This continues a series of posts (which will be filed under Belief), in which I attempt to address evangelical misunderstandings of Catholic doctrine, and to explain what the Catholic Church really believes. In the spirit of St. Justin, I "have come, not to flatter you by this writing, nor please you by our address, but to beg that you pass judgment, after an accurate and searching investigation," and that you would not be influenced by "evil rumours which have long been prevalent" (First Apology, II).

The Catholic doctrines on Mary have not been very large stumbling blocks in my conversion; in fact, Mary was one of the first of my stumbling blocks to crumble. Once the importance of Mary's role as Mother of God is firmly grasped, her Perpetual Virginity, Immaculate Conception, and Assumption into heaven follow fairly easily. I spent quite a bit of space on the Perpetual Virginity, mainly because I hear more objections to that particular doctrine than to the others. I rarely hear objections to Mary's Immaculate Conception and her Assumption so I have decided to combine these final two Marian dogmata into one essay.

The thing to keep in mind when discussing any particular Christian doctrine is that Christian doctrine in general has as its end a fuller knowledge of and closer relationship to Jesus Christ, God made man, fully human and fully divine yet one Person, namely the second Person of the Holy Trinity, the eternal Son of God. Therefore, Catholic beliefs about Mary can only be fully understood in light of what the Catholic Church believes about Jesus. "What the Catholic faith believes about Mary is based on what it believes about Christ, and what it teaches about Mary illumines in turn its faith in Christ" (Catechism, 487).

Part 3. Mary Immaculate

In preparation for her role as Mother of God, God preserved Mary from the stain of original sin from the moment of her conception. This belief is called the Immaculate Conception, but should not be confused with the conception of Christ by the Holy Spirit, and does not suggest that Mary was conceived by any extraordinary means or that she has any sort of divine nature. Mary had two very human parents; tradition tells us that they were called Joachim and Anna. It is doubtful that they had any idea that their daughter had been conceived free from sin.

Catholics believe that the seeds of the Immaculate Conception were given by the Apostles to the Church in the initial "deposit of faith" (in the words of the first Vatican Council), but became more fully understood over the course of the centuries. This is the same manner in which the nature of Christ and the nature of the Trinity were better understood over time and were only officially clarified in the fourth and fifth centuries. Pope Pius IX traces in detail the development of the Immaculate Conception in his apostolic constitution Ineffabilis Deus (I leave it to the reader who is interested to read those details for himself). In that document, given December 8, 1854, Pius IX carefully spelled out and promulgated as dogma Mary's Immaculate Conception. He wrote:

We declare, pronounce, and define that the doctrine which holds that the most Blessed Virgin Mary, in the first instance of her conception, by a singular grace and privilege granted by Almighty God, in view of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Savior of the human race, was preserved free from all stain of original sin, is a doctrine revealed by God and therefore to be believed firmly and constantly by all the faithful.

The key phrase to note is: "by a singular grace and privilege granted by Almighty God, in view of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Savior of the human race." It is only because of her role in bringing the God-man into the world that God preserved his Mother from original sin.

That Mary was conceived without sin does not imply that she was not in need of a Savior. Had she not needed a Savior, God would not have had to intervene to preserve her from sin. Like any creature, Mary needed salvation; she was simply saved in advance, so to speak.

To better understand the Immaculate Conception, I like to think in terms of the Ark of the Covenant. This analogy is merely an aid, and certainly not dogma, so if the analogy helps the reader's understanding, then fine; if not, just forget it—my feelings will not be hurt.

At any rate, Exodus 25 describes the construction of the Ark and the other items to be placed in the Tabernacle's sanctuary. However, God makes it clear to Moses that the Ark has a very special role:

And there I will meet with thee, and I will commune with thee from above the mercy seat, from between the two cherubims which are upon the ark of the testimony, of all things which I will give thee in commandment unto the children of Israel (Ex. 25:22).

Thus the Ark was the place where the presence of God would reside among the Israelites. Moreover, he would meet them and commune with them from the Ark.

But before God's presence came into the Tabernacle and settled on the Ark, the Ark and all the other objects were consecrated; they were anointed with oil to set them apart for a very specific religious purpose (Ex. 30:23–29). Furthermore, God commanded that a special perfume be made and placed in front of the Ark to further set it apart from the other objects That perfume was to be used for no other purpose (Ex. 30:34–38).

In the person of Jesus Christ, God met the world in the womb of his mother Mary; she is truly the Ark of the New Covenant (cf. Rev. 11:19–12:5). In the same way that the objects of the Tabernacle were anointed with oil, so all God's faithful are anointed with his grace and set apart for a specific purpose. But the Ark was set apart in a very special way with a perfume that was not to be duplicated. So is the New Ark anointed with a "singular grace and privilege," conceived without sin that she might bring Emmanuel into the world.

Part 4. Making Assumptions

In November of 1950, Pope Pius XII wrote (from the editorial first-person plural perspective) that

we pronounce, declare, and define it to be a divinely revealed dogma: that the Immaculate Mother of God, the ever Virgin Mary, having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory (Munificentissimus Deus, n. 44).

In declaring that Mary was taken into heaven at the end of her earthly life, Pius XII was not inventing a new doctrine—popes do not have the authority to do that. He was, rather, confirming that a centuries-old belief was, in fact, true. The Assumption of Mary into heaven can be found in at least two early manuscripts dating from the second and third centuries, The Passing of Mary and The Book of John Concerning the Falling Asleep of Mary. These writings, not having been recognized as doctrinally infallible by the Church when she formed the New Testament canon, carry no doctrinally authoritative force; however, they do serve as historical witness to the antiquity of belief in the Assumption.

Believing that Mary was taken body and soul into heaven at the end of her earthly life should not be too great a leap of faith. We do, after all, read about the taking to heaven of at least two Old Testament characters, Methuselah's father Enoch (Gen. 5:22) and the prophet Elijah (2 Kings 2:11). The taking of persons to heaven is nothing new for God so it should not be surprising that ancient Christians believed that God took his own mother to heaven.

That the Assumption is not a belief that is found explicitly in Scripture and was not defined until the 1950s is a typical objection. However, assumptions of other persons in general have precedent in Scripture (as noted above) and Mary's Assumption in no way violates what we read in Scripture. We can also note that, similarly, there is no explicit definition of the Trinity in Scripture though it is the foundation of Christian belief and was not clarified in writing for a few hundred years.

In support of his defining the Assumption as dogma, Pius XII did point out a most important relation to Scripture. He points out that Jesus, in taking his mother to heaven, was simply observing, "in the most perfect way, the divine commandment by which children are ordered to honor their parents" (Munificentissimus Deus, n. 35). In assuming his mother into heaven, Jesus had honored his Father and mother.

Part 5. Some Elementary Remarks on Papal Infallibility

In an earlier post, I described the Catholic doctrine of Papal Infallibility. These final two Marian dogmata I have discussed are the only two instances of the exercise of papal infallibility since that dogma was defined by the first Vatican Council. There are three very important points to note.

First, neither Pius IX nor Pius XII were inventing new doctrines. Both of them go to great length in their respective documents to detail the historical roots of both doctrines.

Second, they did not decide to define these dogma out of the blue. In both cases, the Popes had received petitions from the bishops and the faithful "begging and urging the Apostolic See that [these truths] be solemnly defined" (Pius XII, Munificentissimus Deus, n 8).

Third, they did not define these dogma unilaterally; they consulted the bishops and the faithful throughout the world. Pius IX "established a special congregation of our venerable brethren, the cardinals of the holy Roman Church, illustrious for their piety, wisdom, and knowledge of the sacred scriptures" in order to determine the authenticity of the Immaculate Conception (Ineffabilius Deus, "Preparation for the Definition"). Likewise, Pius XII notes that "Many outstanding theologians eagerly and zealously carried out investigations on [the Assumption] either privately or in public ecclesiastical institutions" (Munificentissimus Deus, n. 8).

Examples abound of unreasonable atheism. Take, for instance, the upcoming denial of service attack against God. (It should be interesting to see how that pans out.) It turns out, however, that Michael Ruse may be proof that there are atheists with at least half a brain.

Often times I wonder why I should be so interested in endlessly asking questions about right belief, right actions, right worship—the biggies—and then writing about them at length knowing that I only have about three readers. I am afraid that sometimes I lose sight of the point of searching for the answers to these questions, and on this blog I may never have made the point very clear. Why should I worry about believing the right things anyway, when all I really need to do is "accept Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior?" After all, there are those who will tell you that Christianity "isn't about religion, it's about a relationship," implying that doctrine, morality, and ritual are not quite as important as churches have really made them over the years; therefore, we should worry less about what exactly to believe, how to live, and how to worship, and focus more on developing our personal relationship with Jesus. Those persons are perhaps half right. The point of Christianity is to encounter a living God through a living person, our Lord Jesus Christ. However, the religion v. relationship people are also half wrong. Christianity is about a relationship, but also about religion. In fact, we could properly turn the phrase on its head and say that the religion is about the relationship. I mean that doctrine, morality, and ritual may not be ends in themselves, but certainly serve as means to our fully encountering God.

To have a relationship with someone, we must get to know them; it is stupid to go round saying we have a relationship with a perfect stranger. When dealing with other humans, there are things that we can know about them simply through observation: that a man is an accountant, is married, and drives a Volvo. But there are things about this married accountant who drives a Swedish car that we can know only if he reveals those things to us: his political or religious views, his goals, whether he is happy or sad or indifferent. Likewise, there are some things that we can know about God simply through human reason, if our reason remains open to the truth and is honest in the process. For example, in studying the universe or asking why there is anything at all, our reasoning can point us in the direction of a Creator. Taking our reasoning a step further we may conclude that this Creator has made intelligent decisions in designing his creation and therefore must be some sort of a personal entity with a creative will. We may even be able to reason out the fact that the Creator cares about what he has created, but even then we are still very far away from an understanding of the Holy Trinity. To truly know God requires that he reveal something of himself to us. We receive this divine revelation in the form of religious doctrine, and it is crucial that we know which doctrines are right and those which are wrong. Wrong doctrine may tell us that there is one god but that there are many different ways to get to him and that all are equally valid. On the other hand, correct doctrine tells us what God is really like: that he is one God but three distinct Persons; that the second of those Persons was born of a virgin and became man, was crucified, died, and was buried, and that no man comes to the first Person except through him; and that after the second Person returned to heaven, he and the first Person sent the third Person as our Counselor and Paraclete. The doctrine of the Holy Trinity is not something at which we can arrive by human reason; to know anything about the Trinity requires revelation. That revelation is passed on to those of us who were not eyewitnesses in the form of doctrine. Knowing right doctrine is crucial for our getting to know the One who created us.

Morality, practically speaking, is the way in which we foster our relationship to God. In our human relationships, we must be careful not to offend or drive away the person we are trying to get to know. For example, I could tell my wife that, no, I will not clean the dishes, vacuum, or change diapers because these things are women's work and that she should have to do these things in addition to working a full-time job outside the home. This, however, will not endear me to my wife. To truly deepen our relationship, I should help with the dishes, etc. In the same way, I should make every effort to not separate myself from God by immoral behavior. If I say to God, "I will cheat on my wife, on my taxes, and at cards," then I am driving a wedge between myself and my Creator. If I then go and do those things, the wedge gets driven deeper.*

The other side of morality involves fulfilling God's purpose for humanity. We were designed to live a life of love, and so we must make an effort to live that life of love. Contrary to what Martin Luther believed, God is not interested in simply ignoring our sins by covering the dung heap with a layer of snow; instead he actually wants to set us free from our sins and make us into a truly holy, loving people. Quite obviously we cannot live this life of love on our own but require God's help to do so. Fortunately, he offers that help freely, but we still must cooperate with his grace. Making an attempt to follow God's moral law, at the same time realizing it is God who helps us make the attempt, is what we do to cooperate with God's grace and to begin to live the life to which we are called. And to live that life we must know what that life entails; in other words, we have a desperate need to know the morality that God desires for us.

I have a hunch that the folks who go around repeating that "It's not about religion, it's about a relationship" are really talking about ritual more than doctrine or morality. The implication is that holding on to ancient ritual is not significant to the Christian life; I suppose they want to approach Jesus on their own terms. What they really mean to say is, "We don't like your ritual, we want to have our own." And so rather than participate in the traditional ritual given to us by the Apostles, their preferred ritual may involve singing about God for half an hour and then listening to a man talk about God for another half-hour. The more elaborate rituals like Communion may disappear altogether or, if not completely discarded, only pulled off the shelf once every three months or so. But without the ritual given to us by God, the relationship is awfully one-sided. To truly get to know someone requires a conversation, and without ritual we are the only ones doing the talking. In ritual, God talks back, both in Word and Sacrament.†

The earliest Christians met for worship both at the synagogue and then daily in their homes for the prayers and the breaking of bread. By the end of the first century, these two modes of worship were combined into a single gathering, and so for 1,500 years Christian worship consisted of what are now called the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. In the liturgy of the Word, the Scriptures are unfolded over the course of a year so that we hear God's entire message and not only the pastor's five favorite passages Sunday after Sunday. We even hear those things we may not necessarily want to hear, say for instance Matthew 25:31–46. The Scriptures are read to the people and then a minister, in the words of St. Justin, "verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things." In the liturgy of the Eucharist, the talking is over and the relationship becomes intimate. In Holy Communion we receive the precious Body and Blood of the living Christ which is real food and real drink. This is physical intimacy; it is not called the Marriage Supper of the Lamb simply because it is a cute phrase. In the Eucharist we renew the covenant of marriage that Christ has made with his Church. And as we receive Communion, we are given the grace to remain in Christ, and, in turn, Christ promised to remain in us and that he would raise us up at the last day (read for yourself John 6:53–68).

In the other sacraments as well God approaches us in extraordinary ways through simple physical signs. In Baptism we are buried with Christ and are raised again to new life; we are truly born again of water and spirit. In the laying on of hands in Confirmation we are sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit. In Ordination, clergy are given special graces with which they carry out their ministry. In Marriage, man and woman become a living sign of Christ's relationship to his Church and instruments of grace for one another. In the Anointing of the Sick there is spiritual and sometimes physical healing, and sins are forgiven. In Confession, we are restored to a right relationship with God and his Church.

Pitting religion against relationship sets up a false dichotomy; in reality the two go hand in hand. Asking if we can do without one or the other is like asking which blade in the scissors is the most important. In order for religion to matter it has to support our relationship to God. If we want to know God personally, we had better know something about his religion. Correct doctrine tells us what we should know about God. When we live out his morality nothing stands in our way of moving closer to God and he begins to fulfill his divine purpose for us. In ritual God mysteriously draws us deeper into his divine life. And sharing in the life of the Holy Trinity is the point of it all.

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* This analogy can only be carried to a certain point, however, because we can do nothing of our own power to earn God's favor; salvation is his free gift to us and he never withdraws his grace from us though we may reject it. Treating my wife badly will drive her away from me. Living a life of sin, I drive myself away from God.

† This is not to say that God does not speak to us in ways outside of ritual, but that is beside the point.

This continues a series of posts (which will be filed under Belief), in which I attempt to address evangelical misunderstandings of Catholic doctrine, and to explain what the Catholic Church really believes. In the spirit of St. Justin, I "have come, not to flatter you by this writing, nor please you by our address, but to beg that you pass judgment, after an accurate and searching investigation," and that you would not be influenced by "evil rumours which have long been prevalent" (First Apology, II).

Part 2. Blessed Mary, Ever Virgin

Belief that Jesus's mother Mary remained a virgin throughout her entire life, even after delivering Our Lord, is a belief which dates back to the inception of Christianity. However, since the Reformation Mary's perpetual virginity has been rejected by most Protestant groups. Why, exactly, Mary's perpetual virginity is rejected is something I have no real explanation for. I have a hunch, though, that the Protestant rejection has to do with both the modern attitude toward sex and the fundamentalist tendency to disbelieve that which is not explicitly defined in the Bible.

Despite the Protestant opposition, the Catholic Church still clings tightly to her belief in the perpetual virginity. She believes that the Blessed Virgin Mary freely and seriously accepted her role as the Mother of God, declaring herself to be the "handmaid of the Lord."[1] As the Lord's handmaid, Mary remained a virgin for her entire life in order to make an "undivided gift of herself to God's will."[2] Even the early reformers were not quick to dismiss Mary's virginity; Luther, Calvin and Zwingli all accepted it as divine revelation. And I'm not entirely sure that disbelief in the perpetual virginity was very quick to catch on even after the Reformation. John Wesley, probably the first real evangelical, wrote the following over 200 years after Luther tacked his 99 theses on the door at Wittenburg:

I believe that he [Jesus] was made man . . . being conceived by the singular operation of the Holy Ghost and born of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who, as well after as she brought him forth, continued a pure and unspotted virgin.[3]

Wesley and the reformers were not simply holding on to a dogma invented by the Church in the middle ages; even the earliest Christians believed in the perpetual virginity. The doctrine was widespread enough by A.D. 150, a little more than 50 years after St. John wrote down his Revelation, that there appeared a story about Mary's virginity which scholars these days call the Protoevangelium of James. The Protoevangelium, like the gospels, insists that Mary is a virgin when she conceives, but then goes on to embellish a few details. The story suggests that Mary was dedicated by her parents for lifelong service to the Lord and spent her early years in the temple, like Samuel of the Old Testament.[4] Because of laws for ritual cleanness, the temple priests could not have a menstruating woman hanging around so, when she turned 12, Mary was given to Joseph so that he could protect "the virgin of the Lord."[5] The priests expected Joseph to respect her virginity so they are furious when they find out she is with child.[6] Regarding Mary's continuing virginity the story describes, in somewhat indelicate language, an examination of Mary by a midwife and her companion. They verify that Mary is still very much a virgin even after having given birth.[7] Though the Protoevangelium is not scripture and is probably not an historical account of the lives of Mary and Joseph, it serves as clear evidence that the earliest Christians believed in Mary's lifelong dedication to God as a virgin and were interested in the details of her virginity long before the Middle Ages.

Why, then, would such a long-established belief be rejected by post-Reformation Protestants? I suppose that one reason might be that it sounds odd to our modern and postmodern ears that someone would voluntarily give up sex for life. The modern western world is, after all, saturated with sex. We encounter sex daily both explicitly if we choose, and more often implicitly. Porn is what made the Internet popular and for a time was the number one online activity (now surpassed by gambling). On one of the cable shopping channels one night I happened upon two women selling several models of women's self-pleasuring devices, some of which were quite expensive. Apparently these things are like cars or coffee makers—the more features you add, the higher the price goes. Different colors, shapes, sizes, textures, battery-powered, manual, etc. Thankfully there were no test drives or Ron Popeil-esque demonstrations. In a less explicit way we encounter sex on Viagra and Cialis commercials; these, of course, play on the assumption that not getting it up is the worse possible problem a man could have. In reality, the side effects are probably worse than the benefits.[8] Need I mention HBO, Showtime, Cinemax, soap operas, prime time television, every movie made since 1954, and top 40 radio? Finally, a Tab cola commercial from the 1980s comes to mind (yes, that is Elle MacPherson in the bikini and, yes, she is holding a can of Tab). And I have only mentioned the images of sex that we encounter; nevermind the prevailing moral attitude that any type of sex with anyone is okay because, after all, consent is the sole criterion of the good. With our being constantly bombarded by sexual advertising and the availability of explicit virtual sex and the cultural amorality of sex, it is no wonder that the idea of abstinence seems so foreign.

However, Jesus didn't think giving up sex to be so odd; he himself lived a celibate life and told us that there are those persons who "have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven's sake."[9] Countless monks and nuns throughout the centuries have taken vows of celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Even St. Augustine, who fathered a child out of wedlock and never married the child's mother yet continued in a sexual relationship with her for many years, gave up sex and decided to live a celibate life upon his conversion to Christianity. And St. Paul, the most dramatic convert of any of us, remained celibate and suggested we do the same.[10] Even married persons may abstain for weeks, sometimes months, especially during the first trimester of pregnancy and for a time after childbirth. Given the great numbers of persons who have lived celibate lives and those who abstain for prolonged periods, Our Lord included, it should not be too outrageous to belive that the Mother of God also lived a celibate life, regardless of what the modern culture tells us.

Of course there have always been those persons who deny divine revelation, and today's Protestants are doing nothing new in rejecting the Perpetual Virginity. In the 4th century, around A.D. 383, St. Jerome published a pamphlet "Against Helvidius," answering Helvidius's denial of the perpetual virginity. Those opposed to the Perpetual Virginity typically argue along the same line laid down by Helvidius nearly 1,700 years ago: they posit that the Bible does not explicitly say that Mary remained a virgin and, moreover, the Bible explicitly denies Mary's continuation as a pure, unspotted virgin (to borrow Wesley's words). Helvidius's argument centers around two basic points:

1. Matthew's use of the phrases "before they [Mary and Joseph] came together" and "knew her not till she had brought forth a son" to describe the circumstances of Our Lord's conception forces the conclusion that Joseph eventually "knew" Mary at some later point in time.
2. Phrases such as "brothers of the Lord" and "first-born son" in the Gospels mean that Mary had other sons whom Joseph fathered.

Now, St. Jerome had very little respect for Helvidius, accusing him of "extreme ignorance," "neglect[ing] the whole range of Scripture," "set[ting] on fire the temple of the Lord's body," and "defil[ing] the sanctuary of the Holy Spirit from which you are determined to make a team of four brethren and a heap of sisters come forth."[11] Strong words, indeed. But we cannot accuse Jerome of the ad hominem fallacy and disregard his answer to Helvidius; Jerome answers, at length, all of Helvidius's objections and so we must judge his answers on their own merits and not against his attitude toward Helvidius.

I do not have the space to give all the details of Jerome's arguments—the English translation of his pamphlet is around 10,000 words long—but the reader should feel free to peruse the entire text when he has time. Those content with only the highlights may read on.

About Helvidius's suggestion that "'the Evangelist [Matthew] would never have applied the words, before they came together to persons who were not to come together,'" Jerome writes, "I know not whether to grieve or laugh. Shall I convict him of ignorance, or accuse him of rashness?" Jerome points out that words like before and until do not necessarily suggest absolute times. He gives the example of a man who says, "Before dining in harbour I sailed to Africa." It is unreasonable to assume that this man is now somehow bound to one day dine in harbour. Among the scriptural examples Jerome cites is St. Paul: "If I choose to say, 'the apostle Paul before he went to Spain was put in fetters at Rome . . .' must Paul on being released at once go to Spain . . . ?"[12]

Along those same lines, Jerome points out that the Bible's use of "first-born son" does not require us to believe that more sons were born later; the term simply describes the Jewish legal status of anything "that openeth the womb." Jerome's point is that "Every only begotten son is a first-born son, but not every first-born is an only begotten." Therefore, though Jesus is an only-begotten Son with no subsequent siblings, he is still a first-born. Jerome cites several Old Testament examples, the most dramatic of which is the Angel of Death's killing of the first-born children recorded in Exodus: Were children without siblings exempted? "You must either release the only begotten from the penalty, and in that case you become ridiculous: or, if you allow that they were slain, we gain our point . . . that only begotten sons also are called first-born."[13]

The most frequent argument I have heard from Protestants is another that is put forth by Helvidius: that the scriptures speak of the "brothers" of Jesus and therefore Mary must have borne siblings for Jesus. This obviously, in their view, directly contradicts Mary's perpetual virginity. But Jerome shows that throughout the Bible, the word brother is used in several different ways, not always referring to direct siblings:

1. By nature: "Instances of brethren by nature are Esau and Jacob, the twelve patriarchs, Andrew and Peter, James and John."
2. By race: "As to race, all Jews are called brethren of one another, as in Deuteronomy, 'If thy brother, an Hebrew man, or an Hebrew woman, be sold unto thee, and serve thee six years; then in the seventh year thou shalt let him go free from thee.' And in the same book, 'Thou shalt in anywise set him king over thee, whom the Lord thy God shall choose: one from among thy brethren shalt thou set king over thee; thou mayest not put a foreigner over thee, which is not thy brother.' "
3. By kindred: "Moreover they are called brethren by kindred who are of one family . . . . In Genesis we read, 'And Abram said unto Lot, Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, and between my herdmen and thy herdmen; for we are brethren.'"
4. By love: There "are brethren by affection, and these again fall into two divisions, those of the spiritual and those of the general relationship. I say spiritual because all of us Christians are called brethren . . . . And in another psalm the Saviour says, 'I will declare thy name unto my brethren.'"[14]

With at least four possible readings of the word brothers, Jerome concludes that we must

adopt the previous explanation and understand [the brothers of the Lord] to be called brethren in virtue of the bond of kindred, not of love and sympathy, nor by prerogative of race, nor yet by nature. Just as Lot was called Abraham's brother, and Jacob Laban's, . . . just as Abraham himself had to wife Sarah his sister, for he says, 'She is indeed my sister, on the father's side, not on the mother's,' that is to say, she was the daughter of his brother, not of his sister. Otherwise, what are we to say of Abraham, a just man, taking to wife the daughter of his own father?[15]

By far Jerome's most convincing argument from scripture, it seems to me, is Jesus's gift of his mother to his disciple John from the cross. John's gospel records it this way:

Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son! Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother! And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home.[16]

This passage suggests that Mary was without other sons. If Mary had had other sons, would they not have taken her into their homes rather than leaving her with John?

Scripture is at least ambiguous about whether Jesus had brothers, and in the case of John actually supports the orthodox belief that Mary had no children other than our Lord.

Having argued for Mary's perpetual virginity I must note that the dogma of her continuation as a pure, unspotted virgin (to borrow again from Wesley) is not taught in a vacuum. What the Catholic Church teaches about Mary is based on what it believes about Christ, and what it teaches about Mary illuminates its faith in Christ. Mary's perpetual virginity reflects the singular importance of Jesus of Nazareth who is the Word who dwelt among us, Emmanuel—God with us. If Jesus is truly God in the flesh, then his mother's womb is a terribly special place. St. Jerome called it "the temple of the Lord's body," and "the sanctuary of the Holy Spirit." That Mary remained a virgin for life emphasizes her singularly important role in salvation history, and the singular importance of her Son, the Word made flesh.

To add to Jerome's metaphors, we could think of Mary as the Ark of the New Covenant. In the Old Testament the Ark of the Covenant was where the presence of God rested when Israel was camping out in the desert. In the New Testament Jesus the Christ is the presence of God who lived for nine months inside the Blessed Virgin. But I cannot take credit for the Ark metaphor; one of the apostles beat me to it. St. John, Jesus's beloved disciple who took Mary into his home, wrote the following in his Revelation:

And the temple of God was opened in heaven, and there was seen in his temple the ark of his testament: and there were lightnings, and voices, and thunderings, and an earthquake, and great hail. And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars: And she being with child cried, travailing in birth, and pained to be delivered.[17]

In his vision John saw Mary, the Ark of the New Covenant, ready to deliver our Lord. Also in scripture we read that when Mary visits Elizabeth, Elizabeth recognizes Mary as the Ark and exclaims, "And whence is this to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?"[18] echoing King David's words as the Ark is being returned from the Philistines: "How shall the ark of the LORD come to me?"[19]

The Ark, being the dwelling place of God Almighty, is not something you mess with. Uzzah was struck dead by God for trying to keep the Ark from falling off an ox cart.[20] That being the case, we should be very careful before suggesting that the new Ark served any purpose other than the dwelling place of God in the flesh.

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All scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

Notes

1. Luke 1:38.
2. Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 506.
3. John Wesley, Letter to a Roman Catholic, July 18, 1749, no. 7 (my emphasis).
4. Protoevangelium of James, no. 4; cf. 1 Samuel, chapter 1.
5. Ibid., nos. 8–9; cf. Leviticus 15:19–20.
6. Ibid., no. 15
7. Ibid., nos. 19–20.
8. What I find ironic is the warning about vision problems. My mother never told me that taking a pill is what would make me go blind....
9. Matthew 19:12.
10. 1 Corinthians 7:1–9, esp. vs. 7
11. St. Jerome, Against Helvidius, A.D. 383, no. 18.
12. Ibid., no. 4.
13. Ibid., no. 12.
14. Ibid., nos. 16–17.
15. Ibid., no. 17.
16. Ibid., no. 14.
17. Revelation 11:19–12:2.
18. Luke 1:43.
19. 2 Samuel 6:9.
20. 2 Samuel 6:6–9.

In recent conversations about Catholic doctrine, it has become clear that evangelicals do not object to actual Catholic doctrine, but rather they object to what they misunderstand to be Catholic doctrine. Over the course of the next several posts (which will be filed under Belief), I will attempt to address these misunderstandings, misunderstandings that I myself held at one time, and will do my very best to explain what the Catholic Church really believes. In the spirit of Justin Martyr, I "have come, not to flatter you by this writing, nor please you by our address, but to beg that you pass judgment, after an accurate and searching investigation," and that you would not be influenced by "evil rumours which have long been prevalent" (First Apology, II).

For this post, I had planned to continue my series on the Marian dogmata, but given the recent controversy over the lifting of the excommunication of four schismatic bishops by Benedict XVI, I thought it would be timely to discuss the infamous doctrine of Papal Infallibility. Not only is it timely, but a discussion of infallibility should also be of some aid to our upcoming discussions of Mary, but for now we'll focus on whether or not the Pope can screw up.

Actually, whether the Pope can screw up is not the issue—of course he can screw up. St. Peter, whom Catholics believe to be the first Pope, screwed up big-time at Antioch when he refused to eat with the uncircumcised gentile converts—after having declared at the Council at Jerusalem that circumcision was not required for gentile converts! (cf. Acts 15 and Gal 2). But regardless of his mistakes, all Christians believe that Peter, a total screw-up before Pentecost and at least a partial screw-up after, was infallible at least twice when he wrote letters that made it into the New Testament.¹ The real question is whether it is reasonable that, as some objectors suggest, such infallibility would cease at the death of Peter and the apostles, and that the church throughout the rest of history would be left to figure things out the best they could.

A more recent example of a papal foul-up is Benedict XVI's lifting of the excommunication of four schismatic bishops in March. One of the bishops who was un-excommunicated (not the technical word for it) publicly declared that the slaughter of 6 million Jews at the hands of the Nazis never occurred. Benedict issued a letter to his bishops effectively apologizing for rotten timing. A basic survey course in Western Civilization at one's local community college should provide one with a plethora of much worse papal screw-ups. But, in spite of the innumerable mistakes Popes have made throughout the centuries, the Catholic Church maintains the doctrine of papal infallibility. So, either Catholics are totally blind and stupid, or infallibility must mean something other than that the Pope is a perfect man. I'm betting that 1/6 of the world's population (at last count around 1.1 billion Catholics) isn't totally blind and stupid—right or wrong, they must have a reasonable explanation for what they believe.

The key to the doctrine of infallibility is understanding that it is not the Pope, the man, who is infallible, but rather it is God who is infallible and who protects his church from error. In very simple terms, when a Pope defines a teaching on faith or morals that the whole church should believe, God prevents him from teaching error. Catholics do not believe the Pope to be infallible in matters of discipline, such as lifting excommunications, suggesting what one should give up for Lent, or socializing with gentile converts. Neither do Catholics believe the Pope is impeccable, "impeccable" literally meaning "incapable of sin." The Pope, like all other ordinary human beings, is susceptible to sin. Pope Benedict XVI, acknowledging his susceptibility to sin, goes to confession weekly. Obviously he doesn't consider himself impeccable or infallible in every aspect of his life, and neither does the rest of the Catholic Church. Rather, Catholics believe that God will protect the pastor of His church from teaching error in matters of faith and morals.

Because this series is a discussion of what the Church really teaches, it is important to look at her official statements of doctrine and dogma. So, to find the official position on infallibility we turn to the first Vatican Council. The Council was convened in part "for the uprooting of current errors" (Vatican I, Session 1), which is quite typical of Councils as they normally meet only when doctrinal and disciplinary questions and/or attacks on the faith arise. Among the questions to be answered by the Council was that of infallibility. After much deliberation the Council concluded that

when the Roman Pontiff speaks EX CATHEDRA, that is, when, in the exercise of his office as shepherd and teacher of all Christians, . . . he defines a doctrine concerning faith or morals to be held by the whole Church, he possesses, by the divine assistance promised to him in blessed Peter, that infallibility which the divine Redeemer willed his Church to enjoy in defining doctrine concerning faith or morals (Pastor Aeternus², 4:9).

The Latin phrase ex cathedra is important. Literally it means "from the chair"³ and here refers to the exercise of a bishop's office, in this case the office of the bishop of Rome. By specifying that the Pope is only infallible when speaking ex cathedra, the Council does not extend infallibility to the Pope's personal life nor to his personal theological opinions, only to his definition of doctrines touching faith or morals in the official exercise of his office. Furthermore, it is only by "divine assistance" that the Pope can infallibly define a doctrine. The second Vatican Council gives further clarification:

And this is the infallibility which the Roman Pontiff, the head of the college of bishops, enjoys in virtue of his office, when, as the supreme shepherd and teacher of all the faithful, who confirms his brethren in their faith, by a definitive act he proclaims a doctrine of faith or morals. And therefore his definitions, of themselves, and not from the consent of the Church, are justly styled irreformable, since they are pronounced with the assistance of the Holy Spirit, promised to him in blessed Peter. . . . (Lumen Gentium, 25).

Like Vatican I, Vatican II emphasizes that the infallibility of the Pope is not based on the man himself, but by "virtue of his office" and that his definitions are only proclaimed with the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Both Councils specifically mention that the Holy Spirit's guidance is promised "in blessed Peter," and they base their statements on a passage found in Matthew's gospel in which Jesus institutes his church:

When Jesus came into the coasts of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, saying, Whom do men say that I the Son of man am? And they said, Some say that thou art John the Baptist: some, Elias; and others, Jeremias, or one of the prophets. He saith unto them, But whom say ye that I am? And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God. And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon Barjona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven. And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven (Mat 16:13–19).

Even a cursory reading of this passage suggests that the rock on whom Jesus would build his Church is Peter, and so it would seem that Jesus intended Peter to be the chief of the apostles.⁴ And it seems that the kind of authority Jesus intends for Peter is the same authority that the Vatican Councils attribute to the popes, whom Catholics consider to be Peter's successors—that of a loving brother and a shepherd. Before he is betrayed, Jesus says to Peter, "I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren" (Luke 22:32). Once Peter has converted after denying our Lord, Jesus singles out Peter and gives him the charge to "Feed my lambs. Feed my sheep. Feed my sheep" (John 21:15–17). Drawing on these images, Vatican II describes the Pope as "the supreme shepherd and teacher of all the faithful, who confirms his brethren in their faith."

Applying the image of Peter as chief shepherd and strengthener of his brothers to the bishop of Rome is not unique to Vatican II. From earliest times the Church recognized the bishop of Rome as the successor of Peter and assumed that Peter's capacity as chief shepherd was passed to his successors as well. The authority of the bishop of Rome over the church is evidenced by one of the earliest extant Christian writings, the epistle of St. Clement to the Corinthians in which Clement, then bishop of Rome, basically tells the church at Corinth to straighten up and get with the program. Clement exercised his authority over Corinth even though Corinth was already under the authority of its own local bishop. And, following the New Testament church's example of appealing to Peter and the Council at Jerusalem (Acts 15), the post-apostolic church continued to appeal to his successor in Rome for remedy of doctrinal and disciplinary disputes. (For a detailed analysis of Rome's appellate jurisdiction, I recommend Joseph C. Ayer, Jr., "The Development of the Appellate Jurisdiction of the Roman See," Church History Vol. 57, Supplement: Centennial Issue (1988), pp. 29-42.)

But as I mentioned before, infallibility really isn't about the Pope, but rather about God. Jesus made a promise to Peter to protect His church from the gates of hell, and Jesus keeps his promises (if he doesn't keep his promises then this whole Christianity thing is a sham). The Catholic Church believes that as part of that protection, Jesus will prevent his church from falling into doctrinal error. To prevent his church from doctrinal error, Jesus promised to send "the Spirit of truth" who "will guide you into all truth" (John 16:13). Not only did Jesus send the Holy Spirit to guide the church, but he also gave Peter the keys to the kingdom, the power of binding and loosing. It is unreasonable that Jesus, having gone to all the trouble to build a church and hand out keys, and to send the Holy Spirit to lead the church into all truth and teach it everything it needed to know, would decide to withhold such protection after the death of the apostles. It is much more likely that he would continue to protect his chief shepherds, Peter's successors, from totally blowing it when exercising the authority of the keys.

Furthermore, as is the case with the communion of saints, the scope of the objectors' objection is once again too narrow. Infallibility is not limited to the Pope, although he is given that gift in a special way, but it also extends to the other bishops and especially to ecumenical councils. According to Vatican II:

Although the individual bishops do not enjoy the prerogative of infallibility, they nevertheless proclaim Christ's doctrine infallibly whenever . . . they are in agreement on one position as definitively to be held. This is even more clearly verified when, gathered together in an ecumenical council, they are teachers and judges of faith and morals for the universal Church, whose definitions must be adhered to with the submission of faith (Lumen Gentium, 25).

Those Christians who adhere to an orthodox Christology—that is to say that they believe that Christ is the second person of the Holy Trinity in the flesh, that he possess a divine and human nature, etc.—those Christians are indebted to several infallible ecumenical councils (Nicaea, Constantinople, Ephesus, etc.) who protected the faith against Arius, Nestorius, and the like. To reject the infallibility of those Councils' decisions calls orthodox Christology into question. If those Councils were not protected by the Holy Spirit from teaching error, then what all orthodox Christians believe about Jesus may be entirely wrong. If the Councils were wrong, then we all might as well be Episcopalian and just accept the idea that Jesus was a good man and a wise teacher. Without infallibility—God's protection of his church from error—Christianity would mean precisely squat.⁵

I should also point out that the Pope and the Councils do not make up new doctrines. Whatever they teach must come from the revelation given by Jesus to the apostles that has been handed down since the birth of the church. Again, Vatican II:

But when either the Roman Pontiff or the Body of Bishops together with him defines a judgment, they pronounce it in accordance with [divine] Revelation itself, which all are obliged to abide by and be in conformity with. . . . The Roman Pontiff and the bishops . . . diligently strive to inquire properly into that revelation and to give apt expression to its contents; but a new public revelation they do not accept as pertaining to the divine deposit of faith (Lumen Gentium, 25).

In other words, the church may try to better understand and explain a doctrine, as was the case when the Council at Ephesus expounded the doctrine of the hypostatic union, but it will not accept any new, until-now-unrevealed revelation. Whatever the bishops teach must be part of the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints (cf. Jud 1:3).

Again, infallibility amounts to God protecting his church from the gates of hell, and in so doing protecting the Pope and the Councils from teaching error in matters of faith and morals. Mark Shea, a Catholic apologist whom I have quoted elsewhere, sums up infallibility in far more eloquent terms than can I. He is worth quoting at length:

The basic point is that infallibility is actually a very modest claim, despite appearances. It essentially means that the Catholic Church is populated by nothing but screwups and without the special action of the Holy Spirit, the revelation of Christ would have been lost a half an hour after Pentecost. All it guarantees is that the revelation will not be lost, that the Church will not define as essential Catholic teaching something that is not true. It leaves the Pope and the rest of the Church free to sin, to screwup, to make terrible decisions, and to majorly blow it in huge ways, including persecution of Jews, forged Donations of Constantine, dumb liturgical changes, corrupt political alliances and all the rest of the parade of bad things done by Catholics.

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All scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

Notes

1. I mean no disrespect to St. Peter. He has made no worse mistakes than the rest of us human beings. The fact that we are all screw-ups is the reason we need a Redeemer at all. The only reason that I single out Peter is that he is pertinent to the discussion given his role as the first bishop of Rome, and that his mistakes got recorded in the Bible.
2. In the link provided, Pastor Aeternus is referred to by its more descriptive subtitle, "First dogmatic constitution on the Church of Christ."
3. This phrase is the reason cathedrals are called "cathedrals." A cathedral is a bishop's church headquarters, so to speak. In addition to the chairs at the front of the church reserved for priests, deacons, and altar servers, cathedrals also have a chair reserved exclusively for the bishop.
4. There are those who object to the idea of Peter as the rock and who will suggest that it is actually Peter's confession of Jesus as the Christ that is the rock. Their reasoning is based on Jesus's play on words in the passage. In the original Greek, Jesus says, "You are Petros and on this petra I will build my church." Petra is the Greek word for rock or stone. The objectors insist that because Jesus uses two different words, Petros and petra, that he is not calling Peter the rock but is referring to something else, namely Peter's confession. However, they are mistaken.
        Greek, like French, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, German, Latin, and many other languages around the world, assign gender to inanimate objects. In German, a cat (die Katze) is feminine while a dog (der Hund) is masculine, regardless of whether the dog or cat indicated is male or female. If I were to tell a German pet owner that his male cat named Bob is adorable I would say, "Deine Katze Bob ist wunderschön." Deine is the feminine possessive adjective but it is used here even though Bob is a male cat. Sometimes the gender assignments are quite ironic. In Spanish, the word for a man's shirt is feminine (la camisa), but a woman's bodice (the upper part of her dress) is masculine (el blousón). In Spanish all nouns have gender, but in German not all nouns have gender. Some, like das Scheißhaus, are gender-neutral. But I digress.
        Petra, the Greek for rock, is a feminine noun. Assigning a feminine name to a man is inappropriate and would be quite insulting, especially in a strongly patriarchal culture like first-century Judaea. So Jesus, as he is quoted in the Greek text, assigns a masculine ending (-os) to Peter's nickname, thus he becomes Petros. The objectors further miss the point that Jesus and his disciples most likely spoke Aramaic, a language in which "rock" is gender-neutral. In Aramaic, Jesus would have said, "You are Rock and on this rock I will build my church." The play on gender is only recorded in the New Testament because it was necessary to make sure Peter retained a masculine name when Jesus's Aramaic words were translated into Greek.
5. There are those who, at this point in the discussion, would argue that they have the Bible and the Holy Spirit to guide them and that this combination is enough to determine orthodox doctrine without the aid of councils and popes. I would encourage them to ask themselves why it is that the councils had to meet to defend the faith against Arius and Nestorius and the like in the first place. Surely those men had the same scriptures as the Councils to determine correct belief about Jesus. Another excellent question is why, though they all have the same Bible, that Baptists and Wesleyans and Lutherans and Presbyterians and hard-core Calvinists disagree on what basic, biblical things really mean, such as Baptism, Communion, justification, sanctification, regeneration, grace, free will, etc. The Holy Spirit can't be leading each of these groups in their differing directions—contradicting opinions can't all be correct and God does not contradict himself. In answer, the objectors, following Wesley's lead, might then appeal to some vague set of "essential" doctrines, an issue which I have addressed previously, the argument for which does not hold up given that the differing Protestant doctrines are all considered essential by those that hold them. Given these circumstances, how does one decide which set of beliefs to accept? The simple answer is to look for the Church that Christ founded upon St. Peter and the apostles.

In recent conversations about Catholic doctrine, it has become clear that evangelicals do not object to actual Catholic doctrine, but rather they object to what they misunderstand to be Catholic doctrine. Over the course of the next several posts (which will be filed under Belief), I will attempt to address these misunderstandings, misunderstandings that I myself held at one time, and will do my very best to explain what the Catholic Church really believes. In the spirit of Justin Martyr, I "have come, not to flatter you by this writing, nor please you by our address, but to beg that you pass judgment, after an accurate and searching investigation," and that you would not be influenced by "evil rumours which have long been prevalent" (First Apology, II).

Part 1. Mary the Mother of God

In a previous post I mentioned that Catholic beliefs about Mary seem to irritate non-Catholics more than any other Catholic belief. This claim is, of course, based only on experiential and anecdotal evidence and not on a survey of a scientifically-chosen random sample of the non-Catholic population. At any rate, the non-Catholic objection to Mary often reaches the point of accusation that Catholics worship her. A less polemical, more reasonable discussion might begin with this question, the one with which we will start: Why do Catholics make Mary so important? The answer is that they don't. It is God who made her important when He chose her as the woman through whom He would become incarnate and dwell among us. The Catholic Church does not worship Mary, but it does recognize that she has a singularly special role in salvation history. The Catholic understanding of Mary's role has become clearer over the centuries such that the Church recognizes four Marian dogmas (or dogmata if you want to be uppity and go with the Latin plural form):

1. Mary is the Mother of God.
2. Because of her special role as the Mother of God she remained a virgin throughout her life.
3. In preparation to be the Mother of God, God protected Mary from the stain of original sin from the moment of her conception.
4. At the end of her earthly life she was assumed body and soul into heaven.

To handle each of these topics in a single blog post would be overwhelming to the reader (and to the writer), so they will be addressed in four separate posts. In Part 1, we tackle the dogma of Mary the Mother of God.

A point worthy of note: the Marian dogmas (dogmata) are not about Mary alone. What they point to and illuminate is the nature of our Lord Jesus Christ. The Catechism of the Catholic Church words it this way: "What the Catholic faith believes about Mary is based on what it believes about Christ, and what it teaches about Mary illumines in turn its faith in Christ" (CCC, 487).

That Mary is the Mother of God seems fairly straightforward to me. Mary is Jesus's mother. Jesus is God in the flesh. Therefore, Mary is the Mother of God. Simple, right? I think so. But the development of the theology behind the dogma is slightly more complex.

The belief that Jesus of Nazareth is God incarnate (from the Latin for "in the flesh") is evident from the earliest Christian writings in the New Testament. St. John is explicit when he writes that the Son, the second Person of the Holy Trinity, the eternal Word who "was in the beginning with God . . . was made flesh, and dwelt among us" (John 1:2, 14). But in the 50s A.D., forty years earlier than John, St. Paul is more explicit when he writes that Jesus, "Who, being in the form of God . . . made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men" (Php 2:6–7, my emphasis). Paul's use of language here is important: In both instances of the word form, describing Jesus's relationship to God and his relationship to man, Paul uses the Greek morphe (μορφη) which suggests the shape or nature of something (Strong's Dictionary s.v. 3444). By using the same word to describe both relationships, Paul is effectively saying that both God's nature, his substance, and the nature of man are simultaneously present in the man Jesus Christ. Two natures, divine and human, in one person.¹

However, two or three hundred years after the New Testament was written, the Church was confronted with several popular heresies that misrepresented the nature of the man Jesus of Nazareth, and consequently what his mother should be called. Over the course of time, the Church convened several councils to defend orthodox Christian belief about Jesus. It has been the practice of the Church since the earliest times to convene councils to decide matters of faith (see Acts 15). But the councils have always been reactive; that is, the councils do not meet to invent new doctrines but rather to respond to attacks against the faith or to clear up confusion in doctrinal or disciplinary matters. So it isn't until A.D. 325 at the first ecumenical Council at Nicaea that the Church formally articulated in writing the doctrine of Jesus as true God in the flesh. Against the claims of an heretical bishop named Arius, the Council professed that Jesus is

the Son of God, the only-begotten of his Father, of the substance of the Father, God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God, begotten, not made, being of one substance with the Father. By whom all things were made, both which be in heaven and in earth. Who for us men and for our salvation came down [from heaven] and was incarnate and was made man (Nicaea, Creed).

A century later, Nestorius also claimed that Jesus was not true God. He then went one step further than Arius and anathematized anyone who would call Mary the Mother of God, a logical conclusion of his belief that Jesus was not God. It was then that the ecumenical Council at Ephesus in A.D. 431 upheld the orthodox belief in the union of Jesus's two natures, citing John's gospel (3:34):

Confessing the Word to be made one with the flesh according to substance, we adore one Son and Lord Jesus Christ: we do not divide the God from the man, nor separate him into parts, as though the two natures were mutually united in him only through a sharing of dignity and authority (for that is a novelty and nothing else), neither do we give separately to the Word of God the name Christ and the same name separately to a different one born of a woman; but we know only one Christ, the Word from God the Father with his own Flesh. For as man he was anointed with us, although it is he himself who gives the Spirit to those who are worthy and not in measure, according to the saying of the blessed Evangelist John (Ephesus, Epistle to Nestorius ["Cum salvator noster"]).

To describe the union of Christ's divine and human natures, the bishops at Ephesus used the Greek word hypostasis (υποστασις), but it is far easier to assign a label to this doctrine than to actually understand it. In fact, the union of Christ's natures is beyond human comprehension. To describe what little we do understand, however, we can say that Jesus is a divine person who has taken on a human nature, and that he remains fully human and fully divine, and yet he remains one person. His two natures are not separate, but neither are they confused, i.e. Jesus is not two persons but one, but he is also not an admixture of divine and human. We can not say that the divine nature simply indwells a human body; Jesus's humanity was not simply a vehicle for his divinity.² Both Christ's divine and human qualities are fully present simultaneously in the person of Jesus of Nazareth.

Having established Christ's hypostatic union, the Council answered Nestorius's claim that Mary should not be called Mother of God. The bishops professed that "since the holy Virgin brought forth corporally God made one with flesh according to nature, for this reason we also call her Mother of God" (Ephesus, Epistle to Nestorius ["Cum salvator noster"]). Returning anathema for anathema, and again citing John (1:14), the Council declared that "If anyone will not confess that the Emmanuel is very God, and that therefore the Holy Virgin is the Mother of God, inasmuch as in the flesh she bore the Word of God made flesh [as it is written, 'The Word was made flesh'] let him be anathema" (Ephesus, Anathema 1). In other words, because Mary bore God in the flesh, she is the Mother of God and you'd better believe it.³

Notice that the Council at length defended the divinity of Christ against Nestorius, and only then, basing their argument on the divinity of Christ, defended Mary as Mother of God. It is only because of belief in Christ that Mary's title is defended, and Mary is given her title in order to defend belief in Christ. This is a concrete example of what the Church means when it says, "What the Catholic faith believes about Mary is based on what it believes about Christ, and what it teaches about Mary illumines in turn its faith in Christ" (CCC, 487).

What does Mary's title Mother of God illuminate about Christ? The obvious answer is that it defends the orthodox belief that Jesus is truly Emmanuel, God with us (Mat 1:23). But the image of Mary as the Mother of God is also evocative of Jesus's humanity, something I think we too often overlook. It is important that Jesus is human as well as divine. If Jesus is not divine it would seem that man could save himself and we could all be Buddhists. If he is not human then he did not truly suffer for the sins of humanity. Yet God, the Creator and Lord of the universe, became human and entrusted himself to the care of a young Jewish peasant girl. He became an embryo in her womb, nursed at her breast, and had his diapers changed by her. Being a mother, Mary gave birth to, suckled, nurtured, and raised God-with-us. In caring for the Word made flesh, the Blessed Virgin Mary did more than simply give God a human nature. She raised a divine person who walked the earth, faced the same temptations as us, got hungry, thirsty, and yet became the ultimate, effective atonement for the giant debt that man owes to his fellows and to God. Our one Lord Jesus Christ came down from heaven and became man, and for our sake was crucified, died, and was buried. On the third day, he rose again in fulfillment of the scriptures, ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end. But though he is the ultimate judge and will reign forever, Jesus, the eternal Word made flesh, is still truly his mother's Son, and his mother is the Mother of God.

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All scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

Notes

1. Although not material to the discussion, I find it fascinating that Paul here reverses the language of Genesis 1:26. In Genesis, God created man in his image and likeness and according to St. Paul, God made himself in the likeness of men.
2. "If anyone shall dare to say that the Christ is a Theophorus [that is, God-bearing] man and not rather that he is very God, as an only Son through nature, because 'the Word was made flesh,' and 'has a share in flesh and blood as we do:' let him be anathema" (Ephesus, Anathema 5).
3. Also worthy of note is that the Council did not invent the title Mother of God. The fact that the bishops defended Mary's title against Nestorius presupposes that the title was already in accepted use at the time it was attacked, and therefore it was the Church's doctrine long before the Council was convoked.

In recent conversations about Catholic doctrine, it has become clear that evangelicals do not object to actual Catholic doctrine, but rather they object to what they misunderstand to be Catholic doctrine. Over the course of the next several posts, I will attempt to address these misunderstandings, misunderstandings that I myself held at one time, and will do my very best to explain what the Catholic Church really believes. In the spirit of Justin Martyr, I "have come, not to flatter you by this writing, nor please you by our address, but to beg that you pass judgment, after an accurate and searching investigation," and that you would not be influenced by "evil rumours which have long been prevalent" (First Apology, II).

One of the first objections raised against Catholics is, "But they pray to Mary!" The Blessed Virgin seems to irritate non-Catholics more than almost any other Catholic doctrine, and I'm not sure why. After all, she brought the God-man Jesus Christ into our world and for this, if for no other reason, she deserves our honor and respect. In future posts I will deal with the Marian dogmata, but presently I want to address the specific objection of "praying to Mary."

Catholics don't pray to Mary in the sense that they worship her. If anyone worships Mary they aren't being a very good Catholic; worship of anything other than God is idolatry, a grave sin. The Catechism of the Catholic Church words it this way:

Idolatry consists in divinizing what is not God. Man commits idolatry whenever he honors and reveres a creature in place of God, whether this be gods or demons (for example, satanism), power, pleasure, race, ancestors, the state, money, etc. . . . Many martyrs died for not adoring "the Beast" refusing even to simulate such worship. Idolatry rejects the unique Lordship of God; it is therefore incompatible with communion with God (CCC, no. 2113).

These are pretty strong words against idolatry and, make no mistake, the Catholic Church follows its own proscription; it does not divinize Mary or honor her in place of God. She is a creature, a very special creature to be sure, but a creature nonetheless. So how do they get away with praying to her? To put it in evangelical terms, they make prayer requests and not prayers of supplication. And to be clear, Catholics don't ask Mary to perform miracles like parting the Red Sea, changing Coke into Pepsi, or even helping them find their car keys. They make prayer requests—they ask Mary to pray for them.

The best example of this idea is the most common Marian prayer, the Hail Mary, one which evangelicals seem most offended by. The first part greets Mary in the same way as the angel Gabriel and her kinswoman Elizabeth and comes straight out of the Bible: "Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus" (cf. Luke 1:28 and 1:42)¹. The second part is the prayer request: "Holy Mary, Mother of God,² pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen." Clearly, Mary is not worshipped; she is greeted in the same way that angels and relatives greet her, then she is asked to pray for us.

Before moving on, we should pause for a moment to consider the word "pray." For many, "pray" means directly addressing God in an act of worship, but there are other uses for the word. The Catholic Church was in England long before Protestantism and so, when talking about Mary, Catholics use it in the old English sense of the word, which is to simply ask something of someone. This is the sense that the US Supreme Court uses when they write in their opinions things like, "that court was of opinion that the law under which the prosecution was had was constitutional, and denied the relief prayed for by the petitioner;" and "Whereupon petitioner prayed for a writ of error from this court. . ." (Plessy v. Ferguson). "Pray" was especially popular in Elizabethan English. Shakespeare has Hamlet say to the players, "Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you" (Hamlet, Act III, Scene 2). And contemporary to Shakespeare is the King James Bible which quotes St. Paul as saying, "we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God" (2 Cor. 5:20). Catholics don't worship Mary when they pray to her in the same way that the petitioner doesn't worship Supreme Court justices, Hamlet didn't worship his actors, and St. Paul didn't worship the church at Corinth.

And that is the doctrine in a nutshell. Prayer in the old English sense of the word. Prayer requests, not worship. 'Tis very simple. However, something that divides Christianity deserves a fuller explanation, and I would be remiss in my duty indeed if I explained this in anything less than 3,000 words.

The first step in my fuller explanation is to point out what most non-Catholics may not realize—their objection to praying to Mary is too narrow in scope; the practice follows from a doctrine called the Communion of Saints and thus applies to all the saints and angels in heaven. The Communion of Saints is a belief that, by virtue of our being members of the Church, the Body of Christ as St. Paul described it, Christians are united together in such a way that not even death can separate us. If we are indeed members of the one Body of Christ, then we cannot be separated—a body is no longer a whole body if it loses an arm or a leg. A body requires all its members to function fully (see Rom. 12:4ff.). At Archdale Wesleyan, we professed a belief in the Communion of Saints at least once or twice a year when we would recite the Apostles' Creed from the back of our hymnals. The last clause in the Creed says, "I believe in the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting." (Of course, we would always replace "the holy catholic church" with "the holy universal church of Jesus Christ" or something similar because "catholic," which means "universal," sounded too Catholic.) Unfortunately, evangelicals too often reduce the word "communion" to mean "fellowship" and, oddly, have tended to make "fellowship" into a verb synonymous with "eating pot luck dinners together." They have even built "fellowship halls" for this very purpose. In reducing the Communion of Saints to fellowship among those of us on earth, we lose sight of the bigger picture of the Church that includes not only those of us who are on earth but also our communion in Christ with those who have gone before us. We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses who have gone before us in the faith (Heb. 12:1; see ch. 11 for context). It is only because of our communion with them in Christ that it makes any sense to ask Mary and all the angels and saints to pray for us.

A concise example of prayer requests made in the Communion of Saints can be found in the penitential rite at the beginning of every Mass: "I confess to Almighty God, and to you my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned. . . . And I ask Blessed Mary, ever virgin, all the angels and saints, and you my brothers and sisters, to pray for me to the Lord our God. The faithful ask for the prayers of their brothers and sisters on earth who are in their immediate physical presence, but also for the prayers of Mary, the angels, and the saints who are in heaven.

Prayers to the saints in heaven are limited to prayer requests, but it may not seem intuitive to the modern mind to ask them to pray for us. It is intuitive for us that we would ask the aspiring saints here on earth to pray for us. I ask my mother, father, wife, pastor to pray for me and they do. Likewise, they ask me to pray for them and I do. But science and empiricism are so ingrained in us that we cannot fathom how exactly we can talk to Mary and the saints to ask them to pray for us. They're dead, right? Well, if we truly believe Christian doctrine, we don't believe that those persons in heaven are dead—in fact, we believe that they are more alive than any of us here on earth simply because they are in heaven and in the direct presence of God Almighty. Furthermore, we have a share with them in the Communion of Saints through Jesus Christ our Lord. If we consider that we are addressing living persons through Christ, it isn't a huge stretch to ask them to pray for us. They are alive and we are in communion with them.

One question that often arises is that the saints are in heaven, in the presence of God, and are blissfully happy for all eternity—why would they care what is happening on earth? For that matter, do they even know what is happening on earth? Well, the Bible reveals to us that the saints in heaven are well aware of what is happening to the saints on earth and that they care:

And when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held: And they cried with a loud voice, saying, How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth? (Rev. 6:9–10).

Here we see that the souls of the martyrs in heaven are quite aware of what is happening on earth and that they pray to God to bring about specific ends on the earth. If they were not aware of earthly events, they would not know that God had not already avenged their blood and consequently would not bother to ask for vengeance. Moreover, those in heaven are quite aware of the prayers of the saints on earth, and in fact carry those prayers to the throne of God:

And when he had taken the book, the four beasts and four and twenty elders fell down before the Lamb, having every one of them harps, and golden vials full of odours, which are the prayers of saints (Rev. 5:8).

And even the angels get involved:

And another angel came and stood at the altar, having a golden censer; and there was given unto him much incense, that he should offer it with the prayers of all saints upon the golden altar which was before the throne. And the smoke of the incense, which came with the prayers of the saints, ascended up before God out of the angel's hand (Rev. 8:3–4).

Clearly, the inspired written Word of God tells us that the angels and saints in heaven know and care about what is happening on earth, and that they take the prayers of the saints on earth to God—they intercede on our behalf.

But the idea that saints and angels deliver our prayers to God raises another common objection: that we have but one mediator between God and man and therefore we don't need to ask for the intercession of the saints. True, there is "one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus; Who gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time" (1 Tim. 2:5), but this objection seems to imply that because Jesus is our one Mediator that we have no need for the prayers of anyone else. That doesn't quite follow. I could tell my mother, "Don't pray for me! I already have a mediator!" but I would sound stupid. On the contrary, James tells us that we should "pray for one another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much" (Jas. 5:16). James's instruction to pray for each other requires that one intercede on behalf of another; in doing so we become mediators between our brothers and God. St. Paul throughout his letters tells his churches that he is praying for them, for instance 2 Cor. 13:7, Php. 1:9, Col. 1:9, 1 Thess. 5:23, etc. He also asks for their prayers: "Brethren, pray for us" (1 Thess. 5:25). Paul, like the rest of us, intercedes for his brothers and sisters and requests that they do the same for him. Why? Because the Church is a "holy priesthood" with a duty "to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ" (2 Pet. 2:5). The duty of the priest is mediation between God and the people. Because we are a "royal priesthood" (2 Pet. 2:9) we have the duty and privilege to mediate on behalf of our brothers and the entire world. The letter to the Hebrews tells us that Christ is our High Priest, but "high priest" implies that there are lesser priests. In the Old Testament, the high priest would would offer the sacrifice of atonement on Yom Kippur and enter into the Most Holy Place in the temple, but all the lesser priests offered sacrifices and prayers on behalf of the people throughout the year. So it is with us; Christ has offered himself as the Sacrifice of Atonement and has ascended into heaven, but we the lesser priests still offer prayers and sacrifices on behalf of our brothers and sisters. By interceding for each other we in no way diminish Christ's mediation, we simply become participants with Him. The same is true for the saints in heaven who intercede on our behalf; they have as much a share in the royal priesthood as does any of the faithful on earth. Furthermore, James says that the prayer of a righteous man availeth much. I ask: which of us is more righteous than those saints in heaven whom God has purified and made righteous?

Another typical objection to the intercession of the saints is that communication with the dead is strictly forbidden by the Bible. For the moment, let's ignore the point I made earlier about the saints in heaven not being dead and take a careful look at what the Bible says. There are numerous commandments against occult practices such as conjuring the dead, sorcery, witchcraft, divination, familiars, reading entrails, etc. Here are a few (source):

• Leviticus 19:26 . . . neither shall ye use enchantment, nor observe times.
• Leviticus 19:31 Regard not them that have familiar spirits, neither seek after wizards, to be defiled by them: I am the LORD your God.
• Leviticus 20:6 And the soul that turneth after such as have familiar spirits, and after wizards, to go a whoring after them, I will even set my face against that soul, and will cut him off from among his people.
• Leviticus 20:27 A man also or woman that hath a familiar spirit, or that is a wizard, shall surely be put to death: they shall stone them with stones: their blood shall be upon them.
• Deuteronomy 18:10–11 There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch, Or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer.
• Deuteronomy 18:14 For these nations, which thou shalt possess, hearkened unto observers of times, and unto diviners: but as for thee, the LORD thy God hath not suffered thee so to do.

The most famous example of the kind of occult practice forbidden by God is recorded in 1 Samuel 28:5ff. King Saul was terrified of what the Philistine army might do to his kindgom. Saul asked God what would happen, but God had turned away from Saul because of his disobedience and did not answer. So Saul has his servants bring him a woman with a familiar spirit; they deliver to him a woman from Endor (not the moon where the Ewoks live) whom he asks to call forth Samuel, the prophet who had anointed him king and was now dead. Samuel, of course, is upset from having been awakened at such an ungodly hour but Saul is terrified and wants to know what he should do. Samuel tells Saul that because he had disobeyed God, God had already ordered his punishment and would give the kingdom to David. The woman was worried because she knew she had violated the law, even though she had done so at Saul's command; Saul apparently had a reputation for having "cut off those that have familiar spirits" (vs. 9). Finally, Saul, not having eaten for a few days because of his distress, gives into the woman and his servants and eats, then they all go away. To sum up, Saul a) used a woman with a familiar spirit to b) conjure the dead in order to c) know the future so he could decide what he should do. He violated three very specific commandments: a) using familiars, b) necromancy, and c) divination, all three found in Deut. 18:10. (If we want to be picky, he also violated Lev. 20:27 because he protected the woman and did not put her to death.)

Fortunately, asking the saints for prayers in no way resembles Saul's little incident, any of the occult practices forbidden in the Bible, or any occult practice not specifically mentioned in the Bible. To ask a saint for his prayers does not involve whoring with familiars (wording like that is why I love the KJV!), wizardry, enchantment, astrology, necromancy, divination, etc. When participating in the Communion of Saints, Catholics do not seek to know the future through occult practices but instead rely on the intercession of their brothers and sisters on earth, those in heaven, and most importantly the intercession of Jesus Christ our Lord, all of whom ultimately pray for the mercy of God Almighty.

The Catechism, quoting the document Lumen Gentium from the Second Vatican Council, sums up far more eloquently than can I the Communion of Saints and the point in asking for their prayers:

It is not merely by the title of example that we cherish the memory of those in heaven; we seek, rather, that by this devotion to the exercise of fraternal charity the union of the whole Church in the Spirit may be strengthened. Exactly as Christian communion among our fellow pilgrims brings us closer to Christ, so our communion with the saints joins us to Christ, from whom as from its fountain and head issues all grace, and the life of the People of God itself (CCC, no. 957).

If we can fully understand the actual Catholic teaching on the Communion of Saints, a doctrine that even evangelicals profess, we can all make the prayer of the Church our own:

May [Christ] make us an everlasting gift to you [Father] and enable us to share in the inheritance of your saints, with Mary the virgin Mother of God; with the apostles, the martyrs, and all your saints on whose constant intercession we rely for help (Eucharistic Prayer III).

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All scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

Notes

1. Most English translations render "full of grace" in Luke 1:28 as "highly favoured." However, the original Greek word used is kecharitomene (κεχαριτωμενη), the root of which is charis (χαρις) which means "grace," and it is especially hard to translate well. Greek grammar is rich and can thus express complicated ideas in fewer words than English. Kecharitomene is one such complex word which suggests a permanent condition of having grace. In context it implies that Mary received grace from God at some time in the past, presently has God's grace, and will have it in the future. There is no good equivalent for kecharitomene in English or in most other languages. The best St. Jerome could do in the 4th century with his Latin translation was gratia plena, literally "full of grace." The first English Bibles were translated from Jerome's Latin and thus "full of grace" stuck. This word is found in very little Greek literature outside of the New Testament, and is found nowhere else in the Bible; it applies singularly to Mary.
2. Mother of God is a title given to Mary by the fathers of the early Church and is a dogma I will address in an upcoming post. In Greek the fathers called her theotokos (θεοτοκος), literally the "God-bearer." Personally, I think "Mother of God" works better in English; it's more poetic and provides a fuller sense of her duty in raising and caring for God in the flesh.

In the evangelical world there is a growing tendency to brush aside our doctrinal differences and emphasize our agreement on the "essentials" of Christianity. I suppose this tendency comes ultimately from John Wesley, the father of the evangelical movement. In his sermon "Catholic Spirit," published originally in 1750, he poses the question that "although a difference in opinions or modes of worship may prevent an entire external union, yet need it prevent our union in affection? ... May we not be of one heart, though we are not of one opinion?" His answer: "Without all doubt we may" (4). He goes on to suggest that "every man must judge for himself, as every man must give an account of himself to God" and that we must exercise "the right of private judgment on which that whole [Protestant] Reformation stands" (I.9, 10). Wesley qualifies his opinion by saying that "an indifference to all opinions... is the spawn of hell, not the offspring of heaven.... A man of a truly catholic spirit has not now his religion to seek. He is fixed as the sun in his judgment concerning the main branches of Christian doctrine" (III.1). The central point of "Catholic Spirit," then, is that we must agree on the core of Christian doctrine while charitably allowing room for multiple opinions. Wesley enumerates his list of core doctrines in paragraph I.12 and the following, but basically they boil down to a belief in an omnipotent God, that Jesus died for the sins of the world, and an attempt to live holy lives—to "show your love by your works" (I.18). Apparently, everything else is up for debate.

Wesley argues that "as long as there are various opinions there will be various ways of worshipping God" (I.8) and supports his argument with an example from 2 Kings 10:15:

After [Jehu] left there, he came upon Jehonadab son of Recab.... Jehu greeted him and said, "Are you in accord with me, as I am with you?" "I am," Jehonadab answered. "If so," said Jehu, "give me your hand" (New International Version).

Wesley suggests that though Jehu and Jehonadab disagreed on how to worship God they somehow found themselves in one accord. First, I have my doubts about just how deep was their accord. After all, if I had just run across Jehu who had very recently "killed everyone in Jezreel who remained of the house of Ahab" (2 Kings 10:11), I might feel more inclined than usual to find accord with him. Continuing with his Jehu/Jehonadab example Wesley points out from 2 Kings 10:28–29 that Jehu had not turned away from "the worship of the golden calves at Bethel and Dan" and thus worshipped God differently than Jehonadab, yet they were still in one accord. A man as astute as Wesley should know that worshipping idols was forbidden by the Ten Commandments (Ex. 20:3–5). He should also know that worshipping a golden calf while waiting for Moses to come down from Mt. Sinai is the thing for which Israel was struck with a plague (Ex. 32). So the very text on which his sermon is based leaves Wesley without support for multiple valid modes of worship and, consequently, multiple valid opinions.

Moreover, Wesley's idea that it is acceptable to separate ourselves based on our multiple opinions violates St. Paul's exhortation to unity:

I appeal to you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another so that there may be no divisions among you and that you may be perfectly united in mind and thought. My brothers, some from Chloe's household have informed me that there are quarrels among you. What I mean is this: One of you says, "I follow Paul"; another, "I follow Apollos"; another, "I follow Cephas [Peter]"; still another, "I follow Christ." Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Were you baptized into the name of Paul? (1 Cor. 1:10–13, NIV).

Paul does not suggest that we should agree on some set of essential doctrines and that everything else is up for debate. Rather, his point is that because Christ is not divided, neither should we be divided. "Perfectly united in mind and thought" is a very different thing than "every man must judge for himself."

If directly contradicting the scripture is not enough to do away with the idea that we can agree to disagree, let us make one further observation: The idea that it is okay to divide ourselves based on our varying opinions as long as we agree on some hypothetical set of "essentials" is fundamentally flawed. It is a fact that divisions between Christians exist because of differing opinions. It follows that each of the divided groups must believe that their opinions are "essential," or there would be no reason for the divisions to exist. The converse is also true. If our differing opinions are not "essential" then there is no reason to divide ourselves because of them.

If Paul were to write to us today he might say, "One of you says 'I follow Luther'; another, 'I follow Calvin'; another, 'I follow Wesley'; still another 'I follow Joel Osteen.'" The consequence of our exercising "the right of private judgment on which that whole Reformation stands" is that "no man can be assured that all his own opinions taken together are true" ("Catholic Spirit," I.4). Frankly, I want something more. I want to know without doubt that I hold the "faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints" (Jude 1:3, NIV). I suppose I will have to keep looking until I find it.