The Merit of Christ's Humanity

        In becoming Catholic, one realizes the necessity of knowing the heretical doctrines that the Church has struggled against throughout her history. Of the more critical are those revolving around the Person of Christ. Was he divine? Was he human? Was he both? The Church distinctly has received through revelation that Christ is both fully divine and fully human, since his conception and forever. According to the universal Church, Christ has two natures and two wills, one divine and the other human, unified in one Person. Oftentimes, though, we are tempted to believe that Christ's perfection while on earth was mainly the source of his divine will without any human struggle. Yet, we know that he is true man, and his struggles were truly human.
        “Jesus was perfect, because he was God,” we are tempted to say. “His suffering was easier, and his endurance unfailing, because he was perfect.” This is the logic born out of a misunderstanding of who Christ is. The Scriptures are clear, though, that his perfection was something to be maintained throughout his entire life, rather than some permanent disposition. No, instead, he was born without sin and had to struggle to remain perfect. He is one who “in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15 NRSVCE). He truly took on our humanity, and truly humbled himself in every way.
        The letter to the Hebrews goes very much into detail how Christ merited his perfection through obedience in suffering: “Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered; and having been made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him” (Heb. 5:8-9 NRSVCE). We know that Christ was sinless his whole life, yet he still merited his sinlessness. The concept of “merit” is a wholly Catholic one. While the belief in the inherent “merit” of his sacrifice on the cross and resurrection is widely accepted among Christians, the “merit” of his entire life and everyday struggle leading up to his passion beginning in the Garden of Gethsemane, is often overlooked. Yet, his sacrifice of love on Calvary would be really null and void if he had not been faithful and obedient throughout his entire life. So, we see that even from a small child, his obedience to his parents was part of his sacrifice on the Cross, or the accomplishment of his other daily duties. How else could he then call us to “take up your daily cross” (Luke 9:23)?
        Christ truly had to deny himself, to humble himself continually, in order to submit to the Father's will. This constant struggle against the world and evil would be present in his daily life as a carpenter, later in his ministry of teaching and healing, while he endured the ridicule and hatred of those around him, and culminating at his Passion. In his agony at the Garden of Gethsemane, the night he was betrayed, he prayed “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done” (Luke 22:42 NRSVCE). In this prayer, the Church has recognized the presence of his two wills. She has understood that Christ's humanity was complete and full; his humility in becoming one of us was perfect, limiting himself unto weakness and lowliness. His struggle against trial and temptation was great, greater than anyone has endured, knowing full well who he was and what was to happen to him.
        Every drop of his blood, then, is not only precious because of his divinity, but also because of his great struggle over sin and death as a man. Let us not, then, commit the mistake of perceiving Christ as having won the fight before it started. Every day of his life, every moment of agony in the Garden, every step along the path to Calvary, carrying his cross, every tear shed in suffering was an act of enduring obedience to God the Father out of love. His will was not opposed to the Father's, but he had to submit his will to the Father's. Through his constant devotion of love to the Father, he was able to conquer the entire world, to conquer sin, to overcome all suffering and even death. And by his obedience in suffering, he was made perfect.
        Let us take part in his perfected humanity that he shares with us. If we unite our own sufferings with his – all of our trials and temptations, cares and concerns – we can conquer victoriously over all things in the world, even death. There is nothing that can separate us from his love. There is nothing that Christ the King of kings can not conquer through us and in us. Take heart; we are his vessels, carrying about in our bodies his death, so that his life may be abundant through us and our joy may be complete. Let us cherish his flesh and his blood given for us this day.

The Witness of Marriage

         In the beginning of human history, the natural phenomenon of marriage arose. We are all witnesses to its source, readily seen in nature and perceived through reason. There is a natural ecology to marriage, which when followed to its fullest potential has the power to beckon us to a sanctified purpose and to the highest love. Self-giving and sacrifice are at the heart of the bond of marriage. In proper order, that same ecology can bring health and peace, not only to ourselves, but also to the whole world through enduring love.

         The ability to procreate, two sexes in union creating new life, was the means of successively keeping the human race growing and, eventually, to survive. Sex itself was and is the positive means by which humans participate in the creative act. The mutual giving of one's self, in complementarity, brings forth the most beautiful of all creatures, a new human life, endowed with a soul. Love, being the service by self-giving, is not unfruitful. The true loving union of two who give of themselves fully, between equal and complementary parts, gives birth to life. True love is creative.

         The principal purpose of sex, then, is for the creation of new life. This is obvious from all of nature by any simple scientific observation. We have reduced sex in our western culture, though, simply to a source of pleasure, as though it were a biological necessity to experience physical ecstasy on a regular basis for the survival of each individual. The holy virgins of the Church prove us wrong by their lives of consecration, setting themselves aside for their singular devotion to the Lord, simultaneously giving witness to the sacred purpose of sex and of family. When sex is not open to its inherent purpose of begetting new life, then sex is only a mimicking of its truth, and the parties withhold of their full selves.

         That new life, given to us as a little baby, is the immediate proof of two individuals who gave of themselves, one to the other in love, even if for one brief instant. (Of course, we are perplexed and distraught when a child is the product of abuse against the capability to love, though the child is still proof of a mother's love and her life giving capacity). We expect, as society, for that child to be provided for its safety, protection and provision of food, shelter and love. It has been scientifically proven that infants will die without human interaction, without the regular touch of another human. The nurturing touch of a mother is especially crucial in the healthy development of her children. The beautiful gift of life demands the responsibility of committed love.

         This fruitful union between male and female, then, requires a permanency if it is to fulfill its full end, that is, to beget new life and to nurture it into full growth—socially, physically and spiritually healthy. There is a special responsibility on the part of the parents to lovingly care for those children for as long as needed. The sustainability of the family unity is crucial for the well-being of the children, as well as the parents themselves. There is no doubt that care for a child, and especially multiple children, is the work of two adults, as opposed to one. There is also no doubt that fidelity and consistency is a crucial part of relationship building and social skills for forming healthy children and adults. Unless the father and mother are ravenous, violent and deeply disordered individuals, it is always better to have the biological parents to care for their biological children, whenever possible.

         Thus, the natural origin of marriage as a permanent union between one male and one female arose at the first child's conception. Marriage is a necessity, as a human societal construct, for the good of all children. It is a necessity for the stability of society itself, to properly care for one another and to ensure the proper growth of the human race. The indissolubility of marriage is essential to its function of responsibility, just as the union of sexual complementarity is essential to its function of procreation. The dignity of marriage, then, proceeds from the great responsibility and gift of life.

         Let us not neglect, however, the spiritual component of the sexual act and, therefore, marriage itself. Humans are not reducible to flesh and blood, eggs and seeds or, worse, to reproductive parts or the pleasure derived in their use. Instead, we have emotions, intellects, wills and spirits. The giving of our individual self, with the capacity to beget life in our own image, is one of the greatest vulnerabilities and intimacies of our human existence. Of course, our entire being will be drawn into such an act. To perform this act in any way contrary to the necessary dignity of marriage is to participate fully in the “throw-away” or disposable culture about which Pope Francis so often speaks. We give up part of our spirit, our will, our own dignity whenever we participate in sex that is contrary to the full dignity of marriage, open to the power of life and its responsibilities. In that way, we dispose of our own selves, degrading and destroying ourselves in an effort of self-gratification. True love does not partake in destruction of the human person.

         The fullness of marriage, then, is realized only in the full and faithful mutual self-giving, within the context of the great possibility of its rightful, blessed, life-giving consequences. The whole ecology of the human person demands the dignity of such a relationship, as well as the whole ecology of human society. To violate the bounds of marriage is to harm the individuals involved, to harm children, and to harm society. The state of marriage and the act of self-giving in marriage through sex is sacred.

         For this reason, Christ elevated marriage to a new and sanctified level. As the Catholic Church is witness to it, Christ instituted marriage as a sacrament for all Christians. By making vows to one another, each Christian spouse partakes in the grace of God to fulfill a vocation for the purpose of being a sign in the world and to one another of Christ's own love. “'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.' This is a great mystery, and I am applying it to Christ and the church' (Eph. 5:31-32 NRSVCE). The holy matrimony of two Christians, becoming one flesh, is the efficacious sign of Christ being one flesh, one spirit, with his bride, the Church. It is an indissoluble covenant relationship. Through this sacrament, Christ imparts his grace to the spouses and to the family, to the children begotten through such love. The sanctification of the spouses, as well as others, is the main effect of the sacrament of holy matrimony. By it, love abounds more and more.

You Witnesses

         You may be a Christian and reading this now. Perhaps you have witnessed in your own country a degrading of marriage in many ways. Especially in the western world, we have witnessed a breakdown of the rightful purpose of marriage, as well as its natural and spiritual effects. Perhaps you have witnessed a legalization of divorce and remarriage, premarital or extramarital sex being promoted, contraception being used to hinder the natural, life-giving blessings of sex, or homosexuality being promoted or legalized in some way. Perhaps you are wondering what to do now, or perhaps you believe you already know what to do. Some of you are honest, gentle and loving people, knowing that the Lord requires us to “act justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8). Some of you are sorely mistaken in your concept of love, which in reality is the perfect blending of mercy and justice, the two not being opposed.

         Let us not be confused of our own Christian duties: we must love. The greatest commandment is to love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. The second is to love your neighbor as your self (Mark 12:28-31). In the context of marriage and family, we must first love our families. We must show obedience and patience to our parents; we must submit ourselves to our spouses in long-suffering faithfulness and kindness; we must be merciful and gentle with our children, teaching them and providing for their needs. If we cannot love within our own home, then it means little to love those outside our homes. We must seek the highest good of those in our families at all times, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.

         Then, we must love those neighbors not within our families. We do this by humble service to all, first recognizing our own need of God's grace and mercy, so that we may impart it to others. Jesus taught us to love everyone the same. “And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you,” he taught (Matt. 5:41-42 NRSVCE). Later, he gave us a new commandment, which requires us to give entirely of ourselves for one another, as Christ gave up his own life for us (John 13:34). We must continually humble ourselves before others, so as to imitate Christ and to to walk in the Spirit. So, the Scriptures tell us, “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble” and, also, “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy” (1 Pet. 5:5; Matt. 5:7 NRSVCE).

         If you believe that by condemning someone you live the life of Christ, then you are sorely mistaken. We will only live the life of Christ by seeking the lost, healing the broken-hearted, feeding the hungry, sheltering the poor, caring for the sick and clothing the naked. It is in dying that we are born to eternal life. If we do not carry the death of Jesus in our bodies, then we will never have the life of Jesus in our mortal flesh (2 Cor. 4:10). Therefore, we should look to those who have gone before us in our Catholic faith. We should look to the confessors and martyrs who have loved God above all else and others more than their own lives, giving of themselves until there was nothing left to give. St. Maximilian Kölbe was one of them, giving his life in the place of another in Auschwitz. Pope John Paul II called him a “martyr of charity.” There is no greater love. Like the Great Physician, we should go out to be with those effected by the sickness of sin and death. We must honor everyone more than ourselves. We must go to the outcast, the deserted, the abandoned. We must love all with the unquenchable, infinite and compassionate desire that Christ has for all human souls. Then, and only then, will love win.

O God, I have fallen short of many things, especially your glory.

I have sinned through my own fault, my most grievous fault.

Yet, you have come to save, not to condemn.

You have come to set captives free and to heal the brokenhearted.

I have been such a captive, and you will have nothing less than my freedom.

Grant me, O God, the grace to live the life of love to which you have called us.

Let there be none who escapes your love through me.

Let there be not one soul to whom I am neighbor that does not see your heart,

pierced through for infinite love and oceans of mercy awaiting them.

May your love, which is like the mighty mountains, strengthen our marriages.

May your faithfulness, which extends to the heavens, stretch out to meet our families.

May fathers, mothers and children act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with you.

May your Spirit fill our hearts, pouring out your grace to fulfill our purpose.

Holy, holy, holy is your name.

May you sanctify us in body and soul, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Amen.

Immaculate one, Mother of the Redeemer, pray for us.

St. Joseph, pray for us.

Sts. Peter and Paul, pray for us.

St. Maximilian Kölbe, pray for us.

St. John Paul II, pray for us.

St. John XXIII, pray for us.

St. Therese of Lisieux, pray for us.

St. Jude, pray for us.

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On the Rosary

        One of the greatest blessings that I have received in becoming Catholic is the prayer of the Rosary. To many, it may seem like some foreign rambling of memorized words, eagerly attempting to say enough prayers to enter into heaven or work one's way into bonus points of holiness with God. The Rosary, however, is a treasure of wealth for us to grow deeper in our faith, to increase our hope, and to follow the path of love. Incarnate in this outward prayer, come to us in words and beads, is a divine grace, reaching our hearts through supplication, meditation and contemplation. Through the Rosary, all things can be conquered.

        Firstly, the Rosary begins with what Catholics call an “act of faith” – the Apostle's Creed: “I believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord...” If we say this Creed with our whole heart and mind, we find that it calls us back to the reality of God and his salvation; of the Christ and his resurrection, his life in the flesh that he now lives; that the Holy Spirit is with us; that we are one in the Church spanning heaven and earth; that we can be forgiven; that Christ will return to judge the deeds of all. These are weighty objects of knowledge and faith. By renewing our mind through the Creed, we place ourselves in right posture towards God and neighbor.

        Secondly, we prayer the Our Father. The Our Father is the greatest of all prayers, given to us by the Lord himself. This single prayer contains all that we will ever need in prayer, and continues our daily relationship with God. We praise him. We glorify him. We ask pardon and peace. We ask for his provision for our whole being, and to heal us, setting right our paths. Through this single prayer, our whole Christian life is summarized, and we are sustained. By this prayer, we know of the Father's love for us, wayward children; we know his gentle and merciful heart; we know his perfect desires for us his children.

        Next, the Hail Mary constitutes the bulk of the Rosary. This small prayer, though, is meant to carry us through our Christian life. By it, we are called to meditate on the life of Christ through Mary's eyes. Through it, we take part in the voice of the Spirit and the angels of God: “Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you,” was Archangel Gabriel's message to her from the Lord. “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb,” the Spirit of the Lord cried out through St. Elizabeth, her cousin. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. He is the all in all. He is the Alpha and the Omega. He humbled himself and became man. The Word became flesh. This is the pinnacle of human history, at the moment of these words of the Lord! Of course we should repeat them again and again, just as the “Holy, holy, holy!” And then comes the petition for our Mother's prayers – her intercession. “The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective” (James 5:16). Advocata! Immaculata! Mater Dei! We find abundance of grace through her intercession.
        Finally, we close each section of the Rosary with the exultation to the Lord in his glory: “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now and shall be forever.” By this prayer, we enter into the praise of the angels and saints. In this prayer, we find peace and contentment, despite whatever suffering or trial we may be going through. If we can sincerely pray this prayer in any circumstance, we will always be open to the joy of the Lord.

        Yet, even after these wonderful prayers, the Rosary grows deeper and provides so much more. The substance of the Rosary is in the life of Christ and in his Gospel. The Rosary is broken up into fifteen mysteries, twenty if one includes Pope St. John Paul II's Luminous mysteries. These mysteries are the life of Christ, walking alongside him with Mary, as we do in Scripture, through her eyes.

        By meditating on the life of Christ, we meditate on the true Word of God. Joshua 1:8 reads, “This book of the law shall not depart out of your mouth; you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to act in accordance with all that is written in it. For then you shall make your way prosperous, and then you shall be successful” (NRSVCE). If by meditating on the law of God we become prosperous in our ways, how much more by meditating on the fulfillment of that law in Person – Jesus? The Word made flesh to take into our minds and our hearts, he becomes our nourishment – a continuation of the Eucharistic feast.

        For me, by praying the Rosary, I have grown deeper and deeper in love with Jesus. Through the Rosary, I have witnessed the wisdom of God through Mary and the Son of God. Their perfect obedience, their purity, their humility, their patience, their forbearance, their meekness, their endurance, their trust, their faith, their hope, and their unfathomable love: all of these have become pearls or sweet honey to me. Through this precious prayer and meditation, Jesus and Mary have infused grace into my soul, strengthening me to, like Mary says, “do whatever He tells you” (John 2:5). They have provided a way out of temptations, granted peace to my anxious heart, imparted wisdom to my broken mind, gifted humility (however small it may still be), and shared the unceasing Love, ever increasing my desire for he who is the source of all my being and all my life, all my hope.

        If you have not prayed the Rosary, I highly recommend finding out how to pray it and start praying. Mary will teach you how to pray by it. And you will begin to conquer many things. If you are lacking in any part of the Christian life, you will grow by leaps and bounds. It is a very good thing to pray five decades each day, following the pattern given by the Church: the Joyful Mysteries on Mondays and Saturdays, the Sorrowful Mysteries on Tuesdays and Fridays, the Glorious Mysteries on Wednesdays and Sundays, and the Luminous Mysteries on Thursdays. By praying through these mysteries, you will meditate on the entire life of Christ, from his conception to his glorification and sharing of his gifts with his Mother and the Church, his bride. To pray the traditional Joyful, Sorrowful and Glorious Mysteries all at one sitting or during a walk is extremely beneficial to the soul, as well. I cannot recommend enough trying this at least once, if not as much as daily. There really does not seem to be a better way to heed the call of St. Paul in his epistle to the Philippians: “Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things” (4:8 NRSVCE). Thanks be to God for such a gift, the gift of the Holy Rosary!

The One to Seek Is Mercy

        Jesus, you call us to your infinite mercy. St. Thomas Aquinas says that your mercy is your greatest attribute, for it manifests your infinite perfection, and your infinite abundance and generosity. You have no need to love us, nor give to us any good thing; for, we are deserving only of the justice due our sins. But the Father, through you, had deigned to forgive us our faults, and still lavish upon us more gifts. Therein lies your mercy -- in you, your Person, Agnus Dei, the Lamb of God.         
        May we come to trust in your mercy as little children, not without fault, but knowing full-well our absolute need of you. For it is in your Person that we have become sharers in the divine nature, sharers in eternal life, sharers in your sacrificial life for our salvation and of the whole world. In you, we have been gifted grace upon grace, as St. John wrote in his Gospel. In you, we have received redemption from the realm of slavery to the realm of justice and freedom, of friendship with God our Creator. In you, we have received the hope of perfection; by your wounds we are healed. All of your works are done in mercy.
        Do not, O Lord, let us forget that your mercy is not merely a forgetfulness of our sin, but an abundance given of what we do not deserve, in order to restore us to justice. You would not have it simply that our sins be forgiven and our wretchedness remain, but you have created us as new creations. In your mercy, we are made true and good. We, by your grace through your Cross and Resurrection, have been redeemed and been given light; we, therefore must be children of mercy, spreading your abundance and good-will to all. For if we do not forgive our debtors, we cannot be forgiven. If we do not show mercy, no mercy can be shown to us, since we would not allow the gift of God to live in us and through us, since we would dare to refuse the gift of justice to another.
        When we had separated ourselves from you, and remained incapable of returning, you stretched out your arms in compassion to draw us back to yourself. When we were dark and void, you breathed in us new life and order. "Let there be light." It is no longer we who live, but you who live in us. There is no depth to which your mercy cannot reach. "Seek my face," you say, O Lord. Your face Lord I will seek. Can we seek any other, when in all else there is no rest nor peace? May we constantly turn to your infinite mercy. Jesus, have mercy.


Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

Jesus, I trust in you. +

Sainthood: A Call to Trust and Hope

            The weight of the call to holiness that Christ and his Church make to each and every Christian is very, very heavy. It is the weight of glory. There are too many, though, who stare in the face of evil, and tremble in fear or falter under the false humility of despair. The reality of evil for Christians poses a great responsibility, a free choice of life or death. The alternative to evil, though, poses the possibility of the greatest heights of love, beyond any human capability. The call to be saints is a call to trust and to hope.

            In the fourteenth chapter of St. Matthew’s gospel, we read the story of Jesus walking on water. At first sight, the disciples were afraid, because they believed Jesus to be a ghost on the sea. Jesus’ response, though, was, “It is I; do not be afraid.” Peter replied, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” And so Jesus called Peter out on the water, “Come.” Miraculously, Peter could walk on water, too. Just one problem: Peter started to notice the wind, the storm, and to look to himself. He began to sink. Suddenly, Peter called out to Jesus, “Save me!” The Lord grabbed a hold of him and pulled him back up, while saying, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” (14:22-33)

            We should not read this story and think to ourselves, “If only I could muster up enough faith, then I could be perfect or like the saints.” No, this story is to remind us of our great need for Christ. Like Peter, we really have nothing in and of ourselves to perform the impossible. We are often tempted to look at ourselves and see our brokenness, our frailty or our faults. Yet, instead of looking to ourselves, or the storm around us, we should look “to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame” (Hebrews 12:2 NRSVCE). We must, like Peter, keep our trust in Jesus, and not in ourselves. “Jesus, I trust in you,” should be our constant prayer, as St. Faustina taught us.

            The Church and her Scriptures teach us plainly that obedience to Christ, to love God and to love our neighbor, are not only our duty, but also our way of remaining friends with Jesus, to enter into everlasting life (Matt. 19:17; John 3:36). So, Jesus could say all of the following:

“Do not be astonished at this; for the hour is coming when all who are in their graves will hear his voice and will come out – those who have done good, to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil, to the resurrection of condemnation” (John 5:28-29 NRSVCE). “If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love” (John 15:10 NRSVCE). “You are my friends if you do what I command you” (John 15:14 NRSVCE).

Jesus is calling us to a life of love, a life of complete joy. He wants what is best for us, and is calling us to our greatest possibilities.

Jesus, despite his high calling for us, does not want us to be afraid. He does not want us to live in fear of “breaking commandments” and “going to hell.” A lot of Christians grew up hearing things like this: “If you don’t obey your parents … If you don’t go to church … if you aren’t a good boy, you’ll go to hell.” Well, we know these to be sayings to try to scare children into being good. These sayings, though, are very lopsided. They only tell part of and a very skewed version of truth. On the other side of these commands is a loving God, who wants to give us all good things, now and for eternity.  He does not want us to be afraid. “It is I; be not afraid.” With his grace, all things are made possible: “for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline” (2 Tim. 1:7 NRSVCE).

In the story of Peter walking out to Jesus on water, there is one other thing we must realize. That is, Jesus calls us to hope. Before Peter even began to walk out on water, he asked Jesus to command him to come. In his request there was hope that he could be like Christ. Just as Jesus commanded Peter, “Come,” he calls us, too, to a greater hope by following him. He calls us to a hope of glory, desiring us to become like him, restored to fullness in him. So, St. Paul wrote, “I pray that … you may come to know him, so that with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe …” (Eph. 1:17-19 NRSVCE). Having a hope that one day we will be fully like him, St. John reiterated the call: “All who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure” (1 John 3:3 NRSVCE).

Because God’s idea of perfection is love, this means several things for our journey. First, we should protect ourselves against scrupulosity, being overly concerned about minor faults, things that may not even be sinful. The Church has always taught us that no one can live without daily faults, which are an effect of our broken nature. We also must remember what St. John wrote, “All wrongdoing is sin, but there is a sin that is not mortal” (1 John 5:17 NRSVCE). What we mean by being “holy” or “saintly” is to not completely turn away from love, to not kill charity within our souls. Being scrupulous about every imperfection will probably drive a person out of their mind. As for our daily faults, we must leave them in the hands of Christ, who takes away the sin of the world, while striving to become like him. We must seek the blamelessness of the saints throughout history and throughout the Scriptures, meaning that we fulfill the law of love towards God and our neighbor (Rom. 13:10).

There will be a spiritual battle, no doubt. We do not mean to say that the Christian life is not difficult in any way. The Catechism teaches us that “the way of perfection passes by way of the Cross. There is no holiness without renunciation and spiritual battle” (CCC, 2015). But if God, who did not spare his own Son in order to justify us, who has given us the Most Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist for nourishment on our journey, who has given us the sacrament of reconciliation for healing and peace, for strengthening and for forgiveness along the way, and especially who has given the outpouring of his Spirit into our hearts upon our Confirmations … if He is for us, who or what can be against us? We must hope, then, in Christ and trust him who is Love itself. For he has great plans for us.

“Now to him who is able to keep you from falling, and to make you stand without blemish in the presence of his glory with rejoicing, to the only God our Saviour, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, power, and authority, before all time and now and for ever. Amen” (Jude 24-25 NRSVCE).

Common Sense Catholicity Item #3: Purgatory Is Not a Second Chance

            Floating around out there in the realm of mythology about Catholic doctrine is one saying that gets thrown around like loose change in a washing machine. The saying is repeated over and over again, and those who spread it to unsuspecting believers have seemingly never taken the opportunity to hear out what Catholics actually believe. The saying goes like this: “Catholics believe that there is always Purgatory, if this life isn’t enough to get to heaven; Purgatory is the belief in a second chance.”

            Well, unfortunately for everyone, the Catholic Church does not teach that there are “second chances” after death. “Death puts an end to human life as the time open to either accepting or rejecting the divine grace manifested in Christ,” reads the Catechism of the Catholic Church (1021). The Church also affirms her Scriptures as inerrant, in which we read “… it is appointed for mortals to die once, and after that the judgement …” (Heb. 9:27 NRSVCE). Once we die, we are judged as being in friendship with God or not, being in his grace or not, abiding in love or not. Those who die outside of God’s grace are forever separated from him by their own free choice (CCC, 1033). Those who die in God’s grace go on to full communion with God forever (CCC, 1023-1024).

Common Sense Catholicity: Purgatory Is Not a Second Chance

            What, then, is “Purgatory” about? Very simply, the Church teaches that for those who die in God’s grace and who are assured of Heaven, yet are still imperfect will need some purification before entrance into the eternal kingdom, into the presence of God (CCC, 1030). This purification is what the Church calls “Purgatory;” it is a purgation or purification.

            Even without very much thought, we can see why this is needed. We often witness that even those true believers who live according to God’s law of love may die still having some small sins in their life. Most of us will die without reaching an actual holiness that perfectly resembles Christ’s; we won’t be perfectly “like Christ” just before we die. Yet, we know, too, that we will be perfected. In that moment, we will stop being the sinners that we are now, and will never commit a sin again. So, we can safely deduce that there will be some sort of process in which our souls are cleansed of these faults and by which we are brought to the actual holiness of Christ, by him and through him.

            The prophet Isaiah recounts a story or, rather, a vision that he had at one time.  At least part of this vision seems to be a prefiguring of Purgatory itself. We find the story in Isaiah, chapter 6. In the vision, he is brought before the throne of God.  There, he sees angels proclaiming the holiness of God: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory” (v. 3) Immediately, Isaiah is overcome by his own lack of holiness in the presence of God: “I am a man of unclean lips,” he says (v. 5). In response to this imperfection, a purification as through fire takes place:

Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. The seraph touched my mouth with it and said: ‘Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out’ (v. 6-7 NRSVCE).

           

            Of course, there are other reasons to believe in Purgatory, beyond the obvious one mentioned above. The other major reason that the Church declares Purgatory to be true is due to the fact that the people of God have always prayed for the dead. The Jews prior to Christ prayed for the dead. This is evident in 2 Maccabees 12:44, in which prayers were offered for the righteous who had died, looking forward to the resurrection. The Jews even today still hold the practice of praying for the dead. The Christian people simply continued the same practice, as is evident in many early Christian writings. This is why Hebrews 12:23 speaks of “the spirits of the righteous made perfect.” If there is no Purgatory, then there is no need for the people of God to pray for the dead.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. Amen. +

Common Sense Catholicity Item #2: Jesus Spoke with Saints, Too

            One of those really weird things that Catholics supposedly do is talk to the dead. Yep, we talk to the dead. We don’t conjure up the dead. We don’t cast spells and incantations, pull out the tarot cards, consult mediums and witches or use Ouija boards. All this would be sorcery and magic, which the Church explicitly condemns, as you might guess from all of the exorcism movies and books that come out, in which stories there is always inevitably a Catholic priest who attempts to exorcise the demons from any given person or house. No, we let the Holy Spirit do all of the wiring for us, per se. (Telephone wiring, that is). We communicate only by means of the Holy Spirit.

            Often times, Catholics request the prayers of the Saints who are in the presence the Lord. We might ask for their intercession on behalf of others or for ourselves, for healing and for the Spirit’s guidance or protection. We might speak with loved ones for whom we have reasonable hope of their dying in the grace of God. While some perceive this as a form of idolatry (“prayer can only be directed to God,” they might say), Catholics see it as a normal continuation of what we call “the Communion of Saints.”

By that term, all we really mean is that those who die in Christ, do not perish at all, but are alive all the more. In that sense, Catholics takes John 3:16 seriously: “whosoever believes will not perish.” We believe that once a member of the Body of Christ, and dying in God’s grace, always a member of Christ’s body. And so, “the eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you’” (1 Cor. 12:21 NRSVCE). We also believe that, as Christ said of the Father, “Now he is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive. (Luke 20:38 NRSVCE)” Their life in Christ does not end, nor does their purpose within the Body of Christ.

Common Sense Catholicity Item #2: Jesus Spoke with Saints, Too

As Catholics, we hold the belief that Jesus was fully divine and fully human, all built into one Person. We also believe that Jesus remained completely sinless. These truths mean that at any given time while Jesus was in the flesh (and is in the flesh), he did not and could not commit any error. In that way, anything that he did, we can know that it was free of sin and is worthy of imitation. Only his declaring himself equal and one with the Father, for us, would be considered sinful to imitate; for him, it was just a matter of telling the truth.

It just so happens that one of the things Jesus did, while in the flesh, was to speak with the dead. He did not conjure up their spirits, or use any power above his human nature to speak with them. He merely climbed up a mountain and met Moses and Elijah there to speak with them.

Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. (Luke 9:28-32 NRSVCE)

From the sound of Luke’s story, Jesus had an ongoing conversation with Moses and Elijah, and it did not seem as though they had just awoken from some great slumber, unaware of Jesus’ mission and life on earth. No, instead it seems as though they had spoken with Jesus before about his mission. That’s just speculation. But what we do know is that Jesus spoke with the Saints who had already died, and yet were alive in God. Jesus did this in the flesh, under the law (as St. Paul put it), as one of us, yet sinless.

Perhaps the natural inclination to speak with our dearly departed, quietly before their casket or gravesite is not so strange after all. Perhaps speaking with those who have gone on to be with Christ is a natural act of the heart, which knows the truth. The heart knows the truth that we should be one in Christ, and if in grace are certainly one in Christ, alive and united by the Spirit. Christ destroyed death when he rose again nearly 2,000 years ago. Won’t you let him destroy death in your life, too?