A Heretical Pope?

 by
 Michael Davies

[Note: There has been some discussion lately regarding the opinion of St. Robert Bellarmine on the possibility of a manifestly heretical pope. Some involved in the discussion are apparently operating under the assumption that St. Robert's views are just now coming to light, and represent something of a 'silver bullet' to end all refutations of the sedevacantist position. The following article by the late Michael Davies, reproduced here without comment, should help to clear up any confusion on the matter. - RC]

***

Michael Davies
(1936-2004)

Claims have been made that one or more of the "conciliar popes", that is to say Pope John XXIII and his successors, were heretics and therefore forfeited the papacy. Those who include Pope John Paul II in this category claim that we have no pope and that therefore the Holy See is vacant, sedes vacante, which is why such people are referred to as "sedevacantists". They claim that this poses no theological problem as the Holy See is vacant during the interregnum between pontificates. Some of these interregna have been very long, the longest being a vacancy of two years nine months between the death of Clement IV in 1268 and the election of Gregory X in 1271. In such cases, the visibility of the Church is not impaired in any way as the Holy See is administered by the Cardinal Camerlengo until a new pope is elected. The Camerlengo, or Chamberlain of the papal court, administers the properties and revenues of the Holy See, and during a vacancy those of the entire Church. Among his responsibilities during a vacancy are those of verifying the death of the Pope and organizing and directing the conclave.

Thus, even when the Chair of Peter is not occupied, the visible, hierarchical nature of the Church is maintained.^[1] Thus the situation during such an interregnum cannot be compared to the situation that the Church would be in if Pope John Paul II is not the legitimately reigning pontiff as there would be no visible source of authority capable of convoking a conclave to elect a new pope.

The theological weakness of sedevacantism is an inadequate concept of the nature of the Church. Without realizing it, they believe in a Church which can fail - and such a Church is not the Church founded by Our Lord Jesus Christ. The Church that He founded cannot fail, for it is indefectible (i.e. it cannot fail). It will continue to exist until the Second Coming as a visible, hierarchically governed body, teaching the truth and sanctifying its members with indubitably valid sacraments. To state that we have no pope is to claim that the Church is no longer visible and hierarchically governed, which, in effect, means that it has ceased to exist. Catholic theologians accept that a pope could lose his office through heresy, but it would have to be such notorious heresy that no doubt concerning the matter could exist in the minds of the faithful, and a statement that the Pope had deposed himself would need to come from a high level in the Church, most probably a general Council. Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre warned in 1979.

The visibility of the Church is too necessary to its existence for it to be possible that God would allow that visibility to disappear for decades. The reasoning of those who deny that we have a pope puts the Church into an inextricable situation. Who will tell us who the future pope is to be? How, as there are no cardinals, is he to be chosen? The spirit is a schismatical one. [...] And so, far from refusing to pray for the Pope, we redouble our prayers and supplications that the Holy Ghost will grant him the light and strength in his affirmations and defense of the Faith.

The question of whether the Holy See is vacant must be considered from three aspects, that is: whether a pope could become an heretic and forfeit his office; what constitutes heresy; and whether any of the conciliar popes can be considered to be heretics within the context of this definition.

1. Can a pope forfeit his office through heresy?

The problem which would face the Church if a legitimately reigning pope became an heretic has been discussed in numerous standard works of reference. The solution is provided in the 1913 edition of The Catholic Encyclopedia:

The Pope himself, if notoriously guilty of heresy, would cease to be pope because he would cease to be a member of the Church.^[2]

Many theologians have discussed the possibility of a pope falling into heresy, and the consensus of their opinion concurs with that of The Catholic Encyclopedia. The Pope must evidently be a Catholic, and if he ceased to be a Catholic he could hardly remain the Vicar of Christ, the head of the Mystical Body. St. Robert Bellarmine taught:

The manifestly heretical pope ceases per se to be pope and head as he ceases per se to be a Christian and member of the Church, and therefore he can be judged and punished by the Church. This is the teaching of all the early Fathers.^[3]

Saint Robert was, of course, discussing a theoretical possibility, and believed that a pope could not become an heretic and thus could not be deposed, but he also acknowledged that the more common opinion was that the pope could become an heretic, and he was thus willing to discuss what would need to be done if, per impossible, this should happen:

This opinion (that the Pope could not become an heretic) is probable and easily defended. [...] Nonetheless, in view of the fact that this is not certain, and that the common opinion is the opposite one, it is useful to examine the solution to this question, within the hypothesis that the Pope can be an heretic.^[4]

The great Jesuit theologian, Francisco de Suarez (1548-1617) was also sure that God’s "sweet providence" would never allow the one who could not teach error to fall into error, and that this was guaranteed by the promise Ego autem rogavi pro te ... (Luke 22: 32). But, like Bellarmine, Suarez was willing to consider the possibility of an heretical pope as an hypothesis, particularly in view of the fact, he claimed, that several "general councils had admitted the hypothesis in question."^[5] Saint Alphonsus Liguori (1696-1787) did not believe that God would ever permit a Roman Pontiff to become a public or an occult heretic, even as a private person:

We ought rightly to presume as Cardinal Bellarmine declares, that God will never let it happen that a Roman Pontiff, even as a private person, becomes a public heretic or an occult heretic.^[6]

If, per impossible, a pope became a formal heretic through pertinaciously denying a de fide doctrine, how would the faithful know that he had forfeited his office as he had ceased to be a Catholic? It must be remembered that no one in the Church, including a General Council, has the authority to judge the Popes. Reputable authorities teach that if a pope did pertinaciously deny a truth which must be believed by divine and Catholic faith, after this had been brought to his attention by responsible members of the hierarchy (just as St. Paul reproved St. Peter to his face), a General Council could announce to the Church that the Pope, as a notorious heretic, had ceased to be a Catholic and hence had ceased to be Pope. It is important to note that the Council would neither be judging nor deposing the Pope, since it would not possess the authority for such an act. It would simply be making a declaratory sentence, i.e. declaring to the Church what had already become manifest from the Pope’s own actions. This is the view taken in the classic manual on Canon Law by Father F.X. Wernz, Rector of the Gregorian University and Jesuit General from 1906 to 1914. This work was revised by Father P. Vidal and was last republished in 1952. It states clearly that an heretical Pope is not deposed in virtue of the sentence of the Council, but "the General Council declares the fact of the crime by which the heretical pope has separated himself from the Church and deprived himself of his dignity."^[7] Other authorities believe that such a declaration could come from the College of Cardinals or from a representative group of bishop, while others maintain that such a declaration would not be necessary. What all those who accept the hypothesis of an heretical pope are agreed upon is that for such a pope to forfeit the papacy his heresy would have to be "manifest", as Saint Robert Bellarmine expressed it, that is notorious and public (notorium et palam divulgata).^[8] A notorious offence can be defined as one for which the evidence is so certain that it can in no way be either hidden or excused.^[9] A pope who, while not being guilty of formal heresy in the strict sense, has allowed heresy to undermine the Church through compromise, weakness, ambiguous or even gravely imprudent teaching remains Pope, but can be judged by his successors, and condemned as was the case with Honorius I.

2. What is heresy?

There has never been a case of a pope who was undoubtedly a formal heretic, and it is unlikely in the extreme that there ever will be one. This will become evident if some consideration is given to examining precisely what constitutes formal heresy. The Code of Canon Law defines an heretic as one who after baptism, while remaining nominally a Catholic, pertinaciously doubts or denies one of the truths which must be believed by divine and Catholic faith.^[10] It teaches us that by divine and Catholic faith must be believed all that is contained in the written word of God or in tradition, that is, the one deposit of faith entrusted to the Church and proposed as divinely revealed either by the solemn Magisterium of the Church or by its Ordinary Universal Magisterium.^[11] No teaching is to be considered as dogmatically defined unless this is evidently proved.^[12]

A doctrine is de fide divina et catholica only when it has been infallibly declared by the Church to be revealed by God. Hence this term does not apply to doctrines which one knows to have been revealed by God, but which have not been declared by the Church to have been so revealed (de fide divina); nor to those which the Church has infallibly declared, but which she does not present formally as having been revealed (de fide ecclesiastica); nor to those which the Church teaches without exercising her infallible authority upon them. If a doctrine is not de fide divina et catholica, a person is not an heretic for denying or doubting it, though such a denial or doubt may be grave sin.^[13]

3. The conciliar Popes

It should now be apparent that there is no case whatsoever for claiming that any of the conciliar popes have lost their office as a result of heresy. Anyone wishing to dispute this assertion would need to state the doctrines de fide divina et catholica which any of these popes are alleged to have rejected pertinaciously. There is not one instance which comes remotely within this category. The nearest one can come to a formal contradiction between preconciliar and post-conciliar teaching is the subject of religious liberty. It has yet to be shown how they can be reconciled.^[14] It is possible that the Magisterium will eventually have to present either a correction or at least a clarification of the teaching of Vatican II on this subject. Neither the pre-conciliar teaching nor that of the Council on religious liberty comes within the category of de fide divina et catholica, and so the question of formal heresy does not arise.

Footnotes

[1] Catholic Encyclopedia (New York, 1917), vol. III, p. 217. 

[2] CE, vol. VII, p. 261. 

[3] Saint Robert Bellarmine, De Romano Pontifice (Milan, 1857), vol. II, chap. 30, p. 420.

[4] Ibid., p. 418. 

[5] F. Suarez, De legibus (Paris, 1856), vol. IV, chap. 7, no. 10, p. 361.

[6] Dogmatic Works of St. Alphonsus Maria de Ligouri (Turin, 1848), vol. VIII, p. 720. 

[7] Wernz-Vidal, Jus Canonicum (Rome, 1942), vol II, p. 518. 

[8] Ibid., p. 433. 

[9] Op. cit., note 92, Wernz-Vidal, (Rome, 1937), vol VII, pp. 46-47. 

[10] Code of Canon Law: Old Code, Canon 1325; New Code, Canon 751. 

[11] Denzinger, 1792; CCL: Old Code, Canon 1323; New Code, Canon 750. 

[12] CCL, Old Code, 1323, §3; New Code, 749, §3. 

[13] T. Bouscaren & A. Ellis, Canon Law, A Text & Commentary (Milwaukee, 1958), p. 724. 

[14] M. Davies, The Second Vatican Council and Religious Liberty (The Neumann Press, Minnesota, 1992).

Faith and Error

Sixteenth in a Series on Catholic Morality

 by

 Fr. John H. Stapleton

Intolerance is a harsh term. It is stern, rigid, almost brutal. It makes no compromise, combats à outrance and exacts blind and absolute obedience. Among individuals, tolerance should prevail; man, should be liberal with man, for the Law of Charity demands it. In regard to principles, there must and shall eternally be antagonism between truth and error, for justice demands it. It is a case of self-preservation; one destroys the other. Political truth can never tolerate treason preached or practiced; neither can religious truth tolerate unbelief and heresy preached or practiced.

Now, our faith is based on truth. The Church is the custodian of faith, and the Church, on the platform of religious truth, is absolutely uncompromising and intolerant, just as the State is in regard to treason. She cannot admit error, she cannot approve error; to do so would be suicidal. She cannot lend the approval of her presence, nay even of her silence, to error. She stands aloof from heresy, must always see in it an enemy, condemns it and cannot help condemning it, for she stands for truth, pure and unalloyed truth, which error pollutes and outrages.

Call this what you will, but it is the attitude of honesty first, and of necessity afterwards. "He who is liberal with what belongs to him is generous, he who undertakes to be generous with what does not belong to him is dishonest." Our faith is not founded on an act or agreement of men, but on the revelation of God. No human agency can change or modify it. Neither Church nor Pope can be liberal with the faith of which they are the custodians. Their sole duty is to guard and protect it as a precious deposit for the salvation of men.

This is the stand all governments take when there is question of political truth. And whatever lack of generosity or broad-mindedness there be, however contrary to the spirit of this free age it may seem, it is nevertheless the attitude of God Himself who hates error, for it is evil, who pursues it with His wrath through time and through eternity. How can a custodian of divine truth act otherwise? Even in human affairs, can one admit that two and three are seven?

We sometimes hear it said that this intolerance takes from Catholics the right to think. This is true in the same sense that prisons, or the dread of them, deprive citizens of the right to act. Everybody, outside of sleeping hours and with his thinking machine in good order, thinks. Perhaps if there were a little more of it, there would be more solid convictions and more practical faith. Holy Writ has it somewhere that the whole world is given over to vice and sin because there is no one who thinks.

But you have not and never had the right to think as you please, inside or outside the Church. This means the right to form false judgments, to draw conclusions contrary to fact. This is not a right; it is a defect, a disease. Thus to act is not the normal function of the brain. It is no more the nature of the mind to generate falsehoods than it is the nature of a sewing machine to cut hair. Both were made for different things. He therefore who disobeys the law that governs his mind prostitutes that faculty to error.

But suppose, being a Catholic, I cannot see things in that true light. What then? In such a case, either you persist, in the matter of your faith, in being guided by the smoky lamp of your reason alone, or you will be guided by the authority of God's appointed Church. In the first alternative, your place is not in the Church, for you exclude yourself by not living up to the conditions of her membership. You cannot deny but that she has the right to determine those conditions.

If you choose the latter, then correct yourself. It is human to err, but it is stupidity to persist in error and refuse to be enlightened. If you cannot see for yourself, common sense demands that you get another to see for you. You are not supposed to know the alpha and omega of theological science, but you are bound to possess a satisfactory knowledge in order that your faith be reasonable.

Has no one a right to differ from the Church? Yes, those who err unconsciously, who can do so conscientiously, that is, those who have no suspicion of their being in error. These the heavenly Father will look after and bring safe to Himself, for their error is material and not formal. He loves them but He hates their errors. So does the Church abominate the false doctrines that prevail in the world outside her fold, yet at the same time she has naught but compassion and pity and prayers for those deluded ones who spread and receive those errors. To her, the individual is sacred, but the heresy is damnable.

Thus we may mingle with our fellow citizens in business and in pleasure, socially and politically, but religiously - never. Our charity we can offer in its fullest measure, but charity that lends itself to error, loses its sacred character and becomes the handmaid of evil, for error is evil.

He Abideth With Us

Fourteenth Conference on the Most Sacred Heart

 by

 Fr. Henry Brinkmeyer

In the consecrated Host, Jesus is really present under the species of bread. His divinity and His humanity, His body and His soul, His flesh and His blood: all are there as really, as truly, as substantially, as they are this moment in heaven. Within the little circle of that white Host is the human intellect, the human will, the human memory of Jesus. That old love with all its human and impassioned tenderness, which made Him weep over the children of Jerusalem because they spurned the gift of salvation He came to offer them, that old love is still there in the Eucharist throbbing and trembling in the same kind human Heart. The body which Mary cradled on her bosom that far-off Christmas night, the lips which breathed to the Magdalen, "Go in peace and sin no more," the eyes which rested lovingly upon the rich young man who turned from his high vocation, the hand which blessed little children and traced the mystic writing on the sand, the brow which bled beneath the crown of thorns, the members which yielded to the piercing nails, the gaping wound which told of a heart broken for the sins of men; all are there in the Host which abides ever in its tabernacle home.

When we kneel before the altar, the meek eyes of Jesus are fixed upon us as once they were upon Simon Peter. He reads our poor hearts and He knows if we love Him. With His human ears, He heard the cry of the penitent thief, "Lord, remember me, when Thou comest into Thy kingdom." With these same human ears, he hears every prayer that falters on our lips. "I will not leave you orphans," our Lord said to his apostles. He has kept His word. He has not left us, He is with us forever, to welcome our coming, to listen to our pleadings, to breathe sweet comfort to our weary souls.

There is never a moment that we may not speak to Him, heart to heart. "Behold I am with you all days even to the consummation of the world." We may take to Him the burden of our sorrows, we may confide to Him the secret of our cares. We may choose our own time, and we may linger in His Presence as our love inclines. If our hearts are cold and dry, and we know not what to say, He will take delight even in our silence. He loves us, therefore our mere companionship is a comfort and a joy to this Lover of human souls.

He is our chief Priest: we can confess to Him our sins, our shameful falls, our manifold transgressions, our humiliating weaknesses, our cowardly shrinkings from the claims of duty. 

He is our Judge: before Him, we can examine, unblinded by self-love, our daily lives with all their hidden tendencies to the base things of earth.

He is our Father: trustful as little children, we can reveal to Him our most cherished hopes, our loftiest aspirations.

He is our Counselor: we can ask Him for light to guide us in the perplexing questions that demand from us prudence and decision.

He is our Good Shepherd: when we have strayed away from His loving care and have fed our hungry souls on husks of sin, we can return to Him in sorrow, assured of receiving from His blessed lips the kiss of pardon and peace.

He is our Spouse: He belongs to us, and we belong to Him. Dilectus meus mihi, et ego illi! "Neither is there any other nation so great that hath its gods so nigh unto them, as our God is present to us!"

He is our God: how completely, then, we can annihilate ourselves before Him, worshipping His infinite Perfections, acknowledging Him to be the Master, the Creator, the Lord of life and death - in a word, giving to Him the homage of our soul's profoundest adoration.

How can all this be explained, save by love? There are no obstacles that love cannot surmount, no chains that it cannot sever, no sacrifices that it cannot embrace, in truth, nothing is impossible to love. It requires a miracle for Jesus to be present in all the consecrated Hosts, and in every part of each Host: love works that miracle. It requires a miracle for a body to be without weight, color and extension: love works that miracle. It requires a miracle for flesh and blood to nourish a soul: love works that miracle. It requires a miracle to have the outward appearances of bread without the substance of bread, to have the species of wine without the substance of wine: love works that miracle. It requires a miracle for a human body to be placed at once in different positions, to be borne to the right and to the left, to be laid in linen folds and to be held up before the gaze of the worshippers, to remain in the chalice and to enter the breast of the communicant, but love works that miracle as well.

"Love is stronger than death," and the wounded Heart of Jesus is a victim of love. No wonder that He says by the mouth of His prophet: Deliciae meae esse cum filiis hominum. "My delight is to be with the sons of men." And even though they abandon and despise Him, wandering far into paths of sin, yet does He remain ever in the tabernacle watching for the return of His prodigal sons. This is the reason of the Real Presence in our midst.

The saints understood this. All, without exception, had an intense attraction for the Blessed Sacrament, finding their delight to be in Its presence. Saint Liguori recounts many touching instances of devotion to the Holy Eucharist. At one time for some reason, Saint Aloysius was forbidden to remain long in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. But whenever he passed before It, he felt himself so drawn by the sweet attractions of our Lord, that only with the greatest efforts could he tear himself away; and when constrained to de part he would cry: "O Lord! Let me go. O Lord! Let me go!"

There it was also that Saint Francis Xavier found refreshment in the midst of his arduous labors in India. During the day, he was engaged in traveling, preaching, instructing, visiting the sick and administering the sacraments. At times, indeed, he was so exhausted that it was necessary to support his weary arm while he baptized the Indian neophyte. Yet, at night, he was wont to pass hour after hour before the Blessed Sacrament.

Saint Francis Regis had the same tender love for Jesus on the altar. Ofttimes on finding the church closed, he remained at the door on his knees, exposed to the elements, and there he worshipped our God hidden in the Host.

How tender, above all, was the devotion of Saint Wenceslaus to the Blessed Sacrament! It was his custom to gather the wheat and the grapes to make, with his own hands, the wafers and wine to be used in the Holy Sacrifice. Even on winter nights he frequently sought a church to visit the divine Guest of the tabernacle. These visits, says Saint Liguori, enkindled in his fervent soul such flames of holy love, that this ardor imparted itself to his very body, taking from the snow upon which he walked, its wonted cold; for it is related that the servant who accompanied him on those nightly excursions suffered much from the rigors of the season. On one occasion the holy king, perceiving this, was so moved to compassion, that he ordered the attendant to follow in the foot steps; the servant obeyed and marvelous was the result, for at once a genial warmth was diffused through all his frame.

Oh, how dear every chapel should be to the Christian heart. It is our Lord's dwelling-place; there He remains day after day, to console, enlighten, protect and defend us, to nourish and strengthen our famished souls. Each sacramental shrine is the home and the heaven of myriads of angels who ever surround, like a faithful guard, our patient Eucharistic King. Why may not the children of men find likewise there a paradise of pure delights? Si scires donum Dei. "If thou didst know the gift of God."

O Faith! O Love! I draw near, and weep with angels in the shadow of Christ's altar throne. "Could you not watch one hour with Me?" That voice, trembling down the ages, gives its echo to the silence which lingers around the sanctuary. The generations of earth pass heedlessly by, unconscious of the Prisoner waiting there, bound by chains of love divine. Illumined by His grace, we have seen behind the veil which shrouds Him from the worldling's gaze. We have heard the pleadings of His Sacred Heart. We know His longings to repair the glory of His Father, we know His yearnings to reclaim the souls that stray in paths of sin. 

"Behold this Heart which hath so loved men, that It has exhausted and consumed Itself to testify to them Its love." With these words sounding in our hearts, let us offer ourselves to our injured God as victims of reparation and of love. With generosity of spirit let us promise Him to give and not to count the cost, to fight and not to heed the wounds, to toil and not to seek for rest, to labor with the holy joy of knowing that we do His ever blessed will, and that one day He will be our exceeding great reward.

In Festo Sacratissimi Cordis Jesu

Deus, qui nobis, in Corde Filii tui, nostris vulnerato peccatis, infinitos dilectionis thesauros misericorditer largiri dignaris; concede, quaesumus, ut illi devotum pietatis nostrae praestantes obsequium, dignae quoque satisfactionis exhibeamus officium.

O God, Who mercifully deigns to bestow upon us in the Heart of Thy Son, which was wounded for our sins, the infinite treasures of love, grant, we beseech Thee, that we who pay Him the devout homage of our affection may likewise exhibit a worthy reparation for our sins.

St. Paul in Europe

Reading N°19 in the History of the Catholic Church

 by

 Fr. Fernand Mourret, S.S.

St. Paul dreams of the Macedonian

About the year 51, while St. Paul, the Apostle of the Gentiles, was hesitating at Troas as to what direction he should take, in a dream he saw a Macedonian standing near him and saying to him: "Pass over into Macedonia and help us." The Apostle understood that God was commanding him to turn toward Europe. He decided to cross the sea, accompanied by one who appears for the first time in the narrative and who becomes the annalist of the new Apostolic campaign. It is Luke, a Gentile, a native of Antioch, a physician, a man of intellectual culture, as his writing shows. "With the advent of Luke, something of the Grecian genius found its way into Paul's mind and works. It had gifts to offer him which were unknown in the East, though they were to be found in abundance along these lovely coasts whither the Apostles were steering their course - gifts of harmony, the beauty of sweetness and light."^[1]

The Apostolic group landed successively at Philippi, Thessalonica, Berea, Athens, and Corinth. In all these cities, proud of their great historic memories, but inhabited by people thirsting for religious truth, the missioners' words were listened to eagerly. Wonderful conversions took place in all classes. At Philippi, Thessalonica, Berea, and Corinth, Christian communities were organized. Supernatural gifts - prophecy and the gift of tongues - were manifested in extraordinary abundance. The "Lord's Supper", or the Eucharist, as at Jerusalem and Antioch, there became the central act of worship. In the evening, after sunset, by the light of many lamps,^[2] the Christians met together in a room which usually occupied the uppermost floor of the house. As in the Jewish environment, the liturgy began with a supper which was called the "meal of charity", or agape.

St. Paul's Second Journey

The Greeks, especially the Corinthians, unfortunately introduced a practice of Greek societies that each member should eat at the society's meal what he himself had brought. Hence there arose regrettable abuses against which St. Paul had to protest forcefully.^[3] These abuses hastened the separation of the Eucharist from the agape, which then gradually disappeared from Christian public worship. At the close of the fraternal supper, those who had partaken of it greeted one another with a holy kiss of peace and charity.^[4] The meeting place was no longer, as it had been before, the synagogue, but the home of one of the brethren. "Here they found the true Ark of God, with the indwelling Eucharistic presence; here, too, there was a High Tribunal where every difference was speedily adjusted;^[5] in fine, God's house was a center of social life so beneficent and delightful that to be excommunicated from its pale seemed the most dreadful of all punishments."^[6] Words of thanksgiving were on the lips of all. There was a charm of virtue, a serenity of unexcelled joy. Such brotherhood merited the praise of the pagans, who exclaimed: "See how they love one another."^[7]

Athens alone almost completely resisted the Apostle's preaching and the grace of God. After it had lost its independence, and Greece, which became a Roman province in 146 under the name of Achaia, had Corinth for its capital, Athens was nothing more than a city of schools, as Cambridge and Oxford are today. The only people to be seen there were professors, philosophers, and orators, who spent their time instructing youth.

As in Demosthenes' time, the most frequented place in the city was the Agora. The two philosophies then most in vogue were Epicureanism and Stoicism; their spokesmen were accustomed to meet in the Agora for the discussion of moral questions. Paul makes his appearance there and, from the first words of his address, raises his hearers' thoughts to the idea of the Divinity and His greatness, of the worship that man owes to Him. The serious, touching, confident words of this stranger aroused curiosity, but stirred diverse impressions in his hearers' minds. The followers of Epicurus, observing that the speech was about religious questions, murmured: "What is it that this word sower would say?" The disciples of the Porch, less contemptuous, thought that a new god was being set forth. Finally, curiosity got the better of scoffing skepticism.

Paul Preaching to the Athenians on the Areopagus
Leonard Porter

That the stranger's doctrine might be heard the better, he was invited to go up to the Areopagus, far from the noise of the Agora. There, in the presence of Hellenism's greatest art and her finest memories of the past, Paul delivered that justly admired address which is recorded in the seventeenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles:

Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things you are too superstitious. For, passing by and seeing your idols, I found an altar also, on which was written: "To the unknown God." What therefore you worship, without knowing it, that I preach to you: God, who made the world and all things therein; He being Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands; neither is He served with men's hands, as though He needed anything, seeing it is He who giveth to all life and breath and all things; and hath made of one, all mankind, to dwell upon the whole face of the earth, determining appointed times and the limits of their habitation. That they should seek God, if happily they may feel after Him or find Him, although He be not far from everyone of us; for in Him we live and move and are; as some also of your own poets said: "for we are also his offspring." Being therefore the offspring of God, we must not suppose the divinity to be like unto gold or silver or stone, the graving of art and device of man. And God indeed having winked at the times of this ignorance, now declaring unto men that all should everywhere do penance. Because He hath appointed a day wherein He will judge the world in equity, by the Man whom He hath appointed; giving faith to all, by raising Him up from the dead.^[8]

This mention of Christ's Resurrection, of a miracle so foreign to Greek minds, put an end to the interest and surprise with which at first they listened to the Apostle's words. He was unceremoniously interrupted. The Epicureans and Stoics returned to their speculations about pure morality. Yet a few hearers were moved; such was Dionysius, a member of the celebrated Areopagus - the Church of Paris honors him as its founder - and also a lady of rank, named Damaris.

Nevertheless a step had been taken in the Greek world. The great Apostle, who could be a Jew with the Jews, now makes himself more and more a Greek with the Greeks, to win all to Christ.^[9] This "Hebrew of the Hebrews [...] a Pharisee, the son of Pharisees,"^[10] readily takes his comparisons from the military and civil life of the citizens of the Empire,^[11] adorns his preaching with verses of Aratus, Menander, and Epimenides, and declares his sincere admiration for the Roman peace and the imperial order. Not that he now put his ideal in a new setting. His thought, passing beyond the confines of the Empire, as beyond those of the Jewish world, was limited only by the bounds of that humanity for which his Master had died on the cross. And as he said, in words that seem to have burst forth in flames from his glowing soul, his heart opened to "whatsoever things are true, whatsoever modest, whatsoever just, whatsoever holy, whatsoever lovely, whatsoever of good fame."^[12]

Footnotes

[1] Fouard, St. Paul and his Missions, p. 106.

[2] Acts 20:8.

[3] Cf. 1 Cor. 11:17 f.

[4] Cf. 1 Cor. 16:20; 1 Pet. 5:14.

[5] Cf. 1 Cor. 6:1-7.

[6] Fouard, op. cit., p. 210; cf. 1 Thess. 5:12-21.

[7] Tertullian, Apologeticus, XXXIX.

[8] Acts 17:22-31.

[9] Cf. 1 Cor. 9:21.

[10] Phil. 3:5; Acts 23:6.

[11] Prat, La Théologie de saint Paul, I, 20.

[12] Phil. 4:8.

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Sloth

Fifteenth in a Series on Catholic Morality

 by

 Fr. John H. Stapleton

Accidia (Sloth)
Hieronymus Bosch

Not the least, if the last, of capital sins is sloth, and it is very properly placed; for who ever saw the sluggard or victim of this passion anywhere but after all others: last!

Sloth, of course, is a horror of difficulty, an aversion for labor, pain and effort, which must be traced to a great love of one's comfort and ease. Either the lazy fellow does nothing at all - and this is sloth; or he abstains from doing what he should do while otherwise busily occupied - and this too, is sloth; or he does it poorly, negligently, half-heartedly - and this again is sloth. Nature imposes upon us the law of labor. He who shirks in whole or in part is slothful.

Here, in the moral realm, we refer properly to the difficulty we find in the service of God, in fulfilling our obligations as Christians and Catholics, in avoiding evil and doing good; in a word, to the discharge of our spiritual duties. But then all human obligations have a spiritual side, by the fact of their being obligations. Thus, labor is not, like attendance at mass, a spiritual necessity; but to provide for those who are dependent upon us is a moral obligation and to shirk it would be a sin of sloth.

Not that it is necessary, if we would avoid sin, to hate repose naturally and experience no difficulty or repugnance in working out our soul's salvation. Sloth is inbred in our nature. There is no one but would rather avoid than meet difficulties. The service of God is laborious and painful. The kingdom of God suffers violence. It has always been true since the time of our ancestor Adam, that vice is easy, and virtue difficult; that the flesh is weak, and repugnance to effort, natural because of the burden of the flesh. So that, in this general case, sloth is an obstacle to overcome rather than a fault of the will. We may abhor exertion, feel the laziest of mortals; if we effect our purpose in spite of all that, we can do no sin.

Sometimes sloth takes on an acute form known as aridity or barrenness in all things that pertain to God. The most virtuous souls are not always exempt from this. It is a dislike, a distaste that amounts almost to a disgust for prayer especially, a repugnance that threatens to overwhelm the soul. That is simply an absence of sensible fervor, a state of affliction and probation that is as pleasing to God as it is painful to us. After all where would the merit be in the service of God if there were no difficulty?

The type of the spiritually indolent is that fixture known as the half-baked Catholic - some people call him "a poor stick" - who is too lazy to meet his obligations with his Maker. He says no prayers, because he can't; he lies abed Sunday mornings and lets the others go to Mass - he is too tired and needs rest; the effort necessary to prepare for and to go to confession is quite beyond him. In fine, religion is altogether too exacting, requires too much of a man.

And, as if to remove all doubt as to the purely spiritual character of this inactivity, our friend can be seen, without a complaint, struggling every day to earn the dollar. He will not grumble about rising at five to go fishing or cycling. He will, after his hard day's work, sit till twelve at the theatre or dance till two in the morning. He will spend his energy in any direction save in that which leads to God.

Others expect virtue to be as easy as it is beautiful. Religion should conduce to one's comfort. They like incense, but not the smell of brimstone. They would remain forever content on Tabor, but the dark frown of Calvary is insupportable. Beautiful churches, artistic music, eloquent preaching on interesting topics, that is their idea of religion; that is what they intend religion - their religion - shall be, and they proceed to cut out whatever jars their finer feelings. This is fashionable, but it is not Christian: to do anything for God - if it is easy; and if it is hard - well, God does not expect so much of us.

You will see at a glance that this sort of a thing is fatal to the sense of God in the soul; it has for its first, direct and immediate effect to weaken little by little the faith until it finally kills it altogether. Sloth is a microbe. It creeps into the soul, sucks in its substance and causes a spiritual consumption. This is neither an acute nor a violent malady, but it consumes the patient, dries him up, wears him out, till life goes out like a lamp without oil.

The Sacrifice

Thirteenth Conference on the Most Sacred Heart

 by
 Fr. Henry Brinkmeyer

The Blessed Eucharist is not only a Memorial and a Sacrament, it is also a Sacrifice, and in instituting it as such, our Lord gave another proof of His love for man. What is a sacrifice? Instead of offering you the definition commonly given by theologians, let me rather describe it.

Man must acknowledge that God has absolute dominion over all things, that He can give and take life as He in His adorable wisdom sees fit. Moreover, as a sinner, man must acknowledge his iniquities and show himself willing to submit to any punishment the divine justice may inflict. How do we make this solemn, public recognition of our dependence and sinfulness? By means of sacrifice.

We commonly take things which are adapted to represent or sustain the life of man, and offer them in a public manner to our Maker with a real or equivalent destruction. The things which are offered and destroyed are generally precious, and bear some relation to the life of man, for we wish thereby to express our willingness to consecrate our lives to the service of our Maker, nay, surrender them as an atonement for our guilt. Thus, in the Old Law, living creatures such as kine, lambs and birds were offered, or inanimate objects such as wine, wheat and barley, and, in general, the first fruits of the earth. For instance, they slew a lamb, sprinkled its blood over the altar and the people, and burned its flesh.

Among all nations of antiquity, owing to some vestiges of primitive traditions, there were similar oblations, even among idolatrous people, where virgins and babes were sacrificed. At all times the object offered was destroyed, or at least changed, to show that God is Master of life and death, and to acknowledge that He is the Supreme Sovereign of all things, and that we are absolutely dependent upon Him; in other words, to confess and profess that, as He made all creatures out of nothing, so He has power and right to destroy them, and that we ought to be ready at all times to be treated by Him in whatsoever manner He pleases. Every sacrifice is, therefore, a public recognition of God's dominion over us, and of our total dependence upon Him.

Whenever a sensible object is thus offered and destroyed by a priest in his own name and in the name of his people, it is as much as to acknowledge before the whole world that God is our Master, that He can do with us as He wills, that we are in His hands, as clay in the hands of the potter. And this is the very essence of religion, for all religion, true and false, public and private, interior and exterior, has for object the giving to God the honor due Him the recognition of His absolute sovereignty and dominion. A religion which has no Sacrifice as its chief and central act falls short of a perfect religion and cannot be a divine religion, for it would have in it no act which is distinctively divine; its worship could not strictly be called divine worship. Prayer, thanksgiving, praise, homage, all enter into the object of religion, but these can be offered to a creature. A divine religion ought to embrace an act which can be offered to God alone. Such an act is Sacrifice. Therefore Sacrifice belongs necessarily and essentially to every true religion; there can be no divine public worship without it.

We have, then, need of a Sacrifice. Our divine Lord knew this. For, though His bloody Sacrifice on Mount Calvary was all-sufficient to wash away the sins of the world, and was a full and ample satisfaction for every injury done to God, yet we are bound to pray and deny ourselves, we are bound to receive the sacraments, in order that the merits of our Saviour's death may be applied to our souls and that the graces which He acquired may be bestowed according to our wants and dispositions. Though Jesus suffered and died for us, we cannot be saved unless, by good works, prayers and the sacraments, we apply the fruits of His sufferings and death to our souls.

In like manner, though the Sacrifice of the Cross is the source and the only source of all grace, yet a continual Sacrifice is necessary that the merits of the first Sacrifice may be applied to our souls, and that, to the end of time, we may have a means of approaching God, and of publicly offering Him our supreme homage and adoration. Our Lord, with infinite goodness, made provision for our needs: He instituted the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

Now, let us consider how the Mass is a real Sacrifice; by so doing we shall realize more and more the ineffable love of the Sacred Heart for man, and we shall find that words have no power to express our wonder at the goodness and mercy of that ever adorable Heart.

According to the sacred traditions of every country and every race, a sacrifice was considered the more perfect the more fully it embraced the following conditions:

1. if the victim was real and external;
2. if the victim was innocent and mild;
3. if the victim was destroyed or changed;
4. if the victim was offered by a properly appointed priest;
5. if some shared in the oblation by partaking of what was sacrificed.

Our Lord, in instituting a Sacrifice, would certainly institute a perfect Sacrifice. The Sacrifice of the Mass can be shown to embrace all these five conditions.

First, is the Victim in the Mass something real and external? Yes, it is our Lord Himself, not only as God, but as man. He is there as truly, as really, as substantially as He was on Mount Calvary. Beneath the thin appearances of bread is the body that hung on the cross, beneath the ruddy flash of seeming wine is the blood that trickled from His wounded side. Many saints have beheld Him in the Host as a smiling babe. Though we have not the privilege of seeing Him thus with our eyes of flesh, we do behold Him with the eyes of Faith: we know He is there.

Secondly, is the Victim of our altar innocent? Oh! He is innocence itself. He never knew sin: He is holy, spotless, undefiled. He is the Son in whom the Father is well pleased. Mary was innocent, but innocent by redemption. Jesus alone is innocent by nature: and He is our sin-offering, He is the Victim of sin. "He was wounded for our iniquities," says Isaias, "He was bruised for our sins: the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and by His bruises we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray, everyone hath turned aside into his own way: and the Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all." And is the Victim of our altar mild? He is mildness and sweetness itself. "Learn of Me, because I am meek and humble of heart." He is the Lamb of God! The priest takes Him in his hand and lays Him on the right, and He remains there. He lays Him on the left and He remains there. He places Him on the tongue of the saint or of the sacrilegious communicant, and like a lamb led to slaughter the Victim opens not His mouth. Behold the Lamb of God!

Thirdly, is the Victim destroyed or changed in the Mass? Yes. He is mystically destroyed by the separate consecration of bread and wine: for the form of bread represents the body, the form of wine represents the blood, and the bread and the wine, being separately consecrated and lying separately on the altar, represent the real separation of Christ's blood from His body: the consecration is, therefore, a mystical destruction of the Victim. The Victim is also really changed, because His body and blood are changed into food, not merely into ordinary food, but changed still more, i.e., from a material food into a spiritual food for the soul. This sacramental state of existence borders on annihilation. In the Incarnation, He clothed Himself with the garment of man's mortal flesh. In His sacrifice on the cross, that garment of His flesh was rent from head to foot. In His sacrifice on the altar, that Body is wrapped in the swaddling clothes of the sacred species; it lies helpless and speechless like a child, nay more, it is as if dead, and the species are, as it were, its shroud; still further, it exists and lives, and yet appears to have not even a corporal existence. What an emptying! What an annihilation of self!

Fourthly, who is the priest in the sacrifice of the Mass? On Calvary, Christ was the priest and the victim. In the Mass also, Christ is the priest and the victim. He is the priest, for it is in His name, and by His power, and because of His institution, that the ministers of the Catholic Church can change bread and wine into His adorable flesh and blood. The priest at the altar does not say, 'This is the body of Christ, This is the blood of Christ,' but: "This is My body," and "This is My blood." Christ is the priest forever.

Fifthly, that which is offered and sacrificed should be participated in and partly, at least, consumed by the priest or the people. In the Old Law, even when the victim, called the holocaust, was completely burned, a cake was offered with the holocaust, in order that man might eat and thus communicate in the sacrifice. You know there is such a participation and communion in every Mass. If the people do not communicate, at least the priest does. He always consumes the flesh and the blood of the adorable Victim before him.

Is not all this wonderful? Is not every one of these five conditions an inexplicable mystery of love? Is it surprising that, through the prophet in the Old Law, God glories in this new, clean oblation? How little we reflect upon this sublime truth! With what awe and love and gratitude should we assist at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass! A certain writer says beautifully, and with his words I shall conclude:

The angels were present at Calvary. Angels also are present at the Mass. If we cannot assist with the seraphic love and rapt attention of the angelic spirits, let us worship at least with the simple devotion of the shepherds of Bethlehem, and the unswerving faith of the Magi.

Let us offer to our God the gift of a heart full of love for Him, full of sorrow for our sins, and full of the incense of adoration, praise and thanksgiving for mercies flowing from that Heart Divine, which having loved its own, loved them unto the end.