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Can You Choose the Wrong Husband or Wife? In this video, Jimmy Akin explores this question and explains how God wants us to use our gift of free will.
Transcript:
Um, I&#8217;ve discerned into marriage and proposed to my girlfriend. Problem is, I&#8217;m experiencing cold feet and severe stress with a chance I picked the wrong person. Told myself, just trust God. If He wanted me to be with someone else, He’d move my heart in another direction. But since many have tried to tell me God doesn&#8217;t have a particular individual planned out for anyone, i.e., a soulmate, not sure God will ever intervene. Should I be expecting help from God?
Okay, well, um, I would say that what people have told you—that God doesn&#8217;t have a single individual who&#8217;s like destined for you and you either get that person or you miss forever—I would say those people are right. This idea of a soulmate is not something that&#8217;s found in the Bible. And we see, um, people like the patriarch Abraham—he was originally married to Sarah, but after she passed on, he got married to a woman named Keturah. And as far as we know, they had a successful marriage. Moses had more than one wife too, one after the other. And so, um, it&#8217;s not like there&#8217;s this one and only person out there for you. You&#8217;ve got options.
And so I would say if, uh, you&#8217;re having cold feet, well, that&#8217;s understandable. I remember when I got married, it—you know, there was a certain moment when we were actually saying the vows, and we got up to the &#8220;I take you to be my spouse&#8221; part, and I&#8217;m starting to say that, and all of a sudden, I&#8217;m getting really weak in the knees. Um, and actually, I&#8217;m told if you watch videos of people, um, getting married, sometimes you&#8217;ll see one of the two parties just faint on the spot as they&#8217;re saying the vows, because you&#8217;ve got that adrenaline going with the fight-or-flight reflex. And what that does—when you have the fight-or-flight reflex—is it, um, will suck blood away from your head in order to enable you to run. And sucking the blood away from your head can cause you to faint.
Um, so that is something that, you know, one can experience. I&#8217;ve experienced that. I&#8217;ve been—I&#8217;ve had butterflies, uh, regarding, &#8220;Do I want to say these vows or not?&#8221; And in fact, um, I&#8217;ve been told that about a third of all marriage licenses that get taken out end up not getting used. So, like, a lot of people do get cold feet.
Um, whether and what to do in your situation—I would say divine revelation is always a gift. It is, and it is not to be presumed. So I think it&#8217;s fine for you to ask God to give you a sign. And it needs to be a notable sign, not just, &#8220;May the sun come up tomorrow.&#8221; It needs to be something really unexpected. And I would name the sign that you want, because otherwise, you leave anything strange that happens open to, &#8220;Oh, that&#8217;s the sign, that’s the sign!&#8221; Um, no. Name it. If you&#8217;re going to ask God for a sign, name the sign, and it needs to be something rare.
Um, so you can ask God for a sign to give you guidance one way or another on this question. But do not expect the sign. God may or may not choose to give it. And God&#8217;s not in the business of giving signs that often. So if it happens, great. But don&#8217;t expect it.
What do you do in the absence of God, um, giving you a sign? Well, you fall back on human reason. He gave you your gift of reason to guide you through this life, and He expects you to use it. So use your reason to look at the situation and say, &#8220;Is this person someone that would be good to be married to for the rest of my life, to hopefully raise a family with?&#8221;
Um, if you see major warning signs now, I would say listen to those warning signs, because people are on their best behavior when they&#8217;re trying to get married. When they start slacking off is after the vows have been said, and they don&#8217;t have to worry about, &#8220;Am I going to catch this person or not?&#8221; You&#8217;ve already been caught at that point. So people are on—it&#8217;s like a job interview. People are on their best behavior when they&#8217;re in the job interview. And so if you see danger signs now, then you should appropriately consider those.
On the other hand, you shouldn&#8217;t expect a perfect marriage where it&#8217;s going to be bliss every minute and you&#8217;re never going to—you&#8217;re never going to have frustrations or get mad at each other or things like that, because that&#8217;s not life. Um, even good marriages have difficulties that the partners have to go through. So don&#8217;t let a few difficulties scare you off. That&#8217;s just part of life. That&#8217;s going to happen whether you get married or not. So don&#8217;t be afraid of difficulties. But if you see major warning signs now, take them seriously.
Use your own intellect. And since your emotions are wrapped up in this, you&#8217;re not necessarily the best judge one way or the other, because your emotions, on the one hand, are pulling you to want to marry this person. But your fears are also pulling you to want to not marry this person. I would—I would talk to people who know you and know your prospective spouse, like maybe your parents or friends or things like that, and say, &#8220;What do you think?&#8221; Swear them to privacy, because you don&#8217;t want to undermine what, uh, you know, what your spouse is thinking. Um, and don&#8217;t go probing into, &#8220;Oh, maybe my fiancé has been having similar conversations.&#8221; Leave those things to the privacy of your fiancé, and keep your own privacy.
But, you know, think about talking to people who know both of you and say, &#8220;I just wanted to get your perspective on this. What do you think?&#8221; without trying to prejudice it one way or another, and get their ideas as well. Because they have—they&#8217;re coming from a position that&#8217;s less emotionally invested, and therefore, um, they may have some additional insights or perspective that you would otherwise miss.
How&#8217;s that for marriage advice, Matt?
Yeah, yeah, um, yeah, great stuff. Um, I appreciate that. I mean, going back to the—the idea of a soulmate, I just have a hard time believing God doesn&#8217;t care who I marry, because He cares what—oh—which occupation you pick. So why wouldn&#8217;t He help you out, or why wouldn&#8217;t He have a preference with a arguably more important decision in marriage?
Who—who says God cares what occupation you pick? You could be a doctor, you could be an engineer, you could be a lawyer, you could flip burgers—you could do any number of things to glorify God by doing work in the world. Now, He may have given you certain talents and opportunities that make it logical for you to pursue a particular career, but that&#8217;s not the only one. You could do lots of things. People change careers throughout their lives.
I kind of compare it to buying bread in the store. You know, there&#8217;s—at least here in America—there&#8217;s a bunch of different kinds of bread, and they all work. And so you&#8217;ve got a choice. It&#8217;s not like God really wants you to pick the Wonder Bread rather than the Oroweat bread, you know? God doesn&#8217;t really care about that. Um, God wants you to have adequate food. But what food you buy is up to you. And so, um, what career you pick to glorify God is up to you. He&#8217;s got a bunch of options for you.
Similarly, who you marry and who you glorify God by being married to—that&#8217;s up to you. He&#8217;s got a bunch of options that are just fine. And so, just like there&#8217;s not one person you&#8217;ve got to marry, or one career you&#8217;ve got to identify, or one job you&#8217;ve got to get, or one loaf of bread above all other loaves of bread that you&#8217;ve got to buy—it just doesn&#8217;t work that way. God gives us options, and we glorify Him by using our free will among those options.
With that, the, uh, Jimmy Marriage Advice Line will shut down right there. So, thank you so much for your call. Uh, we&#8217;re going to go to our break, and when we come back, we&#8217;ll continue more with &#8220;Ask Me Anything with Jimmy Akin.&#8221;
&nbsp;

“Did I Choose the Wrong Wife?”

<div>My sister’s son—my nephew—had surgery three years ago and identifies as a “transgender woman.” He’s now thirty-two. They’ll be attending another relative’s wedding soon. Should I go to that wedding, since my nephew will be present as “a woman”? Also, I don’t want my grandchildren exposed to this yet. They’re ages eleven, nine, and seven. Thankfully, they are not invited to the wedding, but what about summer? We each have cottages on the same lake. </div><div>In attending this wedding and interacting with your sister and your nephew at the event, you’re not promoting your nephew’s transgender identity. If he were attempting “marriage,” or was having a “coming out” party as “Audrey,” participating in such an event would be morally problematic, because you’d be at least condoning his actions by your participation. 
But that’s not the case. 
Instead, your nephew is going to be one of many guests at another relative’s authentic wedding. 
Boycotting the wedding because of your nephew’s presence would not be a good witness to the couple getting married, or to your nephew and sister. Nor would attending the wedding and shunning both your nephew and your sister. 
Your sister and nephew shouldn’t be shunned, as you correctly have concluded. Our true and ultimate enemies are fallen angels, not mere human beings (see Eph. 6:12). Your nephew is a human person made in God’s image and likeness (Gen. 1:26–27), and so deserves to be loved, as Jesus witnessed in dying on the cross for everyone. Your nephew and your sister are candidates for conversion—and we are all in need of God’s mercy for one reason or another. 
In that light, I’d continue the course you’ve taken. Continue to love your sister and nephew, which you understand necessarily entails <a href="https://www.catholic.com/qa/the-churchs-position-on-transgenderism-0">not supporting them</a> re: his transgender identity. That gives you a lot of room to talk, and hug, and otherwise convey your love, as he and his mother (your sister) need people like you in their lives. 
Regarding exposing your younger grandchildren to your nephew, that is a prudential matter, and one for which you can provide input to their parents. 
With the permission and cooperation of your grandchildren’s parents, you could help explain to your grandchildren that your nephew is confused, struggling with his identity, and needs to be authentically loved. 
In that regard, if your grandchildren do have interactions with your nephew, I’d monitor the situation with their parents, speaking with your grandchildren afterwards about such interactions, so that your nephew doesn’t try to coerce them into a misguided sympathy about his transgender identity, or at least doesn’t succeed in doing so. I don’t want to presume bad will by your nephew in this regard, but it’s also important not to be naïve. 
In summary, for your direct part, I would encourage you and your spouse to maintain good communication with your sister and your nephew, because, again, they need faithful Catholics like you in their lives, as they might not experience the gospel truth in word and deed from anyone else. 
</div>

How to Love Trans Relatives

“But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, and the elements will be dissolved with fire, and the earth and the works that are upon it will be burned up.”
How is Advent different from Lent? On the surface, we might point to things like violet vestments and no flowers, interrupted by a single Sunday of rose; a dropping of the Gloria in Excelsis in Advent as well as the Alleluia in Lent. Both are seasons of waiting. In Lent we prepare for the feast of the Resurrection, the central fact and foundation of our faith, so the penitence and fasting and discipline are focused on preparing our hearts to understand and experience the mighty acts of redemption that we walk through ritually in the Sacred Triduum. In Advent, obviously, we’re preparing for the great feast of the Nativity. And the readings, especially in these early weeks, present a similarly sobering assortment of reminders that we do not know the span of our life, or of history.
With Lent and Easter, I think, this penitential emphasis makes sense to us because we know that the climax isn’t just the Resurrection, but also the cross. Easter is a reminder of God’s victory on our behalf, and the penitence of Lent helps us confront the horror of Good Friday and all the ways that we need that divine victory over sin and death. That is the basic sense of Easter. Despite the best attempts of the market, Easter has never been commercialized quite as successfully as Christmas, because it is hard to make a generic secular message out of the theme of Christ trampling down death with death and bringing life to those in the grave.
With Christmas, though, there’s a baby, and a birth, which seems so much more normal and innocuous. And so over the years it has morphed into that generic celebration of life and family and consumerism that we all know and love. But none of this makes a whole lot of sense with the message of Advent and Christmas as the Church actually presents it. Somehow, if we’re to take the texts seriously, Christmas is about joy, yes, and comfort—but also judgment, the Day of the Lord, the end of the world. It is about the dissolution, as St. Peter writes, of the world in fire and loud noise.
Being a child of the ’80s, and <a href="https://www.catholic.com/tract/celibacy-and-the-priesthood">a parent of small children</a>, I’m fond of the classic Mr. Rogers song: “I think it&#8217;s very, very, very hard to wait / Especially when you&#8217;re waiting / For something very nice.” On a practical level, that obviously applies to Christmas. Usually around this time in Advent we start getting presents in the mail from extended family. They’re wrapped. They’re visible. But they must not yet be opened. That’s hard. And so usually we just hide them, because small children are not actually very good at waiting. And I think as well of the countless people who just cannot wait to put up their Christmas decorations—whether it’s at the stroke of midnight after Halloween, or Thanksgiving, or December 1—or any number of other dates. Certainly, in these times of international anxiety and deep social division, I understand the longing for Christmas cheer. But what are we actually celebrating?
Is Christmas “something very nice,” in the words of Mister Rogers? Well, yes and no. It’s the appearance, in the flesh, of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. This is cause for joy, as the angelic hosts proclaim. But it is also cause for fear and trembling, as the angelic hosts also proclaim. For a baby, like the Lord, comes in the night as a thief. And his arrival is a cause for terror as much as joy.
In a way, I think every parent knows this. I have six children, and at the birth of each one, I burst into tears. I really have no idea why. It’s not as though I was the one doing the real work. It just happened. Yes, they were happy tears. But they were also tears of fear and sadness, and confusion, and just being overwhelmed by the gravity of life and death and everything.
Like any other birth, the birth of the incarnate God is a judgment on us. It’s not a simple gift of cupcakes and flowers. It is the embrace of a hard, demanding love, a love that goes beyond death. And so Advent is not just waiting, as in waiting to open our presents; it’s waiting so that we can be ready to receive the challenge that is the God incarnate, the challenge that is God entering our lives and giving us the grace to do his will.
Returning to our epistle reading in 2 Peter, the idea of the elements melting and being dissolved in fire is a favorite prooftext of a certain Protestant contempt for creation that was once, at least, quite common in the evangelical world—the idea that it doesn’t matter what we do with this world, because it’s all going to burn. But such an emphasis neglects the actual climax of the passage, which echoes that of Revelation: according to Peter, “we wait for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.” For Peter, as for John in Revelation, it is exactly because this world is passing away that we must take it seriously.
This world isn’t a trial run. It’s not a beta test. We get to do it only once. It is the real preparation of the world to come, and this preparation has an end point that we do not know. And so this waiting isn’t just a test of patience and resolve; it’s a process of transformation, in which we open ourselves, over the course of the Christian year, over the course of a lifetime of Advents, to the life of the new kingdom that Christ brings. We receive the gift of Christ anew each Christmas because, unlike most human gifts, he is the gift that not only keeps giving, but keeps taking. He doesn’t just want you and me from that magical Christmas when you were seven; he wants you and me this Christmas, next Christmas, every day, every hour. We are human beings, not boxes of fudge, and to give ourselves in love for real involves fidelity over time. The sacraments aren’t financial transactions; they are food that nourishes us to grow.
As John the Baptist calls us over the next couple of weeks to new repentance, to a preparation for the Lord’s coming, God help us to heed his warnings and forsake our sins, to “cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light,” judging ourselves as we will one day be judged, so that when the Lord does come—whether at Christmas, or at the end of the world, or even today at this altar—he will find us, as one old prayer says, a mansion prepared for himself. Amen.

The Christmas Gift that Keeps on Taking

One of the banes of modern liturgies is worship songs that <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/the-problem-with-bad-church-music">fail to reflect</a> the beauty and truth of the Faith. In the worst cases, these songs undermine the Faith through dubious if not downright heretical lyrics. The U.S. bishops even have <a href="https://www.usccb.org/resources/Catholic%20Hymnody%20at%20the%20Service%20of%20the%20Church_0.pdf">a document</a> on the subject, “Catholic Hymnody at the Service of the Church: An Aid for Evaluating Hymn Lyrics.”
<h2>All Are Welcome</h2>
One hymn that serves as an excellent case study in applying the document’s message would be “All Are Welcome” by Marty Haugen, which was at one point <a href="https://www.catholicnewsagency.com/news/260195/diocese-bans-all-are-welcome-other-hymns-from-catholic-masses">banned in some dioceses</a>.
Whenever you say “All Are Welcome” is a bad hymn, you get accused of being . . . well, not welcoming. But this song makes it sound as though we are trying to recruit people into our club to boost membership, not call people to repentance to receive the holy sacrifice of the Eucharist. Here are some of the lyrics:
Let us build a house
Where love can dwell 
And all can safely live 
A place where 
Saints and children tell 
How hearts learn to forgive
Built of hopes and dreams and visions 
Rock of faith and vault of grace 
Here the love of Christ shall end divisions
The hymn keeps repeating the phrase “let us build a house,” which makes it sound as if we sinners create the Church instead of the Church creating us. The USCCB doctrinal committee agrees with this and calls the hymn objectionable on ecclesiological grounds.
It also makes it sound as though God died on the cross, and now it’s up to us to grow the Church, so we need to make sure everyone feels “welcome”—which, for some people who love this song, means not sharing any teachings on things <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/the-truth-about-sex">like sexuality</a> that could remind them of sins they must reject because then they might feel unwelcome.
<h2>Bad Hymns and the Eucharist</h2>
But the hymn gets even worse when we get to how it describes the Eucharist, the source and summit of our faith:
Let us build a house where love is found 
In water, wine and wheat 
A banquet hall on holy ground 
Where peace and justice meet
The USCCB says, “Someone who sings this song frequently would have a hard time imagining that the Eucharist can be and is worshiped or is in any sense a ‘sacrifice.’” Instead, the song, like many bad hymns, treats the Eucharist as a common meal whose purpose is to gather us into one place, from which we will then go out and do works of social justice or something.
In fact, the most common reason a hymn is theologically bad is because it pushes a false view of the Eucharist. The USCCB doctrinal committee gives three principles to keep hymns from pushing eucharistic heresy:
<ol>
<li>
<blockquote>Language that implies that the elements are still bread and wine after consecration should be avoided.</blockquote>
</li>
<li>
<blockquote>Language that implies the bread and wine, still bread and wine, are merely symbols of another reality or person should be avoided.</blockquote>
</li>
<li>
<blockquote>Poetic license should conform to customary usage of Scripture and liturgical Tradition. “Bread,” “Bread of Life,” etc. are scriptural synecdoches for the Eucharist itself, and so are permitted.</blockquote>
</li>
</ol>
A synecdoche is a figure of speech that uses a part to refer to the whole. For example, if a military officer says, “We have fifty boots on the ground for the mission,” he means there are fifty soldiers for the mission with the boots representing the whole soldier. Likewise, a hymn can in some cases use the word “bread” to refer to the entire reality of the Eucharist, which has only the appearance of bread. However, as the USCCB goes on to say,
<blockquote>“wine” is not used in the same way, and to call the consecrated element “wine” gives the impression that it is still wine. This, in turn, has an impact on the way the word “bread” is heard, so that legitimate uses of the word “bread” are heard differently, not as a synecdoche for the Eucharist as a whole, but as a reference to the element which remains bread. Scripture speaks of the “cup,” not of “wine” (see 1 Cor. 10.16-17).</blockquote>
A few hymns that commit this error include “God Is Here!”, which says, “Here as bread and wine are taken, Christ sustains us as of old,” and “Three Days,” which says, “The dead do not arise, yet he walks among us, and with our own eyes, we’ve seen him at this table, we’ve shared his bread and wine.”
<h2>All Are Welcome, All About Us</h2>
The other common trait in most of these songs is that they are all about us. We are singing about how good we are, how God uses us, or what we want God to do for us, instead of just singing the praises of the Almighty God. “All Are Welcome” puts the emphasis on those of us attending church. This is especially prominent in Haugen’s other well-known hymn, “Gather Us In”:
We are the young, our lives are a mystery 
We are the old who yearn for your face 
We have been sung throughout all of history 
Called to be light to the whole human race
I spend the whole week hearing about the young and the old and all the people of this life who think they’re so important. Is it too much to ask that for one hour a week, I just sing about the greatness of the God, whom our society almost never talks about?
Many bad hymns are essentially humanist tracts dressed up in God language. Their message is that God should just help us be nice to one another and not upset anyone, especially with religious talk.
<h2>Ugly Art Hurts the Faith</h2>
In a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vkgDoQtRCIA">previous episode</a> on my channel on why <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/the-death-of-liberal-catholicism">liberals love ugly art</a>, I said it is because ugly art turns us inward to glorify human traits, like subverting expectations, whereas truly beautiful art lifts us up to the divine. The same is true of banal, ugly music: it keeps us focused on ourselves instead of lifting us up to the divine. That’s why the Second Vatican Council said, “The Church acknowledges Gregorian chant as specially suited to the Roman liturgy: therefore, other things being equal, it should be given pride of place in liturgical services” (Sacrosanctum Concilium, 116).
Ironically, worship songs that focus on glorifying God and exhibit the objective traits of beautiful music will be appealing to all people . . . and let them know, as human beings hardwired to pursue the true, the good, and the beautiful, that “all are welcome” in this sacred space.

‘All Are Welcome’ to Avoid This Hymn

How, according to Albert Einstein (and later, Pope Benedict XVI), did science point to a Divine Intelligence who created the universe? And is this claim refuted (or supported) by quantum physics?

Why Einstein Thought Science Disproved Atheism

Cy Kellett engages with Trent Horn as they dive into a thought-provoking discussion about the requirements of Catholic practice and the nature of belief. Charles from Texas shares his unique perspective on faith, blending elements from various religions while expressing admiration for certain Catholic beliefs, like the intercession of saints. Trent responds with clarity, exploring the significance of Church attendance and the richness of Catholic tradition.
Transcript:
Cy: Why are you not a Catholic?
Caller: Pretty much just no time. And you guys require to be in church every single week and certain days throughout the whole year. And I don&#8217;t understand why you would have to have all that to believe in God and to be a part of a church.
Trent: Okay. Charles, can I ask you a question? Do you identify as having religious beliefs right now?
Caller: Well, I was raised. I was raised kind of. I don&#8217;t know. I was raised to believe in God, but I kind of winded off and I was. I&#8217;m kind of a mixture. And I believe in. I believe a lot more than any religion out there because I studied religion for probably 15 years.
Trent: Okay.
Caller: And comes at the conclusion that they&#8217;re all wrong. And I believe in a lot of what Christians believe. I believe a lot of what Wiccans believe, but I also believe a lot of what Catholics believe. Oh, what part of no religion out there.
Trent: Okay, I&#8217;m just curious, Charles, what part of what Catholics believe do you also believe?
Caller: I believe that saints watch over you and you can talk to them and they&#8217;ll talk back to you or whatever. And I believe, you know, I mean, I like the rosary and I believe in. I believe that Mary watches over me because I&#8217;m. And like St. Christopher. I&#8217;m a truck driver.
Trent: Yeah. In all your travels.
Caller: I&#8217;m traveling all the time.
Trent: Yeah. Do you believe that Jesus is doing that same thing? He&#8217;s resurrected in heaven. And that&#8217;s why all those saints can do that, because Jesus is watching over you and cares for you.
Caller: Oh, yeah.
Trent: Okay. So we believe Jesus is in heaven. He&#8217;s risen from the dead. To me. Well, I would just put it this way. If God created us, and he created us to know and love him, what percent of our lives should we be prepared to give him? If God created us, loves us, wants us to be in heaven with him, what percent of our lives should we be prepared to give back to God?
Caller: 90% of it.
Trent: Want to get an A. That is. That is. That is. That is commendable. Good. I personally probably would answer that 100%, because if God gave me everything I have, existence, everything I have in life, I should give him back everything I have.
Now, that doesn&#8217;t mean I&#8217;m going to be in a church for an entire week, praying nonstop. Like, I give back to God by going to work, by providing for my family, by spending time with my kids, by taking out the trash, doing what I have to do. But our life that we give back to God is more than just the work we do in this life.
That&#8217;s why actually one of the Ten Commandments, God gave us one of the commitments like he gave us in the Commandments. Don&#8217;t murder, don&#8217;t steal, don&#8217;t commit adultery, don&#8217;t work on the Sabbath like for Him. It&#8217;s that serious. And it makes sense because God wants us to have a day of rest.
Because if we get consumed with work, we get poured into ourselves and into this life and not realize we have to take time just to give worship to God and recognition to God and say, God, you are great and wonderful and I just want to adore you and thank you and want to become more holy just like you.
And so God wants us to set aside at least one day a week to do that. And at one hour is where not only do we praise and worship God as Catholics, we believe that Jesus is watching over us. We receive him in the Eucharist, that it&#8217;s bread and wine, but it&#8217;s the body and blood of Christ so that Jesus can dwell within our bodies to give us his grace, give us his very life.
So I guess for me, Charles, I know if you&#8217;re a truck driver, you&#8217;re driving a lot, spending nights at truck stops, and it&#8217;s a lot of hard work. But if you have one day off a week, I would just consider stopping by a Catholic church where you&#8217;re driving. You&#8217;re going to come across one somewhere, take some time out of your rig and go sit down in a pew and pray.
And if you&#8217;re there for Mass, that&#8217;d be awesome. And give God that time. Because this reminds me, people who say they don&#8217;t have a lot of time for God. There is a passage in the Gospels, in the Bible where Jesus, he went into the garden of Gethsemane and he prayed before he was crucified. And it&#8217;s called the Agony in the Garden.
And he was praying, understanding everything he was going to go through to die for our sins. But then when he went back to the disciples, this is what Matthew 26:40 says. It says, and he, Jesus came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And he said to Peter, so could you not watch with me one hour?
I think we can give God one hour a week. One hour going to Sunday Mass, worship and praise him. And if you&#8217;re Catholic, in a state of grace to receive him in the Eucharist.
So, you know, I hope you&#8217;ll consider that. And I hope, you know, you&#8217;ll keep driving, keep listening to Catholic Answers and call back again. We&#8217;d love to answer some of your questions, but thanks for calling in. Thanks, Charles.
Cy: Pretty soon we&#8217;ll have books on tape for you. I know that&#8217;s coming soon.
888-31-87884. The number. We&#8217;ll be right back with more &#8220;Why Aren&#8217;t You Catholic?&#8221; on Catholic Answers Live.

I’m Not Catholic Because I Work on Sunday…

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Is the Eucharist idolatry?

<div>How do parishes decide weekend Mass times? Are there any guidelines in canon law or the General Instruction of the Roman Missal?</div><div>Sunday Masses may be any time from 4 p.m. Saturday evening to Sunday before midnight (which sometimes happens at colleges and in Latin countries, where 9 p.m. Sunday Masses are not unheard of). That is the only norm there is, taken from canon 1248, 1 in the Code of Canon Law.  The 4 p.m. vigil time is customary, although there are those who would argue for 3 p.m. All this applies also to holy days that do not fall on Sunday.
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How Are Weekend Mass Times Set?

Luke 1:43, where Elizabeth proclaims Mary as the “Mother of my Lord,” is usually the go-to biblical text for defending Mary “Mother of God.” But did you know there’s another text that we can appeal to?
It’s Galatians 4:4. There, Paul writes, “When the time had fully come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law.” The key is that God’s Son is said to be born of a woman.
There are two things to unpack here.
First, assuming we accept early conciliar Christology, like that of the Council of Nicaea, God’s Son, the Word, is divine, and thus is properly called “God.”
Second, any woman who gives birth to a person is a mother to the person to whom she gives birth.
With these two things in place, we can reason as follows:
P1:  Any woman who gives birth to a person is a mother to the person to whom she gives birth.
P2:  Mary gave birth to God’s Son (per Gal. 4:4).
C1:  Therefore, Mary is the mother of God’s Son.
P3:  God’s Son is divine, and thus is properly called “God.”
C2:  Therefore, Mary is the mother of God.
With the argument laid out like this, it becomes clear what a person has to deny if he wants to deny Mary as the Mother of God. Such a person would have to deny either premise one, a mother is someone who gives birth to a person; premise two, Mary did not give birth to God’s Son; or premise three, God’s Son is not Divine.
Common sense tells us that we can’t deny premise one. The very definition of a biological mother is someone who gives birth to a person. Mothers don’t give birth to anything else, like a nature or a body. The subject that is birthed is a person.
No Christian can deny premise two without denying an essential truth of the Bible, a truth that Paul makes explicit: “God sent his Son, born of a woman.”
Finally, no Christian can deny the divinity of God’s Son, the Word, lest he cease being a Christian. Recall John 1:1: “In the beginning was the Word, the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
With a little help of reason to bring to light certain hidden premises, Galatians 4:4 provides a biblical basis for belief that Mary is the Mother of God, thereby providing another arrow in the quiver for hitting the target for this Marian dogma.

When Paul Does Your Homework for You

Is the Trinity explicit in Scripture?

How Exactly Did Jesus Take on a Body?

<div>Can someone go to hell if they don’t partake of the Eucharist? I believe I read somewhere that we need to take it once a year at least. Why? </div><div>Catholics are obliged to receive the Eucharist at least once a year (Code of Canon Law, canon 921 §1-2) to encourage the faithful to live a truly faithful life and benefit from the great sacramental graces of the Eucharist, since we are not supposed to receive Holy Communion in a state of mortal sin (Code of Canon Law, canon 916).
Regarding whether reception of the Eucharist is necessary for the salvation of souls, <a href="https://www.catholic.com/qa/is-the-eucharist-necessary-for-salvation">please see our previous answer on this subject.</a>
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Why Eucharist at Least Once a Year?

Here at Catholic Answers, we’re used to hearing (and never fail to be cheered by) stories of people turning or returning to the Catholic faith after years of wandering in unbelief or sects. Sometimes these people credit the work of our apostolate as an instrument in their conversion. And we’re used to hearing about people who make the hop from pure secularism to spirituality-without-religiosity. For a recent example, <a href="https://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/red-hot-chili-peppers-flea-reveals-moment-god-made-perfect-sense">bassist Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers,</a> who says he’s “not religious in any way” but does “kind of believe in God . . . like a divine energy.”
Hey, it’s a start. Maybe next he’ll start kind of believing in wearing shirts on stage.
We can get behind any conversion—from the Latin conversio, signifying a “turning around [toward God]”—however hesitating or incremental.
But some such stories do tempt my inner cynic. One is the tale of Sarah Hurwitz, former lead speechwriter for Michelle Obama who was <a href="https://www.npr.org/2023/07/02/1184875650/faith-religion-judaism-sarah-hurwitz">recently interviewed for NPR’s “Enlighten Me” series</a> about her return to her “childhood faith” of Judaism.
The general story would not be unfamiliar to many Catholic reverts. After her bat mitzvah at 13, Hurwitz said “thanks but no thanks” to the religion in which she’d been raised and for a couple decades sought, but did not find, spiritual fulfillment in worldly pursuits. Then, by seeming fluke occurrence, she found herself reconnecting with that religion and finding in it a needed feeling of purpose and peace.
Except, to hear her describe it, she didn’t reconnect with Judaism but with an NPR-sanitized version of it.
The first warning buzzer sounds when Hurwitz immediately makes it clear that her re-embrace of Judaism doesn’t involve anything so conventional as theism—“It wasn’t, ‘Oh, there’s a man in the sky taking care of everything.’ Nope.” Rather, it was “the idea of the spark of the divine in all of us.”
Now, in a sense this notion isn’t wholly incompatible with Judaism. After all, the Hebrew scriptures teach that we were created in the divine image. (And Christianity, which came from Judaism, teaches that through Christ we can be re-made in that image—divinized—by participation.) There are strains of a mystical tradition in rabbinic literature. But at root, in a plain, immediate sense, the God of the Jews is pretty darn transcendent. “Hear O Israel, the Lord your God is one,” goes the famous Shema (Deut. 6:4) at the heart of Jewish belief.
Or, in the words of the venerable “Theology 101” meme, “There is a God, and you are not him.” Historic Judaism is not about us but about God: his power and praiseworthiness, his wisdom, the favor he shows to his people. You can’t have Judaism, in a sense, without the “man in the sky.”
Traditional Judaism is also a religion of law and strict religious duty. But Hurwitz describes her version of it as “one big mindfulness practice” that is “calling you to notice the person in front of us and to respond lovingly and kindly and with generosity.” It’s “crowdsourced wisdom . . . about how to be a good person.” This sounds much less like Judaism and more like the <a href="https://www.catholic.com/audio/cot/cot-29">moral therapeutic deism</a> that has been slowly emerging as our national religion. Less “Law of Moses” and more “Church of Nice.”
I know: it sounds like I’m nitpicking this woman for the flaws in her conversion, and right after I said that conversion is always good even when incomplete! But it strikes me that there’s a difference between being on a journey and switching the street signs. Even imperfect conversion, when authentic, should leave us bound to some divine truth that has convicted us, not filtering that truth into something that works for us. Were a Catholic revert to announce that he had reconnected with the faith of his youth, and say that by that he means some universalist, low-Christology, morally libertine, highly politicized boutique wing of Catholicism, I would have the same reaction.
In fact, Hurwitz seems to recognize this very thing when she counsels her interviewer, who admitted to sampling from a “spiritual buffet,” to stop “picking and choosing the parts that move you and make you feel good” and instead to “step into [a religion] as a complete system.” Hear-hear. By God’s grace may she one day embrace the fullness of Judaism, the religion of God’s intervention in time to save his people, and then, perhaps, its fulfillment in Jesus Christ—the Jewish man who is also God.

Moral Therapeutic Judaism?

<div>Which animals does the Bible say were present at Jesus’ birth?</div><div>The Gospel writers do not directly mention animals present at Jesus&#8217; birth. Artists have inferred from the infancy narratives that there could have been a donkey (for Mary to ride during the journey to Bethlehem, since she was pregnant), oxen (since the Holy Family took shelter in a stable with a manger, which is used for feeding cattle), sheep (under the care of the shepherds), and camels (for the wise men to ride on their journey to visit the child Jesus). If we include the presentation of Christ in the Temple as part of the infancy narratives, then there were also two birds, either turtledoves or pigeons, which Joseph and Mary gave as their offering.
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Animals at the Manger

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Which Church did Christ establish?

<div>Did St. Jerome believe in the Eucharist? "When we hear the word of God, Christ’s body and blood is being poured into our ears." </div><div>What you cite is not actually from St. Jerome but a writing of Church Father Origen that St. Jerome translated. Origen <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/print-edition/origens-origin">undoubtedly had his doctrinal problems</a>, and yet he also wrote very well on other subjects, including the Eucharist.
In the text you cite, Origen actually affirms the reality of the Eucharist. He does so in comparing how the faithful rightfully respond when a eucharistic crumb falls to the floor by pointing out that they need to have similar reverence when God’s living word is preached to them.
The following excerpt is taken from <a href="https://w2.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/audiences/2002/documents/hf_jp-ii_aud_20020605.html">Pope John Paul II’s weekly General Audience on June 5, 2002</a>:
<blockquote>Origen, who comments on our Psalm in one of his homilies, translated and disseminated by St. Jerome in the West, actually interweaves the word of God with the Eucharist: &#8220;We read the Holy Scriptures. I believe that the Gospel is the Body of Christ. I believe that the holy Scriptures are his teaching. And when he says: he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood (John 6:53), although these words can also refer to the [eucharistic] mystery, yet the Body and Blood of Christ is truly a word of Scripture, the teaching of God. When we are about to receive the [eucharistic] mystery, if even a tiny crumb falls, we feel lost. When we are listening to God&#8217;s word, when our ears perceive the word of God and the body and blood of Christ, what great danger would we not fall into were we to think about something else?&#8221; (74 Omelie sul Libro dei Salmi [74 Homilies on the Book of Psalms], Milano 1993, pp. 543-544).</blockquote>
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Did Jerome Believe in the Eucharist?

<div>Is the Last Four Things a doctrine of the Church or a catechetical formula?</div><div>&#8220;The Last Four Things&#8221; is simply a popular expression of the final things of human existence. The Last Four Things are death, judgment, heaven, hell.  
Clearly, these are all things that the Church teaches and has doctrines regarding, but this popular general grouping is just that.  
As the <a href="http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/05528b.htm">Catholic Encyclopedia</a> notes in its entry on eschatology:
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The eschatological summary which speaks of the &#8220;four last things&#8221; (death, judgment, heaven, and hell) is popular rather than scientific. 
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What About the Last Four Things?

Global vs Local Relativism: Is There Absolute Truth?

<div>Why attend Mass if one is in state of mortal sin?</div><div>Missing Mass is itself a sin, so why add another sin on top of the sin(s) already committed? If I am already sick, why would I purposely injure myself further?
Mass involves hearing the word of God, which can help move our hearts to repentance and true conversion which is something someone in mortal sin would need.
The essence of sin is a turning against God or our neighbor. By skipping Mass, we avoid both God and neighbor and solidify ourselves in our sinful state, whereas attending Mass can help begin to heal those relationships.
Attending Mass in a state of sin and being unable to receive Communion is a powerful reminder of the consequences of sin and can move us to repent and avoid sin in the future.
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Attending Mass in Mortal Sin

<div>Can a woman become a Catholic chaplain?</div><div>Yes and no.
Yes, in the sense that, in the secular world, the term chaplain is used to describe someone who is in charge at that organization for a particular group&#8217;s spiritual care. In this case, it would be a situation where a layperson would be named &#8220;chaplain&#8221; by the organization itself (e.g., a hospital or prison). A woman can hold the role of a lay Catholic chaplain in such a scenario. However, neither she nor a male lay &#8220;chaplain&#8221; should ever attempt to fulfill a role that simulates the role of Catholic clergy.
No, in the sense that it would not be an official Church position. The Code of Canon Law (can. 564) defines a chaplain as a priest appointed by the local ordinary for the spiritual care of a particular group. It involves the granting of faculties and sacramental responsibility. To hold an official position as a chaplain within the Church, one must be a priest. Not even a deacon may be appointed a chaplain by the bishop.
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Female Catholic Chaplains?

Tim Staples delves into the complex theological concept of the kenosis, the self-emptying of Jesus Christ. The discussion explores whether Jesus withheld divine attributes during His earthly life and how the hypostatic union between His divine and human natures impacted His experience.
Transcript:
Is there any evidence for Jesus withholding divine attributes?
Right. Okay. It&#8217;s not that He withholds divine attributes.
It would be more proper to say, because of course, when you&#8217;re talking about Jesus in His divine personhood, He possesses all the divine attributes in full, because He&#8217;s God. The divine nature, as well as the three divine persons, cannot. It is impossible for a divine person to somehow deny the divine attributes. That&#8217;s metaphysically absurd, because they all three, of course, are the one God and possess all the, depending upon how you number them, the 14 or 15 divine attributes. Absolutely. All right. But what we are talking about in Jesus Christ, and here we go again. We&#8217;re talking about the kenosis once again. It&#8217;s in Christ&#8217;s humanity where the second person of blessed Trinity chose to humble himself. Let me think about that. That&#8217;s infinite humiliation of God, right? In the Incarnation,
in His humanity,
He withholds from what is His right, and that is the divine glory. You see, from the instant that Christ was conceived,
He merited by nature infinitely, right? From the first human act that He performed, He merited infinitely, and He continues to merit in every act, all the way up to and through the crucifixion of our blessed Lord, right? How can He merit infinite all the time? He can because of the hypostatic union, because everything that the human nature does must be understood to have as its subject the divine person. That&#8217;s what makes it infinitely propitiatory for our salvation. But He, the second person of blessed Trinity, chose to empty himself. Why?
Because if He accepted in His human nature the full reward of even His first action, guess what? He would be glorified. He would have the gifts of impassibility and subtility and agility and glory. All of that would be fully manifested in His human nature, and so therefore He wouldn&#8217;t be able to suffer. He wouldn&#8217;t be able to die, and so forth. And so He empties Himself of that which, you know,
Catholic theologians refer to it as His divine glory. But I think when they use that language, sometimes people get confused to think somehow He emptied Himself of His divinity. And that is heresy, okay? He can&#8217;t empty Himself of His divine nature. That&#8217;s metaphysically absurd. But what He could do is not&#8230; Here, the second person of blessed Trinity doesn&#8217;t permit the fullness of the glory that He has a right to, because He merited it, to be manifest. Why? So He could suffer and die for our sins, my friend. And you know, Cy and I were talking during the break of how if you look at Matthew 17 verses 1 through 3 in Luke&#8217;s version, in Luke chapter 17 verses 31 through about 35 there, and the transfiguration, what happens? He&#8217;s transfigured before Peter, James, and John. What is He doing? He&#8217;s manifesting what is His right, the fullness of the glory that awaits not only Him, but all of us. Amen. If we are faithful unto death, we will be glorified together with Him, says Paul in Romans chapter 8 verse 17.
We will be glorified together with Him if we suffer with Him in order to get there, right Cy? Well, Jesus, because He had it by right, He could manifest it anytime He wanted to, and He did. He gave them. Peter talks about this in 2 Peter chapter 1. Peter talks about how they saw His glory, and they&#8217;re talking about the transfiguration. Okay, so the point is, though, that Jesus, at every moment, He chose. This is why Jesus said, &#8220;Don&#8217;t you know I could snap my&#8230;&#8221; He didn&#8217;t say, &#8220;Snap my fingers.&#8221; I could call my Heavenly Father, and He would send a legion of angels and rescue me. But how would the Scriptures be fulfilled, right? In fact, He didn&#8217;t even need to call on the angels. He could do it Himself, you know. Jesus could, right? But what? He says, &#8220;How would the Scriptures be fulfilled?&#8221; Every instant. This is an important point to remember here.
When Jesus said in John chapter 10 verse 18, one of the most beautiful Johannine verses anywhere, &#8220;Think not that you take my life. I give it.&#8221; Right? &#8220;I give it as a ransom for many.&#8221; &#8220;I give it.&#8221; Why? Because nobody takes his life. He gives it. He could stop the whole carousel anytime he wants to. But there&#8217;s only one thing that keeps him on the cross, and that&#8217;s love.
The free choice of Him to continue to empty Himself for our salvation.

Did Jesus Christ Abandon His Divinity on Earth?

Most religious conversations between believers and nonbelievers lead to a contrast between religion and science. “Science is based upon reason; religion relies upon faith,” the nonbeliever will assert, believing that this in some way damages the respectability of belief. In fact, he is only echoing St. Thomas Aquinas, who taught that theology is done on the light of faith while philosophy—including the philosophy of nature and hence modern science—is based upon the natural light of reason. 
This, of course, is not what the nonbeliever wants to say. In contrasting religion and science, he is implying that the believer is a victim of superstition who fails to acknowledge that <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/is-the-only-real-knowledge-scientific-knowledge">only science can lead to true knowledge</a> because it alone is based on empirical verification and rigorous testing. 
How is the believer to respond? Is it true that science alone is rational because it is based on demonstration and logical reasoning? 
Most people would agree that religious faith is grounded in truths that cannot be demonstrated empirically using the scientific method. For the Catholic, these beliefs of faith are justified because they are accepted as true on the revelation and authority of God, who can neither deceive nor be deceived. What is not obvious is that scientific knowledge too must be grounded in essential, nonprovable beliefs about the nature of the universe. 
What follows is a brief summary of the scientific method that grounds the scientific enterprise. As many philosophers of science have shown, the success and justification of the method rests on premises that cannot be demonstrated. Instead, these premises are accepted as true by the scientific community because science would be unable to function without them. These premises constitute the essential beliefs of every scientist—his natural faith—and reflect his implicit acceptance of classical metaphysics. 
<h2>First step: induction</h2>
The first step in the scientific method involves the process of induction. The scientist looks around himself, collects data, then makes a probable conclusion. For example, all the swans he sees are white. He therefore proposes the hypothesis that all swans are white.  
But using this process of induction alone, the scientist can never assert truths with absolute certainty. No great number of white swans could rule out the possibility that the next swan could be black. Consequently, the scientist often constructs his hypothesis so that it can be verified and tested through experimentation. The experiment is then thought to confirm or dismiss the hypothesis. 
But even this safeguard cannot guarantee the truth of scientific conclusions. This is illustrated by a simple example used by the philosopher Richard Swinburne (Simplicity as Evidence of Truth, 15-19). Let us say that a scientist is analyzing data composed of four pairs of numbers, the first number in each set being designated “x” and the second “y”: (1,2), (2,4), (3,6), and (4,8). He wants to determine the relationship between the first and the second numbers in the series where x increases by 1 and y increases by 2. 
Using induction, he compares the pairs of numbers and proposes that y = 2x. It is a reasonable hypothesis, but he resorts to more testing and comes up with two more pairs of numbers, (5,10) and (6,12). They seem to confirm his hypothesis, and he rejoices.  
What is not usually realized, however, is that this series of paired numbers can be adequately explained by an infinite number of alternate equations of the form y = 2x + x(x-1)(x-2)(x-3)(x-4)(x-5)(x6)z, where z can be a constant or another function of x. No further testing and collecting of data would be able to distinguish between these alternative equations and the basic equation y = 2x.
 In choosing y = 2x as his hypothesis, the scientist has made the assumption that <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/what-is-divine-simplicity">simplicity</a> is a marker for truth. 
<h2>Does simplicity beg the question?</h2>
James D. Watson, describing his and F.H.C. Crick’s discovery of the double helical structure of deoxyribonucleic acid, or DNA, said it was “an adventure characterized by youthful arrogance and by the belief that the truth, once found, would be simple as well as pretty” (The Double Helix, ix). And despite the absence of any definitive data that would favor the heliocentric over the geocentric model for the solar system, Copernicus believed that his hypothesis that the Earth revolved around the sun was true because it was simpler. These are only two examples that suggest that the simplest theories are most likely to be true. Most scientists believe this. Why? 
Swinburne discusses three possible answers (Simplicity, 44-51). First, some might claim that there are reasons why scientists choose simple theories beyond the greater probable truth of a simple theory. But examples from the history of science suggest this is not true. As Watson believed, simplicity itself is thought to be a marker of truth. 
Second, some might argue that the presumption of simplicity is justified because history has shown that simplicity is a reasonable assumption that has worked. Swinburne points out that justifying simplicity this way itself already relies upon the criterion of simplicity and as such begs the question. He points out there are many ways of extrapolating from past historical data.  
“Usually, simplest theories predict better than more complex theories” is one way, but “Usually theories formulated by Greeks in the bath, by Englishmen who watch apples drop, or Germans who work in patent offices . . . predict better than other theories” is another way. (Swinburne is referring here to Archimedes, Newton, and Einstein.)  
This second explanation of past data explains history equally well but is obviously absurd. The first alternative, the simpler one, has to be preferred. However, since simplicity itself is presumed, the appeal to history cannot be used to justify simplicity. 
The third possibility is that some mathematical or logical theorem justifies belief in simplicity. This, in fact, is only a more sophisticated way of saying that some mathematical formula can be devised to demonstrate that induction can give rise to certain knowledge. But, as the skeptic philosopher <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/print-edition/to-err-is-humean">David Hume</a> wrote, “There can be no demonstrative arguments to prove that those instances of which we have had no experience resemble those of which we have had experience” (Treatise on Human Nature. 1:3:6). 
The future always remains contingent. Ultimately, if the principle of simplicity is true, it is a fundamental, indemonstrable truth that the scientist must accept on faith. It allows him to do science. 
<h2>Truth is beautiful</h2>
The quote from Watson above is a reminder that the conviction that truth is simple is not the only belief held by the scientist. Closely related to this is the belief that the truth is beautiful or, using Watson’s word, “pretty.”  
The mathematical physicist Paul M. Dirac—after recalling that the greatest modern physicists have looked for “beautiful theories,” “beautiful equations,” and “beautiful generalizations” to explain nature—recounts the case of a physicist who refused to accept his mathematical theory because it did not agree exactly with the observed data. Eventually, it turned out that the mathematical solution was true, and the observation was erroneous. Dirac wrote: 
<blockquote>I think that there is a moral to this story—namely, that it is more important to have beauty in one’s equations than to have them fit experiments. . . . It seems that if one is working from the point of view of getting beauty in one’s equations, and if one has really a sound insight, one is on a sure line of progress” (<a href="https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/guest-blog/the-evolution-of-the-physicists-picture-of-nature/">“The Evolution of the Physicist’s Picture of Nature,”</a> Scientific American, vol. 208, 47).</blockquote>
Today, theoretical physicists still use elegance and coherence, elements that reflect the beautiful, as signposts for formulating explanations for nature that may not at first be provable with empirical methods. String theory, with which scientists are attempting to unify all the fundamental forces with gravity, is one example.  
In fact, string theory is just one of many attempts to find a theory-of-everything, a single equation that can be emblazoned on the T-shirt of an M.I.T. student. It is a search driven by the realization that the standard model used by physicists to describe the structure of nature seems too complicated. It is not pretty enough. 
Clearly, it is not easy to justify this intuitive understanding that truth is beautiful in a logical demonstration. However, alongside simplicity, beauty allows the scientists to choose among his different hypotheses. It allows him to accomplish his task. 
Finally, as Pope St. John Paul II points out, the scientist takes for granted that <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/is-it-true-that-there-is-no-truth">truth exists</a> and is the object of his endeavors: 
<blockquote>When scientists, following their intuition, set out in search of the logical and verifiable explanation of a phenomenon, they are confident from the first that they will find an answer, and they do not give up in the face of setbacks. They do not judge their original intuition useless simply because they have not reached their goal; rightly enough they will say that they have not yet found a satisfactory answer (Fides et Ratio 29.). </blockquote>
Hence, for the scientist, the truth is attractive—or, in classical terminology, the truth, because it attracts, is good. 
<h2> Based on an act of faith</h2>
We have seen that the scientific assumption that truth is simple, beautiful, and good cannot be demonstrated and yet must be accepted as true. As Swinburne has pointed out, an inductive argument cannot be used to justify this belief, since it has to be assumed in order to construct any conclusions from historical data. It is a metaphysical first principle, a basic assertion about the nature of reality that, as the ancient and medieval philosophers understood, is fundamental and non-demonstrable. 
Ultimately, it is nothing more than the scientist’s implicit acceptance of classical metaphysics that equates being with truth, unity, beauty, and goodness. Every scientist has to accept that reality is ordered and intelligible. As such, simplicity, beauty, and goodness constitute non-empirical criteria that must be adopted by every scientist in order to accomplish his work.  
These attributes reflect common metaphysical beliefs that must be presupposed in order for anyone—scientist or philosopher or theologian—to be rational. Hence, at the very heart of science’s rationality is an act of the will—an act of faith. 
Science is one example of human reasoning at its best. Most scientists would contend that their work attains truth, pointing at the successes of science—we fly planes, we cure diseases, we communicate on the Internet—to support their argument. These same scientists often fail to realize that these successes necessarily presuppose metaphysical and methodological principles that though non-demonstrable are accepted by them as true and certain. 
Is it surprising that there are truths that cannot be proved? Though most scientists would be suspicious, they shouldn’t be. Kurt Gödel, one of their own, showed in 1930 that there would always be some truths whose truth or falsity cannot be established using the axioms and deductive rules of arithmetic (John Barrow, Impossibility: The Limits of Science and the Science of Limits, 218-231). He used logic to prove that there were things that could not be proved. Some of these include the metaphysical first principles that ground the scientific enterprise. 
Thus, if science is considered the paradigm of rationality as many people suppose, then one must conclude that believing is also rational. The believer can now correct the nonbeliever who has contrasted science and religion: science is based primarily upon reason but, as does every rational enterprise, including religion, science relies upon principles that are grounded in faith.

Science is Based on Faith

One question I often ask reformed Protestants is: when was Abraham <a href="https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/justification">justified</a>? Even though <a href="https://www.ligonier.org/guides/justification#:~:text=Justification%20is%20a%20principal%20benefit,faith%20alone%20in%20Christ%20alone.">their theology maintains</a> that “[j]ustification is a once-for-all, nonrepeatable act of God”, Abraham is said to be justified three distinct times throughout the Bible. 
According to Hebrews 11, “[b]y faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place which he was to receive as an inheritance; and he went out, not knowing where he was to go” (Hebrews 11:8). This refers to Genesis 12, when God tells Abraham to leave his home country and Abraham obeys. Without being justified first, Abraham could not have had faith that allowed him to obey God; thus, he must have been justified then.
But Saint Paul claims Abraham was justified later, in Genesis 15:
<blockquote>“For if Abraham was justified by works, he has something to boast about, but not before God. For what does the scripture say? ‘Abraham believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness’” (Romans 3:2-3).</blockquote>
Lastly, Saint James says Abraham was justified once more in Genesis 22, when he <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/the-real-sacrifice-of-isaac">offered Isaac on the altar</a>:
<blockquote>“Was not Abraham our father justified by works, when he offered his son Isaac upon the altar?” (James 2:21).</blockquote>
So when was Abraham truly justified? Although reformed Protestants may struggle to answer this question, Catholics do not; Abraham was justified all three times. This is because justification is not a one-time event in someone’s life, but <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/justification-process-or-one-time-deal">a continual process</a> wherein one turns away from being a son of the old Adam to being a child of the new Adam, Jesus Christ. 
Abraham is the perfect example of this transformation. Originally he distrusts that God will give him a son in his old age, taking a second wife for himself; but he gradually transforms into a man willing to sacrifice his only son to God, believing “that God was able to raise men even from the dead” (Hebrews 11:19). Abraham’s increase in faith corresponds with an increase in grace and righteousness. This is why we can truly say he was justified multiple times throughout his life.

When Was Abraham Justified?

Human life is REAL from conception!

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Can Mary Save Us?

<div>How and when was Mary recognized as queen of heaven and earth?</div><div>Mary’s queenship is rooted in both Scripture and Tradition, <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/is-there-a-queen-in-the-kingdom-of-heaven">particularly in her being the Mother of God, as Pope Pius XII reaffirmed</a>. In addition, in the Old Covenant, which prefigures the New Covenant, <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/print-edition/is-marys-queenship-biblical">it was the mother of the king of Israel who served as queen mother</a>, not the king’s wife. <a href="https://www.ewtn.com/catholicism/library/key-to-understanding-mary-1067" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Mary fulfills that role as the queen mother of the King of Kings</a>, Jesus. Mary has also been long been understood to be the woman in Revelation 12 crowned with twelve stars, which symbolize the new Israel, for she is the mother of the Church too.
For more on this topic, see Tim Staples&#8217;s book <a href="https://shop.catholic.com/behold-your-mother-a-biblical-and-historical-defense-of-the-marian-doctrines/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Behold Your Mother: A Biblical and Historical Defense of the Marian Doctrines</a>, which is also available in <a href="https://shop.catholic.com/behold-your-mother-digital/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">digital form</a>.
</div>

When Was Mary’s Queenship Recognized?

Atheists sometimes dispute miracles, the Resurrection of Jesus, and even the existence of God <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/extraordinary-claims-require-extraordinary-evidence">on the grounds</a> that these &#8220;extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.&#8221; But do they understand the <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/print-edition/the-extraordinary-evidence-fallacy">implications and assumptions</a> of this catchphrase? Trent Horn shares his thoughts on Catholic Answers Live.

“Extraordinary Claims Require Extraordinary Evidence”

January 21 is the feast of St. Agnes. Agnes is one of several women—most of them virgins—mentioned by name in the Roman Canon, the First Eucharistic Prayer. She died in A.D. 304, either beheaded or stabbed through the neck, in Rome during the short-lived but intense Diocletian persecution. She had been put on trial because she came from a noble Roman family and had various suitors, none of whom she would marry—and that clearly indicated she belonged to that weird, anti-sexual cult called the “Christians.”
The Church has always valued virginity, both in its intentional and physical dimensions. Intentionally, it involves a commitment to abstain from sexual intercourse in order to preserve the virtue of chastity. In the case of a woman, this commitment also finds expression in physical integrity, which is probably why virginity is more frequently associated with women.
Why did—and does—the Church attach such value to virginity, so much that virginal names have been mentioned by the Church in the Mass almost every day for seventeen centuries? And what is it about our times that may impede appreciating what the Church values?
We need to begin with an understanding that virginity and chastity are not so much “no!” as “yes!” Karol Wojtyła (St. John Paul II) recognized this back in 1960, when he wrote Love and Responsibility: people think of chastity as something negative, a refusal. It does entail a refusal, but only because it more importantly encompasses a huge “yes.”
Sex and sexual intercourse, at their best, are profound acts of self-giving, of self-donation. One gives one’s self to another in a deep, personal, intimate, and (as traditionally understood) permanent way.
One gives one’s self. The human self is an embodied self: a soul and a body that, together, constitute one human person. So one impediment to this appreciation may be the modern attempt to divorce body and soul, reducing the “person” to a state of mind with a (maybe the “wrong”) body attached as a tool.
Plain human experience denies this dualism. If I were unexpectedly to slap you in the face, you’d probably ask, “Why did you do that?” If I told you, “Because I love you,” you’d know I was either crazy or making fun of you, because (a) hitting my face means hitting me and (b) body and mind are not so separable as to make that explanation credible.
So sex at its best is a sign of self-donation. And, yes, because we are bodily beings, sensory experiences leave marks that are almost always deep, direct, and lasting. That’s especially true for women, who, unlike men, tend not to compartmentalize sensory experience, thoughts, feelings, and wants. But for both sexes, one’s “first love” leaves a permanent mark: in mind; in feelings; and, particularly in women, in body.
That is why chastity is not just an option, but a moral requirement for everybody outside marriage. I know that many people don’t honor that norm, but the frequency of its violation doesn’t change its nature. We are all, after all, sinners. That universality does not make sin non-sin.
But it’s not just a question of negativity. Because sex is meant to be such a profound act of self-giving, it cannot be profligate: love seeks unity. People seek their “one true love,” their “<a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/blog/you-probably-dont-have-a-soulmate">soulmate</a>.”
If sexual intercourse is an act of “self-giving,” then one wants to give one’s self to one’s “one true love.” That gift is not a “test.” It’s not bestowed with a thirty-day exchange-or-return policy. The dynamic of love says, “I want this, and I want this forever.”
That’s why chastity asks for that gift to be kept for that “one true love.” For most people, that one true love is found in marriage. That is also why the Church speaks of sexual intercourse as reserved to marriage: because that is the one situation in which all the conditions that gift seeks—oneness, permanence, totality, unreservedness, exclusivity, fruitfulness—are objectively present. Anything else is selling that gift out for something less.
But although most people find that “one true love” in marriage, there are those for whom that one true love seeks to go beyond this world, to be united to God and his service. That is why consecrated virginity—the decision to abstain from sexual intercourse—is so valued. Not because the Church is “anti-sex,” but because this woman has decided that the “one true love” to whom she wants to give herself completely is . . . God. But God is spirit (John 4:24); the woman is not. Through consecrated virginity, she seeks to give herself completely to God, which means that the way typically available for human beings to do this—with other human beings through the reality of embodiment—does not come into play in her situation. She foregoes sexual intercourse not because sex is “bad” or “dirty,” but because the meaning of this act with another human being would be dishonest, since she has given herself to another: God.
So if our modern world does not understand virginity or even chastity, it’s not because the Church’s teaching is antiquated or morals have “slipped.” It rather suggests that the modern world first of all—despite all its talk about it—does not understand love. It does not understand love and the total gift to another that true love envisions and needs. It settles for sensory experience and stimulation over a deep, profound, and abiding commitment, selling both our selves and our love short.
Agnes did not want to do that. That is why, despite family and social pressures as well as civil persecution, she chose to die rather than give up her virginity. The same was true in the ancient world of <a href="https://www.ncregister.com/blog/saint-agatha">Agatha</a>, <a href="https://www.ncregister.com/blog/st-lucy-virgin-and-martyr-pray-for-us">Lucy</a>, and <a href="https://www.ncregister.com/blog/st-cecilia-saints-and-art">Cecilia</a>. In our own day, it was true of <a href="https://www.ncregister.com/blog/the-st-maria-goretti-conundrum">Maria Goretti</a>, <a href="https://www.ncregister.com/blog/two-virgin-martyrs-killed-during-world-wars-30-years-apart">Karolina Kózka, Anna Kolesárová</a>, and <a href="https://www.ncregister.com/cna/young-martyr-known-as-the-maria-goretti-of-brazil-beatified">Isabel Cristina Campos</a>.
It is true because love is timeless. All these women paid the ultimate price for their love and their self-donation: they were all martyrs. There can be no greater proof of their love.

Why Catholics Prize Virginity

Have you ever heard the charge about Catholic imperialism? The popular anti-Catholic myth goes something like this: Catholic missionaries were imperialists who enslaved and impoverished native populations!
But, as with all anti-Catholic myths, this one just isn’t true. Here’s the real story.
The Age of Exploration, which took place between the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries, created an unprecedented situation for the Church. With the discovery of vast new lands, it was realized that there were untold millions of people who had never been reached with the message of Jesus Christ.
Jesus himself had said, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you” (Matt. 28:19-20), giving the Church its missionary mandate.
Missionaries therefore began undertaking the hardships and dangers that international travel posed at the time. They spread all over the globe, accompanying the explorers and bringing the message of Christ to people everywhere.
But there was a problem: the various colonial powers—primarily Spain and Portugal, but also France, England, and the Netherlands—that had discovered the new lands were also busy competing with each other to set up colonies. Each nation was seeking its own advantage and did not want to fall behind the others.
This meant that these powers also competed with and in many cases exploited the native populations of these lands. Worse, some of the exploiters cited their own Christian faith as justification for conquering, despoiling, and enslaving the native inhabitants.
What did the missionaries do? The Catholic ones complained to the pope about what the conquistadors and others were doing, and in 1537, Pope Paul III issued a document known as Pastorale Officium, in which he noted that Charles V, holy Roman emperor, had forbidden his subjects from enslaving or robbing native people in mission lands. He then added to this injunction the ultimate Church penalty of excommunication:
<blockquote>Since we, therefore, are vigilant that these Indians, even if outside the bosom of the Church, are not deprived, nor are they to be deprived, of their freedom or the ownership of their goods, for they are men and, therefore, capable of faith and salvation, and, thus, they are not to be destroyed by enslavement but rather invited to life through preaching and example, and since we, moreover, desire to repress the nefarious undertakings of such impious [men] and to insure that the Indians do not become hardened against embracing the faith of Christ . . . we demand that . . . under your watchful attention you prevent with great severity . . . under pain of excommunication . . . each and every one of whatever rank from presuming in any way to reduce the aforementioned Indians to slavery or in any way to despoil them of their goods.</blockquote>
This was one in a series of documents in which the popes of the period took the side of the natives against those who sought to oppress them, citing both the fact that they were men (i.e., they had human rights) and that they could be turned away from the gospel by mistreatment. This was especially important, because the Church has always forbidden forced conversion. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) explains, the gospel must be embraced voluntarily (160).
The Church thus recognized the native peoples as human beings who deserved respect and who possessed precious souls in need of salvation from Jesus. They, like the Europeans, were those for whom Christ had died, and they must be treated as such. The Church thus sought to help the native peoples and protect them from exploitation.
Although this had an effect, it unfortunately did not mean that all exploitation stopped. Just as the pope today cannot snap his fingers and get Catholic politicians to enact Church teaching on subjects like abortion into public policy, the popes of this era had limited influence over secular powers.
The result was a period of both light and shadow, with both exploitation and the advance of the gospel. As in every era, the people of this one must be looked at realistically. None was perfectly good, and none was perfectly evil. Like us, they were complex individuals.
Recent popes have acknowledged this, including Pope Francis, who has stated, “I say this to you with regret: many grave sins were committed against the native peoples of America in the name of God. . . . Like Saint John Paul II, I ask that the Church—I repeat what he said—‘kneel before God and implore forgiveness for the past and present sins of her sons and daughters.’”
He went on to say, “Together with this request for forgiveness and in order to be just, I also would like us to remember the thousands of priests and bishops who strongly opposed the logic of the sword with the power of the cross.”

Catholic Imperialism!

We stand at a turning point, both in the liturgical year and in the gospel narrative. We have now turned our face decidedly toward Easter, which means moving through Lent in all its fullness. In the Gospels, the Transfiguration traditionally marks the final big high point before Jesus “sets his face to Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51)—that is, toward the events of Holy Week.
Jesus has been slowly revealing himself to the people. Just before this, Peter did in fact catch a glimpse of Jesus’ identity and declared him the Son of God, the Christ. Peter, then, along with James and John, is allowed to see this moment of transcendence on the mountain—a moment that, in its brightness, will make the events to come all the more dark. In fact, in Matthew’s version, Jesus insists that the three disciples make no mention of what they have seen until “after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” In a sense, maybe, this was as much descriptive as prescriptive. In the anxiety and confusion following Jesus’ trial and execution, would the memory of this event really signify? One can imagine that it may have seemed a mere dream, because if it were true, if this Jesus really was the glorious figure that they saw on the mountain, how could he be dead at the hands of angry men? How could the Son of the heavenly Father find his end amid shame and agony? It was only afterward, in light of the Lord’s resurrection, that Peter was able to look back, as he does in his second epistle (2 Pet. 1:16-18), and see the event in its own light, as a miraculous witness to Jesus’ identity that would inspire and confirm the apostolic faith.
But how, exactly, did the Transfiguration confirm Peter’s faith? “We did not follow cleverly devised myths,” Peter writes, “when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” It’s strange that he says this because, for many readers today, the Transfiguration seems rather more like a cleverly devised myth than a historical event.
What’s odd about the Transfiguration, in comparison with other miracles from the Gospel, is that we are never exactly sure what it is. Today we don’t often see people walking on water, or multiplying loaves and fish, or healing the blind . . . but at least we have an idea of what it would mean to do such things. There’s no conceptual difficulty imagining them, whether or not we believe they happened. But the Transfiguration, unlike those other events, is not merely the supernatural reversal of the typical order of things, or the unexplained happening of what is under normal circumstances impossible. It is a “special effects” moment in the purest form in that it defies clear description. Even the name is vague: We can use the word “transfigure” to say something moved beyond its normal form or appearance, but it is hard, maybe even impossible, to give an experiential weight to what this might mean.
Maybe that’s why the experience on the mountain was so important as a turning point for Peter and the others. By it they knew that Jesus was not just the fulfillment of all their hopes, but someone who surpassed their hopes and changed them, who offered them not what they had always wanted, but what they had never imagined.
There were many miraculous signs in Jesus’ ministry, and these all showed, to one degree or another, Jesus’ power. Jesus calmed the storm, showing his power over nature; he cast out demons, showing his power over the spirits; he healed the sick, showing his power to give life. The Transfiguration was not “cleverly devised” because, unlike the other miracles, it wasn’t entirely clear what it was supposed to show. It showed glory and light, to be sure . . . but it was hard to know at the time what it meant. Some years later, St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians suggests that we see in Christ’s “glorified body” a promise for our own “lowly body.”
The three disciples were “eyewitnesses to his majesty,” Peter says. But what they saw and heard was another level of witness, for they saw Moses and Elijah—signs of the Law and the Prophets—giving witness to Jesus, and they heard the voice of the Father in heaven giving testimony to his Son. “This is my Son, my Chosen. . . . Listen to him.”
The Father’s instruction is, at least partly, a response to Peter’s initial reaction. “Let us make three booths.” It is a natural thing to say: Here we have this miraculous event beyond description, and so it is only human to seek a way to remember it, to make it permanently accessible.
But the response, which drives Peter and the others to the ground, is really remarkable: No, Peter, there is no need for three tabernacles, because the tabernacle of God is already with men. Here, Peter, is my beloved Son. Listen to him. When God made covenant with Abram, he solemnized his commitment with a burning torch and blood. But here there is no need for signs. In other words, he is not simply another mediator along the same lines as the law and the prophets, he is not simply another witness to a reality beyond himself. He is himself the thing that needs to be witnessed. Pay attention to him. He is already the tabernacle of God. There is no need to build another. He is already a permanent remembrance, because he will always be with you. Look to him. Listen to him. Obey him.
And what does Jesus say? The synoptics offer different accounts here, which is fascinating. For Mark, the first thing the Lord says is an instruction not to tell anyone about what they have seen. For Luke, as we heard today, nothing is said, which suggests an emphasis on what I was saying a moment ago: The important thing to note about this man isn’t just what he says, but who he is.
But in Matthew’s version, Jesus tells the disciples, “Rise, and have no fear.” That’s a message for us as much as it is to Peter, James, and John. It’s one of the simplest instructions, but one of the hardest to do: Be not afraid. This is the first step in following Jesus.
In a way, each of the miracles of Jesus is meant to show why we should not be afraid. We shouldn’t fear the storm, because Jesus is lord of all creation. We needn’t fear sickness, because Jesus is the great physician. We needn’t fear death, because God has shown his power over it. We needn’t fear the cross, because Christ has made it the sign of his triumph. And here, at the Transfiguration, we needn’t fear the blindingly bright radiance of the Son’s glory. Why? Because the more we behold that glory, the more it transfigures us into its likeness. The more it blinds our earthly sight, the more it opens our spiritual sight to its wonder.
All of this is in today’s collect in Divine Worship <a href="#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1">[1]</a>:
<blockquote>O God, who before the Passion of thy Only Begotten Son didst reveal his glory upon the holy mount: grant unto us that we, beholding by faith the light of his countenance, may be strengthened to bear our cross, and be changed into his likeness from glory to glory.</blockquote>
God grants us to behold the light of Christ by faith, and through that vision we are changed into his likeness. But let’s not forget the middle step. The light also strengthens us to bear the cross, as it did Jesus, and as it did the apostles.
And the cross is the only way forward. There’s no way around, just through. We can’t skip from here to Easter. That’s the whole purpose of the liturgical year, and the place where we now stand in it: We cannot understand the glory without the Passion. We cannot forsake our fears until we rise up and follow Jesus the whole way through. Like Peter, our witness to his glory will always be shortsighted until we get the full story.
That’s one way of putting it, but it’s not quite right, because we know, in a basic way, the full story. We know where all this is headed, both in the Gospel story and in its re-presentation in the liturgical year. We know what Peter didn’t yet know—that Jesus does, in the end, rise from the dead in glorious majesty.
But the question isn’t whether we know the informational details of the narrative, but whether we are prepared to “listen to” the Son of God, whether we can actually rise up and fear not. I want to suggest that this is primarily a question not of history, or of Bible knowledge or theology, but of the living experience of faith. In that sense, we’re in the same boat with Peter and the apostles. We have to follow him down the mountain to Jerusalem.
We like to speak in shorthand of faith as a kind of knowledge in the dark, but in fact all faith requires some kind of sight, even if it is something as simple as the trustworthiness of a witness. The sight that holy Tradition gives us—limited as it may be—consists in the necessity that we walk again, year by year, through the life of Jesus. That is what Lent is about, and, looking forward even more, that is what Holy Week is about.
God does not intend for us to blindly follow “cleverly devised myths,” or even to accept clever theological ideas. He wants us to walk in the steps of his Son so that we can hear to his voice. He wants us to be eyewitnesses to his glory so that we can rise up, cast off our fear, and take up our cross.

What Even Is the Transfiguration?

Jimmy Akin gives some advice on how to begin explaining the Trinity to young children, first by analogy and then by observing the personhood of beings in nature.
Transcript:
Host: Carrie in Moose Lake, Minnesota listening on 88.1 FM. Carrie, you are on with Jimmy Akin, what&#8217;s your question?
Caller: Hi, good evening and happy Lent! Thank you. My question is in regard to teaching elementary students about the Holy Trinity in a manner that they can easily understand, or more easily understand, because the God in three persons is kind of, I mean&#8230; It&#8217;s a hard concept.
Jimmy: So are you asking how I would explain it to such children?
Caller: Yes, thank you.
Jimmy: Well obviously, one can use various analogies that have been proposed for the Trinity. You know, there&#8217;s that diagram of the triangle with the word &#8220;God&#8221; at the center and &#8220;Father,&#8221; &#8220;Son,&#8221; and &#8220;Holy Spirit&#8221; at each end, at each vertex, and then they&#8217;re connected with &#8220;Is&#8221; or &#8220;Is not&#8221; to explain how all three persons are God but they&#8217;re not the same person as each other. That diagram can be helpful. It doesn&#8217;t fully explain the Trinity, but it can be a help.
On a simpler level, you know&#8211;this is probably an apocryphal story, but at least according to legend, St. Patrick used a three-lobed shamrock to explain the Trinity to Irish tribes people, and that&#8217;s something that conceivably could help with very small children. The trouble with these analogies, and especially the shamrock analogy, is that there are limits to every natural analogy to the Trinity, because there&#8217;s nothing like the Trinity in nature. We don&#8217;t encounter anything like the Trinity in nature.
And so all of these analogies, if you press them too far, generate problems. In the case of the shamrock example, well shamrocks have three lobes, and thus they have three parts; but the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are not parts of God. Each person is God. And so you end up, if you if you rely too much on the shamrock example, you&#8217;re gonna end up conveying the idea that God has parts, and that&#8217;s not true.
So I would&#8211;if you decide to use an analogy like that, I would be very careful to say to the children that this is an analogy, you know, we can kind of compare these two things, but they&#8217;re not the same. And so don&#8217;t think that God has parts like the shamrock has parts.
In terms of if they&#8217;re old enough to be able to process what I&#8217;m about to say, what I would do is I&#8217;d say, look, the teaching is that God is one being in three persons. And so what&#8217;s a being? Well, as the name suggests, it &#8220;be&#8217;s.&#8221; It&#8217;s anything that &#8220;be&#8217;s;&#8221; anything that exists is a being. And so there are all different kinds of beings; there are rocks and trees and flowers and people and angels and God. All of those exist, all of those are beings.
But you notice not all of them are persons. So for example, the rocks and the trees and the flowers, those aren&#8217;t persons. They&#8217;re zero people. Whereas you and I, as human beings, or an angel like Saint Michael, we are persons. Each one of us is a being that&#8217;s one person. So I&#8217;m one person, you&#8217;re one person, St. Michael is one person. And that shows us something very interesting, because if you have some beings that are zero persons, and some beings that are one person, then there&#8217;s no reason why you can&#8217;t have some beings that are more than one person, and that&#8217;s what God is. God is one being who is three persons.
That&#8217;s different than what we see here in nature around us, because God is infinitely above us, so we would expect God to be different than what we on an everyday basis. It&#8217;s understandable that this would be a difficult concept to grasp, and it&#8217;s subtle and it&#8217;s very different than what we&#8217;re used to encountering, but that&#8217;s because God is infinitely above us, and he&#8217;s infinitely wonderful, and we would expect there to be unexpected things like this about God.
And so that&#8217;s how I&#8217;d explain it if they&#8217;re able to take that in at their age. If you&#8217;d like to read a little more about that check out my book &#8220;A Daily Defense&#8221; where I go into this, and I also talk about the Biblical basis for the Trinity and the different verses of the Bible that help us put that teaching together and prove it.

How to Teach Elementary School Students About the Trinity

In the Gospel of Luke, Christ utters some of the most shocking words in the New Testament: “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple” (14:26). A similar injunction is recorded in John’s Gospel: “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life” (12:22).
It seems, on the face of it, that Jesus is teaching us to actively despise our own life and the people in it. But other passages clearly contradict such a reading. Scripture commands us to love father and mother (Exod. 20:12), wife and children (Eph. 5:25, Mark 10:14), and brothers and sisters (John 13:34-35). Godliness, St. Paul tells Timothy, holds promise not only for the life to come, but also for “the present life” (1 Tim. 4:8). And in one of the most famous verses ever recorded, we hear, “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son” (John 3:16).
So what did Jesus mean by “hating” this life? Biblical scholars have pointed out that this was an exaggeration common to the language and culture of the time. (And it wouldn’t be the only time Jesus exaggerated to make a point: “If your hand or your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off”—Matt. 18:8.) In his Brazos commentary on Luke, David Lyle Jeffrey writes, “The extreme language here is an example of Jewish hyperbole; Jesus is making a rhetorical, not a literal, point designed to show that following him is a radical choice, requiring a clear priority in allegiance.”
In short, “hate” (miseo in Greek) in this context means “<a href="https://biblehub.com/greek/3404.htm">love less than God</a>.” This reading is borne out by the parallel passage in Matthew: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. . . . Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it” (Matt. 10:37, 39). As St. Cyril of Alexandria succinctly put it, “he permits us to love, but not more than we love him.”
So although we can (and must) actively hate “the world” in the sense of the world’s sin (see 1 John 2:15), we cannot (and must not) actively hate “the world” in the sense of the world’s being. The Christian refuses to put this life or anyone in it above God—ultimately, there can be only one first place of our hearts, and again, we will “hate” the runner-up (Luke 16:13)—but he also refuses to despise God’s good creation.
To love this life more than life eternal, or to put our own family or friends above God and his commands, is to fall into an “earthward” trap: we lose sight of heaven’s primacy. But to actively despise life and the people in it is to fall into a “heavenward” trap: we lose sight of earth’s goodness. In his incarnation, his teachings, and his paschal mystery, Jesus underscored both—the absolute primacy of God on the one hand, and the irrevocable value of human life on the other—while refusing the pitfalls on either side.
Even if this interpretation finds broad acceptance, Christians have struggled to strike a balance in practice. How do we think and talk about the world and all that’s in it? Is our default posture toward life below one of antagonism or one of friendship? Or can it somehow be both, simultaneously?
To be sure, in the writings of many modern Christians, who are more prone to this-worldly pragmatism, one often finds a skew toward the love of life. In this case, Christ’s own words begin to sound foreign and disorienting. The things of eternity are so identified with this world—and even ignored altogether—that they feel irrelevant.
But in the writings of many ancient and medieval Christians, more prone to otherworldly ascetism, one often finds the opposite tendency: a skew toward the hatred of life. In this case, the original hyperbole begins to sound merely descriptive. The things of this world elicit so much disdain, disgust, and contempt that the earthly—in a quasi-Gnostic register—feels inherently evil. And just as the modern earthward approach was understandably reacting (but often overreacting) to the excesses of earlier eras, no doubt new heavenward extremes are already percolating in response to the extremes of the present
What might it look like to capture the whole picture of both hating and loving the world laid out in Scripture, while seeing and avoiding the pitfalls of each without the other? We can only continue to aspire toward that fullness. But this much seems certain: although Christ’s exaggeration about “hating” this life should remain impressed on our minds and lips, so should the truth of what he meant to convey—not a denigration of the world, but an elevation of God, such that our earthly loves are always oriented by love of him.
We’re called to love as God loves, and God’s love isn’t stingy. On the contrary, it extends to everybody and everything: “You love all things that exist, and detest none of the things that you have made, for you would not have made anything if you had hated it” (Wis. 11:24).

When Jesus Commands Us to Hate

Christians believe that God created the universe from nothing. But some skeptical critics say that even if there were evidence for the universe having a cause, God could not be it—at least, not the cause of a finite universe that began in the past, like ours.
The late physicist Stephen Hawking, for instance, argued that since the Big Bang is typically claimed to be the beginning of time itself, there could have been no time until it occured. And since all causes occur before their effects, he said, without time there was no way for for any cause, even God, to bring the universe into existence. Because without time there can be no &#8220;before.&#8221;
One problem with this argument is that a cause does not always have to occur before the effect. The eighteenth-century philosopher Immanuel Kant argued, for example, that “the greater part of operating causes in nature are simultaneous with their effects. . . . If the cause had but a moment before it ceased to be, the effect could not have arisen.”
To understand this, imagine a brick smashing a window. In this case, it is clear that the brick is thrown before the window breaks, and the window doesn’t break before the brick hits it. But notice that there is a brief overlap where the cause (the brick flying through the air) is simultaneous with the effect (the window breaking). If the brick disappeared even a microsecond before it touched the window, then the effect would never happen. So there has to be a moment where the cause and effect happen at the same time.
Likewise, God’s causing the universe to begin to exist, and the effect of the universe coming into existence, are simultaneous events. This objection does not negate the principle “out of nothing, nothing comes,” because there still needs to be an explanation for the beginning of time itself. Instead of saying that God existed before the universe existed (since there was no &#8220;before&#8221;), we say only that God existed timelessly without the universe. He then caused the universe to exist at the same moment time began to exist.
But how could God, who is timeless and changeless, engage in an act like “creating the world”?
The Catechism of the Catholic Church makes it clear that God did not have to create the world, and it does not automatically emanate or proceed from him (295). The world is contingent, which means it depends on God in order to exist, and it is possible that it could have not existed if God had chosen not to create it. But God did choose to create the world—not in a temporal way, as if he had to think about whether this was a good idea, but in a way that simply reflects his desire to share his superabundant love with others. As Protestant pastor <a href="https://www.rbap.net/god-creation-ex-nihilo-and-divine-immutability-by-richard-c-barcellos/">Richard Barcellos puts it</a>, “creation does not entail divine mutation, though it does entail divine revelation. No work of God changes God in any sense whatsoever. His external works reveal him.”
God is pure being itself, so he does not change in any way. In creating the world, God is the same. The only thing that changes is how we are related to God.
The philosopher Peter Geach, who perhaps most powerfully made the argument, calls this a “Cambridge change,” named after the Cambridge University philosophers to whom he was responding. Here’s how it works: suppose a son grows up and ends up becoming taller than his father. This direct change is recognized by the father, who says, “My son is now taller than me,” but when the same father says, “I am now shorter than my son,” he is recognizing a change not in himself, but in the difference between him and his son.
The same thing happens when we say God created the universe—nothing changes in God’s immutable nature, but the world around us is “changed” by becoming real in an act of being that is created from nothing.
Another argument against God creating the universe is that it seems as though God has no reason to do this. Some atheists even say the idea of a perfect God creating the world leads to a contradiction. The atheist philosopher of religion, Theodore Drange, for example, says God would have created the universe only because he lacked something, and if he lacked something, then he would not be perfect. Such a being might be a very powerful supernatural creature or alien, but it wouldn’t be God.
But Drange is wrong in presuming that God would have created the universe only out of some imperfection, such as loneliness or boredom. If God is the perfection of virtues, including love and selflessness, then his creation is a logical result of his superabundant love and self-giving. He created the universe not for his good, but for ours. The Baltimore Catechism puts it this way:
<blockquote>Question: Why did God make you?
Answer: God made me to know him, to love him, and to serve him in this world, and to be happy with him forever in heaven.</blockquote>
So God&#8217;s creation of the universe does not contradict his perfection, but in fact flows from it. Because God is perfect love, he gives being and life to his creation.

God Created the Universe? Impossible!

Recently I was on a plane during boarding when a woman slotted into the row in front of me. While she stowed her bag and gathered up her stuff, I got a chance to read the back of her t-shirt. It went something like this:
<blockquote>Why be racist, sexist, bigoted, homophobic, and transphobic when you can just be quiet?</blockquote>
Those words were intended for folks like me, and they were no big surprise. We all know how today’s opponents of Christian/natural/traditional views on sex, marriage, the family, and the nature of the human person reduce those views to <a href="https://www.catholic.com/audio/cot/why-i-dont-care-if-im-homophobic">nothing more than vicious bigotry and phobias</a>. And we know that there’s a battle raging in our culture over these issues, the outcome of which is likely to have a profound effect on religious freedom and the place Christians will have in public life.
I was still taken aback, though, by the brazenness of the shirt’s message—its threat, really. It was essentially a variation on the old quip: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/85211-shut-up-he-explained">“‘Shut up,’ he explained.”</a> I’m aware, at least in theory, that <a href="https://www.generationtechblog.com/p/young-liberals-used-to-be-the-most">elite liberal opinion has become less liberal,</a> less tolerant of dissent and less interested in debate. Still, some part of me wanted to believe that reasonable debate and human connection are possible even between people of radically different viewpoints. But the lady with the t-shirt just wanted me to go sit in a dark hole.
As I sat there on the plane, my memory drew a connection to another time, decades ago, when I experienced a similar disappointment. I was in a courthouse where a group of pro-lifers were being railroaded—er, tried—for failing to “disperse” from a protest at an abortion clinic. During a break in the action, I approached the young male stenographer, fascinated by his arcane profession. I asked him in a friendly way how his stenotype machine worked and if it was hard to learn.
His eyes widened in surprise, his face swelled and turned red, and he twitched a little as he struggled to find words. Finally, with a rush of air like a bursting paper bag, he managed to push a reply over his lips: “Just . . . whatever!” Then he turned his back to me, conversation over.
A leper in the temple would have gotten a warmer reception. I was one of those crazy &#8220;anti-choice&#8221; people. We weren’t supposed to be humanized or dialogued with. We were supposed to be quiet. But I wasn’t being quiet, and this guy couldn’t even.
All these things are floating around my mind today, as we mark another solemn anniversary of the September 11 attacks. Among the many details of tragedy and heroism from that day, one lesser-known piece was the message from the terrorists aboard American Airlines Flight 11, meant for the passengers but <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rS_NFxBRlds&amp;t=283s">accidentally broadcast to air traffic controllers</a>:
<blockquote>Just stay quiet and you’ll be okay . . . If you try to make any moves, you’ll endanger yourself and the airplane. Just stay quiet.</blockquote>
No one knew at that point what was unfolding on that dreadful day. There was no <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Airlines_Flight_93">desperate pushback</a> from that plane. The passengers stayed still and stayed quiet. And just twenty minutes later, Flight 11 struck the north tower of the World Trade Center.
Silence, enforced through the projection of fear: this is a core tactic of control. Whether it’s terrorists intent on death and mayhem or activists who want to suppress religion and re-engineer our culture, they can’t abide pesky resistance from people who should just shut up. (The latter bunch are not, of course, the moral equivalent of murderous terrorists; the point here is to note a shared aim or tactic.)
So, as we reflect on this sad day, let us also recall one of its lessons: do not let yourself be silenced.
First, because speaking the truth is not hate.
Of course we shouldn’t be bigots. And by all means, let’s cultivate a habit of <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/print-edition/the-church-militant-or-the-church-belligerent">gentleness and charity when we speak</a>, imitating the Lord and the saints. We don’t have to be cranked <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xgx4k83zzc">up to eleven</a> all the time—we should learn to pick our spots and to moderate our words as circumstances warrant. But we must also be bold, and not let ourselves be cowed by social pressure—at the point of a knife or the back of a t-shirt—to keep our God-talk and unfashionable moral opinions to ourselves because the elite opinion-makers now in control of the plane have deemed them intolerable.
Second, because the other side lies.
The 9/11 hijackers said the passengers would be okay. The foes of faith and right reason in our culture make similar empty promises. Just sit quiet and let us have our way in this school/courtroom/state capitol/library/workplace/parish council/public square, and we’ll make sure you keep a little safe space for your personal convictions. 
But silence never buys lasting peace; it just empowers the silencers. Instead, only our courageous speech and example, in and out of season, will fulfill our baptismal duty to make disciples and, as <a href="https://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_const_19641121_lumen-gentium_en.html">Lumen Gentium</a> charged the laity, to “work for the sanctification of the world from within, as a leaven” (31).

Don’t Stay Quiet

Should babies be baptized? (Infant Baptism?)

It’s a <a href="https://knowyourmeme.com/editorials/guides/what-does-kamala-is-brat-mean-how-gen-z-memes-turned-kamala-harris-into-a-brat-summer-icon">brat girl summer</a> . . . and, frankly, it’s a little alarming.
The summer of 2022 presented as <a href="https://www.today.com/popculture/popculture/what-is-feral-girl-summer-meaning-rcna28179">feral girl summer</a>, in which we were all called to celebrate our wild side. This led, in 2023, to <a href="https://www.today.com/popculture/rat-girl-summer-rcna100800">rat girl summer</a>, which encouraged females to scurry aimlessly outside their homes while nibbling snacks. Now, in 2024, we are celebrating the summer of the brat, a term to denote late-night partying, volatile female emotions, and a shade of lime green that looks good on exactly no one.
Adult females are, in essence, spending summer after summer in the least appealing ways possible and convincing themselves that it’s a cute way to celebrate their girlhood.
The primary problem with this is that they are no longer in girlhood and should have long ago advanced to womanhood. Charlie XCX, the British pop star whose album launched the brat trend, is thirty-one years old, and <a href="https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-album-reviews/charli-xcx-brat-review-1235031414/">Rolling Stone</a> defines brat as “a hyperpop roller coaster of post-Saturn return, early-thirties anxieties, and It-girl bravado.”
If I chose to be generous about extending youth beyond the time it is strictly necessary, I would say that a person is in adulthood when she reaches the age of a college grad. This is typically around twenty-two to twenty-four and allows for several years of post-high school shenanigans. By the time a person reaches her thirties, she should be well beyond youth and fully embracing mature adulthood.
But the unfortunate truth is that people without the grounding of marriage and children can struggle to grow up. <a href="https://www.morganstanley.com/ideas/womens-impact-on-the-economy">Recent studies</a> forecast that 45 percent of women ages twenty-five to forty-four will be single by the year 2030. This leaves us with a disconcerting number of lime green-clad women scurrying around the streets, eating snacks.
For further proof that our women are stuck in adolescence, we need not look beyond the album that gave us all these brats. Charlie XCX delivered catchy electronic club vibes with an honest analysis of her own insecurities and mean-girl tendencies. She discusses the frenemy who she couldn’t be even if she tried; living as 365 party girl, but often feeling like a wallflower at those parties; how it’s so confusing to be a girl; and how she wishes she could rewind to simpler times. In short, this album is loaded with lyrics that would be appropriate for pubescent teenagers, but it is somehow instead the anthem of our thirty-year-olds—and, in an especially alarming case, a <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/article/2024/jul/23/kamala-harris-charli-xcx-brat">fifty-nine-year-old </a>who is running for president.
In short, women are regressing. Our extremely feminist culture has brought us from the early days of desiring that women have a vote, through the Sexual Revolution, and now to this new stage of encouraging women not to be women at all, but remain in a strange stage of volatile adolescence.
With this regression comes the same mean-girl bullying that we all learned to fear in our school days. This is showcased perfectly in the recent attack on the “<a href="https://www.thetimes.com/magazines/the-sunday-times-magazine/article/meet-the-queen-of-the-trad-wives-and-her-eight-children-plfr50cgk">Queen of the Trad Wives</a>,” also known as Hannah Neeleman, published in the London Times. The article interviews Neeleman about her life as a mother of eight living on a farm that was made successful by her own efforts on social media. However, in spite her obvious success in multiple areas of the life she has chosen, she is slammed as being oppressed by her husband and children, who, the author claims, are constantly correcting, interrupting, and hanging on her. The message is clear: no matter how beautiful, successful, and fulfilled your life seems, you can’t possibly be happy if you have a husband and children suffocating your feminist potential.
This feminist trend of calling any conservative woman oppressed was also analyzed by <a href="https://reason.com/2024/08/01/from-usha-vance-to-ballerina-farm-denying-conservative-womens-individuality/?itm_source=parsely-api&amp;utm_source=substack&amp;utm_medium=email">Elizabeth Nolan Brown</a>, who comments that this same phenomenon is seen in the liberal reaction again J.D. Vance’s wife, Usha. Brown points out how condescending it is to assume that a woman is incapable of wanting something different from the feminist ideal: “This manifests as utter disbelief that women like Hannah Neeleman and Usha Vance could be happy co-pilots in the lives they and their husbands are leading. . . . But it&#8217;s not actually feminist to paint all women with one brushstroke. Women are not and will never be a monolith.”
Granted, not all of us want to live on a farm with eight kids, but in the same vein, not all of us want to throw ourselves into a career. Women should be free to live a variety of lives, but regressing to mean-girl adolescent tendencies is never going to be a successful solution for empowering women, and giving up on adulthood altogether and living the life of a volatile party girl is similarly useless. For women to thrive and succeed, we need all of humanity to thrive, and for humanity to thrive, we need the family unit to thrive. J. Michael Miller, in <a href="https://www.ewtn.com/catholicism/library/revitalizing-society-through-the-family-vision-of-john-paul-ii-10443">his analysis</a> of the work of John Paul II, distilled it beautifully when he said, “Whenever a family fosters love, it performs an inestimable service to society and to the coming of the kingdom. If we are first a communion within the family, then we can later enter into communities in society. A civilization of love has its roots in a family of lovers.”
Trends come and go (thankfully), but truth is a timeless foundation to build your life on. Women cannot operate in a world separate from men and children any more than a child can survive without its mother or men can thrive without women. We all need one another.
When we crumble into a life that is selfish and self-centered, we rapidly become brats. As I have said to my children—and I’m sure many of you have said to yours—“don&#8217;t be a brat.”

Don’t Be a Brat

In his Commentary of the Gospel of Matthew, St. Thomas Aquinas makes the following comment about the Pharisees:
<blockquote>The Pharisees going out took counsel, that is among themselves, namely stupid counsel, how to capture him in his speech. And this was stupid because he was the Word of God, and the Word of God cannot be caught [literally, &#8220;comprehended&#8221;].</blockquote>
Stupid is not a word St. Thomas uses often or lightly. For him, it has a precise meaning. This is not a case of his merely expressing exasperation or disgust at the Pharisees’ malice. He was describing their action using the word he thought most appropriate. We can be sure he does so carefully. He was not one to use language loosely or crudely.
So were the Pharisees stupid? What could he mean? They were certainly learned and clever and even crafty. They even sent Herodians who held the opposite view of theirs about the paying of taxes with coins engraved with a little idol of the “Divine Caesar.” The Pharisees would want Our Lord to say “no” and so invite trouble with the occupying authorities and their allies, the Herodians. The Pharisees would want Our Lord to say “yes” and so offend their own party and other observant Jewish nationalists. They thought they had him in a bind. Either way he answered, they would have him with a malicious “Gotcha!”
Our Lord, however, shows himself to be much more clever than his enemies, as we might expect, and he answers in an unexpected way. In doing so, the Savior reveals the deeper question about the management of human affairs. He calmly asserts the absolute supremacy of God and the relative supremacy of the civil sovereign. Our Lord, after all, was not only clever in debate, but wise. A wise man sees the order of things from the highest vantage point. He understands questions in the light of the deepest principles that underlie the things discussed.
This does not surprise us, because Our Lord is the Incarnate Wisdom of God, who judges all things in the light of his perfect comprehension of them in their source, which is the creative power of God’s goodness. He called himself “the Truth.” The truth cannot be deceived or deceive others. The Pharisees were both deceiving and deceived. Thus, the Savior sternly addresses them as the hypocrites they are.
St. Thomas defines stupidity as the ignorance or the lack of consideration of the highest principles. A person is stupid only if he is ignorant of the most important and powerful truths. This is true of knowledge in general and of knowledge in a particular field. For example, an architect would be a stupid architect if he were ignorant of or ignored the laws of geometry and proportion. A musician would be stupid if he didn’t know the musical scale, and so on.
A man is stupid most of all if he denies the first cause and final end of all things, saying that the universe is random and without purpose; as the psalmist says, “The fool says in his heart there is no God.” The Pharisees were stupid, and their plottings were stupid because they were trying to trap the very Word of God in his words—a ludicrously impossible task!
Stupidity is thus the opposite of wisdom. Now, for Thomas, wisdom is a special kind of Christian knowledge. It is a knowledge that comes about through a union in love with God who is truth. Wisdom is a kind of unfailing instinct in judgment because its source is the Source himself. This implies that stupidity in the sense of a misjudgment of the very highest things has a moral quality. The wise man savors and loves and lives with the truth. The stupid person cannot see the Truth when he stands right before him.
The usual uncharitable and childish use of stupid as a term of abuse usually refers to small matters: social awkwardness, clumsy speech, ignorance of details of sports or fashion or the news. For Thomas, a man could be supremely wise and yet seem stupid according to these worldly standards. Our present society is rife with real stupidity. The most apparent and universal realities, like the objective nature of humans as male and female, or the obligation to tell the truth and never to lie, or the requirements of gratitude, are ignored or denied, and most of all God’s existence or his power is often questioned.
Thomas says this worldly stupidity is the mirror opposite of wisdom. Stupidity comes about when hearts and minds are bound only to earthly things, to physical pleasure and human opinion, a union with the lowest things. Wisdom is poured into hearts and minds by the gift of the Holy Spirit, which comes from the Heart of the Word of God, the very one whom the Pharisees stupidly thought to overcome in the war of words.
In the midst of all this, the Catholic Christian must cling to the supreme source of truth, the Word of God, by living a life of loving union with him. The less immersed in earthly things our minds and hearts are, the wiser we will be.
We are reminded of one great way to overcome our foolishness and become truly wise: by meditating on the mysteries of the life, ministry, passion, and glory of the Savior found in the holy rosary. This is a prayer that will unite us to the Word of God and thus keep us from being stupid.

Stupid Pharisees

<div>I was hoping for an answer to a question from one of your apologists. My question begins with a comment Dr. David Anders host </div><div>We’re happy to address something Dr. David Anders said, but you need to clarify what the host of “<a href="http://www.ewtn.com/radio/weekday/calledtocommunion.asp">Called to Communion”</a> on the <a href="https://www.ewtn.com">EWTN</a> Global Catholic Radio actually asserted.
</div>

Question on What Dr. David Anders Said

Is Purgatory a "second chance"?

<a href="https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/patrick-saint">St. Patrick</a> was born in 385 into a high-ranking Roman Christian family in western Britain; he died in Ireland in 461, though some accounts put his death later. His grandfather was a priest, and his father, a deacon, was a prosperous nobleman and a local Roman official. The family’s native language was Latin.
Patrick writes that as youths he and his companions &#8220;turned away from God, did not keep his commandments, and did not obey our priests, who used to remind us of our salvation&#8221; (Conf. 1). His youth ended abruptly when, at age sixteen, he was kidnapped by Irish pirates and sold into slavery, being assigned to work as a shepherd. This revolutionized his life. His faith and zeal for God were ignited, and he spent much time praying and fasting.
After six years, he escaped, led by private revelations along a safe route back to Britain. In another revelation, he was commissioned to serve as a missionary to <a href="https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/ireland">Ireland</a>. To prepare, he traveled to France and spent two decades as a monk—studying, praying, and practicing penance.
He was ordained to the priesthood and in 432 was sent to Ireland to serve Palladius, who had been consecrated bishop by Pope Celestine. When Palladius died on a trip to Britain, Patrick was chosen as his successor and was consecrated bishop by Germanus, the papal representative overseeing the Irish mission.
Patrick experienced enormous success in converting the Irish, and three assistant bishops from France were sent to help him, among them Sechnall (AKA Secundinus). Within his generation, the Irish had been transformed by God’s grace into a Christian (and Catholic) people. In 441, Patrick went to Rome to seek approval of his ministry in Ireland, and the newly elected Pope Leo the Great confirmed Patrick’s full adherence to the Catholic faith.
This is significant, since today, some assert that Patrick was not even Catholic! The challenge is made mainly by Irish Americans who were brought up Protestant or who have abandoned the Church for Protestantism and wish to co-opt Patrick and represent him as a non-Catholic figure.
This is an impossible task, as Patrick was a Latin-speaking Roman noble, the grandson of a Catholic priest; he was a man who had repeated private revelations, practiced penance (a very Catholic thing), spent two decades as a monk, was ordained a priest, was sent to serve on the papal mission to Ireland, was ordained bishop by a papal representative, and had his fidelity to Catholic teaching specially confirmed by Pope Leo the Great (of whom the fathers of the Council of Chalcedon cried, &#8220;Peter has spoken through Leo!&#8221;). Patrick described himself as a Catholic, and a list of canons he drew up for the Church in Ireland commanded that any dispute not resolved on a local level was to be forwarded to Rome for decision.
The two writings of his that survive, his Confession and the Letter to the Soldiers of Coroticus, both attest to his Catholic faith.
The Letter—which Patrick wrote in a blazing fury after some of his newly baptized converts had been slaughtered during a raid by a British ruler—records his belief in the episcopacy, the ministerial priesthood, confirmation, the value of monks and nuns, purgatory, priestly absolution, and &#8220;doing hard penance&#8221; (the last two, he said, the murdering soldiers needed). His later Confession has a mild tone (not being a response to a massacre) and mentions many of the same Catholic distinctives, as well as fasting, loss of salvation, and Patrick’s private revelations.
Another important source for Patrick’s Catholicity is a Latin hymn written in praise of him by his assistant bishop, Sechnall, who records many of Patrick’s beliefs, among them the sacrifice of the Mass, merits, the fact the Church is built on Peter, and baptismal regeneration.
Any claims from the disgruntled that Patrick was not Catholic are just blarney.

St. Patrick Was Not a Protestant

In the last century, the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls raised the profile of the ancient community of the Essenes. Do these discoveries debunk Christian ideas about Jesus?

The Essene Code

Anyone who regularly discusses the Faith with unbelievers knows there are many kinds of unbelief. One kind that can drive the believer nuts is the “endless objections” kind. Rather than engage with the Faith, the endless objector will rehearse again and again the many “foolish” things that a life of Faith would compel him to accept. After all, “How could I accept a religion that would want me to believe in <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/print-edition/does-symbolism-undermine-biblical-authority">talking snakes</a>/<a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/a-catholic-perspective-on-a-new-attraction">Noah’s Ark</a>/<a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/for-goodness-sake">old-fashioned sexual ethics</a>/<a href="https://www.catholic.com/audio/sp/an-evil-and-good-view-of-the-cross">God’s punishment of his own son</a>/[<a href="https://shop.catholic.com/hard-sayings-a-catholic-approach-to-answering-bible-difficulties-softcover/">fill in the blank</a>]?”
The Christian in this conversation can feel compelled to respond to each and every particular objection. But the overarching problem he senses is getting the objector to stop rolling his eyes long enough to consider the actual content of the Faith.
What to do?
Online, recently, I saw <a href="https://x.com/WWUTTguy/status/1747035780130951357?s=20">an evangelist suggest</a> that we simply tell the person, “You’re making excuses . . . attempting to justify yourself rather than bending the knee to Christ.”
This strikes me as a pretty good diagnosis accompanied by a hazardous prescription.
Even if (as seems likely) the person is using objections as excuses, that doesn&#8217;t mean the objections are “just excuses.” They are also actual questions. Accusing the person of refusing Christ, without giving him a reason to accept Christ, and without patiently addressing objections in a respectful way, seems unlikely to bear fruit.
Perhaps, by answering objections with good humor, the one sharing the Faith can build up trust. And as this trust is built, the Christian can ask questions, including, “Are you sure you are not just treating all of this as foolish to give yourself an excuse not to love God and neighbor as the gospel would require?”
Building relationships, establishing rapport, listening more than talking so the real obstacles can be discovered and removed—<a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/winning-the-person-not-the-argument">these are the hard work</a> of sharing the Faith. We might want to offer our diagnosis of what is wrong with the other person, but, really, how likely is that to help?
What we want is an opening to share our Faith, rooted in what Christ has done for us. We can’t force the other person to accept it. Most don’t. We, ourselves, mostly didn’t, until the day we did.
Another evangelist, replying to the one mentioned above, <a href="https://x.com/ronstauffer/status/1747038642986758172?s=20">said he might ask</a>, “Are you saying you would become a Christian except for that one, single objection?”
This seems to me a better strategy. At least it requires the Christian to listen rather than accuse. Listening in such a way might provide, in time, an opening for a real discussion about <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/but-jesus-never-said-he-was-god">who Christ is</a> and what he means.
At the moment the discussion moves away from the endless objections and on to the person of Jesus, the Christian is evangelizing.

Answer Endless Objections With this One Weird Trick!

A Catholic priest will literally bless your cat if you ask. But what is this ritual about? Why do we do it, and what does it accomplish? Father Hugh Barbour explains.

Why Do Catholics Bless Stuff?

<div>I am a Christian but not Catholic. I have a miracle to report. How do I do that?</div><div>I infer you asked for the intercession of a particular candidate for sainthood regarding your reported miracle. If so, through an internet search you should be able to find the postulator and related association that is advancing the person’s cause for canonization. Perhaps check with the local Catholic diocesan chancery if that effort fails.
If the reported miracle you witnessed involved the intercession of a canonized saint, you might want to report that to your local diocesan newspaper, as someone there may be interested in the story. And you could possibly let the local diocesan bishop know too. But the Church normally investigates closely only miracles that regard the canonization causes of holy Church members.
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How Do I Report a Miracle?

<div>Can you direct me to a Bible study for the book of Psalms?</div><div>The best study of all would be to obtain St. Augustine&#8217;s sermons on all the Psalms (New City Press) and read through them. Then you will have a deep understanding of the nature of the Psalms as prayer and as Christian prayer in the Church—that is, the prayer of Christ the head and of us, his members. This would not be a modern academic study of the Hebrew poetic tradition, but it would provide you with the most profound understanding of the way the Church uses the Psalms in her life of prayer and worship These works of the great St. Augustine also give us a beautiful insight into the mentality of Christ.
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Studying the Psalms

<div>Can a Christian follow Buddhist philosophy?</div><div>Non-Christian religions have truth within them, as Vatican II’s <a href="http://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_decl_19651028_nostra-aetate_en.html">Nostra Aetate</a> affirms (no. 2), as can their related philosophies. However, there are pitfalls in both, as the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith noted in its <a href="http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/cfaith/documents/rc_con_cfaith_doc_19891015_meditazione-cristiana_en.html">1989 document regarding some aspects of Christian meditation</a>.
Consequently, one could possibly profit from some aspect of Buddhist philosophy that is harmonious with Christian philosophy. However, given the pitfalls, and the fact that the average person is not likely to excel at evaluating what might not be harmonious with Christian doctrine and philosophy, we counsel against attempting to follow Buddhist philosophy.
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What’s Wrong with Buddhist Philosophy

<div>If we cannot do an intrinsically evil act to accomplish some good end, how can we ever justify war? Isn’t "just war theory" that very thing?</div><div>In a just war, there is some legitimate self-defense or some legitimate defense of another who needs our help against an aggressor. And this defense is sanctioned by some legitimate authority that has care of the whole community. These are actions that are intrinsically good, not evil. To be sure, such defense can lead to actions that cause some physical evil in order to prevent an injustice, but this is often necessary. Thus, to kill someone who is attacking innocent people is not murder. Even Our Lord resorted to violence to correct the moneychangers in the temple, and I&#8217;m sure the whip he wielded hurt!
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How Can War Ever Be Justified?

There is a convention among some Christians to declare themselves “heretics” pre-emptively. After all, the word heretic comes from the Greek word “to choose.” They imagine a faith untainted by the manipulation of religious authorities, who supposedly demand mindless adherence to arbitrary dogma. They make up their own minds. If these free-thinkers choose to say the Nicene Creed, for example, they really mean it. If not, that’s fine, too.
Traditionalists hold a different line. To them, belief is no mindless assent to a set of objective propositions, nor is it merely a prejudiced rejection of unorthodoxy. Rather, the choice in favor of God and the commitment to be obedient to his revealed commands are an act of grace, reflecting our acceptance of God’s love and our desire to live in communion with him. Evangelizing, therefore, is not only a matter of sound arguments and the anticipation of objections, but an invitation to an encounter with reality.
Heretic, written and directed by Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, explores the complexity of why and how we choose to believe in a way we rarely see in Hollywood movies. The film stars Sophie Thatcher and Chloe East as Sister Barnes and Sister Paxton. These two Mormon missionaries encounter their worst nightmare in Mr. Reed, played by Hugh Grant, who has found yet another superb villain to play in the second half of his career. Significantly, both Thatcher and East are real-life former Mormons, and their nuanced performances convey a refreshing sincerity.
In Heretic, the choice of religion is no joke, and no mere thought experiment.
For example, Barnes and Paxton have seen and are not bothered by the parody musical The Book of Mormon. Likewise, the pair experience indignities in the town where they have been assigned, but they are constant in their encouragement of each other and their commitment to the mission. They dream of their future husbands, and they are honest about their shortcomings. But then they meet Reed, whose goal is not only to flex his intellectual muscles and destroy all their arguments, but to terrorize them personally. In fact, he wants to supplant their god violently.
Mr. Reed, whose name may be an homage to <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/wanna-place-a-bet-on-god">Pascal’s</a> “thinking reed,” at first seems too good to be true for a pair young of women keeping a score card of conversion. He is well informed and inquisitive, and he appears to be on the right track about man’s desire for God. Soon, however, the tables turn, and Reed becomes a missionary to them, explaining his own cynical perspective on the major religions. First, with dastardly charm, he propounds the hackneyed trope of a common origin for many sacred stories. Then he moves on to a sinister theory of religious thievery that he dubs “iteration,” and finally he shifts gears to a Matrix-like metaphysics in which the real world is obscured by religion.
It’s an apologetical mess. And when Reed attempts to conclude his presentation with an act of wonder-working, Sister Barnes suspects a conjuring trick instead of a divine miracle.
Heretic contains several gruesome scenes that many viewers will find objectionable. The real terror, however, lies in the darkness at the heart of Reed’s faith. The age-old question of the martyrs is at the forefront: would you die for what you believe in? The film reminds us that the sinner assumes God’s authority in both small and big ways and makes sacrifices in gratitude. In contrast, the psychopath has no doubt of his own authority and apologizes for nothing. He is the ultimate heretic.
Heretic is a change of pace for the horror genre. It is like a stage play, with long scenes full of rich dialogue about the things that matter most. Moreover, for the first time ever in my movie-watching life, I was both surprised and reassured by a line in the credits: “No generative AI was used in the making of this film.” Film magic is deliberately put to one side in this unusual examination of the question hanging in the air since Jesus stood before Pontius Pilate: what is truth? In this way, unlike a masterful religious horror movie like The Exorcist, Heretic is not a spectacle of good versus evil, but a heady presentation of competing visions of reality.
Nonetheless, Heretic is a modest achievement that will not be remembered alongside the great religious dramas. No big spoilers here, but no one will leave the theater believing that any religious system, including Catholicism, could explain the universe. Rather, it is a suspenseful and intelligent film, but it does not offer the kind of spiritual depth or potential for extended contemplation that a classic like The Exorcist offers.
For anyone looking for a small dose of theological reflection packaged in a good scare, however, buying a ticket to Heretic is a worthwhile choice.

Will Heretic Change Your Mind?

In a classic Bob Newhart skit (<a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/blog/the-button-down-faith-of-bob-newhart">may he rest in peace</a>), a therapist sits down with his new client, promising he can cure her compulsion for five dollars in five minutes. It’s a bargain, and he does it with just two words: stop it!
However well (or <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ow0lr63y4Mw">hilariously</a>) this advice may or may not work to cure compulsions, it’s the gold standard to combat a deeply rooted and destructive phenomenon in the Church and the world: people complaining about their spouses.
I’m not talking about what goes down in counseling with a spiritual director or about what spouses say to each other when working through their flaws together. These are both good-faith efforts to solve a problem. No, the subject here is the sort of thing everyone has a personal example of.
Sorry we’re late; Jane couldn’t be bothered to be ready on time. 
I’d have it so much easier with the kids if John didn’t interfere.
The sighs, the grimaces, the rolling eyes.
Aren’t these just idle comments? you might think. Just <a href="https://www.catholic.com/qa/is-venting-the-same-as-gossip">venting</a>? Everyone knows I love my spouse, so what’s the big deal if I let off some steam?
Here’s the big deal. It has a micro aspect and a macro aspect—what it does to your marriage, and what it does to marriage in general.
The micro involves realities about sin that can be easy to forget in an age of jealously guarded free speech. Yes, we have the right to say whatever we want . . . <a href="http://www.scborromeo.org/ccc/para/2148.htm">sort of</a>. But if I complain about my spouse, it’s highly likely I’m committing one of two sins: <a href="https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/detraction">detraction</a> if what I’m revealing is true, <a href="https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/calumny">calumny</a> if it’s false. Both of these are mortal sins, categorized in the same class as <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew+5%3A21-26&amp;version=RSVCE">murder</a> because <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/the-destructive-sins-of-gossip">they do violence</a> to someone’s good name.
Here are the <a href="http://scborromeo.org/ccc/p3s2c2a8.htm#2477">relevant passages</a> from the Catechism of the Catholic Church:
<blockquote>Respect for the reputation of persons forbids every attitude and word likely to cause them unjust injury. He becomes guilty:
&#8211; of detraction who, without objectively valid reason, discloses another’s faults and failings to persons who did not know them;
&#8211; of calumny who, by remarks contrary to the truth, harms the reputation of others and gives occasion for false judgments concerning them.
Detraction and calumny destroy the reputation and honor of one’s neighbor. Honor is the social witness given to human dignity, and everyone enjoys a natural right to the honor of his name and reputation and to respect. Thus, detraction and calumny offend against the virtues of justice and charity (2247, 2279).</blockquote>
These are universal rules that apply to how we treat any old Joe we pass on the street. Imagine how much more gravely they apply to the one to whom God joined me under solemn vows!
Sure, there’s that phrase “objectively valid reason.” A lot can hinge on that. Maybe there really are—no, really—objective reasons to cavil about the spouse between rounds of poker or during girl’s night. But the bar should be pretty high—considering the gravity of the sins we’re talking about, probably as high as the bar to kill someone <a href="https://www.catholic.com/video/what-does-the-church-teach-about-self-defense">without it being murder</a>.
Even if I can clear that hurdle, think about what happens next. I’ve established a connection, exclusive of my spouse, with people less important in my life than my spouse is meant to be. When these people see us together, they’ll remember that flaw I revealed, and I’ll know they know, but my spouse won’t. That’s conspiring against my spouse, and no matter how much I might desire to vent, it’s not going to do my marriage any good.
Then there are the macro problems. In the fight to preserve and protect marriage, there’s not much leeway to mess up. The modern world, from pop culture to politics to academia, is strongly biased against the institution of marriage as God intended it. We can’t help bathing in this cultural bias from an early age, and witnessing a friend belittling her husband, or a boss grousing about his wife, only reinforces it—personally, by direct experience. Each of those darts sticks deeply in our perception of the sacrament, increasing the risk of poisoning all marriages, including our own. Gripes beget more gripes, and it’s not a stretch to imagine a plague of complaining metastasizing into a <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/eight-things-you-have-to-know-about-the-churchs-teaching-on-divorce">plague of divorces</a> (CCC 2385).
As one of the feminist bogeywomen of yore put it, “<a href="https://www.thoughtco.com/the-personal-is-political-slogan-origin-3528952">The personal is political</a>.” Every individual marriage, with all its glories and pitfalls, is a representative of, an ambassador for, the sacrament of matrimony—a living testament to what this magnificent God-given sign is supposed to work within us.
Bob Newhart’s advice ended at “Stop it,” and that was enough for him, because he promised five minutes. But marriage lasts a lifetime, which means a lot of opportunities for Satan to use even our peccadilloes to drag us to hell. So what should we start doing to keep his claws off our marriages and our souls?
<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+peter+3%3A1-7&amp;version=RSVCE">St. Peter</a> and <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=ephesians+5%3A22-33&amp;version=RSVCE">St. Paul</a> have some excellent, albeit countercultural, advice. Here’s the short version:
<ul>
<li>The man’s wife is a part of him, like his own body, so he should love, care for, and cherish her as his own body. When he builds up his wife, he makes her all the more beautiful, and that beauty rebounds on his family and himself. He shows that he takes seriously his headship over his household: if he has problems (and what gossip-craving ear would even know it if he does?), he manfully deals with them instead of whining about them.</li>
<li>When a woman speaks reverently and respectfully of her husband, two things happen. One: She hardcore repudiates the worst of Eve, whom God cursed to grasp at her husband’s headship. Two: She establishes herself as the kind of woman who reveres and respects her husband. Her girlfriends will notice that and ponder it—a nudge for them, too, to be <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=luke+2%3A19&amp;version=RSVCE">more like the new Eve</a> than the old one.</li>
</ul>
What it comes down to is that spouses are two parts of one whole. Once bride and groom say the vows, they are meant for each other, the two strongest human allies on earth—indeed, more than allies, fused together against a swelling tide of <a href="https://insidethevatican.com/magazine/the-final-battle-marriage-and-family/">diabolical attacks</a>. We should never forget that. Even those in truly bad marriages, to truly bad people, must strive to love their spouses as spouses even if they struggle to care for, cherish, respect, and revere them in the here and now. Many <a href="https://www.catholic.com/qa/is-there-a-patron-saint-of-marriage">bad spouses have been converted</a>, and <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/how-st-helena-handled-a-difficult-marriage">good spouses sanctified</a>, this way.
This is the ideal for marriage, the star on which to fix our gaze. Reaching that heavenly place is a life’s work, and it starts with how we talk . . . <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=james+3%3A6-12&amp;version=RSVCE">or don’t</a>.

The Marriage-Killer

<div>Does Mass remove the temporal punishment due to sin?</div><div>It’s possible that participating in Mass could do so, but not necessarily. To be clear, temporal punishment is only removed for sins regarding which a person has repented and been forgiven. For mortal sins, that means receiving the Sacrament of Reconciliation/Confession.
To have all temporal punishment removed, one needs a plenary indulgence, the conditions for which include Confession, the reception of the Eucharist and detachment from all sin. In this light, simply faithfully participating in Mass could remit some temporal punishment. Ultimately, we entrust the matter to God. If we have any concerns, we can seek a plenary indulgence, given the Church’s God-given power to bind and loose (Matt. 16:18-19).
For more on indulgences and the removal of temporal punishment due to forgiven sin, please see CCC 1471ff. and also <a href="https://www.catholic.com/tract/primer-on-indulgences">“Primer on Indulgences” tract</a>.
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Does Mass Remove Temporal Punishment Due to Sin?

Are debates dumb now?

Here is a question a reader asked me recently:
<blockquote>I have a friend who says the Catholic Church has never actually condemned the idea of final apokatastasis, or the final salvation of all at the end of time, as taught by Origen in the second century. He claims there are only the alleged “anti-Origenist” canons from II Constantinople, in 553, that condemn this teaching, but they have been demonstrated to be interposed and not authentic. Is that true?</blockquote>
This is a classic example of throwing the baby out with the bathwater.
To start with, there are plenty of <a href="https://nam10.safelinks.protection.outlook.com/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.catholic.com%2Fmagazine%2Fonline-edition%2Fare-there-souls-in-hell-right-now&amp;data=05%7C02%7Cdbelsky%40catholic.com%7C24fd83a66f9e4817e2bf08dc550bf1d1%7Cdd9faf74765b495cac09cabd182c95a7%7C0%7C0%7C638478757024545272%7CUnknown%7CTWFpbGZsb3d8eyJWIjoiMC4wLjAwMDAiLCJQIjoiV2luMzIiLCJBTiI6Ik1haWwiLCJXVCI6Mn0%3D%7C0%7C%7C%7C&amp;sdata=v4O8tnuXgsTv12FPgsxvBrXS4Q4c03Uo3joIby1QudE%3D&amp;reserved=0">other magisterial reasons</a> for Catholics to know that hell is eternal. But to answer the question at hand, the claim of “anti-Origenist” interpolation regarding II Constantinople and what it teaches is false, at least in part.
Granted, at least some of these canons, alleged to be from the council, were later interposed—that is, added in after the fact—and included wrongly as part of the canons of II Constantinople. But that does not mean they are not authentic and authoritative. The truth is, at least nine of these canons were licitly promulgated at a validly convened synod at Constantinople in 343, about ten years before the Ecumenical Council of Constantinople II. And very importantly, these canons, too, were confirmed by Pope Vigilius.
As we will see below, the Church cites nine of the famous anti-Origenist canons as authoritative. (There are fifteen others that are generally not considered authoritative.) The error people commonly make is to go to an excellent work like Decrees of the Ecumenical Councils, edited by Norman Tanner, S.J., and there discover that these canons were not original to II Constantinople. That is not the error, because it is true that these canons were not original to Constantinople. But some conclude from this that the canons themselves are bogus, or at least not magisterial.
But a work like Tanner’s is not where you want to go for this kind of information. He is only dealing with what documents constitute the actual documents of ecumenical councils. And it is correct to say, as the above inquirer’s friend does, that these anti-Origenist canons were not original to the council.
But if you want the whole story, you have to go to Heinrich Denzinger’s Enchiridion Symbolorum, which I recommend for your normal go-to source even with regard to ecumenical councils. The Church cites Denzinger as its general go-to in its magisterial documents. (At least when considering sections of the councils, you can use Denzinger. Because the councils are not exhaustively cited there, you’ll have to supplement with Tanner or Flannery.)
At any rate, here are four points to consider:
First, In paragraph 1035 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, footnote 617, we find anathemas #7 and #9, from the Synod of Constantinople, as authoritative (DS 409, 411), which explicitly condemn Origenism with regard to final apokatastasis:
<blockquote>If anyone says or holds that the Lord Christ in the future age will be crucified in behalf of the demons, just as [he was] for the sake of men, let him be anathema.
If anyone says or holds that the punishment of the demons and of impious men is temporary and that it will have an end at some time, that is to say, there will be a complete restoration of the demons or of impious men, let him be anathema.</blockquote>
Second, according to Denzinger, we have evidence from Cassidorus’s Institutions of Divine and Secular Learning indicating that Pope Vigilius did indeed confirm the Synod of Constantinople (Denzinger, Enchiridion Symbolorum, p. 114). And so
(a) the condemnation of Origen’s position of final apokatastasis has papal, magisterial authority, and
(b) in its “Index of Citations,” the Catechism, under the heading “Particular Councils and Synods,” cites and acknowledges “the Synod of Constantinople” (543) to be magisterial.
As far as the magisterial authority of this teaching is concerned, it is not because of this declaration from the Synod of Constantinople alone. Rather, this teaching represents the universal and ordinary teaching of the Church and is infallible. That is, the teaching of the final salvation of all angels, including the demons, and all men, including the impious, is infallibly condemned.

Yes, Hell Is Still Eternal

Recently, a woman from Georgia, Adriana Smith, made headlines for delivering her baby via C-section . . . after being declared brain-dead for three months. Although brain death has become a normalized criterion for death in the Western world, I am not too convinced that we should blindly accept this norm without further scrutiny.
To do so, it’s necessary to dive into the history and origin of brain death classification. Before the development of ventilators, anyone who experienced permanent and irreversible cessation of integrated brain function—also known as brain death—would not be able to respirate on his own and would experience loss of cardiovascular and respiratory function. In other words, he would die. With the advancement of medical technology throughout the twentieth century, however, continuing to have cardiovascular and respiratory function while brain-dead became possible.
As a result, in the late 1960s, the Harvard medical board began discussing the possibility of classifying brain death as death of the total human person. This was controversial, considering that the cessation of a singular organ’s function was never the standard for determining death. Instead, both the heartbeat and respiratory function were the standard processes considered in deciding if someone had died or not. Thus, adding a new standard for determining death would not be simple.
The committee’s reasons in considering this new criterion, however, were not fully innocent. Instead, many were motivated by utilitarian thinking. If more people were classified as dead by this standard, that meant that more viable organs would be available for donation.
According to chairman Henry Beecher, it would not be beneficial to “continue to condone the discard of . . . tissues and organs . . . when they could be used to restore the otherwise hopelessly ill but still salvageable individual” (“Ethical Problems Created by the Hopelessly Unconscious Patient,” New England Journal of Medicine, 278:1425-30). Furthermore, he suggested that at “whatever level we choose to call death, it is an arbitrary decision. Death of the heart? . . . Death of the brain? . . . It is best to choose a level where, although the brain is dead, usefulness of other organs is still present” (“The New Definition of Death. Some Opposing Views,” Internationale Zeitschrift für klinische Pharmakologie, Therapie, und Toxikologie, 5:120–24). Thus, his main concern was on how to get the most organs viable for donation, not on developing a sound anthropology surrounding the death of the human person.
From a Catholic understanding, the moment of death is something that science or medicine cannot directly identify. This is because we understand death to be the moment the soul separates from the body, which cannot be observed or measured using physical methods. Brain death, then, is only a method in determining that someone has already died, not the exact moment or method of his death.
Back in 2000, Pope St. John Paul II spoke to the International Congress of the Transplantation Society on this topic, <a href="https://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/speeches/2000/jul-sep/documents/hf_jp-ii_spe_20000829_transplants.html">suggesting</a> that judging someone as dead using the brain death criterion “does not seem to conflict with the essential elements of a sound anthropology.” In other words, John Paul cautiously condones this criterion, with the caveat that health care workers must have “moral certainty” when arriving at a judgment for an individual’s state of being alive or dead.
This caution is understandable considering cases like Adriana Smith’s. How could a dead woman gestate her baby for months? Other cases, such as that of thirteen-year-old Jahi McMath, also reveal that brain-dead patients <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/34840151/">can undergo</a> changes associated with puberty. Do such circumstances provide the type of moral certainty John Paul commissions?
I do not believe so. This is especially true after considering <a href="https://annalsofintensivecare.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/2110-5820-2-4?utm_source=chatgpt.com">surveys</a> involving American neurologists that suggest “concern (or confusion) about whether [brain death] marks the point of irreversible loss of brain functions.” Since neurologists are the main doctors diagnosing brain death, it is undoubtedly concerning that there is confusion regarding the criteria for diagnosis.
Additionally, this study suggests that most neurologists consider patients dead who not only lost integrative brain activity, but also lost the ability to be consciously self-aware. This means that patients in a permanent vegetative state, who can breathe on their own and have normal sleep-wake cycles, would be considered “dead” by most neurologists. This would conflict with a sound Christian anthropology, since our anthropology suggests that personhood comes from the unique soul-body made in God’s image—not someone’s consciousness or cognitive abilities.
Clearly, there is no clarity on this issue among the neuroscience community, and the “moral certainty” required to make such a diagnosis seems . . . well, hard to derive.
This does not mean that people who experience brain death are certainly alive. It just means that they could be, and we should not blindly accept that all brain-dead patients are dead without having carefully assessed each individual’s case. Only then can we achieve moral certainty and know the best way to proceed medically with the individual, with his God-given dignity in mind.

Confusion About Brain Death

In the Introduction to the Rite of Marriage, the Church teaches that “Catholics who have not yet received the Sacrament of Confirmation are to receive it to complete their Christian initiation before they are admitted to marriage” (no. 18). What’s that all about?
Is it another “hoop” the Church makes people jump through? Is it the Church’s version of making sure our “spiritual shots” are up to date, updating the vaccination record while she has a chance? Isn’t it good enough we have young people who want a “church wedding” without putting them through the “grave inconvenience” (the exception in no. 18 allowing it to be waived) of having to be confirmed, too?
No, no, and no.
Let’s back up a bit. Last year, Michaël Gasperoni and Vincent Gourdon published Le sacrement oublié, a collection of essays about confirmation since Trent. What’s important is its title: “The Forgotten Sacrament.”
How many people ever remember their confirmation? A one-time event in youth, confirmation has practically become not a sacrament of initiation, but rather a sacrament of exodus. That many young people abandon the Church between confirmation and matrimony is no state secret. Given that many are also choosing either not to marry or to substitute many ersatz arrangements for marriage, some well-intentioned people don’t want to “alienate” those stilling seeking to marry in the Church by bringing up the “forgotten sacrament.”
Now let’s discuss confirmation’s place in the Christian life.
First of all, the sacraments are not seven unrelated ganglia, just hanging out there. There’s an order and ranking among them. They all ultimately have their sense in relation to the Eucharist, “the source and summit of the Christian life” (Lumen Gentium 11).
Baptism, confirmation, and the Eucharist are the three “sacraments of initiation.” They incorporate ever more deeply a person into the Church, culminating in the Eucharist. A full-fledged Catholic has received those three sacraments.
What does Confirmation “add”? Being “sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit” enables us to witness to Christ. Baptism incorporates us into the mystical body of Christ. But the Christian is not for himself: he is meant to be “salt of the earth and light of the world.” He is meant to evangelize. He is meant to be a living icon of Christ.
And since one can hardly pray “Jesus Christ is Lord” without the aid of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. 12:3), how much more do we need the Spirit’s help to witness to that prayer? When you were confirmed, your soul was indelibly marked by the character of this sacrament: you are uniquely configured to Christ as his witness, his herald, his prophet.
Now, when it comes to witnessing to Jesus publicly, the two primary ways Catholics live this out is through two sacraments: holy orders or matrimony. Nobody would question that, prior to ordination, a candidate for the priesthood must be confirmed. He needs all the divine power he can get to be a priest.
But the same is true of marriage. Remember that when the Church speaks of the sacrament of matrimony, it is not thinking of a social celebration or a “magic moment” in which two people “get married.”
Yes, marriage is social, and it’s a celebration. It’s the Church coming together around its son and its daughter to witness and affirm that the love they vow is part of something much bigger than them, much bigger than this gathering. Its roots go all the way to the Trinity, to a God who defines himself as “Love.” It is that God who may give them children, expanding their love, and will be the one waiting for both of them in eternity.
Nor is the sacrament a “magic moment,” something that once happened in St. X Church on such and such a date and is now over. Rather, marriage began in St. X Church on such and such a date and will continue until one of these people is carried feet first back into St. X Church. There’s truth in the adage: marriage—as a sacrament—is not a moment, but a lifetime.
If we are convinced, then, that the Church does not see a wedding as a momentary “fill-up” at the spiritual gas station, but as the beginning of a new aspect of the Catholic’s vocation, then we can see that confirmation is critical to that mission.
Marriage and family life are very much ground zero in terms of bearing witness to Catholic teaching. And the first place that arises is within the domestic church that is the family.
The partners themselves may experience spiritual temptations. They’ll need every resource to cope. If it’s a marriage <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/catholic-protestant-wedding-yes-or-no">involving a non-Catholic partner</a>, even more so.
If God blesses them with children (which we pray for in the nuptial blessing), they will “be the first teachers of their children. May they be the best of teachers,” as the Baptismal Rite puts it.
When those children venture out the door, they will be swimming in a culture rife with values alien and hostile to what Catholicism stands for. Those values will sing a siren song, assuring kids they can ignore their parents, because “your secret’s safe with us.” Especially when puberty sets in, those young people will be like little Adams and Eves, rebelling to prove they “can be like gods (or at least parents) knowing good and evil.”
Do you doubt that you need the Holy Spirit to do this job right?
That’s why the Church calls for somebody preparing for marriage who missed confirmation to be confirmed.
(It’s also why the Church empowers priests to administer Confirmation to anyone unconfirmed “in danger of death”—see CCC 1314).
Most marriage preparation takes a year, if not for the utilitarian consideration of reception hall rentals. September is the time in many parishes that RCIA classes start for those who will enter the Church at next year’s Easter Vigil. If you’re thinking of getting married—even if you haven’t started the pre-Cana process—why not give the priest a call now to ask about how your parish or diocese prepares people for adult confirmation?
(For a good presentation on confirmation, on which this essay relies, see Fr. Romanus Cessario, O.P., The Seven Sacraments of the Catholic Church [Grand Rapids: Baker, 2023], pp. 180-93.)

No Marriage Without Confirmation?

<div>Should artificial wombs be supported by Catholics?</div><div>Artificial wombs seek to contravene the God-inscribed, unbreakable bond between the love-giving and life-giving aspects of the marital act (CCC 2369-70). They are therefore morally prohibited (see CCC 2273; 2376-79).
</div>

Are Artificial Wombs OK?

Cy Kellett and Amy Hamilton discuss the complex relationship between contraception and the sexual revolution. They explore how the contraceptive pill has influenced societal attitudes towards sex and responsibility, arguing that detaching sex from its procreative purpose can be dehumanizing for both partners.
Transcript:
Cy: I think, frankly, one of the reasons that so many people are so willing to go along with all of the sexual revolution is they just don&#8217;t want anyone to take the pill away from them. So what&#8217;s wrong with that? What&#8217;s wrong with the pill?
Amy: People have written and spoken far more eloquently on this than I, but I want you to think about what it&#8217;s done to women, okay? I want you to think about what it&#8217;s done to women. The women are expected to take a hormonal contraceptive pill that changes their libido, that makes them gain weight, makes them irritable, makes them at risk of blood clots, affects their future fertility, so that they can be sexually available at all times whenever a male wants them. I mean, people have put it in really crass ways, but that&#8217;s what the woman is supposed to be—open season. And the way you do that is by completely disrupting her body, her normal, God-given, healthy body. Right, right.
Cy: There&#8217;s nothing wrong with her.
Amy: So there&#8217;s that first seed of I&#8217;m gonna harm the body in order to maximize my sexual pleasure or someone else&#8217;s sexual pleasure.
Cy: Exactly.
Amy: Absolutely. Right. So for&#8230; And this is mostly from a male perspective. Right. And then, and then, so, and then how does it harm the male? Because then his sexual energy does not have to be subdued. Right. It doesn&#8217;t have to be subjugated to anything other than his desire. So his partner&#8217;s supposed to be open season, open season on the woman. And that&#8217;s why you get these horrific results of, you know, quote unquote, unwanted pregnancies. And then you better get that, you know, you better get that abortion, you know, I will kill you, I will kill the baby. I will spike your drink with abortion pills. I will pressure you. I will. Because I have a right to your body.
That sense of entitlement becomes zero responsibility towards you. Right. And if it&#8217;s zero responsibility towards you, it&#8217;s certainly zero responsibility towards any child that you might conceive. And so that the hardening of the heart in males and females just becoming, honestly, sexual chattel, you know, we have to be open. I think it&#8217;s just tragic.
Cy: Yeah, it is. Like, I feel like if baseball players were taking chemicals as strong as women are taking in order to improve their performance, they would be banned from baseball. But every woman is expected to take these.
Well, again, I think too it&#8217;s that short-sighted, right? We don&#8217;t want to have to&#8230; We don&#8217;t want to have to. And I get, look, I hear you. I think that we always have to have compassion and always ask God, like, what your love, your truth is not burdensome. It&#8217;s not burdensome. So what&#8217;s your answer?
So even individuals like Nancy Pelosi, so rabidly for abortion, and that just was such a hallmark of her entire life advocacy. And I remember, you know, hearing her say, you know, I had five, you know, was it four or five children?
Amy:  I think she has five children.
Cy: Five children under the age of five. So she had them very close together, you know, and so I so like, Lord, was she just so overwhelmed that that just seared her into her&#8230; So how do we support women? Right. But if you actually, you know, teach, you know, NFP, natural family planning, it&#8217;s actually healthier and leads to better relationships. It leads to better relationships because husband and wife, hopefully in the marital union, like you are working with the rhythms of your bodies.
Cy: Well, what if I&#8217;m&#8230; I mean, I feel like if a young man were to say to a young woman, I don&#8217;t want you to take those because I don&#8217;t want you to do that to your body. That&#8217;s too much. I feel like that&#8217;s a gracious thing to say. So that if he can participate in the, you know, you have these married couples participate in the kind of regulating of their own sex life according to her cycle. In a sense, he&#8217;s taking a burden on himself of attentiveness to her. That he, that the man who just wants her to be chemically kind of sterilized for the month, he doesn&#8217;t have to, he doesn&#8217;t take on that attentiveness. He doesn&#8217;t do that.
Amy: He doesn&#8217;t, and you know, he also doesn&#8217;t get the same wife because she&#8217;s actually altered by&#8230;
Cy: Oh, that&#8217;s a very good point.
Amy: No, I&#8217;m very serious.
Cy: I hadn&#8217;t thought about that.
Amy: She is taking on a burden and she&#8217;s actually altered in her own emotions, mood, and health. And what they don&#8217;t know is how that&#8217;s sabotaging future desires for children. Right. Future fertility. Why is every so suddenly we contracept and we prohibit, you know, we prevent pregnancy through the most fertile years? And then in the 30s, you know, when it&#8217;s harder to get pregnant, we start trying to get pregnant. And then all these years of hormonal contraceptives in the body are supposed to have had no effect. We want to shut it down completely for years, and then at a flip of a switch, we&#8217;re supposed to turn it back on. And then there&#8217;s the predatory fertility industry ready and waiting to say, oh, you&#8217;ve, you know, you&#8217;ve aged your cervix through these hormonal contraceptives. So now we&#8217;re here and we&#8217;re going to pump you full of more hormones to give you IVF and you&#8217;re going to lose. It&#8217;s a destructive cycle when it would be just so much better to embrace. Oh, sex has responsibility and we&#8217;re going to mutually steward this gift.
And the other thing that Katherine Pakaluk&#8217;s research has pointed out is that as the fertility&#8230; We talk about the birth dearth, you know, and then of course, she&#8217;s got her wonderful book, you know, *Hannah&#8217;s Children*, about the women who are defying the birth dearth, you know, but in general, across the board, women have one fewer child than they would want if they say their ideal fertility. So there&#8217;s all these hidden costs, the things that we don&#8217;t see.
Cy: Yeah, we don&#8217;t talk about them.
We have to take a quick break, but we&#8217;re going to come back. I am going to get to the callers. I promise. There&#8217;s folks on the line I will get to. If you just don&#8217;t go away this time, I&#8217;ll get back to you. 60 years now.

How Birth Control Wrecked Society

Why Evangelize Non-Catholic Christians?

My Take on Dan McClellan @maklelan

<div>Were the apostles baptized?</div><div>Yes, as Jesus’ first disciples (along with his Blessed Mother), the apostles were undoubtedly baptized. Just before his Ascension, Jesus makes clear to his apostles that baptism is a fundamental part of becoming his disciple (Matt. 28:18-20). And Jesus’ baptism is distinguished from John’s, which was a baptism of penance yet which could not forgive sins or provide grace. Luke mentions John’s baptism in Acts 1:5, 1:22, 10:37, 11:16, 13:24, 18:25, and 19:4.
When were the apostles baptized? Scripture is not clear, but it was either sometime during the time between Christ’s Resurrection and Ascension or on the day of Pentecost. Because Luke doesn’t speak of the apostles’ own baptism in Acts 2, I would argue for the earlier time period.
</div>

Were the Apostles Baptized?

<div>What qualifies as a war that is moral to wage?</div><div>The Catechism of the Catholic Church lays out the conditions for just war in paragraph 2309:
<blockquote>
<ul>
<li>the damage inflicted by the aggressor on the nation or community of nations must be lasting, grave, and certain;</li>
<li>all other means of putting an end to it must have been shown to be impractical or ineffective;</li>
<li>there must be serious prospects of success;</li>
<li>the use of arms must not produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated. The power of modern means of destruction weighs very heavily in evaluating this condition.</li>
</ul>
</blockquote>
The Catechism goes on to conclude in that same paragraph:
<blockquote>These are the traditional elements enumerated in what is called the &#8220;just war&#8221; doctrine. The evaluation of these conditions for moral legitimacy belongs to the prudential judgment of those who have responsibility for the common good.</blockquote>
</div>

What Is a ‘Just War’?

<div>Do Muslims really believe that Mary was assumed into heaven?</div><div>The religion of Islam holds Mary in great esteem. Muslims believe her to be a virgin mother, the most righteous woman to ever live (though not sinless), and a few traditions even view her as a prophet. While some Islamic thinkers have accepted the <a href="https://www.catholic.com/tract/immaculate-conception-and-assumption">Assumption of Mary</a>, it is a very small minority, and it not generally accepted. The Assumption of Mary is not part of the Koran or any ancient Islamic writing.
</div>

Does Islam Accept Mary’s Assumption?

Are Catholics weighed down by rituals?

What is Papal Infallibility?

Protestant often give Catholics a hard time for having &#8220;added&#8221; six books to our bible, but is this what actually happened? Apologist Trent Horn explains what the deuterocanonical books are and gives solid reasons why they are part of the Bible.

Why Are Protestant Bibles Smaller?

Hebrews 10:12-14 and the Eucharist

Last week, we heard one kind of “test” for Jesus from the Pharisees—the kind of test that <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/render-unto">cannot be rightly answered</a> on its own terms. Today we hear a different kind of “test” from a scholar of the law. We can discern the difference in tone immediately from the frank way in which the Lord responds. This is a question from an honest student seeking the truth from a master—the kind of question known well in the rabbinical tradition as well as in the later tradition of Catholic scholasticism that emerged in the medieval universities. So we might note right at the start that Jesus welcomes this opportunity for teaching and conversation; this is the kind of question that opens up the truth, not the kind of question that seeks to manipulate it for personal or political advantage.
The response, what has sometimes been called the “summary of the law,” is not, as some modern Christians might imagine, some great innovation or departure from the Old Testament. Our Lord’s response comes straight from Scripture; and his way of summarizing Scripture further draws from certain teachings of the rabbis on the law. If the Decalogue—the Ten Commandments—represents the basic summary of divine and natural law, this summary is a further crystallization of the “two tablets” of the Decalogue. After all, the first three commandments primarily concern the vertical dimension, or our relationship with God. The final seven concern our relationship with other people and more broadly with the created order. That’s love of God and love of neighbor.
Despite the recurring modern characterizations of the Old Testament as harsh and impersonal, its reality is much richer. Jesus did not do away with the Law and replace it with love. He revealed more deeply that the heart of the law was love all along.
The idea that law and love are so closely intertwined will seem a “hard saying” for many modern Christians, especially Americans. We do not like law, except maybe when it happens to allow us to get what we want. I recently re-watched the classic Disney film Aladdin, partly because my daughter was reading a version of the older tale from the 1001 Nights. I’m hardly the first to observe this, but what I always thought was a fun story with catchy tunes seemed to me now a sad window into the American obsession with individual autonomy. Who is the villain in that story? Not just an evil magician, but the law. The moral of the story, in the end, seems to be that the only way to happiness is to do whatever you want and to defy any mean old “rules” that stand in the way. Although Aladdin may be more roguishly handsome and charming than the evil vizier, I wonder if he is really very different in character. When “love” means anarchy and lies, putting a whole country at risk for the sake of one person’s romantic desire, it is hard to see how it is different from pure ambition for power.
For that is what most people today mean by love, is it not? Sure, it means a feeling of some sort, an attraction. But ultimately it is about power: the power to get what you want, when you want it, how you want it, no matter what institutions, what public goods, what natural biological principles stand in the way. We should probably reduce the phrase “love is love” to the phrase “love is power,” which can further be reduced to “power is will,” which can only ever come down to the nihilistic idea that truth and beauty and goodness are what they are because those with the power say so.
Love is the great commandment. It is the supreme law. If love were, according to the biblical imagination, merely some passing feeling, it would be absurd to command it. But love here is, before anything else, an act of the will—a rational decision to value the good of another over and above, or at the very least alongside, one’s own good.
It is only following this basic commitment that it makes any sense to speak of heart and soul. The heart is, in the ancient world, the seat of emotion. So love here isn’t meant to exclude feeling. The most perfect and complete love brings with it the whole of the human person. Feeling cannot be commanded, but it can be formed and molded both by will and by practice.
It’s worth inserting here a little reminder about the Decalogue itself—a reminder often picked up by the rabbis and commentators of the tradition. The law is about action—you shall not steal; you shall not commit adultery. But it is also about the desires that give rise to action—you shall not covet your neighbor’s goods; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife. The complete moral life is not simply one where we do the right thing; it is also one where we want to do the right thing, where we do not even desire something evil. This principle further points to the Catholic understanding of true freedom. The modern world thinks of freedom merely as a choice between opposites—to do one thing or another. But Christians, following the law, have always understood that the highest freedom is the unconstrained power to do the good—that is, I am most free when I do what is right without even bothering with thoughts about evil. Frankly, I think anyone who has ever struggled with addiction understands this intuitively. When we speak about the saints in heaven being unable to sin, that is what we mean; it is not the removal of power, but the perfection of power.
The entirety of the law then is motivated not by some arbitrary will to power, but by God’s intention to draw us into his infinite and eternal love. Law that stems from arbitrary authority—that says merely do this “because I say so”—is indeed often oppressive insofar as it is irrational. But the law of the gospel is centered on responding in love to the God who loved us first. So even when we do not fully understand the “why” of a rule, we do it not out of some servile sense of obedience, but out of love. I know that my Lord loves me. He gave his life for me. His law is, like everything else about him, fully devoted to my good.
Having said this, we should continue with the logic of our Lord’s words. Just as there is no competition between law and love, there is no competition between the love of God and the love of neighbor. There is a real priority. Love of neighbor—what we might summarize under the heading of Catholic social teaching, matters of justice, and so on—is incoherent apart from the love of God. This is why progressive Christianity, by placing the second commandment over and above the first, only becomes a more strident and self-righteous version of secular progressivism. But the alternative conservatism that it often provokes is not much better; we dare not read today’s passage from Exodus about the stranger and the widow, borrowing and lending, and act as if biblical religion can be reduced to some combination of orthodoxy and individual responsibility.
The law of love is personal, because God is personal, and he made us as persons. It is neither primarily feeling nor abstract intellectual assent; it is encounter. No wonder that both the law and the prophets—both their intellectual and their moral demands—come together in their concern for worship. The love of God and of neighbor—the “law of the gospel”—likewise flows from and with the sacrament of charity, the most holy Eucharist, where we most directly encounter Jesus in this “vale of tears.” How can we know ourselves, and one another, until we know him? How can we know how to love him if we do not spend time with him in the place where he has promised to be?
Let us go then to Calvary, to the altar, to the sacred heart that beats with love for us. There we can know what it means to be loved. There we can take upon ourselves the “sweet yoke” of Christ’s law, which is nothing more and nothing less than the charity of the triune God.

Not Progressive, Not Conservative

How the Homebound Can Evangelize

Where Catholics Go Wrong on Justification

Miracles in Other Religions?

A caller asks Tim Staples why he believes in the bible when the writers make claims that science has disproved. The caller uses the global flood as an example, and Tim responds citing biblical references, church history, and church councils.
Transcript:
So, I wanted to ask, why do you believe the Bible, when the Bible makes accessible claims, disproven by modern science?
And there&#8217;s not&#8230; Yeah, the only problem is Gabe, there&#8217;s no claims made by the Bible that are disproven by modern science.
The global flood?
Okay, well Gabe, I don&#8217;t believe there was a global flood.
So why does the Bible trust it does? The Bible doesn&#8217;t say it does. See, Gabe, understand that when the ancient people&#8230; Now, by the way, I should say, Gabe, that as Catholics, we are permitted because there&#8217;s never been an infallible pronouncement from the church that declared there was a worldwide
flood in a strict literal sense. The church has never taught that. You can go through all 21 ecumenical councils, teachings of&#8230; you know, definitive teachings of popes, and it simply is not there. The fact is, the church permits us to believe that there was no universal flood. Understand that, Gabe, when the inspired scriptures were written,
they are&#8230; You know, a lot of people have a wrong idea of what that means.
Inspired scripture does not mean that God dictated everything to the inspired authors so that it is God himself that is using perfect grammar, perfect language, perfect even science. No, we believe that the inspired authors use their intellect, their will, their understanding of culture and language. In fact, this is why some books of the Bible, even in the New Testament, have better Greek than others. Some of them&#8230; I remember my Greek professor saying, you know, some of them, you know, a few of them, the grammar is not very good at times. And others like&#8230; I mean, Book of Hebrews is a very&#8230;
It&#8217;s written by somebody who really knew Greek really, really well, and it was in St. Paul. But we&#8217;re not exactly sure who. It may have been Apollos, may have been&#8230; It was probably someone, Pauline, who had contact with Paul, but it certainly wasn&#8217;t. It&#8217;s pretty certain today that it was not Paul. But anyway, here&#8217;s the point. Is that they will use also categories that were well known at the time to communicate truth. Let me&#8230; Gabe, I&#8217;ll give you an example.
A weatherman today in San Diego may say, &#8220;Sunrise tomorrow is&#8230;&#8221; What? &#8220;6 o&#8217;clock or 5.45, whenever it is.&#8221;
Would we say that, oh boy, that weatherman, he must be a geocentrist because he believes the sun rises. Oh my gosh, how can he be so stupid? But no, he doesn&#8217;t believe the sun actually rises and the earth stays still, but we use what we call phenomenological language. In fact, all languages employ phenomenological language to express realities as they are perceived. Like in Daniel chapter 12, when Daniel talks about the resurrection and says, &#8220;Those who are asleep in the dust will rise.&#8221; Now, he doesn&#8217;t literally mean that people are sleeping in the dust and they&#8217;re going to rise. But phenomenologically, if you look at a dead body and it comes to life, it looks like it&#8217;s sleeping and it comes to life and rises. And so that&#8217;s the way language develops over thousands and thousands of years, is we speak of things in the way that they appear. So, no, the weatherman is not saying he&#8217;s a geocentrist, he&#8217;s simply using language the way the language is employed at the time in which he is speaking in the same way. When you talk about the flood, the flood can be understood as, yes, the whole world was flooded, but it can be understood as the whole world as perceived by the ancient writer. The ancient writer had no idea that there was a continent on the other side of the planet. He had no idea Columbus wouldn&#8217;t come along for a long, long time. So, his whole world flooded, absolutely. So, in that sense, yes. And by the way, there is a lot of evidence, yes, scientific evidence, not for the entire world being flooded,
but for a massive flood or perhaps a series of floods. Most likely, at least it may well have been one massive flood that various different cultures comment on that are from that area. I mean, that&#8217;s one explanation. There could have been multiple massive floods, but most likely there was this massive flood in antiquity that was devastating,
took away entire peoples in particularly populated areas and so forth, and that&#8217;s the way it gets communicated down through the centuries. And of course, God used that and Noah and so forth as a, you know,
to kind of further God&#8217;s covenantal relationship with his people. So, the thing is, Gabe, and I know you and I have talked about this before, there&#8217;s a fundamental flaw with folks who want to employ the Bible as a scientific book, and it is not. It is a book about salvation. It uses real history, absolutely, and I believe the flood was a real historical event in order to communicate essential teachings concerning salvation. But we don&#8217;t want to, and I&#8217;ll toss out another idea here, Gabe. The book of Genesis is not about talking snakes.
You know, we don&#8217;t have to believe as Catholics there was a literal talking snake. The inspired author uses a story that was a popular story in the culture in which he lived. And in fact, there are similar stories told, for example, the Anuma Elish among the Babylonians, and we have other cosmological sorts of stories of beginnings in other cultures. They&#8217;re very different from what we find in Genesis in many ways, but in some ways, there are parallels, which seem to indicate that there was somewhat of a common story that was told way back when, but with the divergences of cultures and so forth, we have divergences of religions as well. And so, there you go.
Hey, thanks for watching. If you liked this Catholic Answer, be sure to like, subscribe, and check out our livestreams Monday through Friday, 3 to 5 PM Pacific, or find the episode after on YouTube, your favorite podcast platform, or our Catholic Answers app.

Has Science Disproved Biblical Claims?

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CHALLENGE
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“Why should I pay attention to the Bible at all? It’s an ancient book written by people of limited understanding. Besides, other religions have their own scriptures, too. Why are they any less important?”
DEFENSE
The Christian scriptures are unique and valuable.
The mere fact that the books of the Bible were written a long time ago is no reason to look down on or dismiss them. To do so would be chrono-logical snobbery. Just because a person wrote before you doesn’t mean that person was wrong. If it did, we would have to dismiss all works written in the past, obliterating our knowledge of history and prevent- ing knowledge from being passed from one generation to another.
The question is not when a work was written but whether it contains truth. Because of the growth of various fields of knowledge, we may expect more recently written works to contain more of certain types of truth—e.g., truths about math or science—but the information that we seek from Scripture isn’t on those topics. Instead, we are seeking truth of a religious nature—e.g., about God and his dealings with man—and this is an area that is largely beyond the powers of natural reason to investigate for itself.
Consequently, for us to have this information, God must take the initiative: He must reveal himself to man. If God does so and when God does so is entirely up to him. For it to happen at all, it must take place at some point in human history, and—unless God were to make contact with man for the very first time at the end of the world—future ages would look back on that time and view it as ancient. That’s not an indication it is false or that he didn’t do it. The question, therefore, is what evidence we have that God made contact with man and that the Bible preserves what he revealed to us.
Here apologetics becomes relevant. In particular, the arguments supporting God’s existence and the occurrence of miracles, especially the Resurrection of Jesus, play an important role. The first set of arguments support the proposition that there is a God who might choose to contact mankind, and the second support the Bible as the record of the resulting revelation. Other religions do not have comparable evidence.
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</div>
</div>
</div>

Ancient Scriptures

Today is my oldest child’s twenty-eighth birthday. Every year, the arrival of August 4 (feast of St. John Vianney—pray for priests!) sets off a similar routine:
-I express incredulity at his advancing age, which surely can’t be that much less than my own at this point. Then I yell at neighborhood kids to get off my lawn.
-There are group texts and phone calls with him and his six siblings, who, I never stop feeling blessed to note, all love one another.
-I mention on Facebook or in a conversation that this is the anniversary of the day I “became a father.”
-I get shirty corrections from well-meaning people who inform me that I became a father when he was conceived, because pro-life.
Okay.
Look, I am as hard-core about the full humanity of the unborn as anyone, even among other pro-life Catholics. I tend to favor embryo adoption, for instance, where many Catholic moralists say (and it may be the more probable opinion of the Church) that it&#8217;s impermissible.
But although it’s technically correct that someone becomes a parent at the moment of his or her first child’s conception, in the sense that the unborn child is a full human being with a mother and a father, there is nonetheless a hiddenness to that child’s time in the womb. He hasn’t yet come into the world; there’s a still-to-be-completed aspect to the whole arrangement.
This is surely why we celebrate Christmas as a specially solemn feast, even more so than the Annunciation (when the Lord was conceived) or the Visitation (when John the Baptist leapt in the womb at his presence). The Incarnation has already occurred; Mary is the mother of God. But it’s only at the Nativity that the shrouded, silent intimacy of pregnancy gives way to the visible, audible, unmistakably public presence of God made man, in the world. 
Mary’s divine maternity, and the guardianship of God’s foster-father Joseph, become fully realized when Jesus is born. That’s why we devote whole seasons to preparing for and commemorating that birth.
And of course, it’s after a child is born that mother and father become fully initiated into all the subjective, practical, phenomenological aspects of parenthood—the love and care, the feedings and bodily fluids, the lost sleep and discipline and lifetime of worry that make even an adoptive parent a true father or mother. In a world where there is a sad and ever-growing distinction between being a dad or mom and being a mere baby-daddy or -mama, we shouldn’t let Pro-Life Prenatal Correctness bully us into ignoring that parenthood is as much about doing as being.
So happy birthday to Joe, my oldest boy, the man who made me a father twenty-eight years ago and who makes me proud every day. (And no, I don’t say “eldest”—that’s a topic for another post…)

When Did I Become a Dad?

Jimmy Akin explains some of the Biblical, historical, and numerological significance of the &#8220;Number of the Beast&#8221; from <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/print-edition/apocalypse">the book of Revelation</a>.
Transcript:
Host: Sara in Mobile, Alabama, listening on 1410 AM Archangel radio, you are on with Jimmy Akin, what&#8217;s your question?
Caller: Hi, I teach at seventh grade Sunday School class, and this past week one of my students asked about why 666 was affiliated with the devil, and I wasn&#8217;t sure of the best answer for him.
Jimmy: Okay, well, the Bible doesn&#8217;t associate 666 directly with the devil. What it does do, in the book of Revelation, is it depicts a number, specifically, three kinds of monstrous beings. The first one we meet in Revelation chapter 12, and it&#8217;s a great dragon that has seven heads and ten horns. And that dragon is later identified as Satan. In chapter 13 of Revelation, we meet another monstrous being that&#8217;s described as a beast that emerges from the sea. And this beast also has seven heads and ten horns, and looks a lot like the devil therefore, but he&#8217;s different than the devil and he emerges from the sea. Clearly, though, he&#8217;s allied with the devil, because the devil gives this beast power, and encourages people to worship this beast, and so this beast is kind of the devil&#8217;s agent on Earth.
And there are different interpretations about what this beast represents. In my opinion, it represents the line of the Roman emperors, and specifically the Emperor Nero, or it has a special connection with the Emperor Nero. And the reason I say that is because we&#8217;re told that the number of this beast is 666, and so by extension you could kind of say, &#8220;Well, the number&#8217;s associated with the devil,&#8221; but really in the book of Revelation it&#8217;s actually the number of the Beast, and the Beast is not the same as the devil, but they are allied with each other. That&#8217;s the basic literal relationship that&#8217;s going on here.
In terms of if you want to go a little deeper into the meaning of the number, well, scholars have actually pointed out quite a few different interesting things about this number. The ancients made kind of a study of numbers, and were very interested in the different properties they had, and one of the things about the number 666 is that it&#8217;s what&#8217;s known as a triangular number. And I won&#8217;t explain what that is because you kind of need a diagram to understand what a triangular number is and I can&#8217;t do that on the radio, but Google &#8220;triangular number 666&#8221; and you&#8217;ll find out some interesting stuff.
Also, in ancient languages like Greek and Latin and Hebrew and Aramaic, they didn&#8217;t have a separate set of numbers, and so then the letters the alphabet doubled as numbers, and what that meant is you could take a word, like a person&#8217;s name or a phrase, and add up the numerical value of the letters and get a number. And in fact, if you take &#8220;NERO CAESAR&#8221; and add it up, you get 666. And so put that together with other evidence that we have in Revelation about the Beast and his activities, which include persecuting Christians and demanding worship just like the Roman emperors did, there&#8217;s a good case to be made that the Beast is to be identified with the line of Roman emperors and has a special connection with the emperor Nero. And that&#8217;s one of the reasons that 666 is his number, because that&#8217;s what you get if you add up &#8220;NERO CAESAR&#8221; the way it would ordinarily be spelled at the time.
Host: Sara?
Caller: Very interesting, thank you.
Jimmy: Sure thing.
Host: Very good, thank you, and Jimmy, just for clarification, even if that 666 represents &#8220;NERO CAESAR,&#8221; is it also the case that, because this is a kind of a, not poetic, but a symbolic language, it can also mean other things in addition?
Jimmy: Yes, in fact it does. We know that because in Revelation 17 we&#8217;re told that the seven heads of the Beast represent both seven mountains, like the seven hills of Rome, AND seven kings, and that seems to be the first seven Roman emperors, which would be Augustus, Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius, and Nero&#8211;and we&#8217;re told five of them are fallen, so that would be those five&#8211;one of them IS&#8211;that would be Nero&#8217;s successor, Galba&#8211;and then it talks about a seventh who&#8217;s gonna come and reign for a short while, and that would be Galba&#8217;s successor Otto, who reigned for, like, three months.
Host: Oh okay, okay. So, but now, what I was thinking was, what about, could this refer also to things that have not yet happened? Like in our future?
Jimmy: Yeah. Yeah, sure, there can be echoes of these things in our future, just like prophecies also have echoes in later times, but in terms of what the literal primary fulfillment is, at least in my opinion, best money is on a first century fulfillment.
Host: Well, thank you, Jimmy Akin.

Why Is the Number 666 Affiliated with the Devil?

<div>Did Eve fall along with Adam, or was she just decieved?</div><div>Eve certainly fell with Adam. That’s why they both were banished from the Garden of Eden and not simply Adam alone (see CCC 390, 496-401).
</div>

Did Eve Fall with Adam?

Debate tip: don’t strawman. Steelman.

<div>May I be anointed every time there is anointing of the sick at Mass or just one time?</div><div>The Catechism of the Catholic Church:
<blockquote>If a sick person who received this anointing recovers his health, he can in the case of another grave illness receive this sacrament again. If during the same illness the person’s condition becomes more serious, the sacrament may be repeated. It is fitting to receive the Anointing of the Sick just prior to a serious operation. The same holds for the elderly whose frailty becomes more pronounced (1515).</blockquote>
The Code of Canon Law:
<blockquote>This sacrament can be repeated if the sick person, having recovered, again becomes gravely ill or if the condition becomes more grave during the same illness (can. 1004 §2).</blockquote>
If you have been anointed and are no longer ill, then you should not be anointed again. If, however, you were anointed and there are ongoing sufferings and issues, then you may be anointed again periodically.
</div>

How Often One May Be Anointed

<div>What Is Lent?</div><div>Lent is a season of preparation for Easter, mirroring Jesus’ forty days in the desert and also anticipating his passion, death, and triumphant resurrection:
<blockquote>“By the solemn forty days of Lent the Church unites herself each year to the mystery of Jesus in the desert.” (CCC 540, see 542)</blockquote>
Additionally, paragraph 1438 of the Catechism describes Lent as a penitential season:
<blockquote>The seasons and days of penance in the course of the liturgical year (Lent, and each Friday in memory of the death of the Lord) are intense moments of the Church’s penitential practice. These times are particularly appropriate for spiritual exercises, penitential liturgies, pilgrimages as signs of penance, voluntary self-denial such as fasting and almsgiving, and fraternal sharing (charitable and missionary works). [CCC 1438, emphasis original] </blockquote>
Thus, Lent is a season of spiritual preparation, one that not only looks forward to the joy of Jesus’ Resurrection (beginning with the Easter Octave), but also provides the faithful—both Catholics and those joining the Church—an annual opportunity to fortify their faith and otherwise grow in holiness for the sake of Christ’s kingdom (John 13:34-35; see Matt. 6:10; 24:14).

For those preparing to become Catholic—whether catechumens (who will receive all three sacraments of initiation: baptism, confirmation and the Eucharist) or candidates (baptized Christians who will receive confirmation and the Eucharist)—Lent is a period of learning and spiritual formation that leads to their coming into full communion with our Lord Jesus Christ and his Catholic Church at the Easter Vigil. For existing Catholics, Lent is an opportunity to reflect on their faith and strengthen their relationship with God and others through prayer, fasting, acts of charity, and spiritual reading.
Each year, then, by calling us to turn away from sin and soul-sapping distractions, Lent helps us focus on what truly matters, drawing us closer to God as we prepare to celebrate the triumphant joy of the Easter season.
<h2>More Resources About Lent</h2>
Top 20 Questions and Answers about Lent <a href="https://www.catholic.com/tract/top-20-questions-and-answers-about-lent">Catholic Answers Q&amp;A Guide for Lent</a>
When is Ash Wednesday? <a href="https://www.catholic.com/tract/ash-wednesday-the-first-day-of-lent" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Catholic Answers Guide for Lent</a>
When is Holy Week? <a href="https://www.catholic.com/tract/holy-week-catholic-answers-guide-to-holy-week" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Catholic Answers Guide for Holy Week</a>
<iframe title="Child Asks How to Explain Lent to His Friends" width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ItlsClY88so?feature=oembed" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen=""/>
</div>

What Is Lent?

Does the Bible actually allow abortion?

The problem of "eternal security"...

One of the frequent claims made by Protestants and skeptics of <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/print-edition/transubstantiation-for-beginners">Catholic eucharistic doctrine</a> is that it’s just too complicated. The doctrine of transubstantiation is too much for the human mind to grasp. It’s just ridiculous to believe that bread and wine are completely transformed into the substance of flesh and blood. The bread and wine are clearly still there, for crying out loud. <a href="https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/william-of-ockham">Occam&#8217;s razor</a> points to a simpler solution.
Eucharistic theology is not meant to be easy. The early Church writer Pseudo-Dionysius found that it is, in fact, impossible to sufficiently explain the truths surrounding the divine essence. But even if theology were meant to be comprehensible, Protestants would be at a loss, for the only thing less sensible than transubstantiation is its alternatives.
Whereas all too many Protestants now dismiss the Eucharist as merely a symbol, the original Reformers and many of the more orthodox Protestant denominations (Lutherans, Irvingians, Presbyterians, Anglicans, etc.) hold to some version of the theological concept of <a href="https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/consubstantiation">consubstantiation</a>. This theology seeks to reconcile the physical “breadlike” properties of the post-consecration Eucharist with Jesus’ insistence that this substance is his body.
Consubstantial means “of the same substance.” The idea is that the Eucharist is two things simultaneously, fully Christ and fully bread. When we put it this way, it instantly brings to mind another similar doctrine, the theology of the <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/did-the-incarnation-cause-god-to-change">hypostatic union</a>, by which Christ incarnated is fully man and fully God. The Arian heresy argued that Christ himself was something along the lines of “just a symbol”— just a created fleshly being who serves as a representative from God to men. The modern orthodox Protestants respond to eucharistic Arianism the same way the early Church responded to Christological Arianism in the Nicene creed: Just as Christ is consubstantial with the Father, the bread is consubstantial with Christ.
Protestants disputing transubstantiation can say what they will in favor of consubstantiation, however they may define it—but one thing they can’t say is that it’s more rational or more simple than Catholic eucharistic dogma. After all, if consubstantiation means consubstantial—and it does—and if God is consubstantial with Christ—and he is—and if Christ is consubstantial with a piece of bread—which he is not—then a piece of bread would be something of a Fourth Person of the Trinity. And that’s going to require a lot more mental legwork to explain than the simple, albeit mysterious, dogma of transubstantiation.
Now, the Trinity is a mystery of faith that is <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/how-not-to-share-the-trinity">almost impossible</a> to grasp. But the various creeds dogmatically assert that the three persons therein are consubstantial. The Athanasian creed—which most orthodox Protestants profess—says specifically that “we worship one God in Trinity and Trinity in Unity. Neither confounding the Persons, nor dividing the Substance.” It is precisely the fact that the three persons are identical in their substance that makes them one God. So if something else were to become consubstantial with any person of the Trinity, it would become God. Humans, by contrast, become the body of Christ in the Church, and so we “become” God through a process called <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/a-word-that-every-catholic-needs-to-know">theosis</a>, or participation in the life of Christ by grace. But there’s a major difference between theosis and consubstantiation. Theosis is a perfection of our human nature to (in a manner of speaking) make us “gods, sons of the Most High (Ps. 82:6; see John 10:34),” but consubstantiation specifically does not change the nature of bread. It is not any closer to the platonic form of bread—as anyone who has eaten stale matzoh knows well—yet, according to the teaching, it is fully God while still retaining its bread-nature. The bread is consubstantial with the Son, and therefore with the Father, and therefore with the Holy Spirit. How can it be called anything but a second Incarnation?
There is a way of working around this issue: by claiming that Jesus is only spiritually consubstantial with the bread. This, however, runs up against other significant problems. First of all, saying that Jesus’ soul can be present without his body is problematic to begin with. Jesus is a man, which means he has a human soul. Protestants profess this, too, when they recite the Athanasian creed. The soul and the body are a union for human beings (Gaudium et Spes 14). The soul is not a free-floating entity that can be supported by any kind of physical object. But even if humans were spiritual beings who only possess our bodies—<a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/a-fake-quote-from-c-s-lewis">as the Gnostics taught</a>—it would still be hard to make the case for Christ being spiritually present in a piece of bread. But even if we take this case for granted, a spirit “present” in an object is not at all “consubstantial” with the object. A human is not fully body and fully soul, but a unity of the two. We are not, for instance, consubstantial with the Holy Spirit merely because he is present in us.
Detractors of transubstantiation can <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/catholic-cannibals">accuse us</a> of <a href="https://www.catholic.com/qa/is-receiving-the-eucharist-cannibalism">cannibalism</a> if they like, but railing at us for creating a stumbling block with our overly confusing eucharistic theology is unjust. Actually, I think Protestants really have the opposite problem with transubstantiation. The problem with it is not that it’s abstruse and philosophical, but rather that it&#8217;s incredibly simple. All it requires is the unassuming faith of a child. The only explanation needed is “ecce agnus dei.” The Protestant view—meant to appeal to the intellect—is truly the head-scratcher.

Nothing Beats Transubstantiation

Tim Ryland, editor of Catholic Answers Magazine helps us close 2020 with a reflection on the state of journalism. Specifically, given the parlous state of journalism, how can anyone know the truth about what the heck is going on?

Journalism and Truth

Most of us by now are becoming intrigued with artificial intelligence (AI). Tasks once done only by human hands are now being accomplished by computer systems, which are replacing human intelligence, visual perception, speech, and decision-making.
Humankind also has an image of a crucified man on a linen cloth, known as the Shroud of Turin. This Shroud, showing the image of Jesus, has for over 1,500 years been considered “not made by human hands”—and now, today, we have non-human hands re-creating what Jesus looked like from that same image.
To date, images of Jesus made by artists are still being found. Spanish researchers in 2014 found an underground structure within a series of buried tombs from the sixth century in Egypt after removing forty-five tons of rock over twenty years. When they reached the walls of the structure, they found <a href="https://www.thelocal.es/20140425/spanish-team-finds-hidden-tomb-of-jesus">a painting</a> on the wall. The team of Catalan archaeologists believe that their discovery is one of the earliest depictions of Jesus the Christ. The image was made by the earliest Coptic Christians in Egypt. The lead researcher, Josep Padró, described the painting: &#8220;The figure is of a young man, with curly hair, dressed in a short tunic and with his hand raised as if giving a blessing.&#8221;
Around ten years ago, artists such as Ray Downing created illustrations depicting Jesus’ face from the Shroud of Turin. Now AI software has joined these human hands. Due to the features presented by the image on the Shroud, AI is able to create detailed portraits.
Unlike any other image made by humankind, the image on the Shroud is not a positive one. All paintings, drawings, and printed photographs present us with an image that is positive and two-dimensional. The image on the Shroud of Turin, by contrast is a negative, like a photo negative, produced when light exposes the silver halides on photographic film. No human-made artwork can do that.
Additionally, Jesus’ image on the Shroud gives us three-dimensional data. The reason for this is the distance between the cloth and the body, leaving shadows of depth when the image was created. This statistically impossible event is seen when the Shroud’s image is observed with a VP-8 scanner. Again, no image made by humankind can do this in a VP-8 scanner. Only two-dimensional data are seen.
As a result of the three-dimensional data from the Shroud of Turin’s image, AI software has all the information needed to create <a href="https://www.deseret.com/faith/2024/08/28/shroud-of-turin-age-ai/">an excellent rendering</a> via the more accurate digital mapping of Christ’s features. The computer then takes this excellent rendering and adds color, which is a drastic contrast to the black-and-white image we have all seen. Another powerful feature from the AI images of Jesus’ face is that his eyes are open.
What should we make of this new image, and the flood of others doubtless to come? Since AI is becoming a popular discussion, perhaps having these AI images of our Lord is a good thing. They are making the rounds on social media, and that translates into more young people talking about Jesus. However, some people have voiced disapproval of artificial intelligence and toward these generated images of Jesus. Even some scientists, graphic artists, and photographers have stated that the latest AI images of Jesus lack cultural details. Well, if these details are not programmed into the software by human hands, then they will not appear in the final product. One example is the eyes generated by AI. Blue eyes stand a pretty low chance of being a feature of Jesus, who was from the Holy Land. Well styled hair isn’t believable, either.
These are some of the attributes of current AI images that give some people reason for dismay. However, we must note that all human art renditions previously made also have an artist’s interpretation.
The fact that AI has offered humankind another way to see Jesus’ face may be viewed as a positive outcome if it helps to create more conversations around the world about the Son of God. As for the Shroud, we are left with not one claim standing to doubt its authenticity. And so what remains is Jesus’ message. And it was not made by human hands . . . or by AI.

Artificial Intelligence Tries the Face of Jesus

Pope Leo I vs. Attila the Hun

<div>How to explain why homosexual acts are still prohibited but not things such as trimming your beard?</div><div>Some people like to dismiss the Old Testament’s teaching on homosexual sex (sodomy), given that the Book of Leviticus also banned such things as not wearing clothing made of two materials:
<blockquote>“nor shall there come upon you a garment of cloth made of two kinds of stuff” (Lev. 19:19).</blockquote>
Such analysis fails to distinguish between changeable discipline and unchangeable doctrine. The clothing issue, like prohibitions on certain types of food, which were relaxed in the New Covenant (see Acts 10:9-16; Act 15:28-29), involve changeable disciplines.
In other words, matters regarding clothing and food are not, in and of themselves, intrinsic moral evils. That is, they are not actions that are always and everywhere objectively gravely wrong. Ditto with a man’s trimming his beard (Lev. 19:27).
On the other hand, certain sexual actions are intrinsic moral evils, including adultery, fornication and sodomy (whether between two males or two females). That is why even in Leviticus, homosexual relations are referred to as “an abomination” (Leviticus 18:22; 20:13). That’s also why homosexual sex is condemned also in Genesis 19 and Romans 1 (and elsewhere in the New Testament), and that’s why the issue wasn’t even on Jesus’ radar as a controverted matter (see also CCC 2357-59).
On the other hand, we need to treat people who experience same-sex attraction (SSA) as brothers and sisters in Christ, and remember that all men and women are called to chastity according to their state in life. <a href="https://couragerc.org/">Courage</a> is a great Catholic apostolate that serves those experiencing SSA.
</div>

Unlike Other OT Proscriptions, Sodomy Law Unchangeable

<div>How could Jesus speak with his mother at wedding at Cana? Is it because they didn’t start to practice gender separation back then, or is it a Jewish wedding? (It seems he’s very comfortable to hang out with Gentiles in the Gospels.) </div><div>Given their proximity in the womb and infancy, there’s always been a closeness between a Jewish mother and her son, including the Blessed Mother and Jesus. So conversation between them would’ve been normal and expected throughout their lives, including for Jesus to fulfill the Fourth Commandment.
On the other hand, as you noted, there is the separation of men and women for worship at Orthodox synagogues. For more on that, see <a href="http://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/160962/jewish/Separation-in-the-Synagogue.htm">this presentation</a>.
</div>

Jesus Speaking with Mary at Cana

The recent ruling regarding Medjugorje

Why isn’t the Bible written in such a way that there isn’t wiggle room on moral topics?

Can you explain the difference of the Greek and Aramaic word for “my Church” in Matthew 16:18?

How can I respond to the Pope’s comments in Singapore that all religions lead to God?

How can I effectively Catechize my daughters without over complicating the faith?

How late can you be to a Sunday Mass for it to be considered valid attendance?

Do we get to meet our Guardian Angels in heaven?

Why does a marriage need to be consummate in the Catholic church?

How do we reconcile our free will with God’s omniscience?

If Jesus and Mary’s bodies are in heaven, would other symbiotic organisms be with them?

Can divorced Catholics be allowed to receive Holy Communion?

Ask Me Anything

Aura farming @TheCounselofTrent

Joe breaks down how Christ and the saints teach us to use fasting, almsgiving and prayer to combat the Triple Concupiscence.
Transcript:
JOE:
Welcome back to Shameless Popery. I&#8217;m Joe Heschmeyer and the season of Lent starts tomorrow. For many Christians, it&#8217;s a time to give up chocolate and such, and that&#8217;s fine, but it kind of misses the point. I don&#8217;t want to have a forgettable lint, and I don&#8217;t want your Lent to be forgettable either, because the fact is lint in penance has the power to completely transform our lives. But for it to do that, we need to know what the Bible highlights as the three sources of temptation and sin, and then the three tools that Jesus gives us to combat these sins. So let&#8217;s talk about our problems first and then look at the solutions. When we talk about types of sins, there&#8217;s various formulations, for instance, number the seven deadly sins, pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, and sloth. Or you can group the sins by which of the 10 commandments they violate.
For instance, sins of theft, covetousness, and so on. But there&#8217;s another way of grouping the sins, one which even many Christians are unfamiliar with, even though it&#8217;s a grouping we find within the Bible itself. St. John warns us in one John chapter two that there are three types of sin that are incompatible with the love of God. These are sometimes called the triple concupiscence, meaning they&#8217;re the three types of temptation, and these temptations are lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, and pride of life. Understanding each of these three types of sin is critical to see where in your life you might be drawn away from the love of God. Now, the first of these three is pretty straightforward, lust of the flesh. You have a natural desire for food, for drink, for sex and the like. Those things are good in themselves. Without food and drink, you don&#8217;t survive without sexual reproduction, the species doesn&#8217;t survive.
But these desires, like all earthly desires, can become disordered. That&#8217;s going to include the sin that we normally call lust, disordered sexual desires, but it&#8217;s also going to include sins like gluttony and drunkenness. But there are other kinds of disordered desires as well, other kinds of lusts that we might have. And John calls this second category, lust of the eyes. So think about this as the desire to have more and more stuff, the most money, the latest technology, the best clothes and his car and so forth. Now, you might be confused here between the term lust of the flesh and lust of the eyes. After all, seeing a beautiful woman might be a trigger for sexual lust. But the idea is that at root, the desire for things like food, drink and sex comes from within it&#8217;s internal. Even in a world with that advertising or external temptation, you&#8217;d still desire those things, but your desire for material goods is a desire introduced to you.
From outside you see an ad, you find out your friend has some cool gadget, you hear about a new product, and now you start to covet it. So lust of the flesh deals with physical things that we crave naturally. These are kind of the temptations that come from within. Lust of the eyes deals with physical things that we crave, but they&#8217;re not natural cravings. They&#8217;re introduced to us from outside, but we&#8217;re not just drawn towards physical pleasures, the pleasures of the flesh or material possessions. We also crave non-physical things. We crave things like glory and honor. And as with pleasures and riches, it&#8217;s not inherently evil to desire those things. It&#8217;s not bad to want to be great when the apostles debate amongst themselves about which of them is the greatest. Jesus doesn&#8217;t rebuke them for wanting greatness. He shows them what Christian greatness looks like.
But as with the other two kinds of desire, our desire for excellence can easily go overboard. So St. Thomas Aquinas will describe pride as the appetite for excellence in excess of right reason. And this sin pride is actually the worst of the spiritual traps as CS Lewis put it in mere Christianity, it was through pride that the devil became the devil. Pride leads to every other vice. It is the complete anti-God state of mind. So these are the three kinds of temptations we&#8217;ve got to watch out for. Lust of the flesh is about the sinful pursuit of bodily pleasure. Lust of the eyes is about the sinful pursuit of riches and pride of life is about the sinful pursuit of honor and renowned our own glory and our desires. These make good servants, but they make terrible masters. So if you haven&#8217;t yet, this might be a good point to pause and consider which of these three areas is your biggest weakness? Where are your worldly desires leading you away from God? What will destroy your relationship with God if you don&#8217;t watch out for it? And just as importantly, what can we do about it? Now, Jesus has entrusted us with three spiritual weapons in particular against these three types of temptation. And during the season of Lent, the church reminds us of these three weapons. Tomorrow, if you listen to the call collect during mass, you&#8217;re going to hear this prayer
CLIP:
Grant, oh Lord, that we may begin with holy fasting, this campaign of Christian service so that as we take up battle against spiritual evils, we may be armed with weapons of self-restraint. So we are in
JOE:
The midst of a spiritual battle, a military campaign in the army of the Lord, and our weapons are the weapons of self-restraint. Well, what are those weapons in particular? We just heard about one of them fasting, but there are two others, prayers and alms giving or good works. Now, Jesus points us to each of these three weapons and they correspond with the three areas of weakness that we&#8217;ve just seen. Jesus introduces him to us by telling us to beware of practicing your piety before men in order to be seen by them. So these are the three ways that he tells us to practice our piety, but he warns us to do them not for the praise of men, but for our own spiritual good and to grow closer to God. Now, Jesus tells us that when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right-handed is doing.
And he says that when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your father who is in secret, and that when you fast anoint your head and wash your face. Now, that&#8217;s a fascinating set of instructions. Jesus has just called up the hypocrites for praying, fasting and giving alms in an ostentatious way to win the approval of others. But he doesn&#8217;t tell us to avoid praying, fasting, or giving ohms. He just tells us how to do those things better. In fact, these works of piety are optional. It&#8217;s not a question of if you pray, if you fast or if you give alms, it&#8217;s a question of how to do it when you do it. So these three weapons are perfectly suited to combat the three types of temptation that St. John warns us about. Fasting helps us in our fight against the lust of the flesh.
Alms giving helps us in our fight against the lust of the eyes, and prayer helps in our fight against the pride of life. But let&#8217;s take a closer look at each one to see why that is. So let&#8217;s say you struggle with lust of the flesh at heart. The problem is this. You&#8217;ve got a hard time saying no to your bodily desires. You fight it hard, maybe even to say not right now or not so much. Maybe it&#8217;s your drinking or food or sexual desire, whatever. It&#8217;s what&#8217;s the best weapon to combat that fasting? Back in the four hundreds, Pope St. Leo, the great pointed out that in the Old Testament when Israel sinned against the Lord, the prophet Samuel told them to return to the Lord of all their heart, to put away their foreign gods and to serve God only and that he would deliver them.
And what did they do? They turned back to God with prayer and with fasting, and sure enough, God delivered them. Leo reflecting on this suggested that just as the Israelites restored their powers of mind and body by the injunction of a fast, so too we can only win the fight against our spiritual enemies through prayer and fasting. And he suggested that we should seek divine aid by the observance of the heavenly bidding, knowing that we cannot otherwise prevail against our adversaries unless we prevail against our own selves. Simply put, if you can&#8217;t say no to your own body, you&#8217;re not ready for spiritual combat. And the way you learn to say no to your body is by doing it. The linin fast is a time to say no even to things which aren&#8217;t of themselves sinful, so that you&#8217;re that much more prepared to say no when you&#8217;re tempted by things that are sinful.
And this by the way, helps to explain why the linin fast is a communal fast. Look, it&#8217;s good for Christians to be in the habit of private personal fasting, the kind that Jesus speaks about in Matthew six. But there are also times when like Israel in the Old Testament, the whole Christian people pray and fast together, not as an ostentatious display to try to impress one another, but because as Pope Leo the great said, it&#8217;s during this time of Lent that the greatest and most binding of fast is kept and its observance is imposed on all the faithful without exception because no one is so holy that he ought not to be holier nor so devout that he might not be devourer. But our fast can&#8217;t just be simply self-denial. Otherwise, the Saint Augustine points out it could easily become a mere self-improvement project, kind of like a diet by itself.
He warns fasting Chas your own self. It does not refresh others. So how can our fasting profit others? Well, by combining fasting with the other spiritual weapons of prayer and of allum giving, Augustine asks, how many poor may be filled by the breakfast we have this day given up? So a good spiritual practice to be in is to take the money you saved from fasting you didn&#8217;t get lunch or breakfast that day, and then give it to those who need it as alms. Now that sound biblical counsel, God warns for the prophet Isaiah about those who fast only to quarrel and to fight saying that fasting like yours this day will not make your voice to be heard on high. Instead, the true fast is to share your bread with the hungry. Then you shall call and the Lord will answer. You shall cry. And he will say, here I am.
And Augustine warns that when we do this, when we give alms in this way, it&#8217;s important that we do it cheerfully for if you give your bread reluctantly, you&#8217;ve lost both the bread and the merit of the action. So being intentional about this is key in helping us against the second kind of temptation, pride of the eyes. This practice of generosity with the poor is critical if we want the love of God to continue to abide within us. The Saint John warns if anyone has the world&#8217;s goods and sees his brother in need yet closes his heart against him. How does God&#8217;s love abide in him? Little children let us not love and word or speech, but indeed and in truth. So just as getting in the habit of saying no to the body is the way we discipline the body instead of being the slave to our bodily desires, getting in the habit of giving away money is key for disciplining our tendency towards covetousness.
It&#8217;s disciplining our relationship with money and material things. To put it another way, I&#8217;m less likely to spend my money frivolously or in a greedy way if I&#8217;ve already given it away to somebody who needs it more than I do. And look, if you are looking to give away your money, you&#8217;re free to do that at our patreon shameless joe.com. But saying anything more than that would truly be shameless. So that&#8217;s going to lead us with our third and final spiritual tool and our final temptation. You might have noticed a moment ago that God says through Isaiah that when we are praying and giving to the poor, then you shall call and the Lord will answer. You shall cry. And he will say, here I am. In other words, true fast and alms giving are meant to be accompanied by prayer and vice versa. In Augustine&#8217;s words, would you have your prayer fly upward to God make for those two wings of alms and fasting?
So these three tools aren&#8217;t just individually worthwhile weapons in our spiritual battle. They&#8217;re meant to go together. And of the three prayer is the most powerful in the fight against the worst of the three temptations, namely pride of life. CS Lewis describes it like this quote, in God you come up against something which is in every respect immeasurably superior to yourself unless you know God as that. And therefore, though yourself is nothing in comparison, you do not know God at all. As long as you&#8217;re proud, you cannot know God. A proud man is always looking down on things and people. And of course, as long as you&#8217;re looking down, you cannot see something that is above you. So pride of life is the temptation by which we make everything more and more about us and we can start to look down on those around us and to enjoy them looking up to us.
And the ultimate remedy for that is simply to stop looking down and to start looking up and to recognize our smallness before God. But then Lewis considers what he calls a terrible question. How is it that people who are quite obviously eaten up with pride can say they believe in God and appear to themselves very religious? And he answers this question, I&#8217;m afraid it means they&#8217;re worshiping an imaginary God. Worse. Jesus describes the self-righteous Pharisee as going into the temple and praying to himself. So it&#8217;s clear that we&#8217;re called not only to prayer, but a kind of honest prayer in which we realize around nothingness in relation to God. It&#8217;s the humble and honest prayer of the tax collector who beats his breath saying, God, be merciful to me as sinner. Humility and prayer are thus closely linked and they serve as our greatest tool against the devil.
There&#8217;s a saying from the desert Fathers, the devil can imitate everything. As for fasting, he never ate. As for watching, he never slept. But humble mindedness and love he cannot imitate. So let there be a great effort on our part to have love within us and to hate pride through which the devil fell out of heaven. That&#8217;s an important reminder for us. This lint at the end of Lent, we&#8217;re praying to ourselves saying, God, I thank thee that I&#8217;m not like other men, extortion, unjust, adulterers. Even like this tax collector, I fast twice a week, I give tithes of all that I get. We might look great on the outside, but our lint will have been a failure. Instead, let&#8217;s take this time of LT not only to fight against whatever inclinations we find within ourselves towards sin, but also to grow in our humility and in our relationships with God and with neighbor. As St. Thomas Aquinas points out, those three spiritual weapons also repair the three kinds of relationships in prayer. Our relationship with God improves in alms giving. We improve our relationships with our neighbor and in fasting we improve our relationships with ourselves. If you want to know more about the history of the season of lint and how it was practiced in the early church, check out, the history of Lint You Never Knew For Seamus, I&#8217;m Joe Heschmeyer. God bless you.
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This Is Why Your Lent Keeps Failing…

Wes Huff gets THIS wrong about the Bible…

In this free-for-all-Friday, Trent explores the now defunct anti-drug program D.A.R.E. and why it failed to keep kids off drugs.
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Transcript:
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Welcome to The Counsel of Trent podcast, a production of Catholic Answers.
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Do you know how to say no? Are you able to say no? Not to The Counsel of Trent podcast, of course. Our podcast is awesome. Always say yes to new episodes. But saying no to drugs. I dare you to say no to drugs. Because it turns out if I do that, you actually are more likely to say yes to drugs because the whole thing was a giant failure.
Welcome to The Council of Trent podcast. I&#8217;m your host Catholic Answers apologist and speaker Trent Horn. Monday and Wednesday we talk apologetics and theology, how to explain and defend the Catholic faith. But on Friday we talk about whatever I want to talk about. Whatever springs into my mind that I feel like talking about, I think you might enjoy me talking about it as well. I think for those of you especially who are around my age bracket, you have very similar nostalgic memories and things that are coming back to you as you start reaching your 30&#8217;s, 40&#8217;s, and it&#8217;s time to look back as you look ahead to the future.
For example, how do I talk to my kids about difficult issues like drugs? You got a lot of people that say drugs should be legal, and you drive by marijuana dispensaries, and it&#8217;s a lot different than I was a kid. And I remember back when the federal government was really invested in trying to get me to not do drugs. So if you&#8217;re in my age bracket, did you graduate high school the late &#8217;90s, early 2000s? If you did, you probably remember then going to elementary school in the late &#8217;80s and the early &#8217;90s. And you remember D.A.R.E., Drug Abuse Resistance Education. It had the cool red font D.A.R.E., and you could get your own D.A.R.E. T-shirt. And people would come. The guy&#8230; People were giving the talks. You could&#8230; Black T-shirt with the red D.A.R.E. letters on it. Just say no to drugs.
And I remember D.A.R.E. It was intense, actually. Because the people who came to teach it, they were cops. They were police officers. These weren&#8217;t people who were really trained to actually educate children and give them successful strategies and decision-making strategies. I think they were there really to scare us straight. That reminds me of that episode of The Office with Michael Scott. &#8220;I&#8217;m here to scare you straight.&#8221; Either to really scare us or, I&#8217;m going to be honest with you, I think a lot of them went there to tell kids, &#8220;You can say no to drugs. And by the way, if you know anyone who&#8217;s doing drugs, you can tell me. Because I&#8217;m a police officer, and that makes my caseload way easier if you rat out your parents or rat out other people who are doing drugs. So why don&#8217;t we all sit down in a circle? And the first question is, &#8216;Do you know anyone doing drugs, and where do they live?'&#8221;
But the program, what&#8217;s hilarious&#8230; Obviously drugs are bad, okay? Drugs are bad. Obviously drugs&#8230; It depends, of course, what you mean by drugs. But illegal drugs are often abused. They&#8217;re illicit. Legal drugs can be abused, right? The biggest crisis we have in our country now is people abusing legal opioids and the opioid addiction. Whereas back when I was a kid in the &#8217;90s, I think they were telling us the biggest thing is don&#8217;t do crack. Me, some suburban kid in the white part of town. &#8220;Don&#8217;t do crack, kids.&#8221; I don&#8217;t think in suburbia there&#8217;s that much of a crack epidemic going on, but it was all a thing back in the &#8217;80s. So I think that&#8217;s what everybody wanted to&#8230; You probably should have told us just not to smoke or drink, but I remember it was always about methamphetamines, speed, crack, crack cocaine. I&#8217;m thinking, &#8220;Wow, I don&#8217;t think anybody in this class has come anywhere close to these sorts of hard drugs.&#8221; Marijuana, maybe. I&#8217;m sure that happened, but not this other stuff.
So I have an article here I want to read to you and just talk about the D.A.R.E. program. &#8220;D.A.R.E. began in 1983. The federal government introduced this program. It was developed by Los Angeles Police Chief Daryl Gates and started in the LA Unified School District. And so D.A.R.E. workshops were delivered by policemen who would go into classrooms, kindergarten through grade 12, aimed at teaching kids to reject drug use and violent gang culture.&#8221;
I remember also being told to not wear gang colors. That was the other one. I remember one day they said, &#8220;Gangs are bad, okay? You don&#8217;t want to join a gang. You got your family. That&#8217;s the gang you need to have.&#8221; And being told&#8230; I remember being told in class, &#8220;Don&#8217;t wear gang colors.&#8221; But then none of the lecturers ever told us what gang colors there were. What am I actually not allowed to wear? And so you&#8217;re living in a state of fright. Or you&#8217;re told something generic like, &#8220;Don&#8217;t wear red because the Bloods wear red.&#8221; What is it? Bloods wear red. Crips wear blue. Or Latin Kings, they wear yellow. I don&#8217;t know. But it&#8217;s don&#8217;t wear red because gangs wear red. So if you wear your red Mario Brothers T-shirt, you&#8217;re going to get shot outside this&#8230;
I don&#8217;t mean to make fun of this. Obviously gangs and drugs are bad, and they&#8217;re still bad in really bad school districts around. But D.A.R.E. was not a really good&#8230; It was not a good program to try to combat gang violence or drug use. What it was trying to do.
So read the article here. It says, &#8220;After 10 years of the D.A.R.E. program, the American Psychological Association ran a study of over 1000 people who received D.A.R.E. education in the sixth grade. The study assessed the efficacy of the program by tracking the subsequent drug use of the subjects when they hit their 20s. The results of the study found that the program had no meaningful impact on rates of drug use, attitudes toward drugs, or self-esteem. The National Institute of Justice research found the program has some effect, but on a modest scale. And another study carried out by the University of Illinois concluded that the D.A.R.E. program was counterproductive. Students who participated in D.A.R.E. were more likely to use drugs.&#8221;
And that kind of makes sense to where I was at. A bunch of suburban kids, and this cop comes in and tells us, &#8220;Don&#8217;t do crack cocaine. Don&#8217;t do methamphetamines. Don&#8217;t smoke marijuana.&#8221; Why? You seem really uptight and bent out of shape. You don&#8217;t want us to do something? Maybe I do want to do it because it&#8217;s really fun, and I&#8217;m getting into the years where I&#8217;m going to be rebellious soon.
&#8220;Psychologist William Coulson said, &#8216;D.A.R.E. gives kids the confidence to say no to drugs and to say yes to drugs. It gives them more confidence than they should have.&#8217; By this, Coulson implies that the program educated students about drugs they were otherwise not aware of. One theory is that the D.A.R.E. program educates children on drugs, but approaches it from a non-educational standpoint by telling kids to say no instead of telling them what happens if they take the drug. This can lead to children participating in risky, ignorant behavior.&#8221; And I remember this. I remember it would tell you about drugs, say no to drugs, and there would be videos telling you what happens when you&#8217;re on drugs. But they weren&#8217;t graphic enough to scare us.
Honestly, you know what the scariest thing was to scare me away from drugs as a kid? There were these&#8230; The commercials. Public service announcements online. I think I was in junior high, so that would&#8217;ve been &#8217;98, &#8217;99. And it was smoking, and it had people vomiting up maggots into a sink. And there was actually a warning on the PSA saying, &#8220;Graphic. Caution advised,&#8221; to say this is what smoking is doing to you. At least that was graphic and would scare you. I don&#8217;t want to smoke or do something like that.
But I remember once watching a D.A.R.E. video. And they&#8217;re like, &#8220;What are methamphetamines? Methamphetamines are also called speed. People who take methamphetamines have hyperactive energy.&#8221; And I remember the clip was of this woman running around her kitchen, but she wasn&#8217;t running. She was just walking and they sped up the video. She wasn&#8217;t even trying to act frantic. She was probably walking normally and they just sped up the video to three times the speed. And she&#8217;s walking super fast around the kitchen, and she takes the milk. And instead of putting the milk in the refrigerator, she puts the milk in the oven. Crazy high jinks when we&#8217;re on meth. We&#8217;re on methamphetamines, we might forget to put the milk away. Getting more animated for this one maybe&#8230; Could be the methamphetamines.
But I remember that you would watch these, and it made drugs&#8230; Say no to drugs. Drugs are bad. But it wasn&#8217;t really encouraging you that much to not do drugs. Or gangs seemed cool. There was a whole&#8230; That we can go out and do stuff together, and they&#8217;ll accept me, and you can have a gun, and own an area of town.
When I was a kid, there was only one gang I wanted to join, and that was the Foot Clan. So you had Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles came out. I think that was what, 1990? Live action Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and it was actually kind of dark and gritty for a kid&#8217;s movie. The sequel Secrets of the Ooze is&#8230; Parents complained so the Turtles could not use their ninja weapons anymore. Super lame. But I remember in there the Foot Clan. One of the&#8230; The teenager in the movie gets tempted to join the Foot Clan and work for Shredder, and it was awesome. They were a gang, right? But it was an awesome gang. They had a half pipe where you could skateboard, they had arcade games, they had ninja weapons. I&#8217;m like, &#8220;Forget what this D.A.R.E. guy told me. If the Foot Clan tells me to join their gang, I want to be in. Shredder, sign me up.&#8221;
Anyway, it goes on to say here. &#8220;The D.A.R.E. program lost funding in 1998, and has since been replaced by the keepin&#8217; it REAL program.&#8221; REAL is all in caps. But the program is KIR, keepin&#8217; it REAL. &#8220;This program is more interactive based on the criticism that D.A.R.E. workshops just consisted of police officers standing up and talking. In keepin&#8217; it REAL workshops, students work together and practice saying no to each other through role playing. The keepin&#8217; it REAL website suggests that the program reduces rates of alcohol, marijuana, and tobacco use by 45%. Other people recommend things like cognitive behavioral therapy to help young people develop proper thinking habits, the ability to assess situations.&#8221;
And honestly, if I&#8217;m going to tell my kids about drugs, I&#8217;m not going to scare them to death. If you touch a marijuana joint, you&#8217;re going to die. You&#8217;re going to go crazy and get reefer madness. You go crazy, reefer madness. It&#8217;s just like anything. You don&#8217;t want to oversell the risk. I&#8217;m just going to tell my kids, &#8220;Look. Drugs, like a lot of things in life, are bad for you. They can be addictive. They&#8217;re unhealthy. And even if the worst things don&#8217;t happen, they&#8217;ll probably just make you lazy, and waste your time, and make you somebody you don&#8217;t really want to be. When you could be spending your time, energy, and your money on stuff that&#8217;s going to make you way happier in life.&#8221;
And I think that&#8217;s important. When you give people a message, you don&#8217;t want to overdramatize. &#8220;This is so bad. I&#8217;m not even going to say any more. Just say no.&#8221; You don&#8217;t want to act like it&#8217;s not a big deal either. You just want to be sober and realistic when you&#8217;re telling people, especially young people, about dangers. And then encourage them to say, &#8220;Look, you&#8217;re smart. You can think through a situation. How do you make the right decision in these different cases?&#8221;
And it&#8217;s important to be able to overcome peer pressure, not just to be some kind of weirdo. Don&#8217;t just say no. You can tell your friends, &#8220;I&#8217;m not interested in that. It&#8217;s not really my thing. I don&#8217;t really like smoking. I don&#8217;t like drinking. I&#8217;m okay. Why are you pressuring me? Why are you being weird? That&#8217;s kind of weird. You&#8217;re only going to be happy if I do this with you? Why do you care what I do?&#8221; I&#8217;m one of the cool kids. I know how to say no in a cool way. Not really. I&#8217;m still trying to figure that out.
All righty. Well, thank you guys so much. I hope this was a helpful retreat back into the nostalgia laden past of D.A.R.E., and all the things they told us as kids that may or may not have been true. Or at least may or may not have been effective. But thank you guys so much, and I hope you have a very blessed weekend.
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FFAF: The D.A.R.E. Program (and Why it Failed)

Episode 63: Year B &#8211; 5th Sunday of Ordinary Time
In this episode of the Sunday Catholic Word, we focus on two apologetical details found in the second reading and Gospel reading for this upcoming 5th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year B. The first detail is found in the second reading, which is taken from 1 Corinthians 9:16-19, 22-23. The relevant apologetical topic that we discuss is the idea of our participation in the saving work of Christ, which can be used to illuminate two apologetical topics: a) a proper understanding of the relation between the saints’ intercession and b) the unique mediation of Christ and a proper understanding of Mary as “co-redemptrix.” There are two topics of focus for the detail in the Gospel reading, taken from Mark 1:29-39, both of which are related—a) the historicity of the early church’s portrait of Jesus as an exorcist and b) Jesus’ divinity.
Readings: <a href="https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/020424.cfm">Click Here</a>
Looking for Sunday Catholic Word Merchandise? Look no further! <a href="https://shop.catholic.com/catholic-answers-merchandise/?q=sunday">Click Here</a>

How is Mary Co-Redemptrix?

The doctrine of <a href="https://amzn.to/3IruTwN">divine simplicity</a> denies that God is a composite—that is, that God is built up from any parts (components, constituents, etc.) more basic than himself. For Catholics, the doctrine of divine simplicity is a matter of dogma; there is no wiggle room in affirming that God is simple, though there is space for how best to understand this commitment—a topic for another time.
Whereas divine simplicity was historically the dominant theological perspective, in more recent decades, it has become controversial. Many Christian philosophers actively deny and attack it, arguing that it leads to various absurd results.
But divine simplicity should not be controversial at all. Rather, it follows straightforwardly from <a href="https://philpapers.org/rec/GELRKA">conceptual truths</a>—that is, truths that hold by virtue of the meanings of the terms or concepts involved, with no empirical investigation required. Put differently, once we are clear on what we mean by composite, on the one hand, and God, on the other, there really is no way around the idea that God—if God is to be God—must be absolutely simple.
Here&#8217;s a little argument that will help us see why:
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<li>Whatever is composite depends on prior components.</li>
<li>Whatever depends on something prior is not ultimate.</li>
<li>God is ultimate.</li>
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So God is not composite.
The first step in the argument is just one of these conceptual truths. After all, a composite just means something that depends on (or derives from) more basic components. Everyday, obvious examples would be LEGO towers and cars, where the entire entity is metaphysically downstream, as it were, from the bits and pieces that constitute it. No LEGO blocks, no LEGO tower—fairly obvious.
The second step is also, obviously, a basic conceptual truth—if something is ultimate, that means that’s where the buck stops. There can be nothing deeper down, nothing further back, and so forth. To say something is, at once, ultimate and yet dependent upon something else is just a straightforward contradiction in terms.
Next, we say that God is ultimate. It is a tricky matter to pin down exactly what must be affirmed about God to ensure that we’re actually talking about . . . well, God. But once we omit the notion of ultimacy or fundamentality and begin to talk about something dependent, derivative, or caused, we have lost successful reference to God. At that point, we are talking about something else entirely—something definitely not God.
If everything is right so far, then we have an argument that seems totally decisive. For it logically follows that God is not, and could not be, composite. This is just to say that God is simple: not made up of any parts, components, or constituents more basic than himself.
The final step to atheism here is simple. If we cannot affirm God without affirming that God is simple (or minimally, at least not denying that God is simple), then the moment we deny divine simplicity—deny that whatever is fundamental is absolutely and ontologically simple—we are, in fact, denying God altogether. And the denial of God altogether is atheism!
So, as annoying as it may be for non-classical theists (sometimes called theistic personalists, neo-classical theists, or—my preference—complex theists) to hear this, the logic is straightforward. A Chrisitan (or self-professed Christian) who denies divine simplicity is—sad to say—an atheist, even if he is unable to see it or simply unwilling to admit it. (To pull the polemics back a bit, we might say he is functionally—metaphysically—an atheist, even if not sociologically one.)
Let us now consider a way we might try to evade this argument. As with any argument, there are possible escape hatches, but here I will say the cost of attempted escape is enormous.
This approach is to attenuate the traditional notion of ultimacy—or, as the case may be, aseity. Someone might say that by calling God ultimate or a se, he simply means that God does not depend upon anything outside himself, even if he still depends on or derives from internal components.
This is a mess of a position, however, for several reasons. First, it’s contrived: a way to weasel out of the obvious. Second, it leaves God entirely brute—that is, with no further explanation of why or how God exists. (Note that simply saying God is necessary doesn’t actually explain why God exists or why God exists necessarily—especially if God is conceived as a composite entity whose existence is downstream of prior parts existing and being organized just so.) In particular, it fails to explain—because it cannot without circularity—why God has the components he does, or why and how they are organized and bound together in just the way they are.
Second, making this move hands the atheist an identical card to play: the atheist can now claim that his fundamental entity—nature, or evolution, or the Big Bang—is equally ultimate and a se. Yes, it may be composite and brute as well, but if the theist can posit brute, composite entities as the ultimate (pseudo-)explanatory stopper, then so can the atheist. From there, the atheist can even claim that his theory is overall simpler, since it avoids positing one further, highly complex entity. (Just think about it: if an atheist can so easily co-opt the notion of ultimacy or aseity being used by the theist, surely something has gone terribly wrong.)
Notice that the classical theist doesn’t face these problems. God is not brute, but has the reason for his existence in the fact that, given simplicity, God is identical to his existence (hence why God exists necessarily: God is not a composite, where an essence must be conjoined to an act of existence; God simply is his “to be”). Moreover, this reality can ultimately ground all composite entities and thus provide a more tightly unified and satisfying theory overall; all compositeness traces back to absolute simplicity—and complex theism cannot, for obvious reasons, offer such an account. It leaves compositeness as a bare brute fact. Finally, given simplicity, God requires no further explanation for why or how his “parts” exist or are organized in just the way they are—because God has no parts at all.
At the end of the day, I believe that the doctrine of divine simplicity is one of the most obvious truths about God. If one is committed to the notion of God at all, the very least he should be committed to is the idea that God is absolutely simple—just as so many great philosophers have held for so many centuries, from Plato to Plotinus, Aristotle to Aquinas.
What these intellectual titans well understood is that if God is really and truly God, there can be no markers—no indicators—of contingency, dependency, or derivation. Why? Because whatever else God is, he has always been taken to be the ultimate—the sole, the ultimate—reality. That, in turn, tells us that whatever else is true of God, he cannot be made up of, or built up from, anything more basic than himself. It tells us that God is simple—and, in being simple, supreme.

Atheism Is Complicated

There are two moments in the Gospels in which Jesus appears to downplay Mary’s importance in front of a crowd. One of them, from yesterday’s Gospel reading, is from Matthew 12:46-50. While Jesus is teaching, Mary and others of Jesus’ “<a href="https://www.catholic.com/qa/how-can-mary-be-a-perpetual-virgin-when-the-bible-says-jesus-had-brothers-and-sisters">brethren</a>” show up and ask to speak to him. “But he replied to the man who told him, ‘Who is my mother, and who are my brethren?’ And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brethren! For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother, and sister, and mother.’” On another instance, recounted in Luke 11:27-28, “a woman in the crowd raised her voice and said to him, ‘Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts that you sucked!’ But he said, ‘Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!’”
So what is going on here? Why does Jesus seem to be taking the opportunity to publicly minimize Mary’s holiness and even her maternity?
The answer is that there’s more here than meets the eye. Think about Luke 18:18-19, in which a ruler refers to Jesus as “Good Teacher,” and he replies, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” On the surface, Jesus seems to be denying his own divinity and goodness. But on closer inspection, he’s actually doing the opposite. Something similar is happening here: although Jesus at first seems to be knocking Mary down, his actual teaching shows Mary’s importance.
To see why this is, it’s important to remember the context. The first words from the mouth of Jesus in the Gospel of Mark are “the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:15). This theme of Christ’s “kingdom” is recurrent throughout his teaching. Those listening to Jesus would naturally think of King David, the greatest king in Israel’s history. And sure enough, we find Jesus heralded as
“Jesus, Son of David” (Luke 18:38). After all, God had promised David that a descendant of his would “build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom for ever” (2 Sam. 7:13). With Jesus, we find this everlasting kingdom brought into history.
But the thing about an earthly dynasty, even the House of David, is that it’s built upon ties of blood and marriage, not upon the prospective king’s qualifications. And so, although David was a great (but imperfect) ruler, his son and successor “Solomon did what was evil in the sight of the Lord, and did not wholly follow the Lord, as David his father had done” (1 Kings 11:6). The Davidic line goes <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/the-worst-king-of-israel-competition">dramatically downhill</a> from here until you have kings like Ahaz of Judah, who built idols to the pagan Baals and then “burned his sons as an offering” to them, “according to the abominable practices of the nations whom the Lord drove out before the people of Israel” (2 Chron. 28:2-3).
Jesus’ point in both Matthew 11 and Luke 12 isn’t to knock Mary down a peg. It’s to hammer home that, although Jesus is the fulfillment of God’s promise to the House of David, the kingdom of God isn’t going to go the way that Israel and Judah’s royal house went. Membership in this new dynasty is based not upon blood or marriage, but upon faith, so that “to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God” (John 1:12). That’s the point Jesus is making in Matthew 12: we are all invited into Jesus’ family, through faith. Slowly, Jesus’ followers will realize that this “all” includes even Samaritans and Gentiles, and that this new house “shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples” (Isa. 56:7).
But what does this mean about the role of Mary? Think back to Luke 11:27-28. The woman in the crowd was thinking along bloodlines when she cried out, “Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts that you sucked!” And so Jesus responds, “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!” In saying that, it might sound as though he were saying, “Mary is not blessed,” but that can’t be right. Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, had earlier proclaimed, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb!” (Luke 1:42). So Mary is blessed as the Mother of God. But the point here is that her blessedness isn’t because of bloodlines. Rather, it’s because of faith, which is why Elizabeth continued, “Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfilment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.”
And so Mary has a true maternity—not merely along bloodlines, but even more importantly, in faith. Part of what it means to enter the family of Jesus is that Mary becomes our mother, too, even though we’re non-relatives. Hanging upon the cross on Good Friday, “Jesus saw his mother, and the disciple whom he loved standing near, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, behold, your son!’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Behold, your mother!’ And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home” (John 19:26-27). This is more than simply ensuring that Mary has someone to look after her. Jesus is telling Mary to now think of the Beloved Disciple as her son, and for him to think of her as his mother . . . even though John’s biological mother is right there at Calvary (Matt. 27:56). Lest we think this was true only of the Beloved Disciple, and not of all beloved disciples, Revelation 12 depicts the Queen of Heaven as the mother of Jesus (Rev. 12:5) and says that “her offspring” are “those who keep the commandments of God and bear testimony to Jesus” (v. 17).
So it’s true that, in one sense, Jesus is putting Mary “in her place” in Matthew 12 and Luke 11. It just happens that her “place” is as his mother in faith, and as the mother of Christians. “Blessed is she who believed”!

Jesus Puts Mary in Her Place

<div>Does God have a perfect, predestined plan for my life? What about free will?</div><div>The short answer is yes. God does have a <a href="https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/predestination">predestined</a> plan for your life, but it involves your free will. The Catechism of the Catholic Church puts it succinctly:
<blockquote>To God, all moments of time are present in their immediacy. When therefore he establishes his eternal plan of “predestination,” he includes in it each person’s free response to his grace: “In this city, in fact, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles and the peoples of Israel, gathered together against your holy servant Jesus, whom you anointed, to do whatever your hand and your plan had predestined to take place.” For the sake of accomplishing his plan of salvation, God permitted the acts that flowed from their blindness (CCC 600; emphasis added).</blockquote>
For more information on how to square the doctrine of predestination and <a href="https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/free-will">free will,</a> see Predestination: The Meaning of Predestination in Scripture and the Church by Fr. Reginald Garrigou-LaGrange, O.P.
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How Does My Free Will Square with God’s Plan for My Life?

In the older version of today’s feast of Christ the King—and, to be clear, we’re not talking about a huge gap here, just between 1925 and 1970—the Gospel read is the Lord’s conversation with Pilate, before his Passion, about his kingship, which is “not of this world.” We get that in Year B. In Year A, we get the Matthew 25 warning about the sheep and the goats.
I point this out both because it is interesting and because it gives a little hint as to the multifaceted aspect of this feast. When Pope Pius XI instituted it, as a statement of sorts against modernism and, really, the full dissolution of Christendom after the First World War, it was a moment of asserting the enduring primacy of Christ’s lordship in the face of what was more and more the lack of substantial temporal power of the Church. That trend has continued.
When Paul VI moved the feast to the end of the liturgical year, he explicitly intended to enhance the eschatological emphasis, embedded here at the end of the Church year and the start of Advent, on the end of the world and the Second Coming. Between the three Gospels in the new cycle, we hear notes on Christ’s kingship as otherworldly mystery; as judgment on the powers of this world; and finally, today in Year C, as the truest kind of power.
Not that it’s up to me, but I think if I had to choose from among the three, I would choose this one. The most superficial reason for its inclusion is that small line showing the label atop the cross: “This is the King of the Jews.” But the deeper reason is that it is from the throne of the cross that Jesus shows the nature of his reign.
This is not what the soldiers who made the sign had in mind. The label was a mockery, a point of irony. Hardly anyone there at the scene could really imagine that this man was a king. He was <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/jesus-was-crucified-naked">stripped naked</a>, nailed on a cross for all to see, a sign of humiliation and suffering, the complete opposite of any power or authority.
This little detail about the sign, shared, with a little variance, in all four Gospels, is a remarkable sign of their authenticity. It is one of those many, many things that <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/jesus-heals-the-deaf-mute">would have been removed</a> had the Gospel writers, and those transmitting their work, been engaged in some sort of mass hysteria or conspiracy. In that strange fantasy, favored by the modern skeptic, where the apostles fabricate a set of narratives to support their idea of a God-man, surely this detail would have been removed. But it remains in all its shame.
Why? Because the attempted irony of the label veiled a profound truth—that this moment of weakness and suffering was, as Peter Kreeft puts it, “the most powerful thing anyone ever did,” because this act of weakness and vulnerability and pain was the only thing capable of defeating sin and death and hell.
The greatest power was this act of love. This act reflects the supernal love of the triune God in his own eternal being, for God’s power, the power that transcends all created being, has in it nothing of the grasping need of human and earthly power. God’s power is his goodness, and his goodness is his truth, and his truth is his being and his essence, and no situation in history, no bodily suffering, no matter how severe, can affect him in any way, change who he is and what he has chosen to do in his absolute and sovereign will.
This is the true form of kingship. Earthly forms can mimic, in small ways, the display of power and might and sovereign will. But these earthly forms will always be vulnerable in the way that the vulnerability of Christ is not. Kings and empires rise and fall; powers wax and wane. God remains God. And God remains man, in Jesus Christ.
Somehow the dying thief sees all this in a flash of clarity. While the crowd mocks the Lord’s kingship, he prays: “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.” But here again we receive a surprise, for the Lord’s kingdom is already come. “Today you will be with me in paradise.” The radical act of faith receives a radical act of acceptance and grace.
We should remember all of this scene when we encounter that strange monarchical tendency of our age, where powerful men and women are called “kings” and “queens.” No doubt it is sometimes good to celebrate strength and power, especially when that strength overcomes adversity for something good. But there is no true strength in worldly power. Many have noted the phenomenon of young men flocking to traditional Catholicism and Orthodoxy, drawn at least in part to a more robust and masculine expression of faith values than we find in mainstream American life. In many ways, I think this a good thing. But it is dangerous if it equates traditional Christianity with strength for its own sake; the strength and clarity of Christian doctrine is a weapon against vice and sin, not against unbelievers or our political enemies.
To ascend the thrones promised us as sons and daughters of the king means to ascend the cross. John Bergsma writes candidly, “We only rule from the cross in this life.” Or, as the Catechism puts it, quoting St. Ambrose, “That man is rightly called a king who makes his own body an obedient subject and, by governing himself with suitable rigor, refuses to let his passions breed rebellion in his soul, for he exercises a kind of royal power over himself” (908).
The other kingly figure in our Gospel, then, is once again the penitent thief. Kreeft makes this point rather sharply: “This man’s life was more successful, more glorious, more happy, more worth living than yours if at the point of your death you do not hear from Jesus Christ the words that he heard: ‘Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.’” The penitent thief knows at the end of his life that none of his striving meant anything if he could not end up a loyal subject of the true king. He saw on the cross strength veiled in weakness, but he also saw that his life could be worth something, finally, in the service of the king.
The sooner we come to that same conclusion and decision, the better—for this king is the only one who can reconcile us to God and to one another. He is the only one who can bring us to paradise.

A Cheap Imitation of a King

<div>Why did Peter order baptism of Cornelius’ household even though they had received the holy spirit?</div><div>The story of Cornelius and his family stands out because it is the only time that someone is recorded as receiving the Holy Spirit before baptism.
However it is important to note that the Church does not teach that God is bound by the sacraments (Catechism, 1257). God can impart his grace and the Holy Spirit upon whomever he chooses, whenever he chooses.
The fact that Peter chose to baptize Cornelius and his family is evidence of how serious the Apostles considered the reception of the sacraments to be. It would appear to me that Peter is performing the equivalent of the modern concept of a &#8220;conditional baptism.&#8221; There are times when it appears that an individual might very well have been validly baptized but there&#8217;s no definitive proof, at such times the priest would perform a conditional baptism to ensure the sacrament was properly received. Peter, it appears to me, is doing something similar. It is apparent to him that Cornelius has received the Holy Spirit but has not received the sacraments in an ordinary manner. Peter was &#8220;covering all the bases&#8221; and avoiding having to judge future claims of individuals having received the grace of God directly from God.
When confronted with unusual cases clergy often go the &#8220;safest route&#8221; to normalize the individual in the Church.
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Why Baptize Cornelius If He Already Received the Holy Spirit?

Tim Staples gives a crash course in <a href="https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/trinity">Trinitarian</a> theology for beginners, using one analogy to illustrate the idea of multiple relations in one being and another analogy to explain multiple beings with one nature.

How Can I Explain the Trinity to Someone Unfamiliar with Christianity?

“Do whatever he tells you.”
The wedding at Cana is the last of the <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/dont-forget-to-chalk-your-doors-for-epiphany">great three Epiphany miracles</a> following those we encountered over the last two weeks: the visitation of the magi and the baptism of the Lord in the Jordan. In all three we see a “showing” or a manifestation of the Lord’s identity, each at a different transition moment in his life: in the final days of the Holy Family’s stay in Bethlehem, in the Lord’s first public miracle in Galilee, and in the inauguration of his public ministry in Judea.
We should notice that the third event, what we read about today, is rather different in character from the other two. I think the traditional Benedictus antiphon for Epiphany helps us understand how: “Today the Church is joined to her heavenly Bridegroom; because in Jordan Christ hath washed away her offenses: the wise men with their offerings hasten to the royal marriage, and the guests are regaled with water made wine, alleluia.” In her liturgical imagination, Holy Church actually reads both the visitation of the magi and the baptism through the lens of the wedding at Cana. In the baptism, Christ <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/jesus-greets-the-water">prepares the sacraments</a> that give life to his bride. In the magi, the gifts signify the Bridegroom’s identity. In the wedding, the water made wine reveals God’s lavish and excessive love for his beloved.
In the Incarnation, the prophet’s promise comes true:
<blockquote>For as a young man marries a virgin,
so shall your sons marry you, 
and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, 
so shall your God rejoice over you.</blockquote>
God’s love for us, transforming his people from “forsaken” and “desolate” to “delight,” is utterly unnecessary and gratuitous. We did not earn it. We cannot really requite it. We are often unworthy of it and reject it and scorn it, turning our back on God’s gifts and seeking other relationships. Yet God’s faithfulness transcends ours. The Incarnation itself is the ultimate act of divine love. St. Bernard of Clairvaux, in his sermons on the Song of Songs, meditates first on that opening line: “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth.” For Bernard, this intimacy-wrapped-within-intimacy can only mean the union of divine and human natures in Christ: the Word which comes from the eternal Father himself inhabits our nature, making it his own. It is an embrace that the intimacy of the marital embrace can only ecstatically mimic.
The nuptial mystery does mirror the divine mystery somehow. It can be hard to see it, perhaps, when you’re in the midst of raising children and paying the bills, or when you notice that <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/be-a-divorce-first-responder">divorce rates</a> among Catholics are basically those of society at large, or when you <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/stop-complaining-about-your-spouse">long for marital bliss</a> but find it constantly out of reach. Our marriage rite speaks of matrimony as “instituted of God himself, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his church; which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence, and first miracle that he wrought, in Cana of Galilee.” Adorned and beautified. Further sacramentalized, you might say. But there were marriage and its meaning long before there were the sacraments of the New Covenant. It is, indeed, something like the original sacrament, the original sign that means something more than the sum of its parts, for here embedded in the most basic unit of human society is a sign of the whole purpose of humanity’s existence: God’s delight in his beloved, and his desire that this delight bear fruit: further life, further joy, further goodness. Marriage is the sacrament not just of Christ’s love for his Church, but of God’s creativity and goodness in creating the world.
Our consistent failures to live up to this vocation don’t change what the vocation is. And anyway, Jesus turns water into wine.
We could note here in passing the obvious eucharistic resonance of transformation from one thing to another. If I might make a brief apologetic comment on Catholic belief in the Eucharist vis-à-vis various objections: I am not aware of anyone in the Protestant world who believes that John’s account of the water into wine is “just a symbol.” It is, of course, a powerful symbol, but it is also a change in reality, one noted by everyone present.
But this miracle is about more than a foreshadowing of the Eucharist. Or rather, I should say, it is pre-eminently a foreshadowing of the Eucharist, because it shows not just how bread and wine might become body and blood, but how the elements of nature, and the work of human hands, often the signs of our failed stewardship, our failed lordship, our scarcity, and our sin, can be changed by the divine Word into the things that bring us closer to him. This Bridegroom will dismantle every obstacle between him and his bride, turning each into a kiss, a flower, an offering of devotion and affection.
“Do whatever he tells you.”
What an incredible statement of faith is contained in that little command from Mary—the final words, by the way, attributed to her in Scripture. She is at the center of this drama, somehow. On a macro level, it’s worth pointing out that we probably have this story mainly through her. There were, no doubt, many witnesses, but it’s telling that it is only John, of the four Evangelists, who tells it, because it is he who becomes the guardian of Our Lady after <a href="https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/good-friday-the-whole-world-should-be-catholic">Good Friday</a>. So I wonder if we have this story partly because she thought it was important for us to have it. She saw here something more than just another miracle, more even than just the miracle that happened to be “first” for most observers.
We should neither overemphasize nor understate the Marian tone to the event: though the miracle is our Lord’s, he clearly does it as a favor to Our Lady. It is not that his wisdom is insufficient and that he must be guided. It is rather that he then, as now, somehow entrusts us to her. Those of us who have followed St. Louis de Montfort’s concept of “total consecration” to Mary understand this as a fundamental principle of the Christian life: the first and most simple, childlike way to imitate Jesus is to place ourselves in the care of the Blessed Mother.
But why, again, might she think it so important to show us this? She does not draw attention to herself. “Do whatever he tells you.” That is the supreme criterion of all authentic Mariology. I think there is a subtle point that reiterates the basic theme already present in the water-made-wine itself, and it is this: he acts not out of necessity, but out of love.
In other words, it wasn’t necessary for him to change the water into wine in the same way that we might say it was necessary for him to enter the Jordan, or to die on the cross. We could quibble about what “necessity” means in both of those cases, but the tradition is comfortable with the language. The “necessity” of various things in salvation history is always couched in the utter non-necessity of creation. In no way was it necessary for the Lord to bless the marriage at Cana with his presence, to provide an excessive amount of the finest wine after all the other had run out. It was not necessary to grant his mother a favor. But he did these things out of love—for his mother, for his friends, and for us.
When she tells us, “Do whatever he tells you,” it is not an imperious command with an implicit “Or else!” It is an invitation to accept the gracious burden of God’s love, which is true freedom, to “taste and see” the goodness of the Lord. He delights in us, even when we run away. Unlike a human parent, or a human spouse, he has no self-interest or hidden motive; it is only love. And his love is the only thing in this world that does not run out.