The Creed: continued

The Creed tells us that Jesus Christ is "the Only Begotten Son of God, born of the Father before all ages. God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father."

This theologically dense language was forged in the crucible of a controversy that is almost completely alien to the modern mind. The Greco-Roman of late antiquity was a culture that cared passionately about ideas. It could not have imagined our present timidity, which keeps discussion of the important things locked safely in the closet while obsessing over sports and whatever Paris Hilton is doing today!

The question that nearly tore apart the fourth-century Church was not a trivial one. In plain English, it was Jesus' question: "Who do you say I am?” Peter's answer—"You are the Christ, the Son of the Blessed"—has always been the faith of the Church.

Jesus had, after all, claimed to be God, and he had showed that he wasn’t kidding by rising from the dead. Yet, while he insisted that he was God, he also did puzzling things like saying, "The Father is greater than I" (Jn 14:28). What did it all mean?

A fourth-century theologian named Arius was sure he knew. He declared that Jesus was a sort of godlet, not God with a capital G. He preached that Jesus was sort of like a super-archangel: greater than all other creatures (and so "divine" in comparison with the rest of creation), but not actually God. This seems abstract, but it actually constituted an assault on the most fundamental basics of the Christian faith, because if Jesus is not God, he can neither save nor give eternal life (that is, the life of God) to us.

The Council of Nicaea, in resolving this "Arian controversy," insists (following St. John) that Christ is "begotten, not made." Why? For the same reason we insist that our children are not the same as statues. An artist makes a statue; he begets a son. To beget is to share your nature with another being. God made human beings. But God the Father begets the Son eternally. The Son shares his Father's nature. And since the nature of the Father is to have no beginning, the Son also has no beginning. He is "born of the Father before all ages." In him is eternal life from the Father, and, therefore, he can share that life with us creatures.

The eternity of Christ is stunning to contemplate: that this manual laborer who stands before us with dirty feet, calloused hands, and a rough up-country accent is, in fact, the Being who has existed from all eternity in the blinding light of the heart of God, sharing completely in his glory and showing forth the express image of the Holy One who hurled all the galaxies into being. It is rather a lot to take in. It's no wonder the Son "emptied himself," as Paul says, becoming human and dimming his splendor so that our mortal eyes could see him.

And yet, even dimmed, he remains the Light of the World. When you look at the sun, do you see the sun or the light from the sun? Obviously, to do the one is to do the other. Christianity says the same thing is happening when you look at Christ. If you've seen the Son, you've seen the Father, for the Son is the exact representation of the Father, just as sunlight carries with it the exact representation of the sun from which it came. That is why the Creed calls Jesus "Light from Light."

The doctrine of the Trinity is frequently despised by our post-Christian culture as the archetype of sterile philosophical disputation. But in reality, it simply means that God is love. Jesus revealed to his startled hearers that God was most deeply one in the way a family is one. There exists within God the mystery of the family, of a Father who begets the Son in perfect self-donating love, of a Son who mirrors that love back to the Father in perfect adoration, and of a Holy Spirit who eternally proceeds from this mysterious union of Persons, yet all the Persons are one God. It was to take us into that eternal dance of glory that the Son came.

Just Follow Your (Informed) Conscience

Is it really that simple? Yes. No. Maybe! Yes, it's simple, but not quite that simple.

A woman steals food for her family when her unemployment runs out. A man decides not to report cash income on his taxes. When faced with moral decisions, people say that you must follow your conscience, and indeed that is what one must do. But how do we hear our consciences, and is it possible to follow one's conscience and still be wrong?

The Catholic Church teaches a principle called "primacy of conscience," which means that conscience is the ultimate authority and we're compelled to follow it: "A human being must always obey the certain judgment of his conscience" (Catechism of the Catholic Church, #1790). We must also make the effort to have an "informed" conscience: "The education of the conscience is a lifelong task" (CCC, #1784). "To this purpose, man strives to interpret the data of experience and the signs of the times assisted by the virtue of prudence, by the advice of competent people, and by the help of the Holy Spirit and his gifts" (CCC, #1788). In other words, it's not just doing what feels good.

So how does a person develop a well-formed conscience? Here are some traps as well as positive steps to consider in coming to decisions of conscience.

Traps to conscience formation

1. Rationalization. When faced with paying income taxes, it's tempting to think, Hey, rich people get big tax breaks. Is it really so wrong for me to fudge a little on my income tax return? Sometimes we so strongly want to do something (or avoid doing something) that we talk ourselves into (or out of) it. We find ways to justify our actions even though an outsider would spot flaws in our logic.

2. Scrupulosity. Another trap is being scrupulous about the letter of the law while missing its spirit. When Susan was a child, her godparents took her out for a lobster dinner every Good Friday. Technically, they kept the law of abstaining from meat, but a lobster dinner was hardly the sacrifice the law intended.

Sometimes avoiding scrupulosity might mean praying less formally or putting aside a man-made rule for the good of another person. This has pitfalls, of course, but when we are unsure, Scripture counsels that the final goal "is love that comes from a pure heart, a good conscience, and sincere faith" (1 Timothy 1:5).

3. Going along with the crowd. How could so many people be wrong? For years, most adults didn't think twice about driving after drinking. Just because it's common doesn't make it right. When we're in the minority, we need to have the courage to make unpopular decisions and use our voices respectfully. Decisions are stronger when many different voices are considered, but conscience is the final arbiter.

4. If it feels good, do it. Conscience shouldn't be guided solely by emotion. Following it may not coincide with happiness—at least not fleeting feelings of bliss. Eating half a dozen doughnuts may feel good—temporarily—but this affects one's long-term health. Conversely, taking medicine or studying for a test might not be pleasant but is conscientious. A feeling of uneasiness may be our conscience warning us, but feeling happy doesn't necessarily mean an action is O.K. Sometimes the best action might be restraint.

5. It's my body; it's my business. Just because I'm not directly harming another person doesn't mean my action is good. Drug addiction or pornography may seem like victimless crimes, but they not only hurt the doer, they also weaken the moral fabric of society.

Steps to forming a Christian conscience

The STOP method is an easy-to-remember framework for checking one's conscience.

S — Study. Decisions of conscience begin with knowledge. It's not a matter of being smart, but of making serious efforts to learn the facts from credible sources, such as reading what the Church teaches and consulting experts in the field. Don't just go on hearsay or Internet blogs.

T — Think Together. It's best not to make decisions in isolation. A married couple shouldn't make an important moral deci­sion without discussing it and coming to something mutually agreeable. In faith consensus before making a decision. In both situations, it involves evaluating and weighing the information gathered in the Study phase.

O — Others' Experiences. Wisdom is also carried by others who have had experi­ence with the issue. Consulting others whose experience has led them to differ­ent conclusions is a helpful way to sort out our rationalizations. Don't listen only to people with whom you agree.

P — Pray. Important decisions should always be brought to prayer so that we can check our rationalizations and be honest before God. Prayer provides us time to listen and sort. It's not the same as waiting for a magical sign from God, but rather noticing if we're at peace with the emerging decision.

Criteria for well-formed decisions

Done all the steps? Checked for traps? Still not sure? This quick version of conscience formation could be summed up by asking oneself two other questions: Is my contemplated decision life-giving? Is it generous? A well-formed conscience doesn't simply apply rules but brings the whole self to the decision and weighs how each decision will affect the common good.

Decisions are meaningless without actions. Sometimes it can feel satisfying just to keep thinking, sorting, weighing and praying. There are times, however, when a person of conscience has to act in a public way. For example, a whistle-blower may risk a job in order to bring attention to a faulty product or dishonest superiors. Writing letters to the editor or attending a public demonstration against unjust policies takes time and stretches our comfort level. Sometimes complaining can be the lazy alternative to investing the self-discipline it takes to come up with a concrete plan. Ah, what cost discipleship!

Permission to Publish received for this article, "Just Follow Your (Informed) Conscience" by Jim and Susan Vogt, from Rev. Joseph R. Binzer, Vicar General, Archdiocese of Cincinnati, 5-13-2010.

Question of the Week

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Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

Faithful Christians

Reading I           Habakkuk 1:2-3; 2:2-4a (Habakkuk's complaint)

Reading II          2 Timothy 1:6-8, 13-14 (exhortation to faithfulness)

Gospel                 Luke 17:5-10 (sayings on the requirements of faith)

Key Passage

Jesus said, "So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, 'We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!" (Luke 17:10)

Adult         When have you done more than was required of you in the service of others?

Child          When have you done so

Catholic Bones

THE commitment I envision must be in our Catholic bones: the need to assemble each Sunday, to make common prayer in song, to hear the scriptures and reflect on them, to intercede for all the world, to gather at the holy table and give God thanks and praise over the bread and wine which are for us the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, and finally to go from that room to our separate worlds—but now carrying the tune we have heard, murmuring the words, we have made ours, nourished by the sacred banquet, ready in so many ways to make all God's creation and all the work of human hands into the kingdom we have glimpsed in the liturgy. . . .

At this table we put aside every worldly separation based on culture, class, or other differences. Baptized, we no longer admit to distinctions based on age or sex or race or wealth. This communion is why all prejudice, all racism, all sexism, all deference to wealth and power must be banished from our parishes, our homes, and our lives. This communion is why we will not call enemies those who are human beings like ourselves. This communion is why we will not commit the world's resources to an escalating arms race while the poor die. We cannot. Not when we have feasted here on the "body broken" and "blood poured out" for the life of

the world.

Joseph Cardinal Bernardin

Twenty-sixth Sunday Ordinary Time C

For today's scripture readings click here

The parable of Dives and Lazarus, like the words of Timothy, is a warning against wealth, consumerism, and materialism.

Enjoyment and abundance lived apart from care for the poor leads to spiritual destruction. 

Dives’ sin is not only his consumption but his apathy. 

He may not even notice the beggar at the door and, if he does, Lazarus is an inconvenience, standing in the way of enjoying his property, and frankly a blight on the neighborhood. 

In the afterlife, the tables are turned and now Dives suffers, while the beggar rejoices.

Is the gap between the rich and poor unbridgeable? 

Are the wealthy in jeopardy of losing their souls if they forget the poor? 

This is convicting language as we learn that the gap between the wealthy and poor is widening in the USA

and that the middle class as a group are shrinking in a time of record corporate and personal profits among the wealthy. 

While the poor do not have moral privilege, it is incumbent upon persons who affirm the way of Jesus to provide for the poor and the growing marginal middle class adequate food, housing, education, and health care.

This shifting of values is not optional for followers of Jesus; it is a spiritual and ethical requirement. 

Simply saying “Lord, Lord” and believing in the Bible is insufficient to save our spiritual lives if we turn our back on the poor. 

Sadly, many Bible-believing Christians spearhead legislation that would rob the poor of educational equality, voting rights, health care, and the ability to care for their children. 

Can such persons claim the name Christian? 

And can we in our own apathy? 

The gospel asserts that there is hell to pay for those who neglect the poor!

tw

Question of the Week

For complete scripture readings click here

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The rich and the poor

Reading I       Amos 6:1a, 4-7 (third woe)

Reading II      1 Timothy 6:11-16 (the good fight of faith)

Gospel             Luke 16:19-31 (the rich man and Lazarus)

Key Passage   There was a rich man and at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man's table. (Luke 16:19-21)

Adult What are the "rewards" of caring for the needs of the poor?

Child   What is one thing you and your family could do this week to help those who are poor or sick?

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

For today's scripture readings click here.

Jesus develops the narrative in such a way that it focuses on the issue of trust between the rich man and his steward;

 in other words, on the interpersonal basis of their relationship.”

Trust  in a relationship. Trust, with the ones you know. Trust, with the stranger.

I believe, for all of my dull-witted thinking and weak-willed heart, the parable was firmly about “the rich man.”

After all, it bluntly began with its main subject: There was a rich man….

But it doesn’t matter that he’s rich.

So, it’s really about a man

but it also doesn’t matter that the lead character was masculine.

It’s about how humans live with other humans.

How does the rich man act?

How does the manager act?

Nothing the manager did revealed him as a loving, vulnerable human. Instead, the manager was manipulative and selfish.

In Jesus’ tale, we were given a glimpse of the manager’s thoughts:  What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me?

What! His master didn’t take the position away!

The manager screwed himself by squandering the rich man’s property. But, ah, how humans craftily blame another.

 I’ve met people like the manager, who casually and consistently blamed others for their failures.

Do you wish me, in my faith, to sally forth and be like the manager?

No. Thank. You.

There was a flawed, curious, hopeful, forgiving human in this story.

And that person was the story’s focus.

The rich man’s essential question to the manager will be: What is this that I hear about ___?

What’s the word the rich man used?

Was he concerned about his possessions, pride, and prestige or about how others saw him, or did he fret about his retirement fund and stock options?

Nope. Instead, his odd, personal question was: What is this that I hear about you?

The rich man was wounded;

the steward had wrecked their relationship by his  greed/incompetence/laziness/silence.

But there were no accusations from the rich man to his manager about the manager’s “work.”

We, the reader and hearer of this troubling tale, discover and rediscover how Jesus felt about the value and vulnerability of relationships.

I have long believed Jesus didn’t call anyone to follow him into a particular religion.

Jesus, after all, was never Christian (in any of Christianity’s thousand variations).

 And as a Jew, Jesus unsettled his fellow Jews by claiming he didn’t come to change a single “iota” of the law and yet kept exposing the flaws of the laws.

Turn the other cheek and (by the way) don’t think you only have two cheeks.

 Forgiveness trumped finances.

 Intolerance was intolerable.

The institution of any religion was and is never as precious as the individual.

Why does this parable trouble me so?

It invites me to prioritize relationship over religion and persons over property.

 It demands I trust you.

And when I do, I believe that makes me rich.