All About the Heart

(But) take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them . . When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you . . . When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners so that others may see them . . . When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites (Matthew 6:1-18).

It’s all about the heart. Always has been. God is far less concerned about our outward religion than He is about our interior faith. That’s one reason He castigated the Israelites, “What care I for the number of your sacrifices? . . . Your new moons and festivals I detest; they weigh me down, I tire of the load. When you spread out your hands, I close my eyes to you; Though you pray the more, I will not listen. Your hands are full of blood! Wash yourselves clean! Put away your misdeeds from before my eyes; cease doing evil” (Isaiah 1:11-16).

Centuries later, the Lord faced the same attitude in some Pharisees who enjoyed the homage of those in the  synagogue, the deference of the average citizen, and to be honored guests at special dinners, but their hearts were full of robbery, deceit and uncleanness (Matthew 23:7,27).

And so, as I read that passage in Matthew 23, I wondered how often the Lord Jesus encounters similar attitudes among some of His children today. Whether praying, worshiping, and especially receiving the Eucharist, I suspect God is as unhappy with modern-day worship without a commensurate change of heart as He was in Isaiah’s day.

God hasn’t changed. He still looks for people with an interior faith, who perform religious acts for no other motive other than they love God and want to please Him by their obedience. 

It’s all about the heart. Always has been. Always will be. 

Our Anchor

For whatever was written previously was written for our instruction, that by endurance and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope (Romans 15:4).

I have read many times through the book of Ezekiel. And just about each time I read chapter 37, my spirit lifts. It’s the “Dry Bones” chapter. You might want to take time to read it because God has a message there for you and me.

Have despair and hopelessness, those twins of darkness, ever gripped your gut so tightly you thought you couldn’t breathe? If you haven’t yet experienced it, you likely will. Sometimes life can be ferocious, and not many escape its fury. An accident or sudden illness takes a beloved spouse or child. They’re gone before we can say, “I love you,” one last time. A natural disaster wipes away everything we own. A fire chars a lifetime of expectations and memories.

We can see the Twins each night in the faces of men and women as their stories unfold on TV. We can hear them say it, perhaps not as eloquently as Ezekiel, but as unmistakably: “Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off”'  (Ezekiel 37:11)

But even in the devastation, is our hope gone? Are we cut off forever from God? Read this chapter and discover what Israel discovered: God breathes life into dead bones. No matter how tight the Twins’ grip, when our hope rests squarely on the Lord’s mercy, tragedy cannot crush us. Disaster cannot destroy us. In this world we will certainly have tribulation. But we can take courage. Christ has overcome the world. 

That’s not simply a nice platitude. It is our sure anchor.

When Shall We Be Salt Again?

For the name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles because of you . . . “ (Romans 2:24). 

You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt has become tasteless . . . it is good for nothing anymore, except to be thrown out and trampled under foot by men (Matthew 5:13).

With the moral decay sweeping America nearly at sonic speed, and the stunning silence of Christian leaders in general, and of Catholic leaders in particular, this Vatican document should raise a critical question in our hearts: Specifically, don’t we realize our silence – even (God forbid!) our tacit approval in the face of such moral depravity – is a great scandal? And our failure to stand for righteousness a stench in the nostrils of God?

Here is a portion of that Church document titled, Gaudium et Spes,  Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World Second Vatican Council, 1965

Paragraph 19 – Kinds of Atheism and Its Causes

19 .  . . .  Without doubt those who willfully try to drive God from their heart and to avoid all questions about religion, not following the dictates of their conscience, are not free from blame. But believers themselves often share some responsibility for this situation. For, in general, atheism is not present in people's minds from the beginning. It springs from various causes, among which must be included a critical reaction against religions and, in some places, against the Christian religion in particular. Believers can thus have more than a little to do with the rise of atheism. To the extent that they are careless about their instruction in the faith, or present its teaching falsely, or even fail in their religious, moral, or social life, they must be said to conceal rather than to reveal the true nature of God and of religion.  (Underline is my emphasis)

While we spend our time debating philosophy and social justice issues, our world is putrefying around us. And multiple millions of souls are being lost.

Forever.

Isn’t it time for laity and leaders to stand for Christ, become salt of the earth, and stop the madness? For if we do not, the second part of Christ’s warning will be the sure result.

Nourishment for the Battle

How sweet are Your words to my taste! Yes, sweeter than honey to my mouth! (Ps 119:103)


It will help if you read the entire chapter of 1 Samuel 14 to get a good handle on the context. Israel was in the midst of a war against their long-time oppressors, the Philistines. Through miraculous intervention, many Philistines fell in the ensuing battles, but for reason known only to King Saul, he ordered his army not to eat anything until they’d completely beaten their enemy. Jonathan, Saul’s son, hadn’t heard the command.

We pick up this story in verse 28:

“Then one of the soldiers told him, "Your father bound the army under a strict oath, saying, 'Cursed be any man who eats food today!' That is why the men are faint." Jonathan said, "My father has made trouble for the country. See how my eyes brightened when I tasted a little of this honey. How much better it would have been if the men had eaten today some of the plunder they took from their enemies. Would not the slaughter of the Philistines have been even greater?"


The following analogy is not perfect, but close enough to give us reason to pause. Scripture is clear about the deadly battle Christians face every day of our lives. And it is equally clear we do not fight this raging war against flesh and blood, put against spiritual forces (see, for example, Ephesians 6). Scripture also tells us weapons of steel and iron are useless in this fight. We must use spiritual weapons against a spiritual foe (see 2 Corinthians 10).

Satan, our long-time spiritual oppressor, knows if we don’t nourish ourselves on spiritual food, we'll become weakened and unable to effectively fight the good fight. That’s why he deceives us into believing we don’t need the daily honey of Scripture, along (of course) with prayer, proper disposition to the Sacraments, and frequent fellowship with other Christians.

Truth is, if anyone tells us we do not need to read the Scriptures, to study them, memorize them, imbibe them, they are not speaking God's truth and are -- whether innocently or purposefully -- putting us at risk for spiritual injury, imprisonment and even death.

The Psalmist said, “Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34). So reader, pick up your Bible and read. Gain your nourishment for the daily battle.

Can Canned Prayers be Spiritual?

I wrote this several years ago. I thought it good to post it here.
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. . . Lord, teach us to pray . . .  (Luke 11:1)

I don't know how I lived in such embarrassing ignorance about prayer for so long. For the first thirty-two years of my Christian walk I believed the only prayers God really listens to are spontaneous, unique and unformatted prayers. I also believed those who recite scripted prayers - for example, prayers from books – did little more than mouth empty words.

Yes, I really believed that. And that is why I am grateful for the question that toppled one of my longest held prejudices like the stone in Goliath's forehead.

I had just finished thanking God for my lunch when the thought poked at me: "Did you mean what you just said?" The question me off guard and I rehearsed the prayer in my mind: "Lord, I thank you for this food. Bless it to my body for health, that I might serve."

Yes, I meant it. I was still unsure why the Lord asked it, but when the next question filtered through my mind "How often do you pray that prayer?" I knew precisely where He was taking me. I use those same words - or words very similar -- each time I sit down to eat. Day after day.

Then the Lord pressed forward, "What choruses did you sing last Sunday morning?"

As I began to list them I realized choruses are prayers of adoration or supplication. Each time I sing those lyrics, week after week, I sing what could be considered ‘canned’ prayers.

That's when the stone in my forehead knocked me to my knees. Why had I believed scripted or "canned" prayers, like those in prayer books, are less meaningful than spontaneous ones? My mind raced to the Psalms. Jews and Christians have prayed them from the time of David. And what of those offered to God by spiritual giants of the Church such as  St. Augustine, St. Francis of Assisi, Charles Wesley and A. W. Tozer?

For example, when offered from my heart, doesn't Tozer's prayer carry
a sweet savor to the Father? I think so:

Lord, I have heard a good word inviting me to look away to You and
be satisfied. My heart longs to respond, but sin has clouded my vision
till I see You but dimly. Be pleased to cleanse me in Your own
precious blood, and make me inwardly pure, so that I may with unveiled
eyes gaze upon You all the days of my earthly pilgrimage.

Or this one by Wesley?:

I am no longer my own, but Yours. Put me to what You will, rank me
with whom You will; put me to doing, put me to suffering; let me be
employed for You or laid aside for You, exalted for You or brought low
for You; let me be full, let me be empty; let me have all things, let
me have nothing; I freely and heartily yield all things to Your
pleasure and disposal.

Or St. Augustine?:

Narrow is the mansion of my soul; [please] enlarge it, that You may
enter in. It is ruinous; [please] repair it. It has that within which must
offend Your eyes; I confess and know it. But who shall cleanse it? or
to whom should I cry, [except to] Thee? Lord, cleanse me from my secret
faults, and spare Thy servant from the power of the enemy.

Or St. Francis?:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let
me sow love, Where there is injury, pardon Where there is doubt, faith, Where there is despair, hope, Where there is darkness, light, Where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to
console, not so much to be understood as to understand, not so much to
be loved, as to love; for it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, it is in dying that we awake to eternal life.

As with spontaneous prayer, some ‘canned prayers’ can be exquisitely beautiful expressions of devotion and adoration of the Father.

Thirty-two years is a long time to have lived in error about something so important as prayer. I can only wonder what other foolish ideas cloud my vision of the Holy One - which is why I often now pray what I might have considered at one time a "canned" prayer:

Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, please give me a Spirit of wisdom and revelation so that I may know You better. I pray also that the eyes of my heart may be enlightened so that I may know the hope to which You have called me, the riches of Your glorious inheritance in the saints, and Your incomparably great power toward us who believe. (From Ephesians 1).

The Centurion

Then they brought Him to the place Golgotha, which is translated, Place of a Skull (Mark 15:22).

I haven’t slept for two days. His eyes still haunt me.

It began when the governor handed me the placard.“Nail it above his head when you’re done crucifying him” Pilate ordered. I smirked when I read it. “Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews.” 

Some ‘King,’ I thought.

I hated my assignment to this dung-hole called Palestine. I was hot, thirsty and dripping sweat when we finally reached the hilltop. And not a little angry.

We nailed him to the cross and hoisted it upright. He groaned as it rocked back and forth before settling into the hole we’d dug for it. I set soldiers around the site perimeter for protection, while I sat a few yards from the crosses. And watched. And waited.

And then remembered the placard.

I cursed under my breath, pushed myself to stand and grab a ladder. I didn’t care that the top rung bounced off his shoulder as I climbed toward the top. When I was at eye level I stopped, sneered at him and shoved the placard in front of his face.

“What d’ya think, Jew? Quite the king, are ya?”

I spit at him. My saliva dripped from his cheek and caught in his beard. How I despised that Jew.

And that’s when I saw his eyes. They didn’t look at me. They looked through me. Deep into my soul. I froze, unable to move or even look away. His eyes, they weren’t angry. Or vengeful. Or mean. They were, how can I describe it, they were – love. And sadness . . . sadness not for himself, but sad it seemed for me.

Love and sadness. For me?

We looked at each other a long time, until he seemed to free me from his gaze. I slowly climbed the last two rungs, hammered the placard above his head, and quickly descended. I avoided his eyes as I passed him.

An hour crawled into two. Then three. I wouldn’t look at him, except to steal a glance from time to time. But our eyes never locked again. They didn’t have to.

Four hours. Five. At the sixth hour he suddenly cried out so loudly, so sorrowfully, it startled me to my feet: “Eloi, Eloi, Lama Sabacthani.” Then he trumpeted a shout of  . . . of victory – more victorious than I’d ever heard even our most decorated soldiers shout on the battlefield. His words pierced the heavens: “It is finished.”

I watched him release his last breath, slump forward – his body held only by the nails – and die.

It was then I remembered his eyes. I still remember them.

And I knew, I know . . . “Surely, this man was the Son of God.”*

*Mark 15:39

Thank You for Carrying Your Cross

Therefore since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us ² and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith. For the sake of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God. Consider how he endured such opposition from sinners, in order that you may not grow weary and lose heart (Hebrews 12:1-3, NAB).

I heard the crowd’s angry shouts and curses before I saw them. As I drew closer, I watched them throw dirt in the air and shake their fists overhead.

Soldiers lined the road on either side to keep them at bay. I pushed through the mob to get a better look at the reason for the excitement. Then I saw him. The prisoner was bloodied worse than I’d ever remembered seeing others on their way to the Hill. In his case, someone had woven a thorn branch into a crown and jammed it into his forehead. Blood caked around his eyes and cheeks.

He stumbled under the weight of his cross, caught himself, took a few more steps, then fell headlong. The cross fell with him and bounced off his back with a dull thud. Two guards picked up the cross. Another pulled the prisoner erect and laid it back onto his shoulder.

From the jeers, I guessed him to be a terrible criminal. But I had business in the city, and so I began to push my way back into the crowd when a shout broke out again. I turned just in time to see the man fall once more to the dirt.

“You!”  A soldier pointed his spear at me. My stomach churned.

“Me?” I nearly whispered.

“Get over here,” he barked.

I froze.

“Hey! You deaf? Get over here!” He made a move toward me, but I hurried out of the crowd and went to him. He grabbed the cross from the ground, lifted it and shoved it at me.

“Carry this for him.”

I knew better than to argue. I laid the crossbeam across my right shoulder. Meanwhile, two other soldiers pulled the prisoner back to his feet and shoved him onward. I was thankful the cross came between him and my line of sight. I began walking toward the Hill alongside him.

“Thank you for carrying my cross,” I heard him say a moment later.

I didn’t answer. It wasn’t my idea to help him. If the soldier hadn’t ordered me, I’d have been on my way into Jerusalem.

“Thank you for carrying my cross,” he said again, a little louder.

“Listen,” I shot back. “This wasn’t my idea. The soldier made me do it.”

“I know,” he said. Then he added, kindly, “Thank you for carrying my cross.”

We walked in silence for a while. I tried to ignore the mob.

“Would you move the cross to your other shoulder so you can see me?”

But I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to be here. The less I participated in this cursed matter the better. And then I thought, “He’s about to die. What could it hurt?” So I readjusted the beam to my other shoulder. And I looked at him.

He smiled. And we continued toward the Hill.

We didn’t speak further. We just walked. Slowly. Every now and again we looked at each other. I remember his eyes. Kind. Gentle. Not at all what I would expect from so terrible a criminal.

Oddly, the burden on my shoulder seemed a little lighter the more often I looked at him.

When we at last reached the hilltop, two soldiers grabbed the cross from me. Two others threw the prisoner down onto the wood and prepared to hammer spikes into his flesh. I turned to leave, but before I could go, the man smiled at me and said once again, “Thank you for carrying my cross.”

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In my life experience I have often watched helplessly as life thrusts us against our will to carry a cross. Terrible sickness. Gut-ripping divorce. Unspeakable loneliness. Darkening depression. Agonized death of a beloved.

And there, in the cavernous recesses of our brokenness, we hear words that almost seem to mock us, “Thank you for carrying your cross.”

“Thank you?” we nearly shout. “Thank you? This is not my idea. I never wanted this cursed cross laid on my shoulders.”

“I know,” He answers. “Thank you for carrying your cross.”

For a while we walk in silence. The cross, heavy on our shoulders, obscures our view of the Lord.

“Will you look at Me?” He asks.

Some of us try to ignore Him. The cross hurts too badly. But some of us, in time, do look at Him. And our look becomes a gaze.

“Thank you for carrying your cross,” we hear Him whisper.

The burden never leaves. It lingers with each passing week, each passing year, year after year. But we discover as we journey together toward the New Jerusalem, the longer we gaze at Jesus, the lighter our burden seems.

Especially when we hear Him say from time to time, “Thank you for carrying your cross.”

Beyond Sizzlin' Steaks

I wrote this several years ago. I think it is good to revive it:
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Do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery . . . . (Galatians 5:1).

I can’t remember when I last paid attention to the Fourth of July celebration. The holiday was for me little more than a day off from work and an opportunity to invite friends to the house for barbecue. Its significance, and that of the Declaration of Independence, got lost decades ago in the busyness and near monotony of fighting traffic, paying bills, washing clothes, raising children, punching time clocks . . . .

I expect this year will be different. As I researched the circumstances surrounding what is perhaps the most important document in US history, I relearned why so many men and women gave their lives during the American Revolution. And I wondered why I, and so many other Americans, rarely read the words that set in motion the events which won our freedom.

In the early 1770s, King George of England reigned over the colonists with a severe and arbitrary fist. He forced them, under penalty of imprisonment, loss of property, or death, to house British troops in their homes. Court officials on the king’s payroll protected the soldiers from prosecution for any crime they committed, including murder. King George denied the colonists right to trial by jury. He enacted punitive taxation while refusing the colonists representation in decisions that affected them. He forced them, under penalty of death, into military service. The grievances cited in the Declaration roll on and on. I don’t know why they waited as long as they did before shouting, “Enough!”

The 56 signatories of the Declaration of Independence were not hoodlums looking for a fight. Twenty-four were attorneys or judges. Eleven were businessmen. Nine owned large tracts of land in an era when few people owned property. Each one had a lot to lose by opposing the King’s tyranny. But they had more to gain . . . if not for themselves then for those who would follow after.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident,” they wrote, “that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” And to wrest those God-given rights from the King’s clenched fist, they stood shoulder to shoulder “with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence,” pledging their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.

Their pledge proved costly. Most of them died in poverty. Many saw their families murdered or imprisoned.

As most people who’ve studied history know, sometimes the battle goes that way. Sometimes men and women endure horrendous sacrifices to win freedom for themselves and others, yet never see the results of their sacrifices. Only the generations that follow are privileged to enjoy them.

The Declaration of Independence gave birth to the United States of America. With all of our current problems, needs and tensions, we remain a nation blessed by the One upon whom the fifty-six signatories called to help their fight for freedom. This year would be a good time for all Americans to find copies of the document at public libraries. Or print their own at the following URL: http://www.archives.gov/exhibits/charters/declaration_transcript.html.

Then, as the steaks sizzle on the grill, gather the guests and family around the table and read the document aloud. It’ll only take a few minutes. But doing so might change the way many of us view life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And it might change the way we view the One in Whose hand those things ultimately reside.

Leaders in Troubled Times

. . . what sort of people ought you to be in holy conduct and godliness . . .  (2 Peter 3:11).

I have walked with Jesus for nearly 40 years. In those years I’ve learned a lot about leadership from my experiences as a naval officer, college teacher, and member of the Church.

One of the more important things I have learned is, everyone is a leader. No exceptions. Whether behind a lectern, or in front of a classroom, whether a janitor or bus driver, a parent or an office supply clerk – people watch us all the time, and therefore everyone leads someone in their sphere of influence. We influence them by our words and attitudes to do well – or to do poorly.

As moral change roils its way like a malignant cancer through our culture and even through the Church, what I long for perhaps more than anything else is godly leadership at every level and in every function within the Body of Christ.

And I’ve learned in those 40 years with Jesus what it takes to be great Christian leaders.

1. Be people of prayer. Our congregations desperately need Christian men and women to be intimately familiar with God. As Pope John Paul II said, “At no moment, and in no historical period, especially in an age so critical as ours, can the Church forget prayer. It is a cry to the mercy of God in the face of manifold forms of evil which weigh upon mankind, and threaten it.”

Within the framework of our prayer time with the Rosary, or the Divine Hours and other scripted prayers, I hope we will not neglect spontaneous prayers from our heart to God’s. I hope we will learn to talk with Him as our ‘Abba’- our daddy, that we will tell Him our thoughts, our disappointments, frustrations, joys, and sorrows. That we will tell Him our loneliness, our temptations, our failures.

“Virtues are formed by prayer,” wrote St. Ephraem. “Prayer preserves temperance. Prayer suppresses anger. Prayer prevents emotions of pride and envy. Prayer draws into the soul the Holy Spirit, and raises man to Heaven.”

We may be tempted to rush through our prayers to get on with the important affairs of our day. But we need to fight that temptation and refocus our heart on communing with God. King Solomon wisely observed, “If the iron becomes dull, though at first he made easy progress, he must increase his efforts" (Ecclesiastes 10:10). In other words, if we don’t keep our axe sharpened, we will spend unnecessary time and energy with things that would have otherwise been quicker and easier – and more fruitful.

2. Be a people thoroughly acquainted with the Word of God. Oh! how we need to know not only what we believe, but why we believe it. Oh, that we would take advantage of the many opportunities within our parishes to study God’s word. That we would learn and then relearn about the Sacraments, the Saints, and Sacred Tradition. That we would have soft hearts and pay close attention when our pastors tell us about God’s love . . . but also why we must avoid the things God calls sin. That we would become to one another as St. Paul who exhorted his young protégé St. Timothy to: "Proclaim the word; be persistent whether it is convenient or inconvenient; convince, reprimand, encourage through all patience and teaching."

Why did the he urge Timothy thus? He continued, "For the time will come when people will not tolerate sound doctrine but, following their own desires and insatiable curiosity, will accumulate teachers and will stop listening to the truth and will be diverted to myths" (2 Timothy 4:2-4).

We cannot become thoroughly familiar with God’s word unless we read it consistently, prayerfully, obediently. Two chapters in the morning and two in the evening – less than 15 minutes at each sitting – will get us through the New Testament three times every year and the Old Testament once in about 13 months. And in our reading, we ought not neglect memorizing God’s word. One verse a week will rack up 52 verses each year. That’s a lot of spiritual food for the Holy Spirit to use in our hearts to keep us walking toward that narrow gate. "Thy word have I hidden in my heart, wrote the Psalmist, that I might not sin against you" (Psalm 119:11).

3. Finally – at least for the purpose of this appeal that is already too long – be a people of true humility. "No man is an island, entire of itself, wrote 17th century poet and Anglican priest John Donne. Every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were . . . any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee."

If Donne’s words are true for humankind, how much more for the Church established by God? God has placed each of us, laity and ordained, janitors and bus drivers, teachers and kitchen help, parents and children – He has placed each of us within His body for the good of the body, and of the world.

Oh! May we have patience with one another and learn to listen to those who prove themselves wise in the things of Christ. As Solomon wrote: "The fear of the Lord is training for wisdom, and humility goes before honors" (Proverbs 15:33). And Blessed Giles of Assisi wrote: "No man can attain to the knowledge of God but by humility. The way to mount high is to descend."

We live in troubled times. If you and I are not good leaders who are part of the solution to those troubles, then we are poor leaders who are part of the problem.

What, then, will we be?

New Angels of Light

There is no salvation through anyone else, nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved (St. Peter in Acts 4:12).

Jesus said to [Thomas], "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).

For such men are false apostles, deceitful workers, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ. No wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light. Therefore it is not surprising if his servants also disguise themselves as servants of righteousness, whose end will be according to their deeds (2 Corinthians 11:13-15).

I recently learned of what was to me a new heresy circulating in Christian churches in Europe and America. It’s called Chrislam – an attempt to blend Christianity with Islam. Within the blending, Jesus is not worshiped as the divine Son of God. He is merely a great prophet, a wonderful moral teacher.

And a forerunner of the greater prophet, Muhammad.

According to reports, a growing number of churches and church leaders are telling their congregations Christianity and Islam are not only compatible, but that we share the same faith.

Actually, the theology inherent with Chrislam and propagated by those who call themselves Christians (aka, disciples of Jesus Christ), is not really new. Ever since the first century, false teachers have attempted to adulterate and dilute the proclamation of Jesus’ divinity as taught by all the New Testament writers and the Fathers of the Church – taught even to the point of their martyrdom in many cases.

In 325 A.D., one such group of early Church leaders met in the city of Nicea (in modern Turkey) to address a false doctrine being spread by another Church leader named Arius. The Nicene Creed is the result of that Church council.

As I mused about this latest surfacing of false teachers, I remembered an essay in one of my books based on the heresy known as Arianism. I am posting it today in hope that you will find it valuable:

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From the Nicene Creed: We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, one in being with the Father.

I remember Dr. Thomas. He was one of my college teachers who helped his class prepare for scheduled exams. He used to walk the aisles between our desks and review the information he expected us to know. As he spoke, he’d sometimes pause, clear his throat or make some other gesture to indicate what he’d just read was important. He never actually said, “This will be on the test,” but everyone knew, when Dr. Thomas gestured, we should pay attention.

Well, almost everyone. There were always a few students with other things on their minds – and they’d get the question wrong.

From the earliest days of the Church, people mixed heresies with the doctrines handed down by the Apostles. For example, in the early 4th century a renegade priest, Arius, rejected Church teaching regarding the deity of Christ. Arius believed Jesus was not co-eternal with the Father and was, therefore, inferior to the Father.

In 325 A.D., Church leaders met in council in Nicea (modern-day Turkey) to deal with the Arian heresy. The Council leaders knew that the wrong answer to the question of Jesus’ deity would inevitably spread through the Church’s understanding of sin, salvation, atonement, and forgiveness. Humanity’s eternal destiny was at stake.

To help the Church get the right answer, the Nicene Council responded in what I like to think of as the equivalent of clearing their throats. In this case, however, they also clapped their hands and blew a trumpet in a rising crescendo, as if to say, "Hey! Pay attention! This is really important."

So we couldn’t miss the point, the Fathers gave us the correct answer seven times in one sentence, proclaiming Jesus is: The only son of God; eternally begotten from the Father; God from God; Light from light; True God from True God; begotten, not made; one in being with the Father.

Yet, despite the seven-fold response, some got it wrong.

Some still do.

False teachers have always drawn men and women from Christian faith. That’s why Christ established His Church as the “pillar and foundation of truth” (1 Timothy 3:15).

When we recite the Nicene Creed, we join our faith with historic Christian doctrine dating back to the Apostles and preserved through apostolic succession. We have the opportunity to nurture that faith born in our hearts through the Holy Spirit, and instructed by the Church.

Who is Jesus? That’s an easy one, if we pay attention to the pillar and support of truth when it tells us who He is.

That's one test question we don’t want to get wrong.
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This essay is excerpted from my book, We Believe: Forty Meditations on the Nicene Creed. Click here for details.

Godly Watchmen and Women

Son of man, I have made you a watchman for the house of Israel; so hear the word I speak and give them warning from me (Ezekiel 33:7).


What gives us the right to be watchmen on the wall, to warn others of sin, judgment and righteousness? Is it rooted in our salvation through our faith in the blood of Christ? Is it anchored to His commandment that we go into all the world and proclaim the gospel?

Yes, of course. But that right is also linked to a responsibility, a responsibility to live the gospel we proclaim to others.

What good is it for the Kingdom if we warn others against adultery, but we connect to internet pornography? Can we admonish others to not steal if we rob God of His tithes? Do we pray, “Hallowed be Thy Name,” yet use that holy Name in jokes or as an expletive?

God doesn’t require perfection from us before we take our place on the wall. But He does expect us to walk in a manner worthy of our calling, to live humbly, modestly and godly so others have no good reason to mock the faith we proclaim.

May God please make us godly watchmen and women.

By Name

. . . and the sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out (John 10:3).


Jesus often went out of his way to teach the crowds about the one lost sheep, the lost coin, the lost son. He left the throng to find the one demoniac, the one leper, the one lame. He singled out Zaccheus in the sycamore tree, the woman at the well, the tax collector at the table.

“My sheep hear my voice,” Jesus said, “and I call them by name.”

Yumiko, Ethan, Dakshi, Orji, Jose, Deloris, Michael . . . .

God calls each by name.

Perhaps the Lord spent so much time focusing His hearers’ attention on their individual uniqueness in God's heart is because they had for so long thought of themselves only in terms of ‘the nation.’ Perhaps they had lost the memory that God knit each of them in their mother’s womb, that He knew the number of hairs on their head.

And He knew them each by name.

I hear it often said that God sent his Son to establish the Church, to reconcile it to Himself, to embrace her as His bride, that I wonder if we now think of ourselves only in terms of ‘the Church,’ and have lost the sense of our individual uniqueness in God's heart. Perhaps we have lost the memory that God knit each of us in our mother’s womb, that He knows the number of hairs of our head.

And that He calls each of us by name.

A Seductive Philosophy

[They examined] the scriptures daily to see whether these things were so (Acts 17:11).

Every so often I chance upon something written by a Christian which absolutely astounds me by its seductive and erroneous theology. Like an article in which the author -- a well-known Catholic author and speaker -- declared Scriptures which speak of God’s anger, or love, or mercy are metaphors, rather than statements of reality.

At first blush (and a very quick one, at that), such an idea might sound logical. After all, God is not human. But after that first blush disappears, it is clear to me the author has to play some very imaginative and disingenuous philosophical games to explain away each of the hundreds of verses in Scripture that speak of God’s love, compassion, anger, mercy, and so forth.

For example, is Psalm 103:10-14 a metaphor about God’s compassion, or does He really, in fact, have compassion on us? If we confess our sins (1 John 1:9), will God really be merciful to forgive those sins – or is that, too, a metaphor? When the Lord Jesus – who wept at the tomb of Lazarus (John 11:35), who angrily warned the Pharisees of their impending judgment (Matthew 23), and who whipped the merchants out of the Temple – when Jesus said to His disciples, “He who has seen Me has seen the Father” (John 14:9), was He using a figure of speech, or did He mean what He said – “the way I act is the way the Father acts”?

Did Moses use metaphors in Leviticus 10:1-2 when he wrote about the anger of God toward Nadab and Abihu (the sons of Aaron) when they sinned against Him and were struck dead on the spot? Did Moses use metaphors to describe God’s anger against sin when he wrote of the sudden deaths of Korah and his cohort after their rebellion against God (Numbers 16:25-33)? Did the writer of 2 Samuel use metaphors when he described how God’s anger burned against David for his sin with Bathsheba, and subsequently took the life of their first child (2 Samuel 12:9-14)?

And of course most of the book of Revelation tells us of God’s anger toward sin and His direct and repeated judgment upon a people who continue to shake their fists in God’s face. Are we to believe those many chapters are figures of speech, or are they dire warnings rooted in fact?

If the hundreds of texts written in Scripture declaring the love, mercy, anger and righteousness of God are simply figures of speech, then the warnings inherent in those same Scriptures about obeying God are without weight, and Hebrews 10:31 – It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God – is little more than a hiccup in what could be viewed as the fairy-tale of God.

In the beginning, Satan tried to get Eve to question God’s word when he asked, Hath God said? (Genesis 3:1). Unfortunately, he succeeded in his mission, and the rest of the story makes for sad history. It should not be a surprise, then, that the Psalmist asks the reader, If the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do? (Psalm 11:3).

The foundation of our Christian faith is the word of God. Catholic Christians believe God appointed Peter and his successors with the sole authority to interpret for us the Scriptures (e.g. Matthew 16:18-19; 1 Timothy 3:15). And so, St. Paul wrote to the Christians at Colossae: See to it that no one captivate you with an empty, seductive philosophy according to human tradition, according to the elemental powers of the world and not according to Christ (Colossians 2:8).

Let us then be ever vigilant to test any teaching about God and His word, to judge whether what is said is true according to our Catechism of the Catholic Church – or merely someone’s seductive philosophy.

Faithful in Little, Fruitful in Much

Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God . . . (1 Corinthians 1:1)


These are the first words of St. Paul's letter to the Christians at Corinth. When I read them I wondered if Paul knew his letter would eventually become part of the Bible.

No, of course he didn’t. And neither did Sts. Peter, or James, Jude, John . . . none of the apostles knew their letters would survive 2,000 years and give comfort and direction to millions of Christians not even born yet. They were simply doing at the time what they felt God had called them to do at the moment . . . write letters of exhortation and encouragement to others.

There’s a great take-home message in that, for though our words won't become Holy Scripture, what can our words or acts accomplish for God? How far-reaching will they be?

We don't know. Yet, as was true of the apostles, so it is true for you and me. We are called by God to faithfully share His word and His life with others, to teach, exhort, challenge and comfort. And the result of our simple obedience? Consider God's promise to us through Isaiah (55:8):

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD. As high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my ways above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts.

For just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down And do not return there till they have watered the earth, making it fertile and fruitful, Giving seed to him who sows and bread to him who eats, So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; It shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it.

Christian: Be faithful in the little things. Remember what He did with a couple of fish and pieces of bread.

Ready for the Wedding

. . . the sheep hear His voice; and He calls his own sheep by name . . . . (John 10:3).

I remember sitting in the chapel on the Yokosuka Naval Base nearly 40 years ago during Sunday morning worship service. And I still remember squirming in my pew as some guy stood on the platform and sang a hymn to Christ. Part of the lyrics were, “I love you, Jesus.”

I felt oddly uncomfortable to hear a man profess his deep love for another man.

Thankfully, my faith matured over the years. Now I wonder why any Christian would not publicly proclaim his or her love for Jesus. I love Him. Deeply. Intimately. Emotionally. Physically. With my mind, heart, soul, and strength. He is my best friend. My confidant. My lover. My . . . yes, my Bridegroom.

For as long as I have been a Christian – since 1972 – I’ve known the Church is the Bride of Christ. Scripture says so. But in recent years I have heard some in the Church opine that while the Church is Christ’s bride, individual Christians are not.

But who is it that comprises the Church if not individuals? To think otherwise is analogous to saying “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son” (John 3:16) – but He did not give His son for individuals, like me. Or you. To reduce the Marriage Supper of the Lamb (Revelation 19:7) to the community, and remove the individuals within the community is like saying Jesus did not seek the one lost sheep from the ninety-nine; that He didn’t search for the one coin lost among the many; that He didn’t seek the one prodigal from the family. It is like saying the Church has a relationship with Christ, but individuals cannot. It is like saying when St. Paul wrote to the Ephesians (5:25), “Husbands love your wives as Christ loved the Church and gave Himself up for her” he did not mean to say Jesus gave Himself up for me.

Of course Jesus gave Himself for me! I am the reason He died. And Jesus gave Himself for you, too. You are the reason Jesus died.

Yes, God addresses the nation of Israel in the Old Testament, and the Church in the New. But it is equally true God had a personal relationship with individuals in both groups: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, David, Solomon, Peter, James, Paul, John.

Isaiah wrote: As a bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so your God will rejoice over you (Isaiah 62:5) Zephaniah added, The Lord your God is in your midst, a victorious warrior. He will exult over you with joy. He will renew you in His love. He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy (Zephaniah 3:17) And the Holy Spirit, writing of the future Marriage Supper of the Lamb, spoke through Solomon to individuals within the Church: Arise my darling, my beautiful one, and come along. For behold, the winter is past. The rains are over and gone. The flowers have appeared in the land and the time has arrived for singing. The fig tree has ripened its figs and the vines in blossom have given forth their fragrance. Arise my darling, my beautiful one, and come along (Song of Songs 2:10-13).

Jesus loves me and you – individuals. That is why we can each have an individual love relationship with Jesus. And those who love Him are members individually of the Church and individually Christ’s bride. That's why St. Paul told the people in the Church at Corinth: Now you are Christ’s body, and individually members of it (1 Corinthians 12:27).

How does that work, to be the Church and also part of it? I don’t know.

But neither do I understand any of the mysteries of God. It is simply a wonderful truth I know to be true because Scripture says it from one end of the book to the other.

Oh, how wonderful is the Savior's love that He would make me and you -- sinners as we are -- His bride!

Let's get ready for the wedding.

Circumcision and Abortion

Then they themselves also will answer, 'Lord, when did we see You hungry, or thirsty, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not take care of You?' Then He will answer them, 'Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me.' These will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life. (Matthew 25:44-46).

I had a disturbing internet exchange with some strangers yesterday. A Facebook friend posted an article about the proposed San Francisco ban on circumcision that will make its way to the ballot.

I responded that I find it curious that so many people are concerned about cutting off a boy’s foreskin and yet at the same time be so nonchalant about slicing apart little boys and girls bodies in the womb during an abortion.

That started a minor firestorm. One woman responded, “I'll keep my scalpels off your body, you keep your filthy religion off mine. Sound good?”

I am not sure what caused her to knee-jerk into the accusation of religious-mongering (I hadn’t brought God into the discussion). But there it was. The gauntlet was down.

I tried to redirect the discussion and responded, “It doesn't require faith in God to know that what is in the womb is a human being. That is science. And cutting it apart is cruel and inhuman punishment. That is truth.”

A moment later a guy entered the fray with something equally argumentative about sperm and DNA and how the fetus is not actually alive  To which I suggested the two search the internet for key words such as “fetal development” (such as here and here).

The woman shot back (clearly without bothering to read anything about fetal development) that the fetus doesn’t feel pain until late in the pregnancy, and that the fetus is not conscious. I responded if that is the criteria we use to assess life, then we are in great danger as a people.

Within minutes, I was accused of being insensitive to the “plight of millions of women and their families around the world,” and I was “too (expletive) stupid”  and that I am “wasting air someone else could be using.”

In other words, society would be better off if I were dead.

I bowed out of the discussion that was clearly going nowhere.

But I thought a while about the virulence hurled at me by strangers when I asked how anyone can be concerned about circumcision, and not recognize hypocrisy in their pro-abortion position.

I know nothing of the religious faith of the people who called me stupid and wished me dead. I assume they do not consider themselves Christians. But that is not necessarily a valid assumption. I have met far too many people who call themselves “Christian” and “Catholic” and “Protestant” who not only support abortion, but vote for candidates who are unabashedly pro-abortion.

If Scripture is true, and Church teaching has any influence on how we live our Christian faith, then a pro-abortion sympathy is an eternally deadly position for a Christian to hold. If we feed the poor and visit those in prison, as Jesus said in the passage above, but we do nothing to protect the unborn – indeed, if we (God forbid!) actively or passively promote abortion – will we avoid the eternal punishment Jesus warned about in that passage?   

"Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven,” Jesus warned, “But only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name? Did we not drive out demons in your name? Did we not do mighty deeds in your name?' Then I will declare to them solemnly, 'I never knew you. Depart from me, you evildoers’ (Matthew 7:21-23).

I expect people who deny Jesus as Lord to rationalize away the idea that abortion is nothing less than wickedness and worthy of eternal punishment. But those who claim Jesus to be their Lord ought to pay very close attention to His warnings.

As St. Paul put it: Do not be deceived. God is not mocked. (Galatians 6:7)

Who Else But God?

Beware that you do not forget the Lord your God . . . otherwise, when you have eaten and are satisfied, and have built good houses and lived in them, and when your herds and your flocks multiply, and your silver and gold multiply . . . then your heart will become proud and you will forget the Lord your God . . . [and] you may say in your heart, 'My power and the strength of my hand made me this wealth.' But you shall remember the LORD your God, for it is He who is giving you power to make wealth . . . (Deuteronomy 8:11-18).

It happens so often

I shouldn’t be surprised to hear it

from those who should know better,

who boast of their intellect

and abilities –

even ‘good luck’

when they succeed.

And don’t give God

more than a cursory nod

at their success.

But who else but God,

who lovingly orchestrates

events

and people

and circumstances . . .

Who else but God,

drops thoughts into our minds

to go here or there,

do this or that,

so as to place us at the  

right time

and situation

of His choosing

to favor us with success,

even knowing so many of us

will be thankless.

Be Absorbed in Them

. . . [D]iscipline yourself for the purpose of godliness . . . Take pains with these things; be absorbed in them . . . (1 Timothy 4:7, 15).

It can’t be a month or so since I read this text, and was so taken – as if for the first time – by the apostle’s admonition, that I committed the passage to memory. “Discipline yourself. Take pains with the things that lead toward godliness. Be absorbed in them.”

The reason I memorized the passage is because I knew when it came to spiritual exercises, I could use more discipline. That’s why Lent this year was such a valuable experience for me. I turned off the television and the hour or more I would have spent watching dribble, I spent feeding my spirit.

There is more I want to say about my recent ‘epiphany’ – and I will return to it later. But something happened this morning as I prepared to write this blogpost that I think is more important to tell you.

Every several years I retire my old Bible and purchase a new one because over the years the notes I write to myself in the margins begin to overtake the printed text. Bindings come loose, and pages yellow and fray.

This morning, as I prepared to write my next post, I retrieved the Bible I had retired in 1995. I opened to the passage in 1 Timothy . . . and noticed I had, many years earlier, underlined the word ‘discipline’ in verse 7, had jotted “see verse 15” in the margin, and had also underlined, “Take pains with these things; be absorbed in them.”

Apparently the ‘epiphany’ I had a month or so ago about this text was not the first time I’d received it. But, Oh! How I had completely forgotten it.

From time to time I like to play a game with my Bible study group that illustrates an important point about consistent spiritual disciplines. I ask them to tell me what they had for dinner two nights ago. Most of the time only a handful of those gathered can remember. Then I bring them back five days. A week. By then, no one remembers what they had for dinner.

And I drive home the point: If we have such difficulty remembering what we had for dinner only a few nights ago, how much easier is it to forget the spiritual food we imbibed if we let days and weeks go between reading? Indeed, even with continual reading and study of God’s word, it is easy to forget earlier lessons learned. Life keeps us so very busy with . . . well, with living, that we so easily forget what we eat – or what we read in Scripture.

And so, for good reason the Holy Spirit reminds us through St. Paul, “Discipline yourself for the purpose of godliness . . . . Take pains with these things. Be absorbed in them . . . .” 

Another way of saying it might be: study God’s word. Be absorbed by it. Memorize it. Be disciplined about it.

Oh, Holy Spirit. Help us.

When God Says No

Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:8-9).

You'd think if God answered anyone's prayers, St. Paul would be at the top of the list. Much of the New Testament came through his pen. An entire continent heard the gospel because of his tireless zeal and passion for Christ. The Book of Acts records multiple examples of God's miraculous works and healing through Paul's ministry.

Yet, when he asked God to remove his thorn, God said, "No." And the take-home message here is, sometimes God says no. Even to His apostles.

Scripture records many reasons God says "No." Sometimes, as in this chapter in 2 Corinthians, He says it because He can use us more effectively with our thorn than without it. Sometimes He says it because it's in our best interest if we don’t get what we want. Sometimes "No" means "Not yet." And, yes, sometimes He says it because of our willful and unrepented sin.

What do we do when God doesn't give us the answers we want to hear? Do we grouse and accuse Him of not caring? Or like St. Paul, can we trust our heavenly Father's great love for us? Can we be content with thorns, knowing when we are weak, we are strong in Him?

Of course, that's all easy to say. It's easy to theorize. And not so easy to live. Nevertheless, the mature Christian understands God's, "No" -- whatever the reason -- is always rooted in His love for us. And His grace is always sufficient to carry us through our heartache and disappointment.

How do we know that?

Scripture says so.

Astonished, or Bored?

When Jesus finished these words, the crowds were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes. (Matthew 7:28-29)

I remember a time I wasn’t astonished by Christ’s teaching. I rejected it.

In those days I prided myself on being an atheist, always ready to challenge Christians with unanswerable questions like, “Can you prove God exists?” or “Why does He permit cancer? Or war? Why do drunk drivers kill entire families?” So, when I was twenty years old and stopped at a traffic light, the thought caught me by surprise: "What if there is a God?"

The concept intrigued me, but only for a moment. Though I knew nothing about God’s word, intuitively I knew if He existed, He didn’t like my sexual sins, drug abuse, thefts, lies, arrogance . . . .

I would have to change.

But I didn’t want to change. I liked living as I did. So, when the light turned green, I ignored the question.

No one knows what became of the crowd who listened to Christ’s Sermon on the Mount (chapters five through seven of Matthew’s gospel). We do know, however, it’s never enough to simply be “astonished” by a sermon, a Scripture reading – or even an encounter with the Lord Himself as we are privileged to do in the Eucharist. What matters is a changed life, “doing” His commandments instead of just “hearing.” Isn’t that what Christ said to his audience earlier in this chapter? Only those who obey the God will enter heaven (verse 21-23).

I am grateful for God’s mercy because He did not ignore me forty-one years ago at that traffic light like I did Him. And I am grateful because His mercy is not limited to me. It extends to the entire human family. It extends to you.

Regardless of the times you've rejected Him, His total forgiveness remains only a prayer away.