On Women's Ordination

There has been a lot of debate within the Catholic Church – debates on topics ranging from the moral obligation to recycle, the death penalty, and priestly celibacy. But there is a fundamental difference between these topics and another frequently debated topic: the issue of women’s ordination. The ordination is different from other controversial topics, like priestly celibacy, because while the Church’s position on celibacy can technically change, it’s position on women’s ordination cannot. Unlike priestly celibacy, there is no room for debate or discussion amongst the Church on this: women can never be priests. It simply is not possible. This is not a question of just custom, but infallible truth. This is evident from Catholic Tradition, Sacred Scripture, and from Reason.

When it comes to the Catechism, the section on ordination is pretty clear: "Only a baptized man (vir) validly receives sacred ordination" (CCC 1577). This teaching is rooted in the example of the “Lord Jesus [who] chose men (viri) to form the college of the twelve apostles, and the apostles did the same when they chose collaborators to succeed them in their ministry” (CCC 1577). At this point one may be tempted to point out the example of the disciple Mary Magdalene, but one must note the difference between an apostle and a disciple. Christ did have female disciples, but the Apostles, who received a certain office from Christ Himself during the Last Supper, were all men and they only ordained men. The modern episcopacy is the direct successor to the original Apostles. At no point have women ever been ordained, because of the explicit example of Christ and His immediate successors. “The Church recognizes herself to be bound by this choice made by the Lord himself” (CCC 1577). The Catholic Church does not consider this mere human custom, but the Divine Will of God. “For this reason the ordination of women is not possible” (CCC 1577). This is not a question of the ordination of women being recommended or not, but it is simply not possible. As St. Thomas Aquinas writes in the Summa Theologica, “Wherefore even though a woman were made the object of all that is done in conferring Orders, she would not receive Orders, for since a sacrament is a sign, not only the thing, but the significance of the thing, is required in all sacramental actions” (ST Suppl. IIIae, Q. 39, Art. 1). In other words, someone who is not a validly ordained priest can lead a beautiful prayer service and say the exact words of consecration and do all of the steps properly and reverently, but even after all that, he would just be holding up a piece of bread and a cup of diluted wine, for he has done the external of the Sacrament without having the internal requirements that the externals signify. During the true Holy Sacrifice of the Mass the priest literally becomes Christ for the moment of the act of consecration, with Christ Himself saying the words, not the priest. For Christ to inhabit the person and perform this Sacrifice the person must have a masculine soul and body, for Christ borrows both of them when He performs the Sacrifice. It is thus clear from infallible Church Doctrine that the ordination of women is impossible.

When one opens up and reads his Bible, he will quickly discover this Doctrine is rooted in Sacred Scripture. Referring to the teaching and preaching within the Churches, St. Paul writes, “women should keep silent in the churches. For they are not permitted to speak, but should be subordinate, as even the law says” (1 Corinthians 14:34 RSV). This is partly meant to emphasize that women are not to have spiritual authority over a congregation as men. Again, from St. Paul: “Let the woman learn in silence with all submissiveness. I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over men; she is to keep silent.” (1 Timothy 2:11-12 RSV). The context of this passage is again referring to that of worshipping within Churches. Some may be tempted at this point to argue that St. Paul was sexist and outdated.  They further discredit this statement by arguing that it is not Christ himself saying this, but an apostle of Christ, and saints can be wrong. But this is a grave misunderstanding: for the Church teaches the Doctrine of Biblical Inerrancy: “Since therefore all that the inspired authors or sacred writers affirm should be regarded as affirmed by the Holy Spirit, we must acknowledge that the books of Scripture firmly, faithfully, and without error teach that truth which God, for the sake of our salvation…” (CCC 107). It is impossible for anything within Sacred Scripture to be wrong. This means that the Letters of St. Paul, which are part of Sacred Scripture, cannot err, and to say St. Paul is wrong is to defy the Holy Spirit, or in other words, God. A faithful Christian cannot validly make an argument against inerrant Sacred Scripture.

Finally, the truth of this conviction is apparent through Reason. God created two sexes for a reason, and although they are both equal in dignity, they have different roles. This does not refer simply to manual labor, but to spiritual roles as well. Everyone has a different role while they are on Earth, for God did not create everyone to be equal in virtues, wealth, capabilities, or authority. Not everyone is called to be a priest: not even most men. To quote St. Thérèse of Lisieux, “The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of its scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.” Those who deny this are following the example of Adam and Eve, trying to make themselves gods rather than submit to the one God. There are too many Eves and too many Adams these days, and far too few who emulate Jesus and Mary. Mary was not an apostle: she did not offer the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, but instead received the Eucharist from the hand of St. John. Yet she is now above him, and above all of creation as Queen of Heaven and Earth. She submitted herself to God’s Will as His “handmaid” (Luke 1:38 RSV). While Christ as a man was the one who offered the Bloody Sacrifice on the Cross, she was by the side of the Cross, supporting Him and performing the greatest “active participation” in history. Mary was humble and fulfilled her role perfectly by staying within God’s Will for her, and has thus been set at the highest of creation. The Saints become Saints by doing this, by emulating this complete submission to the Will of God. Both men and women mutually do this, and from it comes their role on Earth: this fulfillment of their role is the source of true happiness, with the reward being in the end Divine Bliss.

Before concluding, there is a significant counterargument to address. Some argue that certain Protestant denominations and the Anglican Church have “ordained” women and thus the Catholic Church ought to naturally follow. The reason why this is not so is simple: the Anglican Church and other Protestant sects are not protected by the Holy Spirit in the way that the Catholic Church is. The Holy Spirit which protects Christ’s Bride from making grave errors such as the ordination of women, meaning it will simply never occur, for God will prevent it. As such, there never has been nor will there ever be a valid woman priest. A woman cannot turn bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. In conclusion, if you are a Catholic, you must subscribe to this Doctrine under the penalty of grave sin. Put more simply, don’t be an Eve, but be like Mary.

A House Fitting for the Lord

You’re stuck shoulder to shoulder with a somewhat familiar face from your orientation group while a voice echoes from the ambo, barely audible over the droning roar of circular fans. The sharp crack of a small rock dropped on the marble floor jolts your mind from the stifling stupor of the late summer heat, if only for a moment. A bead of sweat journeys down your forehead as the grumbling of your stomach recalls the promise of food ere long. Convocation – perhaps, the first time you’ve truly sat in St. Joseph’s Chapel.

This first time formally gathered with your entire class may not have instantly screamed beauty, though it was undoubtedly a charming event. Too often are we caught unaware of the beauty that St. Joseph’s chapel holds. However, I must say, the chapel, although far from the pinnacle of church architecture, maintains a standard of beauty unsurpassed by any other structure on campus – a standard of beauty sacrosanct with the beauty of the Mass celebrated within its walls. A beauty too often buried by apathy. In reality, Church design far surpasses everyday beauty and encompasses a realm of symbolism that encapsulates the whole of salvation history. I invite you to simply observe. If you’re able, take this article and read it in the chapel so you may observe any details I highlight. Let me take you on a tour.

St. Germanus of Constantinople prescribes the standard of a Christian church in his work “Ecclesiastical History and Mystical Contemplation,” pronouncing “The Church is an earthly heaven in which the supercelestial God dwells and walk about.” And we as Catholics know this to be true. Does not our God truly dwell in the tabernacle? Does He not walk about in each of us when we receive His true Body and Blood? Surely, He does. So the Church must then look the part. This is why we see Gold ornamentation a plenty. This is why the predella is constructed from marble. This is why the ceilings lift high as though to somehow mimic the vast glory of Heaven. What houses the glorious must be glorious, if only a mere shred of the glory of the former. The earthly beauty helps our weak mortal minds to conceptualize the incalculable majesty of God – a God truly present in the Church.

Perhaps my favorite feature upon the predella is the ciborium. The four columns support a grand golden canopy, under which is the tabernacle of Christ (though St. Joseph’s Chapel houses the true presence of our Lord off to the left side, a decision I will not discuss here). This ciborium not only supports the majesty of what dwells beneath, but as St. Germanus connects, harkens to the Holy of Holies – the dwelling place of God in the Old Testament, which housed the Ark of the Covenant. This similarity deepens once we recognize that, as the Ark housed the sign of the Mosaic covenant, the tabernacle under the ciborium houses the sign of God’s final covenant, Christ Himself.

The columns, which support this grand canopy hold weight, yet hold a vastly greater host of symbolism. In 1 Kings 6:16 Solomon adorns the temple with “palm trees and open flowers.” Upon closer glance, we see that St. Joseph’s Chapel is similarly adorned: the Corinthian column, with their capitals of foliage rise like the palm trees. Rosettes comprise the backdrop of the stained-glass windows and carved flowers adorn the edges of the octagonal segments on the ceiling. These are not exclusive to St Joseph’s Chapel but adorn most any church, though the symbolism runs deeper than mere decorative similarity. Church tradition holds that this design of churches, and Solomon’s temple reference the Garden of Eden, before the fall. As places of Heaven on Earth, they recall the time when man was closest to God. This perfect, unblemished state of man is paralleled by the neat, orderly rows of the columns, the consistency of the foliage from capital to capital, the seemingly perfect placement of every floral detail. The Church itself strives to be perfect as was the garden before man ate of the forbidden fruit.

Still, there is more to learn from the columns. Notice how the columns are Corinthian, not Ionic like those of Dinand. This differentiates the house of God from merely a house of study. There are two other places on campus, to my knowledge, where Corinthian columns can also be found.  They can be found in Fenwick, for instance, but even more importantly, they can be seen in the interior of Kimball. Why do these similar architectural choices appear in both locations? Well, think — what do Kimball and the chapel have in common? Two things, for me, come to mind – they are both houses of feasts and of celebration. In Kimball we hold banquets and common meals – we eat and are sustained. In the chapel we consume the Body and Blood of Christ – we eat and are sustained. In Kimball we celebrate holidays and events, and in the chapel, we celebrate the most magnificent moment in history: our salvation.

So far, I’ve elucidated some deeper symbolism and ancient significance of the Chapel, however one particular detail, a personal favorite of mine, speaks to more recent church History. If you venture up the steps of the predella and look closely at the marble floors, you’ll notice something peculiar – a thin rectangular strip of marble, a slightly different color from the marble surrounding it. A quick glance, left or right, will tell you why the floor was patched. On either flank are the remnants of the altar rail, a relic from the Church pre-Vatican II. The rail once separated the lay from the priest, maintaining a higher degree of sanctity about the altar. It was a place where only those performing the sacrifice might dare to step. Now, we’ve lost that symbol of deep sanctity, though the altar remains as holy as ever. It’s these little details that go unnoticed, and that many in the Church want to go unnoticed, that speak to the true sanctity of the place, as well as the historical operations of the church.

As the altar rail (or the remnant thereof) tells us, the congregation of the Church stands removed from the altar. The altar is the place of God, the pews are the place of people. What great reminders of this are the beautiful stained-glass windows that flank the walls depicting Confessors on one side and Martyrs on the other. We stand, not only amid those other people present with us at Church in the moment, but with the entire congregation of the Church in Heaven as well. What great company to dwell with us!  Yet, they are, like us, nowhere near the greatness of our Lord. 

I would now like to return this tour to you. You’ve heard my spiel on some symbolism. You’ve heard my interpretation, that of the traditions of the church, and of St. Germanus. But take some time to view the chapel with your own eyes. What catches your glance? What enraptures you? What lifts your mind and heart to God?

There is so much beauty within this chapel, a beauty common to many Catholic churches across the globe. We are lucky to have such a rich history of architecture – of architecture with meaning. So let us not forget the importance of the Church. Quoting St. Germanus once more, “…it is glorified more than the tabernacle of the witness of Moses, in which are the mercy-seat and the Holy of Holies. It is prefigured in the patriarchs, foretold by the prophets, founded in the apostles, adorned by the hierarchs, and fulfilled in the martyrs.” It is the house of our truly present God.

In Defense of Being a Jesus Freak

For a long time, I was convinced that only weirdos were called to take Christianity seriously. That sounds harsh and judgmental, but in my defense, there are a lot of weird Christians. This isn’t anything new; Jesus spent most of his time on earth hanging out with the social outcasts, the weirdos of his day, and for the last 2,000 years, Christianity has embraced those on the fringes of society. The result, at least in my mind, was a religion full of weirdos. By that logic, I figured that, since I’m not a weirdo, I’m not called to take Christianity seriously or follow Jesus.

““As a result, plenty of people are content to write off the Catholic Church by its stereotypes, and society is full of rhetoric that consistently paints religious people in a bad light.”
”

I was wrong. I am weirdo. And I am called to follow Him. Now I’m not saying that God only calls weirdos, but I am saying that I certainly don’t break the stereotype. Furthermore, if you look around at groups of faithful, young, intelligent Catholics, you’ll find tons of weirdos. The result is that many people, inside and outside of the Catholic Church, come to believe the stereotype. It doesn’t help that the very structure of Catholicism can seem designed to breed weirdos: it’s full of secrecy and strange smoke and odd rules about sex. At times, it can seem like the Church is designed to attract weird people and then make them weirder. As a result, plenty of people are content to write off the Catholic Church by its stereotypes, and society is full of rhetoric that consistently paints religious people in bad light.

Here’s the truth: there is no shortage of…unique Catholics. But contrary to what society or even those within the Church want to tell you, I don’t think that’s such a bad thing. For one, society’s disdain for the uniqueness of Catholics can be hypocritical. Social media is full of people urging one another to be true to themselves and to fight conformity, but Catholics are derided or mocked for their refusal to conform. Our culture promotes pseudo-countercultural movements (like being hipster) while it simultaneously attacks ideologies that are actually countercultural. Ironically, the very people praising non-conformity miss the fact that some of the most unique, countercultural people are faithful Catholics. Even within the Church, there is often an unspoken pressure for young Catholics to not be “too” Catholic, too overtly or outspokenly faithful. While some think that “playing it cool” could make the Church more attractive, this approach could be lethal.

That is because uniqueness—authentic uniqueness, not the hipster uniqueness that can be found in every nook and cranny in Portland—is the stuff of Saints. Many writers have said that true holiness is about becoming yourself. If that’s true, then it makes sense that holy people don’t really blend in with the crowd. We were made to be unique individuals, and when we are the people we were made to be, we’re going to be a little unique. (I’m not claiming to be holy - I’m just saying I’ve got the unique part down pat.) If you look at the saints, this holds true. The lives of the saints are often shockingly different from one another, illustrating that sanctity runs contrary to conformity. For example, Anthony of Padua got sick of nobody listening to him, so he started preaching to the fish. That’s weird. St. Philip Neri once shaved off the right half of his beard so people wouldn’t take him too seriously. St. Therese of Lisieux was meek and gentle; St. Nicholas (aka Santa) punched a man during a gathering of bishops and spent a night in jail. God’s chosen ones come in all shapes in sizes. He calls all of us, and we’re all a little odd.

Society also freaks out about weird holy people because they don’t understand Christ, and true holiness divorced from Christ makes no sense. Take Mother Teresa. Most called her a living saint, yet a variety of atheists slandered her, condemned her, and compared her to Satan. Why? Because Mother Teresa was too Christlike to possibly comprehend without comprehending Christ. Her critics made up a million selfish motivations to explain the way she lived her life because they couldn’t figure out what her real reward was. They assumed she was driven by ulterior motivations. No one, they argued, could be that... good. True holiness is incomprehensible to those who don’t understand Jesus. When confronted with inexplicable goodness, the world naturally tries to explain it away with explicable badness.

I’m not saying that holiness necessarily makes you weird. As Fr. Mike Schmitz said, “I’ve met a lot of weird holy people, but most of them were weird before they were holy.” Nor am I saying that everyone who’s weird is also holy. I am saying that society tends to hyper-focus on the fact that Christians are weird. This weirdness comes in part from being ourselves. That’s a major aspect of holiness. It also comes from the countercultural nature of Christ’s message—anyone who wants to reject the culture in favor of Christ appears to be out of their mind. But I also think that some of this has to do with the devil.

I know, I know. Bringing up Satan. I sound like one of those weirdos from church. Oh wait—

Here’s the deal. The devil doesn’t just dance around in a red unitard with horns and a pitchfork. That would be too easy (and too funny). Instead, he gets in our heads. As C.S. Lewis points out in The Screwtape Letters, one way the devil does this is by convincing us that everyone at church is weird. If we think weirdness and holiness are inseparable, we’ll be deterred from our desire for holiness by our desire to be normal. I’ve been there before. I rationalized not living a Christian life by telling myself I was normal, and therefore not obligated to follow God. Looking back on it, I can see my exorbitant pride and selfishness. Yet how often are our impulses to follow God curbed by the fear that we’ll be seen as a “Jesus-freak”? The enemy benefits from that. By sheer pride, he can convince us to never even try to follow God.

““As a College we didn’t get to where we are now by inching away from our Catholicism.”
”

One last note. As the College reviews and examines its own Catholic identity, it’s all too easy to fall into the same trap. It would be easy to sacrifice our Catholic identity in the name of attracting more diverse applicants, gaining prestige, or earning respect in the increasingly secular world of academia. Whether we admit it or not, the same self-consciousness that prevents a college freshman from standing up for his or her faith can be found at an institutional level. There’s a fear of being “too Catholic.” There’s a worry that outsiders will stereotype us, laugh at us, and judge us. As a College, we didn’t get to where we are now by inching away from our Catholicism. In fact, Holy Cross has a long and storied history of embracing Catholicism, even when it wasn’t popular: the College is only in Worcester because Bishop Fenwick was run out of Boston by an anti-Catholic mob, and we chose the Crusader mascot in 1925 to anger the KKK, who had been attacking Catholic schools. Both instances highlight how, instead of shying away from our faith, we have embraced it. I urge all those involved in reviewing the school’s Catholic identity to do the same. Do not be afraid.

All I can say is this: maybe we’re not all called to be weirdos (most of us already are a little weird) but we are all called to holiness. So let’s embrace that and live for Christ—in all the wild weirdness that that may entail.

The Problem With Christian Socialism

As I have progressed through my year at Holy Cross, I could not help but notice the deep intermingling of socialism and Catholicism. I came to Holy Cross with the expectation of receiving a traditional Catholic education, one based in the Christian values of free will, selflessness, and fairness. Unfortunately, that is not quite the message I have received. As the younger generations in this country continue to accept socialism at an ever-increasing rate, this is a problem that I feel compelled to address. I do not find it necessary here to make economic or philosophical justifications for socialism, which would be better suited to an article unto itself. I also find those justifications of socialism far less dangerous than the Christian justification. Socialism based in Christian faith is far more concerning, for economics and politics can be compromised upon, but for many, religion is not up for discussion. Beyond that, socialism is anathema to Christianity, and to fuse the two is a corruption of the very foundation of the faith.

Socialism, on its surface, appears to be perfectly acceptable in the Faith. Christ teaches us to help those in need and to care not for worldly riches. Socialism seems to be compatible with these, for it is predicated upon giving to the less fortunate at the expense of those who value their worldly riches. That conclusion, however, is far too simplistic. I do not doubt that supporters of Christian Socialism only want the best for our country’s people and want to live out the teachings of Christ to the fullest. But it is for that reason that I find it necessary to make my counter-argument.

““Beyond that, socialism is anathema to Christianity, and to fuse the two is a corruption of the very foundation of the faith.”
”

A core teaching of most Christian denominations, and one especially prevalent in the Catholic and Orthodox churches, is that of free will. Free will is the ultimate manifestation of humanity, for it is what differentiates us from all other creatures. Socialism, however, is no friend to free will. It sounds kind and generous to create policy that gives to those in need, but charity by force is as bad as no charity at all. We cannot fool ourselves into thinking that just because a slight majority in Congress votes to impose higher taxes and to redistribute the revenue, that it is a free and collective act of goodwill and charity. Ask yourself what would happen if you decided you did not want to pay higher taxes. The end result would likely be your relocation to a jail cell. That is because taxation, far from benevolent charity, is basically theft. Taxes are certainly necessary in the provision of essential public goods, or goods that are able to be used equally by the entire public, but that is not what socialism provides. Socialism takes by force the earned money of some and puts it into the hands of others. Whether or not they need it is irrelevant to the case I am making here. The point is that Jesus implored us to freely give our wealth to those who need it, not to force others to give up their wealth. He also teaches that those who cherish their wealth too much on earth will pay after death, and the poor will inherit the kingdom of heaven. So if it is a matter of fairness, the greedy will receive their punishment.

““Fairness is for the government to leave the private sector so that everyone has the opportunity to provide for himself and his family.”
”

Another key element of Christianity is the teaching of selflessness. One would think that socialism encourages selflessness, for the wealthy are forced to give up what they have earned. But on the contrary, socialism encourages the worst form of selfishness. Socialism relies on the idea that it is everyone's right to possess a base level of wealth. Again, on its surface that may sound appealing, but there is a dark element to such a theory. Entitlement, far from breeding altruism, breeds selfishness and greed. Socialism encourages us to consider that we have a right to the goods of others, whether or not we have put in the work to deserve them. That, rather than being Christian, is sinful. That is not to say that people should be left to suffer. But those programs should be available only on the basis of absolute need. If one is disabled or loses a job, then help should be provided. Beyond the government, private charity provides superior help and services to those who need it. In fact, it is the increasing government intervention in everyone's lives in the form of higher taxes and regulations that stymies private charity. As taxes increase and it becomes more difficult to do business, less money is available for the private individual to use on charity. Contrary to popular belief, the wealthy are incredible providers of charity. Organizations like the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation do not sprout from socialist countries, and for good reason.

Finally, a Christian view of fairness is evident throughout Biblical teaching. Whether it be the poor receiving the kingdom of heaven, the evil feeling the wrath of God, or generous forgiveness, fairness is pervasive in Christian teaching. Socialism seems fair in its redistribution of excess, but it is not so simple. It is not fair to steal from the fruits of someone’s labor only to give to those who have not worked to receive it. Stealing is a sin, whether it is voted for by the majority or not. Fairness is for the government to leave the private sector so that everyone has the opportunity to provide for himself and his family.

I argue that capitalism, not socialism, provides the best quality of life for humanity. Over the past century, billions of people have been lifted from abject poverty through capitalism. Technology, of course, has greatly helped in increasing the living standards throughout the world, but that technology exists primarily because of capitalism. People develop new products because there is a financial incentive for their creation. If the expectation was that the government would take the vast majority of one’s profits, the incentive to create new products falls away. The technology that has helped the lives of millions, from medical advances to the computer, all have their success based in capitalism. Capitalism takes advantage of humanity’s innate greed, an inherent negative and obvious sin, and turns it into a positive. Everyone benefits from the production and success of a product: the employees receive higher wages, the customer makes his life better, and the producer receives the profit. Capitalism without any restrictions is certainly dangerous, but capitalism with anything but the utmost necessary restriction hurts the development of goods that make all of our lives better. How is this Christian? Because capitalism is based on voluntary interactions between individuals without coercion, it is the ultimate manifestation of free will. It encourages selflessness, for one has to work to receive. It is fair, because one receives the benefits of his work and theft is not rationalized as generosity. And finally, it unchains the gates so that private charity, the best way to provide necessary goods and services to those in need, can run free. Socialism encourages us to worship the government as the provider of life, but in reality, that quality rests with God alone.

Aztecs, Sacrifice, and the Holy Mass

“The heart of Hummingbird Wizard!

The heart of Hummingbird Wizard!”

The crowd surrounding the pyramid erupts as the Aztec priest, with his hair turned black from dried blood, holds in his hand the still-beating heart of a man now lying motionless upon the stone altar.  The corpse is kicked down the side of the temple before it is eaten by bloodthirsty onlookers. A large snakeskin drum is beaten continually, booming out into the air, as another man is brought to the altar for his blood to be spilled.

The Aztecs were some of the most brutal killers to ever walk the planet.  Of all peoples to engage in the horror of human sacrifice, none were so terrible as these merciless savages.  On one account, as noted by Dr. Warren H. Carroll in Our Lady of Guadalupe and the Conquest of Darkness, 89-year-old Tlacaelel ordered the sacrifice of more than eighty thousand men over the span of just four days, for what amounts to the slaying of one victim every fifteen seconds.  Such a magnitude of evil is enough to make even a Planned Parenthood employee cringe.

Yet underlying this genocide is a strikingly profound reality.  The Aztecs offered these sacrifices to various gods who, according to custom, were glorified by such worship.  They believed that the gods might grant them favors if sacrifices were offered up in their names. This phenomenon is not exclusive to the Aztecs.  Remarkably, human sacrifice was present among nearly all prehistoric tribes as well. The Greeks and Romans offered animal sacrifice. Even the Jews, the inheritors of the true pre-Christian religion, in obedience to God, slew animals for adoration, thanksgiving, atonement, and petition.  People of cultures who never previously came in contact with each other all felt the desire to offer sacrifice. The inclination to not only reach out to the Divine, but to sacrifice something in recognition of our own dependence on Him is universal; it is inherent in man.

Aristotle said that man is the animal with reason; it can just as truthfully be said that man is the animal who worships.  Dogs do not pray for forgiveness after eating food off the table, and calves do not bow down before golden idols; only man recognizes a hole in his heart that natural pleasures cannot fill.  “The eye is not filled with seeing, neither is the ear filled with hearing” (Ecclesiastes 1:8).

Sacrifice has always been the practice at the very center of worship.  Just as we externalize the ideas in our minds with expressions on our faces and words from our lips, sacrifice is man’s outward manifestation of his desire for God from within.  

Ultimately, however, the practice of sacrifice recognizes a certain debt ingrained into the human condition.  Sacrifice can only be motivated by the sentiment that we truly owe something to the Creator.  Otherwise, there would be no reason for any such rituals.  Immolations serve as acknowledgements of God’s power over life, admitting the absolute ownership of existence to a Being beyond the constraint of death.  Man, on the other hand, is a slave to death. It is the one thing he cannot escape. He is a finite being with a longing for the infinite.

Our position could be compared to a man being chased by a hungry bear, as he comes upon the cliff of a mile-long chasm, left with the only options of jumping to his death or letting time take its course before being devoured alive.  He can leap and try to reach salvation, but unless a savior from the other side with a mile-long wingspan reaches out and grabs him, he will fall to the abyss of death.

““He is a finite being with a longing for the
infinite.””

Such is the case also with sacrifice; our attempts to reach God through the slaying of creatures cannot bridge the infinite gap between God and man.  The Aztecs were driven to offer as many sacrifices as possible in hopes to pay off this burden. They sought to cross that infinite chasm with the blood of finite men, but their “gods” were never satiated and their mortality never extinguished.

Men of all ages were imminently aware of this fallen state we find ourselves in, that by Divine Revelation we know to be the product of Original Sin.  The Sin of Adam and our own iniquities have placed us in this inescapable predicament that when left unaided leads straight to eternal damnation. Man is at fault, and only he can pay this infinite debt; yet man is finite, and such a debt can only be paid by the Infinite.  The Roman Catechism says that “the human race, having fallen from its elevated dignity, no power of men or Angels could raise it from its fallen condition and replace it in its primitive state.” If this is the whole story, then the only reasonable reaction is despair. No matter what we do or how we do it, we cannot climb out of this pit of death; “vanity of vanities, all is vanity!” (Ecc. 1:2). But this, we know, is not the full story.  

In the fullness of time, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity took on a human nature to offer the only Sacrifice that could heal this wound: Himself.  “To remedy the evil and repair the loss” that came from the Sin of Adam, the Roman Catechism says that “it became necessary that the Son of God, whose power is infinite, clothed in the weakness of our flesh, should remove the infinite weight of sin and reconcile us to God in His blood.”  True man, He bore the guilt of all humanity. True God, His Sacrifice alone had the efficacy to atone for all sins.

The privilege (and obligation) of the Roman Catholic is his or her ability to be really and truly present at that same Sacrifice that took place two-thousand years ago while at each and every Holy Mass.  The Mass is not a mere supper nor is it a community gathering for entertainment purposes; it is quite literally the unbloody unveiling of the Sacrifice of Christ that perpetually restores mankind to the Father and reorders the cosmos.  Our Lord intended to have this Sacrifice perpetuated in memory and for the application of its graces in every Church throughout the world until its consummation.

The incredible aspects of the Aztec sacrifices lay in the unlikely resemblance they had to Christian worship.  The Aztecs would paint and dress up their sacrificial victims to look like the gods to whom they were offered, so that they would have the “face of a god”.  They would even say that these victims were in the image of gods, so when they were killed it was like a god himself was offered up as a sacrifice.  As Catholics, we believe that “the Son is the image of the invisible God”, who offered Himself as a Sacrifice (Colossians 1:15).  The Aztecs believed they had to offer these finite sacrifices on a daily basis to appease the gods, whereas Catholics celebrate the One Infinite Sacrifice unveiled at Holy Mass every day.  With the guidance of brave Spaniards who risked their lives for the Glory of God, the Aztecs and other natives of Mexico ended up converting to Catholicism in rapid numbers because of these similar concepts in worship.  Instead of eating the legs or arms of the human sacrifices at the bottom of the temple each day, they could now eat the flesh of the God Who died in our place at Holy Communion.    

““True man. He bore the guilt of all humanity. True God. His Sacrifice alone had the efficacy to atone for all sins.”
”

Although it cannot be emphasized enough that the Aztec sacrifices were Satanic acts of wicked savagery, we can clearly see that their impulse - in some sort of odd way - was correct, just carried out incorrectly.  The rational faculty of man enables him to come to profound truths regarding God and His creation, as was seen with the Aztecs. Yet, in order to enter into communion with God, it is necessary that man submit to those Truths Divinely Revealed that cannot be reached by human reason alone.  The Aztecs and other natives converted to Catholicism in rapid numbers, largely because they recognized the Christian faith as the true end of some of their inclinations.

Unapologetically You

You know when you’re singing along to the radio and the words flow from your lips without a single thought? Perhaps you stop to think for a moment, then realize you just shouted an entire line of curse words with your mom sitting beside you. The same seems to go for the Mass as well: an entire group of people, standing in unison reciting the prayers, sitting, responding, maybe whispering along with the opening hymn - but are you really thinking about what you’re doing, or are you going through the motions? We repeatedly praise, worship, and direct our hearts towards our Heavenly Father; we literally speak the words “Our Father,” so why are we denying Him? As Christians, we must never be ashamed of Christ; we must never refuse the gift of faith given to us through Christ’s eternal single sacrifice.

What does that even mean? Now is when most get defensive, explaining how they go to Sunday Mass every single week (maybe except when the Super Bowl is on because… it’s the Super Bowl!) [Note: eyeroll]. They explain how they went to Catholic school for their entire lives; how they were baptized minutes after being born as if their 4-hour-old selves quoted the word of Peter: "Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit" (Acts 2:38). That’s not to be minimized, for it’s true that the blessing of the faith lies within us all. As such, this article isn’t to say that you aren’t doing enough, although that is probably true. Rather, this is to raise the question of denying Christ.

Think about your father. Would you ever deny that he is your father? No matter what your circumstance may be, each one of us has a dad. Even if you don’t know him, or if he is your very best friend in the world, human beings feel a distinct connection to their biological parents. These two people, by the grace of God, created you in His image. Even if he fails to take into account your delicate sensibilities (yes, speaking from experience here...), one does not deny his or her father. Even if you don’t like him, chances are that you somehow love him. Surely, there is a difference between those two verbs.

Now, think of the last time you were standing in Mass, or most any Christian service for that matter. Perhaps without even thinking, the words begin to flow from your mouth: “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…” It does not take a Bible scholar to note that we are not talking about our biological father in this instance; rather, we are talking about our Heavenly Father, the one who commonly goes by the name of God, or Dieu if you’re French, Dios if you’re Spanish, and so on. It’s like that time that you were singing in the car with your mom, not considering what the words meant but saying them nonetheless. Crazy, truly.

As someone that did not grow up in this world where we discuss the change of saying “and with your spirit” instead of  “and also with you,” I noticed everything right down to its most basic level. In other words: I questioned everything like I was a two-year-old child asking “why” about quite literally every part of the Mass. Why did that person just do a little bow there in front of that table? (Note: I soon find that we call this the altar.) Why did that one person go down on one knee before sliding into his seat? (Note: this one was hard to grasp at first because genuflection feels like a dying ritual, but one that should most certainly be preserved). Why did that girl hug me at the Sign of Peace, and how many people do I have to awkwardly look at and mouth “peace be with you” until the priest continues? Everyone was speaking English around me, but they might as well have spoken a made-up language, for I was lost.

Since I’ve come from the secular world, my first time attending a Catholic Mass freaked me out. I felt as if I entered into an entirely different world, and despite the fact that the Mass was opened with the words “all are welcome here,” I most certainly felt out of place. Why are people singing now? What was that word that everyone just said in unison? Why does that person kneel while that one doesn’t? All these questions (and, trust me, many more) raced through my mind - and not just at my first Mass, but sometimes to this day. I had this feeling that everyone around me knew was was going on… except me. I felt a vague sense of unease whenever I would go to Sunday Mass because of that feeling, but I still needed to identify why, after eighteen years of existence, I decided that now was the time to explore Catholicism. Arguably, I had gotten along just fine before (or so I thought), but in seemingly minutes’ time, I felt like I could not live; I could not breathe one more day without giving myself to this Church. Because of all this, I found myself sitting in the office of Fr. Hayes to discuss the conversion process.

Per my typical “all or nothing” attitude, I quickly found myself attending daily Mass, running (yes, physically running) from meetings to Theology by the Slice so I could listen to talks on the Old Testament or Saints and Superheroes, and having breakfast with friends to talk about the faith. I went and bought my own Bible, which turned out to be an amusing and interesting experience as I tried to find out which translation was “best”... and which color I wanted. With such a dramatic change in who I was and who it seemed like I was becoming, friends and others around me began to take notice and give their “advice” on my new lifestyle. I was taking it too far, they said. “Perhaps she’s going to become a nun?” others remarked. Those who don’t know what Holy Cross is were convinced I had been sent to Bible school. Rival voices crept in from all directions, poking at me and making me question if the decision I was being called to make through the grace of the Holy Spirit was the right one for me. These voices came from some of the people I love most, making my “choice” that much harder… but that’s the thing: this isn’t a “choice,” because if it were, I could have easily decided to step away from the Church and return to my previous life. That life, however, was far gone.

““Faith is not a one-size-fits-all, and it is therefore going to look different for each and every one of us.”
”

Not wanting to be perceived as weird or anything too far out of our idea of normal, I cut back. I sometimes skipped Mass altogether, ultimately suffering and only hurting myself through that choice. I would take my cross necklace off around certain friends for fear of judgement. I would make excuses as to where I was going at 9 P.M. on Tuesday night, because who goes to Mass on a Tuesday? The answer: a lot of amazing people. Sometimes I feared that the aforementioned breakfast conversations about age-old debates of the Catholic Church would get so loud that nearby tables could hear. Without even knowing, and certainly without desire, I began to deny Christ. It was not until I listened to a podcast by Fr. Mike Schmitz that I realized what I was doing. [Note: if you haven’t listened to Fr. Mike, get ready for some life changing material.] Simply put, Fr. Mike outlines, “to deny Jesus will always be the wrong thing to do.” As much and perhaps more, we must care for our souls to the same extent we care for our bodies. This entails nurturing your relationship with Jesus and never being afraid (or ashamed) to accept him as your Lord. It entails not only acknowledging, but responding to the voice - the Holy Spirit - that is guiding you from within.

Faith is not a one-size-fits-all, and it is therefore going to look different for each and every one of us. With that said, it is time for us to show no fear or shame in our worship of God, which will mean different things for different people. Do you feel the call to kneel at Mass at the preparation of the Eucharist even though no one else is? Kneel. Do you love celebrating the Mass by singing? Let’s even get you a microphone! Is your ideal Wednesday night characterized by some pizza and theological discussions on the faith? Go eat pizza and open up your mind. The point is this: there will always be someone who doesn’t approve of you. Unfortunately for us, there is no such thing as a “good Catholic,” for at the end of the day, sin is to the human being as sacrifice is to the Mass, as Jesus is to the highest form of love.

If I had to describe the purest form of liberation, it would be the idea of being unapologetically you, which includes a fearless, shameless, loving worship and acceptance of Jesus. We would never want to deny our fathers here on earth, so why is it okay to deny our Father in Heaven? If it is of the unpopular opinion, so be it. If it is “weird” to unapologetically accept the utter gift of faith that has been given to us, let us be weird. Let us liberate ourselves from the shackles of fear and disappointment and step into a new life of love. All we can give to the Lord is our complete will. Offer it up. Accept your faith. Embrace the gift of acceptance, liberation, and life. Witness of the Mass is not enough; rather, we are called to participate in Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross. The urge to deny Jesus will always come, but Fr. Mike gives us the only answer we may ever need: “[rival voices] can rob us of peace, joy, and Christ’s place in our heart. But to take courage, get up, Jesus is calling you.”

““As Christians, we must never be ashamed of Christ...”
”

To Live the Faith of Our Fathers

There is a stirring hymn by The Reverend Father Frederick William Faber from 1849 which, titled “Faith of our Fathers,” commemorates the sacrifice of the English martyrs that were killed under the Tudor rule of Henry VIII and Elizabeth I during the establishment of the Church of England. The martyrs include notable saints such as Saint Thomas More, Saint Oliver Plunkett, and Saint John Houghton, O. Cart. The hymn was written for the audience of both English and Irish Catholics, whose allegiance was found in their shared faith and persecution by an unjust authority. Its lyrics speak of how our Catholic faith is “living still in spite of dungeon, fire, and sword” which serve to remind the listener that the Catholic faith has and will continue to overcome persecution because of its truth. When performed on an organ, it is sure to have “our hearts beat high with joy whene’ver we hear that glorious word.” It should also serve as a reminder that the freedom to celebrate the faith openly is a luxury won after centuries of martyrdom. So, what does this hymn have to do with us as Catholics?

To start, reflection on the title of the hymn itself is important. For Catholics with a strong baptized lineage, it serves to remind us that this is indeed the “Faith of Our Fathers” in the literal sense of ancestry. There is a sense of pride here in being able to look back in our family trees and find solace in knowing that we are not alone in our faith. For converts to the faith, it is still important to look back upon spiritual fathers in the sense that many of the men and women who endured martyrdom for Christ were converts. There is the connection in the pursuit of truth, for while the two are not related by lineage, they are related in the sense that they are baptized into the Body of Christ. In both senses, this is a title which pulls on the heartstrings to invoke a sense of connection and a bond that transcends time.

In its composition, in order to properly honor the memory of the martyrs, there were important messages to give to the reader. The lyrics touch upon how “Our Fathers, chained in prisons dark were still in heart and conscience free: how sweet would be their children’s fate, if they, like them, could die for thee,” a message that may seem unfitting or uncomfortable for our modernity. We are called to remember that sacrifice that our predecessors made for us to be free. While chained, bloodied and bruised, these phenomenal men and women did not see this as their end, but rather they held out hope for Christ. Their hearts were purely intentioned because they were willing to give up their lives for the truth that they could pass on to future generations. How sweet it would be for us to honor their memory by making our hearts and consciences free due to our hope in the salvation of Christ! The call to martyrdom is not something that we will likely have to answer, due in part to the sacrifices of others. How can we, who have the luxury of having daily masses free from violent persecution, possibly “die for thee?”

This call is answered in the hymn and it can apply to our modern lives. The hymn is overwhelmingly a message of Hope. It is hopeful that we as Catholics will “love both friend and foe in all our strife: and preach thee too, as love knows how by kindly words and virtuous life.” We are called to love our friends and our enemies, preach the Word of God, and live a virtuous life. All of those things are extremely difficult to do and through human error we are likely to fall. In our shortcomings, we are never alone. We have Christ, His Church, the Communion of Saints, and many more aspects of faith available to us. Though this road is difficult, we can become more and we are commanded to do a better job.

How can I, a Catholic in college, do a better job? To start, remembering constantly that this is a faith for which people have shed their blood. To honor of the faith of our fathers, we should act like the Church that we are baptized into is the truth for which people would die to protect. It is not something to which only partial attention should be paid; rather, all of our attention should be towards salvation through Christ. We should seek to live out a virtuous life, one that is set in the virtues of humility, kindness, temperance, chastity, patience, charity, and diligence. When we falter in our pursuit of virtue, rather than scorning the Church, we must be reminded of the Faith, Hope, and Love found in Christ. We will never be perfect - no human being is perfect - but we have models that we can strive to imitate.

It is not enough for one to say, “Oh I went to a Catholic school” or to say, “Well, I was raised Catholic” in order to claim some authority as to why he is out of line in his views. Catholicism is a living faith. It requires faith and works and for its members to do more than sit in a pew with half-attention once a week. We need to do better, and to do so requires dedication and a willingness to pursue something more than ourselves. When our Church has a history of individuals who selflessly gave up their lives with their last words being “Deo gratias” (thanks be to God) rather than denying Him, it is not enough that we call ourselves ‘Catholic’ and then proceed to give up Christ for the other 167 hours of the week. In our daily lives, let us try to be better and actually commit to the centuries of foundation set before us.

“Faith of Our Fathers” is a very classic hymn with a timeless message. It is important that we pay attention to the lyrics whenever we are fortunate enough to hear it during Mass. In our Church, we have both genealogical and spiritual Fathers that we can follow in order to model our Faith. Being Catholic is not easy, but we have been afforded some luxuries that were not previously available to those before us. We have governmental freedoms that allow us to avoid being put to death; surely we can take advantage of that and use our time to glorify God. It is time to rock the cradle enough for us to fall out of our habits and become like our Fathers, who only sought to preserve the truth so that future generations would be able to worship our Lord freely.

Dancing With Your Eyes Closed

In my first year as a resident assistant here at the College of the Holy Cross, I was given the opportunity to participate in an event called “Pie Your RA.” “Pie Your RA” was relatively self-explanatory: at a specified time in front of the Hogan Campus Center, residents could purchase, for a dollar, a whipped-cream “pie” and promptly deposit it onto their garbage-bag-clad RA’s face. I, ever being a jokester, was all-for the event. The donated monies would go to benefit the Holy Cross Dance Marathon, wherein students dance the night away (literally, mind you – they dance all night) to raise money for the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric Aids Society. What could go wrong?

To make a long story short: once I knew what I’d be getting into, I didn’t let one drop of whipped cream touch my face.

The Dance Marathon has been waltzing around the College since 2012. A Holy Cross alumna co-founded the event during her senior year, according to her blog “A Job Well Dunn,” for the sake of “bringing students and the community together to raise money and awareness for the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation.” During the initial year, the Marathon raised almost $24,000 for the Foundation; in the next year, the number increased by roughly $4,500. It seems that the donations peaked in 2014, where an enterprising group of students raised over $40,000, although the amount has dwindled to back around $27,000 as of last year. (The Campus Activities Board hosted the event again on January 25th, but I haven’t found the total amount donated this year.)

I suppose that these numbers indicate how easy it is to say to a group of students: “hey everyone! Let’s all dance together, have a fun time, and save the lives of some children suffering from HIV/AIDS! Everyone wins!” and have an overwhelmingly positive response. It makes sense, to be sure; who wouldn’t want to protect the lives of children? Who wouldn’t want to purge HIV and AIDS from the world? Noble, to be sure.

But the “everyone wins” is false. The children don’t all win, nor do their mothers, nor do we. The Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric Aids Foundation, despite what it seems, is unadulteratedly pro-choice; furthermore, it disagrees fundamentally with Catholic sexual ethics.  Frankly, I don’t know if Holy Cross itself knows that, and I’m sure that most of the students who attend the Dance Marathon don’t know either.

The Lepanto Institute for the Restoration of All Things in Christ, a “research and education organization dedicated to the defense of the Catholic Church against assaults from without as well as from within,” marks the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric Aids Foundation (EGPAF) as “Not Safe” on the grounds that it facilitates abortion and contraception. On a page dedicated to explaining this grade (see https://www.lepantoinstitute.org/elizabeth-glaser-pediatric aids-foundation/), they explain why. EGPAF, in 2013, published a progress report on its “Cote d’Ivoire” project in Kenya. “Page five of this report,” claims Lepanto, “clearly indicates that its distribution of 400,000 condoms was one of its accomplishments for just one year.” Indeed, on page five of the PDF document linked to the Lepanto webpage, the statement “Over the year, EGPAF distributed over 400,000 condoms” appears. Please note that section 2370 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church explains that “every action which... proposes, whether as an end or as a means, to render procreation impossible is intrinsically evil.” This prohibition includes condoms, which render procreation impossible.

Perhaps far worse is that EGPAF also supports abortion. According to the Lepanto Institute, EGPAF celebrated the repeal of the Mexico City Policy in 2009. The policy requires that nongovernmental organizations must, in order to receive federal funding, not involve themselves in family planning via abortion in other nations. The Mexico City Policy has vacillated, being repealed and reinstated, over various presidencies and was repealed under President Obama, although Trump has recently reinstated it again. The EGPAF’s support of Obama’s repeal can be affirmed by a statement from Pamela W. Barnes, the President and Chief Executive Officer of EGPAF in 2009. She commented that “the prevention of unintended pregnancies is one of the four cornerstones of the United Nations’ and World Health Organization’s strategy for preventing mother to child transmission (PMTCT) of HIV.” Barnes also noted that “the ‘Mexico City Policy’ denied funding for these basic family planning services.” In a 2014 report (after the Dance Marathon had already begun donating to the Foundation), the EGPAF noted that it provided “key results in prevention of undesired pregnancies: EGPAF-supported programs provided family planning counseling and methods to 11,678 HIV-positive individuals in 2014.” As noted by Barnes, that counseling includes abortion.

Although most people are well aware of the Church’s stance on abortion, I’ll include some of Pope St. Paul VI’s words on the subject; he is, after all, a saint. And a pope. And a magisterial authority. In section 14 of his encyclical Humanae Vitae, he comments that “above all, all direct abortion, even for therapeutic reasons, (is) to be absolutely excluded as lawful means of regulating the number of children.” I suppose that’s firm enough for me to say and be done with the subject. EGPAF is, consistently and objectively, in opposition with the teachings of the Catholic Church and anyone who holds pro-life ideals. Ironic that an organization so concerned with healthy children has no qualms with killing those unborn.

What’s more ironic? Last year, despite how a quick Google search determines that EGPAF isn’t a Catholic-friendly charity, a Mass collection was held for the group around this time. I’d been sitting in a pew with a close friend, fishing for my wallet as the collection basket floated down our way, whispering to him “shouldn’t you be donating to help stop pediatric AIDS?” His retort: “for the good of your soul, you’d better not donate to them.” I stuffed my wallet back into my pocket and passed the basket along, all the while mildly confused with his sentiment (until I learned the truth about the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric Aids Foundation, of course).

Now, what of those other Catholics and pro-life students among us who danced the night away with the Dance Marathon this year? Holy Cross has done them a disservice by making the Marathon into a celebratory festival where the goal is promoting life, albeit quietly at the expense of other lives waiting to be born. Over the course of seven years, the truth about EGPAF has, as far as I’m aware, never come to light. I’d almost be amused if it weren’t so terrible.