Category: Other Christians

Waco Siege: The Evidence (David Koresh, Branch Davidians, Texas Apocalypse) – Jimmy Akin’s Mysterious World

Federal agents stormed a religious commune in Waco, Texas, on April 19, 1993 after a months-long siege, leaving dozens dead. Jimmy Akin and Dom Bettinelli are back to consider the allegations of government misconduct, coverup, and conspiracy; examine the evidence; and seek the truth of what happened.

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Genesis and Justification: Misreading a Famous Text

abraham_and_stars_1xThere’s a famous passage in Genesis that often comes up in discussions of salvation. It says Abraham “believed the Lord; and he reckoned it to him as righteousness” (Gen. 15:6).

Protestant pastors frequently preach on this passage, and they frequently get it wrong.

Really wrong.

Here’s why . . .

 

Why It Comes Up

This passage frequently comes up in preaching about salvation because it’s used that way in the New Testament.

Paul quotes it in two places (Rom. 4:3-25, Gal. 3:6), and James quotes it once (Jas. 2:23).

This makes sense, because the Genesis passage connects faith and righteousness.

It was thus logical for the New Testament authors to use the passage in discussions of how we become justified (righteous) through faith in Christ.

It’s also logical for us today to also use the passage—whether we’re Protestant or Catholic.

But we need to use it the right way.

Unfortunately, that’s not always done.

 

The Wrong Way to Use It

Protestant preachers frequently use Genesis 15:6 (and Paul’s quotations of it) to argue for the classical Protestant understanding of justification. That model goes something like this:

  1. We are all sinners and therefore unrighteous before God.
  2. In our sinful state, we can’t become righteous before God by good works.
  3. However, if we place our faith in God, he will forgive our sins and reckon us righteous even though we are not.
  4. This reckoning is something that happens as a once-for-all event in the Christian life known as “justification.”

Points 1 and 2 are true, and points 3 and 4—though flawed—contain elements of truth.

The problem that concerns us here is that Protestant preachers tend to assume Genesis 15:6 maps onto the classical Protestant model in a straightforward way.

At first glance, this isn’t unreasonable, for Paul uses the verse to support justification by faith rather than works.

But the matter isn’t as straightforward as people assume.

 

A One-to-One Mapping

If Genesis 15:6 mapped directly onto the classical Protestant model of justification, the following would result:

  1. Abraham was a sinner and therefore unrighteous before God.
  2. In his sinful state, Abraham could not become righteous before God by good works.
  3. But Abraham came to have faith in God in Genesis 15:6, so he forgave Abraham’s sins and reckoned him righteous even though he was not.
  4. This reckoning was a once-for-all event in Abraham’s life, his justification before God.

But when you read Genesis 15, this is not what is happening.

Not. At. All.

 

Read the Context

To understand what’s happening, you need to start by reading the events that led up to it. Those are found in Genesis 14.

Basically, a war started between two groups of kings, one of whom was the king of the wicked city Sodom. During the war, Abraham’s kinsman Lot—who had been living in Sodom—was taken captive.

When Abraham heard about this, he mustered a group of more than three hundred fighting men from his own household and defeated the opposing kings. He thus rescued Lot, the other captives, and their goods.

Afterward, in thanksgiving for his victory in battle, Abraham went to Melchizedek—a priest of God most high—and gave him a tenth of all the spoils.

Then the king of Sodom offered Abraham a reward, telling him, “Give me the persons, but take the goods for yourself” (Gen. 14:21).

Abraham refused this reward, saying that he’d sworn an oath not to take anything from the king of Sodom.

God then comes to Abraham in a vision and says, “Fear not, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great” (Gen. 15:1).

Abraham asks how this will be, for he has no children, and his current heir would be Eliezer of Damascus, a slave born in his household.

God tells him, “That man shall not be your heir; your own son shall be your heir.” Then he takes Abraham outside and has him look at the stars, telling him, “So shall your descendants be” (Gen. 15:4-5).

At this point we read: “And he believed the Lord; and he reckoned it to him as righteousness.”

 

An Initial Question

We should note there is an ambiguity in Genesis 15:6—it says that “he reckoned it to him” as righteousness.

This can be read two ways: (1) God reckoned Abraham righteous or (2) Abraham reckoned God righteous.

The latter has been supported by some interpreters, including Jewish ones, and it makes sense in context: Abraham believed that God would give him a multitude of descendants, and he regarded this this as a sign of God’s righteous goodness.

However, this is not the way the New Testament takes the verse. On all three occasions where it’s quoted, the authors understand God as reckoning Abraham as righteous.

For Christians, that guarantees that this is a proper way of looking at the text (even if it is not necessarily the only way of looking at it, since Scripture operates on more than one level).

 

A Very Different Picture

If we understand God reckoning Abraham righteous, how well does the passage match the classical Protestant view of justification?

Not well at all.

Notice how different the whole approach of the text is. Abraham is not being presented as a sinner who can’t redeem himself by good works but who then comes to have faith in God and who is then forgiven his sins and declared righteous (even though he is not) in a once-for-all, life-changing event.

Quite the opposite is true! Abraham is already a follower of God, someone who already has faith in him, and the context stresses Abraham’s good works and righteousness:

  • He defeated the evil kings.
  • He rescued Lot and the other captives.
  • He went to a priest of God and gives thanks for the victory.
  • He refused any reward from the wicked king of Sodom.
  • And so God himself promised to give Abraham a reward instead.

The fact God is rewarding Abraham for what he has done shows this isn’t a case of a sinner coming to God and repenting so he can obtain forgiveness. It’s God rewarding a follower for faithful service.

That means Abraham isn’t acquiring righteousness here for the first time. He is already righteous, as his actions have shown.

Then Abraham believes the incredible promise that he will have a multitude of descendants, despite his age (cf. Rom. 4:19, Heb. 11:12), and God reckons that act of belief as a new act of righteousness on Abraham’s part.

Some translations bring this aspect out better than others. The New American Bible does a particularly good job. It says that the Lord: “attributed it to him as an act of righteousness.”

Notice, by the way, that Abraham’s act of faith also wasn’t generic in nature. Abraham already believed in and trusted God in a general way. Here he is believing something very specific: that God will give him a multitude of descendants—a point Paul recognizes when he uses the verse (Rom. 4:17-22).

And notice the righteousness isn’t a counterfactual, purely legal thing: Believing God when he tells you he will do something is a righteous act. Abraham did something actually righteous here.

All of this means that we need to be careful when we apply this verse to discussions of justification.

It is relevant to the subject. Thus Paul makes the point that Abraham wasn’t circumcised at the time this happened (Rom. 4:9-12), so God can view someone as righteous even though he’s not circumcised and thus doesn’t have works of the Jewish Law (Rom. 3:28-30).

But it’s a mistake to map the passage onto the classical Protestant view of justification.

God’s Elect in 1 Clement

divine electionCalvinist theology places a great deal of emphasis on the concept of God’s elect.

The term “elect” is taken from the Greek word eklektos, which means “chosen.”

In Calvinist thought, the elect are those that have been chosen by God to be saved on the last day. The Westminster Confession of Faith states, “God hath appointed the elect unto glory” (3:6).

This sense of the term is not unique to Calvinism. It is also the way the term has traditionally been used in Catholic theology, from which Calvinism inherited it.

However, it is important to be careful about the way terms have come to be used in theology, because language changes over time, and sometimes the meaning a term has in later texts does not correspond to the one it has in earlier ones.

A classic example of this is “heresy.” Originally, the Greek term hairesis just meant “opinion” or “sect” (i.e., the group of people who hold a particular opinion), but today it means something very different.

What about “elect”? Can we count on early texts using it in the sense later theologies have?

 

Multiple Senses of “Elect”

It’s easy to show from the Bible that the term isn’t always used in the later, theological sense. When Jesus is described in John 1:34 as the “Chosen One” (eklektos) of God, it does not mean that God has chosen Jesus to be saved on the final day.

Similarly, there are various passages in the Old Testament where God’s people Israel is described as his “chosen” (Heb., bakhir; LXX, eklektos; e.g., 1 Chr. 16:13, Ps. 105:6, Is. 65:9).

However, if we set these aside and look at early Christian texts that speak of a group of people in God’s new dispensation as “the elect,” what do we find?

A striking example of where the term is not used in the later theological sense is found in 1 Clement, and it is worth looking at the way this document uses it.

 

Introducing 1 Clement

1 Clement is a letter written from Rome to Corinth in the first century. It is often dated to around A.D. 96, but it is more plausibly dated to the first half of A.D. 70.

Although written in a corporate manner (1 Clem. 65:2 describes it as “The letter of the Romans to the Corinthians”), its eloquence reveals that it is the product of a single author (not a committee), as was virtually universal for letters at this time.

The extensive knowledge of the Old Testament that its author clearly possesses suggests that he was of Jewish extraction.

Various early Christian sources identify the author as Clement, a bishop of Rome, and there is no good reason to doubt this identification.

It is significant for our purposes is that this Clement was a disciple of both Peter and Paul.

He may be the same Clement mentioned in Philippians 4:3, and 1 Clement describes Peter and Paul as men of “our generation” (5:1-7). Both Peter and Paul are known to have spent significant amounts of time at Rome, and both were martyred there—likely just a handful of years before the letter was written.

Although 1 Clement is not part of the New Testament, the fact it was written so early and by a disciple of Peter and Paul make its discussion of the elect significant, and it may shed light on the way this term is used in New Testament texts.

So how is the concept is handled in 1 Clement?

 

Election in 1 Clement

The first mention of the elect in 1 Clement occurs in its opening passage. Responding to a crisis that has occurred in the church of Corinth—whereby the leaders of that church had been unjustly expelled from office—the author notes that this “unholy rebellion” is “both foreign and strange to the elect of God” (1:1).

From this we may infer that God’s elect are to be characterized by holiness and due order in church affairs.

Clement next comments on how the Corinthians have made great efforts to seek the salvation of others. He writes:

It was your struggle,  both day and night, on behalf of the whole fellowship of believers,  to save the total number of his elect with mercy and conscientiousness (2:4).

This passage uses the term “elect” in a way distinctly different from its later theological use.

Here “the total number of his [God’s] elect” is identified with “the whole fellowship of believers”—a usage reminiscent of the Old Testament passages that speak of the people of Israel collectively as God’s chosen.

We thus need to be alert to the idea that Clement simply envisions the Christian community in the same way: Christians as a whole are God’s new elect or chosen people.

This understanding is strengthened by the fact he here says that the Corinthians have struggled to ensure that “the total number of his elect” be saved, for it suggests that the total number of the elect might not be saved.

This makes better sense if the elect are conceived of as Christians in general rather than those who will be saved on the last day. The former (people who have professed faith in Jesus Christ and been baptized) are not guaranteed salvation, but those who will be saved on the last day—by definition—are.

The natural sense of the passage is thus that the Corinthians have made great efforts to ensure the salvation of all believers, though this salvation is not guaranteed. (Indeed, Clement later warns those who fomented the Corinthian rebellion that they need to repent or they will be “driven out from his [Christ’s] hope,” literal translation; 57:2).

As we will see, this corporate understanding of the elect is consistent with all of the other references Clement makes to the elect.

Clement notes that, to Peter and Paul “a great multitude of the elect was gathered” (6:1).

He also refers to us approaching the Father, “who made us his own chosen [eklogēs] portion” (29:1)—an idea strongly reminiscent of and undoubtedly based on Israel as God’s portion, which he chose (cf. Deut. 7:6, 14:2, 32:9).

It is important to note that here Clement conceives of Roman and Corinthian Christians as a whole—not just certain individuals among them—as being God’s chosen.

Later he quotes from Psalm 118:25-26, writing:

“With the innocent one you [God] will be innocent and with the elect you will be elect and with the perverse you will deal perversely.” 

Therefore let us cling to the innocent and the righteous, as these are the elect of God (46:3-4).

Here he identifies the elect as “the innocent and the righteous”—terms that can characterize Christians in general.

In the same chapter, he writes:

Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, for it says, “Woe to that person, it would be better for him if he had not been born than to cause one of my elect to sin. It would have been better for him to be tied to a millstone and to sink into the sea than to turn away one of my elect” (Matt. 26:24 with Luke 17:1-2). Your schism has turned many away . . . ! (46:7-9).

Here Clement envisions it being possible for the elect to sin and to “turn away”—something he says the Corinthian schism has accomplished.

Clement later writes that “All of the elect of God were made perfect in love. Apart from love, nothing is pleasing to God” (49:5), indicating that the elect are to be characterized by love.

Quoting Psalm 32:1-2 (or perhaps Rom. 4:7-9), he writes:

“Blessed are those whose trespasses are forgiven and whose sins are covered up; blessed is the one the sin of whom the Lord does not take into account, and in his mouth there is no deceit.” 

This blessing was given to those who have been chosen [eklelegmenous] by God through Jesus Christ our Lord (50:6-7).

Thus the elect have been given the blessing of forgiveness.

Clement identifies the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit as “both the faith and the hope of the elect” (58:2)—meaning they believe and hope in the Persons of the Trinity.

He says that the Roman church will make “earnest prayer and supplication, that the number of those who are counted among his elect throughout the whole world, the Creator of everything may guard unharmed through his beloved child Jesus Christ” (59:2). The elect thus need to be guarded from harm.

In the same chapter, Clement addresses God directly, noting that he “multiplies the nations upon earth and chose [ekleksamenon] from all of them those who love you through Jesus Christ your beloved child” (59:3).

Here the elect are again identified with “those who love you [God] through Jesus Christ”—i.e., the worldwide Christian community.

The above are the only places where 1 Clement refers to “the elect” or uses the corresponding terms for choosing to refer to a group of people in the Christian age.

He also uses these terms to refer to specific chosen individuals, such as Aaron (43:4-5), David (52:2), and Jesus (64:1), as do various passages in the Old Testament. However, these do not pertain to the subject we are examining.

What, then, can be said about 1 Clement’s understanding of the elect?

 

Synthesis

It appears that 1 Clement’s understanding of “the elect” is based on Old Testament passages (e.g., Deut. 7:6, 14:2, 32:9, 1 Chr. 16:13, Ps. 105:6, Is. 65:9) that conceive of Israel as God’s elect or chosen people.

Clement thus refers to members of the Roman and Corinthian churches as a whole (not just certain individuals) as the subject of God’s election, saying that he “made us his own chosen portion” (29:1).

Today, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are “the faith and the hope of the elect” (58:2), and from among the nations, God “chose . . . those who love you through Jesus Christ your beloved child” (59:3). The elect are thus identified with the worldwide Christian community.

Therefore, “the total number of his elect” is identified with “the whole fellowship of believers” (2:4).

In Rome in particular, “a great multitude of the elect was gathered” around Peter and Paul (6:1).

The elect have been given the blessing of forgiveness. (50:6-7), and thus can be described as “the innocent and the righteous” (46:3-4), for “all of the elect of God were made perfect in love” (49:5). Consequently, they are to be characterized by holiness and due order in church affairs (1:1).

However, it is possible for members of the elect to sin and to “turn away”—something the Corinthian schism has caused to happen (46:7-9).

It is not guaranteed that “the total number of his elect” will be saved, and the Corinthians themselves have struggled to ensure their salvation (2:4). The Roman church likewise prays that God “may guard [them] unharmed through his beloved child Jesus Christ” (59:2).

 

Conclusion

We thus see that Clement—a disciple of Peter and Paul—conceives of “the elect” simply as the Christian people as a whole, not specifically as that group which will be saved on the last day.

His use of the term thus differs from the use it has in later Catholic and Calvinist theologies.

Given the fact his understanding of election closely corresponds to the Old Testament’s treatment of Israel as God’s elect people—not to mention his early date and the fact he was a disciple of Peter and Paul—this may well shed light on the way the term is used in the New Testament.

However, that is a subject for another time.

The 95 Theses: 8 Things to Know and Share

Luther as Professor, 1529 (oil on panel) by Cranach, Lucas, the Elder (1472-1553); Schlossmuseum, Weimar, Germany; (add.info.: Luther als Professor; Martin Luther (1483-1546);); German, out of copyright

In 1517, Martin Luther drafted a document known as The 95 Theses, and its publication is used to date the beginning of the Protestant Reformation.

The recent 500th anniversary of that event focused a good bit of attention on the 95 Theses.

Here are 8 things to know and share . . .

 

1) What are The 95 Theses?

The 95 Theses are a set of propositions that Martin Luther proposed for academic debate. As the name indicates, there are 95 of them.

Despite the fact they played a key role in starting the Protestant Reformation, they do not deal with either of the main Protestant distinctives. They do not mention either justification by faith alone or doing theology by Scripture alone.

Instead, they deal principally with indulgences, purgatory, and the pope’s role with respect to the two.

 

2) Did Luther nail them to a church door?

Despite constant statements to the contrary, the answer appears to be no, he didn’t.

 

3) Are they all bad?

No, they’re not. It can come as a surprise to both Protestants and Catholics, but some of them agree with Catholic teaching.

Here are the first three of Luther’s theses, along with parallel statements from the Catechism of the Catholic Church:

Thesis 1: When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, “Repent” (Mt 4:17), he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.

    • CCC 1431: Interior repentance is a radical reorientation of our whole life, a return, a conversion to God with all our heart, an end of sin, a turning away from evil, with repugnance toward the evil actions we have committed.

Thesis 2: This word [i.e., Christ’s call to repent in Mark 4:17] cannot be understood as referring to the sacrament of penance, that is, confession and satisfaction, as administered by the clergy.

    • CCC 1427: Jesus calls to conversion. This call is an essential part of the proclamation of the kingdom: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the gospel” [Mark 4:17]. In the Church’s preaching this call is addressed first to those who do not yet know Christ and his Gospel. Also, Baptism is the principal place for the first and) fundamental conversion.

Thesis 3: Yet it [i.e., the call to repent in Mark 4:17] does not mean solely inner repentance; such inner repentance is worthless unless it produces various outward mortification of the flesh.

    • CCC 1430: Jesus’ call to conversion and penance, like that of the prophets before him, does not aim first at outward works, “sackcloth and ashes,” fasting and mortification, but at the conversion of the heart, interior conversion. Without this, such penances remain sterile and false; however, interior conversion urges expression in visible signs, gestures, and works of penance.

 

4) How did the Church respond to The 95 Theses?

In 1520, Pope Leo X published a bull known as Exsurge Domine (Latin, “Arise, Lord”) in which he rejected 41 propositions taken from the writings of Martin Luther up to that time.

However, only a few of the rejected propositions came from The 95 Theses. Most were based on things Luther said in other writings.

 

5) Which of The 95 Theses did Exsurge Domine reject?

The rejected propositions in Exsurge Domine are formulated from things Luther said, but they are not verbatim quotations.

Three of the rejected propositions—numbers 4, 17, and 38—are drawn from The 95 Theses. In each case, the rejected proposition is based on two of Luther’s original theses.

Here are the rejected propositions along with the corresponding theses:

Proposition 4. To one on the point of death, imperfect charity necessarily brings with it great fear, which in itself alone is enough to produce the punishment of purgatory and impedes entrance into the kingdom.

Thesis 14. Imperfect piety or love on the part of the dying person necessarily brings with it great fear; and the smaller the love, the greater the fear.

Thesis 15. This fear or horror is sufficient in itself, to say nothing of other things, to constitute the penalty of purgatory, since it is very near the horror of despair.

Proposition 17. The treasures of the Church from which the pope gives indulgences are not the merits of Christ and of the saints.

Thesis 56. The treasures of the church, out of which the pope distributes indulgences, are not sufficiently discussed or known among the people of Christ.

Thesis 58. Nor are they the merits of Christ and the saints, for, even without the pope, the latter always work grace for the inner man, and the cross, death, and hell for the outer man.

Proposition 38. The souls in purgatory are not sure of their salvation, at least (not) all; nor is it proved by any arguments or by the Scriptures that they are beyond the state of meriting or of increasing in charity.

Thesis 19. Nor does it seem proved that souls in purgatory, at least not all of them, are certain and assured of their own salvation, even if we ourselves may be entirely certain of it.

Thesis 18. Furthermore, it does not seem proved, either by reason or Scripture, that souls in purgatory are outside the state of merit, that is, unable to grow in love.

Note that Proposition 17 only deals with the substance of Thesis 58. The part of Thesis 56 that it picks up (“The treasures of the Church from which the pope gives indulgences”) is just to supply the antecedent for the pronoun “they” in Thesis 58. The remainder of Thesis 56 is not commented upon.

Therefore, Exsurge Domine rejected things it saw expressed in theses 14, 15, 18, 19, and 58.

 

6) What did Exsurge Domine say about the rejected propositions?

The bull closes with the following censure:

All and each of the above-mentioned articles or errors [i.e., all 41 of them], as set before you, we condemn, disapprove, and entirely reject as respectively heretical or (aut) scandalous or (aut) false or (aut) offensive to pious ears or (vel) seductive of simple minds and (et) in opposition to Catholic truth.

This kind of condemnation is sometimes referred to as an condemnation in globo (Latin, “as a whole”). They are rejected as a batch, but without indicating which censure applies to which proposition.

The condemnation has to be read with care because in Latin, aut indicates an exclusive “or” (i.e., this or that, but not both) while vel indicates an inclusive “or” (i.e., this or that, but possibly both).

Thus Exsurge Domine indicates that some of the 41 rejected propositions are heretical, some are scandalous, some are false, some are offensive to pious ears—but they are not all four.

The use of aut between these censures tells you that a given proposition may fall into one of these four categories.

The only time an inclusive “or” is used is before the fifth and sixth categories: Some propositions may be “seductive of simple minds and (et) in opposition to Catholic truth.” Here vel is used because things that are heretical (etc.) can also be seductive of simple minds (the fifth category) and obviously would be opposed to Catholic truth (the sixth category).

 

7) What does that mean for The 95 Theses?

It means that Exsurge Domine rejected things expressed in Theses 14, 15, 18, 19, and 58, and it thus warned Catholics away from these theses. However, it does not tell us what the problem was in particular cases. It could have been any of the following:

  • The thesis is heretical
  • The thesis is scandalous
  • The thesis is false
  • The thesis is offensive to pious ears
  • The thesis is seductive of simple minds
  • The thesis is opposed to Catholic truth

The difference between these is significant:

  1. If something is heretical then it is both false and contrary to a divinely revealed dogma
  2. If it is scandalous then it can lead people into sin
  3. If it is false then it is not true, though it may not be opposed to a dogma
  4. If it is offensive to pious ears then it is badly and offensively phrased
  5. If it is seductive of simple minds then it can mislead ordinary people
  6. If it is opposed to Catholic truth then it could be opposed in one of the five ways named above.

It is important to note that if the problem is (1) or (3) then the Thesis is necessarily false.

However, if the problem is (2), (4), or (5) then the Thesis is not necessarily false—it could be technically true but phrased offensively, phrased in a misleading way, or phrased in a way that could lead people to sin.

Because Exsurge Domine doesn’t assign particular censures to particular propositions, it doesn’t tell us what the status of the theses in question are. It warns us away from them but leaves it up to theologians to classify the particular problem with a thesis.

 

8) Does the fact that Exsurge Domine only rejects things said in five of the theses mean that the other 90 are okay?

No. This does not give the rest of The 95 Theses a clean bill of health. They can also be problematic, they just weren’t among those dealt with in Exsurge Domine.

It would be interesting to go through The 95 Theses and analyze of the degree to which each of them fits or doesn’t fit with Catholic thought, but that would be a lengthy effort that would go far beyond what can be accomplished in a blog post.

Meet Jack Chick

jackchick2_1Anti-Catholic comic book writer/artist Jack Chick passed away on Sunday, October 23, 2016.

Eternal rest grant to him, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine upon him.

As far as I know, I’m the only Catholic apologist ever to meet him.

Below is an account of that meeting, originally published in the March, 2004 issue of This Rock (now Catholic Answers Magazine).

—

For decades the cartoon tracts of Jack T. Chick have fascinated and horrified. Their pages contain the most extreme, paranoid conspiracy theories imaginable. Among other things, Chick publications will tell you that:

  • the Catholic Church keeps “the name of every Protestant church member in the world” in a “big computer” in the Vatican for use in future persecutions (see his tract My Name . . . In the Vatican? );
  • through the Jesuits, the Vatican runs an extensive conspiracy that includes the Illuminati, the Council on Foreign Relations, international bankers, the Mafia, the Club of Rome, the Masons, and the New Age movement, among others (Four Horsemen);
  • the Catholic conspiracy also includes creating venomously anti-Catholic movements such as Communism, the Ku Klux Klan, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormonism, and Islam (The Big Betrayal, The Godfathers: Alberto Part Three, The Force: Alberto Part Four, The Prophet: Alberto Part Six).

Chick’s material is weirdly compelling. It is amateurish, lurid, ham-fisted, and viciously hateful at times. But it is intense, and something about that intensity makes people want to read it. His tracts generate a kind of bizarre fascination. Since he first began publishing them, Chick has distributed over half a billion, making him the most published comic book author in the world.

Yet little is known of him. The seventy-nine-year-old Chick is a recluse. His office does not give tours, he never allows his photo to be taken, and he never, ever gives interviews. Little is known about him beyond what is revealed in the biography on his web site, www.chick.com.

Recently Chick has ventured out of the world of comic book publishing to produce a feature-length movie entitled The Light of the World. I received an unexpected invitation to the premier of the movie. Writing movie reviews is a hobby of mine, and the camp value alone of a Chick film would make it worth reviewing, so I made the trek to the premier—and got more than I imagined I would.

The Light of the World premiered in Ontario, California, where Chick Publications is based. The site was an old auditorium that would have been dazzling in the 1940s and that still boasted an impressive main theater. As I approached it an hour before the screening was scheduled to begin, a small group of people, including a number of elderly men, was out front.

Could one of these men be Jack Chick? I wondered, then answered my own question: probably not. No doubt he’d seen the completed film, and with his reclusive tendencies he wasn’t likely to show up.

Still, I kept an eye out, particularly for an elderly man with a young Asian woman. (After the death of his wife a few years ago, Chick married an Asian woman much younger than himself.)

In the foyer of the auditorium, representatives of Chick Publications had tables set up where copies of the film were on sale on VHS and DVD. One table was cash only, one check only, and one credit card only. Having a copy of the film would let me get exact quotes for a critique of the film, but I didn’t really want to give my credit card or checking account number to a bunch of conspiracy theorists. I approached the cash only table.

Once I had the copy in hand, I began to contemplate the fact that I had just driven two hours to get to the theater, the screening wouldn’t even begin for another hour, and it would be almost midnight before I got back home to San Diego. The thought of driving back and watching the DVD in the comfort of my own living room was attractive, and I was on the verge of heading home when I decided to take one more look around to see if I could spot Chick.

I was sitting in the back row, so I had a good view of the theater. Nobody looked like an obvious candidate to be Chick. The folks in the front row were too young. I couldn’t see an elderly man with Asian wife. There was an elderly guy sitting alone on the far side of my row, talking with a few people in the aisle. I heard one of them say, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

I took a closer look at him. He had white hair, glasses, and was wearing a white dress shirt and dark slacks. He had a fancy gold wristwatch (a Rolex?)—the kind that you could afford if you’d sold half a billion tracts.

If it were Chick, what would I say to him? The apologist in me would have loved to debate him theologically. Part of me would want to ask him futile questions like “You don’t really believe all that stuff you publish, do you?” But I decided that, if it was Chick, the most charitable thing I could do was simply be nice to him and chat.

Moving a few seats closer to him, I heard him tell the people, “We got started about forty years ago . . .” Doing some quick math in my head, I realized that was when Chick Publications began.

I moved to the seat next to him (well, technically, next to his jacket, which was draped on th seat next to him), and, when the well-wishers moved on, I said, “Excuse me, sir. Are you Jack Chick?”

“I am,” he replied, smiling warmly. “What’s your name?”

“Jimmy Akin,” I replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

We shook hands, and he asked me, “What do you do?”

“I’m an evangelist.”

His face brightened. “Praise God!” But then his eyes studied me a moment. Wearing a Stetson, cowboy boots, faded blue jeans, and a Texas belt buckle, I didn’t look like the typical suit-and-tie evangelist from Chick’s Fundamentalist world.

“I’ve read a lot of your comic tracts,” I said as he settled back into his seat.

“We have plans for a lot more,” he replied.

“You’re going to be doing a lot after the film?”

“Yes,” he smiled. “That’s in their hands now,” he said, referring to the Light of the World Project, which has hopes to translate the film into a thousand languages. “There were times when I thought we would never be finished with it.”

“I understand you’ve been working on it for ten years.”

“Fifteen,” he corrected. “I think it will help a lot of pastors. It should get a lot of people sold—uh, saved.”

Was that a Freudian slip? Given Chick’s tendency to devote publication after publication to the sensationalist claims of men who were later exposed as religious con men, there has been some question of whether he really believes his own publications. Some have suggested he is simply in it for the money.

Another group of well-wishers came by to greet him, and while they did I fished out a pen and a tract promoting the film that I had been given at the door. When he turned back to me, I asked for his autograph.

He laughed heartily, as if he wasn’t used to giving autographs. I handed him the tract and pen, and he looked around for a hard surface to sign it.

“Here, use this,” I said, handing him my Light of the World DVD.

He signed and handed the articles back to me. His signature matched the version I had seen printed in his publications.

Originally, Chick did all the art for his tracts, but in 1972 he began working with a then unknown artist. Fans noticed the difference immediately. Since the artist never signed his name, and since his style was much more realistic than Chick’s, fans speculated for years who “the good artist” was. In 1980, Chick revealed that the other artist was an African-American named Fred Carter, whom Chick claimed was shy and did not wish to have his name on his work.

“The artist who does the comic books . . .” I began, blanking on the gentleman’s name.

“Fred Carter,” Chick said. “He’s a pastor. I’m really hoping he’s going to be here tonight.”

Cool, I thought. Maybe I could meet him, too. 

“I really like his work,” I said. “He has a wonderful technique.”

“Yes, he does.”

“I practiced for a long time to be a comic book artist. I really like the way he uses Zip-A-Tone,” I said, referring to a technique comic book artists uses to create detailed textures in their work.

Chick agreed.

“Have you ever used any other artists, or has it just been the two of you?”

“No, just the two of us,” he said.

Score! I thought. One more rumor about Chick disconfirmed.

“Are you affiliated with any church?” Chick asked me.

“Catholic,” I replied. Chick’s eyes widened.

“Oh? You have a Catholic background?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I love Catholics,” he assured me.

“Uh-huh,” I said, already familiar with the I-love-Catholics-that’s-why-I-attack-their-faith routine used by countless Fundamentalists.

“Well. A Catholic evangelist!” Chick mused. “Are you a Jesuit?”

It was my turn to laugh. If Jack didn’t believe his comics’ paranoid conspiracy theories about Jesuits, he was acting as though he did.

“No, I’m just a layman. I’m not even a priest. I’m not an anything,” I said, hoping to reassure him that I wasn’t a sinister Vatican agent. Perhaps a brief profession of faith might help. “We have our differences,” I told him, “but we both worship God—and his Son, Jesus.”

Chick made what was probably best read as a pleasant but non-committal acknowledgement.

“I’m sure the Pope will have seen this movie by next week,” he said.

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. I’m sure it’ll be going out on a plane. They have all my stuff at the Vatican.”

“I see.”

Since he’d signed a tract for me on the back of my Light of the World DVD, he might think that my copy was the very one that would be sent to the Pope.

“I’m one of the few who stands up against Rome,” Jack continued. “That all started years ago when I met Alberto. Do you know about Alberto?”

“Yes,” I said.

Alberto Rivera’s conspiracy theories are the subjects of many of Chick’s comics and tracts. Rivera claimed to be an ex-Jesuit sent to infiltrate and destroy Protestant churches for the Vatican. He was later exposed as a fraud by Protestant publications and groups such as Christianity Today, Cornerstone magazine, and the Christian Research Institute. He also was wanted by the law for writing bad checks and credit card theft, among other financial improprieties. Chick’s persistence in publishing Rivera led to his leaving the Christian Booksellers Association. Rivera died in 1997 of colon cancer.

“Alberto was murdered, you know,” Jack informed me.

“Well, I understand that he had cancer, but beyond that I’m not aware of anything,” I replied.

“Oh, yes, he was murdered.” Jack said an ex-member of the Irish Republican Army had told him of two poisons, one of which causes cancer. “And that was what they gave him.”

“I see.”

More well-wishers said hello to Jack. While they chatted I tried to think how I might be able to get a tour of Chick Publications itself. These are seldom granted, and I knew my chances were next to nil, but I had to ask. When Chick turned back to me I said, “I’m sorry, but I have to ask: Do y’all ever give tours of your place? I’d love to see where you work.”

“No, I’m afraid not,” he said.

I paused for a minute trying to think if there was a good way to ask for an exception.

“Sorry,” he smiled, knowing what I was thinking. “We have to draw the line somewhere. I don’t let my picture be taken. I’m on too many hit lists.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Yes, we get death threats every week . . . from the Muslims.”

“Yeah, we get them, too,” I said, thinking of the periodic threats we get at Catholic Answers from various groups, though not Muslims in particular.

“Really?” he said. “I wouldn’t have thought you would.” This would be a natural assumption for Chick if he believes his own propaganda about the Catholic Church starting and then later manipulating Islam. “Do you still draw a lot?”

“No, not anymore. These days I’m mostly just a writer.”

This seemed to tickle Chick’s fancy.

“Really?” he chuckled at an unstated irony, perhaps thinking of his own evolution from being a writer and illustrator to being principally a writer. “Where do you work?” he asked.

“In San Diego.” I realized immediately this probably wasn’t what he was asking. “At Catholic Answers,” I said.

Jack laughed uproariously.

“You know of us?” I asked.

” O-o-o-h, yes,” he said mirthfully.

Over the years Catholic Answers has conducted a number of campaigns to educate people about the paranoid anti-Catholicism in Chick’s tracts. We have sent out hundreds of thousands of pieces of educational material. No doubt some made their way to Chick’s desk. I thought of telling him that I am the author of the latest special report critiquing his work, but decided it might spoil the moment.

More well-wishers came by, and Chick informed me that his wife would soon arrive and that she would be sitting in the chair between us, where his jacket rested. I was very interested to see what she looked like. By this point, I was considering staying for the movie. Being able to say that I watched the world premier of Jack Chick’s movie sitting next to him and his wife would make it worth staying.

“I figured I’d be approached tonight,” Chick confided.

“Really? I didn’t know you were going to be here,” I said, unable to think of a way of convincing him that I wasn’t a secret agent sent to “approach” him for some evil purpose.

It was occurring to me that, despite his friendliness, Chick might well be uncomfortable with my presence—especially if he really were the paranoid conspiracy nut he appears to be. He probably was not looking forward to watching the film with a presumed Jesuit agent sitting by his side. Things were quite amicable between us, but it came as little surprise when a final group of people showed up in the aisle and Chick asked politely if I could move so that they could take the seats next to him. One in the group was his wife. Not as young as I had supposed from press accounts, but quite pretty.

“Of course,” I said as graciously as I could, and we stood up to part.

“We’re in the war,” Chick said. “I’m sure we’ll be hearing from you in the future.”

“I’m sure,” I said, nodding and smiling warmly. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, sir,” I said, extending my hand again. Jack shook it and smiled, and that was the end of our encounter.

On the way out I saw a smartly dressed African-American man walking up the far aisle, and I suspected that he might be Fred Carter. As I approached to find out, a thin, poorly groomed man threw his arms around him and cried, “Fred! I’m so happy to see you!”

When the thin man released him, I walked up and said, “Excuse me, sir. Are you Fred Carter?”

He acknowledged that he was, and I shook his hand, saying “I’m pleased to meet you. I really like your artwork. You have an excellent technique.”

He expressed his appreciation, but I wasn’t able to strike up a conversation because the thin man suddenly became interested in me, introduced himself, and started asking about a book on St. Paul that I was carrying. Carter departed for the foyer.

As I drove home, I reflected on my meeting with the king of Fundamentalist kitsch. Chick came across as a kind, gentle old man. He was nothing but polite. He smiled. He laughed. Unlike the characters in his comic books, he didn’t say “Haw! Haw!” when he laughed. From meeting him one would never suspect him to be the most infamous broadcaster of hate and paranoia in the Christian comic book world.

Chick noted that “we’re in the war.” The only experiences I could compare meeting him to are strange wartime incidents I’ve read about where soldiers of opposing sides are able to put down their weapons and share a moment of humanity. Like when Yankees and Confederates stopped shooting at each other long enough to trade coffee and tobacco. Or when German and British soldiers climbed out of their World War I foxholes to exchange Christmas greetings.

I wondered what Chick thought of our meeting. Maybe nothing, but maybe his conspiracy-prone mind would cause it to assume larger-than-life proportions. He had read me as a potential Vatican agent making some kind of hostile “approach” to him. Maybe he would think that there was a cancer-causing poison on my palm when we shook hands.

Given Chick’s tendency to sometimes include real people in his comics—even as minor, unnamed characters—he might even record the incident. If you’re ever reading a Chick comic and see a young, bearded Jesuit agent dressed like a cowboy, it’ll probably be me.

I only hope Fred Carter does the art.

New Ebook by Jimmy Akin!

PrintSo I decided to celebrate my recent birthday by making a low-carb pizza and by launching a line of ebooks.

The new ebooks are designed to be read quickly, in just a few minutes, and the first one is already up on Amazon.

It’s called Justification by Faith and Works? What the Catholic Church Really Teaches.

It will prove to be an eye-opener for anyone who repeats the standard claim that Catholics believe in justification “by faith and works.”

As always, I use Scripture and official Church documents–including what Pope Benedict XVI had to say on this subject (his answer may surprise you!).

At just $2.99, the new ebook gives you a quick but thorough look at a hot-button issue in apologetics, grounded in the Church’s official teachings.

Thanks for checking it out! If you like it, I hope you’ll leave a positive review!

Here’s the link to get it . . .

Click here to download Justification by Faith and Works? What the Catholic Church Really Teaches.

Pope Francis on Intercommunion with Lutherans

lutheran-800x500Pope Francis recently answered a Lutheran woman’s question regarding the possibility of her taking Communion with her Catholic husband at Mass.

His remarks, which he made at an ecumenical meeting in a Lutheran church, have raised eyebrows.

You can read them online here. Another translation is here. You can also watch the exchange in Italian here.

 

What the woman asked

This is what the Lutheran woman said:

My name is Anke de Bernardinis and, like many people in our community, I’m married to an Italian, who is a Roman Catholic Christian. We’ve lived happily together for many years, sharing joys and sorrows. And so we greatly regret being divided in faith and not being able to participate in the Lord’s Supper together. What can we do to achieve, finally, communion on this point?

 

What might the pope have said?

Of course, one response would be, “Become Catholic.” But if popes said that routinely when they were in a Lutheran church, they wouldn’t be invited to Lutheran churches and would lose this form of outreach to other Christians.

Intra-Christian unity proceeds slowly. Being too explicit right up front is a little like saying “Marry me!” on the first date.

So you wouldn’t really expect Pope Francis to explicitly propose swimming the Tiber in this particular context.

He could have said, “Study and pray—especially pray for the day when Christian unity is restored and we can have full sharing at the Lord’s table.”

Or he could have said, “It is a profound sadness that, because of the differences that divide us, we cannot presently share the Eucharist. This does not mean that you and your husband cannot share and celebrate the aspects of the Christian faith that we have in common, and you can work to overcome the obstacles that remain.”

There are all kinds of brief responses the pope might have made.

Presumably, he didn’t have to take the question at all. Papal questions are regularly screened to keep the pope from being put in the position of commenting on something he doesn’t want to address.

Since he took the question, Pope Francis apparently wanted to address this issue—he felt he had something useful to say about it.

 

What the pope said

The pope’s response is hard to summarize. His answer was somewhat stream-of-consciousness.

After joking that the question of sharing the Lord’s Supper was hard for him to answer—particularly in front of a theologian like Cardinal Kasper (who, as the former Vatican head of ecumenical affairs, was there)—he reflected on the role of the Lord’s Supper in the Christian life.

He noted that we will all receive it at the eternal banquet in the New Jerusalem, but he had questions about intercommunion here on earth, saying:

To share the Lord’s banquet: is it the goal of the path or is it the viaticum [provisions] for walking together?

 

Goal or assistance?

Here he refers to two views of intercommunion. The first would make it the goal of ecumenical dialogues. In other words, we need to restore full unity in faith, and the crowning result of that will be sharing the Eucharist.

The second view would be that sharing the Eucharist is something Christians of different confessions should do now as a way of fostering growth in Christian unity (walking together).

The pope does not decide between these two views, the first of which is the one the Holy See has consistently maintained. Instead, he says:

I leave that question to the theologians and those who understand.

The fact he speculates on this question in public, in an ecumenical setting, could be viewed as a source of concern.

Even if he thought the question of eucharistic sharing needed to be further explored, is this the right context to be discussing that? It seems to carry several risks. One is that the pope could look like he’s not backing the Catholic position.

Apparently, Pope Francis thought such risks were worth taking.

 

Doctrine and baptism

Pope Francis goes on to say:

It’s true that in a certain sense, to share means there aren’t differences between us, that we have the same doctrine—underscoring that word, a difficult word to understand—but I ask myself: but don’t we have the same baptism?

The first part of this acknowledges the principle supporting the Church’s historic position on intercommunion: that sharing in the Eucharist means holding the same doctrine, so that people who disagree with Church teaching, especially its infallibly defined teaching, should not be receiving the Eucharist at Mass.

Pope Francis acknowledges the legitimacy of this principle, but he appears to ask whether it is the only relevant principle and whether the common baptism that we share could affect the situation.

 

Current intercommunion

It’s surprising the pontiff didn’t take this occasion to refer to something that would make the point that baptism does have an effect on the question of intercommunion.

The Church does permit—and has for some time—intercommunion in limited circumstances, on the basis of our common baptism.

Canon 844 §§2-3 of the Code of Canon Law describes the particular requirements for when baptized non-Catholic Christians can be admitted to the Eucharist, confession, and the anointing of the sick.

More on that below.

 

Further reflections

Pope Francis reflected further on baptism, though it is somewhat difficult to follow his train of thought. The impression is that he was answering off the top of his head, which can result in hard-to-follow answers, at times, for anybody.

Returning to the subject of the Eucharist, he says:

The question: and the [Lord’s] Supper? There are questions that, only if one is sincere with oneself and with the little theological light one has, must be responded to on one’s own. See for yourself.

This is true. The question that springs to mind is the one every Catholic must ask before receiving Communion: Am I in a state where I can receive worthily?

Only the individual knows whether he has fulfilled the requirements, and however much or little theological knowledge he has, he needs to apply it before going to Communion.

That’s not to say that a person can simply “discern” that it’s okay for him to go to Communion. Canon 844, among others (such as canon 915), provides limits on who can receive Communion and when. It is only when such canons do not impede an individual that the question of one’s personal judgment comes into play.

Pope Francis continues:

This is my body. This is my blood. Do it in remembrance of me—this is a viaticum that helps us to journey on.

This echoes his point about the Eucharist being assistance for the journey rather than exclusively a goal. The principle certainly applies to the life of the individual believer—Jesus means to strengthen us through the Eucharist throughout life, not just give us admission to the banquet at the end of time.

Whether the principle applies in the same way to the ecumenical movement is a separate question.

 

An illustration involving a bishop

Pope Francis then tells a story about a bishop “who went a little wrong.”

According to this translation, the bishop was an Episcopalian, and his wife and children were Catholic. However, another translation omits the reference to it being an Episcopalian bishop and, in the commentary, takes it to be a reference to former Catholic bishop Jeronimo Podesta.

The first translation appears to be correct. A check of the Italian original (also here) reveals Pope Francis saying “un vescovo episcopaliano”—“an Episcopalian bishop.”

He says:

He accompanied his wife and children to Mass on Sunday, and then went to worship with his community. It was a step of participation in the Lord’s Supper. Then he went forward, the Lord called him, a just man.

It is unclear what this means. It could mean that the Episcopalian bishop “went forward” to receive Communion at a Catholic Mass. It could mean that he “went forward/onward” in his walk with God and became a Catholic or somehow addressed the fact that he had gone “a little wrong.” The latter is suggested by the second translation, which reads, “Then he went forward, then the Lord called him [to realize] ‘I’m not right.’”

 

Answering a question with a question

I’m not sure what to make of the pope’s story about the Episcopalian bishop who “went a little wrong,” and he doesn’t seem to draw any decisive lesson from it. Instead, he tells the woman:

To your question, I can only respond with a question: what can I do with my husband, because the Lord’s Supper accompanies me on my path?

Or:

I can only respond to your question with a question: what can I do with my husband that the Lord’s Supper might accompany me on my path?

Pope Francis thus invites the woman to explore what she and her husband can do either because the Eucharist accompanies her in some sense or so that it might accompany her.

If the former translation is correct, he might be suggesting she explore how the closeness of Christ in the Eucharist (or perceived closeness, given the Eucharist’s invalidity in Lutheran circles) might better inform her marriage.

If the latter translation is correct, he might be inviting her to consider becoming a Catholic to be able to receive the Eucharist with her husband.

Or he might mean something else entirely. It isn’t clear what he is trying to say.

 

What’s the difference?

Whatever he is inviting the woman to do, Pope Francis considers it a matter that must be sorted out individually. He says:

It’s a problem each must answer, but a pastor friend once told me: “We believe that the Lord is present there, he is present. You all believe that the Lord is present. And so what’s the difference?”

The pastor he refers to is, apparently, a Protestant who believes in the Real Presence.

“So what’s the difference?” could mean, “So what’s the difference between the Catholic position and mine?” Or it could mean, “So why can’t we have intercommunion?”

Pope Francis responds to the question by saying:

Oh, there are explanations, interpretations.

He appears to mean that there are different understandings of the Real Presence, which is true. The Catholic position is not just that Christ is present in the Eucharist but that the bread and wine become his body and blood (transubstantiation).

Not everyone who believes in the Real Presence shares that view. A common Lutheran formulation is that Christ is “in, with, and under” the bread and wine; Orthodox sometimes use the term transubstantiation, but sometimes they understand the Real Presence differently; Anglicans have a range of views; etc.

The pope then says:

Life is bigger than explanations and interpretations. Always refer back to your baptism. “One faith, one baptism, one Lord.” This is what Paul tells us, and then take the consequences from there.

By this, I assume he means that our fundamental unity as Christians (“one Faith, one baptism, one Lord”) is more significant (“life is bigger”) than the divisions that exist among Christians on particular questions, such as the precise way the Real Presence works.

This isn’t to say that the divisions aren’t important or that they don’t genuinely divide us, just that they don’t deprive us of the common status of being Christians.

The way we should proceed is thus to recognize our common identity as Christians, despite our differences, and work to figure things out from there (“take the consequences from there”).

 

Pope Francis’s ultimate answer

Returning to the woman’s original question about intercommunion, Pope Francis concludes by saying:

I wouldn’t ever dare to allow this, because it’s not my competence. One baptism, one Lord, one faith. Talk to the Lord and then go forward. I don’t dare to say anything more.

This is a strong statement. “I wouldn’t ever dare allow” is an emphatic way of saying that he can’t give the woman permission to take intercommunion. In fact, if you watch the video, he uses his vocal inflection to add extra stress to the point that he cannot give permission.

He also cites a reason: It’s not his area of competence. He appears to be using this admission to signal that he’s not refusing to give permission out of ill will. Instead, he recognizes that he’s not an expert in the relevant area and considers it too important an area to make further pronouncements without consultation.

 

A matter for experts

Why might Pope Francis think that consultations with experts would be needed to answer the woman’s question? Why not simply say, “Sorry, but we can’t offer you Communion as a Lutheran”?

Because the situation isn’t that simple. The current Code of Canon Law, promulgated in 1983 by St. John Paul II, allows for Communion to be given to Lutherans in some circumstances.

This woman’s case doesn’t meet the criteria named in the Code, but Pope Francis may be wondering if it would be possible to give Communion in additional circumstances beyond those mentioned in canon 844.

For example, canon 844 §4 states that Communion, confession, and anointing of the sick can be given to Protestants who share the Church’s faith in these sacraments (note that qualifier; it’s an important one) only “if the danger of death is present or if, in the judgment of the diocesan bishop or conference of bishops, some other grave necessity urges it.”

However, according to canon §3, danger of death or other grave necessity is not required to grant these sacraments to Orthodox Christians. They only need to “seek such on their own accord and [be] properly disposed.”

One could ask whether it would be theologically possible to modify the Code so that danger of death or grave necessity isn’t required for Protestants who share the Church’s faith in these sacraments, allowing such Protestants to receive them on terms like those that presently apply to the Orthodox.

That’s a delicate question, and it would require consultation and deliberation among experts.

So it’s understandable why Pope Francis would punt on the question due to it not being within his personal area of expertise.

 

A general answer

He thus gives a general answer referring to the common elements of our Christian identity, saying, “Talk to the Lord and then go forward.”

In this case, “go forward” does not mean “go forward and receive Communion.” He’s just said he can’t give permission for that. “Go forward” means “proceed on the basis you discern after speaking with the Lord,” and that can mean all kinds of things.

It could mean “proceed to become a Catholic” or “proceed to receive the Eucharist at Mass” or anything in between. The Pope isn’t telling her what course of action she should pursue. He’s pointedly not telling her that, and he’s expressly not giving her permission to receive.

He appears to feel this kind of general answer is all that it’s possible for him to offer, given the limitations of his expertise. Thus he says, “I don’t dare to say anything more,” for he would be moving beyond his personal competence.

 

Concluding thoughts

It’s good that Pope Francis considers the subject important enough not to go further and to leave technical matters like what may be possible in the future to be explored by those who are competent in these areas.

It’s also good that he recognizes the limitations of his own expertise, despite the fact he is pope.

Indeed, watching the video shows him being somber and seeming to struggle at points, particularly when he is speaking most directly to the woman’s question.

However, it is not easy to piece together his line of reasoning, and at some points it isn’t clear what he was trying to say.

As someone who answers questions live on a regular basis, I know what it’s like to struggle with an answer. You can have an idea what you want to say and yet have difficulty putting it into words.

That happens to everyone. “Even Homer nods,” as they say.

Because of the cautions Pope Francis makes during the course of his answer, I don’t view it as the earthquake that some took it for.

Is the pope giving permission to Lutheran spouses to take Communion at Mass? No. He expressly says he’s not.

Is this a portent of an imminent shift in Catholic doctrine or sacramental practice? No.

Is it possible that the current rules regarding when Communion can be given to other Christians could one day be tweaked? Yes. It’s imaginable that a pope might one day decide that any baptized Christians who share the Church’s faith respect to Communion, confession, and anointing could receive those sacraments on the same basis that Orthodox Christians can.

Are the pope’s remarks a sign that this—or anything like it—is going to happen any time in the foreseeable future? No.

Could the pope have answered more clearly? Yes. One might argue that, if the pope were going to struggle with the question as much as he did, he would have been better advised not to take it. But these things happen, and there is no reason to see this as a sign of an impending doctrinal or sacramental earthquake.

Did Pope Francis say it doesn’t matter what kind of Christian you are? 9 things to know and share

francis-readingRecently I’ve received several queries about a video message that Pope Francis sent to an ecumenical gathering in Arizona.

A Zenit news story implied that the pope stated that Jesus doesn’t care what kind of Christian you are.

But that’s not what he said at all.

Here are 9 things to know and share . . .

 

1) What were the circumstances of the video?

An ecumenical gathering was held in Phoenix, Arizona last Saturday (May 23), and the organizers—the John 17 Movement—had invited Pope Francis to attend.

He didn’t, but he did send a video message—mostly in Spanish.

You can read the full text of the message (in English) here.

 

2) What did Zenit say about the message?

The Catholic news agency Zenit did a piece reporting on the video message, which you can read here.

The piece was headlined

Pope to US Christian Unity Event: Jesus Knows All Christians Are One, Doesn’t Care What Type

At one point, the text of the story reads:

Francis pointed out that Jesus knows that Christians are disciples of Christ, and that they are one and brothers.

“He doesn’t care if they are Evangelicals, or Orthodox, Lutherans, Catholics or Apostolic…he doesn’t care!” Francis said. “They are Christians.”

UPDATE: Zenit has issued a corrected version of the story here.

 

3) Did Pope Francis actually say that Jesus doesn’t care what kind of Christian a person is?

No. The Zenit story is flatly incorrect.

Both the headline and the passage quoted above mistake the pope as speaking about Jesus when he is actually speaking about the devil—that is, he is saying that the devil doesn’t care what kind of Christian you are.

Here is the relevant passage from the pope’s remarks:

Division is the work of the Father of Lies, the Father of Discord, who does everything possible to keep us divided.

Together today, I here in Rome and you over there, we will ask our Father to send the Spirit of Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and to give us the grace to be one, “so that the world may believe”.

I feel like saying something that may sound controversial, or even heretical, perhaps.

But there is someone who “knows” that, despite our differences, we are one.

It is he who is persecuting us. It is he who is persecuting Christians today, he who is anointing us with (the blood of) martyrdom.

He knows that Christians are disciples of Christ: that they are one, that they are brothers! He doesn’t care if they are Evangelicals, or Orthodox, Lutherans, Catholics or Apostolic…he doesn’t care! They are Christians.

As you can see, Pope Francis establishes a chain of referents for the pronoun “he” (in “He doesn’t care”) that repeatedly identifies the individual in question as the devil.

Jesus is not even mentioned except in the phrases “the Spirit of Jesus” and “disciples of Christ.”

 

4) Would it be a problem if the pope had said that Jesus doesn’t care what kind of Christian you are?

If intended in the absolute sense, yes. That would be a form of the error of indifferentism—the idea that it doesn’t matter what religion you are.

God is a God of truth, and so the truth of one’s religious beliefs matters to him.

 

5) Why does the pope describe his remark as something “that may sound controversial, or even heretical, perhaps”?

Presumably because it’s an unfamiliar thought for many.

The idea that the devil stirs up persecution of Christians without respect to their particular affiliation, precisely because he knows that they are all Christians, is not something that one commonly hears—particularly in an age when many people aren’t even comfortable talking about the devil.

I can imagine any number of modernist theologians taking exception to this thought. That, of itself, could result in it sounding controversial.

 

6) Why did he say it might sound “even heretical, perhaps”?

The most likely explanation is that this is a touch of hyperbole, or exaggeration to make a point.

The pope is speaking informally, and his words have to be understood accordingly.

In Catholic theology, the term “heresy” has a precise, technical meaning: The obstinate post-baptismal doubt or denial of a truth that must be believed with divine faith (i.e., God has revealed it) and with Catholic faith (i.e., because the Church has infallibly defined it as such).

Since he is speaking to an ecumenical group that consists largely or principally of non-Catholics, he cannot expect them to interpret the word “heretical” in the technical, Catholic sense.

This is further confirmed by the fact that there would be no grounds on which to criticize his main proposition–that the devil stirs up persecution against Christians because they are Christians–as heretical in the technical sense. God has not revealed that the devil does not persecute Christians of all stripes because they are Christians, and the Church has not infallibly defined that God has revealed this.

As a result, the pope isn’t using the term “heretical” in its technical sense. He’s speaking informally and hyperbolically.

Properly speaking, his proposal not only isn’t heretical, it doesn’t even sound heretical.

In rhetorical terms, the function of including the statement is to draw a line under what he is about to say, to call attention to it and invite people to think about it rather than passing over it quickly.

 

7) Is there anything problematic about his statement that “despite our differences, we are one”?

No. He acknowledges both that Christians have differences (true) and that, despite these differences, we also are in another sense one (also true).

Elsewhere in his message, he says:

We will search together, we will pray together, for the grace of unity.

The unity that is budding among us is that unity which begins under the seal of the one Baptism we have all received.

It is the unity we are seeking along a common path. It is the spiritual unity of prayer for one another.

The idea that Christian unity is rooted in our common baptism is a commonplace of Catholic theology.

He also acknowledges that, despite being one in a sense he has already alluded to, we are also seeking “the grace of unity” and that this unity is “budding” (meaning: an incomplete reality).

He is thus seeking to acknowledge both the things that unite and divide Christians.

 

8) Doesn’t the devil hate all human beings?

Yes, but he hates Christians in a special way, because we love and serve Christ.

 

9) How does the pope see the growth of Christian unity unfolding?

He says:

This [the “ecumenism of blood,” our common persecution by the devil] must encourage us to do what we are doing today: to pray, to dialogue together, to shorten the distance between us, to strengthen our bonds of brotherhood.

I am convinced it won’t be theologians who bring about unity among us. Theologians help us, the science of the theologians will assist us, but if we hope that theologians will agree with one another, we will reach unity the day after Judgement Day.

The Holy Spirit brings about unity. Theologians are helpful, but most helpful is the goodwill of us all who are on this journey with our hearts open to the Holy Spirit!

The pope thus sees Christians working to grow closer to each other through prayer, dialogue, goodwill, and openness to the Holy Spirit.

He sees theologians as being able to play a helpful role in this, but he does not envision Christian unity being fully restored in this age simply because of Christian theologians getting together to talk.

Instead, Pope Francis is focusing on practical ways that Christians can “strengthen our bonds of brotherhood” and “shorten the distance between us” in the here and now.

Did Pope Francis poke Protestants in the eye?

Did Pope Francis intentionally poke Protestants in the eye?
Did Pope Francis intentionally poke Protestants in the eye?

Did Pope Francis intentionally poke Protestants in the eye?

In a recent column, Presbyterian Bill Tammeus appeared to accuse Pope Francis of “intentionally offering a poke in the eye to people outside your faith tradition.”

He asks if Pope Francis is “saying that I, as a Presbyterian, cannot follow Jesus outside of Catholicism? That’s what he appears to be claiming, and I think it’s a dicey position to highlight so early in his papacy.”

Did Pope Francis “intentionally“ poke Protestants in the eye? Did he say that Presbyterians cannot follow Jesus?

Or is Tammeus misreading the pope?

Here’s the story . . .

 

Getting Started on the Wrong Foot

Tammeus begins:

Ever since the start of the Protestant Reformation nearly 500 years ago, Protestants have been understandably dismissive of the idea that the Roman Catholic church is the only true Christian church.

I hope that Tammeus realizes that this is not what the Catholic Church claims. That’s too simplistic (see below).

And yet the leaders of the Catholic church have made that claim persistently over time in various ways.

Oops. Maybe not. Well, I certainly hope he at least understands that this is not the way the Magisterium articulates the issue.

The [way leaders of the Catholic Church have made that claim] that stirred up the most resentment under Pope John Paul II was contained in Dominus Iesus, issued in August 2000 by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, then headed by Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, later Pope Benedict XVI.

The declaration said churches outside the Catholic church “are not Churches in the proper sense.”

Okay.

Mr. Tammeus: It is my great pleasure to inform you that your concerns are to a substantial degree misplaced.

 

What the Catholic Church Actually Teaches

KEEP READING.

R.I.P.: Pope Shenouda III

I was sad to receive a message on Facebook with a link to a story about the passing of Pope Shenouda III. The inquirer wanted some clarification regarding the use of the term “pope” in this context, and I’ll be happy to provide that. I want first of all to express my condolences to anyone in the Coptic Christian community who may read this.

HERE IS THE STORY ABOUT HIS PASSING AT THE AGE OF EIGHTY EIGHT.

For those who haven’t encountered mention of him before, Pope Shenouda was the head of the Coptic Orthodox Church, which is the main Christian church in Egypt. It is not a Catholic church, but it is very close to the Catholic church in doctrine and outlook. In recent times there have been significant steps toward restoring full Christian unity, and Pope Shenouda was a leader in that effort.

HERE IS HIS WIKIPEDIA BIOGRAPHY.

Although full communion has not yet been achieved, one of the notable steps taken during Shenouda III’s reign as a 1973 joint declaration which he signed with Pope Paul VI.

IT IS ON THE VATICAN’S WEB SITE HERE.

This decree is so significant because in it the leaders of the two churches profess a common faith in the doctrine of Christ, which had previously been a source of division. After the Council of Chalcedon in A.D. 451, the two churches articulated their faith in Christ differently, with Coptic Christians frequently be characterized as “monophysites,” meaning that they understood Christ to have only one nature rather than two distinct but inseparably united divine and human natures. (More on monophysistism here.)

More recent discussions, however, led the two churches to conclude that, although they historically articulated the doctrine of Christ using different language, today they are able to make a common confession, which the document expressed in the following terms:

In accordance with our apostolic traditions transmitted to our Churches and preserved therein, and in conformity with the early three ecumenical councils, we confess one faith in the One Triune God, the divinity of the Only Begotten Son of God, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, the Word of God, the effulgence of His glory and the express image of His substance, who for us was incarnate, assuming for Himself a real body with a rational soul, and who shared with us our humanity but without sin. We confess that our Lord and God and Saviour and King of us all, Jesus Christ, is perfect God with respect to His Divinity, perfect man with respect to His humanity. In Him His divinity is united with His humanity in a real, perfect union without mingling, without commixtion, without confusion, without alteration, without division, without separation. His divinity did not separate from His humanity for an instant, not for the twinkling of an eye. He who is God eternal and invisible became visible in the flesh, and took upon Himself the form of a servant. In Him are preserved all the properties of the divinity and all the properties of the humanity, together in a real, perfect, indivisible and inseparable union.

Now, about the term “pope.” This term is based on the Latin and Greek word for “father,” which is pater. It’s pronounced and spelled a little differently in the two langauges, but that’s the term.

Based on the example of the apostles, who in their writings describe themselves as the spiritual fathers of those in their flocks, who they also describe as their children (St. Paul and St. John do this repeatedly), it has been natural for the term “father” to be applied to Christian leaders, with due reverence for the unique Fatherhood of God.

Today in many parts of the world, priests are often called “Father,” but in early times it was common to use this title for higher religious leaders, which is how the bishop of Rome became called “pope” in the first place.

The title was not unique to him, though, and it was also used for certain other leaders, including the patriarch of Alexandria, which is what Pope Shenouda was.

In this case the term “pope” does not mean “successor of St. Peter.” Alexandria is known as the see of St. Mark, who founded it, and the Coptic pope is regarded as the successor of St. Mark.

The head of the Coptic Orthodox Church thus is not a pope in the same way that the head of the Catholic Church is, and his title does not imply that he is. It’s the same word, but it’s being used in a different way, with a different meaning.

This is why official Catholic documents use the title “pope” for the Coptic patriarch of Alexandria. It isn’t attributing to him the idea that he’s the successor of Peter, the bishop of Rome, or the head of the Church on earth. It’s simply a use of the term “pope” that has been retained from a time before this term became associated exclusively with the bishop of Rome in the popular mind.

Thus the joint declaration between Paul VI and Shenouda III is titled “COMMON DECLARATION OF POPE PAUL VI AND OF THE POPE OF ALEXANDRIA SHENOUDA III,” and it begins by saying:

Paul VI, bishop of Rome and Pope of the Catholic Church, and Shenouda III, Pope of Alexandria and patriarch of the See of St. Mark, give thanks in the Holy Spirit to God that, after the great event of the return of relics of St. Mark to Egypt, relations have further developed between the Churches of Rome and Alexandria so that they have now been able to meet personally together.

While it’s natural for westerners to be a bit startled by the use of this title given their experience of it, they need not be concerned that it is being used in the same sense that they are familiar with. It’s not, and in fact the Holy See itself uses the term this way.

In fact, within a day or two it is certain that the Holy See will issue a communique expressing Pope Benedict’s condolences on the passing of Pope Shenouda.

Ah, I was right. Before hitting “Publish,” I checked the Vatican’s news site and found this statement already online:

Press Office Statement on the death of Pope Shenouda III of Alexandria

The Catholic Church shares in the grief and prayers of Coptic Christians in mourning the loss of their spiritual leader, His Holiness Pope Shenouda III of Alexandria. Pope Benedict XVI was informed of the news and he is united spiritually with prayers of suffrage. We will never forget the meeting of Pope Shenouda in Cairo with Pope John Paul II during his pilgrimage to Mount Sinai during the Great Jubilee. The occasion marked a high moment in dialogue and fellowship witnessing to our common faith in Christ. May the Lord welcome this great shepherd and give him the reward he deserves for his service.

Fr. Federico Lombardi, Director of the Holy See Press Office