Ring of Flowers, Ring of Thorns 

Tolkein Family Convivium

The NFP Battle and a Prudential Truce

Is Natural Family Planning a good or bad practice? Is the Novus Ordo Missa spiritually beneficial or harmful? Both of these, NFP and the new Mass, are post-Vatican II developments, and they have become ripe sources of controversy among traditional Catholics. Since Vatican II appeared to have produced them, they are under suspicion of being a product of revolutionary liberals rather than Tradition. They are hotly argued in close-knit circles, but not mentioned in acquaintance-laden situations. And where one stands on these two issues has become for some a primary litmus test of being a ‘real’ Catholic.

Some traditionalists with which I have spoken portray the use of NFP by Catholic couples as a serious sin, as if intrinsically evil, equivalent for all intents and purposes to the use of artificial contraception or sterilization. Of course, the distinction is made between the intrinsically evil use of artificial methods to prevent pregnancy and the morally permissible use of periodic abstinence, but still there is an implication that in practice, NFP is morally suspect. Couples, they insist, are bound by their marriage vows to bring into their union as many children as possible—period.

Of course, there are many Catholic families who do just this. What their reasons are or how they are able to make such heroic sacrifices is as mysterious as how two people stay married. There are, on the other hand, many Catholic couples who have one or two children, with reasons as mysterious and sacrifices as heroic. Even so, moral judgments must be made, and Catholics are in need of rigorous guidelines on this issue in order to make good ones. A good, invective-free discussion on the matter is urgent, because many good Catholics, who are neither selfish modernists nor crazy fanatics, are struggling to find answers about NFP.

This issue hits right at the heart of marriage and at the heart of the Church, for it appears to mimic the liberalizing tendencies of much of Vatican II, making the answers to moral and doctrinal questions appear somewhat relative and overly dependent on the individual conscience. A clear articulation of principles is lacking in most Catholic clergy and laypeople. This is in part due to modernism, which enables the individual’s “right” to derive his own meaning from the universe to usurp the rightful place of the tradition and authority of perennial Church teaching. As a result, a couple (or, more likely, a woman) will hear unbearably confusing messages coming from different priests: “Follow your conscience,” another, “Now, I hope you will bring as many babies into the world as you can; this is what God wants,” and yet another, “I see you are having a hard time right now; you need to take this into consideration when you are thinking about the number of children you should have.”

Therefore, in the absence of clear and consistent advice from the shepherds, the lay person is left with the unbearable responsibility of understanding the perennial Church teaching on moral issues like NFP all by himself. Nevertheless, just because there is not strong and clear guidance readily available does not mean that lay people are exempt from any culpability in this issue. During the Arian heresy in the forth century, St. Athanasius tells us that it was largely the faith and efforts of the lay people that kept the truth alive in his diocese while he was exiled. They rose to the occasion, and so must we.

Starting with the extremist positions is helpful in hashing out what is the reasonable position, the “middle between two extremes” of Aristotelian virtue, not mealy-mouthed compromise, but rather balance. Hillare Belloc described heresy as an unbalancing of the truth, with some part of the truth being overemphasized or underemphasized. Liberal Christianity and Islam, for example, are the two opposite poles of what is essentially a Catholic heresy. Muslims leave out the grace and mercy of Christ, overemphasizing the inexorability of the divine will and his severe justice, while liberal Christianity mitigate God’s justice and the appeasement necessary to satisfy that justice. The balance is our Holy Catholic faith, of course, which, by virtue of the Holy Spirit, holds the precarious balance between mercy and justice.

NFP is no different. This serious moral issue has extreme positions, and there is a balance. How does one reach the balance in these times, where clarity on orthopraxy (how we live out our orthodoxy) is sadly lacking in many of our shepherds? Thankfully, The Catechism of the Catholic Church does speak clearly on the NFP issue. Number 2370: “Periodic continence, that is, the methods of birth regulation based on self observation and the use of infertile periods is in conformity with the objective criteria of morality”. However, there is still questioning among faithful Catholics about whether or not this is just another concession to the modern world, and how one is to practice NFP without falling into a mindset of “Catholic birth control.”

In real life, in the marriage bed, in the confessional, in a lady’s discussions over tea with other ladies, the issue is not so clear, partly because this particular issue has arisen with the development of greater scientific understanding about how the body works—it is, in short, a genuinely “new option.” “New” does not necessarily mean “better,” nor does it necessarily mean “worse.” Because NFP is a result of true scientific progress, many people mistakenly place it in the modernist or progressivist camp, like abuses in the Mass and the attempted change of the perennial teaching of the Faith in the post-conciliar Church.

“If you are Catholic, and you aren’t using NFP to limit your family, you are irresponsible financially and environmentally, and you aren’t going to be able to give each child the attention he needs. Besides, you give the rest of us moderate Catholics a reputation of being off-the wall.” Here is the NFP extreme position from the left, if you will. To those who battle with Protestant, secular, or pagan co-workers, friends, or family members on this issue, this is not an uncommon argument one faces. The pressure put on many Catholic couples is immense. Anyone with more than two or three children knows what it is like, day after day, to encounter the world with a bevy of children, notwithstanding the very real economic injustices of modern society, where prices are driven up by singles, homosexuals, and ‘child-free’ couples! But to try to argue with this basically irrational and extreme position is a waste of time. It is sweepingly judgmental, raising the use of NFP to the same level as the obligation to attend Sunday Mass. This view is a true concession to secular society. To live rightly in a crazy world has always taken moral courage, and there are couples who are able to have many children without even considering NFP for a moment—this is a true blessing. If one has ever been around a happy and well-run family with lots of children, one immediately sees the beauty of a well-attended domestic church, as it were, full of life and love.

The extreme position on the right goes like this: “If you are a Catholic and using NFP, you are sinning grievously.” Is NFP really different from artificial contraception ? In using contraception, one is saying, “I will use all and every means available to me in this world in order to not get pregnant.” One can see in this position the quite logical step to abortion. But, when practicing NFP, one is saying, “I will not use any option available, but I will work within my God-given periods of fertility and infertility in order to avoid pregnancy for a serious reason. “God, if You want me to have a baby, the door is still open for You.” As rational beings, we know quite well that we do not have to use any option that helps us to execute our will just because it is available to use. I do not drive on the shoulder of the highway in a traffic jam just because the option is open. There are standards and rules and reasons why I can’t do that, even though it might serve my desires well at the time.

In NFP the couple is using reason according to the teaching of the Church and the particular situation they are in; no one else besides the three in the marriage (the man, the woman and God, as Archbishop F. Sheen said) can properly make that decision. NFP is in itself a licit option allowed by the Church, yes, but one can still ask, “How do I decide whether or not to use NFP in order to postpone pregnancy in my case?”

The answer lies in the virtue of prudence, the genitrix and auriga virtutum, the mother and guide of the virtues. Prudence. Like a mother, prudence judges things situation by situation, but always with what is unchangeably right in mind. Thus, prudence makes the other virtues fit well into each situation, taking into account the many variables that cannot often be rightly understood only from general principles, or by armchair intellectual abstraction.

Each Catholic is called to work to form and exercise the virtues in the service of God, others, and self. Like athletes we are in training to be saints. The situations in life, like the issue of NFP, are the hurdles, our virtues, prayers, and graces are our muscles and lungs. The primary balancing point on the issue of NFP is that it is a matter of prudence. This is why the different decisions of two Catholic regarding the use of NFP can be ultimately grounded in the same right standard. It is a mysterious process of prudential discernment unavailable to anyone but the couple itself.

A question must be addressed, however: “What are “right standards?” This is where the confusion of modern life becomes so tragic. In order to exercise prudence, and thus exercise the virtues well, one must be able to have good judgment. Good judgment, in turn, rests on good formation. One must have been formed into understanding how to see what is right, what is oriented towards the good, in any given situation. Most of us in our childbearing years were formed badly or not at all, fermenting in “open-classrooms” and self-catechesis. How are we possibly expected to be prudent in such an important area such as our fertility? What exactly are the “serious reasons” related to my situation, my personality, my marriage? How do I avoid the sinful, birth-control mentality when practicing NFP?

The silver lining on this modern cloud, under which the present-day speaking Church seems to be hid, is that we, the laity, are challenged to seek the truth; it has once more become like the buried pearl. We have to sell everything to buy it. The Church, in Her documents, Her scholasticism, Her saints and Her tradition, is the oyster of formation. But it must be sought with diligence.

In order for Catholic couples to find the virtuous balance between the extremes on the NFP issue, they must be courageous souls, lovers of truth, tradition, the Church, and above all, Christ; they must be willing to become students, hopefully under the guidance of a good and holy spiritual director. It is hard to find the time, hard to find the good spiritual director, hard to become properly formed, hard to become a saint. But, this issue must be taken seriously, and not just as another “option,” exercised mindlessly.

Here, I must answer an important question that may be raised by some Catholics: “Aren’t you just using prudence as a cover for lack of generosity and trust in God? Why would God ever allow a child to come into this world that would end up causing more evil than good for itself and for its parents?” This is an excellent question. First of all, God respects our free will. We have many powers, power to use force, power to speak, power to think. God grants us these as gifts, and we must learn when to use or not use them. The use of our fertility, co-creation with God, is the most profound of these gifts, for it involves God directly; therefore it requires the most careful thought and prudence.

An example is in order. A man and woman enter a marriage, each knowing that the other has significant emotional problems to overcome. They enter the marriage with good counsel and prayer, and believe it is still right to get married. The couple has done everything they can to be able to live a marriage that is pleasing to God—but they have wounds. They start out their marriage in generosity, having many children. Financially and professionally, this is hard, but they are open to life and see each child as a gift. Finally, after the fifth child, they start to feel overwhelmed, and, using prudence in obtaining good Catholic counsel, they decide that in order to be good parents to the children that they have and to be able to continue to heal their own wounds, they need to postpone pregnancy. They do not totally shut the door to more children in their life, for they keep it a matter of discussion and prayer, but they are acting with forethought. They can feel confident that if there is a “surprise,” it would be in their best interest, and that God will take care of them.

The question, “How can a child ever be bad for me?” can be answered sarcastically:

“Never, but you can be bad for a child.” Joking aside, the answer is no, a child is always a gift, no matter what the circumstances are. The newly canonized St. Ger Molla is a beautiful example. She is an eternal soul with the potential to praise God and love her neighbor. We have all seen situations where a child born in terrible circumstances has brought love, healing, and joy. As stated before, fertility is a positive power that can be used or not used. And so, if there is a situation in a marriage where there are serious reasons to postpone pregnancy, it is licit and prudent to do so. Each marriage and each person is different, and so I believe Our Lord deals with each in a special way. We must do likewise, within the God-given guidelines of Holy Mother Church.

Finally, a thought on motivations: The use of NFP to have a small family falls outside the norm and tradition of larger families. Again, I quote The Catechism of the Catholic Church, number 2373: “Sacred Scripture and the Church’s traditional practice see in large families a sign of God’s blessing and the parents’ generosity.” The use of NFP to postpone births has to fall under the category of serious reasons, and these are left fairly ambiguous because each situation is very different. Each couple must look at their motivations both for having children and for postponing them. The decisions about what constitute serious reasons for avoiding pregnancy must be under the general attitude of openness to life. Otherwise, any decisions will be in danger of being imprudent and even immoral, i.e. “Catholic birth control.”

What is openness to life? It is a state of being, an attitude about the basic goodness of Creation, a joy in observing and being a steward of God. Openness to life for the married person is like the openness to the operation of God that the priest must have when consecrating the Eucharist. It is, in part, allowing oneself to be the vehicle by which God works a wonder, to see this procreative ability for the tremendous gift that it is, whether or not the individual should or should not have more children. This is why I focus on the need for good formation. A love of life, of God, and of His creation must be formed within us, catechized into us. So many of us were falsely catechized by a modern world that hates life. Modern man lacks the courage to truly live as a fully moral, physical and spiritual being, which is to say, to pass on life.

A Catholic couple must cultivate the love of life, as well as the knowledge of the moral issues involved with their fertility. It is central to their being and to their marriage. Only after there is this attitude of love and openness can a couple make truly prudential decisions about NFP.

Complicated Love 

Simple Love

Sex, as a gender, as an act, is a central part of our being. I imagine the fullness of the soul in every cell of the body, like the fullness of God in every Holy Eucharist held high over the head of the alter Christus, the priest; and the fullness of that soul in every cell, acts with and through the body. The highest love, Our Lord states, is in one who lays his life down for his friend, and in the sexual sphere, the highest love is the gift of self. It is the body as physical expression of the soul, making a gift of self to the spouse- but in the way of God, the ever-creative One, the gift is fecundated and every sexual act is a potential gift of the two for the one, a gift with God of new life. The spousal act of love within which a new soul can spring is the crowning act of the natural life, and so much a central part of the spiritual life of those whose vocation it is to be married.

Sounds simple. It is; all things close to the Heart of God are simple. Sin and disorder make the things of love seem like knots of barbed wire. Within a marriage, there can be the baggage of past sin, or the present load of faults and disorders which can mar the simple beauty of conjugal love, even to the point of making it so very complicated and impassable. Outside of marriage, it gets worse. Sin in the sexual sphere can literally warp the soul, as I imagine, present in every body part, every offended member. Some sins, though, are not born of mature, well-versed volition on the part of some lustful adult. Some are the disorders resulting from damage done by Jansenistic or its siren sister, Libertinism; some resulting from differing abuses of childhood; some resulting from the wily corruption of a blabbering TV (especially if it was cable) or other seemingly ‘normal’ parts of growing up.

Further outside marriage or a vocation to have Christ as Spouse, there are those who “have exchanged the natural for the unnatural”. They are individual souls whom Christ loves, and grieves for, they who yearn for love, for the incarnated love that they were meant for, and yet cannot make their affections ordered to what is natural. The natural law is written on their hearts, deep inside, yet they are like boomerangs, always tending back towards the wound, always tending toward the image of self, the sameness of sex.

I do differentiate between types of those with sexual disorders. Some are simply sexual entrepreneurs, seeking the new and ever-wierder for the sake of the thrill. This is a disorder of the ego closing in to the level of a sociopath, in my estimation. They are the predators. But not all sexual deviants fall into this category. Some are genuinely wounded, people who, if they want to appear to themselves and to others as “proper Christians” live in a limbo of guilt and non-contact with the world of the expression of love in the body. They busy themselves with intellectualism or aestheticism, with any proper “ism” that will keep their cover. This is the arena of suicide for them, and I mean this in a real way. They are those who do not act on their disorder, but yet long for true contact. Their desire for union and expression, the “laying down one’s life” in the fecundity of love, is still very much present. They most probably have the vocation for marriage but have somehow been disordered- they are those within the Body of Christ who need the attention of the other members.

Unfortunately, too many have been seduced into acting on the disorder, out of desperation. Some have committed suicide. Some have changed the Church’s, Christ’s teachings to fit themselves in order to, as they think, “live a full human life”. Others have simply gone to Christian ‘churches’ who support their actions. Some are on a journey of trying to live honestly, yet unsure of their choices. And these sincere but disordered souls get shoved behind the activist types on our radar screens, behind those who in larger and bolder numbers, sport rainbow bumperstickers, lobby for changing laws and societal norms and march in parades dressed like peacocks.

But how, how does the Church of Our Lord reach out to those who are sincerely disordered but who want to love Him? How does the Church at once remain a Rock and yet also a Mother?

I believe the answer lies at the foot of the Cross; for the earthly life, the human life, of Christ was cut short, truncated by the evil and disorder that was the crucifying of God. As Guardini in his book, The Lord, relates, can one imagine what a beauty that Christ would have been to the world as an old man? God Himself has known having one’s yearnings cut short, although His yearnings were always ordered, and ours are often not. Yet I imagine Him standing on one of the hills looking toward Jerusalem, the last light leaving an afterglow on the sandstone and mud stucco; the olive trees making a rustling sound in a teasing wind; and the Lord crying out, “Oh, Jerusalem! How I wish you would let me gather you under my wings, and a hen gathers her young- but you would not, you would not.” Yet, yet, out of this truncation of earthly life, Our Lord wrought an even richer life in the body. He became part of our bodies, in the Eucharist, and made us part of His body, in the Eucharist and the Church. He can therefore transform disorder, make warped and frustrated yearnings bloom into something beyond expectation: but only if they are first laid on the ground below Himself on the Cross.

So the truncation of what one yearns and leans toward must be laid at the Cross. I can only say that these who struggle with sexual disorder and yet lay their yearnings down under the Cross are miraculous, for it takes more than a natural strength to have this kind of disordered-ness and yet lay the clamourings of one’s being down. But we all, in some form or another, must do it- and for all of us, each of us alone, it is utterly lonely- until we look up at His feet and His gentle eyes, the eyes who show forth a heart that can fill every need and straighten every disorder.

For those of us who do not struggle in this way in the sexual realm, I would think we need to look carefully into every face, like Mother Teresa, and try to see what Christ asks us to see, to try and love where there has been no love. And to lay ourselves at the Cross as well, in solidarity with all our fellow-sufferers, our fellows in sin and disorders of all kinds; but without ever taking the easy, destructive road away from the teacher that is the nature God made, or from His positive /revealed laws.

I suppose it is a bit pat- or rather, simple.

St. Therese and the Means of Union 

Sign of Jonah 

Our Elder Brothers and the Sign of Jonah

Christ points to Himself and says, “ I will give you no sign but the Sign of Jonah”. What did He mean?

Like the other seminal histories of the Old Testament, the story of Jonah is archetypical: it is repeated like a musical refrain and then woven into the climax- which is Christ. Jonah’s story, though, has some elements in it that are difficult to understand. Why does Jonah fear to go to Nineveh, more than he fears God, and yet called a prophet, a wise man? What true wise man would fear men more than God? Does this not make him a fool rather than wise? Second, why does Jonah preach and then wish to see the destruction of the city? Why does he sit in sulks outside the repentant city and even reject the tender advances of God? Most interpretations of the Christo-sign of Jonah are that He was to be in the belly of a whale, or of death for three days and then appear again to bring people to repentance, but perhaps there is more to it, more which has to do with our Elder Brothers and the coming of the Lord.

On the highest holy day of the Jewish year, Yom Kippur, the Book of Jonah is read in synagogues all over the world. Why?

The Jewish emphasis on the Book of Jonah has to do with Returning- a people of sin simply returning to God and receiving mercy. Before Jonah came to Nineveh, the Ninevites(Assyrians) had destroyed the kingdom of Israel and led the ten tribes into slavery. To an Israelite prophet like Jonah, Nineveh’s sin was bound up inextricably with the destruction it had wreaked upon the Children of God. One could surmise that Jonah’s reluctance to go to Nineveh is this undercurrent of suspicion that his was an errand of mercy, like the servant who announces to the father that the prodigal son is coming up the road. Perhaps Jonah knew of God’s love and its seeming folly; like the elder brother in the story of the prodigal son, he wanted to know why these Ninevites would even be deserving of his preaching and attempt at encouraging repentance, when the Ninevites had laid waste the possessions of the Father, namely the kingdom of the ten tribes of Israel?

So, perhaps Jonah sailed away partly because of fear of the Ninevites and partly because this mission made him angry and confused: how could God even allow them a chance at repentance and conversion? In this act of rebellion, Jonah was acting as just Jonah; for in as much as a prophet is acting as the mouth of God, he is acting as a sort of vehicle of God and stands for Him in a mysterious way. One can think of Moses holding up his arm to ensure victory for the Israelites- it was God’s power in the arm of His prophet. Therefore, when Jonah was not obeying God, he was not allowing God to use him as a mouth to preach to the Ninevites, he had retreated back into himself. When Jonah sees the tempest and the frightened sailors and turns, he again becomes God’s willing tool. He lays his life down for the sailors, because he understands enough of God’s power and wrath to know that none will escape. At the moment he allows himself to be thrown to the waves, he is carried by grace to Ninevah. Jonah as prophet of the Lord, becomes fervent once more, in the service of the Lord, in preaching the coming of the Lord. In what mode did he preach? Was it wrath or love? Did Jonah even understand what God was saying through his mouth? If he did, the results at least seemed unexpected to Jonah as Jonah. The people Returned. They repented, returned to God in their hearts, forsaking what they knew to be evil. And God spared them. That was all.

Jonah, no longer as prophet, but as Jonah, retreated into the desert, not flushed with joy at God’s victory of love, but flushed with anger and confusion. He sat in the burning sun, joining in its fiery fury. He could not understand why, why, hadn’t God punished the destroyers of Israel? Why, with no conversion to the Law, no understanding of the Lord’s proscriptions for sacrifice, were they forgiven? Where was God?

In one of the most beautiful moments in all of the Old Testament, a leafy green plant grows up beside Jonah, shading him from the burning sun, a divine and gentle acknowledgement of the anger and confusion of the creature, a supremely Fatherly act, an entreaty to trust without understanding.

On Yom Kippur, the highest holy day of the Jewish year, they read about Returning, a reminder of the simplicity of God’s mercy, and perhaps the mystery of His ways with the wayward. Perhaps there is also a suggestion of a warning about the pride of the Israelites, a reminder of a humbled nation, humbled all the further because its enemies are forgiven without the necessity of conversion to the Hebrew faith. One Jewish scholar writes,

“This conception of return has been and is at the very heart of Judaism, and it is for this very sake of this idea that Jonah is always read on the highest holy day of the year. But the theology of Paul in the New Testament is founded on the implicit denial of this doctrine, and so are the Roman Catholic and the Greek Orthodox churches, Lutheranism and Calvinism. Paul’s elaborate argument concerning the impossibility of salvation under the Torah (the Law) and for the necessity of Christ’s redemptive death presuppose that God cannot simply forgive anyone who returns. If the doctrine of return is true, Paul’s theology collapses and “Christ died in vain”….Man stands in a direct relationship to God and requires no mediator.

The writer makes a false dichotomy: that of salvation, of Return, opposed to the necessity of any kind of conversion or sacrifice. For Paul confirms the book of Jonah, the real lesson that God can and does Himself becomes the Law, fulfills it in order to become a bridge for the Gentiles, that it is conversion to a Being, not a written law. The law only provides a way to love and know God.

What Jonah did not understand was that, as Abraham said to Isaac, “The Lord will provide the lamb for the sacrifice.” What Jonah could not understand was that God Himself would take on the punishment for the Ninevites, for all, and so justice would indeed be fulfilled. Rather than, “Man stands in a direct relationship with God and requires no mediator”, the Church says, “ Man stands helplessly sinful before God and requires Him as mediator.”

One can see the incompleteness of Jewish thought since the turning away from Christ, in that the very Book of Jonah places them in a seemingly impossible quandary: in the story of the Ninevites, it seems to human understanding, either mercy must be set aside or justice must be truncated. Jonah was no fool, he was a wise man beloved by God, but he could not, as Jonah, solve the Riddle of the Return of the Ninevites, the forgiveness without explicit conversion to God’s Law as expressed to Moses. This may be the sign of Jonah that Our Lord spoke of: the Riddle which only God in His own person could solve. For Christ is Mercy and Justice in one person, for He is God. The hearers of the Book of Jonah will not understand Jonah until they understand who Christ is. He is The Mediator, as He was the mediator in the person of Jonah and so Jonah was a Messainic pre-figure. Jonah is all the more important to the Jew’s eventual true understanding because he was a mediator for the Gentiles, in the Ninevites.

An interesting footnote is the visit of Pope John Paul II to the synagogue of Rome, and his calling the Jewish “Our Elder Brothers in the Faith”. Perhaps unbeknownst to the Holy Father, the leaders of the synagogue were perturbed by this acclamation, because in both the Old and New Testaments, the elder brother is usually the rightful heir who is often portrayed as resentful of the usurpation by the younger: Cain and Abel, Esau and Jacob, Ishmael and Isaac, the elder brother of the parable of the prodigal son. Jonah, too, can be seen as a kind of elder brother, resentful of the forgiven Ninevites, whom he helped to repent. Knowingly or not, perhaps Pope John Paul II was speaking a prophetic word, acting as a Jonah himself to the Jews, in reminding them by being Jonah, as Christ spoke of “Being the sign of Jonah”- he reminded them that the Law does not save them, that only God can fulfill the conditions for a just and merciful Return. Only God can provide the proper Lamb: and He has. One thinks of the Pope, in the white of the sacrificial Lamb, walking toward the synagogue, with his hands outstretched in that characteristic way of symbolled love; and one thinks of the Good Shepherd, the Sign of Jonah, searching for every lamb, Jew and Gentile.

Co-Redemptrix 

Protestants, The Passion and the Co-Redemptrix

A few months ago, I started reading with interest when I saw the interesting painting of Mary on the cover of Christianity Today (December 2003). I thought that the choice of that particular painting was quite telling as to the underlying message of the article. The pitiable, really rather pathetic little girl, looking frightened and confused almost to the point of being tortured, was being crushed under the bright words, “The Blessed Evangelical Mary”. Mary, the ordinary, Mary the “sinner like the rest of us”, Mary the ignorant, poor and pitifully confused by all the divine intervention in her life, Mary the utter weakling. Even though he caricatured the Mother of God, at least Timothy George makes an attempt to open up a discussion about the role of Mary among Protestants, and I find this laudable. However, because of his all-too-common misconceptions about Catholic beliefs and practices, his attempt is flawed from the foundations. His Mary is an anti-Mary, a Mary who must, at all costs, be different from the “Catholic Goddess Mary”. I think this is a very important subject for Protestants, and so I thought it important and helpful to try an elucidate some of Catholic thought for the average Protestant reader who is not, perhaps, too biased against Catholic thought.

One writer said at the time of the release of The Passion, “We are in an ecumenical moment”. Mel Gibson is not a liberal Catholic, or a cultural Catholic, or even a ‘conservative’ Catholic (this is the closest group of Catholics to serious Evangelicals)- he is a ‘traditional Catholic’- meaning that he takes the two millennia of Catholic Tradition and Scripture as the rulers by which he measures his faith, and is suspicious of the newer developments in the Church after Vatican II in the sixties, including the ‘talks’ with various Protestant groups. This colors his film, because there is not a hint of compromise to either the secular world or the ecumenical movement which has tended to produce vague statements and agreements about peripheries. His film is unabashedly and clearly Catholic, and thus has a lot to do with this discussion of Mary- Mary as the Catholic has understood her for two millennia. She plays a central role in the film, and many Protestants will have simply missed the meaning of her role in real life as well as in the film. This is unfortunate, because the film is a teacher of some of the Catholic and ancient orthodoxies and orthopraxis surrounding Mary, Theotokos, as well as other doctrines we hold in difference. I was also grossly offended by the story told in Mr. George’s article about John Knox telling the boatmen to throw Mary’s statue overboard. Notwithstanding the fact that the boatmen were probably mocking Knox’s Protestantism, and trying to elicit such a reaction; but that he would demean, not a statue, but Our Lord’s mother, is revolting. It would be like someone showing you a picture of their beloved grandmother, now passed away, and you telling them, “No, I won’t look at it. Throw it out.” And I don’t believe that he thought Catholics worshipped Mary- in this time period, when the tradition of Western Hemisphere was largely Catholic, Knox should have known that the worship of anyone but God is abominable to Catholics. Knox was, like other Calvinists, an iconoclast, similar to those in the early centuries of Christianity.

I think it is essential for all who call themselves Christians to understand some of the deeper symbolism in the movie, especially those episodes surrounding Mary. I also thought that it would be a chance to correct some of the false impressions about Catholic thought inherent in many Protestant minds- especially about the Eucharist and the role of Mary. The Passion of the Christ is a chance to remedy this kind of thinking about Mary, and I think Gibson’s movie shows “it is as it was”, the dignified and sublime role of Mary in the life and Passion of Jesus Christ, and beyond.

In the Garden of Gethsemane, Our Lord crushes the head of a serpent. The first serpent in the Garden of Eden is told, along with Eve, that , “ I shall put enmity betwixt thou and the Woman- between your seed and hers, you shall bruise His heel and He shall crush your head.” So Eve’s seed, and Mary’s, Our Lord, crushes the head of the serpent even as His heel is bruised (the Passion) for the sake of humanity.

After Our Lord is seized in the Garden and taken to the illegally gathered Sanhedrin, John runs to Mary, and to Mary Magdalene. Mary recites a line from the Jewish Passover, “Why is this night different from all other nights?” She knows the real meaning of the Passion, when even the twelve did not understand. It is similar to her familiar knowledge of His powers unveiled at the Marriage of Cana, where she asks simply for Him to help them in their need. She KNOWS what will be required of Him, and she knows He can lay down His life- or not. Thus her role is more intimate, more knowledgeable than Protestants have hitherto given her credit. This understanding of Mary is from traditional Catholic thought and spirituality, not the imagination of Mel Gibson.

At the Sanhedrin trial of Our Lord, Mary is there. And Peter, after his denials, runs to Mary and kneels at her feet, not allowing her to touch his unworthy head. But he goes to her- and in Catholic understanding, it is likely that she prayed to God for his soul. This is the essence of intercessory prayer: When we have offended Our Lord and God by traitorous deeds, and are afraid to face Him, we can run to His mother and ask for her prayers. She has suffered much, has lived years with Jesus, would know her Son best and be able to ask for mercy from Him.

Judas, on the other hand, runs not to Our Lord or to His mother, but runs to the leaders of the Temple- and they no longer have anything to give. “What is that to us? Look thou to it”. They turn Judas back on himself; they have no grace to give because the time of the Temple is passing. In betraying the Christ, they are the unwitting instruments by which the Temple worship will be fulfilled- not abolished, but fulfilled. This is another digression between Catholic and Protestant thought- at least the Protestantism I have understood. It is hard to pin down any one Protestant theology, unless it is CS Lewis’ Mere Christianity. At any rate, the Catholic Mass is very similar to the Jewish Temple rites, and close study will render an understanding that this is a fulfillment of what the Temple was foreshadowing.

Another beautiful scene exhibiting Mary’s role in the spiritual life is the moments when she lays on the floor of one of the Temple’s side courts and is miraculously right above her Son. Her close and intimate connection with Him is made manifest, and Catholics know that this close connection would not stop with the end of their respective lives on earth, but would become more loving and intimate in heaven. Her role in sharing His suffering, in the way that only a mother can, is being slowly revealed more and more as the film progresses. What is the point of thinking about this closeness? Firstly, just for the sake of truth, beauty and secondly, for the honor due her because of her special role. Third, as the film builds, and the suffering builds, the viewer can begin to understand that to bear her suffering would take, at the least, an extraordinary person. But Mary takes no credit for herself, for she is, as the Angel Gabriel titled her, “Full of Grace”. She has been filled with grace by the Eternal Word, her Son, by the Father, and by her Spouse, the Holy Spirit. This is the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception, so resented and misunderstood by Protestants. She was given the graces to share in the ultimate horror of her suffering God-Son, and the graces were needed so that she would be able to fulfill her role, as I will explain later. Her great merit is in her response, her fiat to the overflowing graces offered her.

Another important, and probably misunderstood, scene in the film is when Pilate’s wife brings Mary the white linen cloths. After the scourging, Mary begins to reverently wipe up the Blood of Jesus with these cloths. This is a strong Catholic image of devotion to Sacraments and relics. The Blood is precious beyond all other relics and things on Earth. Mary understands this, and takes the lead in showing Mary Magdalene and John just what this Passion is about: That each drop of this Blood redeems, and so reverence must be shown It. The Blood is a physical entity which simultaneously contains within it real grace and redemption. Thus are the Sacraments, and in a lesser sense, sacramentals: they are little dew-drops from Heaven, giving the believer grace to go on, to love, to be willing to be forgiven. Holy Water, used for Baptism and for blessing people, places and things; saint’s relics, churches, holy sights like those in the Holy Land, etc. All are infused with grace, little points of connection to Heaven- in a REAL way, not a dead memorial or literary symbol. Sacraments are, as the Catechism of the Catholic Church elucidates, “the masterworks of God”, “powers that come forth from the Body of Christ…. They are the on-going salvific mysteries of Christ, dispensed by His ministers.” His cleansing, healing, saving, and loving are all carried on by the seven Sacraments. They are: Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Penance, Anointing of the Sick, Holy Orders and Matrimony. These all require, obviously, both a divine and visible Church. Sacramentals, on the other hand, are “sacred signs which bear resemblance to the Sacraments”. They render a person more ready to receive grace- saying a blessing over a meal is a sacramental. We offer our lives and thanks for our food, thus rendering us more ready to receive and appreciate God’s providence. There are many other examples. Thus, in the scene where Mary is wiping up the Precious Blood, she is paying exquisite reverence and love for a Sacrament (part of the Eucharist). Christ’s blood saves us, and she is showing again her important role, because she alone sees It for what It really is, salvation- each drop enough to save the whole world.

Another similar example of the reverence for Sacraments and Sacramentals in The Passion is Veronica’s veil. This is an old and beautiful tradition handed down largely by word of mouth over the centuries. The imprint of the face of the Suffering Savior was kept in different places through the centuries.

A very important Marian scene is when Jesus is carrying His cross, and the film cross-cuts between Mary walking through one side of the road, and the Devil walking on the other. They are facing each other, at war. This is a visual rendering of another important point in Catholic spirituality. There is a tradition that at the end of time, that Mary will be at war with the Devil- that she will, in her intercession with Her Son, be given a role in the Triumph of Christ over the Devil. This is most clearly delineated in Scripture in the Apocalypse, when the dragon tries to slay the Woman in childbirth. This Woman is both a figure of Mary and a figure of the Church at the End of Days. Often, mystical writings, like the Apocalypse, carry double meanings, and require interpretation by the Church.

In 1997, there was a furor over whether or not Pope John Paul II would make the solemn, infallible, ex cathedra statement, officially giving Mary a title traditionally ascribed to her, “Co- Redemptrix”. This caused an uproar among those Catholics and Protestants who were hoping for some ecumenical meeting ground. Like those ecumenicalists at the time of the declaration of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception in the 50’s, many believed that this would further divide Catholics and Protestants. What most people do not understand is that these doctrines have been part of Catholic spirituality for many centuries. The traditions are then codified, defined and declared dogmatically so that there is no confusion or loss over time of the traditional understanding. The essence of Co-Redemptrix is that Christ came to us through Mary (the source of this miracle, of course, being God Himself). She is the new Ark of the Covenant in her maternity- and this really cannot be disputed. If Christ is God, as all we who call ourselves Christians ostensibly believe, then everything surrounding His life and existence has transcendent importance. Every little meal made for Him, every sacrifice a mother makes, and especially the suffering she bore from the very beginning of her maternity to the end of the Passion of Jesus, takes on salvific importance because of who He was. Thus is the Co-Redemptrix, a grand title, giving honor where honor is due. Although Mary was not the source of salvation, and she is an infinite distance from Our Lord, as a creature to a Creator, she is “blessed above all women”. Christ came to us through her, and I mean that literally; not ‘through’ as in ‘because of’, but actually ‘through’ as through a door. We see this role of Co-Redemptrix in the movie in the most moving way, when she begs John to get her to Jesus on the Via Dolorosa, and she runs to him, as she did once when he fell as a child. He has fallen once again under the weight of the Cross; and who will forget the way His face grew luminous as He recognized her, she saying, “I’m here, I’m here”; and the way He held her face, stood, and said, “See, Mother, how I make all things new?” It was so clear how her love spurred on His infinite love, to even greater heights than the infinite height it already encompassed.

Finally, we reach Calvary. This is the climax of the movie, the Climax of History. Gibson does some beautiful flashbacks to the scene of the Last Supper, or the Jewish Passover Meal. St. John, the only apostle on Calvary, goes through a process of realization that the words spoken at the Last Supper, “This is My Body” and “This is My Blood” were literal, as Jesus tells crowds of people in John’s Gospel even before the Passover meal. The Passover Meal, which was the Last Supper, was much more ritualized than most people understand. It was more like a church service, with symbols and singing and prayers and special vestments. In fact, if looked at side by side, the liturgy is most close to a Tridentine Rite Roman Catholic Pontifical High Mass. In the Jewish Passover Meal, there were four cups of wine taken at different intervals of the meal, and the ceremony of the unleavened bread was separate from the other parts of the meal. At the third cup is where Christ spoke the words “This is My Blood” and at the breaking of the unleavened bread, the ‘manna from heaven’ is when He spoke the words, “This is My Body, broken for you.” He did not take the fourth cup, called the Cup of Consummation, until He says, on the Cross, “I thirst” and they give him a taste of gall (vinegar-wine), and then says, “It is consummated”. St. John realizes that Our Lord is still celebrating the Passover Meal on Calvary, in fact, He has fulfilled it. All the rituals of the Old Testament, and the Temple, are not trashed, they are fulfilled. His broken body IS the unleavened bread, His spilled Blood IS the wine, the Cup of Consummation. He asked His apostles to carry on this ritual, to carry on His Real Presence, to carry on His sublime sacrifice on Calvary. He did not leave us empty symbols, but He left Himself: “I will be with you until the end of time”; “My name is great among the Gentiles, and My sacrifices are offered up every hour from where the sun rises to its setting”

As Jesus is hanging on the Cross, His mother approaches tenderly and kisses His ripped toe. She begs, “Son, let me die with you.” He responds by giving her to St. John as mother and St. John to her as son. His response, deeper than words, but clear as the Blood dripping on the ground, is that the newborn Church needed a Mother, needed the person who knew Him best and loved Him best. He was giving her a new role, now not only His mother but the Mother of the faithful, “all generations shall call me blessed”. He gave her to St. John in particular because St. John was the only apostle there.

I once said to my parents (Presbyterians), after coming home to the Church, that one cannot understand the faith of our fathers without living it: “For it is not by understanding, but by faith.” Belief is a grace, and it works like a spiral, you delve deeper and then you come back upon truths and realities that once looked strange, because you had not lived them- and they appear suddenly beautiful, full of light. Protestants would understand this in the statement,"The Cross is foolishness to those who are perishing”. Such is Catholicism. You must live with it to understand it. It requires the gift of faith and one’s own gift of obedience, like the obedience of Mary, Theotokos.

St. Catherine of Siena 

No Trace of A Leper's Scar

Icon and Essay by T.R. Kozinski

St. Catherine of Siena was a young girl of no worldly consequence, like Mary of Nazareth, when the Lord of Heaven and Earth called on her. She was one of many children in a middle-class sort of family; she was a woman, she was unmarried, she was not a professed religious. One gets the impression that she was a beauty- a physically classical beauty. But perhaps, it is the spirit intertwined with the flesh which has come down through the centuries, giving artists the impression of beauty. Perhaps, more likely, it is both.

Our Lord chose St. Catherine to be “the humble that confounds the wise”. She follows in the footsteps of Daniel, Isaiah, Our Blessed Mother, St. John the Baptist, and all the prophets who cried in the deserts and called men back to their God. It is truly a a miraculous life, hers, that led her from a small girl’s chamber turned prayer and penance cell to the courts of the Pope and of kings. She was a Spouse of Christ, a peacemaker, a mystic, a counselor, a comforter, a prophetess, a lion and a lamb living together in the same person. Also, like Our Lord, she was a teacher as well. Her greatest work is The Dialogues; although she would probably say it was all God’s and that He only used her hand. For her profound teaching, she was named Doctor of the Church, one of three women elevated to this status.

This icon is concerned particularly on one of St. Catherine’s teachings on the Sacrament of Penance, or Confession. She taught that sin is like a leprosy of the soul, and that the Sacrament of Penance is in reality, the bathing of those ulcerated sores in His Precious Blood. The icon shows St. Catherine, showing us the reality of the Sacrament of Penance: her arm bears the nodules, the lesions and the ulcerated sores- all symptoms of leprosy- and the cleansing Blood of Christ.

Leprosy is a disease which occurs by the contraction of a bacteria. It can show on the skin by small nodules, or lesions which make that area of the skin less sensitive. This insensitivity can lead to further wounding due to lack of feeling in the leprous area. Leprosy can also ulcerate, eating away at the extremities of the body. Early recognition of the disease is crucial in its successful treatment. In eras when treatment was unknown, lepers were ostracized into colonies and mostly forgotten by the larger society around them.

Picture Jesus, “unknown except by the way the dust swirled about His feet”*, walking toward a leper sitting alone and hunched over, a small wooden bowl near a mutilated foot. Jesus leans over the pile of rags and gently says, “Son, do you wish to be clean?” A small eye peeks out from a dirty hood, a tear there for only Jesus to see. A nod. A touch of a pure and clean hand, emanating warmth, real physical warmth. The leper feels his very blood change temperature, and he feels the need to stand and stretch. He does, and shaking the extra rags off his back, smiles at Jesus. As the Saviour walks away, the new man follows Him, along with the rest of the crowd. There is no trace of any scar left on his body.

Picture yourself. Sin came in small nodules, small failings, and you didn’t pay attention. Slowly, those areas became less sensitive, to homilies, friends, concerned loved ones. You began to hide that area of your life, and the disease ate its way into the very center of your being. It became a monstrous, impossible task to go to confession. Finally, in some desperate moment of grace, you decided to go. And as the words of absolution flowed, so did His Blood. You are clean, in His eyes, no trace of a scar. Now follow Him.

St. Catherine of Siena, lowly woman, a spouse of Christ, Doctor of the Church, pray for us. Pray for all of us who need to receive Christ’s mercy in the Sacrament of Penance.

*Quote from a song by Bruce Cockburn

Dream, Pray 

Christ and a Caterpillar

When I was a Protestant and a college student, I wanted to know Christ: not like talking to Him on the telephone, which was how I experienced prayer- but to be in His presence. I knew I was unworthy, still am, but there was some corner of me that knew that He wanted me there; that that was where I would begin to grow. Finally, I did enter into His presence, and because I was, by His grace, looking for it and believed it to be possible, recognized it at once in the small wafer inside the monstrance of a Catholic Church. My next line of thinking was, “If He is here in a real and present way, then this must be His Church.” This sustained me all the way through my dark, lonely and yet wonderful journey home to Rome.

Now, seven years after confirmation and First Communion, I am feeling the longing and the need to be Christ for others. I feel as in the dark about this as I did as a Protestant praying for something I’d never heard of before. How am I to be Christ? The instant I write something or do something good, I’m like the blow-fish, puffed up so that I’m unrecognizable and no one is able to swallow me. I fail daily, on some days hourly, to imitate Christ. I am like a caterpillar dreaming of flying.

A caterpillar, crawling on the ground and so vulnerable to attack from birds, feet and even just making a wrong turn and being fried like an egg on the sidewalk, is no creature that should be dreaming of flying. The most prudent course for it is to take lessons from the earthworm and go underground. And yet this caterpillar does dream; in its very desire, it cocoons itself in order to delve deeper into the dream. Then God produces a miracle in its very make-up, which scientists call metamorphosis.

In order to be Christ, to pass Him on to others, He must work this miracle in me. I have to be willing to dream, to pray past the attacking birds and the burning sidewalks. I have to believe past what is apparent to me as a caterpillar- and my ugliness and insufficiency.

An essential part of this metamorphosis is the aid of Our Blessed Mother, at least, in my case. St. Louis de Montfort asserts that especially in the latter days, when things are so confusing and dark, that Our Lady’s intercession in making saints, making Little Christs, will be essential for everyone. So a process of consecration to Our Lady is the beginning of this for me. “I want to know Christ in His suffering so that I may participate in the glory of His Resurrection” (paraphrased from St. Paul). Our Lady understood this road better than anyone besides Our Lord, and she has been appointed to walk with us along the way, as our mother.

In the writings of the saints, a common theme is resounded: that to go to Christ, to be Christ, is to love your neighbor. The greatest thing one can do in this life, the greatest thing one can do with one’s gifts is to communicate Christ to another. Loving God, living in God, is to imitate Him: and He has laid His own life down for us caterpillars: He waits for us to crawl into the sanctuary and receive Him as a humble wafer.Fr. Von Zeller, in his book The Choice of God, elucidates this process of communicating Christ. And perhaps it is in the attempts, failures and small successes of communicating Christ that He does finally deign to reach down and begin metamorphosis.

Fr. Von Zeller says: “To communicate Christ…it means that there will be one of you in Christ where there were two before.” What a glorious task! What joy! He goes on: “The giving of Christ to others depends upon living in Christ oneself…it will produce a great longing to give others to God.” 

Perhaps, like many parts of the spiritual life, there is a paradox here, one that is only solved by the person of Christ Himself, doing all the essential work. Yet we have to cooperate with our wills, and to be willing to dream of flying. Once we have begun, we begin not to induce the knowledge of Christ into others, but rather to educe what we find in them which bears affinity to Christ. Von Zeller says, “ In order to influence another person we have to have understanding of that person. There has to be sympathy before there can be communication.” Instead of sympathy, I like the Italian word, ‘simpatico’. This means a kind of easy, affectionate affinity and friendship with another person. Most often this happens with people who have naturally similar tastes and world-views, but I venture to say here that the more Christ-like a person is, the more a saint, the more people he will be able to have ‘simpatico’ with; the more humble and simple a person is, the more people he can relate to-for they are all viewed as above himself, more interesting than himself, and yet like himself. A saint is a true “common man”.

What, though, of the truism that saints, and Christ Himself, were and are persecuted? I think of Christ Himself, who had simpatico with individual Pharisees like Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, with harlots like Mary Magdalene, with fishermen like Peter and Romans like the Centurion. It was when they came to Him with an open heart, they already bore something of Himself, a humility or a searching. It was the proud, the self-sufficient whom He did not reach. Von Zeller uses a Latin term to explain this: Quidquid recipitur est in recipiente secundum modum recipientis- “ Whatever is received is received according to the disposition of the recipient’. Von Zeller further explains: “ The man who expects the Kingdom of God to be a threepenny bit receives the Kingdom of God as a threepenny bit. The sheer grace of God may widen him- nothing else will.”

The Little Christ is supposed to “stimulate the love of God he finds.” And, “ it is idle to worry about the effect we are producing on souls: we have not been asked to produce effects on them- God must be left to do that- but to serve them. All we have to consider is the effect His influence is having on us- whether or not we are yielding completely to the impact of His character upon ours. My good impression upon the world counts for nothing, nothing at all; what matter is His impression upon me, and upon souls… ‘not changing nature but perfecting the will’ says St. John Chrysostom of the Holy Spirit’s work in the soul; ‘finding a publican and producing an evangelist, finding a persecutor and producing an apostle, finding a thief and leading him into paradise, finding a harlot and putting her on an equality with virgins.’”

And, I might add, poetically speaking of myself: finding a caterpillar and: I dream, I pray, I believe: producing a butterfly.