January 2023

January 27, 2023January 27, 2023 iacobusm Faith and Sin, Saints

A Sin is a Sin: St. Thomas and Conscience

A Sin is a Sin – 28 January 2023

Gessi St. Thomas A Sin is a Sin — **The Temptation of St. Thomas** *by Francesco Gessi, 1632-1633. St. Thomas says “no” to sin*

What is Truth?

“What is truth?” – I seem to remember someone raising the question somewhere. For the ideologue, “truth” is whatever promotes the ideology, and if it happens to correspond with reality that’s fine. If it doesn’t, no problem, we’ll make something up. Followers of Him who is “The Way, The Truth, and The Life” (John 14:6) know better . . . or we should know better. Truth isn’t something we create to serve our own purposes, it exists beyond and above us. We can’t manufacture truth, but we can discover it.

One of the Church’s greatest discoverers and teachers of the truth is St. Thomas Aquinas, Doctor of the Church. We celebrate his feast day today. Idealogues in the Church will often use his name, when it suits their purposes, to promote their heterodox version of Catholicism. As we shall see, however, it isn’t easy to exploit St. Thomas.

Below is a revised version of the very first blog post I published, nine years ago. Since “Truth” is a perennial theme (see here, here, and here), this seems a good day to republish “A Sin is a Sin: St. Thomas and Conscience.”

When is it A Sin Not To Sin?

St. Thomas Aquinas, greatest of Catholic theologians, is the target of a sort of “hostile takeover.” That is to say, I’ve heard some people invoke his authority in order to justify ignoring Catholic moral doctrine. They point out that St. Thomas says it’s wrong not to follow our conscience, even if it’s in error. Therefore (they say), if our conscience tells us to use contraceptives, or support pro- abortion politicians, or vote in favor of redefining marriage, we would actually be sinning if we obeyed the Church! Don’t blame them, these people add. St. Thomas Aquinas made them do it. What else can they do?

What can any of us do? Well . . . we can let the Angelic Doctor speak for himself. On the one hand, St. Thomas does actually say what the dissenters claim he says, that we are morally bound to follow our conscience. On the other hand, if we look at all of what he says, he actually means the opposite of what they say he means. Let’s look at the relevant passage from his Summa Theologiae [ST hereafter]:

. . . conscience is nothing else than the application of knowledge to some action. Now knowledge is in the reason. Therefore when the will is at variance with erring reason, it is against conscience. But every such will is evil; for it is written (Romans 14:23): “All that is not of faith”–i.e. all that is against conscience–“is sin.”

Therefore the will is evil when it is at variance with erring reason. ST IiaIae

Conscience is not Feelings or Opinions

St. Thomas composing - A Sin is a Sin — *St. Thomas composing the* **Summa** *(image from aquinasonline.com)*

Yes, it is “evil” to disobey even an erroneous conscience. But here’s the key. Conscience does not mean “feelings” or “opinions” (the common misrepresentation). Rather, conscience is “the application of knowledge to some action.” To St. Thomas (and to the Church) it is the process of applying moral principles to one’s particular situation. In another section he describes it as “knowledge applied to an individual case.” (ST I, 79, 13).

Since conscience is the reasoning process by which we determine whether a course of action is good or evil, going against conscience means deliberately choosing what we believe to be evil, even if we do not actually accomplish evil:

But when erring reason proposes something as being commanded by God, then to scorn the dictate of reason is to scorn the commandment of God. (ST IiaIae)

When we violate our conscience, then, quite apart from the actual harm we might or might not be doing (objective sin), we are intentionally rejecting what we believe to be God’s will (subjective sin). The “evil” in violating our conscience is our conscious choice to disobey God. This act of defiance is a sin in itself, quite apart from the sinfulness (or not) of the particular act we are contemplating.

Forming Our Conscience

The story doesn’t end there, of course. St. Thomas was well aware that someone might try to use his argument to justify sin. He goes on to explain that, even though we must obey an erroneous conscience, we might be morally culpable (i.e., guilty of sin) for having an erroneous conscience. He says:

If then reason or conscience err with an error that is voluntary, either directly, or through negligence, so that one errs about what one ought to know; then such an error of reason or conscience does not excuse the will, that abides by that erring reason or conscience, from being evil. But if the error arise from ignorance of some circumstance, and without any negligence, so that it cause the act to be involuntary, then that error of reason or conscience excuses the will, that abides by that erring reason, from being evil. (ST IiaIae)

What One Ought to Know

*St. Thomas did* **not** *make her do it*

Recall that conscience is moral principles (what he calls “knowledge” or “Divine Law”) when we apply it to particular circumstances. We don’t get to create those moral principles for ourselves. For an adult Christian “what one ought to know” are the moral principles contained in Church teaching. Now,it is quite possible to be mistaken or misinformed, through no fault of one’s own (invincible ignorance), about the circumstances to which one is applying the principles. Therefore, invincible ignorance excuses us from subjective guilt. Failure to form our conscience properly does not.

Just to be sure his point is clear, St. Thomas illustrates with the following examples:

For instance, if erring reason tell a man that he should go to another man’s wife, the will that abides by that erring reason is evil; since this error arises from ignorance of the Divine Law, which he is bound to know. But if a man’s reason, errs in mistaking another for his wife, and if he wish to give her her right [i.e., sexual intercourse] when she asks for it, his will is excused from being evil: because this error arises from ignorance of a circumstance, which ignorance excuses, and causes the act to be involuntary. (ST IiaIae)

Notice the phrase “bound to know.” Whether or not adultery is wrong is not a matter of conscience. Its wrongness is an unalterable reality that we are “bound” to acknowledge.

The Wages of Sin

When the champions of conscience (or perhaps more properly, “conscience”) over and against Catholic moral doctrine invoke St. Thomas, it is almost always in order to justify their rejection of the Church’s teaching on one of the currently fashionable sexual issues, such as contraception, gay marriage, extra-marital sex, and so on. Scripture and the teaching of the Church have unambiguously condemned these practices under the sixth commandment’s prohibition of adultery.

If we look at St. Thomas’s entire discussion, however, and not just the one sentence that seems to excuse dissent, we see that he is saying explicitly that you cannot invoke conscience against these teachings. He uses adultery as his example to demonstrate that the role of conscience is not to determine basic rules of right and wrong. Rather, it is to guide our own actions according to the sure rules we have received from God through his Church.

Three Strikes You’re Out

It would be helpful at this point to recall that sin involves a lot more than just the will of the sinner. The Church teaches that there must be three conditions for a sin to be a mortal sin: grave matter, full knowledge, and full consent. In other words, “it’s bad, you know darn well it’s bad, but you go ahead and do it anyway.”

St. Thomas is here considering only the second part of the formulation, that is, whether or not you know darn well it’s bad. Even if, through no fault of your own (a significant “if”, as we saw above) you don’t know it’s bad, and so are not guilty of choosing bad, it’s still bad. And it’s bad because bad consequences, for you and/or society at large, are likely to follow.

All Manner of Destructive Consequences

That’s why it’s a sin, after all. Consider St. Thomas’s example of the unwitting adulterer. He is not guilty of subjective sin, because he is not aware of what he is doing.

The act is nevertheless an objective sin, which could lead to all manner of destructive consequences. Fathering a child out of wedlock (with all the attendant problems) is one. So is contracting a disease which might in turn infect his innocent wife. Let’s not forget the other woman. She might receive an infection from him, and, depending on her awareness of the situation, might feel exploited or betrayed by him. If the adultery becomes known, as is likely, it will damage the man’s relationship with his wife and children. If not, he may feel the need to cover up his deed and commit the further sin of lying in order protect his family . . . And on and on.

A Sin is a Sin

In other words, a sin is a sin is a sin, and whatever we may think, it’s still a sin. As Catholics, we have ample means of knowing the Moral Law, and therefore have no excuse for disobeying it. We have it straight from the Ox’s mouth. Nothing justifies committing acts which the Church teaches to be morally wrong.

January 16, 2023January 16, 2023 iacobusm Sacred Music, Sacred scripture

I Rejoiced! Monteverdi’s “Laetatus Sum”

I Rejoiced – 16 January 2023

Jerusalem - I rejoiced — **Jerusalem** from **The Nuremburg Chronicle**, 1493

It’s not easy . . .

Monteverdi - I rejoiced — *The only certain portrait of Claudio Monteverdi, from the title page of* **Fiori poetici***, a 1644 book of commemorative poems for his funeral (Wikipedia)*

It’s not easy to be a pioneer. But that was the path Claudio Monteverdi followed. He straddled the fifteenth and sixteenth cenuries, living from 1567 to 1643. Monteverdi worked in both secular and religious music, and was a key figure in the development of opera, among other things. The composer introduced numerous innovations to the music of his time, playing a large role in the development of Renaissance music into baroque.

As we noted above, innovators don’t always enjoy smooth sailing. Individuals invested in the status quo will fight fiercely to preserve said status quo (and along with it, of course, their own importance). It’s no surprise, then, that Monteverdi received his share of criticism. We may be surprised to learn that even a thing as commonplace (to us) as harmony caused an enormous controversy.

I Rejoiced

All those disputes, of course are centuries behind us. We still listen to Monteverd’s music today because it’s beautiful and inspiring. On an earlier occasion I posted “Nisi Dominus” from Monteverdi’s Vespro Della Beata Vergine (a musical setting for Vespers, or Evening Prayer). Today I’m following up with another selection from the same composition, “Laetatus Sum”.

“Laetatus Sum” (I rejoiced) is a musical rendition of Psalm 122 (see the English translation below from the RSV). The Psalm itself celebrates the joy and peace one can find in “The House of the Lord.”

Jerusalem Old and New

The ancient psalmist was no doubt referring principally to the actual Jerusalem of his day, and the Temple of stone and wood built upon its heights. We, looking back through the lens of God’s Revelation in Jesus Christ, can see a deeper meaning. The Book of Revelation speaks of “the Holy City, the New Jerusalem, coming down out of Heaven from God” (Rev 21:2). In other words, the psalmist’s Jerusalem also represents our Heavenly Destination, Deo volente.

The New Testament, as St. Augustine pointed out, is concealed in the Old, and the Old Testament is revealed in the New. And here, beautifully put to music.

“Laetatus Sum” – English Baroque Soloists

The music in this clip features:
– Ensemble: English Baroque Soloists
– Choirs: Monteverdi Choir / London Oratory Junior Choir
– Conductor: John Eliot Gardiner
– Soloists: Michael Chance (Countertenor), Bryn Terfel (Bass), Alastair Miles (Bass), Ann Monoyios (Soprano), Sandro Naglia (Tenor), Nigel Robson (Tenor), Mark Tucker (Tenor)

I Rejoiced – Psalm 122

I was glad when they said to me,
“Let us go to the house of the LORD!”
Our feet have been standing
within your gates, O Jerusalem!

Jerusalem, built as a city
which is bound firmly together,
to which the tribes go up,
the tribes of the LORD,
as was decreed for Israel,
to give thanks to the name of the LORD.
There thrones for judgment were set,
the thrones of the house of David.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem!
“May they prosper who love you!
Peace be within your walls, and

security within your towers!”

For my brethren and companions’ sake
I will say, “Peace be within you!”
For the sake of the house of the LORD our God,
I will seek your good.

January 10, 2023January 10, 2023 iacobusm Faith and Sin, Saints

Human Trafficking, Love & St. Vitalis

Human Trafficking, Love & St. Vitalis 11 Jan 2023

*1st century Roman mosaic; Kunsthistorisches Museum / Public Domain*

When a man dies, his life is revealed.

Call no man happy before his death,

for by how he ends a man is known. (Sirach 11:27-28)

Human Trafficking

Prostitution sometimes hides under the phrase “the world’s oldest profession.” There’s some truth in that expression, in that the practice has been with us since the beginning of recorded history, and beyond. But only enough truth to obscure and trivialize a much deeper and uglier truth. Prostitution is not a “profession” that someone chooses for themselves like law, medicine, or selling real estate. Rather, it is a degrading form of sexual slavery. It involves buying and selling human beings, and treating them like a disposable product. The more recent name “human trafficking” hits closer to the mark.

It is a sad mark of our fallen state that, despite its evident inhumanity, there is always no shortage of customers for the trade in human flesh. Just as today (see below), there were many people in earlier times who strove to normalize prostitution. Christians who publicly denounce sexual exploitation have always done so at the risk of provoking the wrath of promoters of the Oldest Profession.

St. Vitalis, Patron of Handymen and Prostitutes

One of today’s saints, St. Vitalis of Gaza, is a good example. The Orthodox churches and the Catholic Church venerate St. Vitalis as the Patron Saint both of day laborers and of “ladies of the night.” In other words, handy-men and prostitutes. His hagiography [Here and Here] tells us that, around 625 A.D., when he was already of advanced years, he came to Alexandria in Egypt in order to minister to the prostitutes. His method, as described in the brief biography on Catholic.org, was as follows:

[A]fter obtaining the name and address of every prostitute in the city, he hired himself out as a day laborer, and took his wage to one of these women at the end of the day. He then would teach her about her dignity and value as a woman and that she did not deserve to be used by men as an object of their lust.

He followed the same routine every day, and he succeeded in rescuing a large number of women in this way. Many fellow Christians misunderstood his motives, however, as he insisted that the women he helped not tell anybody about his role in their conversion, or the real reason for his nocturnal visits. Presumably these women – and their handlers – only let him in because they believed he was a paying “customer.” If they knew what he really wanted, they would have barred the door . . . or worse.

One righteously indignant young Christian, assuming the worst about Vitalis, struck him a blow to the head that resulted in his death. Only then were the women he had helped to save able to clear his name by their testimony.

Nothing New Under the Sun

There are a number of compelling angles to the story of St. Vitalis. One is that, yet again, we have confirmation that “there is nothing new under the Sun” (Ecclesiastes 1:9). The scourge of prostitution is still very much with us and, as St. Vitalis understood fourteen centuries ago, it is a vicious form of exploitation that not only enslaves the body but sickens the soul. Despite the push in some quarters today to whitewash prostitution with terms like “sex workers,” it is becoming more commonly recognized for the evil it is. Hence, as we saw above, the more accurate (if still somewhat tame) heading of “human trafficking.”

Nonetheless, prostitution is still a sad reality. In fact, it is worse and more pervasive than most of us realize. Several years ago, I had the opportunity to hear a talk by Darlene Pawlik. Darlene is now a pro-life and anti-trafficking activist, but she was at one time an exploited teen who was first “trafficked” on her 14th birthday. Darlene remained under the control of various traffickers, a virtual slave, for the next several years . . . all right here in United States. A turning to Christ eventually saved her. She escaped with the help of Christians who, like St. Vitalis, made it their mission to reach out to the victims of the “sex trade.” There are in fact many groups today that similarly follow in the footsteps of St. Vitalis, both among Catholics and other Christians as well.

One Soul at a Time

Another point that stands out in the mission of St. Vitalis is his desire to save one soul at a time. He is like the shepherd in Jesus’ parable (see Luke 15:4) who leaves behind the 99 sheep to recover the one who is lost. St. Vitalis treated each woman as an individual, and talked to her about her life, and the salvation of her own soul. He treated each prostitute as a thinking, feeling child of God instead of an object to be used, and he was therefore able to offer real Love, as opposed to the tawdry simulacrum of love they were used to seeing.

*From http://awakenreno.org/myths-and-facts-about-nevada-legal-prostitution/*

I can’t help but think, in a way, of St. Mother Theresa of Calcutta, who also insisted on treating each human being like, well, a human being. Secular leftists such as the late Christopher Hitchens criticized her for being an ineffectual sentimentalist: she should have been addressing “The Real Causes” of poverty (capitalism, inequality, etc.) instead of “merely” comforting the poorest of the poor in their distress.

While there is certainly a place for governmental and political action, Mother Theresa understood that laws can’t save souls, and that Christ didn’t suffer and die to save us from abstractions. He didn’t sacrifice Himself to establish a perfect political or economic system. He came to save us from sin, through the great outpouring of His Divine Love on The Cross.

The Only Thing That Can Save Us From Sin

His Love, as it happens, is still the only thing that can save us from sin. That’s why so many of us have come to conversion through the example of others, or because of the loving attention of a Christian who, like Christ Himself, showed an interest in us, not as a means to an end, but simply for our own good.

Not all of us have a calling to start seeking out prostitutes, of course. As the death of St. Vitalis shows, that was and remains a risky undertaking, for a number of reasons. We can, however, offer material assistance to those who are willing and able to take the risks (perhaps some of the groups linked above). Likewise, we can offer our prayers for their safety and success, and also for the salvation of the exploited women (and men) they seek to help. We should certainly support appropriate laws to thwart traffickers and to help their victims.

Pray for Victims of Human Trafficking

As always, prayer is a powerful tool available to each one of us. In this context we could ask specifically for the intercession of St. Vitalis of Gaza. We could ask, for instance, that St. Vitalis pray for our own continued conversion and growth in holiness.

We could also pray that he help us recognize the seriousness of sexual sin, including not only prostitution but other varieties of commercial sex such as pornography, and how permissiveness in this area can help create an environment in which a soul-killing evil like the “sex trade” can flourish.

Finally, we could ask him to intercede both for the conversion and repentance of the traffickers in human flesh, but, most especially, for the redemption, body and soul, of their victims.

St. Vitalis of Gaza, pray for us, and for all victims of human trafficking.

January 8, 2023January 8, 2023 iacobusm The Liturgical Year

The Baptism of the Lord: The Mission Begins

The Baptism of the Lord – 9 January 2023

Our Mission

“The people were filled with expectation,
and all were asking in their hearts
whether John might be the Christ . . .” (Luke 3:15)

Today our mission starts in earnest. The Baptism of the Lord is the end of the official Christmas Season, although, as we have seen, there is a time honored tradition of keeping the Christmas lights burning until the Feast of the Presentation on February 2nd. And to be sure today’s feast and the Presentation both have important connections to Christmas. In addition, both also point us forward into the drama of the liturgical year.

There’s something a little unsettling about the Baptism of Jesus. The inspired authors of the Gospels nonetheless clearly want us to pay close attention to it. It’s the opening action in the Gospel of Mark. It directly follows the infancy narratives in Matthew and Luke. In the Case of John’s Gospel, it’s the first thing after the Hymn to the Word Made Flesh. The Baptism inaugurates Christ’s public ministry. It is also one of the few events outside of the Passion and Resurrection narrative that all four Gospels describe in (more or less) the same terms. Given that, we would be wise to pay close attention.

The Baptism of the Lord

*John the Baptist, by El Greco, 1597-1607*

I say “more or less” because there are subtle but significant differences. Mark’s account, for instance, is the sparest, except that he gives us the most vivid picture of the Baptist himself. He says that “John was clothed with camel’s hair, and had a leather girdle around his waist, and ate locusts and wild honey” (Mark 1:6).

John’s Gospel recounts John the Baptist hailing Jesus with the title “Lamb of God” (John 1:36). The image of the Lamb also takes a prominent place in other Johannine books, especially Revelation. They all tell of the Baptist’s recognition of himself as a mere the forerunner to Jesus, whom he points out as the true Messiah. Only Matthew, who provides the Gospel reading for this year’s mass, records John’s reluctance to baptize the Lord:

Then Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan to John, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now; for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. (Matthew 3:13-15)

The Baptist, like us, finds something unsettling about Jesus seeking baptism. John knows who Jesus is. He knows that Jesus, being sinless, has no need of forgiveness. He only consents to baptizing his Lord after Jesus assures him that it is “to fulfill all righteousness.” But what does that mean for Jesus, who is surely the very embodiment of all righteousness?

Filled With Expectation

Before we try to answer that question, let’s take a look at Luke’s Gospel. Luke includes an observation unique to his account: “The people were filled with expectation.” (Luke 3:15) He draws our attention not just to the curiosity of the crowd asking John whether he is the Messiah, but to the longing in their hearts. The Man to whom John directs their attention as one mightier than himself answers their expectation by submitting to baptism in company with them, and he is praying in their midst, when

heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended upon him
in bodily form like a dove.
And a voice came from heaven,
“You are my beloved Son;
with you I am well pleased.” (Luke 3:21-22)

A Living Force for All Mankind

Jesus undergoing baptism, not for himself but for the benefit of the crowd watching him with expectation in their hearts, is pleasing to God. In today’s Office of Readings St. Gregory Nazianzus explains the implications of Christ’s actions for our own expectant hearts:

Today let us do honor to Christ’s baptism and celebrate this feast in holiness. Be cleansed entirely and continue to be cleansed. Nothing gives such pleasure to God as the conversion and salvation of men, for whom his every word and every revelation exist. He wants you to become a living force for all mankind, lights shining in the world. You are to be radiant lights as you stand beside Christ, the great light, bathed in the glory of him who is the light of heaven.

St. Gregory tells us we are to be shining lights, not shining with our own glory, but reflecting the Light of God. Our cleansing, that is to say, the forgiveness of our sins, is not for ourselves alone, but in order to make us suitable instruments for the Lord.

“You are my beloved Son;
with you I am well pleased.” (Luke 3:21-22)

The Baptism of Christ, by Andrea del Verrocchio and Leonardo da Vinci, 1470-1475

Listen to Him!

We welcomed the Christ Child at Christmas. Now, as he takes up his mission as a grown man, our mission is to follow him, that all righteousness may be fulfilled. All four Gospels contain some version of words from Heaven at the Baptism of Jesus: “You are my beloved Son, in You I am well pleased.” We see these words again, at the Transfiguration on Mount Tabor. This time, however, they don’t address themselves to Jesus himself, but the watching disciples: “This is my chosen son.” Here we have the added command: “Listen to Him!” (Luke 9:35). We have our marching orders.

*Featured image top of page: The Baptism of Christ, by Hans Rottenhammer and Jan Bruegel, early 17th Century

Today’s Mass Readings: The Baptism of the Lord

January 8, 2023January 8, 2023 iacobusm Christmas and Advent, The Liturgical Year

We Three Kings: Music for Epiphany

We Three Kings

“We Three Kings of Orient Are . . .” Is there anyone out there who doesn’t know this song? It’s easily the most familiar hymn associated with Epiphany, at least as it’s celebrated in the Western Church. I wrote more extensively about Epiphany itself in my post on Janauary 6th, the traditional date of the feast (Epiphany – Faith vs. Power). Because today is the formal liturgical celebration in many dioceses, I’d like to focus briefly on the song.

“We Three Kings” was written by John Henry Hopkins, jr. in 1857. At the time he was rector of Christ Episcopal Church in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. At the same time he was a deacon and music teacher at General Theological Seminary in New York City. He composed the song for a Christmas pageant at the the seminary.

Over the next few years, Hopkins shared the song every year with his family and friends. Everyone thought highly enough of “We Three Kings” that Hopkins published it in a book of carols and religious songs in 1863. It achieved wide popularity in United States, and was published in Britain in 1928. It has since become one of the most popular Christmas carols. You can read a fuller treatment of the song’s history here.

Last year’s Epiphany reflection: “9th Day of Christmas: The Feast of Epiphany“

Epiphany, by Fernando Gallego, 1480-1490

King, Priest, and Prophet

In the first stanza of the song, we hear the Magi, the wise men from the East from the second chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, introduce themselves as “We Three Kings.” Each king in turn describes the gift he brings to baby Jesus in the next three stanzas. These are the three gifts we see in the Gospel account: Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh. Each gift denotes one of Christ’s roles as savior. Gold represents kingship, Frankincense priesthood. Myrrh, which was used in embalming bodies, pointed to his prophetic death. All three kings sing together again in the final stanza.

The Wikipedia entry tells us that

The carol’s melody has been described as “sad” and “shifting” in nature. Because of this, it highly resembles a song from the Middle Ages and Middle Eastern music, both of which it has been frequently compared to.

The beautiful and solemn performance of “We Three Kings” in the clip below gives the song an appropriately regal air. The Choir of King’s College, Cambridge sings the song. I have included several artistic depictions of the Three Wise men from different eras. The words are posted beneath.

May you have a blessed Epiphany!

We Three Kings:

All	We Three Kings of Orient are, Bearing gifts we traverse afar, Field and fountain, Moor and mountain, Following yonder Star.
Refrain	O Star of Wonder, Star of Night, Star with Royal Beauty bright, Westward leading, Still proceeding, Guide us to Thy perfect Light.
Gaspard	Born a King on Bethlehem plain, Gold I bring to crown Him again, King for ever, Ceasing never Over us all to reign. Refrain
Melchior	Frankincense to offer have I, Incense owns a Deity nigh: Prayer and praising All men raising, Worship Him God on High. Refrain
Balthazar	Myrrh is mine; its bitter perfume Breathes a life of gathering gloom;— Sorrowing, sighing, Bleeding, dying, Sealed in the stone-cold tomb. Refrain
All	Glorious now behold Him arise, King, and God, and Sacrifice; Heav’n sings Hallelujah: Hallelujah the earth replies. Refrain

January 5, 2023January 5, 2023 iacobusm Christmas and Advent, Faith and Politics

Epiphany – Faith vs. Power

Faith vs. Power –6 January 2023

The Revealing of Christ

Commit your way to the LORD;

trust in him, and he will act. . .

. . . For the wicked shall be cut off;

but those who wait for the LORD shall possess the land.

Yet a little while, and the wicked will be no more;

though you look well at his place, he will not be there.

But the meek shall possess the land,

and delight themselves in abundant prosperity. (Psalm 37: 5;9-11)

In the earliest days of the Church Epiphany was one of the most important observances, perhaps second only to the great Feast of the Resurrection at Easter. Even before Christmas existed as a Christian holy day, believers gathered on January 6th to celebrate the Epiphany, i.e., the “revealing” of Jesus as the Son of God in some combination of the Incarnation and the Nativity, the visit of the Magi, and the Baptism of Jesus.

A few years back the Catholic bishops in the United States determined that they could best impress the importance of this feast on their flock by allowing local bishops conferences to move it to the nearest Sunday, rather than keeping it in its ancient home on the sixth day of the year. Whatever we may think of that decision, it does give me another opportunity of discussing those mysterious visitors to newborn Jesus described in chapter 2 of Matthew’s Gospel, the Magi.

Notre Dame - Faith v. Power — *Detail from the medieval polychrome choir screen in Paris’ Notre Dame Cathedral*, *Paris*

Faith Seeking Understanding

Let me begin with an observation from my post on last year’s liturgical celebration of Epiphany. I described the Blessed Mother as exemplifying St. Augustine’s famous description of theology: fides quaerens intellectum, “faith seeking understanding.” The Magi, too, are the very personification of fides quaerens intellectum. Their faith isn’t the Jewish faith, of course, and they’re decades too early to know the Christian faith . . . although they do come to Christ. Quite literally.

We are not sure exactly who they are where they come from. Matthew doesn’t tell us that they’re kings, or how many of them there are. He simply describes them as μάγοι ἀπὸ ἀνατολῶν, magi (sometimes translated “wise men”) from the east (Matthew 2:1). The term magi suggests that they may have been Zoroastrian priests from Persia.

In any case, they come following a star, a sign from God. They put themselves into God’s hands, trusting in him to lead them to a “newborn King of the Jews.” When they are led to a seemingly ordinary baby boy with undistinguished parents, they still trust that he is nonetheless worthy of their kingly gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Their trust in God’s guidance, that is to say their faith, is rewarded one last time when they are warned in a dream to avoid the murderous King Herod on their way home.

Faith vs. Power

Pugh Wise Men - Faith v. Power — ***Wise Men Still Seek Him***, *Print by Jennifer Pugh*

Ah yes, let’s not forget Herod. Where the Magi embody trust in God, Herod is the man of action who puts his trust in his own worldly power. His lack of faith blinds him. He’s unaware of the Messiah being born in his own backyard. He lives in mortal fear of losing his power (which is not, in fact his own power at all: he is a puppet kinglet under the control of the Emperor across the sea in Rome, who can remove him at his pleasure). In his fear and rage, he lashes out with deadly violence against the innocent baby boys of Bethlehem.

It’s all to no effect. With all his worldly power he can’t stop the coming of the Messiah, or even save his own life: he is dead shortly after the birth of Jesus, and his already small realm is divided into four even smaller pieces among his heirs.

Wise Men Still Seek Him

We can learn a lot from the faith of the Magi. There is a popular meme that has made its way onto countless Christmas cards: a picture of the Magi with the inscription “Wise Men Still Seek Him.” How often do we, who have the full revelation of Jesus Christ and his Gospel, instead seek our own worldly agenda, following the example of miserable King Herod?

St. Paul tells us that “the wisdom of this world is folly with God. For it is written, ‘He catches the wise in their craftiness . . . So let no one boast of men. For all things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future, all are yours; and you are Christs; and Christ is Gods.” (1 Corinthians 3:19; 21-22).

That’s a star we all can follow.

*Featured image: Interview of the Magi and Herod the Great, by J. James Tissot late 19th century

Music for Epiphany

Some of you may disagree, but it seems that the quality of Christmas songs sharply declines beginning in the mid twentieth century. Happily, there are some exceptions. One of them is posted below: the 1963 Bing Crosby recording of “Do You Hear What I Hear?”

The song was composed by Noël Regney and Gloria Shayne in the midst of the fear and anxiety of the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, and a version by the Harry Simeon Chorale was released that year. Bing Crosby’s recording the following Christmas made the song a favorite. It features the star from Matthew’s Gospel, and a king who is decidedly not King Herod:

Said the king to the people everywhere
Listen to what I say! (Listen to what I say!)
Pray for peace, people, everywhere
Listen to what I say! (Listen to what I say!)
The Child, the Child sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light

Lyrics

Do you hear what I hear?

Said the night wind to the little lamb
Do you see what I see?
(Do you see what I see?)
Way up in the sky, little lamb
Do you see what I see?
(Do you see what I see?)
A star, a star, dancing in the night
With a tail as big as a kite
With a tail as big as a kite

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
(Do you hear what I hear?)
Ringing through the sky, shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
(Do you hear what I hear?)

A song, a song high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea

Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king
Do you know what I know? (Do you know what I know?)
In your palace warm, mighty king
Do you know what I know? (Do you know what I know?)

A Child, a Child shivers in the cold
Let us bring him silver and gold
Let us bring him silver and goldSaid the king to the people everywhere
Listen to what I say! (Listen to what I say!)
Pray for peace, people, everywhere
Listen to what I say! (Listen to what I say!)

January 1, 2023January 1, 2023 iacobusm Christmas and Advent, Saints

9th Day of Christmas – God’s Ways Are Not Our Ways

God’s Ways

God’s ways are not our ways. We hear a lot of Isaiah through the seasons of Advent and Christmas, but the passage below expresses with particular clarity one of the most striking and curious things about Christmas:

For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
     neither are your ways my ways, says the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
     so are my ways higher than your ways
     and my thoughts than your thoughts. (Isaiah 55:8-9)

Yes, God’s ways are not our ways. It’s easy enough to say, but it can sometimes be difficult for us to accept. Why does God not answer our prayers the way we would like? Why does He allow bad things to happen? Why, when it comes down to it, does he not do what we would do, if we were God? Why does God always surprise us?

Pope Benedict

I’ve been thinking about this problem (our problem, my problem, not God’s) this past weekend. We have just learned that Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI has passed away. I’m sure I’ve cited and discussed Pope Benedict/Joseph Ratzinger more than any other non-Biblical source over my years of blogging. He provides the main focus of one of my most popular posts, “A Smaller, Purer Church?” His Insights as theologian, Prefect of the CDF, and later as Pope are a vast treasure. His combination of deep insight and doctrinal rigor, which he delivered with unfailing charity, has been a constant inspiration to me. He has helped form me as a writer but also, more importantly, as a Christian.

He was the natural choice to succeed St. Pope John Paul II when the latter passed away in 2005. And yet, he was a surprise. The popular image of Joseph Ratzinger was “God’s Rottweiler,” the fire-breathing inquisitor who headed JP II’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. Most of us had no idea what a kind, charitable, and gentle man he was until after he ascended the Throne of Peter as Pope Benedict XVI. That was a happy surprise.

Pope Benedict presented us with a somewhat less happy surprise eight years later. None of us, I’m sure, were expecting the first papal resignation in more than 500 years. And with all due respect to the reigning pontiff, many of us remain perplexed by the aftermath. Is the current uncertainty and division the Will of God? Is so, his ways are not our ways indeed.

“Get Behind Me, Satan!”

But should we really be surprised? Don’t we see the same thing over and over again during the Christmas Season? After all, who would expect the Infinite, Almighty Deity to manifest himself as a tiny baby, born in a cattle stall with the beasts? Who would have thought that wise and exalted visitors would come to this baby from strange lands many miles away with their rich gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, as we will commemorate in the coming liturgical celebration of Epiphany?

Ours is a God indeed whose thoughts are not our thoughts, whose ways are not our ways: he constantly confounds our expectations. This is not the Grand Entrance any of us would have devised for God Made Manifest.

Nor did the child grow up to be the sort of Messiah that people expected, not even his own disciples: he rebukes Peter, his chief Apostle, with “Get behind me, Satan!” (Matthew 16:23) because the man who will become the first Pope can’t accept that the Christ must suffer and die in order to save humanity. And nobody at all was really expecting what happened on Easter Sunday.

Get behind me - God's Ways — **“Get Thee Behind Me, Satan!”** by James Tissot, 1886-1896

Of course, none of the above should have been a surprise: it was all foretold by the Prophets, as we saw over and over again in the Advent readings and prayers. In other words, he’s a God of the unexpected mostly because we insist on setting ourselves up to be surprised. But that’s the way we imperfect, broken human beings are: we think we can simply force reality to be what we want it to be . . . but God usually has other plans.

St. Gregory Nazianzus

We can glimpse something of this stubbornness in the story of one of today’s, saints, St. Gregory Nazianzus, Doctor of the Church. Gregory led an interesting life. He was born in the year 325. His father was a bishop who had a habit of drifting into heresy. Gregory’s mother brought him back to Catholic orthodoxy the first time, Gregory himself did so many years later. The future saint learned about the faith largely from his pious mother. When he went away to school he formed a deep and lasting friendship with another future Saint and Doctor, Basil. By the way, today is also Basil’s feast day.

Gregory was determined to live a life devoted to God. In addition to taking care of his aged parents, he spent his time engaged in scriptural and doctrinal studies. He worked closely with St. Basil, and spent some time in Basil’s hermitage. Nonetheless, he had a strong aversion to receiving Holy Orders. Then, after his restoration of his father to catholicity,

[T]he aged bishop [Gregory’s father], desiring his son’s presence and support, overruled his scrupulous shrinking from the priesthood, and forced him to accept ordination (probably at Christmas, 361). Wounded and grieved at the pressure put upon him, Gregory fled back to his solitude, and to the company of St. Basil; but after some weeks’ reflection returned to Nazianzus, where he preached his first sermon on Easter Sunday . . . (Catholic.org, “St. Gregory Nazianzus”)

God‘s Ways Are Not Ours

God’s plan, it seems, was not Gregory’s. Gregory did not want to be a priest. Once the matter was no longer in his hands, however, he gave himself fully to his calling. He composed the learned and influential writings that would later earn him the title Doctor of the Church. He served as bishop, and fought strenuously to preserve the integrity of the Catholic Faith. God’s way, it turns out, was the better way.

We have a lot to think about as we begin the second week of the Christmas Season. We think that we ourselves should be in charge, that we know better. And yet, we see over and over again that “the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.” (1 Corinthians 1:25)

Yes, God’s ways are not our ways. All we really need to do is to surrender our lives and our wills to the Child lying in the manger.

Music for the Christmas Season: Silent Night

The Clip of this much-loved Christmas song features the vocal group Chanticleer. There are any number of dramatic (and more or less fictionalized) accounts the composition of “Silent Night.” Here’s an unadorned historical account of how a young priest named Joseph Mohr and organist Franz Xaver Gruber together created this classic carol at Christmastime, 1818.