I’ve long thought that Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI has never received full (if any) credit for something that shines through in his many splendid writings: a keen, dry sense of…
I’ve long thought that Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI has never received full (if any) credit for something that shines through in his many splendid writings: a keen, dry sense of humor.
One of my favorite examples is found in his first “Jesus of Nazareth” book (Doubleday, 2007) in the chapter on the temptations of Jesus. Remarking on the second temptation proffered by the devil to Jesus, Pope Benedict notes how the devil “cites Holy Scripture in order to lure Jesus into his trap.” He points out that the “devil proves to be a Bible expert who can quote the Psalm exactly,” and then wryly observes, “The whole conversation of the second temptation takes the form of a dispute between two Bible scholars.” What a great image!
Rather unexpectly, he refers to the short story “The Antichrist” by the Russian philosopher Vladimir Soloviev, which describes the Antichrist receiving an honorary degree in theology from the University of Tübingen and being “a great Scripture scholar.” Readers familiar with Pope Benedict’s personal history know that in 1966, after serving as a theological expert at the Second Vatican Council, then-Father Joseph Ratzinger accepted a position teaching theology at Tübingen — the epicenter of the historical-critical movement of the 19th century. Historical criticism is an approach to studying Scripture with roots in the Protestant Reformation that emerged in full force in the 17th and 18th centuries; it uses various scholarly and scientific tools (source criticism, form criticism, redaction criticism, etc.) to ascertain the original, or “primitive,” meaning of an ancient text — especially biblical texts. Father Ratzinger, then, was well acquainted with scholars who used historical-critical methods. He also knows how many scholars used these methods to undermine, question and even directly attack Christianity. “The alleged findings of scholarly exegesis,” he wrote, “have been used to put together the most dreadful books that destroy the figure of Jesus and dismantle the faith.”
For example, in 1835, the polemical liberal Protestant writer David Strauss (1808-74), drawing upon the Tübingen school’s work, wrote Das Leben Jesu, kritisch bearbeitet(“The Life of Jesus, Critically Examined”), the most influential “life of Jesus” of the 19th century. He presented Jesus as a fanatical Jewish preacher with delusions of messianic grandeur and insisted the Gospels were mostly legend and folklore. The influence of his bare-bones story of an itinerate preacher who proclaimed the Kingdom can be seen in the work of the modern-day Jesus Seminar, which has rejected as unhistorical or wildly exaggerated nearly every narrative in the Gospels.
Pope Benedict gets right to the heart of the matter: “The common practice today is to measure the Bible against the so-called modern worldview, whose fundamental dogma is that God cannot act in history — that everything to do with God is to be relegated to the domain of subjectivity.”
A perfect poster theologian for this dogmatic subjectivity is the former episcopal bishop John Shelby Spong, who has authored numerous books explaining that nothing in the Gospels can be taken literally or at face value, and that Protestant and Catholic understandings of God as Triune are “heretical.” For Spong, echoing Strauss, everything is about subjective, mystical experience. Oddly enough, this doesn’t stop him from uttering endless judgments on orthodox Christianity with an authoritative arrogance that would make a pope cringe in shame. Spong insists that orthodox Christianity is, in fact, “fundamentalist.” I don’t know if Pope Benedict has read Spong, but he does state that the Antichrist, “with an air of scholarly excellence, tells us that any exegesis that reads the Bible from the perspective of faith in the living God, in order to listen to what God has to say, is fundamentalism.” This entire dispute over interpreting Scripture, he notes, is really “about who God is.” Scholarship is a good thing, of course, but reason without humble faith in the living God can lead to serious error, or ruin. After all, the devil is a Bible scholar — and “he is a liar and the father of lies” (Jn 8:44).
Carl E. Olson is the editor of Ignatius Insight (www.ignatiusinsight.com). He and his family live in Eugene, Ore.
Any Catholic who spends time reading popular atheist literature will soon encounter the claim that the Gospels are works of myth and legend, devoid of much or any historical fact….
Any Catholic who spends time reading popular atheist literature will soon encounter the claim that the Gospels are works of myth and legend, devoid of much or any historical fact.
One of my favorite examples of this popular — that is, both non-scholarly and widespread — atheist ignorance comes from a filmmaker, Brian Flemming, who recently produced a documentary titled “The God Who Wasn’t There.” The documentary, he explained, is to show that the “biblical Jesus” is a myth, created whole cloth by superstitious, unlearned early Christians. Asked to summarize the evidence for his stance, Flemming said: “It’s more a matter of demonstrating a positive than a negative, and the positive is that early Christians appeared not to have believed in a historical Jesus. If the very first Christians appear to believe in a mythical Christ, and only later did ‘historical’ details get added bit by bit, that is not consistent with the real man actually existing. … I would say that he is a myth in the same way that many other characters people believed actually existed. Like William Tell is most likely a myth…. Of course, [Jesus] is a very important myth.”
“All I’m saying,” Flemming added, “is that [Jesus] doesn’t exist, and it would be a healthy thing for Christians to look at the Bible as a work of fiction from which they can take inspiration rather than, you know, the authoritative word of God.”
Actually, it would be helpful and healthy if skeptics like Flemming would put in the time and effort demanded by the evidence. As examples of such efforts, I’ll mention just three recent, impressive works: “Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony,” by Richard Bauckham (Eerdmans, 2006); “The Resurrection of Jesus: A New Historiographical Approach,” by Michael R. Licona (InterVarsity, 2010); and “The Historical Jesus of the Gospels,” by Craig S. Keener (Eerdmans, 2012). These detailed, lengthy works highlight three basic facts.
First, the Gospels were written by men who knew the difference between myth and historical fact. The author of the Second Letter of Peter makes this abundantly clear: “We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty” (1:16). The opening verses of Luke’s Gospel shows that Luke sought “to compile a narrative of the events that have been fulfilled among us,” so that “you may realize the certainty of the teachings you have received” (Lk 1:1-4). Thus the Gospels and other New Testament texts include numerous references to secular rulers (Caesar Augustus, Pontius Pilate, Herod, et al.), as well as Jewish leaders (Caiaphas, Ananias) — names unlikely to be used inaccurately or even show up in a “myth.” As such, the historical content of these works should be judged not against mythologies, but against other first-century works of history.
Second, the Gospels are a combination of biography and history following the structure and approach taken by Greek and Roman authors to the same literary genres. The German historian Martin Hengel wrote that Luke was “a historian and theologian who needs to be taken seriously. His account always remains within the limits of what was considered reliable by the standards of antiquity.” As Keener shows, ancient historians — including the Gospel writers — had high standards for accuracy, even if they didn’t always employ the same techniques as modern historians. For example, ancient historians sometimes changed chronologies, or presented their works in a topical, not chronological, manner.
Third, the uniqueness of the Gospels has less to do with the literary form and much more to do with the radical identity of Jesus Christ. And this, really, is the ultimate point of conflict. Atheists begin with the philosophical assumption that there can be no divine intervention in history. Thus the Gospels must be myth. Christian historians, however, while acknowledging their belief in God, are willing to begin by examining the Gospels as historical texts, and then follow the evidence where it leads. In doing so, they are being truly open-minded.
Carl E. Olson is the editor of Ignatius Insight. He and his family live in Eugene, Ore.
I recently perused a book with an eye-catching title: “God Revised: How Religion Must Evolve in a Scientific Age” (Palgrave Macmillan, 2013). The author, Galen Guengerich, is a Unitarian pastor…
I recently perused a book with an eye-catching title: “God Revised: How Religion Must Evolve in a Scientific Age” (Palgrave Macmillan, 2013).
The author, Galen Guengerich, is a Unitarian pastor who claims to have found a balanced, middle ground between atheism and fundamentalism. However, the theological musings in the book are about as deep as a mud puddle in Death Valley, and the history isn’t much better. At one point, Guengerich asserts, “It took five hundred years for the Roman Catholic Church to forgive Nicolaus Copernicus for looking into the night sky and reporting what he saw.”
Since Copernicus died in 1543 — less than 500 years ago — that’s quite a claim. At least Guengerich exhibited more restraint than Dan Brown did in his novel “Angels & Demons” (Pocket Books, 2000), in which one of the good guys observes: “Outspoken scientists like Copernicus … [were] murdered by the church for revealing scientific truths. Religion has always persecuted science.” However, Guengerich does insist that Galileo was “tortured,” which is only accurate if he means Galileo endured having some of his theories rejected because he could not muster the necessary proofs for them. Copernicus, by the way, died an old man, in the good graces of the Church, in which he served as a canon lawyer.
Science, it turns out, is a convenient stick for many of those who dislike and wish to dismiss the Church. The famous, misunderstood case of Galileo has long been the centerpiece exhibit for those claiming, as Brown’s character does, that religion hates science. Yet Galileo was a devout (if rather arrogant) Catholic who enjoyed support by many in the Vatican, and his essential problems were hubris and impatience.
The atheist Neil deGrasse Tyson, host of the new version of the television series “Cosmos,” relies less on Galileo and more on another supposed scientific hero, Giordano Bruno (1548-1600), a Dominican friar and mathematician who was executed by the Roman Inquisition. It sounds like a slam dunk, and deGrasse Tyson spends a good chunk of time working the apparently fallow ground. But, as the Jesuit philosopher and educator Father Robert Spitzer has noted, the Dominican’s trial “had very little to do with Bruno’s beliefs about heliocentrism or scientific method; he was, after all, following Copernicus.” In fact, Bruno’s trial “centered on five theological heresies: his pantheism, denial of the Trinity, denial of the divinity of Christ, denial of transubstantiation, and denial of the Virgin Birth.” We may understandably lament execution for heresy, but we must keep in mind there were many actions punishable by execution in the 1600s.
More to the point, Bruno was not a martyr for science. Yet the myth of the “scientific revolution” eventually overcoming the Dark Ages is a popular and dramatic one, with roots in both Enlightenment-era works intent on undermining the Church, and Protestant “histories” devoted to portraying Catholicism as a crude, superstitious religion with no connection to true, pure Christianity.
In his new book, “How the West Won: The Neglected Story of the Triumph of Modernity” (ISI Books, 2014), sociologist and historian Rodney Stark (who is Lutheran), debunks this nonsense. “Just as there was no ‘Dark Ages,’” he writes, “there was no ‘Scientific Revolution.’ Rather, the notion of a Scientific Revolution was invented to discredit the medieval Church by claiming that science burst forth in full bloom (thus owing no debts to prior Scholastic scholars) only when a weakened Christianity no longer could suppress it.”
Stark focuses on 14 philosophers and scientists (there are more, of course), beginning with Robert Grosseteste (c. 1168-1253), an English bishop described by one historian as “the real founder of the tradition of scientific thought in medieval Oxford,” and concluding with Copernicus. None, he notes, were “rebel secularists” — all were devout Christians and “they all were priests or monks — even bishops and cardinals.” And all of them were educated in Scholastic universities.
Carl E. Olson is the editor of Ignatius Insight (www.ignatiusinsight.com). He and his family live in Eugene, Ore.
The news stories are so commonplace in recent years I could write one in my sleep if asked… An elderly lady, perhaps a former nun, is going to be “ordained”…
The news stories are so commonplace in recent years I could write one in my sleep if asked…
An elderly lady, perhaps a former nun, is going to be “ordained” a “Catholic priest,” citing her lifelong desire while denouncing the prejudice and bigotry of “the Vatican” for saying women cannot, in fact, be ordained priests. The details vary, the essential appeals to sentiment, modernity and equality do not. Explaining the Church’s teaching about priestly ordination is difficult because supporters of women’s ordination begin with premises different from those of the Church and often in direct opposition to them. Yet those assumptions are also widespread in the dominant culture.
The Church insists she must follow the example given by Jesus Christ, who specifically selected 12 men to be His apostles. That decision was not arbitrary, nor was it directed by cultural norms or societal pressures. While women were not allowed to be priests within the Jewish religion, it was also the case that Jesus’ approach to women taking part in His ministry was unusual. Yet He chose men only to be apostles, and those apostles then chose men to be bishops and priests. Thus apostolic succession has followed the same criteria for 2,000 years.
There is an essential matter of humility and obedience for Catholics when it comes to women’s ordination. The prevalent belief among those who push for such ordination is, when push comes to shove, that the authority of Christ and His Church should submit itself to the authority of current notions about women’s rights and equality between the sexes. Some liken the Church’s supposed “sexism” to racism. Yet Christ never founded a doctrine on race or ethnicity; more importantly, the underlying assumption is that the Incarnate Word, the Second Person of the Trinity, somehow made a mistake — that is, He was not, in fact, expressing divine wisdom. The issue, in sum, is very much one of faith.
In addition, the ordained priesthood is viewed by many as a profession, or a position of temporal power. They fail to recognize, as Orthodox theologian and bishop Kallistos Ware has insightfully observed, these three intertwined truths: just One is one priest; all are priests; and only some are priests. In other words, Jesus alone is the high priest of the New Covenant. All those who are baptized form a “royal priesthood” (1 Pt 2:9) and share in a “common priesthood” (see Catechism of the Catholic Church, Nos. 1141-1143, 1546-1547). And the ordained, or ministerial, priesthood is at the service of the common priesthood of the faithful, and is conferred on certain men who receive the Sacrament of Holy Orders.
While the common priesthood is a real sharing in the work of Christ, especially through growth in holiness, the ministerial priesthood partakes in the work of Christ in a unique way, and only a priest, who acts in persona Christi (“in the person of Christ”), is able to celebrate Mass, consecrate the Eucharist and hear confessions. He is a “sign,” or “icon,” of Christ, and “his priesthood exists solely,” as Bishop Ware states, “in order to make Christ present.” Such a sacred sign must be readily understood and perceptible; a female priest would cause confusion and make light of the fact that Christ was, is and always will be a man.
Finally, the Church believes — contrary to faddish trends — that men and women are truly different and complimentary. There is a covenantal, nuptial reality built into creation, reflected in God’s covenants with humanity. In the Old Testament, God is described as a husband married to His chosen people. In Ephesians, Christ is described as the groom and the Church as His bride (see 5:21-32). The entire Church is feminine in character, responsive to her head and groom. The 1976 document Inter Insigniores (from the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith) pointed out that no one — including a man — has a “right” to the priesthood; the priesthood “stems from the economy of the mystery of Christ and the Church.” The priesthood is not a pawn in social experiments or political conflicts. Besides, that document emphasized, the “greatest in the kingdom of heaven are not the ministers but the saints.”
Carl E. Olson is the editor of Ignatius Insight (www.ignatiusinsight.com). He and his family live in Eugene, Ore.
When you think of Lent, what comes to mind? I think it is safe to say many of us immediately think of giving up something. And that “something” usually involves…
When you think of Lent, what comes to mind?
I think it is safe to say many of us immediately think of giving up something. And that “something” usually involves food, which is in keeping with the emphasis on fasting during the Lenten season. But we all know fasting is just one of three acts we are called to focus on during Lent. “In the Lenten period,” said Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI in his 2008 Lenten message, “the Church makes it her duty to propose some specific tasks that accompany the faithful concretely in this process of interior renewal: these are prayer, fasting and almsgiving.”
Each of these involve some sort of giving. In fasting, we give up certain foods. In almsgiving, we give money and aid to those who are in need. But what about prayer? What are we giving when we pray?
St. Paul, in his first letter to the Thessalonians, exhorted his readers: “Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thes 5:17-18; cf. Eph 5:20). The Catechism of the Catholic Church says, “‘we have not been commanded to work, to keep watch and to fast constantly, but it has been laid down that we are to pray without ceasing.’ This tireless fervor can come only from love. Against our dullness and laziness, the battle of prayer is that of humble, trusting, and persevering love” (No. 2742). Lent is a journey in love, and prayer is an essential part of both that journey and that growth in love.
The journey of Lent is a pilgrimage toward the profound and joyful mystery of the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. That journey begins in the wilderness. As the catechism says, “By the solemn forty days of Lent the Church unites herself each year to the mystery of Jesus in the desert” (No. 540). As Pope Benedict stated in his first Lenten message in 2006: “Lent is a privileged time of interior pilgrimage toward Him who is the fount of mercy. It is a pilgrimage in which He himself accompanies us through the desert of our poverty, sustaining us on our way toward the intense joy of Easter.”
With this in mind, what follows is a Scripture-focused guide to praying during Lent. It is meant for personal reflection and prayer, and to accompany the public, communal and liturgical prayers of the Church, all of which are ultimately focused upon and find their deepest meaning in the Eucharist: “the source and summit of the Christian life” (CCC, No. 1324). Key themes and ideas from each week of Lent are given, drawn from the Mass readings, and a particular focus is given to the “Our Father,” for it “‘is truly the summary of the whole gospel,’ the ‘most perfect of prayers.’ It is at the center of the Scriptures” (CCC, No. 2774). In addition, each section contains a prayer selected from Church tradition that can be prayed during that specific week.
Carl E. Olson is the editor of Catholic World Report.
See the full version of the Lenten calendar here.
This article originally appeared in Our Sunday Visitor.