Some interesting readings at Mass today. The second reading was from the Letter of James and is one that has occasioned much comment.
Jas 2:14-18
What good is it, my brothers and sisters,if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister has nothing to wear and has no food for the day,and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well,” but you do not give them the necessities of the body,what good is it? So also faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead.
Indeed someone might say,“You have faith and I have works.” Demonstrate your faith to me without works,and I will demonstrate my faith to you from my works.
The Gospel for the day (Mk 8:27-35, too long to reproduce here) drives this point home. Christ asks His disciples what other people think of Him before inquiring "But who do you say that I am?" Peter demonstrates his faith by saying "You are the Christ." The best known part of the passage has Him later rebuking Peter ("Get behind me, Satan") for "...thinking not as God does but as men do." This, though, is not the crucial part of the passage. Rather, the critical line is Christ's admonition for one who would serve Him to "...deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me." Belief is not enough; we are called to live the faith we profess.
But what it all comes back to in the end is grace. Faith itself is a gift that we do not, cannot deserve. Not sola fide as some theologians have suggested, but sola gratia. Salvation, by any measure, is not rooted in us but in the benevolence, the grace of a God who love His creation enough to offer that salvation to us. Faith and works are both the products, first and foremost of grace. How great indeed is our God who offers us this gift.
Peace and God bless!
Showing posts with label theology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label theology. Show all posts
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
All I can say is "try it."
My original intent was to post something about prayer. I actually got pretty deep into two different versions, both variations considering a line about prayer from C.S. Lewis's The Screwtape Letters. Both were heavily academic, and you'll notice that neither one appears here. Why? Because they just seemed inadequate while I was writing them. Prayer isn't an academic thing, and it's not something that I'm capable of elucidating right now. To understand prayer, you need to...pray. So instead of wasting copious amounts of virtual ink on something I can't yet hope to explain adequately, I'm going to go pray Compline...and then sleep, since 6:30 will get here mighty early tomorrow. Oh well.
God, come to my assistance!
Lord, make haste to help me!
Peace and God bless!
God, come to my assistance!
Lord, make haste to help me!
Peace and God bless!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Reflections
So the first class of second year is over. In some ways it was a great way to begin: interesting material, short duration, and for all intents and purposes impossible to fail -- low stress = happy students. Next up, starting tomorrow morning, will be cardiology. The syllabus is enormous, easily several hundred pages long, but this will be one of the most interesting and useful courses we've had so far. It'll be a huge volume of material, so some other things may end up sliding a bit.
On another note, since it's Sunday, I just want to take a moment to consider the reading from St. Paul's letter to the Ephesians today. It's probably one of the most uncomfortable readings in Scripture from our modern perspective. I'll be honest, I've never understood it particularly well myself, so I'm probably not the best one the explain it, but something struck me while listening to the reading today, so I figured I'd write it down and see if it made sense.
"Wives, be subordinate to your husbands." The statement offends modern sensibilities. It appears to oppose everything that we're supposed to stand for. It's a statement that few homilists will dare to approach in any detail. However, one Dominican priest of my acquaintance bravely attempted to explain once that the husband's relationship with his wife is to mirror that of Christ with the Church. There was a lot more to it than that, but that was the central point. Until now, I haven't really been able to come up with a sufficient explanation of what that meant.
Today, as I was contemplating the reading, I realized that Christ not only gave His life for His Church, but that He has joined Himself to the Church, that He lives for the Church. It is her life for which He is primarily concerned; He cares more for His Church than for His own life. He sacrificed everything that His bride might live. And it is this that a husband must do in his own life. He is to place his wife before himself in all things, to be her shield and her sounding board, her friend, her shoulder to cry on, and her partner. It is his job to care for her when she can't care for herself. I should probably explain this before getting myself yelled at: a wife's first concern is not for herself either, particularly when she becomes a mother. And when you live for another, you tend to neglect yourself, or have unrealistic expectations of yourself. Often, we can push ourselves too far, and even when someone else points this out, we don't want to hear it. And so, it is the part of the husband to look out for his wife's well-being in all things, even if it means sacrificing himself. Thus, if the husband is doing his job, his wife would be smart to pay attention to what he says. Since she isn't concerned with herself, she should be guided by the one who is concerned for her.
Anyway, I don't know if any of that made any sense. Probably not. Either way, those are my thoughts for the evening. More in the near future.
Peace and God bless!
On another note, since it's Sunday, I just want to take a moment to consider the reading from St. Paul's letter to the Ephesians today. It's probably one of the most uncomfortable readings in Scripture from our modern perspective. I'll be honest, I've never understood it particularly well myself, so I'm probably not the best one the explain it, but something struck me while listening to the reading today, so I figured I'd write it down and see if it made sense.
"Wives, be subordinate to your husbands." The statement offends modern sensibilities. It appears to oppose everything that we're supposed to stand for. It's a statement that few homilists will dare to approach in any detail. However, one Dominican priest of my acquaintance bravely attempted to explain once that the husband's relationship with his wife is to mirror that of Christ with the Church. There was a lot more to it than that, but that was the central point. Until now, I haven't really been able to come up with a sufficient explanation of what that meant.
Today, as I was contemplating the reading, I realized that Christ not only gave His life for His Church, but that He has joined Himself to the Church, that He lives for the Church. It is her life for which He is primarily concerned; He cares more for His Church than for His own life. He sacrificed everything that His bride might live. And it is this that a husband must do in his own life. He is to place his wife before himself in all things, to be her shield and her sounding board, her friend, her shoulder to cry on, and her partner. It is his job to care for her when she can't care for herself. I should probably explain this before getting myself yelled at: a wife's first concern is not for herself either, particularly when she becomes a mother. And when you live for another, you tend to neglect yourself, or have unrealistic expectations of yourself. Often, we can push ourselves too far, and even when someone else points this out, we don't want to hear it. And so, it is the part of the husband to look out for his wife's well-being in all things, even if it means sacrificing himself. Thus, if the husband is doing his job, his wife would be smart to pay attention to what he says. Since she isn't concerned with herself, she should be guided by the one who is concerned for her.
Anyway, I don't know if any of that made any sense. Probably not. Either way, those are my thoughts for the evening. More in the near future.
Peace and God bless!
Monday, August 10, 2009
It's all in the way you look at it...
Traveling back to Pittsburgh from home is, as I believe I've mentioned before, always a struggle. It's always tough to leave Providence again, and to deal with the nagging feeling that I'm journeying in the wrong direction. The hardest part, without fail, is saying goodbye...saying goodbye to my parents, my brothers, my sisters, knowing that I'm not going to see them for months. These were the thoughts running through my head as I brooded on my return to the Steel City.
One of the most depressing thoughts that occurred to me was that every "hello" is merely the prelude to an inevitable "goodbye." No matter the circumstances, every human relationship ends up in parting. As you can imagine, this did little to improve my state of mind.
But as I thought about it a little more, I realized that my original impulse couldn't be more wrong, that in fact I had everything backwards. It is not that goodbyes are the unavoidable product of hellos, but that the partings are preludes to reunion. This is, in my opinion, one of the greatest comforts of the Catholic faith: the realization that even death is merely a temporary separation. So tonight, I won't think of the goodbyes that are behind me, but of the hellos that are yet to come.
"Consequently, friendship is, as it were, concomitant with perfect happiness." --St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae Ia IIae Q4 a8 ad 3
Peace and God bless!
One of the most depressing thoughts that occurred to me was that every "hello" is merely the prelude to an inevitable "goodbye." No matter the circumstances, every human relationship ends up in parting. As you can imagine, this did little to improve my state of mind.
But as I thought about it a little more, I realized that my original impulse couldn't be more wrong, that in fact I had everything backwards. It is not that goodbyes are the unavoidable product of hellos, but that the partings are preludes to reunion. This is, in my opinion, one of the greatest comforts of the Catholic faith: the realization that even death is merely a temporary separation. So tonight, I won't think of the goodbyes that are behind me, but of the hellos that are yet to come.
"Consequently, friendship is, as it were, concomitant with perfect happiness." --St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae Ia IIae Q4 a8 ad 3
Peace and God bless!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
On Ordinary Time
Some brief thoughts on the season of Ordinary Time:
Despite the fact that there's no big holiday associated with it, there's nothing "ordinary" about it. Nor is it merely marking time while we wait for Advent to begin or Easter to arrive or some such. Ordinary Time is a remarkable and beautiful season in its own right, and in some ways it is perhaps the most sublime liturgical season of all.
During Advent and Lent we prepare ourselves for the celebrations of Christmas and Easter. We celebrate the great mysteries that define our faith: the Incarnation, the Crucifixion, and the Resurrection. We celebrate the greatness of God as it is made manifest in those mysteries. But in Ordinary Time, we celebrate the greatness of God because He is God. We need no other reason.
It is indeed a time to focus on the ordinary, on things to which we would normally not give a second thought. When we begin to contemplate the ordinary, we quickly arrive at the realization that there is nothing "ordinary" about it. The simplest things -- a daisy, a robin, the smile of a person that you see every day -- they are all, in their way, exquisite. They are all ordinary, yet they are all extraordinary. They are all the gifts of God's wisdom and grace. They can all be powerful and awe-inspiring reminders of the majesty and the unbounded love of Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
So take a moment today to think about something ordinary. On closer inspection, you may just find that it's not so commonplace after all. For sometimes the most routine things -- like Ordinary Time -- may just be the most extraordinary.
Peace and God bless!
Despite the fact that there's no big holiday associated with it, there's nothing "ordinary" about it. Nor is it merely marking time while we wait for Advent to begin or Easter to arrive or some such. Ordinary Time is a remarkable and beautiful season in its own right, and in some ways it is perhaps the most sublime liturgical season of all.
During Advent and Lent we prepare ourselves for the celebrations of Christmas and Easter. We celebrate the great mysteries that define our faith: the Incarnation, the Crucifixion, and the Resurrection. We celebrate the greatness of God as it is made manifest in those mysteries. But in Ordinary Time, we celebrate the greatness of God because He is God. We need no other reason.
It is indeed a time to focus on the ordinary, on things to which we would normally not give a second thought. When we begin to contemplate the ordinary, we quickly arrive at the realization that there is nothing "ordinary" about it. The simplest things -- a daisy, a robin, the smile of a person that you see every day -- they are all, in their way, exquisite. They are all ordinary, yet they are all extraordinary. They are all the gifts of God's wisdom and grace. They can all be powerful and awe-inspiring reminders of the majesty and the unbounded love of Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
So take a moment today to think about something ordinary. On closer inspection, you may just find that it's not so commonplace after all. For sometimes the most routine things -- like Ordinary Time -- may just be the most extraordinary.
Peace and God bless!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
