Communion of the saints and the "me and Jesus" theology.

A friend recently asked me why she should ask the saints to pray for her. Why go to St. Joe, when you can go straight to God? I gave her the typical answers: You ask other earthly-people to pray for you, why not avail yourself of those who are closer to God? All of Christianity is one Body. All of us, throughout every time and age are united in one mystical Body. And just as in a body, each part relies on other parts for its own good. Availing oneself of the intercession of the Saints is akin to a cell in the arm availing itself of nutrients carried to it from the digestive system. All of this is made possible through and is for the purpose of God’s glory. But tonight, it occurred to me that these answers don’t penetrate to the heart of the matter.

The central issue here is really the central issue of all Catholic dogma. That is, how does God desire to be worshiped?

We often follow Korah’s path and ask, “Why do we need a Pope, when we all have the Holy Spirit?” “Why do I need to go to church? It’s just a building filled with ungracious people. I feel more worshipful when I walk on the beach.” “Why do I need the Eucharist? I have Jesus in my heart.” “Why do I need Baptism? The Bible says: ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved.’” “Why should I confess to a priest, when I can confess directly to my Lord?” “Why ought I commune with the saints, when I can commune directly with God?”

These-- and a thousand questions like them-- are really one big question: How do we know the right way to worship? Is there a ‘right’ way? Is the act of Christian worship analogous to the sacrificial act of Genesis 4? Or are there many right ways?

The answer seems to be a little bit of both. Some dogmas are required for proper worship, lest our worship be seen in the same manner as Cain’s sacrifice. Other dogmas, while not required for worship, are there to draw us deeper into God. The required dogmas are few and simple. They can be found in the ancient creeds. The enhancing dogmas are many, diverse, and beautiful. They deepen our worship and fill it with life and color. Prayers to the saints fall into this latter category.

In His wisdom and mercy, God has elected to use his creatures as a means to distribute and convey His grace. If God were a professor, his classes would involve lots of class-participation. If he were an artist, He would seem to desire to be seen with and sometimes through His art more often than He would wish to be seen alone. He is not a solitary God, but a social one. His house isn’t a sterile, empty city loft, occupied by a sole, self-absorbed tenant. It is a grand, warm, and inviting family farm-- overflowing with happy children.

Protestantism, as a general rule, is individualistic. In its birth, it severed itself from any authority save the authority of “me and Jesus”. And this can be seen in the way Protestants understand (or generally overlook) the subject of the communion of the saints.

Why ask the saints to pray with you? For the same reason you wouldn’t ignore the art and stare solely at the artist. For the same reason you wouldn’t ignore the children and lock yourself in a room with the Father. Why ask the saints to pray with you? Because this is the way God designed his Kingdom to work. An artist is more fully known and appreciated when you interact with and appreciate his art. God is more fully known and more fully glorified by you when you know Him in His Word, in your heart, in nature, and in others.

A different view of faith?

I am just wondering if one major difference between Protestants and Catholics is their concept of faith or saving faith. The Catholics believe that faith has to be living as James states. Protestants so put the stress on faith alone that they tend to deny an active faith that works as being a necessary aspect of salvation. Both the Protestants and the Catholics believe that faith comes from grace. Both believe we must put our faith in Christ our savior for salvation. The difference seems to be that the Catholics believe faith is as Jesus defines it. It is not a faith that just calls Jesus Lord and does not follow him. It is a living active faith. Protestants seem to be able to separate faith from a faith that is working. This seems not only strange to me, but against the gospels, against James, against Paul's statements about walking in the Spirit, against Revelation ....in short against the whole Bible--including the Old Testament

Written by KD

L'Abri on the New Catholicism

A very strongly reformed friend of mine recently lent me a lecture from L'Abri on the New Catholicism. In it, the lecturer contends that the Catholic church changed radically and fundamentally after Vatican II. It is now a liberal church, affording salvation outside of the church and even outside of an explicit knowledge of Christ. He asserts that the Church has bought into moral and theological relativity in order to usher in a dangerous period of ecumenicalism.

I shared this with mom, who then asked what I thought of it. Here was my response:

I think it’s a warning that there are enemy voices with Catholic microphones. There always have been, and there always will be.

He tries to make it sound as if this is a novel thing—as if the Church has never faced changes of this nature. In one sense, he’s right, but ultimately, I think he’s wrong. Look at any period in the Church’s history, and you’ll find her battling heresy at all levels of the Church’s hierarchy. No sooner had she sufficiently tamped down a heresy than a new one would spring up to replace it. There’s a reason the Bible calls this life a spiritual battle. Sometimes those battles are loud and public. Sometimes, they are more subdued. So yes, the Church is facing something new, but it is at the same time something old.

He mentioned the modernist movement at the beginning of last century and how it was ruthlessly crushed by the pope. Kudos to the pope for doing his job. But ruthless crushing is not the only way to fight such problems. Different cultural and environmental settings call for different disciplinary approaches.

Vatican II brought with it a great deal of uncertainty. Big changes create confusion. Confusion is fertile soil for deception. Thus, in the decades following Vatican II, liberal theologians stepped in to capitalize on a rare opportunity. This time, the pope wasn’t so ruthless in stamping out the heresies. Does that mean that something has changed and for once heresy has won? No.

Recall the Church near the time of the Reformation. She was far astray at some very high levels. (Our friend from L’Abri could have made his case much more strongly then than now...) At that time, as in many before and since, God steered her back on course. Trace her course through history, and you will not see a straight line but something mildly resembling a sine curve. When she drifts to the north, the wind of the Spirit blows her southward. When she drifts south, a warm southern breeze nudges her back on course.

The Church herself, the papacy, the catechisms, the dogmas, and the doctrines seem to be solid and unshaken. With the new mass translations, the recent focus on Sacred Scripture, and the upcoming focus on evangelization, I think we see that the Church is pushing firmly against theological liberalism, relativism, and heresy.

Now, if I’m wrong, and heresy has won, and the Church has turned to false liberal ideology, I will be a little canoe adrift on a great, black sea. What other church holds the Biblical view of the Eucharist? Where else can I find the Church of history? Where can I go to find brothers and sisters with a Biblical, historical, and Traditional view of relics, sacramental life, communion of the saints, the authority of Peter? Nowhere. I feel that I must say to the Catholic Church: “Where else can I go? You have the words of eternal life.”

Conversion

I recently sent a Protestant friend one of Scott Hahn's lectures. She asked me what I thought, and here is my response:

As I see it, the Catholic church is similar to Christ in this respect: she and He both make claims about themselves which give you only one of two options. You're familiar with the whole lunatic, liar, or Lord argument. Well, a similar line of thought must be applied to the Catholic church, for she claims to be The Church, set forth by Christ, unerring in doctrine through out all ages, and the pillar and ground of the truth. Further, she claims Papal infallibility, the ability to forgive sins via the sacrament of Confession in which the priest speaks in persona Christi, the physical and spiritual presence of Christ in the Eucharist... to list only a few. These are bold claims! As I see it, one is forced to make an all-or-nothing assessment of their validity. She's who she claims to be, or She's something twisted and diabolical, for she claims to do what only God can do.

Christ didn't leave us with the option of seeing him as just a good teacher. Neither does the Catholic Church leave us with the option of seeing her as just one slightly flawed church out of many.

Regarding conversion, I'm OK with the use of that word. They don't just use that word for people coming into the church, but also for people who are moving and growing within the church. Conversion can simply be defined as a change from one state or condition to another. To Catholics, all of life is one big conversion, consisting of many little ones. So while your entrance to the church is a rather large conversion, it is only one of many. For instance, when you say confession and do penance, you are (hopefully) being converted into a deeper state of grace.

Anyway, I hope I don't come across as strident, dogmatic or domineering. I'm pretty excited about all of this Catholic stuff, but I worry that my enthusiasm might be misunderstood at times. If I were to give a summary of my current view, it's that the core doctrines of the Reformation "sola fide" and "sola scriptura" are both false. That's a pretty strong statement, but I absolutely believe it. And as for the Catholic Church, it's taken a while, but I think I'm as far as my reason can stretch, and it's time for me to step out in faith. I think She is who She claims to be.

(And what a surprising and beautiful Bride she is!)

Follow up to Contraception.

In "Rome Sweet Home", Scott Hahn lays down a clear case for the Catholic position on contraception. Marriage is a sacrament. It's also a covenant. All covenants involve an exchange of people. They all come with renewal ceremonies. In marriage, this ceremony is sex. To contracept is analogous to taking the host, and then spitting out the wafer...

He builds the case more plainly than I can do in a paragraph, but suffice it to say the case is satisfactorily closed.

Humanae Vitae

I recently read Humanae Vitae, and I have to say I'm unconvinced. This puts me in a strange predicament. I have reached the point where I view the Church as God's authority on earth, as the authoritative interpreter of Holy Scripture, and as the pillar and ground of the truth. But this doesn't mean my mind has ceased to work.

Humanae Vitae claims that to willfully block the procreative act is contrary to natural law and is thus not permitted. However, in order to avoid pregnancy, it is perfectly fine for a couple to abstain from sex except in periods of natural female infertility. As far as I can tell, the logic seems to run like this: God created man and female for procreative purposes. The sex act is the means by which that procreation naturally occurs. To introduce something unnatural to this process for contraceptive purposes is to run contrary to the way God made things.

But I don't buy this logic. One may easily find numerous examples of when we can and should interfere with "the natural order of things". For example, if a river keeps flooding a town, it is perfectly reasonable that that town should divert the river into pools and reservoirs. Farmers are constantly fighting against the natural order of things in order to prevent arable land from reverting back to the "natural" tangle of meadows and forests. In fact, the overwhelming pattern of human existence is to interfere in the natural (and fallen!) order of things. Indeed, this is probably what it means to steward the earth.

It seems to me that man should use his mental facilities to create a more verdant, healthy, and happy world. This will necessarily involve working against the "natural disorder" and towards a more cultivated order.

I suppose, one must ask if there is a philosophy which must guide man in this quest. According to the Encyclical, to take advantage of a woman's natural cycles is to "use a faculty provided them by nature." To use a man-made contraceptive is to "obstruct the natural development of the generative process."

If we were to use this philosophy in all of our actions, we would have a very different world, indeed. By this logic, one could never, for instance, build a dam, for to do so would be to obstruct the natural development of the river. If one ponders this for a moment, one easily thinks of numerous counter-examples.

I'd also like to address a tangential point, namely some of the predictions made by the Encyclical. It says that in a world where contraceptive methods are easily accessible and accepted, men "may forget the reverence due to a woman, and, disregarding her physical and emotional equilibrium, reduce her to being a mere instrument for the satisfaction of his own desires..." This is not a problem brought about by contraceptives, but rather by the fall. Can there be any question that men have always, throughout all of time, objectified and mistreated women? The Old Testament is filled with such behavior. Contraceptives neither encourage nor discourage this.

Now, I can say this: that if we were to follow the philosophy set forth in Humanae Vitae, I do think we'd have a much better world. In fact, we'd have a world in which human dwellings would have a very small ecological footprint. We'd have a world in which man never radically changed nature, but rather guided and guarded it. No big, unnatural roadways, factories, dams... No massive industrial farms raping the land and keeping animals stacked atop one another in inhumane conditions... We'd look much less like Americans and much more like Native Americans. Maybe that's not such a bad thing. But I don't think that's what the Catholic Church had in mind when it penned Humanae Vitae.

Merits

I have a friend who is of the Seventh Day Adventist persuasion. He and I were discussing the Catholic doctrine of the merits of the saints.

After poking around a bit, and talking to a priest today, this seems to be the essence of the doctrine: we are all a part of the communion of the saints. We are all members of the body of Christ. In a sense, if one of us is joined with a prostitute, we all are affected. And likewise, if one of us is holy, we all are affected. In a body, when the mouth consumes good food, the entire body is nourished. When it consumes poison, the entire body is injured. He used the blood-stream as his example, stating that the merits of the saints flow to us today, that this spiritual body spans all of time. There is a real, spiritual transfer of health going on: the body supporting and sustaining itself through the unity and working of the Holy Spirit.

It's a pretty difficult pill for this protestant to swallow, though I can see how it might have developed from certain Biblical stories. For instance, God regularly did things like spare Israel "because of His servant David" who had been dead for generations. You have the notion of the prayers of the righteous availing much, which isn't exactly the same, but is in the general vicinity.

Anyway, I'm definitely going to have to search the NT and read the early fathers on this one...