Orthodox Delegate Speaks of Pope as Sign of Unity

Archimandrite Ignatios Sotiriadis

"Your Holiness," he said, "our society is tired and sick. It seeks but does not find! It drinks but its thirst is not quenched. Our society demands of us Christians -- Catholics, Orthodox, Protestants, Anglicans -- a common witness, a unified voice. Here lies our responsibility as pastors of the Churches in the 21st Century."

"Here," the Orthodox pastor continued, "is the primary mission of the First Bishop of Christianity, of him who presides in charity, and, above all, of a Pope who is Magister Theologiae: to be the visible and paternal sign of unity and to lead under the guidance of the Holy Spirit and according to Sacred Tradition, with wisdom, humility and dynamism, together with all the bishops of the world, fellow successors of the apostles, all humanity to Christ the redeemer."

"This is the profound desire of those who have the painful longing in their heart for the undivided Church, 'Una, Sancta, Catholica et Apostolica,'" he concluded. "But it is also the desire of those who, again today, in a world without Christ, fervently, but also with filial trust and faith, repeat the words of the apostles: 'Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life!'"

(Source: Zenit, October 12, 2008)

Without a Pope: Orthodoxy & Unity

"His All Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew addresses the heads of the Orthodox churches in the Patriarchal Cathedral of Saint George." (October 10, 2008, Photo by N. Manginas)

Patrick Archbold of Creative Minority Report published this post on Patriarch Bartholomew's Friday address to the heads of the Orthodox churches. I recommend reading the Patriarch's complete address, because it is almost all about unity, especially starting in section 5. The most interesting part comes at the end, however, when the Patriarch says this:

We need, then, greater unity in order to appear to those outside not as a federation of Churches but as one unified Church. Through the centuries, and especially after the Schism, when the Church of Rome ceased to be in communion with the Orthodox, this Throne [i.e. in Constantinople] was called -- according to canonical order -- to serve the unity of the Orthodox Church as its first Throne. And it fulfilled this responsibility through the ages by convoking an entire series of Panorthodox Councils on crucial ecclesiastical matters, always prepared, whenever duly approached, to render its assistance and support to troubled Orthodox Churches. (my emphases)

Patrick Archbold writes:

The Ecumenical Patriarch rightly sees the problem. The Church needs to be Visibly unified to the world, not just a federation of independent State churches. That visible unity must come by way of public and open Communion with One See and its Patriarch. The Ecumenical Patriarch even goes so far as to say that this responsibility falls to his see and his person only because of the break with Rome. I think, although I may be reading into this with Roman eyes, that the Ecumenical Patriarch might even agree that were communion with Rome re-established, the role of being the visible unifier of the Church would no longer fall to him and his See.

Now I know that the Patriarchs of many of these autocephalous Churches would vehemently disagree with such a notion, whether Rome or Constantinople. With that said, I think that the Ecumenical Patriarch's pitch to his fellow Orthodox is an important step in the road to full and visible Unity of the Church as Jesus prayed. If these national Churches come to realize the importance of that visible unity to the world, we will be that much closer to being one, as Jesus and the Father are one.

I agree with Patrick's comments. It is a basic principle of metaphysics that you can't get unity from non-unity, just as you can't get being from non-being. Patriarch Bartholomew wants visible unity, saying, "We need, then, greater unity in order to appear to those outside not as a federation of Churches but as one unified Church." If the Orthodox are not a mere federation of Churches, but are in fact a visible unity, then there should be no worry about their appearing as a mere federation of Churches. But if they are a mere federation of Churches, then they can't solve this disunity problem by redoubling their efforts to be more unified with each other, because the problem is in that case an ontological problem, not merely a deficiency of cooperation or collaborative effort.

Trying to achieve or establish visible unity by means of a principium unitatis, i.e. being united to an existing visible unity, likewise faces the following dilemma. If Christ did not found the Church with a principium unitatis, then clearly we should not seek to outdo Christ by establishing one. But if Christ did found the Church with a principium unitatis, then visible unity can be attained only by union with that divinely appointed principium unitatis.

Patriarch Bartholomew seems to be aware of the need for a principium unitatis for visible unity. This is revealed in his emphasis on the importance of his own Throne for the visible unity of the Church. He is thus in a difficult situation. On the one hand, without a principium unitatis there cannot be actual visible unity. On the other hand, insofar as he seeks to elevate his own Throne as a principium unitatis, he highlights the intrinsic need for Orthodox reunion with the Chair of St. Peter.

Speaking as a Catholic, it is our constant prayer and desire for the restoration of full communion with our Orthodox brothers and sisters. We long for that day of reconciliation and reunion. We pray for full visible unity among all Christians, for this is the desire of the sacred heart of our Lord Jesus, that we would be one, as He and the Father are one.

Holy Spirit, hasten the day when we are one with one another. Make our hearts to beat with the same deep desire and passion as that of Christ's heart. Heal the wounds that divide us. Help us overcome the obstacles that keep us separated. Clothe us in true humility and fill us with charity toward one another. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Baptism, Schism, Full Communion, Salvation

St Ansanus Baptizing
Giovanni di Paulo, 1440s

What does the Catholic Church believe and teach about the state of persons who are baptized but not in full communion with the Catholic Church? There are two not entirely uncommon misunderstandings of the Catholic Church's teaching on this question. One is that such persons are entirely separated from the Body of Christ and from Christ. The other is that such persons are perfectly joined to the Body of Christ and to Christ.

In order to understand the Catholic Church's teaching on this question, we first have to understand what she believes about baptism. Consider the following paragraphs from the Catechism:

"Through Baptism we are freed from sin and reborn as sons of God; we become members of Christ, are incorporated into the Church and made sharers in her mission" (CCC 1213)

"Baptism makes us members of the Body of Christ: "Therefore . . . we are members one of another." Baptism incorporates us into the Church. From the baptismal fonts is born the one People of God of the New Covenant, which transcends all the natural or human limits of nations, cultures, races, and sexes: "For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body." (CCC 1267)

According to the Catholic Church, in baptism, the Holy Spirit frees us from sin and gives us new birth and incorporates us into Christ and His Body, the Church. But, baptism is not the end of the story.

"From the time of the apostles, becoming a Christian has been accomplished by a journey and initiation in several stages. This journey can be covered rapidly or slowly, but certain essential elements will always have to be present: proclamation of the Word, acceptance of the Gospel entailing conversion, profession of faith, Baptism itself, the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, and admission to Eucharistic communion." (CCC 1229, my emphasis)

Notice that according to the Catholic Church, becoming a Christian is not accurately understood as an instantaneous event, but rather as a process involving "several stages." For adult converts, baptism follows a profession of faith. But baptism is not the end of the process of becoming a Christian. Baptism is followed by an additional sacrament (Confirmation / Chrismation) in which one receives the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. And this is followed by admission to the highest sacrament: Holy Eucharist, a sign of full communion with the Church.

That is because although baptism incorporates a person into the Church, it does not bring a person into full communion with the Church if the person being baptized professes anything contrary to the true faith. Baptism puts such a person into an actual but "imperfect communion" with the Body of Christ. In his encyclical titled Mystici Corporis Christi, Pope Pius XII writes:

Actually only those are to be included as members of the Church who have been baptized and profess the true faith, and who have not been so unfortunate as to separate themselves from the unity of the Body, or been excluded by legitimate authority for grave faults committed. [Para. 22]

A baptized person who, due to invincible ignorance does not profess the true faith may, in virtue of his baptism, retain imperfect communion with Christ and His Church. That is, he can possibly remain in a state of grace. Likewise, a baptized person who does profess the true faith may, by committing a mortal sin, cease to be in a state of grace. Being in full communion with the Catholic Church does not entail being in a state of grace, and being in a state of grace does not entail being in full communion with the Catholic Church. But being in full communion with Christ's Church provides the greatest access to the sacramental means of grace, and thus the means of sanctification and perfection.

One objection here is that the online translation of Unitatis Redintegratio says the following:

But even in spite of them it remains true that all who have been justified by faith in Baptism are members of Christ's body,(21) and have a right to be called Christian, and so are correctly accepted as brothers by the children of the Catholic Church. (Unitatis Redintegratio, 3)

First, the translation is misleading. The Latin does not say "are members of Christ's body." It reads, "Christo incorporantur," i.e. are incorporated into Christ. Second, this statement references the Council of Florence, which stated "Holy baptism holds the first place among all the sacraments, for it is the gate of the spiritual life; through it we become members of Christ and of the body of the church." (source) The Council of Florence is only teaching that baptism makes one a member of the Body of Christ. It is not teaching that baptized persons who deny some article of the Catholic faith, or who are in a state of excommunication or are in schism from the Church, are members of the Church. The meaning of this phrase "Christo incorporantur" in Unitatis Redintegratio 3 in reference to Protestants is specified earlier in that same paragraph, which explains, "For men who believe in Christ and have been properly baptized are brought into a certain, though imperfect, communion with the Catholic Church. Undoubtedly, the differences that exist in varying degrees between them and the Catholic Church -- whether in doctrine and sometimes in discipline, or concerning the structure of the Church -- do indeed create many and sometimes serious obstacles to full ecclesiastical communion." As soon as a baptized person denies some article of the Catholic faith, or separates himself from the visible unity of the Catholic Church, then he is no longer a member in the proper sense defined by Mystici Corporis Christi, even though he remains imperfectly joined to the Church through baptism.

Though baptism does not entail full communion, baptism is the gateway for all the subsequent sacramental graces, as the Catechism explains:

"Baptism constitutes the foundation of communion among all Christians, including those who are not yet in full communion with the Catholic Church: "For men who believe in Christ and have been properly baptized are put in some, though imperfect, communion with the Catholic Church. Justified by faith in Baptism, [they] are incorporated into Christ; they therefore have a right to be called Christians, and with good reason are accepted as brothers by the children of the Catholic Church." "Baptism therefore constitutes the sacramental bond of unity existing among all who through it are reborn." (CCC 1271, my emphasis)

"The Church knows that she is joined in many ways to the baptized who are honored by the name of Christian, but do not profess the Catholic faith in its entirety or have not preserved unity or communion under the successor of Peter." Those "who believe in Christ and have been properly baptized are put in a certain, although imperfect, communion with the Catholic Church. With the Orthodox Churches, this communion is so profound "that it lacks little to attain the fullness that would permit a common celebration of the Lord's Eucharist." (CCC 838, my emphasis)

This statement shows that the Protestant is "joined in many ways" to the Catholic Church, being in a "certain, although imperfect, communion with the Catholic Church". (The communion of the Orthodox with the Catholic Church is much fuller, for we share the same sacraments, apostolic succession, and the faith as defined by the first seven Ecumenical Councils.) When a Protestant was baptized in a Protestant community (assuming it was a valid baptism), he was brought into an actual, but "imperfect, communion with the Catholic Church." Being "in the Catholic Church" is not a simple either/or; there are different stages of being "in" (or "in communion" with) the Catholic Church. Baptism is the first stage, the foundation for the others. It is the will of Christ, according to the Catholic Church, that all baptized believers be fully incorporated into His Body, the Church. This involves professing the very same faith that the Church teaches, sharing in all the same sacraments (especially the Eucharist), and recognizing and submitting to the successor of Peter and the bishops in communion with him as the successors of the Apostles. The Catechism states:

"For it is through Christ's Catholic Church alone, which is the universal help toward salvation, that the fullness of the means of salvation can be obtained. It was to the apostolic college alone, of which Peter is the head, that we believe that our Lord entrusted all the blessings of the New Covenant, in order to establish on earth the one Body of Christ into which all those should be fully incorporated who belong in any way to the People of God." (CCC 816, my emphases)

Here's what it means to be "fully incorporated" into the Catholic Church:

"Fully incorporated into the society of the Church are those who, possessing the Spirit of Christ, accept all the means of salvation given to the Church together with her entire organization, and who - by the bonds constituted by the profession of faith, the sacraments, ecclesiastical government, and communion - are joined in the visible structure of the Church of Christ, who rules her through the Supreme Pontiff and the bishops. Even though incorporated into the Church, one who does not however persevere in charity is not saved. He remains indeed in the bosom of the Church, but 'in body' not 'in heart.'" (CCC 837)

It should be clear from this in what sense the Protestant is not "fully incorporated" into the Catholic Church. The Protestant, though having some communion with the Church through his baptism, does not profess the entire Catholic faith, share the other Catholic sacraments or accept and submit to the government of the Catholic Church. Does that mean that those baptized persons who are not in full communion with the Catholic Church are unable to grow in Christ, or unable to be saved? No. The Catechism explains:

"Furthermore, many elements of sanctification and of truth" are found outside the visible confines of the Catholic Church: "the written Word of God; the life of grace; faith, hope, and charity, with the other interior gifts of the Holy Spirit, as well as visible elements." Christ's Spirit uses these Churches and ecclesial communities as means of salvation, whose power derives from the fullness of grace and truth that Christ has entrusted to the Catholic Church." (CCC 819)

Notice the phrase "visible confines of the Catholic Church." Even though, as we saw above, the Protestant is, through his baptism, in an "imperfect, communion with the Catholic Church", yet because he has not been received into full communion with the Catholic Church, he is "outside the visible confines of the Catholic Church." So, there are degrees or stages of union with (and separation from) the Catholic Church.

Does that mean that those baptized persons who believe in Christ but are not fully incorporated into the Catholic Church are guilty of the sin of separation? Not necessarily.

"However, one cannot charge with the sin of the separation those who at present are born into these communities [that resulted from such separation] and in them are brought up in the faith of Christ, and the Catholic Church accepts them with respect and affection as brothers . . . . All who have been justified by faith in Baptism are incorporated into Christ; they therefore have a right to be called Christians, and with good reason are accepted as brothers in the Lord by the children of the Catholic Church." (CCC 818)

Those who are born into ecclesial communities that are not in full communion with the Catholic Church are not guilty of the sin of separating from the Catholic Church. From the point of view of the Catholic Church, they are brothers and sisters in Christ, even though they are not yet in full communion with the Church. The Catholic Church prays that all such persons and communities will be restored to full communion with her. Why are such persons not guilty of the sin of separating from the Catholic Church? Because they did not choose to separate from the Catholic Church, nor do they "know that the Catholic Church was founded as necessary by God through Christ".

"How are we to understand this affirmation ["Outside the Church there is no salvation"], often repeated by the Church Fathers? Re-formulated positively, it means that all salvation comes from Christ the Head through the Church which is his Body:

Basing itself on Scripture and Tradition, the Council teaches that the Church, a pilgrim now on earth, is necessary for salvation: the one Christ is the mediator and the way of salvation; he is present to us in his body which is the Church. He himself explicitly asserted the necessity of faith and Baptism, and thereby affirmed at the same time the necessity of the Church which men enter through Baptism as through a door. Hence they could not be saved who, knowing that the Catholic Church was founded as necessary by God through Christ, would refuse either to enter it or to remain in it." (CCC 846, my emphasis)

The Church is very clear on this point. Those who know that the Catholic Church was founded as necessary by God through Christ, and refuse either to enter it or remain in it, cannot be saved. (This is because schism is a grave matter, and such persons would be committing a mortal sin.) That is why those who are born into separated ecclesial communities are not ipso facto guilty of the sin of separation (i.e. schism), because they know not what they do. They do not know that the Catholic Church is the Church that Christ founded and to which all men are called to enter for salvation as that of which Noah's ark was a type. Hence the Catechism says:

"This affirmation is not aimed at those who, through no fault of their own, do not know Christ and his Church: Those who, through no fault of their own, do not know the Gospel of Christ or his Church, but who nevertheless seek God with a sincere heart, and, moved by grace, try in their actions to do his will as they know it through the dictates of their conscience - those too may achieve eternal salvation." (CCC 847)

The statement "no salvation outside the Church" refers to this broadest, minimal degree of communion with the Catholic Church. That is why Catechumens (who by definition have not yet been baptized), can still be saved even if they die before their baptism, because they have what is called a "baptism by desire," and thus are already (in an initial and imperfect way) spiritually joined to the Catholic Church.

"Catechumens "are already joined to the Church, they are already of the household of Christ, and are quite frequently already living a life of faith, hope, and charity." (CCC 1249)

The Catechism thus teaches that salvation always comes from Christ through the Church, which is His Body. The necessity of baptism for salvation is a basic teaching of the Church, because the necessity of baptism is understood to be a basic teaching of Christ. The Church's teaching that it is possible for those who have never heard the Gospel to achieve eternal salvation does not negate the necessity of baptism or the necessity of Christ or His Church. It is an acknowledgment that the mercy and power of God are not necessarily limited to what we perceive with our senses. Just because we do not see a person receiving baptism, that does not mean we are justified in concluding that this person, upon death, must be in hell. That is why we cannot justifiably say that "that atheist" who died some time ago is in hell. The Church makes official declarations about certain people being in heaven (i.e. Saints), but it does not presume to be judge of which persons received eternal damnation. The Church can spell out and explicate the state of soul that leads to eternal damnation, but she does not presume to determine the eternally damned state of any particular soul; she leaves them to the mercy of God. The Catholic Church does teach that full incorporation into the Church is so important that those who know that the Catholic Church was founded as necessary by God through Christ, and yet refuse to enter it or remain in it, cannot (in that state) be saved.

The short of it is that through baptism the Protestant is actually, but imperfectly, and only invisibly, joined to the Catholic Church. Baptism is a Catholic sacrament, because it was entrusted by Christ to the Catholic Church, and has its validity through the Catholic Church, even when it is administered by a Protestant. But a Protestant (while Protestant) is not fully incorporated into the Catholic Church, or in "full communion" with the Catholic Church. That is why a Protestant cannot receive the Holy Eucharist at a Catholic parish. Does that mean that a Protestant's salvation is in jeopardy? Yes and no. Those Protestants who do not know "that the Catholic Church was founded as necessary by God through Christ" can be saved. But no one should use the Church's acknowledgment that those not in full communion with the Church can be saved as an excuse for not seeking full communion with the Church, or as a justification for remaining in schism from the Church that Christ founded. Apart from the sacraments Christ established in His Church it is much more difficult to attain to the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.

For more on the relation of baptism to Christian unity, see my post titled "Baptism and Christian Unity".

Love and Unity: Part 3

The Visitation
Mariotto Albertinelli (1503)

Part 1 is here, and part 2 is here.

In this part of my discussion on the relation of love and unity, I focus on St. Thomas Aquinas's distinction between two different kinds of love, and the types of unity to which they are ordered.

Two Types of Love
In his answer to the question "whether in God there is love", Aquinas writes the following:

An act of love always tends towards two things; to the good that one wills, and to the person for whom one wills it: since to love a person is to wish that person good. Hence, inasmuch as we love ourselves, we wish ourselves good; and, so far as possible, union with that good. So love is called the unitive force, even in God, yet without implying composition; for the good that He wills for Himself, is no other than Himself, Who is good by His essence, as above shown (6, 1, 3). And by the fact that anyone loves another, he wills good to that other. Thus he puts the other, as it were, in the place of himself; and regards the good done to him as done to himself. So far love is a binding force [vis concretiva], since it aggregates another to ourselves [quia alium aggregat sibi], and refers his good to our own. And then again the divine love is a binding force, inasmuch as God wills good to others; yet it implies no composition in God. (ST I Q.20 a.1 ad.3)

This consideration of the nature of love reveals the basis for Aquinas's distinction between love of friendship and love of concupiscence (amorem amicitiae et amorem concupiscentiae). (ST I-II Q.26 a.4) First he refers to Aristotle's statement that "to love is to wish good to someone." From this Aquinas draws the conclusion that love by its very nature has a twofold tendency: "towards the good which a man wishes to someone (to himself or to another) and towards that to which he wishes some good." This twofold tendency intrinsic to love makes possible the difference between love of friendship and love of concupiscence. He explains the difference between these two kinds of love when he says that "man has love of concupiscence towards the good that he wishes to another, and love of friendship towards him to whom he wishes good." These two kinds of love are related as primary and secondary, in this way: "that which is loved with the love of friendship is loved simply and for itself (simpliciter et per se amatur); whereas that which is loved with the love of concupiscence, is loved, not simply and for itself, but for something else."

If we love something in the sense of wishing good to it for its own sake, that is the type of love Aquinas calls 'love of friendship'. But if we love something in the sense of wishing it to be the good of something or someone else, that is the type of love he calls 'love of concupiscence'. For example, if we love an apple, we love it in the sense of wishing it to be a good for someone (either our self or someone else) when it is eaten. The type of love we have for the apple, in that case, is 'love of concupiscence'. But if we love a friend with the 'love of friendship', we love our friend not as a means to a further good to ourselves, but simpliciter et per se, that is, for his own sake, and that is why we wish good to come to him.

Aquinas then adds: "the love with which a thing is loved, that it may have some good, is love simply; while the love, with which a thing is loved, that it may be another's good, is relative love." So love of concupiscence is relative love; it is directed toward a good with the intention that it may be another's good. Love of friendship, by contrast, is love simply; it is directed toward something with the intention that it have some good.

If we are loving something as a good for ourselves, it is plain that such love is unitive in this respect, that we seek to be united to that good such that it becomes our good. In the example of loving the apple, we desire the apple to be united to us through eating the apple, so that it provides the goods of nourishing our body, satisfying our hunger and pleasing our palate. So the type of unity aimed at by the 'love of concupiscence' is the having of the beloved good by the lover.

In what way then, does the love of friendship aim at unity? Given what I have said about the manner in which love of concupiscence is unitive, it may seem initially that, as directed toward other persons, love of friendship is unitive only in the sense that the lover wishes that what is good for his friend be united to his friend. What I wish to show here and in part 4 is how the the love of friendship also seeks union of the lover and the friend.

Unity as a Cause of Love
In order develop this argument, we need to consider the ways in which union is both a cause and an effect of love. First, let us consider briefly how, according to Aquinas, union is a cause of love. According to Aquinas, union is a cause of love in two ways. The type of union that causes the love with which one loves oneself is substantial union. (ST I-II Q.28 a.1 ad.2) This claim has its basis in what Aquinas said earlier, namely, that "everything has this aptitude towards its natural form, that when it has it not, it tends towards it; and when it has it, it is at rest therein. It is the same with every natural perfection, which is a natural good." (ST I Q.19 a.1 co.) And elsewhere he writes, "But it is common to every nature to have some inclination; and this is its natural appetite or love." (ST I Q.60 a.1 co.) The transcendental relation of being, unity and goodness shows that insofar as everything is naturally inclined to its perfection, so it is naturally inclined to its being and unity. Hence Aquinas says elsewhere, "[H]ence it is that everything guards its unity as it guards its being." (Et inde est quod unumquodque, sicut custodit suum esse, ita custodit suam unitatem.)(ST I Q.11 a.1 co.)

The second way in which unity causes love is by unity of likeness. We have seen this already in our discussion of connaturality in Part 2, where we saw that the principle of movement in the appetite is the appetitive subject's connaturality with the thing to which it tends. Connaturality is a kind of likeness of natures. According to Aquinas, there are two types of likeness between things, and each type of likeness causes a different type of love. One type of likeness between two things arises when each thing has the same quality actuality. The other type of likeness between two things arises when one thing has "potentially and by way of inclination, a quality which the other has actually". (ST I-II Q.27 a.3 co.) The first type of likeness, that is, the type of likeness that arises when each thing has the same quality actuality, is love of friendship. Aquinas writes, "For the very fact that two men are alike, having, as it were, one form, makes them to be, in a manner, one in that form: thus two men are one thing in the species of humanity, and two white men are one thing in whiteness. Hence the affections of one tend to the other, as being one with him; and he wishes good to him as to himself. But the second kind of likeness causes love of concupiscence, or friendship founded on usefulness or pleasure: because whatever is in potentiality, as such, has the desire for its act; and it takes pleasure in its realization, if it be a sentient and cognitive being." (ST I-II Q.27 a.3 co.) Thus we can be caused to love another person by likeness in two general ways. Either the other person has actually some good quality that we have potentiality, or the other person has actually some quality that we have actually. In the former case, either we love the other as a means to the actualization of our potentiality, or we love the other as a pleasing subjunctive depiction of what we would be were our potentiality actualized. But in the case where both the lover and the beloved share the likeness of actuality to actuality, that which is like need not be only a quality or set of qualities; it may also be a nature, for example, human nature. Love caused directly by apprehended likeness of this sort is love of friendship.

Two types of Unity
Aquinas teaches that the union of lover and beloved is fundamentally of two sorts. "The first is real union; for instance, when the beloved is present with the lover. The second is union of affection: and this union must be considered in relation to the preceding apprehension; since movement of the appetite follows apprehension." Aquinas explains this when he says, "The first of these unions [i.e. real union] is caused effectively by love; because love moves man to desire and seek the presence of the beloved, as of something suitable and belonging to him (quasi sibi convenientis et ad se pertinentis). The second union is caused formally by love; because love itself is this union or bond. In this sense Augustine says (De Trin. viii, 10) that "love is a vital principle uniting, or seeking to unite two together, the lover, to wit, and the beloved." For in describing it as "uniting" he refers to the union of affection, without which there is no love: and in saying that "it seeks to unite," he refers to real union." (ST I-II Q.28 a.1 co.)

Again, in the reply to the second objection he writes, "There is also a union which is essentially love itself. This union is according to a bond of affection, and is likened to substantial union, inasmuch as the lover stands to the object of his love, as to himself, if it be love of friendship; as to something belonging to himself, if it be love of concupiscence. Again there is a union, which is the effect of love. This is real union, which the lover seeks with the object of his love." (ST I-II Q.28 a.1 ad.2)

In this first article of question 28, Aquinas is making two points. First he is showing that the union of affection is essentially love itself, and this union is likened [assimilatur] to substantial union inasmuch as the lover stands to the beloved as to himself (i.e. in love of friendship), and to a lesser degree if the lover stands to the beloved as one stands toward something belonging to oneself (i.e. in love of concupiscence).

Aquinas's second point is that real union is the effect or goal of love; real union is what the union of affection seeks to bring about. Regarding real union as an effect of love he says, "Moreover this union [real union] is in keeping with the demands of love (convenientiam amoris: for as the Philosopher relates (Polit. ii, 1), "Aristophanes stated that lovers would wish to be united both into one," but since "this would result in either one or both being destroyed," they seek a suitable and becoming union--to live together, speak together, and be united together in other like things." (ST I-II Q.28 a.1 ad.2) In seeking real union love does not seek to destroy its own possibility, but seeks rather that which preserves its own actuality. Both types of love seek real union of the lover with the beloved.

In the middle of this article, Aquinas distinguishes between the two types of unity that are apprehended by the lover, and which give rise to the love of concupiscence and the love of friendship, respectively. He writes, "Now love being twofold, viz. love of concupiscence and love of friendship; each of these arises from a kind of apprehension of the oneness of the thing loved with the lover. For when we love a thing, by desiring it, we apprehend it as belonging to our well-being (quasi sibi convenientis et ad se pertinentis). In like manner when a man loves another with the love of friendship, he wills good to him, just as he wills good to himself: wherefore he apprehends him as his other self (vult ei bonum sicut et sibi vult bonum, unde apprehendit eum ut alterum se), in so far, to wit, as he wills good to him as to himself. Hence a friend is called a man's "other self" (Ethic. ix, 4), and Augustine says (Confess. iv, 6), "Well did one say to his friend: Thou half of my soul." (ST I-II Q.28 a.1 co.)

The kind of unity that when apprehended gives rise to love of concupiscence is one in which the lover stands to the beloved as to something belonging to himself (ut ad aliquid sui). This unity seems to be apprehended as a potential unity. The kind of unity that when apprehended gives rise to love of friendship is one in which the lover stands to the beloved as to himself (ut ad seipsum) [ST I-II Q.28 a.1 ad.2]. This unity seems to be apprehended as an actual unity, though this leaves open the discovery and dynamic creation of further actual unity, as well as the apprehension of potential unity.

So to summarize, first, substantial unity gives rise to self love. Second, there are two types of apprehended unity that give rise to the two types of love. These two types of apprehended unity are an accidental unity (i.e. of having or possessing a good for oneself) and a formal subjective unity of being another self. They give rise to love of concupiscence and love of friendship, respectively. In the former, the union aimed at by the appetite is the union of possessing the good loved, such that this good actualizes the lover's potential and thus perfects the lover. In the love of friendship, by contrast, the union aimed at by the appetite is a union of subject with subject, and this grounds the love of concupiscence towards the good that the lover wishes to his friend. The object of the love of friendship is not loved as a means to one's own perfection, but as another self. This is primarily a spiritual union of a self with another self, an outward extension of the love that one has for oneself to that which is another self. But the beloved as an object of the 'love of friendship' does not cease to be apprehended as a good any more than in self-love the self ceases to be apprehended as a good. On the contrary, just as the self is apprehended as a qualitatively greater good than all those goods perfecting of the self, so likewise the beloved as an object of the 'love of friendship' is apprehended as a qualitatively greater good than all those goods perfecting either oneself or the beloved (God excepted).

In the next part in this series I will examine the three ways in which love effects mutual indwelling, focusing most especially on the third way. I will be focusing particularly on the way in which love of friendship seeks not only that what is good for one's friend be united to one's friend, but also seeks the union of the lover with the friend. For this I will draw on Aquinas's commentary on chapter four of book nine of Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics.

A false dilemma regarding development of doctrine

At Michael Liccione's blog Philosophia Perennis, Iohannes presented a dilemma as a criticism of the Catholic notion of development of doctrine. Iohannes has since referred to the dilemma, as though the dilemma is not a false dilemma. But the dilemma is a false dilemma. Here's the dilemma, in my own paraphrase:

If the Magisterium can see that the proposed doctrine is implicit in the deposit of faith, then the Magisterium can in principle see more than other informed persons, and so tradition is no longer public in a meaningful sense. But if the Magisterium cannot see that the proposed doctrine is implicit in the deposit of faith, then the Magisterium lacks warrant to declare that the proposed doctrine is implicit in the deposit of faith.

This is a false dilemma because the consequent of the conditional in the first horn of the dilemma does not follow from the antecedent. Just because the Magisterium can see that the proposed doctrine is implicit in the deposit of faith, it does not follow that the Magisterium can in principle see more than other informed persons. The ability of the Magisterium to see that the proposed doctrine is implicit in the deposit of faith is fully compatible with other informed persons also seeing that the proposed doctrine is implicit in the deposit of faith. And since the consequent of the conditional in the first horn of this dilemma does not follow from the antecedent, therefore it does not follow that "tradition is no longer public in a meaningful sense". A dilemma is shown to be a false dilemma when one of its horns can be embraced by those holding the position against which the dilemma is directed. I have shown that Catholics can embrace the first horn of the dilemma without facing the negative consequences Iohannes claims follow from doing so. Therefore, I have shown that the dilemma Iohannes presents against the Catholic notion of development is a false dilemma.

Two years ago today

The Institution of the Eucharist
Joos van Wassenhove (1473-1475)

"Magnificat"
Composed by Arvo Pärt

On this day in 2006, my wife and two daughters and I were received into full communion with the Catholic Church, were all confirmed, and all received first communion. Seventeen days later I wrote the following:

"I am deeply moved in my soul at every mass. I find it to be extremely enriching, edifying, and profoundly beautiful. I sit in the very front, and after I partake, I kneel in prayer and I keep hearing the priest say over and over, "the body of Christ", as each person receives the Eucharist. I hear Christ given to each person; I hear Christ giving Himself to each person; I hear the body of Christ all around me, every beautiful person of all races and ages, all joined together by that act on Calvary and in that act on Calvary, all united in our love for Christ and sharing in His act of self-giving. I have never experienced anything more spiritually edifying and upbuilding in my entire life. In the Eucharist, I experience the love of Christ, that love than which no love is greater, the love shown in His giving up of His very body and blood for my salvation. In the Eucharist I am made a fellow participant in the sufferings of Christ; as I receive His body and blood I am so brought into union with Him that I feel as though I am also encountering His sufferings, the sufferings for which and by which my sins are removed. In the Eucharist I am raised up with Christ to where He is; I am assured of the resurrection of my body and life everlasting joined mysteriously but truly to Him who is Life Itself. In confession I am confronted with the gentleness and patience of Christ whose mercy is without limit. In Catholicism, particularly the mass and the sacraments, I encounter the living Christ, and am deeply and truly blessed and raised up in my faith and my love for God."

To all those who helped me find the way home, your gifts of courage, charity, gentleness, prayer and patient listening will always remain a part of me and my family. We are eternally indebted, and ever grateful. Thanks be to God.

"Pope to Patriarch: We Need Unity Faster"

This article resonates with my previous post.

Finding unity in persecution

[WARNING: there are some graphic images in these first links.] The persecution in Orissa has led to stories such as this and this . The homes of Christians have been burned. Nuns have been gang-raped. Many Christians, both Catholic and Protestant, have been killed simply for being Christian. Please pray for our brothers and sisters in Orissa.

In the West we face the prospect of another sort of persecution, not primarily a persecution coming from another theistic religion, but from a kind of religious irreligion. In its form, it is religious, but in its matter it is irreligious. The Catholic Catechism speaks of this religious irreligion in this way:

The supreme religious deception is that of the Antichrist, a pseudo-messianism by which man glorifies himself in place of God and of his Messiah come in the flesh. The Antichrist's deception already begins to take shape in the world every time the claim is made to realize within history that messianic hope which can only be realized beyond history through the eschatological judgment. The Church has rejected even modified forms of this falsification of the kingdom to come under the name of millenarianism, especially the "intrinsically perverse" political form of a secular messianism. (CCC 675-676)

Notice what the Catechism says about the Antichrist's deception. The Antichrist offers a false hope, a promise of present salvation which in fact can be actualized only after Christ returns in glory. This false hope denies the supernatural eschaton, though, paradoxically, in its ultimate climax it occasions Christ's return "in glory" through its futile attempt to achieve the state of paradise entirely by means of our own human efforts.

The words "in glory" were added to the Nicene Creed (they are not in the Apostles Creed) precisely to make explicit the nature of the difference between the return of the true Christ and the rise of false Christs, and ultimately the Antichrist. This addition to the Creed codifies what Jesus said, "At that time if anyone says to you, 'Look, here is the Christ!' or, 'There he is!' do not believe it." (St. Matthew 24:23)

The Antichrist offers present salvation from all man's troubles. He offers to do this through the strength and ingenuity of the natural power of man, that is, through economics, politics, science, technology, and a new religion that celebrates man in all his freedom, creativity, power, and goodness. In a way the following video reminds me of this very way of thinking; it can be summarized in those two words: "secular messianism".

Notice the lyrics:

----------------------------------
We're gonna spread happiness
We’re gonna spread freedom
Obama’s gonna change it
Obama’s gonna lead 'em

We're gonna change it
And rearrange it
We're gonna change the world.

Now's the moment, lift each voice to sing
Sing with all your heart!
For our children, for our families,
Nations all joined as one.
Sing for joy and sing abundant peace,
Courage, justice, hope!
Sing together, hold each precious hand,
Lifting each other up;
Sing for vision, sing for unity,
Lifting our hearts to Sing!

Yes we can
Lift each other up
In peace, in love, in hope
Change! Change!
--------------------------

This is the secular gospel. When we lose sight of Christ as the object of our hope, then necessarily our eyes are lowered, and we place our highest hope in man, not in the abstract, but in the concrete, one man.

Some Christians think that the goal of uniting all people is intrinsically evil. I myself used to think that, as I explained here. But that goal in itself is good; peace and unity among all mankind is good. The moral difference between Babel and Pentecost is not found in their goal of uniting mankind, but in that in which and through which we are to be united, man or God. The unitive efforts of the Antichrist are evil not in the sense of being the *opposite* of Christ's unitive intention of drawing all people together (St. John 12:32), but in the sense of being a *deficient imitation* of that true unity that comes only through Christ, in being joined to Him, into His Body the Church.

I have written in more detail elsewhere about the imminent and inevitable conflict between the "City of man" and the "City of God". These are two different ways of thinking, because they are two fundamentally different orientations. They correspond to that which was attempted at Babel, and that which was initiated at Pentecost, respectively. They culminate in the direct conflict between the Antichrist and Jesus Christ.

"Wherever the corpse is, there the vultures will gather." (St. Matthew 24:28)

As smoke shows us where the fire is, so persecution shows us where the Church is. When looking for the Church, we can look for the vultures. We can look for per se persecution, i.e. persecution directed not just against individuals, but against an institution on account of the identity of that institution. Protestantism itself has no institution. There are many different Protestant institutions, but there is no visible Protestant Church. Christians (whether Protestant, Catholic, or Orthodox) are united by our allegiance to Christ. But Protestantism as such has unity only in one way, in shared opposition to that from which it came. Lewis says something similar in his book The Great Divorce about the unity of "grey town", which has no intrinsic unity, but only parasitic unity, for its unity is the unity of shared opposition to something else.

In the US there is some general bias against what is characterized as anti-intellectual fundamentalism and Bible-belt 'moral majority' types, as well as a kind of general disdain for the superficiality and sentimentalism of certain aspects of Evangelical culture. Certain public figures in these traditions are routinely ridiculed (e.g. Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson). But there are no anti-Presbyterian rallies, or anti-Lutheran riots, or anti-Baptist protests, anti-Evangelical rampages etc. There is no vitriol and hatred directed against the "Emergent Church" as such.

By contrast, there is a palpable hatred for the Catholic Church that is nothing less than diabolic. Before becoming Catholic, I was mostly unaware of it. No one in the secular world really goes on the attack again Pentecostalism, or Presbyterianism, or Anglicanism, or even Orthodoxy, at least not as such. The bulls eye is on the Catholic Church. See Philip Jenkins's book The New Anti-Catholicism: The Last Acceptable Prejudice.

Secular messianism is religious in its zeal for the religion of man, but it is no less 'religious' in its opposition to the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church, in which the "way of life" is upheld and defended, and abortion and artificial contraception and divorce are forbidden. The religion of man chafes at any restriction on man's three primary [disordered] desires: the lust of the flesh [sexual desire], the lust of the eyes, [greed], and the pride of life [being his own god]. (1 John 2:16; cf. CCC 377) This "triple concupiscence" is in direct opposition to the "evangelical counsels" included in Catholic religious vows: chastity, poverty and obedience. (CCC 915, 944, 2053)

What does the opposition between the secular messianism of the "City of Man" and the heaven-oriented devotion of the "City of God" look like? Here's a glimpse from a recent event in Argentina:

H/T TBC

When this persecution comes here, how will we respond? Undoubtedly some Catholics will break ranks; the greatest resentment and hatred of the Church comes from such. But how will Protestants respond to this persecution? Persecution has a way of helping us see things more clearly, clarifying where the lines are, and where we stand in relation to those lines. I hope and pray that the Protestant response to the coming persecution is not one of remaining at a distance, but rather, standing together with Catholics in faith and prayer and honoring Christ.

Church Made-To-Order

Someone recently asked Scot McKnight why he is still an Evangelical and not Catholic or Orthodox. He posted his reply, titled "Why I am not a Catholic or Eastern Orthodox". He offers seven reasons, which I discuss below. His words are italicized.

Here is his first reason: [UPDATE:: He doesn't intend this first point as a reason not to be Catholic.]

First, I’ve never been tempted to become either Catholic or Eastern Orthodox. Never.

Whether or not one should become Catholic does not depend on whether one has been "tempted" to become Catholic, but rather on whether the Catholic Church is the Church Christ founded. Scot's first reason for not becoming Catholic seems to suggest a form of ecclesial consumerism that makes the question "Why haven't you become Catholic?" equivalent to "Why haven't you tried Häagen-Dazs ice cream?" Remaining in schism from the Church that Christ founded is not justified by pointing out that one hasn't been "tempted" to be reconciled with her. So his first reason for not becoming Catholic is not a good reason.

His second reason involves four distinct points which I consider individually.

But I think the RCC and EO render authority in the ecclesia instead of in Scripture and in Spirit to make Scripture clear.

One of the ideas implicit in Scot's statement here is that we must choose between Church as authority and Scripture as authority, and between Church as interpreter of Scripture and Spirit as interpreter of Scripture. This suggests a form of monocausalism that presents us with false dilemmas, and an ecclesial docetism that separates the Spirit from the Church. This monocausalism does not seem to conceive the possibility of Scripture and Church as both having authority, in different respects. And this ecclesial docetism does not recognize that the Spirit works *through* the Church's magisterium to make Scripture clear, as the Spirit worked through Philip the deacon to make Scripture clear to the Ethiopian eunuch (Acts 8). Implicit in Scot's comment here is the notion that the Spirit 'floats free' of matter, that is, operates apart from matter, and thus does not come to us principally through the Church and through her sacraments. This is the anti-sacramental implication of montanistic gnosticism.

Now here’s my point: both the RCC and the EO have captured the Spirit in the Church so that Church too often has become Authority.

I'm not sure what it means for the Church to "become Authority", since the Church is the Body of Christ, and "Authority" is a quality had by a being, not a thing in its own right. But here too, Scot treats the Catholic Church as somehow restricting the Spirit. (That's what he means, I take it, by "captured the Spirit".) The Catholic Church does not claim to have captured or restricted the Spirit. Catholics recognize that the Spirit does what He pleases, being God. But the Catholic Church believes and teaches that Christ gave His disciples the Spirit as a gift, and promised that His Spirit would work *through the Church*, particularly through her sacraments. Since the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Christ, and since the Church is the Body of Christ, we should therefore expect to find the Spirit in the Church, expect to receive the Spirit through the Church, and expect the Spirit to work through the Church. Nor does the Catholic Church believe that she became authority; the Catholic Church believes that the incarnate Christ Himself gave authority to her when He gave authority to the Apostles (including the keys of the kingdom to Peter -- cf. Matthew 16:19), and the Apostles subsequently transmitted this authority to their episcopal successors in an unbroken sacramental succession.

So far as the church partakes in that Spirit, it has an authoritative message; so far as it doesn’t, it loses its authority.

According to Scot's position, apparently, it is up to each man, woman and child to decide when and if and to what degree the Church is 'partaking in the Spirit', such that if anyone feels that the Church is not sufficiently partaking of the Spirit, he can dismiss her teaching as non-authoritative. Again, this is montanistic gnosticism. This montanistic gnosticism makes schism seem justified, since according to this position the Spirit floats free from matter, and therefore this position presumes that the Spirit is fully available to us apart from the institution and hierarchy of the Church. Every heresy in the history of the Church could have been self-justified in this way, since the heretics could have simply said, "Well, in this case, it seems to us that the Church is not sufficiently partaking of the Spirit, and therefore her condemnation of our position is not authoritative. In fact, we have the fullness of the Spirit, and so we now declare that we are the Church." This notion separates the Spirit of Christ from the Body of Christ, and in this way falls into ecclesial docetism.

RCCs and EOs talk about Church; Protestants talk about Scripture. It is their emphasis that I like ..."

The Catholic Church claims to be the Church that Christ founded. The question "Why are you still an Evangelical and not a Catholic?" is not the sort of question to which 'like' has any place in a reply. Such a reply suggests a failure to understand what the Catholic Church claims about herself, for the same reason that "dislike Him" is not a fourth option in the Lord, Liar, Lunatic trilemma. The question is simply not about us, our likes and dislikes; it is about the identity of this 2000 year-old institution claiming to be the Church that Christ founded. Schism is not justified by likes or dislikes, let alone liking or disliking an "emphasis". Again, this seems to be more evidence of ecclesial consumerism that itself reveals no awareness of the fundamental difference between the Catholic conception of the Church as the institution Christ founded and the Evangelical conception of the Church as a religious activity or phenomenon that can be made-to-order to suit our personal likes and dislikes, itching our ears and gratifying our other senses as well. (Scot is a signer of the Evangelical Manifesto, which I reviewed here.) Scot is treating the Catholic Church as if she is just one more option-of-choice among the denominational smorgasbord our many schisms have now spread before us religious consumers. He is thus viewing the Catholic Church through Evangelical lenses, as if there is no such thing as the Catholic Church. But that's simply to fail to see the Catholic Church. In order to see the Catholic Church, one has to step out [at least mentally] from the Evangelical paradigm. So his second reason is in that respect question-begging; it assumes the truth of Evangelicalism.

His third reason is this:

for each of these communions [RC & EO] the Tradition becomes massively authoritative and, in my view, each of these communions has become un-reformable.

'Massive' in itself is not a flaw. Scot would need to show us the standard by which to measure how authoritative Tradition should be, and then show how in the Catholic Church, Tradition goes beyond that standard. He hasn't done that here; he has simply asserted that Tradition has "massive" authority, and then assumed that this is a fault. His position also implicitly assumes but does not substantiate the notion that schism is justified if the Church is "un-reformable". That the Church needs so much reform as to justify being in schism from her is also something he assumes but does not support.

They read the Bible through Tradition and I believe in reading the Bible with Tradition.

Ironically, part of the Tradition is to read the Bible *through* Tradition. Reading the Bible "with Tradition" is not part of the Tradition.

time proves that some of what we all know today to be interpretive truth can be wrong in a century. Look at the Church’s backpedaling today on Galileo.

Surely Scot knows that the Catholic Church believes and teaches that infallibility does not apply to everything the Catholic Church does, including her handling of the Galileo case. Infallibility has to do with the Church's dogmas, and these dogmas have to do with faith and morals. But again, Scot does not show how the Church's fallibility in other areas justifies being in schism from her.

His fourth reason is this:

Fourth, I believe in the guidance of the Spirit in the Church, both in theological articulation (Nicea, for example) and in revival (the Reformation, for example).

Catholics also believe that the Spirit guides the Church into all truth. But we don't separate Spirit from matter; we treat the Church herself as a sacrament, where matter and Spirit are joined together. Scot apparently does not do that; he seems to treat the Spirit as free-floating apart from matter. He follows the Council of Nicea, but apparently rejects the Council of Trent. When you separate Spirit from matter, "what the Spirit is doing" amounts to whatever the burning in your bosom tells you the Spirit is doing, and then similarly "the Church" amounts to whoever agrees (or mostly agrees) with you and your interpretation of Scripture and with what you think are the minimal essentials of the faith. That is the unavoidable implication of montanistic gnosticism.

The minute, however, one begins to think that a given moment in the Church or its articulation was timeless truth rather than truthful timeliness one falls prey to elevating Tradition too high.

Too high according to what standard? Without a standard, this charge is groundless. I can't help but wonder if he thinks his very claim here is a "timeless truth" or only a "temporary truth" [as if there could be such a thing]. If it is not a timeless truth, then perhaps it is time to put such dogmatic skepticism behind us, so that we can recover the dogmas of the faith.

I check interpretation against these; but that does not mean I don’t think fresh light emerges or that something could be improved or modified.

The Catholic Church agrees. The Catholic Church rejects two opposite errors. One error is the notion that there is no development of doctrine, no increase in understanding, and no leading into greater truth by the Spirit. The other error is the notion that nothing at all has been irrevocably established as true, and that everything is open to future rejection and falsification. Both of those errors involve an implicit rejection of the Holy Spirit's continuing activity in leading the Church into all truth. Both errors are therefore forms of ecclesial deism. Scott wants present openness to the Spirit, but in rejecting "timeless truths" he implies that the Spirit hasn't gotten us any closer to truth than we were 2,000 years ago, since we don't know anything for sure now, not even that we have gotten closer to truth. But if over the last 2,000 years the Spirit hasn't gotten us any closer to the truth, then why should we believe that the Spirit is suddenly going to start doing something now? The two errors are in this way related, because they are both a manifestation of ecclesial deism.

His fifth reason is this:

Fifth, what this means — if you are still with me — is that I believe in ongoing discernment of what the Spirit is saying to the Church, and I believe this discernment is a function of church leaders and churches in communion with one another. Discernment for the day is different than infallible teaching for all time. Therein lies a major difference.

The Catholic Church also believes in discerning what the Spirit is saying to the Church, so that's not a point of disagreement between Scot and the Catholic Church. The Catholic Church also believes that this discernment [of what the Spirit is saying to the Church] is a function of church leaders and churches in communion with one another. So that's not a point of disagreement between Scott and the Catholic Church. And Catholics can agree as well that "discernment for the day" is different than infallible teaching for all time. But Scot has not shown that the two are mutually exclusive. Does he think that "discernment for the day" is incompatible with "infallible teaching for all time"? If so, why? If, for example, we know infallibly for all time that Christ is one Person with two natures, does that prevent "discernment for the day"? If so, then how so? But if not, then Scot has presented us with a false dilemma, namely, that we must choose between "infallible teaching for all time" and "discernment for the day".

His sixth reason is this:

neither communion [Catholic and Orthodox], regardless of what it says in theology or in catechesis, preaches the new birth clearly enough nor does either institutionalize the need for personal decision enough

That may very well be true, but that in itself does not show that remaining in schism from the Church that Christ founded is justified when the Church doesn't preach the new birth clearly enough or institutionalize the need for personal decision enough.

Once a month I get a letter from someone who asks me to talk them out of converting to Rome or to Constantinople (et al), and one thing I say to each of them is this: In three generations it is quite likely that your great grandchildren will be “in” the Church but will not experience the new birth.

What is yet to be shown is that remaining in schism is justified because of what is "quite likely" to happen to one's great-grandchildren. Scot's reason here entails that not being in schism is not part of the faith, because his position treats teaching one's children (performatively at least) that being in schism from the Church Christ founded is perfectly fine, so long as you think the Church isn't sufficiently following the Spirit. Scot's reason here thus performatively removes from the faith the prohibition against schism. It denies the unam [μίαν] in that line of the Creed that reads, "one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church". The unity of the Church is part of the faith. Therefore we cannot sacrifice the unity of the Church and at the same time hold on to the faith. If we sacrifice the faith by denying any part of the Creed, then we don't have to wait three generations to see our great-grandchildren deprived of faith; we ourselves have already sacrificed it.

Furthermore, how Scot calculates the likelihood that great-grandchildren of Catholics will not "experience the new birth", and determines that this likelihood is greater than the likelihood that the great-grandchildren of emergentists (a movement which Scott supports) will even know anything about Christianity, he does not say or show. He just asserts. But since Scot is an Anabaptist, I wonder whether he has already denied that line of the Creed that says "one baptism for the forgiveness of sins". If not, then he will recognize that Catholic babies "experience the new birth" when they are baptized. I don't see any reason why we should think that in three generations Catholics won't be baptizing their children, when Catholics have been doing this since the first century. The "Emergent Church" has been around for about ten years. The Catholic Church has been around for 2,000 years; somebody has been keeping the faith.

His seventh reason is this:

Seventh: I’m unapologetically an evangelical Protestant because I think this is a more faithful shaping of the doctrines of the Bible.

Scot is essentially saying here that he is a Protestant because he believes in sola scriptura, and thus that he is his own highest interpretive authority, since his interpretation of Scripture has more authority than that of the magisterium of the Catholic Church. What is missing here is a defense of sola scriptura and a refutation of the Catholic case against sola scriptura. Otherwise, Scot is merely describing his own position, not showing why his position is true and that of the Catholic Church is false.

Finally, he writes this:

Are there other reasons? Of course … like assurance of salvation, the worrisome compulsion to attend mass, women in ministry, like the significance of lay giftedness, less (not more) authority in the local pastor and more authority in the Spirit, justification by faith, hierarchical power structures that create endless red tape, too much Mary, and I could go on.

It sounds like he thinks of Christianity as a made-to-order religion where we get to order it up just exactly to our own liking. Do you want assurance? How much assurance do you want? Ok, here's a denomination that will offer you just what you want, as much assurance as you possibly want. Tired of the obligation to go to mass? Take a look at this attractive alternative. It is a no-guilt Church; you are free to come when you want, and stay home when you feel otherwise. In fact, we'll meet in the evenings in a bar if that's what you'd like. Are you a woman and feeling excluded from pastoral roles? We have just the solution for you. Here's an array of denominations that offer you the full range of ministerial opportunities to fulfill your deepest ministerial aspirations. That ecclesial consumerism, however, turns things exactly upside-down, creating Church in our image, rather than conforming ourselves to the Church that Christ founded, and in doing so conforming to the image of Christ. In that post (on ecclesial consumerism) I examined the worship advertisements in the St. Louis newspaper, and drew the following conclusion:

One thing that clearly stands out is that these religious organizations are trying to fill niches in demand. Through a kind of free market process, they are reflections of what people want. Just as we can get a personalized custom-made teddy bear at the local mall, we can get a religious experience on Sunday morning that is custom-made to fit our particular religious appetites, preferences, interpretations, expectations, beliefs, etc. We can worship in an organization that is made in our own image, and in that way we can worship a god of our own making.

Earlier this year I wrote, "Unity is achieved not when we all make 'Church' in our own image (i.e. in the image of our own interpretation), but when we all conform to her image." And elsewhere, "Unity as one of the four marks of the Church ("one, holy, catholic and apostolic") and as the most intimate expression of the desire of our Savior's sacred heart revealed in St. John 17, requires being incorporated into something greater than a structure made in our own image, or the image of our own interpretation." In order to achieve this unity, we have to break out of ecclesial consumerism, and the montanistic gnosticism and ecclesial docetism that underlie it.

Unity by humility

Saint Thérèse de Lisieux
(January 2, 1873 – September 30, 1897)

Today is the feast day of Saint Thérèse de Lisieux. She is known as the "Little Flower of Jesus", and she proposes for us the "Little Way" of following Jesus with great love in the simple things of daily life. She is also a Doctor of the Church, even though she had no formal theological training. She excelled greatly in love of God, and humility before God. Her heart is reflected in these Gospel passages:

At that time the disciples came to Jesus and said, "Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" And He called a child to Himself and set him before them, and said, "Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. "Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. (St. Matthew 18:1-4)

"Permit the children to come to Me; do not hinder them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." (Mark 10:14)

Too often dialogue between Christians of different traditions is characterized by pride and posturing and an attempt to save face, rather than a humble and open mutual pursuit of the truth. If we wish to pursue unity, we must then clothe ourselves in true humility. St. Thérèse is a beautiful example for us. Here are some selections from her writing:

"I have always wanted to become a saint. Unfortunately when I have compared myself with the saints, I have always found that there is the same difference between the saints and me as there is between a mountain whose summit is lost in the clouds and a humble grain of sand trodden underfoot by passers-by. Instead of being discouraged, I told myself: God would not make me wish for something impossible and so, in spite of my littleness, I can aim at being a saint. It is impossible for me to grow bigger, so I put up with myself as I am, with all my countless faults. But I will look for some means of going to heaven by a little way which is very short and very straight, a little way that is quite new."

"We live in an age of inventions. We need no longer climb laboriously up flights of stairs; in well-to-do houses there are lifts. And I was determined to find a lift to carry me to Jesus, for I was far too small to climb the steep stairs of perfection. So I sought in holy Scripture some idea of what this life I wanted would be, and I read these words: "Whosoever is a little one, come to me." It is your arms, Jesus, that are the lift to carry me to heaven. And so there is no need for me to grow up: I must stay little and become less and less."

"I feel in me the vocation of the Priest. I have the vocation of the Apostle. Martyrdom was the dream of my youth and this dream has grown with me. Considering the mystical body of the Church, I desired to see myself in them all. Charity gave me the key to my vocation. I understood that the Church had a Heart and that this Heart was burning with love. I understood that Love comprised all vocations, that Love was everything, that it embraced all times and places...in a word, that it was eternal! Then in the excess of my delirious joy, I cried out: O Jesus, my Love...my vocation, at last I have found it...My vocation is Love!"

Lord Jesus, help us to become like children in humility and trust and love. Enlarge our hearts to burn with love for You, and for each other for Your sake, as St. Thérèse loved. Let your great love grow in us, such that we cannot rest content with our divisions. Infuse all our efforts to bring unity with this child-like love and humility and trust in You. St. Thérèse, pray for us, that we may all be united as one family, with the same child-like spirit of love and humility that you showed to us. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.