many others apparently lived and died without ever thinking of going to confession. Those writers give many rules concerning the practice and duties of Christian living; but they never say a word about going to confession." (p. 199)

Boettner's claims are another good example of something I've seen over and over in this search: poor research (at best) or intentional misdirection (at worst). The claims Boettner makes have been picked up and spread throughout the Protestant world and they're accepted as gospel truth. Unfortunately, they're completely false. Utterly and completely false. There's just no other way to say it.

For example, Boettner makes a bold claim: "In the first 1000 years of the Christian era . . . [n]ot a WORD is found in the writings of the early church fathers about confessing sins to a priest OR TO ANYONE except God alone."

It's important to note that Boettner said there's no reference to confession to priests or to ANYONE except God alone. He's extremely specific in his claims and, at least for me, his authoritative manner was convincing. I figured no one would go so far, would be so specific unless he was right. Well, I dug into it anyway, just for my own sake. And I quickly realized Boettner might not be a terribly devoted researcher of history.

See, almost immediately in trying to back up his claims, I found this in the writings of St. Ireneaus (180 - 199AD):

[The gnostic disciples of Marcus] have deluded many women in our own district of the Rhone, by saying and doing such things. Their consciences branded as with a hot iron, some of these women make a public confession; but others are ashamed to do this, and in silence, as if withdrawing from themselves the hope of the life of God, they either apostatize entirely or hesitate between the two courses.

This writing is from the years 180 - 199AD. It's written by St. Ireneaus who was trained by St. Polycarp who himself was a hearer of the Apostle John. With these credentials, Ireneaus makes clear mention to certain women making a PUBLIC CONFESSION.

But he's not the only one. Tertullian, (one of the men Boettner lists as writing nothing whatsoever about confession to anyone other than God) writes in 203 AD:

How very grand is the reward of modesty, which the concealing of our sin promises! If in fact we conceal something from the notice of men, shall we at the same time hide it from God? Are, then, the good opinion of men and the knowledge of God to be equated? Is it better to be damned in secret than to be absolved in public? 'But it is a miserable thing thus to come to confession!' Yes, evil leads to misery. But where there is repentence misery ceases, because it is thereby turned to salvation. (Tertullian, Repentance, Ch.10)

Tertullian starts with sarcasm, asking how great the reward of modesty is when we conceal our sins. He then goes on to attack that claim and asks if it's better to be damned in secret than absolved in public? This certainly suggests that Tertullian was familiar with something other than Boettner's "confession to God alone" in the privacy of our own heart.

However, if there were any doubts, Tertullian makes a rhetorical argument: "But it's no fun going to confession!" Rather than console the objector with promises of secret, private confession to God, Tertullian instead basically says "Yeah, I know. But evil leads to misery. But where there's repentance (implication is obviously public confession) misery comes to an end."

Moving on, Origen (another writer cited by Boettner as saying not a word about Confession) writes in 240 AD:

If however, a man in such a circumstance becomes his own accuser, as soon as he accuses himself and confesses, he vomits out his fault and puts in order what was the whole cause of his illness.

Now, we could argue that Origen is talking about private confession to God alone. Except, the very next sentence immediately following the preceding, reads as such:

Only be careful and circumspect in regard to whom you would confess your sins. Test first the physician to whom you would expose the cause of your illness.... When he has shown himself to be a physician both learned and merciful, do whatever he might tell you, and follow whatever counsel he may give (Origen, Homilies on the Psalms, Homily 2).

Well, that is certainly starting to sound a lot like the Catholic concept of Confession--and it's from another writer that Boettner claimed said NOTHING about confessing to ANYBODY other than God.

Already, we've seen that Boettner's research is questionable as are his motives. Either he wasn't aware of these writings (and therefore shouldn't be writing so confidently), or, he was aware and just chose to leave them unmentioned because he knew it was relatively unlikely that his readers would dig into the original documents and discover the truth.

However, we're not done. We've seen that public confession--just from these few quotes--was practiced in the early church. Now, let's find out if there's any mention of confession to a PRIEST before Boettner's cutoff date of 1000 AD.

Here's another quote from Origen from the year 244 AD:

In addition to these there is also a seventh, albeit hard and laborious: the remission of sins through penance, when the sinner washes his pillow in tears, when his tears are day and night his nourishment, and when he does not shrink from declaring his sin to a priest of the Lord and from seeking medicine (Origen, Homilies on Leviticus, Homily 2).

It's interesting to note Origen's use of the concept of "medicine" coming from the priest. This "medical" motif makes the earlier quote from Origen--that about confessing to a Physician--most likely supportive of the concept of confessing to a Priest as well.

More references to Priestly Confession abound. This one from St. Cyprian of Carthage from the year 251 AD:

Finally, of how much greater faith and more salutary fear are they who, though bound by no crime of sacrifice or certificate, but since they did take thought of doing such a thing, confess even this to the priests of God in a straightforward manner and in sorrow, making an open declaration of conscience (St. Cyprian, On the Lapsed, Ch.28).

I could go on and on. I've quoted nothing later than 251 AD. If we looked to later documents, we'd find even more clear references both to Public Confession and then, more commonly, Private Confession to a Priest.

Now, I admit, this doesn't PROVE that the Catholic Church is right in their understanding of Confession to a Priest--that's a topic for another day. My intent today was to show again that the information out there is sketchy and that the reader should be careful about what he or she reads.

Boettner claimed boldly in his anti-Catholic book that "Auricular Confession of sins to a priest instead of to God [was] instituted by pope Innocent III, in ... 1215 AD (Boettner, Roman Catholicism, pp. 7-9). He later claims as we mentioned above, that there was no mention of Confession to anyone but God. Yet, just a few minutes of internet-based research proves his claims are false.

The Pope Shows Up A Couple Hundred Years Early

One of the most frustrating things I've found in my exploration into Catholicism is the apparent lack of scholarly (at best) or honest (at worst) work when it comes to those refuting the claims of the Catholic Church. Now, that's not to say that the Catholic Church is right and that Protestants are wrong. I'm simply saying that when I look for information, I'm finding half-truths that can only be explained by poor research or a convenient hiding of the evidence.

To provide an example, let's look at a quote from Earle Cairns' book Christianity Through the Centuries. This text was handed to me by a co-worker who used the book in college-level religion classes. My co-worker was using the information in the book to dissuade me from my perilous journey into the world of Rosaries and Incense and Holy Water and he specifically directed me to several quotes--quotes he felt would bring me back into the fold, back to my Protestant roots.

One quote in particular he brought to my attention was concerning the Primacy of the Bishop of Rome (who we call today, the Pope). Here's the quote from Cairns' book:

Between 313 and 590, the Old Catholic Church, in which each bishop had been an equal, became the Roman Catholic Church, in which the bishop of Rome won primacy over the other bishops.... The bishop in the early church was considered one of many bishops who were equal in rank, power and function.... But beginning with Leo I's accession to the episcopal throne in 440, the Roman bishop began to claim his supremacy over other bishops.

So, according to Cairns, the Old (that is, the good) Catholic Church saw every bishop as an equal. There was no single bishop over all--no "Pope". All bishops exercised the same authority and power and function. In fact, it wasn't until Pope Leo I, in 440 AD, that the Roman bishop started to exert a role of power or supremacy over the other bishops.

Well, the quote sounds good. It sounds impressive. Cairns' wrote the stuff in a real book. He gives dates and names and he sounds very honest and scholarly. But, his claims simply aren't true. Or, at the very least, they're EXTREMELY debatable.

I've written a much longer rebuttal to the claim that can be found here, but really, to establish that the good Mr. Cairns' is either a half-hearted scholar, or worst, a bit of a sneak, we only need to look at a couple of quotes.

The first (not the first chronologically--see the longer work for ealier references) is from St. Ireneaus (140 - 202 AD). In his Adversus Haeresies, in Chapter 3 he writes about the Primacy of the Church in Rome saying that while it would take too long to enumerate the succession of bishops in ALL the churches, he will make his case by pointing out here:

the successions of the bishops of the greatest and most ancient Church known to all, founded and organized at Rome by the two most glorious Apostles, Peter and Paul, that Church which has the tradition and the faith which comes down to us after having been announced to men by the Apostles. For with this Church, because of its superior origin, all Churches must agree, that is, all the faithful in the whole world; and it is in her that the faithful everywhere have maintained the Apostolic tradition.

He doesn't have time to list all the bishops throuhgout Christendom so he'll list the bishops of the most ancient Church known to all. This is a very clear, very straight-forward example from the years 180 - 199 AD that the Church in Rome was considered superior to all others, that this church was regarded as being the most ancient and the greatest. It's proof of the existence of an idea that Cairns' claims surfaces much later in history: that all Churches in the world must agree with this church.

Now, I'll admit that Cairns' claim is regarding the BISHOP of Rome and that he didn't rise to power until later. This quote merely shows that the CHURCH in Rome held a position of primacy. But what I'm trying to show is that very clearly, sometime before the year 202 AD, the CHURCH of Rome was viewed as THE superior Church in the Christian world. At that point, we're only a hop, skip and a jump away from seeing that the Bishop of Rome would likewise hold a place of primacy.

But, a "hop, skip and a jump" isn't proof. So, let's move into the world of facts and prove that not only was the Church of Rome viewed as superior by the Christian world well before 440 AD, but that so also was her Bishop. And to see this, we need to look at one more quote--this one from Tertullian.

Now, Tertullian is an interesting case. He died a heretic (as far as we know), but his beginning years were Catholic. In his treatise on Modesty (AD 220), during Tertullian's Montanist period, he makes an interesting attack on the current Bishop of Rome, Callistus I. This attack is a powerful proof for the authority of the primacy of the Bishop of Rome largely because Tertullian was, at that point, no friend of Rome. Therefore, he had nothing to gain by falsifying Callistus' position.

To provide some quick background: Tertullian clashed with Pope Callistus over Callistus' relaxation of the Church's disciplinary procedures. See, Callistus, citing his Petrine authority to "bind and loosen"(which provides evidence of the Primacy of Peter in the early church), allowed repentant adulterers and fornicators back into the Church.

Tertullian, not wanting to let these folks back in (I'm oversimplifying here), was angered and responded with this:

"I hear that there has even been an edict sent forth, and a peremptory one too. The 'Pontifex Maximus,' that is the 'bishop of bishops,' issues an edict: 'I remit, to such as have discharged [the requirements of] repentance, the sins both of adultery and of fornication.' O edict, on which cannot be inscribed, 'Good deed!' ...Far, far from Christ's betrothed be such a proclamation!"

He sarcastically attacks Callistus as the "Bishop of Bishops" and the "Pontifex Maximus", but it doesn't take much sense to realize that the barb has no bite if Callistus wasn't widely held to hold a higher level of authority than all other Bishops. At the very least, we must acknowledge that Callistus himself must have felt he had more authority, because without that acknowledgment, the sarcasm fails miserably.

Secondly, moving past Tertullian's sarcasm, we should also note the Bishop of Rome issues an edict to let these repentant sinners back into THE Church. Not just back into HIS Church in Rome, but back into THE worldwide Church. Who is he to do that if, as Cairns' claims, he is in the same position of power as any other bishop throughout the Christian world?

Now, these are only two quotes, but as I mentioned earlier, there are plenty more. This is a blog and not a book, so I've attached the longer document with a much more thorough examination here for those interested enough to look. But even though these two quotes are short and simple and by no means conclusive, they are enough to call Cairns' claims into question.

To say definitively that there was no Primacy of Rome, no superior position held by the Bishop of Rome until Pope Leo "made it up in the mid 400's" just doesn't seem to wash with the real, historical evidence. And that leads me to conclude, as I mentioned earlier, that Cairns is either a poor scholar or a selective reporter. And sadly, this is the state of much of what I'm finding out there.

Symbolic or Real? St. Ireneaus Weighs In On Jesus In The Eucharist

What did the early Church Fathers think about the Eucharist? Did they think the bread of the Lord's Supper was merely a symbol of the Lord's body? That the wine was just a good way to remember that Jesus shed his real blood for us? Or, did they think the bread really became His body and the wine His blood? In short, did they hold to a Protestant interpretation or something more decidedly Catholic?

Here's a short quote from St. Ireneaus from his Adversus Haereses written sometime between 180 and 199 AD. However, first let me quickly explain that St. Ireneaus was the second Bishop of Lyons and had been a pupil, while a young man, of St. Polycarp. (St. Polycarp, just to put it all in perspective, is considered an Apostolic Church Father since he had been a hearer of the Apostle John).

Here's the quote:

If the Lord were from other than the Father, how could He rightly take bread, which is of the same creation as our own, and confess it to be His body, and affirm that the mixture in the cup is His blood? (Adversus Haereses, 4, 33, 2)

That's it. A short quote, but one that's remarkably profound in meaning. In this quote, St. Ireneaus makes it perfectly clear that he is not talking about any kind of mere "symbolic" presence of Jesus. The bread doesn't "represent" Jesus' body. It doesn't "symbolize" Jesus' body. It doesn't provide us with an amazing visual of how Jesus' body was broken for us.

No, according to Ireneaus--as early as the year 180 AD--the bread literally WAS the body of the Lord.

And we see this when we look at the logic of his argument: If Jesus didn't come from God, St. Ireneaus is saying, then how in the world could he take bread and confess it to be his body? If He wasn't from God, how could he say the mixture in the cup was His blood?

Ireneaus' argument only makes sense if he is assuming that the bread truly becomes Jesus' literal body and the wine His blood. Ireneaus' words mean nothing if he adopted a Protestant mindset about Christ's body figuratively being represented by the bread.

If he thought the Eucharist a merely symbolic representation of Christ's body (as most of us Protestants do), his argument could be summarized as such: if the Lord wasn't from God, the Father, then He couldn't say that bread figuratively represented His body.

And it doesn't take too much study or understanding to see that that statement doesn't make a lot of sense. No, there can be no merely symbolic Christ in the Eucharist for Ireneaus because ANYBODY can hold up a hunk of bread and say "this symbolizes my body." Any one of us could hold up a glass of wine and say "this is very much like my blood." However, only God could work such a miracle as to take those common elements and actually MAKE them into His body and blood. Hence his argument that Jesus HAD to be from the Father.

Now, it's important to point out that just because St. Ireneaus thought the Eucharist was Jesus' body and blood doesn't mean it really is. The writings of St. Ireneaus, while important and useful, are not necessarily inspired and are definitely not considered "scripture."

However, it is also important to understand and come to terms with the reality that many of us Protestants have been taught a tradition that might not be as true as we think. For me, that's definitely the case. I've been taught that the Protestant Church is more "authentic." That it's more like the church of the Apostles. I've read over and over that the early Protestant Reformers scraped away the barnacles that accumulated on the hull after Christianity became a "sanctioned" religion under Constantine.

And yet here we have solid proof--and believe me, there's much more where this came from--that the second and third generation Christians (and the Christians who taught them) believed in a very Catholic understanding of the Eucharist.

Mother's Day

This past Mother's Day, my family and I were in Church and we listened to a great sermon about mothers. We heard, among other things that:

--"Our mothers gave us life."

--"They are a treasure God has given us."

--"Failing to honor and respect them is failing to do as we are commanded by God."

Also, we were urged to:

--"Lift our mothers up"

and

--"Find a "substitute" mother to honor if our own Mother has passed away."

As I said, it was a great sermon--reminded us of what our mothers mean to us and also of the duty we have to honor them. It was entirely fitting for Mother's Day. Not one person in that sanctuary looked offended. Not one person thought we had taken away from God any glory.

Yet I thought that it was remarkable that while it's perfectly alright and commendable (and expected) to honor our mothers, two years ago, I would have felt that to do the same with Mary the Mother of Jesus would be blasphemous, improper, impious, and/or idolatrous.

Funny how things change....

What's the Cause: Celibacy or Sin?

ARGUMENT: The Priestly Celibacy requirement is responsible for Priests molesting children. Some people are called to a celibate life and therefore receive the gift from God. Others aren’t given that gift and end up trying to be celibate in the priesthood, but find they can’t hold to that requirement. In the end, they satisfy their natural urges by abusing children. If the Catholic Church would lift this requirement, many children would be protected.

First off, let’s establish something: Eastern Rite Catholics don't require celibacy. Celibacy in the Western Rite is not a declared Dogma--it's a practice, a discipline. It could, potentially, be overturned (though this is most unlikely).

The idea of celibacy comes from a long line of Biblical examples, of which Jesus was the foremost. Priests are encouraged to be celibate so they can focus on the family of God and not be pulled in a thousand different directions by their own family responsibilities--it's just as Paul writes "I wish all men could be like me...."

The point is to free the Priest up to fulfill his vocation to the fullest without sacrificing the needs of his family. Also, there are married priests--Anglican Priests for example, who convert to Catholicism are allowed to maintain their priesthood while remaining married.

Secondly, let’s look at the logic of the argument. At first, it seems to make sense--it seems to be a valid argument, but when we look at it and weigh it, we quickly see that it doesn’t hold water.

Let’s start with the accusation: the Catholic Church has a problem with children being molested by Priests because the Priests were forced into celibacy but weren't called to a celibate life. These men couldn't live up to the requirement (without having the gift of celibacy) and therefore started molesting children.

That’s the argument. Now, according to this logic, these same people would have apparently been fine, upstanding members of society if they had been allowed to marry. After all, the argument is against celibacy. So, if they had been allowed to marry, so the argument goes, their sexual desires would be satisfied by their wives and they would leave children alone.

Really? This would POSSIBLY make sense if these people were having sexual liassons with adult women. That is a natural sexual urge that these men would be satisfying in a natural manner. But that’s not what happened with the priestly sex scandal. (And, I’d argue that it’s not even a valid argument in and of itself.) The priestly sex scandal involved sexual abuse of children. And, sex with children is NOT a normal, natural sexual urge. Sex with little boys is even more repugnant.

These men who have committed these things are struggling with something we in the Christian world used to call SIN. It is SIN that makes a man rape a boy, not a celibacy requirement. SIN makes a man rape a girl--not a celibacy requirement. SIN makes a man lie, steal, oppress, injure, use and abuse others.

The argument that celibacy CAUSED the problem is, frankly, misguided. And it can be proven in a matter of seconds with this: If celibacy is causally related to the rape and molestation of children--CAUSALLY RELATED--then we would owe it to our children to round up all singles. But that’s taking it too far. Rather than rounding up ALL singles, we should instead round up only those who are living according to biblical standards and are not engaging in pre-marital sex. These are the people who are the ticking time bombs according to our argument against celibacy. These are the predators who are apparently just looking for a chance to start raping and molesting children. If they’d only abandon their moral stance against pre-marital sex and slake their lust, then maybe they’d be capable of working near children without molesting them--but as long as they remain pure, they’re dangerous.

Does that make any sense? ALL single, celibate, people are predators? The neighbor guy across the street? The young, unmarried teacher? They’re all predators? And not because they might have disordered desires, but because they are living their life without sex?

It sounds ridiculous, but that’s exactly what we’re saying when we argue that the Celibacy requirement CAUSED the abuse scandal. Because these men couldn’t have sex, they found it necessary to rape children? And, conversely, if they’d been allowed to have sex, then they’d be free from the “driving need” to rape children.

Let’s think that through for a second: If the priests were willing to break their celibacy vows and RAPE A CHILD--why wouldn’t they have instead satisfied their urges by having affairs with adult women? I mean, an affair with an adult woman is bad for the ministry, but it’s not illegal. There’s far less danger in releasing your “pent up frustrations” that way than in raping children. Why didn’t these oppressed priests do that?

They didn’t seek relationships with women because they were homosexuals and were drawn to young boys. Period. This is a problem and needs to be snuffed out completely and severely--but it’s not a result of a Celibacy Requirement. It’s SIN. Pure and simple.