Tag: Church Teaching

4 min read

Church Teaching

What is theology?

Father Harrison Ayre

April 28, 2022 7:40 am April 28, 2022

4 min read

6693 views

Comments Off

4 min read

This is the first in a seven-part “Introduction to Theology” series from Simply Catholic. Read the entire series here. Often people look at theology as an academic discipline in which…

This is the first in a seven-part “Introduction to Theology” series from Simply Catholic. Read the entire series here.

Often people look at theology as an academic discipline in which people talk about subtle nuances that have little to do with Christian living. Then there are those outside of Christianity who question it as a discipline at all because faith, in the eyes of many, is unreasonable.

But theology is a proper field of study, and one with an ancient tradition. Scripture itself is not only a source of revelation but is a type of theological work. And St. John Henry Newman, in his “The Idea of a University,” presents theology as the hub of all the sciences, because God is at the center of all creation.

What, then, is theology?

Theology is rooted in two Greek words: Theos, meaning God, and logos, meaning reason. Theology is using our reason to study and know more about God and how he has shown himself to the world. There is a discipline known as “natural theology,” whereby we are able to study certain truths about God, including the fact that he has created the world and the fact that God exists. As St. Paul makes clear that God’s existence is revealed through his creation, the truth of natural theology is knowable by reason alone. “Christian theology” is when we use our reason to study and know more about God and how he has shown himself to the world. The object of study is God and his revelation, including how he had revealed himself to Israel and in the definitive revelation in his Son, Jesus Christ, which is especially manifested in Scripture and Tradition. Theology often goes further than this by applying what we know about revelation to new topics and social phenomena. In short, because God touches every facet of our existence, theology deals with the whole of life.

Theology, then, is not a discipline reserved to academics, though the academic realm is absolutely vital to theological knowledge and development. Instead, Jesus redeemed the whole of man, including our brains. In return, he desires that we use them. More importantly, by growing in our knowledge about the Faith through theological study, we grow in love for Jesus Christ. If we love him, we want to know everything we can about him, because love wants to know. By studying and reflecting with our mind on the content of faith, we also fulfill St. Peter’s command: “Always be prepared to give a reason for the hope that is within you” (1 Pet 3:15).

As theology attempts to understand God, it must avoid two equally dangerous extremes: rationalism and fideism. Rationalism says we can know everything by reason alone and do not need revelation or faith to know about God. Fideism says that we do not need to learn and grow in our knowledge of God — rather, that it is just enough to believe. According to the Church’s tradition, both of these approaches are heresies.

Theology makes clear how we need the grace of faith in order to enlighten our minds so that we can come to know God more deeply. In fact, it is by the gift of faith, given through baptism, that we gain access to the very life of God. We can know some basic things about God: that he exists, that he is one, infinite, omnipotent, etc. But to know that God is Trinity is something reason cannot reach on its own. In order for reason to be open to this mystery, it needs the aid of faith and revelation.

Theology, then, is really an exercise of faith and reason at the same time. As such, we can see how we must be open to God and his revelation and receive what he has revealed in humility so that God can be heard. By hearing God speak, we then take time, like Mary, to ponder these things in our hearts so that we may be able to understand the meaning and substance of the words and events of salvation history, Scripture, Tradition and revelation. This is an act of theologizing. And this rational reflection — of asking questions, of wanting to probe the mysteries of faith — is by no means a worthless exercise. It is, in fact, the highest and most important thing we can do, because it is an act of contemplation that builds up our communion with God and with one other.

Father Harrison Ayre is a priest of the Diocese of Victoria, British Columbia. Follow him on Twitter at @FrHarrison.

Comments Off

6 min read

Scripture

What We Believe, Part 18: The Church in the Spirit

Father Joshua J. Whitfield

March 28, 2022 11:47 pm March 28, 2022

6 min read

980 views

Comments Off

6 min read

The Church is a sacrament because it is in Christ. But also because it is in the Spirit. As we saw earlier, Lumen Gentium wastes no time describing the theological…

The Church is a sacrament because it is in Christ. But also because it is in the Spirit. As we saw earlier, Lumen Gentium wastes no time describing the theological nature of the Church, that it is in Christ like a sacrament, a sign and instrument. However, there’s more to be said.

To be in Christ, as we’ve seen, is to belong to God’s saving work, to belong to the history of salvation, so to speak. And it’s by that history — as told in Scripture and rehearsed in Lumen Gentium — that we are able to describe further the theological reality of our own experience as believers, the reality of the Holy Spirit dwelling within us.

Lumen Gentium puts it this way: “When the work which the Father gave the Son to do on earth was accomplished, the Holy Spirit was sent on the day of Pentecost in order that He might continually sanctify the Church, and thus, all those who believe would have access through Christ in one Spirit to the Father. He is the Spirit of Life, a fountain of water springing up to life eternal. To men, dead in sin, the Father gives life through Him, until, in Christ, He brings to life their mortal bodies” (LG 4). This, of course, is simply a rehearsal of Scripture, echoing the story of Pentecost (Acts 2:1-3), Jesus’s teaching in the John’s Gospel (Jn 4:14; 7:37-38), and Pauline teaching (Eph 2:18; Rom 8:10-11).

What’s remarkable, however, is Lumen Gentium’s claim that this rehearsed biblical story remains ongoing in us, in the Church. The Spirit given at Pentecost still dwells within in us, “continually” sanctifying the Church. That is, the Holy Spirit knows no ascension. And thus, as Lumen Gentium continues, “The Spirit dwells in the Church and in the hearts of the faithful, as in a temple.” And what the Spirit does is guide the Church (as Jesus said in Jn 16:13) in “the way of all truth,” continually restoring the Church in the “freshness of youth,” drawing the Church ever nearer its Spouse, the risen Bridegroom Jesus Christ (LG 4). The Spirit keeps the Church oriented toward its final heavenly goal, the heavenly Jerusalem; the Spirit keeps the Church aflame with desire for its final union, expressed in the final prayer of the New Testament — “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” (Rev 22:20).

But notice how the Spirit accomplishes this renewing, orienting work in the Church — “in communion and in works of ministry.” Lumen Gentium teaches that the Spirit “equips and directs” the Church with “hierarchical and charismatic gifts,” which he adorns with his “fruits” (LG 4). That is, we believe that the Spirit enlivens the Church both in its visible structures and ministries as well as in the hearts of all believers being sanctified. We believe the Holy Spirit is given assuredly and always to the Church’s hierarchical structure, to its clergy — bishops, priests and deacons. We believe, therefore, that our polity, our clerical structure, is divinely given. This will be explored further when considering the sacrament of Holy Orders and the papacy; suffice it to say at this point, though, that this is a fundamental claim — that the Church’s hierarchical structure of bishops, priests and deacons, a structure that belongs essentially to the mission of God and to the organic nature of the Church, cannot replaced. This claim is distinctly Catholic, shared though by the Orthodox Churches and even some Protestant traditions. This is why in Catholicism you’ll never see things like “executive pastors” or any other different forms of ecclesiastical organization, no matter how more efficient those different structures may be. It’s also why arguments surrounding leadership and hierarchy in Catholicism get so theological so quickly. Because we believe that even the visible structures of the Church belong to its nature as sacrament, enlivened by the Holy Spirit “continually.”

But, of course, one mustn’t think the Holy Spirit dwells among and enlivens only the hierarchy of the Church. Even though that may sometimes seem to be the case, it never is; about that, the Church’s teaching has always been clear. Charismatic gifts belong to whomever the Spirit wills, to all the holy. The presence of the Spirit in the Church — present not just in the hierarchy but in all the saints — guarantees God’s sovereignty over the Church. The Holy Spirit dwells in all God’s people, not just clergy. In the faithful nun or monk. In the faithful parent. In the old lady, warrior at prayer, praying her rosary before Mass, who scares you a little. And it’s that spiritual fact — the fact of Pentecost — that makes for the joy and suffering, the tension, conflict and creativity of the Church. It’s what makes the Church so beautiful and sometimes so strange, giving the Church “the freshness of youth.” It’s also why one shouldn’t put too much store in polls or surveys suggesting the demise of the Church; such headlines make the rounds from time to time as if on schedule. Important though they may be, of course, they are no cause for despair. And that’s because the Holy Spirit remains — always has and always will — sustaining the Church “uninterruptedly” (LG 4).

And finally, it helps to recall for what purpose we believers live in the Church in Christ in the Spirit — so that we may be formed individually and together into Christ, “redeemed” and “re-molded into a new creation,” Lumen Gentium teaches, echoing St. Paul (LG 7; 2 Cor 5:17). That’s what the Holy Spirit, continually dwelling in the Church, does: he builds up the body of Christ, in the unity of faith and in knowledge of the Son, into the full stature of Christ (Eph 4:12-13). This is nothing other than the mission for glory for which Jesus prayed in John 17; it’s just now we see more clearly how this mission for glory is also the Church and its mission — calling in Christ by the Spirit all believers, sisters and brothers “together from all nations, mystically the components of His own Body” (LG 7). This thing we call the Catholic Church of Jesus Christ.

Father Joshua J. Whitfield is pastor of St. Rita Catholic Community in Dallas and author of “The Crisis of Bad Preaching” (Ave Maria Press, $17.95) and other books. Read more from the series here.

Comments Off

6 min read

Church Teaching

Why Is Canon Law Needed?

Edward Peters

February 16, 2022 8:00 am February 16, 2022

6 min read

12000 views

Comments Off

6 min read

Growing up American means growing up aware of how deeply society is influenced by laws. We know, without even having to think about it, that law has something to say…

Growing up American means growing up aware of how deeply society is influenced by laws. We know, without even having to think about it, that law has something to say about almost everything we do.

As children we’re taught about the various branches of government — legislative, executive, judicial — that pass, enforce and interpret the laws at various levels — federal, state and local. So we recognize how important it is to understand the different rules and regulations that affect so many daily activities.

Most of the time, of course, we carry on our activities without consciously thinking about how many laws impact us. We can do this, in part, because most of the civil laws we live under make sense and contribute to the smooth operation of society.

But in the back of our mind, especially when something goes significantly wrong, we are aware that, to one degree or another, civil law might have something to say. And we have at least a basic idea of where to turn for help in learning more about legal issues.

The Law of the Church

Growing up Catholic, on the other hand, means growing up with almost no appreciation of how extensively canon law, the internal legal system of the Catholic Church, affects our daily life of faith. It means not knowing that canon law lies behind many things that we as Catholics take for granted. And it means not knowing that, in too many cases, important ecclesiastical rights and obligations might be going unrecognized in our lives.

Occasionally a canon law issue comes directly into our personal world, as might happen, say, in an annulment case. Or canon law may gain our attention when it makes the headlines, as might happen, say, when a public figure is excommunicated.

But even then, most Catholics don’t realize that what they see is only a small part of a complete legal system, a legal system that goes back to the ancient Church — in short, a legal system about which they might want to, and need to, know more.

Like every large and complex society, the Catholic Church long ago discovered that reasonable, written rules were important for the smooth functioning of the disparate people and projects being under-taken in so many different lands and conditions. Over the centuries, the accumulated pastoral and administrative wisdom of Church leaders was recorded, organized, tested and commented upon by legal experts.

Over time, however, these collections of regulations and “canons,” as they were called to distinguish them from civil laws, became increasingly hard to use. (The word canon comes from a Greek term meaning “a rule.”) Rules that made sense in one context were sometimes mistakenly applied in other contexts. Norms that worked at one time in history might be misapplied in other historical periods.

Integrated Codes

To remedy these problems, in 1917 the Catholic Church published its first integrated Code of Canon Law. At last, in one place, clear provisions on the work of priests and bishops, administration of Church property, celebration of sacraments, issues in education and so on were set forth (albeit in Latin!) for the consultation of anyone in the Church.

This Pio-Benedictine Code (so-called because of the two pontiffs, Popes Pius X and Benedict XV, involved in its creation and promulgation) was immediately hailed as a juridical and pastoral work of genius.

But while Roman (Latin-rite) Catholics benefited enormously by having a single Code of Canon Law, Eastern Catholics still did not have their own code (although work toward one had been going on for several decades).

Moreover, as the 20th century unfolded, it became increasingly clear that many of the canons in the 1917 code would need updating. This became quite apparent after the Second Vatican Council, which helped the Church confront better an increasingly secular civil society.

After a long, worldwide consultation process, Pope John Paul II promulgated, in 1983, a revised Code of Canon Law for the Roman Catholic Church, and in 1990 he issued the Code of Canons of the Eastern Churches. These two documents, both of which are available in modern language translations, represent the primary current legislation of the Catholic Church.

Looking only at the 1983 code, its 1,752 canons are spread over seven chapters, or “books.” Book I offers general canonical definitions and sets out the ground rules for applying law in the Church. Book II presents the basic rights and obligations of various persons in the Church.

Book III contains the norms that apply to the Church’s teaching ministry. Book IV gives the most important rules on sacraments (though there are not as many rules on liturgy in the code as some might think).

Book V regulates Church property. Book VI deals with ecclesiastical offenses and penalties. And, finally, Book VII is a procedural book with rules for canonical trials.

Yes, you read that last line correctly: The Catholic Church conducts legal trials in courts (called tribunals), which in turn play an important role in the canonical system. For that matter, canon law has lawyers (called advocates), law schools to train its specialists (called pontifical faculties), law reviews and commentaries, and indeed, in one way or another, just about everything that we might expect to find in a modern legal system.

Civil Law vs. Canon Law

There are, however, some important differences between canon law and civil law. For starters, canon law does not take its “marching orders” from secular or political concerns, but rather from the theological principles of the Catholic Church.

Canon law, moreover, approaches many technical legal issues in a way that more resembles the “continental law” or “civil law” legal tradition. This approach differs in many ways from the “common law” process with which Americans and people in other nations legally influenced by England are familiar.

Also, there are far fewer canon lawyers than there are civil lawyers. So finding answers to canonical questions, whether they are simple or complex, can take a bit longer than some might wish.

More and more, though, dioceses and seminaries are offering survey courses in canon law to the wider public. Websites dedicated to canon law are beginning to appear, and affordable commentaries — that is, private explanations by experts — on canon law are available through Catholic and secular booksellers.

Best of all, the 1983 Code of Canon Law is available online and in hard copy. While canon law is, to be sure, a technical discipline, it was nevertheless meant to be read and applied by the faithful at all levels in the Church. There is no better way to begin acquiring some familiarity with our fascinating Catholic legal system than by simply picking up and reading passages of the current Code of Canon Law.

Comments Off

7 min read

Church Teaching

What are Indulgences?

Edward Peters

January 27, 2022 7:05 am January 27, 2022

7 min read

32114 views

Comments Off

7 min read

Indulgences are making a welcome reappearance in the spiritual life of Catholics. After centuries of slow decline in their use, punctuated by decades of almost complete neglect after the Second…

Indulgences are making a welcome reappearance in the spiritual life of Catholics. After centuries of slow decline in their use, punctuated by decades of almost complete neglect after the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965), the power of indulgences to enliven a sense of charity and to sharpen a healthy sorrow for sin is finally being rediscovered.

Three popes have led the way.

In 1968, Pope Paul VI (1962-1978) laid the foundations for this renewal by simplifying the rules on indulgences and redrafting the list of designated works and prayers. The pope’s aim was to help Catholics see indulgences not as some sort of special projects to be performed apart from their daily life, but rather as ways to foster charity and a sense of repentance throughout an ordinary day.

Pope Paul’s reorganization of indulgences left in place some of the older and more ambitious forms of indulgences, such as pilgrimages to shrines and participation in Eucharistic Congresses. But he also made it possible to share more deeply in the Church’s “treasury of merit” by doing simple things such as bearing patiently the inconveniences of daily life in reparation for sin.

Pope Paul reminded us that, because God works through the little things in our lives as well as the great, something as trivial as being stuck in rush-hour traffic can become an opportunity to move closer to God if we offer it up for love of Him.

During his pontificate, Pope John Paul II (1978-2005) oversaw two revisions of the “Enchiridion of Indulgences” and frequently extended indulgences to Catholics participating in special events in their local area.

In 1991 the Polish pope recognized the Akathist hymn of Eastern Catholics as an indulgenced prayer on par with the Marian Rosary prayed by Roman Catholics. Then, in 1998 he withstood strong criticism from some Protestant leaders when he announced that participation in millennial celebrations of the Catholic Church would be enriched by a plenary indulgence.

Finally, Pope Benedict XVI made several references to indulgences in his informal addresses. He granted a plenary indulgence to those participating in person or in spirit in the celebration of the 150th anniversary of the Marian apparitions at Lourdes.

There seems, in short, little doubt that today indulgences are emerging from the pall under which they have labored since the Protestant reformer Martin Luther repudiated them early in the 16th century. As a better understanding of indulgences spreads among Catholics and other Christians, they seem set once again to contribute to the welfare of the whole Church.

An Ancient Practice

We can say “once again” because indulgences are, in fact, quite an ancient part of Christian life. The actual word “indulgence” was first used in its modern sense in the 11th century, when they were offered as a spiritual reward for soldiers volunteering to join the efforts to free the Holy Land from Muslim invaders. But the actual practice of indulgences, if not the name, can be traced back much earlier in Church history, indeed, back to the times of the ancient Roman persecutions.

In those dark days, a practice grew up in which Christians suffering in prisons for the faith would sometimes send a letter to a bishop on behalf of a given penitent. The letter would ask the bishop, in recognition of the willingly accepted tribulations of the letter writer, to lighten the penance of a confessed and sorrowful sinner.

These requests, known as libelli pacis, were a beautiful example of the faithful putting into practice one of St. Paul’s most famous admonitions: to share one another’s burdens (see Gal 6:2).

The context in which such letters were written and rewarded underscored the close connection the Church has always sensed between the sacrament of confession and indulgences. To this day, both the Catechism of the Catholic Church (Nos. 1471-1479) and the Code of Canon Law (Canons 992-997) explain indulgences immediately in the context of the Sacrament of Confession.

It’s ironic, then, that because the practice of sacramental confession evolved over the centuries, while the theology of indulgences was lagging, the disconnection between penances for sins and indulgences grew over time to the point where confusion set in. Here’s one example.

“Seven Years Indulgence”?

Older Catholics likely recall when the description of each indulgence in the Raccolta (forerunner of today’s Enchiridion) was followed by a specific indication of time, for example, “300 days indulgence” or “seven years indulgence.”

The problem was (and Pope Paul VI saw this) that no one could say for sure what those time periods meant. All sorts of theories grew up about them, but most folks guessed that the time period of an indulgence must indicate time off from purgatory.

This was not an unreasonable guess. If nothing else, it honored the real connection between indulgences and reparation for sin.

But it assumed much more detail about how purgatory works than the Church has ever declared. (Purgatory is probably not an experience in time, but even if it were somehow associated with time, we don’t know how time might be measured in the next life.)

The suggestion, then, that a given indulgence might free one from, say, 300 days in purgatory was never correct.

As it happened, the time designations associated with indulgences were originally based on the lengthy periods of penance that were imposed after sacramental confession many centuries ago. But as those very long penances disappeared, the reckoning of indulgences as some sort of equivalents to what would have been offered up during such lengthy penances made less and less sense, and, eventually, the connections were lost.

Today, indulgences are grouped into only two types, partial and plenary. The category depends on whether the indulgence in question applies to some or all of the punishment a given member of the faithful owes for sin.

Other Misconceptions

While the connection between indulgences and post-sacramental penances no longer applies, the fact that indulgences apply only to the punishment for sin, and not to the forgiveness of sin itself, should not be overlooked.

Indulgences are not, and never have been, ways to seek forgiveness for sins. Much less are they ways to get “permission” to sin in advance! The Church has never taught anything so ridiculous.

To tell the truth, however, some of the popular explanations of indulgences lent themselves to just these sorts of misunderstandings. By the late Middle Ages, the stage was set for indulgences themselves to be attacked by the Protestant reformers because of some faulty explanations of what they really were.

Today, however, the Church’s constant teaching should be clear: Indulgences can be applied only to the punishment that is due for sins already forgiven, either in sacramental confession (in the case of mortal or venial sins) or by personal expressions of sorrow (in the case of venial sins only).

Further study of the Church’s carefully developed doctrine on indulgences can be rewarding and should be encouraged. But we shouldn’t leave the impression that only those with a thorough understanding of indulgences can make use of them.

Any Christian who, in a spirit of penitence for sins, asks God for the deeper share in the infinite merits of Jesus Christ that indulgences offer can use them to move ever closer to God — who wants nothing else than for us to be happy with Him forever.

Edward N. Peters, J.C.D., holds the Edmund Cardinal Szoka Chair at Sacred Heart Major Seminary, in Detroit, Mich. His book, “A Practical Guide to Indulgences,” is available from Liturgy Training Publications; call 800-933-1800.

Comments Off

9 min read

Scripture

What We Believe, Part 8: The Church Still Glorious, Still One

Father Joshua J. Whitfield

January 13, 2022 7:00 am January 13, 2022

9 min read

842 views

Comments Off

9 min read

Is oneness even possible? Is the Church one today? Is Christian unity possible at all? These are all reasonable questions, which is why we must follow Jesus to the very…

Is oneness even possible? Is the Church one today? Is Christian unity possible at all? These are all reasonable questions, which is why we must follow Jesus to the very end of John 17.

“And I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may be brought to perfection as one … ” (Jn 17:22-23). Notice Jesus is not letting go of the point. In John’s Gospel, it seems whenever Jesus teaches something necessary but scandalous — so scandalous that even his disciples think he should tap the breaks a bit — Jesus only presses the gas more. Like in John 6 when Jesus said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven,” people started to murmur (Jn 6:41). So then he said, “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you,” which, of course, made the situation even more tense (Jn 6:53). But still, he made the point even more strongly, saying, “my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink” (Jn 6:55). All the while, the disciples are in the back wishing Jesus would zip it as people start to walk away. But that is not what Jesus does. He keeps hammering the point, probably because eternal life depends on it. And so, here we are again: may they be one, may they be one, may they be brought to perfection as one — just in case we were not getting it. By this stage in our close reading of John 17, do you think Jesus thinks Christian unity is important? Or, do you think it is something Jesus would say is not all that significant, take it or leave it?

But how can we even begin to imagine Christian unity is possible? Notice Jesus is still talking about glory: “I have given them the glory you gave me.” Is the glory of God insufficient? Is the glory of God weak? Did not the angel Gabriel say to Mary that nothing is impossible to God (Lk 1:37)? Is the glory of God not enough to make Christians one? What are we saying about God when we say Christian unity is not really possible? Are we saying he may not be almighty after all?

“…that the world may know that you sent me, and that you loved them even as you loved me” (Jn 17:23). Again, why struggle to be one Church? Why struggle for unity? The answer is: for the sake of love. Because we believe God created the world in love, sustains it in love and redeems it in love. And the way that love is revealed to the world is through Jesus’s disciples who are in love with each other in oneness. St. Thomas Aquinas put it this way: the world will see “in amazement the glory of the saints” in unity and love.^[1] That is how the world will see love, by seeing Christian love.

I mentioned earlier the unique love I have for my wife and children: I love them as a father should love his children, and as a husband should love his wife, loving them more than I love your wife and kids. But that is so they can learn how to love and be loved; so that they in turn can love others well, which in turn makes the world a more loving place. Again, that’s how love grows. And, thinking about this in terms of the Church, that is how the rest of the world knows God’s love — by seeing it in Christians, in the Church. So, how can we Christians more credibly tell the world God loves them? By being one. Everything Jesus has been praying about — the oneness of his disciples, the oneness of believers today — is for the sake of love, so the world may see it.

“Father, they are your gift to me. I wish that where I am they also may be, that they may see my glory that you gave me, because you loved me before the foundation of the world” (Jn 17:24). Jesus’s eternal glory is now revealed as love. He desires that we be one so that we may be with him. Jesus desires it. He is not indifferent about whether we are one; he is not neutral on the question — he desires it! Jesus prays to his Father desiring our unity from the deepest core of his being. Why? Simply so that we can share in the glory of God together. And, again, remember the context: Jesus is praying that his disciples be one, that they be where he is, at the disciples’ worst and weakest moment. Jesus is praying they remain with him as they are doing the exact opposite, as they are scattering in darkness. This is strangely comforting, that at our worst moments, at our moments of scattering and sin — whether personal or ecclesial — still Jesus wants us with him.

When you sin, what do you think God is thinking? Is he mad? Do you think God wants nothing more to do with you? When I get into a fight with someone, I want to avoid that person, avoid the awkward encounter. It is human to avoid the person we are in conflict with. But the problem is that we sometimes project that very human instinct onto God, fooling ourselves into thinking God wants to avoid us after we have sinned. But that is not true. It is not in God’s nature to do that. After Jesus’s prayer in John 17, all the disciples scattered and left him alone. One of them betrayed him, and still, Jesus wants them and prays to be with them. You, at your worst moment — or me at mine — still have Jesus praying for you, loving you, wanting you. Never fool yourself into thinking that God will ever say to you, “I’m done with you.” Because he will not. “I am with you always,” Jesus said after the resurrection (Mt 28:20). He meant that. At the least, this reminds us of the good of hope. No matter what, Jesus will always want us. We can always return to him.

Which reveals God’s justice. “Righteous Father, the world also does not know you, but I know you, and they know that you sent me. I made known to them your name and I will make it known, that the love with which you love me may be in them and I in them” (Jn 17:25-26). Jesus ends his prayer invoking the justice of God. Often when we think of God’s justice, we think of the wrath of God, sometimes of some mean and nasty deity in the sky out to get us. We think of going to hell. But in this prayer that is not how Jesus thinks of the justice of God. He thinks of it in terms of love and knowledge. The justice of God is not the wrath of God sending you to hell. The justice of God is your communion with him, your love with him — a strange justice, because we certainly do not deserve it. God’s justice is our sharing life together with his Father with him in the Holy Spirit — in oneness and holiness. Also notice Jesus’s promise that he would continue to make his name known. The glory Jesus gave, he still gives. And so, what was true in John 17 — the call to oneness and holiness — is just as true now as it was then. And also, the grace available to accomplish oneness is just as available now as it was then. Again, millennia removed from this prayer, still this prayer claims us. We cannot ignore it — unless, of course, we no longer believe in glory, no longer believe what Jesus said.

A great deal of what we believe is found in John 17, especially that which we believe about the Church at its deepest level. Again, John 17 reveals the DNA of the Church. The Church is a sacramental entity, a sociological entity, an institutional and bureaucratic entity, all with a rather dusty, vibrant, glorious and squalid 2,000-year history. Yet in her essence, the Church is the oneness that the Father and the Son share in the Spirit. The Church, in its essence, is a communion — a communion in the Trinity that is open through Christ to the disciples, and which is also our communion and life together.

So, whenever you come into contact with the Church in her historical or her institutional forms — sometimes aggravating and sometimes glorious — we should always remember that the Church is first and foremost this — the oneness Jesus prayed for the night before he died.

Now of course, it is our belief that this oneness is in substance (although not entirely) the Roman Catholic Church. This, undoubtedly to many, is a scandalous claim. It certainly was to me. But we’ll explore that later, for that too is something we believe.

Comments Off

3 min read

Church Teaching

Christology 101: Christ’s Two Wills

Father Harrison Ayre

September 27, 2021 7:01 am September 27, 2021

3 min read

8226 views

Comments Off

3 min read

The ancient patristic dictum “that which is not assumed is not redeemed” plays an important role in our understanding of who Christ is. We believe, then, that Jesus had to…

The ancient patristic dictum “that which is not assumed is not redeemed” plays an important role in our understanding of who Christ is. We believe, then, that Jesus had to assume every aspect of what it means to be human. We believe that he has a human body, a human soul, a human mind. These different aspects were debated at various councils. One of the last questions that still lingered, however, was whether Jesus has a human will.

The debate is quite straightforward: If there was only “one will” at work in Jesus, then what does that say about our human will? If Jesus does not have a human will, then that means our wills are of no importance, thus what we choose and act upon with our wills plays no role in our salvation. This would destroy all teaching about sin and personal responsibility. Further, it would create an unfair picture of God who, in creating Adam and Eve, punished them for something for which they are not responsible. We can see, just from these simple examples, why the teaching of the two wills of Jesus is so important. If he doesn’t have a will like ours, our will is both unimportant and unredeemed.

The basis for the doctrine of the two wills of Jesus is developed by St. Maximus the Confessor (d. 662) who, in meditating on the words of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, notes where Jesus asks the Father to take his suffering from him. Yet, Jesus concludes, “But not what I will but what you will” (Mk 14:36). Here St. Maximus notes the two wills at play and states that it is the moment where the Son most perfectly draws the human will into a complete union with the divine will. It is the moment where Jesus as both man and God takes what is ours and unites it ever more perfectly with God. It is a part of his action of redemption of our humanity.

Implications

This has implications in many facets of our spiritual lives, but, perhaps most importantly, we see in this scene the remedy for concupiscence. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches, concupiscence is our tendency to choose evil over the good (CCC, No. 405). In Jesus’ humanity, we see a human will doing something fundamentally different: it courageously chooses the good of God despite the evil being thrown his way. It is the moment our will is healed, and the grace of this gift is now imparted to us through baptism, which is the beginning of the remedy against concupiscence.

In the human will of Jesus, we see not only what we should imitate, but also what is now imparted to our nature. His humanity is our humanity redeemed and perfected. It follows, then, that his human will can be lived out in and through us. As members of his Body, the Church, we now participate really and truly in his humanity. Thus his will is now to be ours as well, asking him to transform our wills to be like his — always giving ourselves over to the Father. This does, at times, mean the Cross, but it is an assent that ultimately brings life. To say “yes” to God in all things is the direction to which our wills ought to be oriented because, by doing so, it brings us to life, it brings us redemption and it makes our humanity fully alive.

Father Harrison Ayre is a priest of the Diocese of Victoria, British Columbia. Follow him on Twitter at @FrHarrison.

Comments Off