Catholics stand together during Sunday Mass to recite the “Profession of Faith,” a creed that defines precisely what it is that makes them Catholic.

“We believe in God … We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ … We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.”

The prayer covers a lot of ground, from God’s creation of the Earth to Christ’s birth and crucifixion to the promise of life in heaven. Most churchgoing Catholics memorized the words as children and consider the creed a statement that unites them in a common belief.

And yet, when they walk out of church at the end of Mass, they still find plenty about their faith to argue about.

The arguments have been passionate in recent weeks as Cincinnati’s Catholics debated Archbishop Daniel Pilarczyk’s decision to punish Sister Louise Akers for publicly supporting the ordination of women priests.

Pilarczyk told Akers she could not teach in archdiocesan schools until she renounced her stance on the issue. A week after she refused, a parish priest in Westwood dismissed a volunteer religion teacher, Carol Egner, for writing a letter to The Enquirer supporting Akers and her position on women priests.

The decision to punish the teachers not only rekindled debate over the ordination of women, but also highlighted a long-running tug-of-war between traditionalists and progressives over the future of the Catholic Church.

“What’s happening with Akers is not an isolated case,” said John Allen, an author and columnist who covers the Vatican for the National Catholic Reporter, an independent weekly newspaper. “It’s a small piece of a much bigger picture.”

The struggle within the church has intensified in the past few years as conservative Catholics, energized by the appointment of Pope Benedict XVI, pushed for stricter adherence to church teaching. They have praised a Vatican investigation of women’s religious orders, welcomed a return to traditions such as the granting of indulgences and cheered Pope Benedict’s declaration that Catholics must “not seek to adapt the faith to the fashions of the age.”

They also supported Pilarczyk’s decision to get tough with Akers over the ordination of women, which some consider a vestige of a liberal theology that took hold in the 1960s and 1970s after the Second Vatican Council.

The council, also known as Vatican II, launched reforms that some theologians now say were misinterpreted as an invitation to change the central teachings of the faith to better mesh with the changing secular world.

“Vatican II wasn’t intended to set off a liturgical civil war, but that’s what we got,” said Rich Leonardi, a Cincinnatian who writes the conservative Catholic blog Ten Reasons. “There was a tendency to think the church should just go with the flow, to move with the world rather than to move the world.

“That ship has sailed. There’s no intensity around that movement any more.”

Catholics who favor reform dispute Leonardi’s take on their views, saying they remain active and committed to changing their church from within. They acknowledge, however, that they face more challenges today than they did just a few decades ago.

“I do think there seems to be a trend among bishops around the country to get much more hard-line about women’s issues,” said Christine Schenk, director of FutureChurch, which favors a “discussion” about women’s ordination but has not endorsed the idea.

“It’s a mystery to me, but talking about women’s equality in the church is threatening at some level.” (Oh. Puh-leaze. Genesis doesn’t say “male and female he created equally” It says, “Male and female he created them.” Each gender is unique, and each has unique gifts. They are not interchangable things. For more–read the Theology of the Body. Even a brief summary will suffice.)

Dealing with dissent

Conservatives have gained momentum in the past decade among the laity, in seminaries and in the church hierarchy. They have taken to blogs, TV and radio and have become more active in church affairs and in secular politics.

That was evident earlier this year when bishops and thousands of lay Catholics publicly opposed President Barack Obama’s speech at the University of Notre Dame on grounds that his pro-choice stance conflicted with Catholic teachings.

“What we’re living through right now is a kind of reaction against what was seen as an excessively liberal period,” Allen said.

From the outside looking in, divisions within the church are not all that visible because polls show America’s 70 million Catholics tend to hold views similar to those of the general population.

But those polls also show that Catholics who describe themselves as “orthodox” or who attend Mass regularly are more closely aligned with their church’s teachings on issues such as abortion, homosexuality and embryonic stem cell research.

These are the Catholics who have embraced what some call the “Catholic identity movement,” which calls for closer adherence to the traditions and teachings that separate Catholics from other Christian faiths.

“A watered down Catholicism that asks nothing of its members shouldn’t expect to get anything in return,” Leonardi said.

One of those teachings is the all-male priesthood. While not referenced in Scripture, it is based on sacred tradition passed down over 2,000 years and is specifically referenced in the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

In other words, the male priesthood is non-negotiable.

“The church has no authority to ordain women,” said archdiocese spokesman Dan Andriacco. “It is not an open question.”

He said the discipline imposed on Akers and Egner is not part of a wider crackdown on dissent, as some fear, and the archdiocese has no interest in rooting out rank-and-file Catholics who don’t agree with everything the church does, including the 60 percent who tell pollsters they support ordaining women.

“There is no witch hunt,” said the Rev. Earl Fernandes, dean of Mount St. Mary’s Seminary. “We’re a big church. We try to help each person to grow in faith.”

‘Spirit of openness’

Dissent is nothing new for Catholics. The church’s positions on birth control, celibacy for priests, the Latin Mass and a host of other traditions and teachings have been argued for decades, or even centuries.

Priests and bishops know not every Catholic will adhere to every teaching of the faith, and most say there is room on some issues for healthy debate, or at least for disagreement.

“We want to have a fundamental spirit of openness,” Fernandes said.

Church officials say Akers and Egner crossed a line because they are teachers who publicly challenged church teachings. Their argument goes something like this: Religion is about belief, and those who believe women should be priests don’t believe what the Catholic Church teaches. They believe what Methodists teach. (Ha!)

That doesn’t mean they have to quit the church, but it does mean they aren’t permitted to teach. (Exactement!)

“We want our teachers to be authentic,” Fernandes said. “We want our teachers to believe what they teach.”

Both Akers and Egner say they would not express their views on women’s ordination in their classes, and they consider themselves loyal to their church and to the core beliefs recited every Sunday in the Profession of Faith.

They say there should be room in their church for them to do the work they love, even if they disagree on the ordination of women.

“Catholics have a very long tradition of various beliefs and the ability to talk about them,” Egner said. “Sometimes things change.”

There are no written assignments, only a midterm and a final. There aren’t any reading assignments on the syllabus, but he does give them during the lecture. Like tonight he wanted us to read part of the CCC, about liturgy and sacraments. It was pretty edifying. 

I think this one will be pretty smooth sailing, since sacraments, especially the Eucharist, are subjects I have read a lot about (having Protestant friends who think you’re a cannibal really helps in your preparation for this kind of stuff.) Our professor described the class as “practical”, saying that the sacraments are really the bread and butter of Catholicism. I totally agree. 

So a weekend break, then on M, back to sacraments. Sacraments MWF, and Biblical Studies I on T and Th.

Of Closed Communion and Japanese Restaurants

A while back when the Atlanta Braves were (yet again) playing the Yankees (yet again) in the World Series, somebody undertook to ask some Native Americans what they thought of the Atlanta team’s Indian symbol. In the article I read, I was amused to discover that, with one exception, none of the Native Americans interviewed cared a whit about the “Braves” symbol or felt it to be insulting, humiliating, etc. The one exception was an “outraged” “social activist” (i.e., a professional grievance mongerer, whose life and livelihood depended on surveying the landscape for affronts to Native Americans so as to get TV face time and funding for further identity politics and still more face time and money.) The activist’s “outrage” was purely professional and wildly out of touch with the people he claimed to speak for. Real Native Americans had lives and were cheering for the Braves.

This strange disconnect between the “activists” and the people they supposedly care about springs to mind when I contemplate the American Catholic Church. One of the current frets among the perpetual hand-wringing crowd in AmChurch is the terrible psychic trauma supposed to be inflicted on thousands of well-meaning non-Catholic visitors to Mass when they are informed that they cannot receive communion. So great is that trauma, we are told, that the Church must–simply must–change its cruel and nonsensical rule of closed communion and “welcome” all to the altar. Otherwise, we allegedly risk “alienating” a throng of exquisitely sensitive souls whose tender and trembling nerves cannot bear, even for a moment, the thought of “exclusion”.

All this sort of thing is stated as self-evidently obvious: like the fact that wife-beating skyrockets during the Super Bowl. Or the fact that Nostradamus predicted the WTC bombing. Or the fact that the Inquisition killed 46 million people. It’s just widely known, universally acknowledged, received wisdom that closed communion in the Catholic Church is devoid of reason, a relic of the Church’s insistence that She alone is right and only Catholics are saved, and that the response to this medieval tribalism by any thinking inquirer is to find some more tolerant and enlightened religion.

Now the curious thing is that the people who say these sorts of things are usually incredibly earnest acolytes of all that is progressive, PC, and multicultural. Walk into a Japanese restaurant with one of these folks and boorishly refuse to take your shoes off in deference to custom and you will be regarded as a mouth-breathing Neanderthal henceforth. Attend a Jewish friend’s bris for his son at the local Orthodox synagogue and complain that they didn’t serve ham sandwiches to accommodate your Gentile taste buds (”What about me? What about my needs!”) and they will wince (rightly) at your loutishness. Traipse into a silent auction and start barking out bids at the volume Ted Turner tells Polish jokes and they will, with complete justice, write you off as a self-centered loser with no capacity for dealing with social situations that do not completely orbit around your own immense ego.

But walk into Mass as a guest and start loudly demanding, “Hey! How come I can’t have some of those crackers and wine?! Real Presence? What’s that? The body and blood of Christ? No, I don’t believe in fairy tales, but I resent being excluded and I demand my rights!!” and they applaud you as a cutting edge pioneer in Catholic theology.

Now, it may have occurred to you that not many visitors at Mass really want to do these boorish things. It has occurred to me as well. I have a brother, mother, neighbors and many friends who are not Catholic. When they join us for Mass, we routinely remind them, “You can’t, of course, receive communion. However, you are welcome to come up and receive a blessing from the priest by just crossing your arms across your breast.” And they do. No fuss. No muss. They’re happy to honor our customs, happy to show respect for our Faith in whatever way seems best to us, just as I would be happy and not feel put upon to don a yarmulke should I pay a visit to my friend’s synagogue.

Indeed, I’ve never known or heard of a living soul, visiting the Church, who has been “hurt” by closed communion. Typically, such visitors are, as I once was, strangers in a strange land, a little awed, a little curious, a little amazed, a little amused, by the gestures, rituals, statues, candles, holy water, genuflections, litanies, candles, standing, kneeling, sitting, signs of the cross, sprinklings, anointings, readings and assorted sensory experiences being flung at them in the liturgy. It can be a little baffling, but who says that’s bad? Any contact with the divine worth its salt ought to have something about it that is mysterious. A religious rite that is clear as water and simple as the multiplication table is going to be as satisfying to the human soul as reading the phone book. There should be, for the newcomer, the sense that we are, as Thomas Howard put it, in the precincts of a great mystery, that we are in terra incognita, and that we are not in command of the situation.

Along with that sensation is a certain sort of humility that is at the far end of the spectrum from “humiliation”: the humility that makes us take off our shoes in Japanese restaurants, or respect the customs in a foreign country, or refrain from writing in magic marker on the Great Pyramid like a doltish tourist. This same sensation bids us to honor the local custom of the sanctuary and to observe the proprieties, not because we know what’s going on, but because we don’t. I have never known a soul, alive to this Common Courtesy 101 rule of thumb, who has felt “humiliated”, “excluded”, “diminished” or otherwise harmed by it. On the contrary, it is an enormously enriching approach to life since it makes us alive to the mysteries, twists, and turns that both human custom and sacred revelation may spring on us.

Indeed, the only people I know who fret about it are dissenting leftist Catholics, for whom no “problem” with the Church’s teaching and practice is so trivial, preposterous, or daffy that they cannot find some way to take offense on behalf of the phantom legions of the Wounded out there. (Dissenting rightist Catholics can also fixate on trivial, preposterous and daffy things. But they usually claim these objects of fixation are an offense against TRVTH, not against the tender sensitivities of buttercup twirlers.) It is the custom of leftist dissenters to talk about “nonsensical rules” without inquiring as to their sense. But when real visitors visit, they find the Church’s “nonsensical” rules to make a great deal of sense. When I explain “Please don’t take communion since, by that gesture, you are proclaiming ‘I believe all that the Catholic Church teaches and proclaims is revealed by God’ and you don’t want to do that unless you mean it and have been received into full communion by the Church”, I never get a quarrel. I get cheerful nods, interest, and a friendly desire to honor the sanctuary.

That’s because visitors, unlike the “activists” and “advocates” in the Church who claim to speak for them, are reasonable people with real lives to live and baseball teams to root for.

My thoughts: I have a lot of non-Catholic friends. Some of them have gone to Mass with me. And I always tell them, if you go up to receive communion, the Earth won’t open and God won’t smite you (Well, it hasn’t happened yet.). Then I go on to explain the Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist, and tell them that by receiving communion, you are agreeing to that (That’s what the “Amen” is about). If they agree, then go on up, then join RCIA. (Kidding…sort of) If not, then you can come up to be blessed or you can stay in the pew.

I believe most of my friends just stay in the pew. I can’t recall ever seeing one of them get up and receive with me. But I probably get more Protestant vitrol about this topic than any other, that’s for sure.

Elizabeth Ann Bayley Seton was born on August 28, 1774, in New york City, to a wealth and distinguished Episcopalian family. She was baptized in the Episcopal faith and was a faithful adherent to the Episcopal Church of England. Her mother died when she was a child and her father was a physician. In 1794, Elizabeth married businessman William Seton, and they raised five children in New York City. Her husband suffered a catastrophic business failure which forced the family to sell their home and depend on the kindness of relatives. William contracted tuberculosis and Elizabeth and Anna, one of their daughters, accompanied him to Leghorn, Italy, where he sought a cure. Sadly, he died there, and Elizabeth and Anna went to live for a time with the Felicci family, wealthy Italians who were friends of William’s. Impressed by their deep faith, Elizabeth decided to convert to Catholicsm upon her return to America. She made her professsion of faith in 1805, much to the displeasure of her family. At the behest of Bishop John Carroll, Elizabeth established the her Catholic school in Balitmore in 1808, which was open to all students regardless of their family’s ability in pay. In 1809 she founded the Daughters of Charity in Emmitsburg, Maryland. Her two boys were educated at Mount St. Mary’s and joined the American navy. Elizabeth lost two of her daughters, Anna and Rebecca, to tuberculosis. Her daughter Katherine survived. Her community spread to New York state, and as far as St. Louis, before she died on January 4, 1821. She was declared a Saint (the first American-born) by Pope Paul VI on September 14, 1975.

From St. Elizabeth’s writings:

O Father, the first rule of our dear Saviour’s life was to do your will. Let his will of the present moment be the first rule of our daily life and work, with no other desire but for its most full and complete accomplishment. Help us to follow it faithfully, so that doing what you wish we will be pleasing to you.

Lord Jesus, who was born for us in a stable, lived for us a life of pain and sorrow and died for us upon the cross; say for us in the hour of death, “Father, forgive,” and to your Mother, “behold your child.” Say to us, “This day you shall be with me in paradise.” Dear Saviour, leave us not, forsake us not. We thirst for you, Fountain of Living Water. Our days pass quickly along; soon all will be consummated for us. To your hands, we commend our spirits, not and forever. Amen.

St. Elizabeth Ann Seton is one of my favorite saints. I’ve seen the movie A Time for Miracles many times, and it helps butress my own feeling of vocation. In my ideal life, I would like to be her–married to a man she loved, children, a nun, a foundress, a teacher, etc. Her life was hard, I know. But still, she encompassed every part of a woman’s life in a truly unique way.

In grade school my parents took us to Emmitsburg to see St. Elizabeth’s home and school. You can still see the original school house she and the sisters used. St. Elizabeth is buried on the property, along with her children. It is a beautiful and peaceful place.

Some links:

On her life

Seton shrine in NYC (lower Manhattan)

The Emmitsburg Shrine (National shrine)

Protestants have “Ave Maria” sung at their weddings?

Yes, it’s a lovely song. It’s sort of entered the standard wedding repetoire. But they do know what it’s saying, right? And that their churches completely reject what’s being sung?

Just curious.

Sometimes, when I’m home and bored I like to poke around Wikipedia. Today I stumbled across the entry for the Lutheran Church–Missouri Synod (LCMS), which I am familiar with, having several friends who are of this denomination. There was a link to their official website . Once there, I found a link to the differences between Catholicism and the LCMS church. Well, I was a bit curious. I decided to check this out, because I have long wondered where, precisely, some of my friends had gotten their rather strange ideas of Catholicism.

The page lists 8 issues that are listed in the form of questions. A few of the points I found, um, interesting: my comments in bold

• Q. I would like to understand the main problem your church body has with the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification (signed October 31 by representatives of the Lutheran World Federation and the Roman Catholic Church). Is it the fact that it implies that we are saved as a result of both faith and works? A. Yes, you are on the right track here. The recently signed Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification (JDDJ) does not signal a change in the Roman Catholic church, but rather, a willingness on the part of the Lutherans who signed it to allow Rome’s doctrine of justification to stand as a valid interpretation of what the Bible teaches us about justification. This is something that the Lutheran church has never done before, and in fact, it is a great tragedy and a profoundly sad moment in the history of Lutheranism.

  Rome historically has always taught that we are saved by grace, and grace alone. They emphasize that very strongly. The 16th century Council of Trent makes this point very clear. Thus, there is nothing new on this in the Declaration on this point, even though some Lutherans have made it sound as if Rome’s words about grace signal some marvelous breakthrough.

  What you probably have not heard is that the JDDJ very carefully avoid precise definitions of the words grace, faith, sin, etc. That is no accident. Careful definition of those terms would have shown how far apart our two churches actually are on the doctrine of justification.

  The problem with Rome’s view of justification is that they view it as a process, whereby we cooperate with God’s grace in order to merit eternal life for ourselves, and even for others (that is a paraphrase of what the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches). They view grace as a sort of “substance” that God infuses into us that permits us to do those works that are necessary in order that we might earn more grace. The Bible describes grace as the loving and favorable disposition of God; in other words, grace is all about what God is doing and giving.

  We distinguish between the result of justification, which is the Christian life, and the work of God to save us. Rome mixes sanctification with justification. Why is this view troublesome? Because it teaches that something other than trust in Christ is necessary for or salvation. That “something other” is what we bring to the table. And the only thing we do bring to the table is our sin, not our good works. Our works are a response that God works in us, but not a contributing cause to our justification.

  The Roman Catholic Church is very careful to state that even this “something other” is made possibly only because God has given us the “initial” grace to desire more grace. But in practical reality, it is apparent that the Roman Catholic Church is finally throwing people back on relying on what they are doing, or can do, to merit eternal life. When we mix in our works in the picture of our salvation, the glory and merit of Christ always end up becoming obscured.

  But the Bible is clear that it is purely by grace, not by works, or else grace would just be a “help” for us to do the works that finally are what merit God’s forgiveness. In the Roman Catholic view, justification is a process by which we participate with God in achieving our salvation. The Biblical view is that justification is God’s declaration of our complete righteousness and total forgiveness, apart from any works. This gift is received by faith alone–apart from works (Rom. 3:28; Eph. 2:8-9). (Gee, seems like we’re missing James 2:14-26…cite below)
  Another point to be made is this: If, in fact, Rome does teach justification as the Bible teaches it, then there should be an immediate change in its view of indulgences, prayer to the saints and the myriad of other extra-biblical traditions that it has embraced. (ARGH!) For if justification is the heart and center of the Bible, then these other things are incompatible with it.

James 2:14-26: What does it profit, my brethern, if a man says he has faith but has not works? Can his faith save him? If a brother or sister is ill-clad and in lack of daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what does it profit? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.

But some will says, “You have faith and I have works.” Show me your faith apart from your works, and I by my works will show you my faith. You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe–and shudder. Do you want to be shown, you foolish fellow, that faith apart from works is barren? Was not Abraham our father justified by works, when he offered his son Issac upon the altar? You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was completed by works, and the scripture was fulfilled with says, “Abraham believed in God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness”; and he was called the friend of God. You see that man is justified by works and not by faith alone. And in the same way was not also Rahab the harlot justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out another way? For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so faith apart from works is dead.”

But then again, Luther called this epistle an “epistle of straw”, probably because it doesn’t go along with sola fide.

2) Indulgences changed somewhere around the 17th century. They may want to investigate this.

3) Prayer to the saints–we’ll cover this in another post. There’s just too much here, except to say it is NOT extrabiblical!

Q. What is limbo and what religious group believes in it? Is it like what Catholics call purgatory? A. The Concise Evangelical Dictionary of Theology states the following under the entry on “limbo”: Roman Catholic concept adduced by medieval theologians as the place or state of those souls after death who did not fit into either heaven or hell. In fact there were two limbos. The limbo of the fathers (limbus patrum) was for the souls of OT saints; Christ’s descent into hell in the creed was interpreted as his liberating these souls and taking them to heaven. More important was the limbo of unbaptized infants (limbus infantum), a perpetual state free from the pain of sense but without supernatural salvation and the enjoyment of God” (283). Purgatory is the Roman Catholic “concept of an intermediate realm where all those who die at peace with the church but who are not perfect must undergo penal and purifying suffering. Only those believers who have attained a state of Christian perfection are said to go immediately to heaven” (408). Your local library would perhaps have a copy of the Roman Catholic Catechism, so that you could check out exactly what is said by the church on these topics.

This isn’t too bad, except, um, that B XVI has talked about limbo and clarified it. There’s more in my archives if you want to dig it up.

 

Q. I have been reading a book that has a section on the Roman Catholic Church in which the author talks about mortal and venial sins. My question is: What do we in the LCMS have to say on the subject or is this something that was made up by the Church in the past? I always understood that sin is sin–period.

A. Lutherans reject the complicated, philosophical notions the Roman Catholic Church has developed regarding mortal and venial sins. We recognize that ALL sin has the same consequence in the life of unbelievers: eternal damnation in hell. The Roman church teaches that certain actual sins are venial in themselves and do not deserve eternal punishment, but only temporal punishment. (huh?) 

Another critical problem with the Roman view of mortal sin is that in the past they attempted to include as a mortal sin a failure to observe a regulation of the Pope! This, of course, is absurd and is a subject about which the Lutheran Confessions in the Book of Concord have quite a bit to say.

It is not only the Roman Church that holds false views about mortal and venial sins. Arminian theology also tends to embrace similar views of venial sins, that is, the view that some sins actually carry no threat of eternal punishment. The Calvinists teach that, in the case of the elect, even grave, enormous sins–mortal sins–cannot destroy faith nor deprive them of the Holy Spirit. (See the statements from the Canon of the Synod of Dort ). Roman scholastic theologians attempted actually to number seven sins as mortal sins: pride, covetousness, riotous living, anger/wrath, envy/jealousy, apathy toward God and His Word. (sigh. Those are the ‘Deadly’ sins, which, yes, is technically what ‘mortal’ means. But those aren’t the only ones. And these aren’t even right, for starters!)
In spite of the errors associated with false distinctions and understandings between mortal and venial sins, sins may be discussed properly as either mortal sins or venial sins.

Mortal sins are those sins that result in the eternal death of the sinner. This term mortal sins includes all sins of unbelievers, since without faith, they are without hope of eternal salvation.

In the case of believers, those sins are called mortal that force the Holy Spirit to depart from one’s heart and life–sins that destroy faith. Venial sins are sins which, though they in themselves merit eternal death, are daily forgiven to the believer. Venial sins are perhaps better called “sins of weakness.” They do not drive away the Holy Spirit, and do not extinguish faith.

Definition of mortal sin: Knowledge (you know it’s a mortal sin); Free Will (you do it willingly), grave matter (it’s a big thing–like murder, skipping Mass, etc.). Not everything, therefore, falls under this category. Telling a white lie is not the same thing as killing someone. Yes, both damage your relationship with God, but not in the same way. It’s like spraining your ankle and breaking it. In both cases, you’re hurt, but not in the same way. And one is a lot easier to repair than the other.

As the Catholic Encyclopedia says:

While every mortal sin averts us from our true last end, all mortal sins are not equally grave, as is clear from Scripture (John 19:11; Matthew 11:22; Luke 6), and also from reason. Sins are specifically distinguished by their objects, which do not all equally avert man from his last end. Then again, since sin is not a pure privation, but a mixed one, all sins do not equally destroy the order of reason. Spiritual sins, other things being equal, are graver than carnal sins. (St. Thomas, “De malo”, Q. ii, a. 9; I-II, Q. lxxiii, a. 5).

(But you know, Catholics don’t know scripture!)

Disobeying the Pope is a matter of degree, which seems to be lost by the writers of this answer. If you disobey an infallible, ex cathedra teaching, that’s different than saying you disagree with the Pope on what he says about war, for example. I also love the “in the past” part–for the Catholic Church, that could be 400 years ago, or more. But there’s no clarification there.

Q. What’s the Lutheran response to the Roman Catholic teaching of purgatory?

A. Lutherans have always rejected the traditional Roman Catholic teaching regarding purgatory because 1) we can find no Scriptural basis for it and 2) it is inconsistent, in our view, with the clear teaching of Scripture that after death the soul goes directly either to heaven (in the case of a Christian) or hell (in the case of a non-Christian), not to some “intermediate” place or state.

 Well now, if you all hadn’t gotten rid of 2 Maccabees from your Bible, you’d have biblical back-up. For example (again, Catholic Encyclopedia);

Old Testament

The tradition of the Jews is put forth with precision and clearness in 2 Maccabees. Judas, the commander of the forces of Israel,

making a gathering . . . sent twelve thousand drachmas of silver to Jerusalem for sacrifice to be offered for the sins of the dead, thinking well and religiously concerning the resurrection (For if he had not hoped that they that were slain should rise again, it would have seemed superfluous and vain to pray for the dead). And because he considered that they who had fallen asleep with godliness, had great grace laid up for them. It is therefore a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from sins. (2 Maccabees 12:43-46)

At the time of the Maccabees the leaders of the people of God had no hesitation in asserting the efficacy of prayers offered for the dead, in order that those who had departed this life might find pardon for their sins and the hope of eternal resurrection.

New Testament

There are several passages in the New Testament that point to a process of purification after death. Thus, Jesus Christ declares (Matthew 12:32): “And whosoever shall speak a word against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven him: but he that shall speak against the Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, nor in the world to come.” According to St. Isidore of Seville (Deord. creatur., c. xiv, n. 6) these words prove that in the next life “some sins will be forgiven and purged away by a certain purifying fire.” St. Augustine also argues “that some sinners are not forgiven either in this world or in the next would not be truly said unless there were other [sinners] who, though not forgiven in this world, are forgiven in the world to come” (De Civ. Dei, XXI, xxiv). The same interpretation is given by Gregory the Great (Dial., IV, xxxix); St. Bede (commentary on this text); St. Bernard (Sermo lxvi in Cantic., n. 11) and other eminent theological writers.

A further argument is supplied by St. Paul in 1 Corinthians 3:11-15:

“For other foundation no man can lay, but that which is laid; which is Christ Jesus. Now if any man build upon this foundation, gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay stubble: Every man’s work shall be manifest; for the day of the Lord shall declare it, because it shall be revealed in fire; and the fire shall try every man’s work, of what sort it is. If any man’s work abide, which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man’s work burn, he shall suffer loss: but he himself shall be saved, yet so as by fire.”

While this passage presents considerable difficulty, it is regarded by many of the Fathers and theologians as evidence for the existence of an intermediate state in which the dross of lighter transgressions will be burnt away, and the soul thus purified will be saved. This, according to Bellarmine (De Purg., I, 5), is the interpretation commonly given by the Fathers and theologians; and he cites to this effect:

• St. Ambrose (commentary on the text, and Sermo xx in Ps. cxvii),
• St. Jerome, (Comm. in Amos, c. iv),
• St. Augustine (Comm. in Ps. xxxvii),
• St. Gregory (Dial., IV, xxxix), and
• Origen (Hom. vi in Exod.).

See also St. Thomas, “Contra Gentes,”, IV, 91. For a discussion of the exegetical problem, see Atzberger, “Die christliche Eschatologie”, p. 275.

This might take the cake as my favorite answer:

Q. A non-Lutheran Christian friend of mine recently stated that he believes that Catholics are not saved and should not be considered Christians. What is the Synod’s belief regarding the salvation of Catholics who adhere to Roman dogma?

A. The LCMS recognizes all Trinitarian church bodies as Christian churches (in contrast to “cults,” which typically reject the doctrine of the Trinity and thus cannot be recognized as Christian). In fact, a primary “objective” listed in the Synod’s Constitution (Article III) is to “work through its official structure toward fellowship with other Christian church bodies”—which explicitly assumes that these “other church bodies” are “Christian” in nature. That does not lessen the Synod’s concern for the false doctrine taught and confessed by these churches, but it does highlight the Synod’s recognition that wherever the “marks of the church” (the Gospel and Sacraments) are present—even where “mixed” with error—there the Christian church is present. Such a church is a heterodox church, that is, a church that teaches false doctrine.

Of course, personal salvation is not merely a matter of external membership in or association with any church organization or denomination (including the LCMS), but comes through faith in Jesus Christ alone. All those who confess Jesus Christ as Savior are recognized as “Christians” by the Synod—only God can look into a person’s heart and see whether that person really believes. It is possible to have true and sincere faith in Jesus Christ even while having wrong or incomplete beliefs about other doctrinal issues.

Yup, the Church of Jesus Christ, founding by Him, the only church with a line that goes back to the Apostles, is “wrong or incomplete” and “heterodox.”

And I just love how we’re called “Rome” or “The Roman Church” throughout. It would be nice if they could extend us the courtesy of calling us “Catholics” or “Catholicism.”

More on this tomorrow–saints, Mary, etc! The Greatest Hits roll on….

We think that if God loved us, then He’d sort of “leave us alone”; that is, we’d have enough money, perfect health, etc., etc. Everything would be easy. But if you look at the lives of those God and Jesus loved, it was the exact opposite. Mary was told at Jesus’ presentation that a sword would pierce her heart. John, the “beloved disciple”, died in exile on Patmos. Peter and some of the other apostles were crucified. How many saints had illness, the “dark night”, doubt, pain, fear? Almost all of them. Look at Jesus himself, the “beloved Son”–crucified. For love of us. God’s love is, to our human way of thinking,a funny kind of love. But we have to remember that His knowledge is perfect. He wants us to be with Him in Heaven, and if that takes discomfort and pain, etc., then that’s what it takes. And it doesn’t take that for everyone. I’m re-reading St. Teresa of Avila’ s The Interior Castle, and in her discussion of the First Mansion, she discusses this point, saying, “there are different way of being in this castle”; she writes later that “if we start with the false principle of wishing God to follow our will and to lead us in the way we think best, upon what firm foundation can this spiritual edifice rest?” RTusting God is vital. But that doesn’t mean we can’t doubt. Mother Angelica said

Don’t worry if you have doubts. Doubts do not displease God. They are permitted by Him–permitted to bring out the depth of faith within us.

But this was all just one part of the Gospel. The other part, the first part, about not being afraid of what to say because Jesus will give us the words, is what I’ve been dealing with lately. So many people seem to want to blunt God’s truth and what His Church teaches. They want balance. They want other ideas presented. This is not a political arena. There are no other sides in the Catholic Church. There is right, and there is wrong. There is sin, and there is virtue. There is Heaven, there is Hell (well, OK, Purgatory too, but you know what I mean). I know people who want to present sin, heresy, blasphemy (all good old-fashioned words we’re too afraid to use anymore) as “alternatives” or “other ideas” or “balance.” Well, there isn’t balance when we’re talking faith. God will keep us from error, but I don’t want to have my parish end up like some Protestant denominations, who write statements like (and I’m paraphrasing), “abortion is bad, but if you really need to have one, then you should be able to. (Side note: What other sin do we talk about like this? None. We don’t say, “well murder is bad, but if you really need to kill someone, do it.” “Well, stealing is bad, but if you need to..” “adultery is bad, but…” Only abortion. Funny.) NO.

One among the many things I love about Catholicism is its total definitiveness. There is right and wrong. Black and white. This is what is good, and this is what is not. There’s no wishy-washy beating ’round the bush. You know what’s going on, and if you don’t, get thee to your CCC. If you’re Catholic, be Catholic. Believe what we believe hook, line and sinker. Or go find a church that believes what you believe. To pull the name of a blog, “The cafeteria is closed.” No more of this balance talk. We have to talk truth.

Seen on the sign of the Lutheran Church down the road from my parish:

REFORMATION SUNDAY

LOTS OF SPECIAL MUSIC!

Etc., etc. with times, and a mention of food.

OK, um, wow.

First off, why is there even Reformation Sunday? Yes, I know it’s “technically” the day their denominationw as founded. But basically it’s a slap in the face to Catholics, akin to saying, “boy are we glad we purified our church and separated from all those heretic losers!”   Can you imagine if Catholics celebrated something akin to that? The uproar would be incredible. 500 years after the fact it seems like we’d be sort of past this, right?

When I went to Capital (a technically “Lutheran” school), they always celebrated Reformation Sunday, and it made me think, “how ironic, given that half your student population is Catholic.”  For a religion that preaches love and brotherhood and tolerance and all that good stuff, this doesn’t seem like any of those things.

They went their way. We went ours. Can we move on?
As a side note: do any other Protestant denominations celebrate this? Or is it just the Lutherans?

Side note 2: I know it’s cliche, but seriously, my best friends are  Lutheran. One of them has a brother-in-law who is a Pastor. So it’s not like I don’t know any. And I’m sure that for many of them it’s not an “in your face” kind of thing. But it still bugs me that the denomination continues to have this. If you want to celebrate Martin Luther’s birthday, or whatever, go ahead. But do we need to have “Reformation Sunday”? Please.

Side note– the Assumption (August 15) is celebrated in the Lutheran Liturgical Calendar. Rather ironically, it’s listed as a “lesser festival.” I don’t know a whole lot about Luther, but one of the things I do know is that he kept his devotion to Mary his entire life. So the idea that the Mother of God is relegated to Christmas and a “lesser festival” is ironic.

( A quick web search revealed some Protestant papers trying to debunk the idea that Luther was devoted to Mary in a Catholic sense. The one paper I actually read actually contains several confirmations of Catholic Marian doctrine. So I think that there may be some misunderstandings vis a vis Catholic Mariology here. But I digress.)

So, for posterity, I am recording what to DO and NOT to do if you are not Catholic and yet find yourself in a Catholic Church (note: these are guidelines for a general Mass. There’s no way I’m going into all the possible variations for feasts and solemnities and Holy Week and Christmas and what have you. But these’ll get you through).

1. When you enter Mass, you’ll notice people dipping their right hand in the holy water fonts by the doors and making the sign of the cross. This is to remind us of our baptism and note that we are entering a holy place. Do it or don’t do it–up to you.

2. When a Catholic enters the pew, he will not just slouch in (or he shouldn’t!). He will genuflect towards the tabernacle, make the sign of the cross, and then take his seat, acknowledging the True Presence of Christ in the consecreated hosts that are stored in the tabernacle. Again, up to you.

3. Most Catholics will then kneel and pray. Mass is preceded by five minutes of “sacred silence”, so this is not the time to ask your neighbor what he thought of the latest Jennifer Aniston flick. Look through the hymnals and books available; one of them will probably have an Order of the Mass, with the congregation’s responses notes, so you can follow along.

4. Mass begins with an opening hymn and procession. Stand up. NOTE: Catholics do not sing in four-part harmony! The quickest way to reveal Protestant roots is to begin singing the Alto/Tenor/ Bass/ your own harmony line to “The Church’s One Foundation.” This is particularly true if the opening hymn is “A Mighty Fortress”. Only Catholic choirs sing four-part–the congregation doesn’t. Don’t do it.

And Catholics and Protestants do not have the exact same hymnal, so don’t expect to know every hymn.

5. Introductory rites: The priest opens the Mass with “The Lord be with you”. Then we have the penintential rite (”Lord have Mercy”/ “Christ have Mercy”/ “Lord have Mercy”). Unless it’s Lent or Advent, the Gloria (”Glory to God in the highest/ And peace to His people on Earth”), which is sung, follows. This is similar to the “Hymn of Praise” some Protestants sing, although the words are totally different.

6. Then we have the opening prayer. Sit.

7. The Liturgy of the Word: First reading, from the O.T. (or Acts/ Revelation, depending on the feast/ season) Notice “reading”, not “lesson”. The response after the reading is “Thanks be to God.”

8. Responsorial Psalm: Sung by the cantor or small group (if small group, could be in four-part harmony). The cantor will sing the refrain and the congregation repeats it after each verse. It’s usually a psalm, but could be another scripture verse.

9. Second reading–an epistle.

10. Gospel Acclamation (stand): Unless it’s Lent, some form of “Alleluia”. Same protocol as Pslam. If it’s Lent, then it’s “Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ / King of endless Glory!” (no Alleluia during Lent)

11. Gospel. The priest/deacon will say, “The Lord be with you”. Response: “And also with you”. The priest will then announce the reading, which the congregation will reply to with “Glory to you, Lord” while making the sign of the cross on their foreheads, lips, and heart, to remind them to keep Christ always present in these areas. The Gospel is then proclaimed. At the end, the congregation replies, “Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.” Sit.

12. The Homily, NOT the sermon. Not the most important part of Mass, thus is short. A reflection on the readings of the day and how they apply to our daily lives.

13. Stand for the Creed-usually the Nicene, but occasionally the Apostles’.

14. Intercessions–when the reader/ deacon reads the prayer requests of the faithful. Response is “Lord, hear our prayer.”

15. Liturgy of the Eucharist begins–this happens EVERY SUNDAY. The gifts are brought up to the altar, the altar is prepared for Communion, and a hymn is sung. Offetory (ie, the envelope baskets) is also taken at this time. We’re sitting at this point. There is usually a hymn sung.

16. Stand for the preface to the Eucharistic Prayer. Note that this can be chanted. If everyone around you starts chanting (it seems that we Catholics are born with an extra chip in our head that allows us to do monochant without much of a problem), just join in if you’re comfortable, and stay silent if you’re not.

17. Followed by the “Holy,” which is sung.

18. Now everybody kneels (!) for the Eucharistic Prayer. Eucahristic Prayer I is the longest and usually reserved for special feasts. Usually you’ll get 2 or 3, which are shorter. This can also be chanted.

19. After the Consecration, the “Memorial Acclaimation” (Christ has died / Christ is risen / Christ will come again) is sung.

20. The Eucharistic Prayer finishes, leading to the Doxology (Though Him / With Him /In Him/ In the Unity of the Holy Spirit / All Glory and Honor is yours, Almight Father / Forever and Ever) followed by the Great Amen.

21. Stand. The “Our Father” is prayed. NOTE: The Catholic “Our Father” does NOT segue right into “for the kingdom”. This is the surest sign that there’s a Protestant in our midst.  When I was a cantor in college, we always (well, almost always) had Protestant organists (it was a Protestant school, after all) and the first time they would play for us they would give themselves away by going right into it, then stopping abruptly when they realized they were the only ones going on. We say it after the priest gives a brief prayer.

22. The Sign of Peace. Everyone hugs or shakes hands or kisses (depending on the level of affinity) with the people around them.

23. The “Lamb of God”.

24. Kneel again. Time for Communion. The priest distributes Communion to the Eucharistic Ministers and the distribution begins. Hymns are sung throughout, or a piece by the choir. Some churches only do vocal music after Communion is finished as a “song of praise”. Whatever.

This is the big sticking point: Catholic doctrine says that you shouldn’t receive communion if you’re not Catholic. The reason is simple: Catholics see the Eucharist as a sign of their oneness in Faith. When you receive Eucharist, the exchange is thus: the distributor says “The Body/ Blood of Christ” and you answer “Amen”. The “Amen” implies that you believe what was just told to you. If you don’t, then you’re essentially committing blasphemy by taking it. That’s not cool. If you’re not united with the Catholic Church and don’t believe what we believe, then why would you want to receive Eucharist? But some of you will do it anyway, and I will tell you that the Church floor won’t open and God won’t smite you with thunder (at least I’ve never seen it) but it’s not generally accepted practice. It is quite acceptable to remain in your seat in silent prayer while everyone else receives. You won’t be the only one sitting there, trust me.

25. After Communion, people kneel until the priest/ deacon is seated and the altar servers begin clearing the altar. Sit.

26. Stand. The Prayer After Communion is given. Annoucements (if any) are read.

27. Final blessing.

28. Closing hymn–you stay until the hymn is over!! I don’t care if the choir is launching into all 11 verses of “O Sons and Daughters”–you stay!!! It’s polite! And it’s not the Indy 500 out in the parking lot, anyway!

That, my friends, is the Order and Etiquette of the Catholic Mass. A few other points:

–no gum chewing, please. Or eating in general. You are supposed to have fasted for one hour prior to attending Mass, anyway.
–wear nice clothes, i.e. not ripped jeans or a trampy t-shirt or something with inappropriate messages (i.e., a shirt with a Darwin fish wouldn’t fly). Remember it’s God’s house you’re visiting.
–Refrain from any and all snide comments about the Faith during Mass!
–Catholics do not bring Bibles to Church–the priest doesn’t announce a particular verse that he’s preaching on and have everyone open up. You may see some Catholics with St. Joseph’s Missals, which give the Order of the Mass and the readings for the particular day. That’s not the same thing.
–The Homily will most likely be under 10 minutes. Shocking, I know.
–Catholic Churches don’t pass out bulletins with the reading in them. These readings can normally be found in one of the books in the pews/

Hope this was helpful–Catholics, let me know if I’ve left anything out.

No.

And Amy explains why.