Lutheran Christmas

My friend Dave was at the Shop yesterday. He's as serious of a Lutheran as I am a Catholic, and we've had a few interesting discussions on religion over the years. But we've always been cool about it, which you should be. Oh, maybe the talks became pointed once or twice, but we were always all right with each other in the end. Which you should be.

Anyway, his visit reminded me of a little fun I had at his expense years ago. His son Curt was in the old barn, and it was December. I told him, "Hey, when you see your Dad, ask him if Lutherans celebrate Christmas."

About an hour later the Shop phone rang. As this was before cell phones, I didn't know who was calling. I simply answered, "Cosgriff, this is Marty."

There was initially dead silence. Then Dave's voice asked, "Do Lutherans celebrate Christmas?" in exactly the put-on incredulous voice I would have expected.

AND NOW, THE PUNCH LINE. Let's see how many readers get it.

I asked Dave yesterday if I could use the Lutheran Christmas joke in my blog. He said, "Only if you don't call me Cloyce."

You got it old pal.

One Year with the Pope

The Holy Father, Pope Francis, has been our Pope for a year now. It is a blessed anniversary for all the faithful.

He has spoken with great kindness and charity. There is a lesson in that, one not easily learned. The lesson is simple, so simple in fact that it is often seen as trite and formulaic. We are not to judge. It is not our job.

What does this mean? Are we not to consider what is right or wrong? Are we not with a guideline to our acts?

We are with a guideline to our acts, of course. As are all others. Yet when they stray we are not to look at them nor what they do. We are only to look at the act, nothing more. Why?

That is the great question. It is based on the idea that we don't know them; we don't know what cross they carry. We don't know their burden. No creature, no created thing, does, nor can, know what cross another man bears.

This is the lesson which the Holy Father teaches. We would do well to heed it.

The Inconsolable Longing

C. S. Lewis speaks of something which, in German, is called Sehnsucht. He translates that as the inconsolable longing. It is a wish, says Wikipdeia, for we know not what. But we know not what, don't we? And it hurts very deeply, doesn't it?

I want what I cannot on this earth have. I want to be free and brave and bold and happy, all the things not really available on this world.

Lewis takes that a step farther. He argues, quite sensibly, I think, that we would not have such a feeling if it were not possible that such a feeling could not somehow, someday, be assuagued. We live and love today, in this world, under these circumstances. Yet we hope there is more. But more than hope; we know it is there.

That is why we so often feel sad. We have that knowledge that things ought to be better. We know that there has to be a somewhere where things are as they should be. We sense it; we feel it; we are, by a very taut cord, attached to it. It is there. It has Being.

And we are detached from it as long as we live on this world. Therein lies the pain, the yearning; the inconsolable longing. We know that it is possible, indeed, we know that it is likely (if we know anything at all) and true. We know that things are not as they should be. We know that someday we will, if we wish it yet only because we need it, and nothing more, be there with it. Things will be as they should be in the end.

Life Isn't Easy

A few months ago, a nun had been excommunicated for allowing an abortion at a Catholic hospital in Arizona. The participants in a similar case in Brazil have been excommunicated for permitting an abortion for a pregnant nine year old girl last year. These events have drawn particular focus on the issue of abortion, if it is possible that any greater emphasis can be placed on it.

Phoenix Bishop Thomas Olmsted has put the question in proper perspective: there are always two lives at stake with a pregnancy, and each has equal moral value. The end can never justify the means, and one innocent life cannot be directly taken even to save another. It is as simple as that.

The circumstances may indeed be tragic. The girl in Brazil was the victim of such. The woman in Arizona, pregnant with her fifth child despite a known health issue, may also be, but the case is less clear there. Presumably she knew of her condition yet allowed herself to become pregnant, and that is most definitely a mitigating circumstance which must be considered. But the bottom line is that we are not dealing with the big bad Catholic Church acting without concern for human life. Indeed we at dealing with Her instructing the faithful in very real and human terms: addressing the issue of the sacredness of life itself.

The answers are not always easy, but, every Christian his cross must bear. We were never promised that life would be easy. The supporters of the nun's decision speak as though she and her associates did a great good; yet a life was lost, directly and by a conscious decision no less. That is not being readily addressed by the public, and it is the salient point. The matter is very grave, a point which certainly the principals involved would concede. Yet the only moral option was clear, and it was not followed.

Every Christian his cross must bear. We will not always like the result, but there are times where we have no moral choice but to let things play out. It's often sad, yes, even regrettable, but we live in a fallen world. We do not improve it by submitting to that fact. We only make it worse.

Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent for Christianity in general, and Catholics in particular. It is a time of penance, something we all need. We all need to atone for our failures, for our sins.

Humanity is fallen; the world around us is fallen. That's why people do wrong, and genes mutate. Nothing in our universe is perfect, but there is a difference between we humans and dumb animals and the inanimate things nearby. We can choose. We can decide whether to do well or ill. It is what makes us special, and separates us from all else.

Try to become a better person this Lenten season. You might be pleasantly surprised as the good habits formed become a part of you. The folks around you may be downright shocked.

The Holy Spirit and the Authority of Teaching.

I find myself frequenting more and more blogs, and participating in their discussions so much as I can. On one of the more recent chats, on a Protestant board, we were talking about how obvious the truths of the Bible are, and how therefore no one had the authority to call another wrong on a theological issue.

I don't know, my friends. If everything is so plain why are there so many denominations? It seems to me that much declaring of right and wrong has to be done by the learned, provided there is evidence that they are driven by the Holy Spirit. Because I do of course agree, as several good Christians at that site pointed out, that degrees and citations by themselves cannot make a point of view right. Still, if things were so plain and simple, why are churches even necessary? Why bother our pastors about issues and events in our lives or in the general society if scripture is so clear? Indeed why even discuss things religious with others at all?

While we may not be able to divine the will of the Spirit in all things at all times (we are human, of course, and subject to error) we can make useful judgments about whether the Spirit is speaking to so and so. For starters, if I say that in the Eucharist is the Real Presence of Christ and you say no, one of us is wrong even if we both claim that the Holy Spirit is guiding us. Unless, that is, the Holy Spirit lies, which is an unacceptable position. If you say divorce is okay yet I read in Scripture where Christ Himself says that he who divorces one to marry another commits adultery, I think I can harbor a reasonable doubt about whether the Spirit is speaking to you or not.

Further, if there is effectively no teaching authority within the fathers of a historical Church, nay even no teaching authority in the hands of the theologically learned, how can we resolve the issues which we must face in creating a closer relationship to God? How can we even lean on the teachings of the Apostles, who would then theoretically be no more than individuals judging the will of the Spirit themselves? Don't forget for a moment that even they could be cautious about what they preached: St. Peter, in an obvious expectation that the early Church was subject to his authority, points out that we must treat St. Paul's words with great respect. They could be difficult to understand, and the 'unstable and ignorant' might misinterpret them to their peril. The Apostles themselves, it seems, expected obedience from their flock. What other reason is there for writing pastoral letters?

I'm really not trying to lambaste my Protestant brethren; I simply believe we have to understand that there are those who have more right than we to call certain parts of theology and Scripture right or wrong.

In short, I don't mind hierarchy, so long as it passes the test of the Spirit. What we must be careful about is the tyranny of the individual. That is a particularly dangerous threat when our souls are at risk.

The Real Deal.

I mentioned the other day how Barack Obama being touted as a consensus builder does not impress me. Nor do I think highly of consensus as consensus. It isn’t that I don’t recognize the need for sometimes disagreeable agreement in order to move things along; it’s simply that most people who preach ‘consensus first’ really aren’t ready or willing to concede anything substantial at all.

Liberals are great at this game. They want consensus on abortion or gay rights, for example. Yet they are in favor of both; conservatives are not. They talk about tolerance: they want us to tolerate both. That’s easy for them as they find both issues tolerable. They aren’t moving towards consensus in any way shape or form because they aren’t conceding anything. Yet we right wingers are essentially being asked to give up entirely on core values which we believe in very deeply. In short, it isn’t consensus they request. It’s total acceptance of their world view.

Try this on for size: I don’t merely tolerate the Catholic Church. I am Catholic. It is beyond toleration: it is recognition of the truth of the Creed. I do not ask anyone to join the Church unless they are willing to make that same commitment. There is no consensus: you accept it or you do not. If you do not, I will then tolerate your not being Catholic because that too is part of the Creed: the truths of the Church must be freely accepted or they are valueless. Either way, we can get along.

Not so with liberals. We are pariahs, neanderthals, if we do not go beyond tolerance (which truly is only a recognition of error which we can not, at a given time anyway, overcome) and embrace their ways. There is no room, in their creed or in their philosophy, for us to be us. They are hypocrites who sound like they’re being inclusive when they are in fact less considerate of beliefs anathema to theirs than they accuse us of being. They are, to use the Illinois Senator’s phrase, pigs with lipstick. We need to step back far enough that we may see the sty they wallow in.