Apologetics – Page 28

Why did John the Baptist have trouble recognizing Jesus? (and more!)

In this episode of Catholic Answers Live (1/6/15), Jimmy answers the following questions:

I don’t feel that receiving communion in the hand is appropriate. If indeed, this is the Real Presence and every particle is fully Jesus, why was it approved to receive communion in the hand in the first place given the ability to unintentionally desecrate the consecrated host?
If the Blessed Virgin Mary was conceived without original sin, did she experience a natural death?
How can I effectively talk to people about the Faith without being abrasive?
Wasn’t the original intent for receiving Holy Communion on the tongue to avoid spillage of the particles of the consecrated host rather than for reverence?
Does the Church teach that Mary directly helps us or is her assistance via her intercession for us to God
How can someone be tempted to do something that’s impossible for them to do?
In the Chaplet of Divine Mercy, I have a problem with the statement, “Eternal Father, I offer You the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Your dearly beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ…” Can you explain the meaning of this line in the Chaplet?
Since John the Baptist’s mother recognized the Savior in Mary’s womb, why didn’t John himself recognize Him?
If Catholics receive grace through the sacraments, how do non-Catholics receive the sanctifying grace to be saved?
What is the Church’s stand on pornography from a pro-life perspective?
How can you speak with adult children who are leaning toward New Age thinking, expressing that love is the most important thing, finding that the riches of the Vatican are a problem, etc.?

Use the player at the bottom of the post or CLICK HERE TO LISTEN.

References to the Temple Operating After A.D. 70?

Scholars are frequently forced to play detective to determine when an ancient book was written.

Ancient books did not have copyright dates neatly printed on a page at the front of the book. Frequently, they did not contain any explicit reference to the year in which they were written.

As a result, scholars have to look for clues within the books to figure out approximately when the work was written.

The Significance of 70

A potentially important clue for books written in the first few centuries B.C. and A.D. is what the book says about the temple in Jerusalem, for we know that the temple was destroyed by the Romans in late A.D. 70.

If a book refers to the temple as still standing and in operation, that’s a clue that the book was written before the temple’s destruction, while if it refers to the temple being destroyed then that’s a sign it was written afterward.

One book of the New Testament that appears to refer to the temple still being in operation is the book of Hebrews, where we read:

For since the law has but a shadow of the good things to come instead of the true form of these realities, it can never, by the same sacrifices which are continually offered year after year, make perfect those who draw near. Otherwise, would they not have ceased to be offered? . . .

And every priest stands daily at his service, offering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins [Heb. 10:1-2, 11].

Note the present tenses: The sacrifices “are continually offered” year after year. The priest “stands daily” at his service, “offering repeatedly” the sacrifices. That strongly suggests that the Jerusalem temple was still in operation.

The thing that makes it absolutely certain is the question, “Otherwise, would they not have ceased to be offered?”

In A.D. 70, they did cease to be offered, and the author of Hebrews is intensely concerned that his audience of Christian Jews remain firm in their faith in Jesus and not return to non-Christian Jewish practice.

If he were writing after the temple had been destroyed, in keeping with Jesus’ prophecy (Matt. 24:1-2, Mark 13:1-2, Luke 21:5-6), the author could not have failed to point this out—both as a fulfillment of the Lord’s prophecy, as a sign of God’s rejection of non-Christian Jewish sacrifices, and as a sign of the inferiority of the Jewish temple sacrifices compared to the value of Christ’s own sacrifice (the very point he is arguing at the moment).

A Counter Claim

Some scholars raise an objection at this point. For example, William L. Lane objected to the above argument, in part because of what he referred to as “timeless” present tense verbs used to describe the temple and its sacrifices after it had been destroyed.

Lane thought that Hebrews was written before A.D. 70 (he assigned it tentatively to the period between A.D. 64 and 68), but he did not think that the argument from present tense references to the temple as still functioning was sufficient, because he thought there were other, similar references made in documents written after the temple was destroyed—that is, references that made it sound as if the temple were still functioning, when it wasn’t.

This is a meme in some scholarly circles, but it needs to be backed up. If there are such references, we need to look at them and see how much doubt they actually cast on the argument.

Fortunately, Lane provided a list of four such references, writing:

For similar use of such “timeless” presents in describing the Temple itself and its sacrifices after the Temple had been destroyed, see Jos., Ant. 4.224–57; 1 Clem 41:2; Barn. 7–8; Diogn. 3 [Word Biblical Commentary: Volume 47a: Hebrews 1–8, lxiii].

The abbreviations Lane uses may not be familiar, so here are the four sources he refers to, spelled out:

Josephus’s Antiquities of the Jews, 4:8:17-23[224-257]
1 Clement 41:2
Epistle of Barnabas 7-8
Epistle to Diognetus 3

How much doubt do these references cast on the argument described above?

Not much.

The Present Tense

Lane is correct that the present tense sometimes gets used in a way that does not refer to the present time. Consider the following statements:

Kittens are cute.
Water freezes at 32 degrees Fahrenheit.
Stars with more than a certain amount of mass become black holes.
Mark Twain is Samuel Clemens.
In Huckleberry Finn, Twain explores aspects of the human condition through the eyes of a boy who is the son of the town drunk.
As Shakespeare says, “To be or not to be—that is the question.”
Hamlet is a most remarkable character.
The priest pours the blood of the sacrifice at the foot of the altar.
A blind man comes up to Jesus and says, “Lord, I would receive my sight.”

In each of these sentences, the main verbs are in the present tense (are, freezes, become, is, explores, says, is, pours, comes, says), yet none of them refers to a specific action occurring in the present time.

Some of them refer to general truths that apply without respect to time. The last refers to events actually occurring in past time (this is known as the “historical” present).

Linguists and biblical scholars could classify these uses of the present tense in different ways, but Lane is correct that the present tense does not always refer to an event occurring in present time.

As a result, it’s possible for there to be statements using the present tense to describe the temple and its operations even after its destruction.

Marked vs. Unmarked

I’m sure that there are present-tense descriptions of the temple written after its destruction. In fact, I’m sure that there are books out there written in the last century—more than 1,800 years after its destruction—that use the present tense in this way.

For example, I can imagine scholarly discussions of how the temple rituals operated sliding into the present tense (“The priest pours the blood of the sacrifice at the foot of the altar”).

I’m also sure that there are historical novels set before A.D. 70 describing the temple as still in operation, and they may sometimes use the present tense when doing so.

But in both of these cases, the use of the present tense is “marked” in such a way that the reader knows it is not describing a present reality. There will be some kind of marker in the text that cues the reader to this fact.

To see how this works, consider the historical present we referred to above. This frequently occurs in the Greek text of the Gospels, and its purpose is (frequently) to make the story more vivid for the reader, as if he himself were witnessing the events in realtime.

But the reader knows, as soon as he starts reading the Gospels, that they describe the events of the life and ministry of Jesus of Nazareth—not events occurring in the world right now, as the reader is reading.

These uses of the present tense are thus “marked” for the reader as referring to events that are not occurring in the present.

In the same way, a modern discussion of how the temple rituals used to be performed will be similarly marked. Indeed, any such discussion is likely to have a statement somewhere near its beginning that explicitly points out that the temple was destroyed in A.D. 70.

Similarly, any historical novel—by the fact that the reader knows it is a historical novel—is marked as describing events occurring in the past (if they occurred at all).

But what if we are reading an ancient, non-fiction document that seems to speak of the temple as still in operation and does not mark the text as referring to no-longer current events?

What if we read an ancient document that simply refers to sacrifices as being performed in Jerusalem?

Unless there is something else affecting the text (a marker of the type we’ve been discussing) then the natural interpretation is to assign the text a date before the destruction of the temple.

If you want to overturn that presumption then you’d need to show that there was a strong tradition—in use at the time—of unmarked, present-tense references to the temple and its operations that continued to be used after its destruction.

Here is where Lane’s case encounters significant problems.

How Many References?

Lane provided us with four references that he saw as “timeless” presents written after the temple was destroyed.

That’s not a lot.

Four cases could simple be the result of random authorial usage. That’s not nearly enough to show that there was an established usage at the time.

Lane, who regrettably is no longer with us, might say that there are many more examples he could have given, but he did not give them, and I haven’t (yet) found other authors providing longer, more substantial lists.

What I have to go by is the list that Lane provides, and it’s not a list that’s long enough to document an established usage.

Another problem is that the four passages Lane cite turn out to be very weak examples.

Let’s look at each of them.

Josephus

Lane’s first example comes from the writings of the Jewish historian Josephus. Here he is on solid ground in identifying a source that dates from after the destruction of the temple.

Josephus was a combatant in the Jewish War that climaxed with the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple. After the war, he began a literary career, and all of his surviving writings date from this period.

In the A.D. 90s, he wrote his Jewish Antiquities, which is the work that Lane cites.

Although Lane refers to a fairly lengthy passage from the Antiquities (around 1,600 words in Whiston’s translation), there is only one portion of it that refers to the temple:

But as to the ripe fruits, let them carry that which is ripe first of all into the temple; and when they have blessed God for that land which bare them, and which he had given them for a possession, when they have also offered those sacrifices which the Law has commanded them to bring, let them give the firstfruits to the priests.

But when anyone hath done this, and hath brought the tithe of all that he has, together with those firstfruits that are for the Levites, and for the festivals, and when he is about to go home, let him stand before the holy house, and return thanks to God, that he hath delivered them from the injurious treatment they had in Egypt [Jewish Antiquities 4:8:22(241-242)].

This passage does use the present tense, even in English (“let them carry that . . . into the temple,” “let them give the firstfruits,” “let him stand before the holy house”).

But there is something to be noticed about these verbs: In both Greek and English, they aren’t just in the present tense; they are in the imperative mood. In other words, they are commands.

That marks them not as descriptions of things that are happening but as things that should happen (at least in some circumstances, such as having an operating temple).

Right there, that tells us that this passage is not going to help us document an existing usage of unmarked present tenses for the temple after its destruction, because these presents are marked.

And it isn’t just the imperative mood that does that. It’s the whole context.

If you read the text surrounding the portion of the Antiquities that Lane cites, you discover that it’s all in a huge speech given by Moses. Here is how Josephus introduces it:

When forty years were completed, within thirty days, Moses gathered the congregation together near Jordan, where the city Abila now stands, a place full of palm trees; and all the people being come together, he spake thus to them [op. cit. 4:8:1(176)].

This is adapted from the opening of Deuteronomy (see Deut. 1:1-5), and the whole speech is, in fact, Josephus’s rewriting of Deuteronomy, with the passage quoted above being his paraphrase and condensation of the laws of tithe and firstfruits found in Deuteronomy 12-15 and 26.

Even the title given to this chapter by Whiston (“The Polity Settled by Moses; and How He Disappeared from Among Mankind”) tells you that this is not an unmarked reference to the temple and its operations. This is Josephus’s retelling of things said by Moses more than a thousand years earlier!

The present tenses used in this chapter are thus marked by the context as occurring in a speech set in the distant past.

Lane’s citation from Josephus thus does not provide the kind of reference we need.

St. Clement of Rome

Lane’s second reference is from 1 Clement—a first century letter written to the church at Corinth by St. Clement of Rome. In the course of the letter, he writes:

Not in every place, brethren, are the continual daily sacrifices offered, or the freewill offerings, or the sin offerings and the trespass offerings, but in Jerusalem alone.

And even there the offering is not made in every place, but before the sanctuary in the court of the altar; and this too through the high priest and the afore said ministers, after that the victim to be offered hath been inspected for blemishes [1 Clement 41:2].

Here we have precisely what we don’t have in Josephus: a reference to the temple as if it’s still functioning in Jerusalem, using the present tense and in the indicative (rather than imperative) mood: the continual daily sacrifices “are . . .offered” in Jerusalem. The offering “is . . . made” before the sanctuary in the court of the altar, through the high priest and the afore said ministers.

These presents aren’t marked by anything in the text as occurring in the past or being descriptions of what should happen in the ideal.

Good stuff. Just what we need as evidence.

If it was written after the destruction of Jerusalem.

The trouble is . . . it wasn’t.

Although 1 Clement is commonly dated to the A.D. 90s, this date is erroneous.

The reference to the temple still operating is, in fact, a major clue that 1 Clement was written before the temple’s destruction, but it is not the only such clue.

A variety of scholars, including John A. T. Robinson (Redating the New Testament) and William Jurgens (Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. 1) have discussed clues in the letter that point to a date considerably earlier than the A.D. 90s.

For example, the names of the letter carriers mentioned in the text (Claudius Ephebus, Valerius Bito, and Fortunatus) indicate that two of them were freedmen of the Emperor Claudius and his wife Valeria Messalina. Given the way manumission worked in Rome, slaves were not freed before a certain age, and these men would have been far too old to serve as letter carriers in the A.D. 90s.

The most thorough study of the date of 1 Clement at present is Thomas J. Herron’s Clement and the Early Church of Rome: On the Dating of Clement’s First Epistle to the Corinthians. It is highly worth reading.

In any event, 1 Clement was not written in the A.D. 90s. Instead, clues in the letter show that it can be dated to a fairly narrow window of time between the fall of the Emperor Vitellius in December of 69 and the destruction of the temple in August of 70.

The Epistle of Barnabas

Lane’s third example is from the Epistle of Barnabas (an anonymous work not actually written by the apostle Barnabas).

This work was written after the destruction of the temple. In fact, it may be the earliest such Christian work that presently survives.

The destruction of the temple is clearly referred to as an accomplished fact in the text:

Finally, I will also speak to you about the temple, and how those wretched men went astray and set their hope on the building, as though it were God’s house, and not on their God who created them. . . . For because they went to war, it was torn down by their enemies [Epistle of Barnabas, 16:1, 4].

We are on solid ground, therefore, in seeing this as a post-70 work. But what does it say in the passage that Lane refers to?

Again, Lane cites a fairly lengthy passage (around 1,000 words), but we can deal with it in shorter space. At this point in the epistle, the author is conducting an exercise in typology, and in chapter 7 he explores the Christian typology of the provisions relating to the scapegoat (Leviticus 16), while in chapter 8 he does the same for the provisions related to the red heifer (Numbers 19).

All of the present tenses used in these chapters of Barnabas are marked. They all occur in the process of describing actions performed during a ceremony required by the Mosaic Law and then noting how they correspond, in one way or another, to Christ.

We do not, in these passages, have the present tense being used to describe the temple or its operations without reference to this typological exploration of Old Testament rituals.

Even if there are details of the ceremonies borrowed from recent memory of seeing the rituals performed (as there may be, for Barnabas 8 refers to children taking part in this ritual, and their presence is not mentioned in Numbers), the fundamental frame of reference involves comparing a ritual prescribed in the Old Testament to its fulfillment in Christ.

This is thus markedly different from the kind of reference we have to the temple functioning in 1 Clement.

The Epistle to Diognetus

Lane’s final reference is to the Epistle to Diognetus. This is an early, anonymous work of Christian apologetics.

In chapter 2, the anonymous author describes the Greeks as worshipping idols in the following way:

And as for the honors that you think you are offering them: If they [the idols] are aware of them, then you are in fact insulting them; but if they are not aware, then you are showing them up by worshiping them with the blood and fat of victims [To Diognetus 2:8].

In chapter 3, the author compares this idolatrous worship to the worship offered to the true God by Jews, saying:

The Jews indeed, insofar as they abstain from the kind of worship described above, rightly claim to worship the one God of the universe and to think of him as Master; but insofar as they offer this worship to him in the same way as those already described, they are altogether mistaken.

For whereas the Greeks provide an example of their stupidity by offering things to senseless and deaf images, the Jews, thinking that they are offering these things to God as if he were in need of them, could rightly consider it folly rather than worship [op. cit., 3:2-3].

Here he contrasts the way in which Greeks worship many, false gods with the way Jews worship the true God, but he notes that they offer the same kind of worship: “the blood and fat of victims,” of which the true God is not in need.

This understanding is confirmed just a bit later, when he writes:

In any case, those who imagine that they are offering sacrifices to him by means of blood and fat and whole burnt offerings and are honoring him with these tokens of respect do not seem to me to be the least bit different from those who show the same respect to deaf images: the latter make offerings to things unable to receive the honor, while the former think they offer it to the One who is in need of nothing [op. cit., 3:5].

This does speak of sacrifices as if they were still being performed by Jews. Unlike the reference in Josephus, it isn’t marked as being part of a speech given in the distant past, and unlike the reference in Barnabas, it isn’t marked as a typological reading of an Old Testament ritual. Instead, it looks similar to the straightforward reference found in 1 Clement.

Could it, like 1 Clement, have been written before the destruction of the temple?

I’m not aware of anyone who dates it to this period, but we should be careful, because the popular opinion is that 1 Clement was also written after the temple’s destruction, and that is mistaken.

Michael Holmes summarizes the issue of To Diognetus‘s date this way:

The date of the document is a matter of conjecture as well. Reasonable suggestions range from 117 to after 313. Between 150 and 225 seems the most likely; Lightfoot, Meecham, and Frend favor the earlier of these dates, while R. M. Grant places it somewhat later [The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations of Their Writings (1999 ed.), 530].

That is a wide range of dates, and it illustrates the fact that there is little certainty regarding when this document was written.

The earlier portion of the range (c. 117) comes close to when the temple was in operation. Could the work be dated before its destruction?

To Diognetus is similar to the writings of the other Greek-speaking apologists of the 2nd century, and so it is often date alongside them, but there is no reason, in principle, why it cannot be a forerunner that helped establish the genre of this sort of apologetic writing.

If we are to entertain this possibility then the fact that the author refers to Jews still offering sacrifices could itself be a clue that it was written before the temple’s destruction.

There is even the fact that, later in the work, the author describes himself, saying:

I am not talking about strange things, nor am I engaged in irrational speculation, but having been a disciple of apostles, I am now becoming a teacher of the Gentiles [op. cit., 11:1].

While a person in a later age could describe himself figuratively as a disciple of the apostles, an early author could well have meant that he was literally a disciple of the apostles, which would suggest a first century date.

However, there is a problem here, because there is a break in the text just before this passage, and most scholars think that this statement wasn’t part of the original To Diognetus but was rather part of a second work.

So let’s suppose that the work was written after A.D. 70. What are we to make of its apparent references to ongoing Jewish sacrifice?

Hypothetically, it might refer to sacrifices not taking place at Jerusalem. It does not, after all, specify Jerusalem as the place where these were occurring.

Although the view among the Jewish establishment strongly favored the offering of sacrifices at Jerusalem, this was not universal. There was, in fact, a Jewish temple at Leontopolis in Egypt, and sacrifice was also offered there (as it had been at a previous temple in Elephantine, Egypt).

The temple at Leontopolis was destroyed in A.D. 73, however, because the Romans feared it might become an alternative cultic site for Jews and lead to another rebellion, so the window in which To Diognetus could have been written on that theory would be quite narrow.

Could the sacrifices have been offered elsewhere? While the school of thought that eventually prevailed in Judaism held that sacrifices (with few exceptions) were not to be offered elsewhere, it is possible that, in the wake of the temple’s destruction, some priests tried offering sacrifices elsewhere, but this is unlikely to have been a well-known practice and thus is not likely to be what the author of To Diognetus has in mind.

Instead, if the epistle were written after A.D. 70, he is likely thinking of the customary mode of Jewish worship that prevailed up until the destruction of the temple, and he chooses to speak of it as if it were ongoing because it suited his purpose as a way of showing the superiority of Christian worship of the true God.

On the other hand, if that was his purpose, it is strange that he didn’t mention the temple’s destruction and the end of these sacrifices as a sign of the true God’s rejection of the Jewish mode of worship. That would have suited his purpose even better, and this omission may serve as another indicator of a pre-70 date.

In conclusion, the evidence regarding the Epistle to Diognetus is ambiguous. On the one hand, we have what looks like a reference to Jewish sacrifice as if it is ongoing. On the other hand, there is a great deal of uncertainty about the date of the epistle and what the author has in mind.

This means that, although the epistle might qualify as the kind of evidence Lane needs, the situation is too uncertain to provide a clear, indisputable case.

Furthermore, it is the only such case we have found, and so it may be explained by the idiosyncrasies of a single author. We do not have a basis for proposing an established usage of unmarked present tenses being used to refer to the temple and its operations after A.D. 70.

Implications

The theory proposed by Lane does not ultimately succeeding in casting a great deal of doubt on the idea that present tense references to the temple and its operations can be a significant clue that a document was written before A.D. 70.

However, our examination of the passages cited by Lane does reveal some important cautions that need to be taken into account.

The first of these is that it is not merely any use of the present tense that serves as a clue to a pre-70 date. The use needs to be what we have referred to as an “unmarked” use of the present—that is, one in which the reader is not signaled that the use of the present tense should not be taken as a reference to present time.

Such marking may occur, as in the case of Josephus’s Antiquities of the Jews, when the present tense is used in the course of a speech given long before the destruction of the temple. It also may occur, as in the Epistle of Barnabas, when an Old Testament text or ritual is being analyzed.

A second caution—as we saw in our discussion of the Epistle to Diognetus—is that we need to at least be aware of the fact that sacrifice was not offered exclusively at the Jerusalem temple.

This means that a passage containing a reference to Jerusalem specifically (like the passage in 1 Clement) will be at least a slightly stronger clue of a pre-70 date than a passage referring to Jewish sacrifice without mentioning it being offered at Jerusalem.

More on the Evangelists Not Making Stuff Up

Just a quick note on the reliability of the Gospels.

I’ve written before about the fact that the Evangelists did not feel free to simply make stuff up about Jesus.

One of the signs of that is the fact that, despite the fact that St. Paul’s letters were extremely influential in the early Church and though they generally predate the Gospels, we don’t find the four Evangelists lifting statements from St. Paul and attributing them to Jesus.

Neither, in fact, do we find the Jesus of the Gospels interacting with many of the controversies that characterize the period in which the epistles were written.

Some Examples

Evangelical scholar Michael F. Bird makes the point well when he writes:

[M]any of the debates within the early Christian movement, particularly those stemming from the Pauline circle, are entirely absent from the Gospels: justification by faith, circumcision, speaking in tongues, baptism, the status of Gentiles, criteria of apostleship, and food sacrificed to idols . All these topics are candidates for being written onto the lips of Jesus but are significantly missing from the Gospels.

N. T. Wright notes: “The synoptic tradition shows a steadfast refusal to import ‘dominical’ answers to or comments on those issues into the retelling of the stories about Jesus. This should put us firmly on our guard against ideas that the stories we do find in the synoptic tradition were invented to address current needs in the 40s, 50s, 60s or even later in the first century” [New Testament and the People of God, 422].

Wright’s judgment is confirmed by Acts, Galatians, and 1 Peter, where one observes a distinct reluctance to produce texts attributable to Jesus to resolve recurring problems. It is in a much later esoteric document such as Gospel of Thomas 53 where one finds a statement about circumcision placed on the lips of Jesus [The Gospel of the Lord, 121-122].

Circumcision in the Gospel of Thomas

I particularly like the point about Thomas’s saying concerning circumcision. Bird doesn’t quote it, but here it is:

His disciples said to him [Jesus], “Is circumcision useful or not?”

He said to them, “If it were useful, their father would produce children already circumcised from their mother. Rather, the true circumcision in spirit has become profitable in every respect” [Gospel of Thomas 53].

You see how well this statement fits the controversies that broke out after Jesus’ ministry about whether Gentiles needed to become Jews in order to be Christians and—if they didn’t—what value there was in being Jewish at all.

About Borrowing from St. Paul . . .

In fact, the quotation from Thomas fits that controversy so well that it’s hard not to hear echoes of what St. Paul wrote in Romans:

Circumcision indeed is of value if you obey the law; but if you break the law, your circumcision becomes uncircumcision. . . . For he is not a real Jew who is one outwardly, nor is true circumcision something external and physical. He is a Jew who is one inwardly, and real circumcision is a matter of the heart, spiritual and not literal. His praise is not from men but from God.

Then what advantage has the Jew? Or what is the value of circumcision? Much in every way. To begin with, the Jews are entrusted with the oracles of God [Rom. 2:25, 2:28-3:2].

Notice how both the passage from Thomas and the passage from Romans both expressly involve the question of what value/usefulness circumcision has (if any)? Notice how they both relativize the value of physical circumcision and point instead to “spiritual” circumcision or circumcision “in spirit”?

Which Gospels Are Trustworthy

Of course, Jesus would have agreed with St. Paul’s statement, but the point is that the controversy had not yet arisen during Our Lord’s earthly ministry, which reveals the statement attributed to Jesus in the Gospel of Thomas as an anachronism—something lifted from a later controversy—likely even lifted in substance from St. Paul!—and then placed on the lips of Jesus.

The fact that we don’t find this kind of thing in the four canonical Gospels shows that their authors did not feel free to make stuff up about Jesus—not even to help with the controversies of their own day. It’s thus a testimony to the historical value of the canonical Gospels.

The fact that we do find this kind of thing in non-canonical writings like the Gospel of Thomas also reveals that their authors were not so scrupulous about historical accuracy and thus that their works can’t enjoy the same confidence.

Binding and Loosing

Just a quick note to keep track of something of apologetic interest.

I’m currently continuing my project of summarizing Josephus’s Jewish War, and there is a passage in it in which he refers to “binding and loosing” (a phrase also found in the teachings of Jesus; cf. Matt 16:19, 18:18; and in other Jewish writings).

Josephus records:

(110) And now the Pharisees joined themselves to her [Queen Salome Alexandra of Jerusalem], to assist her in the government.

These are a certain sect of the Jews that appear more religious than others, and seem to interpret the laws more accurately.

(111) Now, Alexandra hearkened to them to an extraordinary degree, as being herself a woman of great piety towards God. But these Pharisees artfully insinuated themselves into her favor by little and little, and became themselves the real administrators of the public affairs; they banished and reduced whom they pleased; they bound and loosed at their pleasure; and, to say all at once, they had the enjoyment of the royal authority, whilst the expenses and the difficulties of it belonged to Alexandra.

(112) She was a sagacious woman in the management of great affairs, and intent always upon gathering soldiers together; so that she increased the army the one half, and procured a great body of foreign troops, till her own nation became not only very powerful at home, but terrible also to foreign potentates, while she governed other people, and the Pharisees governed her [Jewish War 1:5:2].

Here “binding and loosing” appears to refer to the exercise of government, or of the making of authoritative rules of conduct for the community. William Whiston inserts “[men]” after “they bound and loosed,” suggesting an individual application of this authority (i.e., forgiving and absolving individuals), though this is not suggested by the text itself. It is also not excluded by the text.

What did Jesus mean when he said not to judge others? (and more!)

In this episode of Catholic Answers Live (12/23/14), Jimmy answers the following questions:

What did Jesus mean when he said not to judge others?
Can divorced and civilly remarried people receive Communion?
Is it true that “Once a deacon, always a deacon”?
How to argue for the intercession of the saints?
What does “the fear of the Lord” mean?
Why are Catholic obliged to believe what the Church teaches?
How to help a neo-pagan son?
Can deacons a dispensation to get married?
If Jesus is omnipresent, why is his presence in the Eucharist important?
Was Jesus in his incarnation created?

Use the player at the bottom of the post or CLICK HERE TO LISTEN.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Call No Man Teacher?

A reader writes:

Have you responded to 1 John 2:26-27, and Matthew 23 concerning teachers?

The passages in question read:

I write this to you about those who would deceive you; but the anointing which you received from him abides in you, and you have no need that any one should teach you; as his anointing teaches you about everything, and is true, and is no lie, just as it has taught you, abide in him [1 John 2:26-27].

But you are not to be called rabbi [Aramaic, “teacher”], for you have one teacher, and you are all brethren [Matt. 23:8].

From these passages, it could look like it isn’t God’s plan to have teachers in his Church. But consider these passages:

And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles, then healers, helpers, administrators, speakers in various kinds of tongues [1 Cor. 12:28].

And his gifts were that some should be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers [Eph. 4:11].

To find a proper solution to this question, all of the relevant biblical material needs to be borne in mind.

Since there are unmistakable passages referring to teachers in God’s Church as being part of God’s will (e.g., 1 Cor. 12:28, Eph. 4:11), since Christ himself appointed the apostles as teachers, and since the author of 1 John was–even as he was writing–teaching (!), we must recognize passages like 1 John 2 and Matt. 23 as involving an element of hyperbole.

While it is God’s will to have teachers in his Church, their role is relativized. They are not authorities in and of themselves but rather servants of God. This relativization of their role is likely part of what is being expressed by the hyperbole found in the passages you mention.

I hope this helps!

Christmas, Xmas, and Yuletide: 5 things to know and share

A reader writes:

Jimmy could you please tell us about the origin of the word “Christmas? What did the first Christians call what we today know as Christmas?

Is writing X’mas okay? As in today’s language X means “nothing.” I know that X is the 22nd letter of Greek alphabet known as chi. This chi is the first part of the word chirios or expanded to Christos, which means to anoint.

Thus we say that Christos & Messiah are the same. We accept Christos, why not Messiah? Just because St Paul called Jesus Christ?

Also Yuletide? Since Yule is a pagan rather a Gentile term for winter solstice in the northern regions, and a period dedicated to Saturnalia, how come we Christians have adopted this word? What are its implications?

Happy to oblige! Let’s take the questions one by one . . .

1) What is the origin of the word “Christmas”?

The word “Christmas” comes from the Old English phrase Christes maesse (“Christ’s Mass”)—that is the Mass celebrated in honor of Christ’s birth.

From this original reference to a particular Mass celebrated in the Church’s liturgical year, the term came to apply both to the day on which the Mass was celebrated and to the liturgical season associated with it (i.e., the Christmas season, aka Christmastide).

The term Christes maesse began to be written in English as one word in the mid-1300s.

SOURCE.

Note that this only applies to English and languages that English has influenced. Other terms are used for this day (and season) in other languages.

For example, in Spanish, “Christmas” is Navidad, in Italian it is Natale, and in French it is Noël. These terms are derived from the Latin root nativitas, from which we also get the word “Nativity” (i.e., birth).

HERE’S HOW TO SAY “MERRY CHRISTMAS” IN DIFFERENT LANGUAGES.

2) What did the first Christians call what we today know as Christmas?

The first Christians do not appear to have had a word for this day, because the first Christians do not appear to have celebrated this day. It took some time for the practice of celebrating Christmas to emerge.

Benedict XVI explained:

To understand better the meaning of the Lord’s Birth I would like to make a brief allusion to the historical origins of this Solemnity. In fact, at the outset the Liturgical Year of the Church did not develop primarily from Christ’s Birth but rather from faith in his Resurrection. Thus Christianity’s most ancient Feast is not Christmas but Easter; the Christian faith is founded on Christ’s Resurrection, which is at the root of the proclamation of the Gospel and gave birth to the Church. Therefore being Christian means living in a Paschal manner, letting ourselves be involved in the dynamism that originated in Baptism and leads to dying to sin in order to live with God (cf. Rom 6: 4).

Hippolytus of Rome, in his commentary on the Book of the Prophet Daniel, written in about a.d. 204, was the first person to say clearly that Jesus was born on 25 December. . . .

For Christianity the Feast of Christmas acquired its definitive form in the fourth century [General Audience, Dec. 23, 2009].

3) Is writing “Xmas” okay?

Yes, it is “okay” to write “Xmas.” It’s just an abbreviation, and there is nothing sinful about abbreviating a word, even one containing the term “Christ.”

In fact, the earliest Christians did frequently abbreviate sacred terms. Scholars studying early Christian manuscripts are familiar with a phenomenon known as the nomina sacra (“sacred names”; singular = nomen sacrum) in which terms like “God,” “Jesus,” “Lord,” and “Christ” were regularly abbreviated precisely because they were sacred.

This happens in our earliest manuscripts of the New Testament documents. Thus, “God” (Greek, theos) was abbreviated with a theta and a sigma (its first and last letters in Greek), “Jesus” (Iesous) was abbreviated iota-sigma, “Lord” (Kurios) was abbreviated kappa-sigma, and “Christ” (Christos) was abbreviated chi-sigma.

The appearance of the nomina sacra is one of the ways that we date when a Christian manuscript was written, because this practice characterized the early centuries.

Similar abbreviations have appeared later, though. Concerning “Xmas,” the Online Etymology Dictionary says:

Xmas (n.)

“Christmas,” 1551, X’temmas, wherein the X is an abbreviation for Christ in Christmas, English letter X being identical in form (but not sound signification) to Greek chi, the first letter of Greek Christos “Christ” (see Christ). The earlier way to abbreviate the word in English was Xp- or Xr- (corresponding to the “Chr-” in Greek Χριστος), and the form Xres mæsse for “Christmas” appears in the “Anglo-Saxon Chronicle” (c.1100).

At the same time, I understand the squeamishness many folks have about the abbreviation, particularly if they don’t have this background info.

4) Do we accept the term Messiah as well as Christos?

Whether “Christ” or “Messiah” is used depends largely on the language one is speaking. The New Testament is written in Greek, and so it normally uses the term christos, though it does use messias (a Greek version of the Aramaic mshiha) in John 1:41 and 4:25.

The prominence of christos compared to messias in the Greek New Testament is the reason that in much of Christendom the term “Christ” is used more frequently than “Messiah,” though in languages like Aramaic, Arabic, and Hebrew (which are all related to each other) variations on “Messiah” turn up more frequently.

Since the terms mean the same thing, they are both used, and which is used in a particular case is a matter of custom.

5) What about “Yuletide”?

“Yuletide” is simply a contraction of “Yule” and “tide” (i.e., time), meaning “Yule time” or “the time of Yule.”

When we dig deeper than this, the answer becomes more complex. You will find sources out there that say Yule was a pre-Christian pagan holiday in Scandinavia.

Unfortunately, lots of what gets said about pre-Christian holidays is absolute bunk, and so such claims are not to be simply accepted. They must be tested.

When you do that, the claim that Yule was a pre-Christian holiday starts to appear shaky.

What seems certain is that the term Yule was used to refer to a an extended period of time (e.g., a month or two months), but it is not at all clear that it referred to any particular holiday in pre-Christian times.

British historian of paganism Ronald Hutton states:

In the eleventh century Danish rule over England resulted in the introduction of the colloquial Scandinavian term for Christmas, ‘Yule’, which provided an alternative name for it among the English.

It became popular with them in the next century, and in the thirteenth is first recorded in Scotland, where it had become standard in vernacular speech by the end of the Middle Ages.

In Old Norse it is jol, in Swedish jul, and in Danish juul.

The derivation of the name has baffled linguists; it is possibly related to the Gothic heul or Anglo-Saxon hweal, signifying a wheel, or to the root-word which yielded the English expression ‘jolly’.

Nothing certain, however, is known, and there is equal doubt over whether it was originally attached to a midwinter festival which preceded the Christian one (Stations of the Sun: A History of the Ritual Year in Britain, p. 6).

Regardless of the origin of the word, it’s just a word. What matters for what a word means is how it is presently used, not where it came from. (Thus “nice” means nice, it doesn’t mean ignorant, even though it came from the Latin word nescius, which means not knowing).

Sounds do not carry “evil vibrations” from how they may or may not have been used before.

Today, in English, Yule refers to Christmas, and Yuletide refers to Christmas time.

That’s what counts for speakers of modern English.

Also, Yule and Christmas (both) have nothing to do with Saturnalia, which was a Roman holiday, not a Norse or Christian one.

MORE HERE.

Did Pope Francis say animals go to heaven?

The news networks are abuzz with stories saying that Pope Francis has said pets go to heaven.

They’ve even “helpfully” noted how this contrasts with the position of his predecessor, Benedict XVI.

But the thing is . . . the whole story is false.

Here are 7 things to know and share . . .

1) What is being claimed?

Among other things:

Pope Francis has declared that all animals go to heaven during his weekly audience in St. Peter’s Square.

The Pope made these remarks after he received two donkeys as early Christmas presents. During his discussion, Pope Francis quoted the apostle Paul as he comforted a child who was mourning the death of his dog.

Francis quoted Paul’s remarks as, “One day we will see our animals again in eternity of Christ. Paradise is open to all God’s creatures.” [Source.]

Also:

In his weekly audience in St Peter’s Francis quoted the apostle Paul who comforted a child who was crying after his dog died.

“One day we will see our animals again in eternity of Christ’, Francis quoted Paul as saying. The Pope added: “Paradise is open to all God’s creatures.” [Source.]

Right there we have multiple reasons to be suspicious of the story.

2) Why do we have reason to be suspicious?

First, because the common theological opinion for centuries has been that the souls of animals do not survive death.

Second, because this is just the kind of sensationalistic story that the media loves to get wrong.

Third because we have the same words being attributed to two different events: The Wednesday audience at which the remarks were allegedly made occurred on November 26, but the donkey-giving event occurred later.

Fourth, because the Apostle Paul never wrote anything comforting a child who was morning the death of his dog.

Anybody who has read his epistles knows this.

In fact, just do an online search of St. Paul’s epistles, and you’ll see what I mean.

There is only a single passage (Philippians 3:2) where St. Paul refers to dogs, and there he isn’t comforting a boy. He’s using the term as a way of referring to people who do bad stuff.

Fifth, St. Paul certainly never wrote that “One day we will see our animals again in eternity of Christ. Paradise is open to all God’s creatures.”

That’s just not in the New Testament. Anywhere.

3) Do the reasons for suspicion deepen if you look further into the story?

You bet. While many secular news agencies are carrying this story, you know who isn’t?

The Vatican’s own news agencies. You can do searches on News.va for terms like animals or dog and you won’t find any articles about Pope Francis saying that animals go to heaven.

You might even find a story denying this if they get around to posting a denial for the benefit of the world press.

You can also read the entire text of the Wednesday audience where Pope Francis allegedly made the remarks. He doesn’t say anything like what is attributed to him.

And, if that’s not enough, you can watch the video of the entire papal audience, including the stuff before and after it, like where he’s riding around St. Peter’s Square in the popemobile, and you can see for yourself that at no point does Francis make such remarks—nor is a crying child ever brought to him for words of comfort.

4) What did Francis actually say?

Pope Francis’s audience was devoted to the subject of creation and the new heaven and earth. What he said was:

At the same time, Sacred Scripture teaches us that the fulfillment of this marvelous plan cannot but involve everything that surrounds us and came from the heart and mind of God.

The Apostle Paul says it explicitly, when he says that “Creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the glorious liberty of the children of God” (Rom 8:21).

Other texts utilize the image of a “new heaven” and a “new earth” (cf. 2 Pet 3:13; Rev 21:1), in the sense that the whole universe will be renewed and will be freed once and for all from every trace of evil and from death itself.

What lies ahead is the fulfillment of a transformation that in reality is already happening, beginning with the death and resurrection of Christ.

Hence, it is the new creation; it is not, therefore, the annihilation of the cosmos and of everything around us, but the bringing of all things into the fullness of being, of truth and of beauty.

This is the design that God, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, willed from eternity to realize and is realizing.

5) Where did the stuff about animals going to heaven come from?

That was an interpretation that put upon Francis’s remarks by the Italian newspaper Corriere della Sera, which then got garbled in translation and picked up by the international news media.

The New York Times, after writing a gushy, slanted, and inaccurate story on the topic, subsequently issued this correction:

Correction: December 12, 2014

An earlier version of this article misstated the circumstances of Pope Francis’ remarks.

He made them in a general audience at the Vatican, not in consoling a distraught boy whose dog had died.

The article also misstated what Francis is known to have said.

According to Vatican Radio, Francis said: “The Holy Scripture teaches us that the fulfillment of this wonderful design also affects everything around us,” which was interpreted to mean he believes animals go to heaven.

Francis is not known to have said: “One day, we will see our animals again in the eternity of Christ. Paradise is open to all of God’s creatures.”

(Those remarks were once made by Pope Paul VI to a distraught child, and were cited in a Corriere della Sera article that concluded Francis believes animals go to heaven.)

Got that?

Francis didn’t say anything to a grieving boy. Neither did the apostle Paul. It was (allegedly) Pope Paul VI.

Francis didn’t say that animals go to heaven. Corriere della Sera leapt to unjustifiable conclusions because Pope Francis said that God has a plan to renovate the world.

The Immaculate Conception: 8 things to know and share . . .

December 8th is the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception.

It celebrates an important point of Catholic teaching, and in most years it is a holy day of obligation.

Here are 8 things you need to know about the teaching and the way we celebrate it.

1. Who does the Immaculate Conception refer to?

There’s a popular idea that it refers to Jesus’ conception by the Virgin Mary.

It doesn’t.

Instead, it refers to the special way in which the Virgin Mary herself was conceived.

This conception was not virginal. (That is, she had a human father as well as a human mother.) But it was special and unique in another way. . . .

2. What is the Immaculate Conception?

The Catechism of the Catholic Church explains it this way:

490 To become the mother of the Saviour, Mary “was enriched by God with gifts appropriate to such a role.” The angel Gabriel at the moment of the annunciation salutes her as “full of grace”. In fact, in order for Mary to be able to give the free assent of her faith to the announcement of her vocation, it was necessary that she be wholly borne by God’s grace.

491 Through the centuries the Church has become ever more aware that Mary, “full of grace” through God, was redeemed from the moment of her conception. That is what the dogma of the Immaculate Conception confesses, as Pope Pius IX proclaimed in 1854:

The most Blessed Virgin Mary was, from the first moment of her conception, by a singular grace and privilege of almighty God and by virtue of the merits of Jesus Christ, Saviour of the human race, preserved immune from all stain of original sin.

3. Does this mean Mary never sinned?

Yes. Because of the way redemption was applied to Mary at the moment of her conception, she not only was protected from contracting original sin but also personal sin. The Catechism explains:

493 The Fathers of the Eastern tradition call the Mother of God “the All-Holy” (Panagia), and celebrate her as “free from any stain of sin, as though fashioned by the Holy Spirit and formed as a new creature”. By the grace of God Mary remained free of every personal sin her whole life long. “Let it be done to me according to your word. . .”

4. Does this mean Mary didn’t need Jesus to die on the Cross for her?

No. What we’ve already quoted states that Mary was immaculately conceived as part of her being “full of grace” and thus “redeemed from the moment of her conception” by “a singular grace and privilege of almighty God and by virtue of the merits of Jesus Christ, Saviour of the human race.”

The Catechism goes on to state:

492 The “splendour of an entirely unique holiness” by which Mary is “enriched from the first instant of her conception” comes wholly from Christ: she is “redeemed, in a more exalted fashion, by reason of the merits of her Son”. The Father blessed Mary more than any other created person “in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places” and chose her “in Christ before the foundation of the world, to be holy and blameless before him in love”.

508 From among the descendants of Eve, God chose the Virgin Mary to be the mother of his Son. “Full of grace”, Mary is “the most excellent fruit of redemption” (SC 103): from the first instant of her conception, she was totally preserved from the stain of original sin and she remained pure from all personal sin throughout her life.

5. How does this make Mary a parallel of Eve?

Adam and Eve were both created immaculate–without original sin or its stain. They fell from grace, and through them mankind was bound to sin.

Christ and Mary were also conceived immaculate. They remained faithful, and through them mankind was redeemed from sin.

Christ is thus the New Adam, and Mary the New Eve.

The Catechism notes:

494 . . . As St. Irenaeus says, “Being obedient she became the cause of salvation for herself and for the whole human race.” Hence not a few of the early Fathers gladly assert. . .: “The knot of Eve’s disobedience was untied by Mary’s obedience: what the virgin Eve bound through her disbelief, Mary loosened by her faith.” Comparing her with Eve, they call Mary “the Mother of the living” and frequently claim: “Death through Eve, life through Mary.”

6. How does this make Mary an icon of our own destiny?

Those who die in God’s friendship and thus go to heaven will be freed from all sin and stain of sin. We will thus all be rendered “immaculate” (Latin, immaculatus = “stainless”) if we remain faithful to God.

Even in this life, God purifies us and trains us in holiness and, if we die in his friendship but imperfectly purified, he will purify us in purgatory and render us immaculate.

By giving Mary this grace from the first moment of her conception, God showed us an image of our own destiny. He shows us that this is possible for humans by his grace.

John Paul II noted:

In contemplating this mystery in a Marian perspective, we can say that “Mary, at the side of her Son, is the most perfect image of freedom and of the liberation of humanity and of the universe. It is to her as Mother and Model that the Church must look in order to understand in its completeness the meaning of her own mission” (Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Libertatis conscientia, 22 March, 1986, n. 97; cf. Redemptoris Mater, n. 37).

Let us fix our gaze, then, on Mary, the icon of the pilgrim Church in the wilderness of history but on her way to the glorious destination of the heavenly Jerusalem, where she [the Church] will shine as the Bride of the Lamb, Christ the Lord [General Audience, March 14, 2001].

7. Was it necessary for God to make Mary immaculate at her conception so that she could be Jesus’ mother?

No. The Church only speaks of the Immaculate Conception as something that was “fitting,” something that made Mary a “fit habitation” (i.e., suitable dwelling) for the Son of God, not something that was necessary. Thus in preparing to define the dogma, Pope Pius IX stated:

And hence they [the Church Fathers] affirmed that the Blessed Virgin was, through grace, entirely free from every stain of sin, and from all corruption of body, soul and mind; that she was always united with God and joined to him by an eternal covenant; that she was never in darkness but always in light; and that, therefore, she was entirely a fit habitation for Christ, not because of the state of her body, but because of her original grace. . . .

For it was certainly not fitting that this vessel of election should be wounded by the common injuries, since she, differing so much from the others, had only nature in common with them, not sin. In fact, it was quite fitting that, as the Only-Begotten has a Father in heaven, whom the Seraphim extol as thrice holy, so he should have a Mother on earth who would never be without the splendor of holiness [Ineffabilis Deus].

8. How do we celebrate the Immaculate Conception today?

In the Latin rite of the Catholic Church, December 8th is the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, and it is a holy day of obligation.

In the United States, the obligation to attend Mass exists even though it immediately follows a Sunday this year.

My jaw dropped when I read the latest from Benedict XVI . . .

Since Benedict XVI resigned from the papacy and began his retirement in seclusion, he has said nothing publicly.

There’s a very good reason for that, and that’s why the most recent thing he’s written is so amazing.

He’s just publicly weighed in on Cardinal Kasper’s proposal to give Holy Communion to divorced and civilly remarried Catholics.

Here’s the story . . .

1) Why is Benedict XVI so silent these days?

To give his successor a free hand. If a pope emeritus continued to speak out and play a substantial role as a public figure, it could cause all kinds of problems for his successor.

If the two were perceived as being in opposition to each other, it could be extremely traumatic for the Church. Hypothetically, it could even create a schism.

That’s why, when St. Celestine V resigned, his successor kept him imprisoned in a castle until he died.

By choosing to live in a monastery at the Vatican and staying out of the public eye, Benedict is deliberately staying out of Francis’s way.

He’s also setting a precedent for future popes emeritus.

2) What has Benedict said since retirement?

Very little. We know that he has been writing letters. In one letter, he took an atheist mathematician to the woodshed, and the mathematician later published the letter.

He also wrote a speech that was read at a Roman university by his aide, Archbishop Georg Ganswein.

But, in general, he has written very little that has come to public light.

And none of what he has written has dealt with controversial issues in the Church.

Until now.

3) What does Benedict think of “the Kasper proposal”

Over the last year, the Church has been wracked by a revival of Cardinal Walter Kasper’s proposal to give Holy Communion to divorced and civilly remarried Catholics in some circumstances.

Cardinals have been publicly debating each other in the press.

We don’t need to rehash the whole, sad history of that here.

As we’ve watched that situation play out, I’ve repeatedly wondered what Benedict must be thinking—and doing.

Since Pope Francis allowed public discussion of this subject to continue, and since it’s a source of controversy in the Church, you wouldn’t expect him to speak out publicly on the subject.

That would be precisely the kind of interference in his successor’s affairs that he set out to avoid by going into seclusion.

But this issue is so important, with such high stakes, that it’s also precisely the kind of situation that would test that resolve.

I thought, perhaps, he would play a background role—giving advice to Pope Francis off the record at an opportune moment. We know that kind of thing happens.

But he’s now done much more than that.

He’s told us what he thinks.

And it happened through an unusual chain of events that seems providentially structured.

4) What happened?

Back in 1972, when he was still a theology professor, Joseph Ratzinger wrote an essay on the indissolubility of marriage in which he tentatively floated a variation of the Kasper proposal.

This was one of several ideas that Prof. Ratzinger tried out in the days of theological experimentation after the Council but later abandoned.

Indeed, he became a leader in the opposition to the idea that Holy Communion could be given to the divorced and civilly remarried.

Thus, when Cardinal Kasper and two other German bishops floated the proposal in 1993, Cardinal Ratzinger—as head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith—wrote a paper forcefully rejecting the idea.

You can read it here.

But that 1972 essay was still out there, and when he revived his proposal last year, Cardinal Kasper started quoting it.

I can only imagine that this deeply displeased Benedict.

Nobody likes having his words thrown back in his face—particularly when they are words that one has disowned.

For Cardinal Kasper to publicly cite the 1972 essay in an effort to associate Benedict’s name with and thus promote a position that Benedict has rejected must really come across as twisting the knife.

And yet it would seem that Benedict’s hands were tied by his seclusion.

Only they weren’t.

5) Why not?

Because, for the last few years, there has been an effort underway to re-publish collected editions of all of Benedict’s theological writings. (His private ones, that is; not his magisterial documents.)

This effort has been led by Cardinal Gerhard Muller.

And now they’ve published—in German—a volume of Benedict’s writings that includes a revised version of the 1972 essay.

The publication of this series of volumes thus allowed Benedict, from one perspective, to yank the rug out from under Cardinal Kasper’s use of the 1972 essay.

From another perspective, it allowed him to weigh in on the present controversy without having to make a new, public statement that could be perceived as deliberately interfering in the affairs of his successor.

The fact that this set of volumes was underway, and that that particular essay had not yet been republished when Cardinal Kasper started using it for his own purposes, is a providential blessing.

And what Benedict said is extremely encouraging.

6) What did he say?

You can read the full text of the part of the essay that changed—and the 1972 original—at Sandro Magister’s site (ht: Fr.Z).

Of course, the initial variation of the Kasper proposal is gone. There is no trace of it.

Benedict says a number of very interesting things, and the section dealing with divorce, remarriage, and Holy Communion reads as follows:

The 1981 apostolic exhortation “Familiaris Consortio” of John Paul II . . . states: “Together with the Synod, I earnestly call upon pastors and the whole community of the faithful to help the divorced, and with solicitous care to make sure that they do not consider themselves as separated from the Church […] Let the Church pray for them, encourage them and show herself a merciful mother, and thus sustain them in faith and hope.”

This gives pastoral care an important task, which perhaps has not yet been sufficiently incorporated into the Church’s everyday life. Some details are indicated in the exhortation itself. There it is said that these persons, insofar as they are baptized, may participate in the Church’s life, which in fact they must do. The Christian activities that are possible and necessary for them are listed. Perhaps, however, it should be emphasized with greater clarity what the pastors and brethren in the faith can do so that they may truly feel the love of the Church. I think that they should be granted the possibility of participating in ecclesial associations and even of becoming godfathers or godmothers, something that the law does not provide for as of now.

There is another point of view that imposes itself on me. The impossibility of receiving the holy Eucharist is perceived as so painful not last of all because, currently, almost all who participate in the Mass also approach the table of the Lord. In this way the persons affected also appear publicly disqualified as Christians.

I maintain that Saint Paul’s warning about examining oneself and reflecting on the fact that what is at issue is the Body of the Lord should be taken seriously once again: “A person should examine himself, and so eat the bread and drink the cup. For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body, eats and drinks judgment on himself” (1 Cor 11:28 f.). A serious self-examination, which might even lead to forgoing communion, would also help us to feel in a new way the greatness of the gift of the Eucharist and would furthermore represent a form of solidarity with divorced and remarried persons.

I would like to add another practical suggestion. In many countries it has become customary for persons who are not able to receive communion (for example, the members of other confessions) to approach the altar with their hands folded over their chests, making it clear that they are not receiving the sacrament but are asking for a blessing, which is given to them as a sign of the love of Christ and of the Church. This form could certainly be chosen also by persons who are living in a second marriage and therefore are not admitted to the Lord’s table. The fact that this would make possible an intense spiritual communion with the Lord, with his whole Body, with the Church, could be a spiritual experience that would strengthen and help them.

He thus proposes pastoral care for those in this situation and finding ways to further involve them in the life of the Church—including allowing them to serve in church associations and perhaps as godparents.

However, he recommends no change on the question of administering Holy Communion.

Instead, he asks us all to engage in serious self-examination and not to receive Communion unthinkingly.

And he recommends the custom of approaching the minister for a blessing when—as with the divorced and civilly remarried—one is not able to receive Communion.

7) How significant is this?

Benedict’s revision of his 1972 essay is extremely significant.

It makes the general lines of his thought publicly known, and this is bound to be a great encouragement for those who wish to see the Church’s traditional teaching and practice maintained.

It also makes it harder to use Benedict’s name in association with the contrary proposal—as Cardinal Kasper and others have been doing.

It’s a net gain. It’s a gift from God. And, with the former pope weighing in on the issue publicly, it may even be a game-changer.