a beautiful thing

Photo: Aviva by Kameel

The line wound its way out of the Mediterranean restaurant and wrapped around the corner. We took it as a good sign, and so we attached ourselves to the end and waited along with everyone else. The clientele were not just conference attendees, but locals, and no one seemed the least bit disturbed about the wait. Another good sign. Soon we found out why. A smiling hostess with a tray of samples worked her way down the line. "Lentil soup," she offered. "Try it. You'll see. It's good." The lilt of her accent told me that she would know, and her obvious joy in working there boded well. It was good.

Kameel Srouji (Photo: Aviva by Kameel)

Still, nothing could have prepared me for the personna behind the counter. A tastefully decorated wall had shielded our view of the food line until we rounded a corner just steps away. "Hello! Welcome to Aviva. How can I make you happy?" His booming voice filled the atmosphere with life, enthusiasm. His tall frame matched his voice. His sweeping movements made food service an art form. "Excellent choice. It's natural. It's fresh. It's delicious." The customer two ahead of us smiled his thanks and moved down the line. Again the voice boomed, "Welcome to Aviva. You're beautiful. I love you. I need a hug."

A hug? Doesn't that break some kind of food service code? Nevertheless, the businessman in front of us in line ducked around the counter into the kitchen area to hug the man who was larger than life. The chef's eyes twinkled. He lost no time in filling another plate. "Thank you. God bless you. Have a beautiful weekend."

I'm afraid I was a bit thrown, wondering if this was for real. (Is he saying "God bless you" because he heard that the Evangelical Theological Society is meeting next door? Did some study show that enthusiasm is good for business?) When I got to the cashier, I asked, "Is he always like this?" A big smile spread across her face. "Every day!"

Photo: Aviva by Kameel

The energy was palpable.
The food was delectable.

And so the next day, with another friend, I did my time in line again. Brittany had her kids along with her at the conference, and her mom came to watch them. So the five of us waited, tasted falafel, and rounded the corner.

The booming voice. "You came back! How can I make you happy today?" (How can he possibly remember me when he serves hundreds of customers every day? Is it because he looks every one of us in the eye and recognizes that we are made in the image of God?) I suspect so.

Brittany asked if there was something less spicy for her kids. "Ah! For the little ones. This one is on me. No charge. Tell me -- what do they like to eat?" He proceeded to pile a plate with falafel, shwarma, grilled vegetables, and hummus. "Your children are beautiful. Thank you for feeding them real food!"

Kameel's passion for food is obvious!
Photo: Aviva by Kameel

It is not every day that you meet someone who is happy at work, someone energized by their labor who does it with excellence. Kameel is one of those. And the entire restaurant pulsed with this life. It occurred to me then that people come to his restaurant for more than just calories. They pay for lunch and get love, kindness, affirmation. His passion for eating well and living well is contagious.

When I arrived home from Atlanta I was still thinking about Kameel. We found him online, smiling just the way I remembered. I also learned the source of his joy. Kameel is a Catholic believer from Nazareth, eager to share God's love with everyone he meets.

When we have the privilege of meeting someone who has "found their calling" in life it's a beautiful thing. In that moment we get a glimpse of God's creative and redeeming power at work in our midst. Kameel's passion rekindled my own passion to serve God wholeheartedly in my own corner of the world. Whether restaurant or classroom, office or farm, retail outlet or machine shop, when we're doing what we were born to do, and doing it well, He gets the glory.

"And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him." (Colossians 3:17)

Tuesday Tidbit: the wounds of a "friend"

Mark Noll is something of a legend at Wheaton College. Not too many years ago his office was 2 floors below the spot where I am sitting right now as I type this. From that basement room he wrote a book that dropped like a bomb on campus and sent tremors throughout the Evangelical world. The book was as shocking as it was painfully true.

Here's the opening line: "The scandal of the evangelical mind is that there is not much of an evangelical mind." Ouch.

He continues, "American evangelicals are not exemplary for their thinking, and they have not been so for several generations" (3). Noll includes the text of a dedicatory speech given by Charles Malik for the Billy Graham Center in 1980 (the building in which most of my classes have been held on campus). Malik minced no words: "The greatest danger besetting American Evangelical Christianity is the danger of anti-intellectualism. . . . People are in a hurry to get out of the university and start earning money or serving the church or preaching the Gospel. They have no idea of the infinite value of spending years of leisure in conversing with the greatest minds and souls of the past, and thereby ripening and sharpening and enlarging their powers of thinking. The result is that the arena of creative thinking is abdicated and vacated to the enemy." Malik challenged his listeners, "Evangelicals cannot afford to keep on living on the periphery of responsible intellectual existence" (26). Noll says it took him years to fully absorb and process the truth of Malik's words. Evangelicals are known for their activism, but not for their minds.

Noll now teaches at Notre Dame, the premier Catholic liberal arts institution less than 3 hours from here. When I took a class there last summer I lost count of the number of conversations I had that went something like this.

ND student/faculty/person: Where are you studying?
Me: I'm working on a PhD at Wheaton College in Illinois.
ND student/faculty/person (cheerfully): Oh! Do you know Mark Noll? He teaches here.
Me: I've never met him, but I've heard him speak.
ND student/faculty/person: He's great!

Each of those I spoke with gave me two impressions. (1) Mark Noll embodies evangelicalism. And (2) Mark Noll is a prized member of ND's faculty. I gather that he is carving out a space for intellectually rigorous dialogue and changing the way Evangelicals are perceived, little by little. And none too soon. Let's hope that by the time my kids go to college Noll's prophetic critique of Evangelicalism will sound downright strange because it's no longer true.

white smoke rising

Newly elected Pope Francis I

I watched with interest as the cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church convened, went under lock and key, and selected the next Pope. When the white smoke rose, 1.2 billion Catholics strained to understand the Latin pronouncement revealing his identity. In moments they were chanting his name: "Francisco!" Pope Francis has an enormous responsibility. And while I am not Catholic, I recognize the significant role he will play in years to come as the most visible Christian leader on the planet. With the scandals that have rocked the Catholic church in recent years, Pope Francis needs our prayers for wisdom, humility, and a steady reliance on God for his strength. If all the media attention to Catholicism has raised questions for you about what Catholics believe, I invite you to check out a series of blog posts I wrote last summer during a course I took at Notre Dame, a Catholic University in Indiana. I wrote as an evangelical, but seeking to understand rather than attack Catholicism. We may not have a new Pope, but the fact that others do will affect us indirectly for years to come. Only time will tell how.

penance, indulgences, and the treasury of merit: modes of restoration in the Catholic Church

"The Confession" by Pietro Longhi

In my final post on Catholic teaching, I’d like to focus on a collection of related issues that have puzzled Protestants since the Reformation: Penance, Indulgences, and the Treasury of Merit. These are foreign concepts to those outside Catholicism, but the Catechism of the Catholic Church helped me understand them more fully.

The first thing to know about Penance is that it is considered a sacrament of healing for those who are already members of the Church. Catholics count seven sacraments, all of them instituted by Jesus in some way. Baptism, Confirmation, and the Eucharist are sacraments of initiation into the faith; Penance and Anointing the Sick are sacraments of healing for believers; and Holy Orders and Matrimony relate to communion and mission (§1211). The place of Penance in this list is very important to note. Penance is not a means of salvation, but plays a restorative role for believers who have committed sin. It can be called many things: conversion, confession, forgiveness, and Reconciliation (§1423–1424). While Baptism ushers us into new life in Christ, it does not erase our propensity to sin. The sacrament of Penance recognizes that ongoing struggle against sin and provides a means by which a sinner can be restored (§1426).

The CCC takes sin seriously, and calls for heartfelt repentance in response to God’s great mercy (§1428). But Catholics don’t stop there. Penance addresses both the internal and external aspects of sin: “interior conversion urges expression in visible signs, gestures and works of penance” (§1430). Internally, we renounce our sin and turn back towards God, cultivating once again our love for him. Love for him is the purest defense against sin (§1431–1432). Externally, Penance can take any number of forms: “fasting, prayer, and almsgiving” (§1434), “gestures of reconciliation, concern for the poor, the exercise and defense of justice and right, by the admission of faults to one’s brethren, . . . acceptance of suffering” (§1435), Eucharist (§1436), or reading Scripture (§1437), among other things. Each of these actions orients the heart of the sinner to God’s mercy and prepares them for his forgiveness.

A modern-day confession

Protestants often think of sin in personal terms, and view repentance as a private thing. This is not, however, a biblical notion. In keeping with Scripture, Catholics recognize a two-fold dimension to sin. Not only is our relationship with God disrupted, but so is our relationship to the Church. For that reason, restoration involves a renewed submission to the Church via confession to a priest (§1440). Ultimately, the forgiveness comes from God, but priests serve as his authorized representatives. Priests absolve sinners, or declare them “not guilty” based on the clear delegation of this authority to Jesus’ disciples in Matthew 16:19 and John 20:21–23 (§1441–1445; 1462–1467). The CCC insists “Reconciliation with the Church is inseparable from reconciliation with God” (§1445). Penance is usually “performed in secret between penitent and priest” (§1447), who promises confidentiality (§1467), and involves three steps: contrition (sorrow over the sin), confession (full acknowledgment of wrongdoing), and satisfaction (making restitution for wrongs committed) [§1450–1460]. I love what the CCC says about confession: “Through such an admission man looks squarely at the sins he is guilty of, takes responsibility for them, and thereby opens himself again to God and to the communion of the Church in order to make a new future possible” (§1455).

Why does restitution need to be made? The CCC explains, “Absolution takes away sin, but it does not remedy all the disorders sin has caused. Raised up from sin, the sinner must still recover his full spiritual health by doing something more to make amends for the sin” (§1459). Our kids have a favorite radio program that illustrates the need for restitution. It’s part of the series produced by Focus on the Family called Adventures in Odyssey. In one episode, Rodney Rathbone (a consummate troublemaker), climbs a neighbor’s fence and steals some apples. In the process he breaks the fence. When he is caught, he thinks that saying “sorry” will be enough. But time shows that Rodney has failed to learn his lesson from the experience (he beats up another kid who owes him a dollar, forgetting the mercy that he had just been shown). The local police pick him up and bring him back to his neighbor’s house, where he learns what the word “restitution” means. He is asked to either pay the homeowner the cost of repairing his fence or repair it himself. In the Catholic Church, the ‘action step’ required is assigned by the priest, who carefully considers what act of penance will bring about spiritual fruit in the confessor (§1460).

Penance, then, is not trying to earn God’s grace or forgiveness, but is seeking to restore/repair the broken relationship with God and with the Church (§1468–1469). It is an act that “anticipates in a certain way the judgment to which he will be subjected at the end of his earthly life” when God judges the works of all people (§1470, emphasis original). You might think of it like a therapy undertaken to infuse spiritual strength. A broken shoulder doesn’t just need a cast. One the bone has been healed (=forgiveness), the person goes through therapy to build up the muscles and tissues that will allow for full movement again (=penance).

Included within the sacrament of Penance is the concept of Indulgences. The abuse of Indulgences was one thing that sparked the Protestant Reformation. Dr. Cavadini explained to me, "Indulgences are easily prone to abuse. The Church doesn't talk about them all that much nowadays, although they are still available for pious practices that are designed to help us put into practice the grace of repentance (e.g. practices of prayer and, sometimes, almsgiving to the poor)." The CCC explains what the Church today believes about Indulgences. First, a definition:

"An indulgence is a remission before God of the temporal punishment due to sins whose guilt has already been forgiven, which the faithful Christian who is duly disposed gains under certain prescribed conditions through the action of the Church which, as the minister of redemption, dispenses and applies with authority the treasury of the satisfactions of Christ and the saints" (§1471).

A few things about this definition should be noted. Indulgences do not offer forgiveness. Forgiveness has already been given by God. Instead, Indulgences cover the punishment or natural consequence that remains (the same punishment that Penance is designed to address). This remaining punishment (mediated through Penance) purifies sinners from the “unhealthy attachment to creatures” (§1472–1473). But this is not a lonely, individual purification. Believers share in the “communion of saints,” about which the CCC says, “In this wonderful exchange, the holiness of one profits others, well beyond the harm that the sin of one could cause others. Thus recourse to the communion of saints lets the contrite sinner be more promptly and efficaciously purified of the punishments for sin” (§1475).

We must remember that these sins are not those committed by unbelievers, but by those who have already been baptized into the Church and have since fallen. And though the doctrine can include minor, everyday sins, it is designed to address major sins such as adultery and murder. For these sinners, the Catholic Church identifies the rich storehouse of merits laid up by Christ, Mary, and other saints (§1476–1477). Just as believers share their possessions and so meet one another’s needs, so the Catholic Church believes that these spiritual treasures can be shared with those in need. Based on the authority that God granted to the apostles (noted above), the Church dispenses Indulgences, not to simply excuse sin, but “to spur [fallen Christians] to works of devotion, penance, and charity” (§1478). This undeserved grace evokes gratitude and service. Indulgences may also be applied to those who have already died and are in the process of purification in Purgatory (§1479, 1498).

This is all very unfamiliar territory for Protestants, so perhaps it will help to get a picture of how the process of Penance actually works. The CCC describes it this way:

The elements of the celebration [of Penance] are ordinarily these: a greeting and blessing from the priest, reading the word of God to illuminate the conscience and elicit contrition, and an exhortation to repentance; the confession, which acknowledges sins and makes them known to the priest; the imposition and acceptance of a penance; the priest’s absolution; a prayer of thanksgiving and praise and dismissal with the blessing of the priest. (§1480)

Though even Catholics resist the idea of Confession,
the Church encourages the practice at least yearly

The confession of sins is a very biblical concept, one that Protestants could practice more often (James 5:16). And, strange as it may sound to our ears, Jesus clearly does grant authority to his disciples to proclaim forgiveness of sins (John 20:19–23). Based on the Catholic idea of apostolic succession (the passing down of authority for church leadership from the apostles to present-day priests), it makes sense that priests would be the ones granting absolution from sin. Second Corinthians 5:21 describes how Jesus’ merits benefit us: “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (NRSV). Protestants believe, too, that we are recipients of God’s great grace in Jesus Christ. While our understanding of the mode of its application to us may differ, we can stand side-by-side with Catholics in praising God for the work of redemption in Christ. And from Catholics we can be reminded of the need to repent of our sins and work for the restoration of relationships broken by our sin.

of Popes and Bishops: Catholic Ecclesiology

Dr. John Cavadini offers a reading at Mass with Pope Benedict XVI
and the other members of the International Theological Commission
on the occasion of his appointment to the Commission in 2009.
Click here for the full story.

One of the most obvious differences between Protestants and Catholics is church structure. Hierarchy of any kind is not at all in vogue in our culture. In American Protestant churches, especially among Evangelicals, the democratic ideal has won the day. Congregational meetings include voting, elder and deacon boards reign in the authority of the Pastor, and if people don’t like how things are going, they find another place to worship. For Evangelicals the hierarchy of the Catholic Church seems foreign. But before we talk about the structure of the Church, we need to say a few words about what the Church actually is.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) describes the Church as a mystery, created by Christ, into which he brings people by setting them free from sin and death. The Church is not a club or voluntary organization. It is ordained by God to carry out his mission in the world by preserving and teaching the true faith. The Catholic Church recognizes the diversity of gifts that make up the body of Christ. In no way are those with organizational and leadership gifts exalted over those with “charismatic” gifts. Both are needed for a healthy Church to function. The Church is not perfect, but in the process of becoming what God has designed it to be.

The CCC teaches that the Church is the people of God, made up of those who have been baptized and therefore have taken on Christ’s mission (§871). Believers enjoy “a true equality with regard to dignity” and all participate in the work of the Church by exercising their spiritual gifts (§872). However, the offices of “teaching, sanctifying, and governing” the Church have been entrusted “to the apostles and their successors” (§873). This authority for bishops, priests, and deacons is derived from Christ himself (§874–875), who modeled servant leadership (§876). Bishops do not wield authority on their own, but as members of the collective group of bishops (called the “episcopal college”) under the leadership of the bishop of Rome, who is thought to be St. Peter’s successor (§877). Each bishop personally bears witness to the gospel as they serve the Church (§878–879).

The idea of the episcopal college is modeled after the 12 disciples of Jesus, and Peter’s headship over the 12 is based on his profession of faith, to which Jesus responded “on this rock I will build my Church” (§880–881; Matt 16:18–19). The Bishop of Rome, who succeeds Peter in authority, is called the “Pope” (§882; cf. 869, 936). He unifies the Church, and “as pastor of the entire church has full, supreme, and universal power over the whole Church, a power which he can always exercise unhindered” (§882; cf. 937). Whenever the episcopal college agrees with the Pope, they, too, exercise this authority through universal and ecumenical councils (§883–884).

However, lest we think of this “power” exercised by the Pope and Bishops from a worldly point of view, it’s important to understand that their “power” is a responsibility to serve the Church and to protect her from error. Their service is one of great personal sacrifice. Each is committed to lifelong celibacy, modeling, in a sense, Christ’s marriage to the Church.

Pope Benedict XVI greets Dr. John Cavadini
of Notre Dame, congratulating him on his appointment
to the International Theological Commission

Like the Pope, bishops are the symbol of unity for their own diocese. They care for their members and meet with larger groups of bishops (“ecclesiastical provinces,” “patriarchates,” or “regions”; §887; cf. 938). A bishop’s primary responsibility is preaching, ensuring that the congregation clings to the faith “under the guidance of the Church’s living Magisterium” (§888–889).* The other responsibilities of a bishop include “sanctifying” the Church through providing Holy Communion, praying, and serving (§893). Priests or deacons may be involved in service, but ultimately the bishops are responsible for what takes place (§1369; 939). Bishops also exercise governing authority to the degree that they are “in communion with the whole Church under the guidance of the Pope” (§894–895). In other words, the authority of the bishops is a communal authority. A bishop cannot strike out on his own and expect to be obeyed. His compassionate (and submissive) leadership guides his congregation in the way of truth (§896).

One controversial teaching of the Catholic Church is the “infallibility” of the Pope and the bishops when they agree together on doctrine. It may be helpful to know that only twice in church history has the Pope pronounced a doctrine as infallible (the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption of Mary). This “infallibility” cannot extend beyond the teaching of Scripture (§891–892), though it may be related typologically to it (as it is in both of the above cases). The Pope’s infallibility is derived from the infallibility of Scripture. Like a plumb line for the Church at large, the Church in Rome sets the standard to which all Catholic Churches must adhere (§834; again based on Matt 16:18–19).

For Catholics this hierarchy is very biblical. Based on Jesus’ choice of 12 apostles and his exaltation of Peter, Catholics recognize an unbroken succession of authority that has been passed down to the present day and now resides in the Pope (bishop of Rome) and the episcopal college (bishops around the world). The appointment of bishops, priests and deacons corresponds to New Testament guidelines for bishops, elders (or presbyters), and deacons. Catholics take seriously the unity of the Church and the accountability required to preserve true teaching. All authority is derived from Christ and used in service of the Church, not for personal gain. To the extent that this ideal is realized, one can say that the structure is biblically-derived.

Pope Benedict XVI

Even the most egalitarian and congregational Protestant Church has some authority structure. We may use different titles for those invested with authority in the Church, but we share the concern for unity, sound teaching, compassionate ministry, and purity of example. Authority and submission are biblical concepts, when exercised properly. No system is perfect, of course, but the diversity of models for Church governance should make us hesitant to condemn any one model as inadequate. Whether particular doctrines thought to be pure by the Magisterium truly are biblical is another question, but the structure itself need not be rejected out of hand.

* Dr. Cavadini explained it to me this way: “The Magisterium is the teaching authority of the Church. It first and foremost belongs to the whole Church, but it is exercised on behalf of the Church by the successors of the apostles (i.e. the bishops) in communion with and in union with the successor of Peter (i.e. the pope). The Magisterium makes decisions about what is authentic Christian teaching when necessary.” The CCC says that the bishops responsible for teaching must “preserve God’s people from deviations and defections and to guarantee them the objective possibility of professing the true faith without error” (§890).

do Catholics worship Mary?

One of the most obvious practical differences between Catholics and Protestants is our respective postures towards Mary. Protestants don’t dislike her, but she simply takes her place alongside all of the other heroes of the faith, no better than the rest. For Catholics, on the other hand, Mary is unequaled among humans. Sculptures and paintings feature Mary almost as often as Christ; Churches, schools, and holy societies are devoted to her memory. Even Notre Dame (“Our Lady”) is named after her, and the main administration building is crowned with her golden statue. The Rosary, prayed daily by devout Catholics, is punctuated with “Hail, Mary” and directed toward to the “Most Blessed Mother.” Mary is celebrated, revered, and held up as the highest example of faith. In fact, Dr. Cavadini says, “Without devotion to Mary there is something lacking in Christian worship.”

So . . . why all the fuss about Mary?

The first thing to make clear is that Catholics do not worship or adore Mary. She is instead venerated, or shown respect and devotion for her faith. Because Mary’s faith in Jesus and submission to God’s will are what make her special, contemplation of Mary fosters deeper faith in Christ. She serves as the prime example of saving faith. In class, Dr. Cavadini explained that “Devotion to Mary is devotion to the incarnation. . . . The repetition of the 'Hail Mary' calls to mind the mystery of the incarnation.” Pope John Paul II saw that in the Rosary, "Mary leads us to discover the secret of Christian joy" (On the Most Holy Rosary, 28). The Rosary is one way that Mary invites Catholics to think about Christ.

Conservative Protestants agree with Catholics that Mary was a virgin when she conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit (§484–486, 496–498). She was chosen by God for this purpose because of her “free cooperation” with the Holy Spirit, enabled by God’s grace (§488, 490). She can be thought of as the “exalted daughter of Sion,” the culmination of a long line of women who hoped in God (§489). Responding to an ancient debate, the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) says it is proper to call Mary theotokos, or “Mother of God” (§495; 509). Protestants agree.

However, the Catholic Church goes on to teach two further doctrines related to Mary’s virginity that are generally not held by Protestants: her Immaculate Conception and Perpetual Virginity. The former was declared ex cathedra by the Pope, so it is considered an infallible doctrine by Catholics.

Immaculate Conception 

Catholics believe that Mary was not only a virgin when she conceived, but she was free from original sin. The CCC admits that this doctrine grew up gradually:

"Through the centuries the Church has become ever more aware that Mary, ‘full of grace’ through God, was redeemed from the moment of her conception. That is what the dogma of the Immaculate Conception confesses, as Pope Pius IX proclaimed in 1854:

'The most Blessed Virgin Mary was, from the first moment of her conception, by a singular grace and privilege of almighty God and by virtue of the merits of Jesus Christ, Savior of the human race, preserved immune from all stain of original sin.'" (§491)

Our Lady of Vladimir icon

Dr. Cavadini clarifies that Mary was, from the moment she was conceived, redeemed in anticipation of Christ’s saving work. So her freedom from original sin was on the basis of that redemption in Christ (i.e. the same way you or I are saved later in life). But not only was Mary free from original sin, the CCC teaches that “By the grace of God Mary remained free of every personal sin her whole life long” (§493; cf. 508). She “gave herself entirely to the person and to the work of her Son” (§494). Dr. Cavadini explains, “Her immaculate conception is her complete conformity to the incarnation from the moment of her conception. She was preserved from original sin on the basis of that conformity.”

No direct appeal is made to Scripture in the CCC to support this doctrine other than Luke 1:48, where Mary says, “all generations will call me blessed.” For Protestants it seems a stretch to go from “blessed” (presumably by God) to “blameless”! How do Catholics get there? Protestant readers may be relieved to see that for Catholics Mary’s holiness is derivative of Christ’s own holiness and her election is predicated on God’s grace.

More troublesome to Protestants, however, is the idea that Mary was free from original sin and never sinned during her life, because Scripture never says this explicitly. For Catholics the doctrine has a theological and typological basis. Catholics’ typological views of Mary might be compared to the baptism of infants by many Reformed Protestants. We find no explicit example of or command for infant baptism in Scripture, yet many churches practice it because they see a typological relationship between circumcision and baptism. Just as circumcision of male babies signified their inclusion in the Covenant, so baptism of children stands as a symbol of their inclusion in the New Covenant, based on the promise of God. Not all Protestants believe in infant baptism, but those who practice it have allowed a typological reading of Scripture to shape their Christian practice. This is analogous to the Catholic Church’s teachings on Mary. We might say her sinlessness flows naturally from her portrayal in Scripture as one fully submitted to the will of God. A life completely surrendered is one without sin. If we admit of even the possibility of entire sanctification (something debated among Protestants), then the Catholic vision of Mary stands as the showcase example.

But Mary is more than a role model, or example of faith. For Catholics, the doctrine of her Immaculate Conception is intrinsically connected to Christology, and it arises out of contemplation of the circular nature of the incarnation. How is the incarnation circular? Simply the idea that Mary is the “Mother of God” defies logic — how can God have a mother? Mary then, through Christ’s offering of himself, becomes the daughter of her Son — another conundrum. Edward Oakes explains,

"The implications of the denial of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception should become clear. For such a denial would then make our very salvation dependent on Mary’s free will operating independent of grace. Her Yes to God would have had to have been made, even if ever so slightly, under her own power, which would have the intolerable implication of making the entire drama of salvation hinge on a human work ..." (“Sola Gratia and Mary’s Immaculate Conception,” 3).

In other words, if Mary was not sinless, how could she have given her full consent to the incarnation? And if she was able to give full consent, would not her sinless response have been a work of God’s grace? Therefore, the grace of God must have been in operation from the very moment of her conception, preparing her for this moment of full consent. And that grace is only available on the basis of Christ’s redeeming work. Therefore, Mary is redeemed in anticipation of that saving work of Christ, and her willingness to bear the incarnate Lord makes that redemption possible. (Do you see the circle?)

Perpetual Virginity

For Protestants, another unfamiliar Catholic doctrine is the perpetual virginity of Mary. According to the CCC, Mary continued to be a virgin for the rest of her life (§499; 510). Her virginity is a sign of her faith, the “undivided gift of herself” to God (§506). She then becomes the mother of all who believe (§501; 511; 963). To the objection of Protestants that Jesus had siblings, the Catechism claims that “James and Joseph, ‘brothers of Jesus,’ are the sons of another Mary, a disciple of Christ, whom St. Matthew significantly calls ‘the other Mary.’ They are close relations of Jesus, according to an Old Testament expression” (§500). Mary’s ongoing virginity is the outward expression of her openness to God’s special work in her. She continues to embody the mystery of the incarnation.

Statue of the Holy Family on Notre Dame's Campus

If this seems to downgrade human sexuality, we should note that Catholics do not see married sex as unholy. The holy family is fulfilling a unique vocation, not one to be emulated by married couples. Marital celibacy is not praised by the apostles. On the contrary, Paul tells the married not to deprive each other of sexual fulfillment (1 Cor 7:3,5).

Protestants may still want to object to the Catholic interpretation of Jesus “brothers” as his “cousins” (Matt 13:55 and Mark 6:3). We may also see Matt 1:25 as pointing away from the doctrine of Mary’s perpetual virginity—Joseph kept Mary a virgin “until she gave birth” to Jesus. I for one have understood this to mean that after Jesus was born Mary and Joseph consummated their marriage. However, there is room for disagreement over this issue. Seen typologically, the Catholic doctrine on Mary can be squared with Scripture (though it goes beyond what the Bible explicitly says).

More on Mary


The CCC also teaches that Mary intercedes for the Church (§965; 969). Her mediation, a “maternal role,” is not meant to equal or diminish the uniqueness of Christ’s mediation, but is derivative of it and based on the doctrine of the priesthood of all believers (§969; 975; 1014). She has simply gone before us and represents the end goal of the journey of faith (§972). In fact, Catholics teach that Mary was taken up into heaven directly, where she awaits us. This doctrine is called the “Assumption of Mary” (§966, 974; cf. 1024), and it is also considered infallible. It is not found in the Bible and has no parallel in the Protestant church. It is based on a very ancient liturgical Tradition which can obviously not be proven or disproven. You could think of Enoch, who “walked with God; then he was no more, because God took him” (Gen 5:24 NRSV) or Elijah, who was taken to heaven in a whirlwind (2 Kings 2:11).

Beliefs about Mary can be a real sticking point between Catholics and Protestants. I hope that this post has helped you to understand what Catholics believe about Mary and (to some extent) why. I am coming to a place where these doctrines are at least beginning to make sense, though I am not ready to embrace all of them. Ultimate agreement may be unlikely, but respect, dialogue, and understanding are the goal.

Dr. Cavadini put it to me this way, in an e-mail exchange over this issue:

"So it seems to me that all Christians who believe in the Incarnation can share Mary as 'Mother of God,' and can begin to understand that they are truly linked in this way, and Christians less inclined to cultivate a devotion to Mary can still on the basis of this link, if they are willing to seriously consider it, have an understanding of the devotion that flourishes more explicitly in other communions, and, without participating in it, still feel a link to it, and understanding of it, and an appreciation that someone is in fact holding up that end of the spectrum." (emphasis mine)

He later reminded me that the beauty of Catholic teaching on Mary can get lost in the arguments over particular aspects, adding,

"The Mother of the Incarnate Word is not His mother just by accident—her kid happened to turn out great—but she is consulted and is aware. That maternal love is there for all of us because Christ wills it. Her maternal compassion is there for us and leads us to contemplate the divine mercy of her Son. There is nothing to be afraid of, only beauty, only the special role of a women in our redemption. . . . Remember, there is no jealousy in Heaven. No one is jealous of the Blessed Mother as though her status is competitive—only love."

picturing Christ: icons in the Catholic Church

Today’s post invites you to consider Catholic teaching about icons. An icon is a work of art with religious significance, usually a painting. Icons are used extensively in the Eastern Churches (both Orthodox and Catholic), but also by Roman Catholics. A major point of contention during the Protestant Reformation, icons continue to separate Protestants and Catholics on a practical level. Some Protestants afford a place for art in worship, but many do not, and some reject any depiction of God, even of Christ.

Among Protestants, perhaps the most widely appreciated (recent) reflection on a religious painting is Henri Nouwen’s extended treatment of Rembrandt’s The Return of the Prodigal Son. Meditation on each aspect of the painting afforded Nouwen with a new depth of insight into God’s love for him, which became the subject of an entire book. The picture focused Nouwen’s reflections in a profound way on the truths of Scripture. In a similar way, Catholics use icons as objects of spiritual reflection. For some, this Christian use of images is controversial.

Unlike some Protestants who reject any depictions of God in art, even in his incarnation, Catholics see the incarnation as the authorization of iconography. With Protestants, Catholics agree that God the Father cannot be captured in any form, because his form has never been revealed (CCC §1159, 2129). Christ, however, took on a human form and became the very image of God, so his portrayal as a human is fitting (§476–477, 2131). Even in the Old Testament, God used images to anticipate his saving work in Christ (§2130). Icons illustrate the truths of Scripture and help to illumine it. In this way, icons are gospel-centered (§1160, 1161). All icons, no matter what their subject matter, ultimately represent Christ, because as images they recall the incarnation (§1159). Even an icon of Mary ultimately directs attention to Jesus’ incarnation.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) describes icons this way:

The contemplation of sacred icons, united with meditation on the Word of God and the singing of liturgical hymns, enters into the harmony of the signs of celebration so that the mystery celebrated is imprinted in the heart’s memory and is then expressed in the new life of the faithful. (§1162)

Andrei Rublev's The Trinity evokes multiple levels
of reflection, beginning with the story of Abraham's
three visitors and culminating in the unseen Trinity 

This evocation of memory lived out in faithfulness is the goal of sacred art. God himself spoke in the art of creation before he revealed himself to humankind in words (§2500). The CCC calls art “a form of practical wisdom, uniting knowledge and skill, to give form to the truth of reality in a language accessible to sight or hearing” (§2501). When it is done well, “genuine sacred art draws man to adoration, to prayer, and to the love of God” (§2502; cf. 2513). It focuses our meditation on biblical truth (§2705). Icons that are not made with excellence are to be removed by bishops, while good art—that which reflects the truth of Scripture while respecting the Tradition— is to be encouraged (§2503).

Protestants will be glad to know that Catholics are not to worship these images: “the honor paid to sacred images is a ‘respectful veneration,’ not the adoration due to God alone” (§2132). Dr. Cavadini has given us copies of several of his favorite icons to illustrate Catholic teaching. In each case, the symbolism of the artwork invites contemplation. (A book that has helped us to interpret the icons is Paul Evdokimov’s The Art of the Icon: A Theology of Beauty). Protestants are perhaps confused by icons because we take them too literally. The Trinity? You can’t depict the Trinity! Of course, the artist knows that the Trinity is ineffable, and cannot be captured in full, but what they paint is meant to inspire our reflections on the Trinity. Dr. Cavadini calls an icon a “mediating device” or a “theological summary in pictures.”

We could learn from Catholics in this area. Rather than fear the imperfect analogy portrayed by a picture, we could let it direct us to contemplate the perfect reality: Christ himself. Remembering the purpose for icons will guard against their misuse. As the CCC says so beautifully, “Sacred images in our churches and homes are intended to awaken and nourish our faith in the mystery of Christ. Through the icon of Christ and his works of salvation, it is he whom we adore” (§1192). One of the best known Protestant religious painters is Ron DiCianni. A copy of “Simeon’s Moment” hangs on our living room wall (and a smaller version in my office), a reminder that the incarnation was the fulfillment of all of God’s promises and Israel’s hopes. As Simeon cradles the baby Jesus, his eyes sparkle and his face is radiant with the knowledge that the savior of the world has come! Ancient icons, like this modern-day depiction of the incarnation, are intended cultivate and inspire our faith in Jesus.

On the "communion of saints" ... or ... why do Catholics pray for the dead?

…I believe in the holy catholic Church,

The communion of saints,

The forgiveness of sins,

The resurrection of the body,

And the life everlasting.

-Apostles Creed

In my most recent post I explored Catholic teaching about the “life everlasting,” including the doctrines of heaven, Purgatory, hell, and the final judgment. The doctrine of Purgatory, so foreign to Protestants, is wedded with another unfamiliar doctrine: the communion of saints. I grew up saying the Apostles Creed every Sunday, and I always thought “communion of saints” referred to fellowship among believers. And so it does, but the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) specifies a wider frame of reference.

At the most basic level, “the communion of saints is the Church” (CCC §946). The Church shares a number of things in common, both physically and spiritually. First, “the riches of Christ are communicated to all the members, through the sacraments” (§947). Second, all that belongs to the Church belongs to the whole church (§947). As the Eastern Orthodox Church says before partaking in communion, “sancta santis,” or “God’s holy gifts for God’s holy people” (§948; cf. 950, 960). This is a beautiful expression of the biblical truth that Christ’s holy gift of himself is intended to make us holy.

Protestants agree that “Faith is a treasure of life which is enriched by being shared” (§949; cf. 961). This is part of what is meant by the “communion of saints.” We also join with Catholics in affirming that the gifts of the Spirit are given for mutual edification (§951). True communion involves sharing our possessions with the needy (§952) in love (§953).

"Communion of Saints"
from www.catfoundations.org

However, when Catholics talk about the "communion of saints," their view of the Church is much wider than the "church universal" (spread geographically) or the "church through the ages" (spread chronologically). They have in mind the church in three dimensions, or states. The CCC explains, "at the present time some of his disciples are pilgrims on earth. Others have died and are being purified, while still others are in glory" (§954, emphasis mine; cf. 962). We, then, are unified with these believers who are already in heaven, or who live in Purgatory awaiting entrance to heaven because we are all incorporated into Christ (§955). According to the CCC, we should not merely learn from their examples, but commune through prayer, and in that way draw closer to Christ (§957). Those already in heaven "intercede with the Father for us" (§956). "We can and should ask them to intercede for us and for the whole world" (§2683) because their prayers benefit us (§1475). We, in turn, pray for those in Purgatory "that they may be loosed from their sins," and may go on to heaven and pray for us (§958). Together with saints dead and alive, we praise God (§959).

As I explained yesterday, the doctrine of Purgatory is connected with the practice of praying for the dead (which in turn is based on a passage in the Apocryphal book of Maccabees). The doctrine of the “communion of saints” in Catholic thinking in turn prompts prayer for fellow believers who are on their way to heaven (cf. §1032; see 2 Macc 12:44–45).  Baruch 3:4 also hints at this, mentioning “the prayer of the dead of Israel.” The CCC explains, “By virtue of the ‘communion of saints,’ the Church commends the dead to God’s mercy and offers her prayers, especially the holy sacrifice of the Eucharist, on their behalf” (§1055; cf. 1371, 1689).

Though these teachings are most clear in the Apocrypha, we can find hints of in the Scriptures accepted by Protestants. First Peter 3:18–20 speaks of Jesus preaching to the disobedient dead before his resurrection. This implies that there is a place other than heaven or hell where dead people await their final destiny. Hebrews 12:1 pictures the saints who have died as “so great a cloud of witnesses” who are watching us live out our faith. From this passage we get a glimpse of some type of communion with them, a mutual edification.

Protestants, I suspect, are nervous about the Catholic understanding of the “communion of saints” for three reasons (1) the Bible clearly condemns communication with the dead (e.g. King Saul and the witch of Endor – 1 Sam 28:6–21), and (2) Protestants are reluctant to exalt any human being in such a way that the perfect work of Christ is eclipsed. He is our only good, and the one source of our righteousness. Since “all have sinned,” even those who have done great things for the kingdom of God are unworthy of our veneration. All glory belongs to Christ alone. (3) A third reason is that Jesus Christ is the only mediator we need: “For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus” (1Tim 2:5 RSV).

In fairness to Catholics, they are not seeking knowledge from dead saints the way Saul was with the deceased Samuel. While Saul was engaged in necromancy (magic) outside of God's revealed will, prayers for the saints are "in Christ." The reality of the resurrection changes what is possible. Catholics exalt no one above Christ. Their honoring of the saints is precisely because of God's work in and through them. And they do not view the saints as mediating for us outside of Christ, but instead as sharing in his work of mediation as part of the royal priesthood. Still, the practice of praying to saints comes uncomfortably close to these aberrations and runs the risk of misunderstanding at a popular level. It’s no wonder Protestants want to leave a wide margin.

In short: At the core of Catholic teaching on the Church is the idea that we commune with all believers, those in heaven, waiting to enter heaven, or alive on earth (none of them are really "dead" the way the condemned are dead). The idea of prayer for the "dead" is most clearly seen in the Apocrypha, which Protestants do not accept as Scripture. The uncertainty of the idea of prayer for the "dead," combined with the thin witness of Scripture about life between death and final judgment, make communion with the "dead" a matter about which Protestants will continue to feel uneasy. Some of this uneasiness may be unfounded, as I hope this post has shown. Orthodox Catholic teaching preserves the absolute uniqueness of Christ and his saving work on our behalf. 

heaven, hell, and in between: the Catholic doctrine of Purgatory

Today my exploration of Catholic theology will focus (by request) on the doctrine of purgatory. As you may have gathered from previous posts I’m taking a course in Christian Doctrine at Notre Dame, a Catholic university. Each day our assignment is to explain a section of the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) to an audience of our choosing, and I picked you (don’t you feel special?). My hope is that all of us will end up with a fuller understanding of what Catholics believe, and why.

According to Catholic teaching, what happens when we die?

Reflecting on the final phrase from the Apostles’ Creed, “I believe in . . . the life everlasting,” the CCC offers assurance to each one who “unites his own death to that of Jesus” and therefore enters “into everlasting life” (§1020). Catholics believe that each of us is “rewarded immediately . . . in accordance with his works and faith” (§1021; cf. 1051). Unlike Jehovah’s Witnesses, who envision a time of soul sleep before the millennium, at which time all will be given another opportunity to repent, Catholics limit the possibility of trusting Christ to this earthly life. At death we face one of three destinies: heaven, delayed heaven (i.e. Purgatory), or hell (§1022).

First, a word about heaven. “Those who die in God’s grace and friendship and are perfectly purified live for ever with Christ” (§1023). Their entrance into heaven is entrance into eternal communion with Christ on the basis of his death and resurrection (§1026). Catholics have a special name for the gift of seeing God in heavenly glory: “the beatific vision” (§1028, 1053). Spiritual contemplation and meditation on earth anticipate the beatific vision (though faith is the "essential foretaste" of it, according to Dr. Cavadini). Catholics are particularly noted for this aspect of spirituality.

Some, however, are not ready for heaven. “All who die in God’s grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven” (§1030; cf. 1054). Purgatory must not be confused with hell (§1031). While the fires of hell bring eternal punishment to the unrepentant (§1035), those in purgatory bring cleansing to the redeemed (§1031). Those in Purgatory are on their way to heaven, but need purification first. Don’t miss this. Our final destination cannot change after death, even in response to someone’s prayers. One bound for hell does not end up in Purgatory and cannot be brought there through prayers of those still living. Purgatory is for saints who need a bit more time to become like Jesus. One of my classmates put it something like this: “Purgatory is a useful doctrine, because most of us won’t be ready for heaven yet when we die.”

Purgatory is later explained this way: “every sin . . . entails an unhealthy attachment to creatures, which must be purified either here on earth, or after death in the state called Purgatory. This purification frees one from what is called the ‘temporal punishment’ of sin,” which flows naturally from the sin itself (§1472). Dr. Cavadini imagines that for every minute he goes overtime in class, he will spend a week in Purgatory listening to himself talk. While he is only joking (I think!), it’s a good illustration of how Purgatory is designed to refine us. The purification directly relates to the sin.

The "Anastasis" or Resurrection Icon,
painted in the 14th century, depicts Jesus'
descent into hell to rescue imprisoned spirits
(see 1 Peter 3:19)

Gregory the Great based his understanding of Purgatory on Matthew 12:31, which speaks of forgiveness both in the present age and the one to come (§1031). The CCC teaches that this doctrine “is also based on the practice of prayer for the dead, already mentioned in Sacred Scripture” (§1032). The passage cited is 2 Maccabees 12:45, where Judas Maccabeus takes up a collection on behalf of Jews who had fallen in battle while possessing idols. Evidently he sees them as redeemed but in need of a sin offering. Though they are dead, Judas believes they will rise again and commune with God in the life to come. Job also serves as an example, in that he offers sacrifices for his children (Job 1:5). In the words of John Chrysostom, “Let us not hesitate to help those who have died and to offer our prayers for them” (§1032).

The clearest source of this teaching—the Apocryphal book of 2 Maccabees—is telling. No wonder the Catholic Church has found solid footing for Purgatory while Protestants have not! It largely depends on which canon is used. Second Maccabees is an Apocryphal book, not accepted by Protestants as Scripture. What Catholics believe about Purgatory is based on the canon they have received by faith, just as our denial of this doctrine is based on the canon we have received by faith, which does not contain clear teaching on this matter.

However, shadows of this doctrine may be discerned in other passages. In 1 Corinthians 3:13, Paul describes the fire that will “test the quality of each person’s work” at the judgment day. First Peter 1:7 speaks of a similar fire for believers. The Bible is not explicit about what happens “in the meantime” as we await final judgment and the full revelation of the kingdom of God. For this reason, we should hold our opinions on the subject with a looser grip. Until we experience it ourselves, none of us can really be sure what will happen in the time between death and final resurrection. The Bible is very clear, though, on our final destiny. It’s either life with God (i.e. heaven) or life without him (i.e. hell).

Hell is an unpopular doctrine in our time. Long gone are the days of “fire and brimstone” preaching. But what the CCC has to say about hell is important. Based on the teaching of Jesus (§1034; 1056), Catholics affirm that hell lasts forever (§1035), and that it is freely chosen, not predestined by God, who wants all to be saved (§1037; 1058). Hell is a “state of definitive self-exclusion from communion with God and the blessed” (§1033, emphasis mine). When we die without repenting and receiving the love and mercy of God for us, we choose to be separated from him forever (§1033; cf. 1057). The reality of hell should move us to repentance (§1036; cf. 1041) and motivate us to share the good news of God’s love with as many as possible. A final judgment awaits all people where we must “render an account of [our] own deeds” (§1059; cf. 1038–1039). After that Christ will reign over God’s kingdom with the help of the redeemed (§1042), “and the material universe itself will be transformed” (§1060; cf. 1043, 1047).

Catholics and Protestants together look forward to the day when all will be made right. We long to see our Savior face to face and spend eternity with him. And we each, in our own ways, strive to become more like him in preparation for life everlasting. Whether that process of sanctification continues after we die is a matter of debate, but on the end result we’re in full agreement. Ultimately we’ll enjoy the presence of God forevermore.

My next post will treat a related subject, the “communion of saints,” which for Catholics involves prayers for and to those who have died. Stay tuned!

Are Science and Scripture Compatible?

I'm blogging from the campus of Notre Dame, where I am taking a course in Christian Doctrine from Dr. John Cavadini. Each post in this series will examine a particular area of Catholic theology in hopes of understanding it more fully. Today's topic is a hot button within Evangelical circles, but Catholics have managed to avoid much of the controversy that plagues Evangelicals. While a great many Evangelical churches teach a literal, 6-day creation of the universe, Catholics do not and never have. Their faith in the bible as Scripture has been able to co-exist more-or-less peacefully with the advance of scientific theories about the origins of the universe. How have they managed this? 

Catholics carefully distinguish between what the Bible is and is not trying to say. This allows for a robust theology of creation but leaves room for science to do what science is supposed to do—describe what can be empirically tested. I’ll start by attempting to explain what Catholics do see in the Bible about Creation, and then move on to what they don’t see.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) insists that God created the universe (§279), and that the existence of this God “can be known with certainty through his works, by the light of human reason” (§286). However, though we can discern the existence of a creator, we cannot discern the answers to questions about the meaning of creation, or about the origin, vocation, and destiny of humanity without revelation (§287–288). Scripture tutors and converts human reason by telling us that we belong to our Creator and inviting us into a relationship with him (§288). The first three chapters of Genesis are first in the Bible not (necessarily) because they were written first or even because the events they describe are chronologically prior to everything else, but because they lay the foundation for understanding God’s purposes for creation (§289). Creation is more than just the beginning of life, it affects everything else.

We might think of creation as a little like a wedding. A wedding is not just the first thing that happens in a marriage, it inaugurates and defines that marriage—a binding commitment entered into freely by a man and woman who love each other and will from that moment on forsake all other loves. The wedding is performed by someone with the authority to bind these two together in the sight of God. It takes place in the presence of family and friends, and even those relationships are changed. Parental roles are diminished, handed over to the new spouse. Husband and wife are no longer their own, they belong to each other. The theological richness of a marriage ceremony is like creation because it is an event that not only indicates the start of life but defines what kind of life it is and the roles that each one plays in it.

Reading the creation story in light of Christ, Catholics affirm that the creation of the world does not only concern material origins (how stuff came to be), but signals the beginning of God’s plan to redeem the world (§280). By creating the world, God was taking the first steps toward saving it. Creation answers the big, basic questions about our origin and destiny, the meaning of life, and our vocation in it (§282, 289). It teaches us these truths:

-“The totality of what exists . . . depends on the One who gives it being” (§290).

-Father, Son, and Holy Spirit worked in “creative cooperation” to create all things (§291–292).

-Everything was made for God’s glory (§293). He is glorified when he fills our whole vision and we find our life in him (§294).

-God made the world out of his own free will, not because he needed us (§295). This contrasts with all other ancient Near Eastern creation stories where the gods needed people to feed them and do their work for them.

-Just as God created all things out of nothing, so he gives us a transformed life through no effort of our own (§296–298).

-Creation flows from the goodness of God, and is therefore good and ordered (§299).

-God is both transcendent over creation and present within it (§300).

-God has not abandoned creation. He continues to sustain it and work out his purposes in it. “Recognizing this utter dependence with respect to the Creator is a source of wisdom and freedom, of joy and confidence” for humans (§301).

I love the way the CCC describes creation. It is so theologically rich, pointing towards worship of the God who made us in order to invite us into his Trinitarian communion. Beautiful.

But what, then, of science? What happens when scientists say that the world is not young but very, very old? What happens when they propose evolution as a model for human origins -- a system requiring millions of years and billions of mutations?

The CCC does not condone any one scientific theory, but it does map out the relationship between science and Scripture in way that allows for the possibility that scientists may be right, at least on some things. Sandwiched right in the middle of rich theological reflection, the CCC digresses into a discussion of science under the unspoken premise that “all truth is God’s truth.”

“The question about the origins of the world and of man has been the object of many scientific studies which have splendidly enriched our knowledge of the age and dimensions of the cosmos, the development of life-forms and the appearance of man. These discoveries invite us to even greater admiration for the greatness of the Creator, prompting us to give him thanks for all his works and for the understanding and wisdom he gives to scholars and researchers.” (§283)

However, Catholics recognize that the question of the meaning of life is “beyond the proper domain of the natural sciences” (§284). Science can (perhaps) tell us when and how the world came into being, but not what its purpose is (§284). As Dr. Cavadini explained, “We tend to think of the first chapter of the book of Genesis as if it were a primitive, scientific account” that needs updating with the discoveries of modern science. But what if Genesis 1–3 is not making any scientific claims? Science has to do with phenomena that can be observed, tested, and verified. The concerns of Genesis 1 and 2, for example, “goodness” and the “image of God,” are outside the bounds of scientific inquiry. If they are not scientific statements, then science cannot replace them with anything else. The account of creation in Genesis evokes mystery (How can there be light before the sun is made? How can birds and fish eat before plants are made? Does God really speak out loud before anyone is there to listen?). It evokes worship and gratitude for God’s goodness. In Dr. Cavadini’s words, “The doctrine of creation cannot be proven, because it’s a revealed truth, but we can bear witness to it by living out our gratitude in a virtuous life.”

The CCC celebrates the accomplishments of modern science, without embracing any one theory of origins, even while it charitably rejects many philosophical models of the world that are not compatible with Scripture (Pantheism, Dualism, Manichaeism, Gnosticism, Deism, Materialism; §285). Certain “scientific” theories are, of course, also excluded, in particular those that go beyond what science can properly describe by excluding the involvement of God in the process. Returning to the marriage illustration, we might think of it this way: biologists can explain the mechanics of the sexual act, the interplay of hormones and even the behaviors that typically precede and follow such an act, but they simply cannot capture or measure (in scientific terms) the meaning or significance that a particular act of intercourse has in a relationship or comment on its moral rightness or wrongness. In the same way, scientists can talk about animals or people and their development over time, but cannot comment on the meaning or purpose of life.

So Catholics joyfully accept the witness of Scripture and allow it to inform the way they think about everything, but they do not press Genesis for a scientific account of material origins. In this way they can nurture morally-responsible scientific inquiry without fearing its outcome and at the same time worship the God who made everything and continues to uphold it by his word.

do Catholics have true faith?

Basilica of the Sacred Heart
Notre Dame, Indiana

I’m blogging from the campus of Notre Dame, where I am taking a course in Christian Doctrine from Dr. John Cavadini. Each post in this series will examine an area of disagreement (or perceived disagreement) between Catholics and Protestants. My hope is to grant you access to particular points of Catholic theology that you may have found confusing. Because while a particular matter may seem odd to us as Evangelicals, chances are good that it actually makes sense when taken as a part of a bigger picture. In my first two posts I examined an unexpected (to me) area of disagreement: the role of Natural Theology. Today I want to discuss an area of perceived difference: faith. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

I've lived on the East Coast, West Coast, Rockies, and now the Midwest. I've lived in a predominately Catholic country (the Philippines) and traveled to others (Panama and Venezuela). My impression in each place (though I'm no expert) has been that Evangelicals have a dim view of Catholic theology. Many might even say that Catholics believe in salvation by works, while we believe in salvation by faith. Another version goes something like this: Catholics have (dead) religion, while we have a living relationship with Jesus Christ. Whatever the reason for this misperception, I cannot say, but it does not square with official Catholic teaching. I suspect it has something to do with age-old Reformation battles. Maybe, too, there is a sense in which – at a popular level – it is true, at least for some. But when I look around me in class I see Catholics (all or most of them, I presume, are Catholics) with a vibrant faith in God and a desire to lead others to saving faith in Christ. And when I read the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) I see so many things I can joyfully affirm.

Listen to this beautiful selection:

“By his revelation, ‘the invisible God, from the fullness of his love, addresses men as his friends, and moves among them, in order to invite and receive them into his own company.’ The adequate response to this invitation is faith.” (§142)

Did you catch that? Catholics believe that God invites us into intimate relationship with him, and that our response must be one of faith. But even faith cannot be considered a good work, because “Faith is a gift of God, a supernatural virtue infused by him” (§153). Luther, I’m told, didn’t want to call faith a virtue. But in the way that Thomas Aquinas understood it, faith is wholly dependent on God’s grace. Later the CCC says, “Believing is possible only by grace and the interior helps of the Holy Spirit” (§154, §179).

What, then, is the nature of saving faith? Is it simply an intellectual decision about who God is?

Dr. Cavadini answers this with an emphatic “No!” For him, faith is not just belief in the sense of an intellectual assent. It is not just knowing something. It involves submission (§143), putting our trust in Jesus (§151), obeying him, and giving ourselves fully to a relationship with him. He says, “believing is a kind of seeing that allows you to see farther than you really can” (cf. §164). You might think of faith the way a pilot responds to his instruments in a fog. He cannot see the landing strip with his own eyes, but he trusts the accuracy of the instruments that tell him what his angle and speed and altitude should be. His faith in the instruments is not a dead assent to their truthfulness. Faith requires him to take action on the basis of what the instruments say, to entrust his very life to them.

Cavadini says, “There is no way around faith if you really want to see God.” Faith is absolutely necessary to be a Christian (§161). We can never prove the existence of God, because if we could do so, then he would cease to be God. If our prayers evoked a reliable and audible response, then he would no longer be God because we could evoke him at will. His divine qualities are precisely what make him outside the grasp of our senses, of our reason (§157). He is free. He does not depend on us. We must admit that he is bigger than what we can comprehend, and that we depend on him for life itself. That’s faith. And whether you are Catholic or Protestant, faith is the key to entering into a living relationship with the God who made you, loves you, and gave his own life for you so that you could really live.

pizza and natural theology: a follow-up question

So my Protestant readers (most of you!) may have a follow-up question on the issue of Natural Theology. At least, I did. My question was this:

Do Catholics consider the process of becoming open to revelation (through the use of natural reason) a work of God?

If so, it would be somewhat equivalent to the Reformed doctrine of irresistible grace, or to the Methodist doctrine of prevenient grace. Is our desire to know God, which we work out through human reason until we encounter revelation, evidence of the work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts? Is our spiritual quest of God preceded by God’s quest of us?

From what I’ve read so far, the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) does not address this question exactly, but it says that people are “made to live in communion with God” (§45), and our “free response to his grace” is part of his “eternal plan of ‘predestination’” (§600). In that way, grace plays a key role in our coming to faith somewhat analogous to that described by Reformed Protestants or Methodists. The CCC explains it this way:

“Man’s faculties make him capable of coming to a knowledge of the existence of a personal God. But for man to be able to enter into real intimacy with him, God willed both to reveal himself to man and to give him the grace of being able to welcome the revelation in faith. The proofs of God’s existence, however, can predispose one to faith and help one to see that faith is not opposed to reason.” (§35, emphasis mine).

Catholic teaching is clear—even our faith in God is a gift. Without his grace, we would not be able to put our trust in the God who has revealed himself to us. Perhaps, too, Natural Theology does not sound so foreign when situated in its context. The main difference between Catholics and Protestants on Natural Theology is the degree of depravity that resulted from the Fall or the degree of optimism that remains about human reason. On one thing we agree—grace is always necessary for salvation.

pizza and natural theology

I’m taking a 3-week course at Notre Dame on Christian Doctrine. In our first class together, Dr. Cavadini pointed to a key difference between Catholics and Protestants. It has to do with the answer to this question:

How much can we know about God without the help of Scripture?

The fancy name for this is “Natural Theology” (theology is ‘the study of God’ and by ‘natural’ we mean ‘without divine intervention’). In short, Catholics tend to be more optimistic than Protestants about how well Natural Theology works (or at least about its potential). Some Protestants reject it completely. Before I lay out the differences, an illustration may help.

Imagine you arrive home from work one day and find a pizza on your kitchen counter. You are thrilled, because you are hungry after a long day of work, but you are also puzzled because you live alone (if you don’t, just pretend) and you have no idea who brought you pizza. You look around for clues, but see nothing. The kitchen is clean, as if no one has been there, but when you open the oven you notice it is still very hot. Whoever left the pizza cooked it in your kitchen and did a very good job cleaning up! You take a closer look at the pizza. It has your favorite toppings! Whoever made it knows you well, and their sense of timing is exquisite. It’s hot and ready. How did they know when you would be home? Then you notice something else—this is no frozen pizza. It has a homemade crust, hand-tossed by the looks of it, with sauce carefully spread and lots of gooey cheese, but none of it spilling over onto the pizza pan. Whoever made this pizza was an artist! 

You decide that they evidently wanted you to eat it, so you grab a couple of slices and sit down to eat. While eating, you keep thinking about who it could have been. You have a growing list of words that you could use to describe this person, but no name and no face, just a big question mark. You have that warm and tingly feeling, knowing that you are loved, but you can’t get the question mark out of your mind. You just have to figure out who it was!

So far, the story illustrates Natural Theology. You have been using the powers of human reason to figure out the identity of the pizza-maker. You are certain that the pizza didn’t show up by chance. It was intentional, and someone did it. You’ve figured out certain qualities of that person: he or she is loving, kind, careful, conscientious, timely, creative, and thoughtful. But you still don’t know who it is. Dr. Cavadini follows early Christian writers (Justin Martyr, Origen and Augustine) who point to Socrates as the ideal example of someone engaged in the search for truth using human reason, that is, Natural Theology. Socrates is open and proceeds from one question to another to see what he can discover, but the quest is never-ending. At the end of Natural Theology there is some certainty, but also still a big question mark. Who made this pizza for me?

Imagine, then, that you finish eating, put the leftover pizza in some Tupperware, and head to the fridge. When you get there you find a note on the door that you missed earlier. It reads:

Hi hon!

I hope you liked the pizza! Sorry I couldn’t stay to eat it with you. I had a dinner appointment with friends, but I wanted you to know that I love you.

Love, Mom 
(p.s. just because)

Suddenly it all makes sense. Mom has a key to your house. Why didn’t you think of that before? She knows your favorite toppings and what time you get off work. You were right: she really is loving, kind, careful, conscientious, timely, creative, and thoughtful. Now you have a person to link with that list, and now the knowledge you gained without the note contributes to a stronger relationship with someone in particular: your mom.

The note on the fridge is like Scripture (revelation). In Scripture God reveals to us his name and his intentions for us. Natural Theology only gets us so far. If we’re thinking well, we can figure out a lot of things about God, but we still can’t really enter into a relationship with him until we know who he is. A Catholic would say that Natural Theology gives us certainty, but not completeness. You were certain that someone made you pizza. You knew a number of things to be true about that person, but you didn’t have complete knowledge. You didn’t know who made it or why. After you read the note, those things became clear.

Natural theology prepares us for revelation. And though God gave all of us the gift of reason (§159*), the proper use of it is up to us. Catholics do not think that this faculty is totally damaged by sin. It has the potential of working properly, though without revelation it never works perfectly. If in our quest for God we are truly open to him and don’t close off the search prematurely, then we will attain understanding. This knowledge can be certain (under the right conditions), but not exhaustive (§46–47). Many (most?) versions of Protestant theology have little place for Natural Theology. The Reformed doctrine of 'total depravity,' for example, sees our reason as totally corrupted by the Fall, unreliable and guaranteed to lead us astray. But on one thing Protestants and Catholics agree. Both groups believe we won’t have saving knowledge of God until we encounter special revelation (i.e. the Bible). In spite of the value they place on Natural Theology, then, Catholics still recognize that our reason can only get us so far. We cannot know God fully or intimately without revelation. We can think about pizza all day and never know who to thank for it.

-----
Hopefully this vignette has given you a (pizza-flavored) taste of what I'm learning at Notre Dame. My goal for this course is to understand more clearly what Catholics believe from their perspective. Too often we rely on caricatures of each other's believes without really stopping to listen. Our assignments for the class are to re-explain parts of the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) to a particular audience, and I picked YOU! If there are particular areas of Catholic Doctrine that you would like me to write about, leave a comment and I'll see if I can work it into an assignment. Thanks for learning along with me!

*section numbers in parentheses refer to the relevant section of the Catechism of the Catholic Church