Pope Pius X writes, in his Motu Propio Tra Le Sollecitudini promulgated in 1903, that

[Gregorian Chant is] the Chant proper to the Roman Church, the only chant she has inherited from the ancient fathers, which she has jealously guarded for centuries in her liturgical codices, which she directly proposes to the faithful as her own, which she prescribes exclusively for some parts of the liturgy, and which the most recent studies have so happily restored to their integrity and purity.

On these grounds Gregorian Chant has always been regarded as the supreme model for sacred music, so that it is fully legitimate to lay down the following rule: the more closely a composition for church approaches in its movement, inspiration and savour the Gregorian form, the more sacred and liturgical it becomes; and the more out of harmony it is with that supreme model, the less worthy it is of the temple. [2]

Later, in 1955, Pope Pius XII wrote an encyclical, Musicae Sacrae, which delivered a similar ethos. For-instance, the Bishop explains that sacred music must be “holy”. He then declares that “Gregorian chant…is gloriously outstanding for this holiness”. [3]

At this point, it is most likely that one will point out that these quotes thus far are “pre” Vatican II. However, I think that kind of language is not very Catholic, to be completely honest. As a Catholic, we believe that the Church is one. There are never “pre” and “post” churches. Certainly, every council represents a visible moment in Church history that signifies some sort of renewal, message, etc. However, the Church is the Church, and it is imperative, when we consider matters of the Church–including theological, liturgical, and historical–that we dialogue using a hermeneutic of continuity [4].

Furthermore, I think that a reading of some of the documents from Vatican II will prove this continuity of Gregorian chant as the preferred and suggested musical choice. In the Council’s Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, the text states: “The Church acknowledges Gregorian chant as specially suited to the Roman Liturgy: therefore, other things being equal, it should be given pride of place in liturgical services” [5]. Vatican II agrees with past teaching and continues to declare the official music of the Roman Church’s Liturgy: Gregorian chant.

At this point, I simply want to offer a few more quotes that uphold Vatican II’s teaching:

From Musicam Sacram: “According to the Constitution on the Liturgy, “the use of the Latin language, with due respect to particular law, is to be preserved in the Latin rites” [6]. Note that this is referencing a Vatican II document. Contrary to popular belief, Vatican II was a Latin Church council–and Latin in the full meaning of the word. Not only were all of its documents promulgated in Latin, but it also upholds the use of Latin the Roman Church.

In a Letter to the Bishops on the Minimum Repertoire of Plainchant, the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship suggests that “all the faithful should know at least some Latin Gregorian chants, such as, for example, the ‘Gloria’, the ‘Credo’, the ‘Sanctus’, and the ‘Agnus Dei’” [7].

From the General Instruction on the Roman Missal (2002): “All other things being equal, Gregorian chant holds pride of place because it is proper to the Roman Liturgy. Other types of sacred music, in particular polyphony, are in no way excluded, provided that they correspond to the spirit of the liturgical action and that they foster the participation of all the faithful” [8].

I might also add that a simple look to the Church in Rome, at the Bishop of Rome’s writings and celebrations: it is clear that His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI respects these teachings, specifically, the primacy of chant and the use of Latin.

Might I end with a great quote from John Miller, C.S.C. Exploring the nature and definition of the Liturgy, he concludes:

[T]he liturgy is the public (in the sense of being done by and for the whole Mystical Body) worship of the Mystical Body in the entirety of its Head and members, worship which is Christ’s prayer and action, effecting a holy exchange of God’s life and human homage…worship which is concretized in the Mass, the sacraments, the divine office, and the sacramentals; worship, finally, which inserts the members of Christ into the heavenly current of adoration, propitiation, thanksgiving, and petition carried on by our glorified Redeemer before the throne of the Father for all eternity. [9]

How miraculous and great a reality, that the Mass–the culmination of liturgical and sacramental life–most authentically and powerfully “inserts the members of Christ into the heavenly current” of praise. How diligently, then, must we seek in truth to celebrate properly the Liturgy. May we continue to be nourished in the life of grace by the gift of the Eucharist. May we continue to grow in unity with Christ, the Son, so that in Him through the grace of the Spirit we may come to contemplate and love more perfectly the Most High and Sacred Lover, the Father of the Triune Divinity. Truly, may our soul soar the heavens in God’s presence as a singing bird soars through the clouds of this earthly realm. May we join with the Communion of Saints in the Heavenly Liturgy and praise the Loving Creator.

——–

[1] Miller, John. “The Nature and Definition of the Liturgy.” Theological Studies. 18.3 1957: 339

[2] Paragraph 3. Click here for the full text.

[3] Paragraph 42. Click here for the full text. See also Tra le Sollecitudini, n. 2.

[4] cf. Address of His Holiness Benedict XVI to the Roman Curia Offering Them His Christmas Greetings, 22 Dec 2005. In this address, Benedict specifically introduces a hermeneutic of continuity or renewal, explaining that we cannot interpret Vatican II by itself without the rich history and organic developments of the Church beginning with the Apostles and ancient Fathers. Well worth a read: Click here for the full text.

[5] Paragraph 5 of Sacrosanctum Concilium: Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy Second Vatican Council Promulgated by His Holiness Pope Paul VI On December 4, 1963. Click here for the full text. See also n. 54: “[S]teps should be taken so that the faithful may also be able to say or to sing together in Latin those parts of the Ordinary of the Mass which pertain to them.”

[6] Paragraph 47 of Musicam Sacram, the Instruction On Music In The Liturgy. Sacred Congregation of Rites March 5, 1967. Click here for the full text. I also want to quote an earlier paragraph, but for the sake of space have decided to not include it in the main text of this post:

It is to be hoped that pastors of souls, musicians and the faithful will gladly accept these norms and put them into practice, uniting their efforts to attain the true purpose of sacred music, “which is the glory of God and the sanctification of the faithful.”

(a) By sacred music is understood that which, being created for the celebration of divine worship, is endowed with a certain holy sincerity of form. (Cf. St. Pius X, Motu Proprio ‘Tra le sollecitudini,’ n. 2.)
(b) The following come under the title of sacred music here: Gregorian chant, sacred polyphony in its various forms both ancient and modern, sacred music for the organ and other approved instruments, and sacred popular music, be it liturgical or simply religious. (Paragraph 4)

[7] Letter to the Bishops on the Minimum Repertoire of Plainchant: Voluntati Obsequens. Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship April 14, 1974. Click here for the full text.

[8] Third Typical Edition of the GIRM. Click here for the text online.

[9] Miller, John. “The Nature and Definition of the Liturgy.” Theological Studies 18.3 (1957): 356

Let me also suggest a stop by at Roma Locuta est, where Jake Tawney has written extensively on topics such as sacred music and the liturgy. “100 Years of Church Teaching on Gregorian Chant” in particular inspired me to write this post here.

[T]hough he [Christ] was in the form of God, [he] did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness…he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth. (cf. Phil 2:6-11)

In this passage, the writer interweaves Old Testament faith and culture with the Gospel of Christ. Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger explains that in this hymn the “apostolic Church takes up the words of promise in Isaiah 45:23: ‘By myself I have sworn, from my mouth has gone forth in righteousness a word that shall not return: ‘To me every knee shall bow.” In the interweaving of Old and New Testaments, it becomes clear that, even as crucified, Jesus…is himself God by nature. Through him, through the Crucified, the bold promise of the Old Testament is now fulfilled: all bend the knee before Jesus, the one who descended, and bow to him precisely as the one true God” [1]. The theologian eventually concludes that it is therefore in adoration, in this humble bowing down and kneeling to, that man partakes in the most authentic human culture: the culture of truth that loves the Creator and King. Hence adoration and prayer, which culminate in the Liturgical sphere, have a distinctively cosmic element; creation itself is most true and noble when everything that is becomes itself, and ergo gives praise to her God. Thus, if we look at this through an ontological and anthropological lens, we can conclude with Ratzinger: “The humble gesture by which we fall at the feet of the Lord inserts us into the true path of life of the cosmos” [2].

Furthermore, kneeling itself is a Christological gesture. In the Acts of the Apostles, the writer records Stephen’s martyrdom, and details that as they were stoning this loyal disciple of Jesus Christ, “he fell to his knees and cried out in a loud voice, ‘Lord do no hold this sin against them’” (7:60). Surely, this verse reminds one of Christ, who, in Luke’s Gospel, kneels in Gethsemane. Thus, Luke is showing that the kneeling of the first martyr is his entry into the prayer of Jesus. Something ontological, even mystical, is taking place here. When man abandons himself in his entirety, causing his knees to buckle, he falls to the ground, the dirt of which the first man was made. But in this descent of man to the ground, there is the humility of the God-man, Jesus Christ. In this descent of man to the ground, man encounters the prayer of Jesus Christ, and by acknowledging and crying out to the King of Kings, man is lifted into the clouds–into the realm of God Himself. Ultimately, the truest position for the human person that expresses his nature in relation to God is on one’s knees, looking up to the Crucified Lord and in that humble gaze of God’s glory, he tastes that blood and water–the elements of the Sacramental economy–from Jesus’ side that set man free, inundate him with grace.

Kneeling inserts man into the position of Him who is at the center of history, Jesus of Nazareth. How beautiful this Christological component of kneeling! It is no wonder that, according to a story of the Desert Fathers, the devil, appearing to “a certain Abba Apollo…looked black and ugly, with frighteningly thin limbs, but most strikingly, he had no knees“. Referencing this myth, Ratzinger declares that the very “inability to kneel is seen as the very essence of the diabolical” [3]. This is not an attack on any sort of physical inabilities that some unfortunately may suffer. The devil has no knees because he lacks so much that proper worship is literally impossible for him. May this serve as a reminder to us the harm and danger of sin, which deforms human nature–the knees of the soul, we could even say.

All of this reminds me of a quote by Pope John XXIII: “Man is never so great as when he is kneeling”. In an interview with Peter Seewald, Joseph Ratzinger addresses this very quote: “I believe that this attitude, which was already one of the primitive forms of Old Testament prayer, is something essential for Christians”. [4] But why is it so that this action and position is essential? What is the practical implication and understanding? In a society with philosophical structures that fail to see interiorly, it may appear that kneeling or standing–especially in the Sacred Liturgy, for-instance–don’t really matter, as long as one is merely “prayerful”; some may even propose kneeling to be archaic and now unnecessary. However, I disagree. We have noted the cosmic and Christological dimensions of kneeling, which should suffice to silent those groups that deem kneeling unimportant. Nonetheless, a critical look at the position is also revealing. In Ratzinger’s words: “It is the most impressive physical expression of Christian piety, by which, on one hand, we remain upright, looking out, gazing upon him, but, on the other, we nonetheless bow down” [5].

Lastly, any sort of discussion of kneeling is bound to remind one of its place and significance in the Liturgy, the culmination of prayer–as has already been stated. It is a miserable circumstance that kneeling, in some places, is losing its importance within the Mass. As the surest expression of abandonment and praise, what a perfect place for man to express his awareness of the reality that is the Divine Liturgy. Ratzinger writes powerfully:

It may well be that kneeling is alien to modern culture–insofar as it is a culture, for this culture has turned away from the faith and no longer knows the One before whom kneeling is the right, indeed the intrinsically necessary gesture. The man who learns to believe learns also to kneel, and a faith or a liturgy no longer familiar with kneeling would be sick at the core. Where it has been lost, kneeling must be rediscovered, so that, in our prayer, we remain in fellowship with the apostles and martyrs, in fellowship with the whole cosmos, indeed in union with Jesus Christ Himself. [6]

If piety and orthodoxy, as well as orthopraxy, have any importance for Christians, then may we kneel. May we kneel in adoration of Christ the King, the perfect Mediator Dei, from whose being the entire universe was formed. May we kneel as we gaze into the Heart of God’s only Son, and in that gaze, soar the heavens above the dirt of the earth. May we kneel in thanksgiving, praise, and petition to the Almighty One. Indeed, may we kneel because we are in love, and in that falling to one’s knees, fall deeper into that Vastness of Being, the Trinity.

______

1. The Spirit of the Liturgy (San Francisco: Ignatius, 2000), 174

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid., 193 (emphasis original)

4. God And the World (San Francisco: Ignatius, 2002), 410

5. Ibid., 409 (emphasis added)

6. Spirit of the Liturgy, 194

shows his patience by bearing wrongs with equanimity; his kindness by generously repaying good for evil. Jealously is foreign to him…His conduct is blameless…He is not ambitious…He is not quick to take offense…He harbors no evil thoughts.[1]

It is true that Christianity is radically eschatological. But when the only question floating in one’s mind is “How am I saved?” or “How am I justified?”, I think that there is a great mis-interpretation of the Gospel. Thinking only as such is harmful and misses the wholeness of the Christian message: for the Gospel is not about getting into Heaven, but rather about living within the Lordship of Christ (=Kingdom of God), and therefore does it necessarily entail an eschatological component. Following Jesus Christ is about an “abundant life” (cf. Jn 10:10) and living in the “newness of life” (cf. Rom 6:4). It is about the good life, and therefore joy, meaning and truth—which the human heart innately longs for. Hence it is about the other. This Gregory attests to. His testimony makes clear the importance of love and that to be a Christian is to transmit love. Obviously, the most authentic love is one that communicates Jesus Christ. Thus, it is Christ’s charity that we are called to live and participate within. This requires eschatological hope in Christ, that He is in fact the Son of God—the One who shows the way into true life, peace, and victory. Without hope, Christian faith becomes void—it would be believing in an empty message. And so the Council of Trent states: “[F]aith, unless hope is added to it and charity too, neither unites him perfectly with Christ nor makes him a living member of his body”.[2]

Because justification entails sanctification—uniting oneself “perfectly with Christ”—we could say that justification is through faith, of course, but precisely because it is through faith is it through charity and hope too. As the fundamental orientation of man’s being, faith—with hope—involves works: Trent says that good works are not unlike the “co-operation” of faith.[3] Likewise, Saint James writes, and for the same reason, that faith “if it does not have works, is dead” (Jam 2:17).

There is a great passage in the Saint Paul’s Letter to the Galatians: “For in Christ Jesus, neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love” (Gal 5:6). This has been the central message of each post in this series. Man is saved by faith working through love. Saint Paul’s writing eliminates the possibility of separating by a firm wall justification and sanctification, faith and love. Trent uses this passage in order to develop the Church’s doctrine:

“From apostolic tradition, catechumens seek this faith from the church before the sacrament of baptism when they ask for the faith that gives eternal life; and this, without hope and charity, faith cannot give. Consequently, they immediately hear the word of Christ: If you would enter life, keep the commandments. Thus, receiving true and christian justness in exchange for that which Adam…lost for himself and for us, the reborn are immediately ordered to preserve the justice freely granted to them through Jesus Christ in a pure and spotless state like a best robe, so that they may carry it before the tribunal of our lord Jesus Christ and possess eternal life”.[4]

Nonetheless, this is where another difference exists betweent he Catholic and Protestant position. If it is the case that what “counts for anything” (cf. Gal 5:6) is faith working through love, then it follows that charity and service (living as Christ lived, cf. Mk 10:45) clearly enhance the life of the Christian. (Here the Protestant would disagree.) Authentic charity and service originates from the goodness of God; thus it seems understandable that in the genuine giving of oneself to others, man is following Jesus Christ and so walking toward—closer to that goal of—perfection, happiness. The Council states:

If anyone says that justice once received is neither preserved nor increased in the sight of God by good works, but that the works themselves are no more than the effects and signs of the justification obtained…let him be anathema.[5]

Contrary to this canon, Martin Luther writes that the “Word of God cannot be…cherished by any works”.[6] This is problematic. In light of our introductory comments about love and charity, it is quite obvious that the Christian certainly cherishes the whole Gospel message in a life of charity toward God and so one another: “[L]et us love one another…Whoever is without love does not know God” (1 Jn 4:7,8). When we love, we approach God—not out of reciprocity, but because we partake in His very nature. Luther is correct that it is “foolish” to believe “that justification is acquired by works”.[7] However, he is wrong to consider good works as merely the effects and signs of the justification obtained. For, when man loves, he walks closer to God via the Bridge that is Jesus Christ.

There is one more passage from Scripture that I think would be benefical to consider here. The Prince of the Apostles writes: “The end of all things is at hand. Therefore, be serious and sober for prayers. Above all, let your love for one another be intense, because love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Pet 4:7-8). Here, Peter is first declaring the eschatological content of the early Christians—there was a serious sense that “the end of all things is at hand”. He therefore, for this very reason, encourages Christians to be lovers “because love covers a multitude of sins”. Perhaps the Protestant will point out here that Peter is writing to Christians, to people who have already been saved by faith. If this were the case, however, why would there be any sense to prepare oneself for “the end”? Why would Peter encourage Christians to love for the sake of holiness? Moreover, he locates love to be the way of glorifying God: “Above all, let your love…be intense…As each one has received a gift, use it to serve one another as good stewards of God’s varied grace…so that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ” (8,10-11, emphasis added).

[2] Chap 7

[3] cf. Canons concerning justification, n. 4

[4] Chap 7

[5] Canons concerning justification, n. 24

[6] p. 55

[7] p. 81

Here is where a greater distinction between Catholicism and Protestantism arises. The Protestant believes that grace is imputed. In other words, one is covered with life of Christ, and in that way we are justified—God sees not us, but His Son. So, God treats one as if he is clean knowing that it is in truth merely imputed. Hence, to the Protestant, justification is not unlike a legal declaration. God declares us good and so we we are—though only declaratory, not metaphysically and ontologically.

Perhaps a brief hypothetical situation will illustrate why this understanding is unsatisfactory. Suppose that Jenny is married to Ben; she thinks that she is living a very happy life and has a wonderful relationship with her spouse. However, Jenny is completely unaware that Ben cheats on her once a week. Is Jenny happy? Of course not. For her to have a happy relationship, what she needs are in fact elements of a good relationship: fidelity, love, humor, etc. Likewise, for a man to have a relationship with God and live in the divine realm as was in the beginning, what this requires are in fact elements of a good relationship with God. Now, closeness with God, in Jesus Christ, is brought to a totally new level—a level of reality. Jesus Christ really is the Mediator Dei. Hence, it is possible to actually be close to God in a metaphysical and ontological way. The grace of God is powerful: it does not cover up, but actually does perfect its receiving subject. Jesus Christ, by His life, death, and resurrection, really does open up for man a new way of being, an elevation of life into divinity (cf. 2 Pet 1:4; what Augustine calls “deification”). Man, in Christ, becomes a “new creation” (2 Cor 5:17)—really.

Thus, Christianity is about life. It is about a new life in Jesus Christ. Certainly, it is about “what one believes” in the colloquial understanding of that phrase. But, precisely because of that—and because of Who one believes in—Christianity’s concentration is Love. This is why in the early Church, the lifestyle of Christians was their distinctive mark. “See those Christians, see how they love”, as Tertullian says. Or in the letter to Diognetus, the author writes: “[T]here is something extraordinary about their [Christians’] lives…Christians love all men”.[2] Saint Paul says it is a “newness of life” (Rom 6:4) that the Christian has; Peter identifies it with the unique characteristic of Christianity, namely, hope: “Blessed be…God…who in his great mercy gave us a new birth to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Pet 1:3, emphasis added).

This implies, too, that a both and hermeneutic is necessary for understanding faith and love. This new way of being, the Protestant may attest simply to faith, that it is fruit of one’s faith. However, I think it is a deeper relationship and reality. Recall from the previous post: faith is the direction of life, the orientation of one’s being. To believe (“credere”) is to trust: it is trusting that God exists, and He is our stronghold; it is trusting that His only Son came to the world and by His blood has offered man expiation and a restored path into God. And this trust does not cause the Christian to love; rather, it is the Christian’s love, pure and authentically rooted in the Divine. It is this trust that the Christian communicates when he spreads the message of Jesus Christ throughout the world. However, this understanding also includes the fruit that is love: in the elevation of the self toward God, man necessarily, by the closeness of the divine light, loves truer and deeper.

Ultimately, the Catholic position is that grace is transformative, that love is greater than sin, and that the road to perfection—following Christ—is possible. Moreover, because justification involves an authentic transformation—a new orientation of the heart—it cannot be separated by a thick wall from sanctification. And all of this is not dismissing the necessity of God’s grace, like many Protestant’s assume with Catholicism. If anything, the Catholic doctrine uses grace more so than Protestantism.

[2] Office of Readings for Wednesday of the Fifth Week of Easter

Let us now take a look at Trent and see how the document identifies justification. In Chapter 7 of Session 6 of the Council, the document reads: “Justification consists not only in the forgiveness of sins but also in the sanctification and renewal of the inward being by a willing acceptance [emphasis added] of the grace and gifts…[so] that he is an heir in hope of eternal life (Tt 3, 7)”. Justification consists in a “renewal…by a willing acceptance of the grace and gifts” of God. The “renewal of the inward being” implies a sort of mysticism or elevation of oneself into God’s realm, a process that has its source in man’s “yes” to Jesus Christ. Justification also runs parallel with sanctification, becoming holy and blessed (see previous post) in God’s eyes. Communion with God, as shown by Jesus’ consistent “yes” to the Father’s will, must consist in the opening of oneself to God. So long as we knock, the door will be answerd (cf. Lk 11:9). Because justification is linked with sanctification and interior renewal, it entails a process of ascending into God—we could say theosis. However it must be emphasized that something real within the human person happens in this process of sanctification and renewal: in Jesus Christ holiness is actually possible for man. Grace and love are stronger than sin and death!

Moreover, God does not, by His grace, take control of His disciples and treat them as pawns on a chess board. It is clear in the Gospel accounts that His disciples were not always ‘on par’ (e.g., Peter’s denial). God gave man a will, and His grace never treats it robotically. Hence the Council’s position that justification includes a “willing acceptance” of God’s grace that leads toward the process of interior renewal; for true internal renewal cannot be accomplished by man’s doing alone, but requires the grace and love of His Creator. I think that it would be benefical to parallel grace with authentic freedom, that is, an authentic capability and inclination—which increases according to the freedom of the subject—to love.[2]

Ultimately a theology of repentence is being developed: justification is linked to one’s life-long journey of the self’s total orientation toward God. To repent is to completely re-orient one’s life. I think that Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger thus put it excellently, then, when he defined faith as “an existential attitude… [and] the direction of life”.[3] It is not an acknowledgement of a fact. The faith of the Christian is the direction of his life. Belief in Christ is much different than, for-instance, believing in the sphericity of the earth; belief in Christ is such that it requires a new way of being: “The way we may be sure that we know him [Jesus Christ] is to keep his commandments…whoever claims to abide in him ought to live just as he lived” (1 Jn 2: 3,5).

The document reads later: “no one can be just unless the merits of the passion of our lord Jesus Christ are communicated to him”.[4] True repentence, and true Christian living cannot be created from within by one’s own doing; contrarily, the true life requires an open heart of acceptance so that the grace of God may touch man’s heart and renew him. Only through the merits of the Crucified’s love can man experience liberation and life, and so find the true path into God. Moreover, God gave out of love so that we may, in turn, participate in love—He gives that we may give. Now, the pinnacle of divine gifts is the Son, who in Christ is charity incarnate. He is the way into God: thus, to be charity is of paramount importance in being Christian and in any dialogue about justification. In other words, because the Word became flesh, the flesh (us) can (and must) become Word in our being, and therefore, journeying through the piercings of Christ Crucified, ascend into the Heavenly Kingdom.

[2] “Sanctifying grace is an habitual gift, a stable and supernatural disposition that perfects the soul itself to enable it to live with God, to act by his love” (CCC 2000).

[3] Faith and the Future (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2009), 35

[4] Chap 7

“[I]f I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing”, writes the Great Apostle (1 Cor 13:2). Saint Paul, in multiple passages of his writings, exhorts the greatness of love. Ultimately, “love is the fulfillment of the law” (Rom 13:10). When we talk about justification, then, a proper hermeneutic of the subject must stem from love, which is the greatest of the three theological virtues (cf. 1 Cor 13:13). Moreover, it is important to see that love, which is the principle of holiness, denotes something about justification: that justification is intimitely tied up with becoming holy, i.e., sanctification.

In the Judaic tradition, the law was directed toward living a just and pious life. Thus, the fulfillment of the law, which Saint Paul identifies as love, is about justification and sanctification. So, justification and sanctification both require Love as the atomical unit. Moreover, the redemptive message of Jesus Christ is that He has brought God: following the path of life toward God, in Jesus Christ, is opened to a totally new level that supercedes the Judaic Law. In that sense is His teaching the fulfillment of the law: the object of the Law—God—is shown to the eyes of the disciple in a new light and closeness in Jesus Christ. Additionally, the awaited Messiah of the Hebrew Testament was to bring a new Torah. The Torah of Jesus Christ is Himself: He is the Word. Now, the Torah was perhaps the greatest medium into God; hence, in Jesus Christ—the New Torah, the Word of God in person—a central component of living justly and piously is the Word of God Himself, who, in Jesus Christ is Love incarnate. Consequently—and this is of no surprise—Jesus Himself preaches that the road to perfection lies in following him (cf. Mt 19:21): “Perfection, the state of being holy as God is holy, as demanded by the Torah, now consists in following Jesus.”[1] And what this means is that Love is the “true morality of the Christian”[2], the “fire that purifies and unifies…making man one with himself, inasmuch as it makes him one in God’s eyes…This is how man enters God’s dwelling place and becomes able to see him. And that is just what it means for him to be ‘blessed’”.[3]

There is a further implication if love is the center of this theological structure: precisely because it is love that is the principle ingredient of justification, sanctification, and salvation, it is true and necessary that an orthodox understanding of soteriology stems from the gratuity of God.[4] In the descent of God to the Cross, He opens up a bridge into Himself; He gives that we may give; it is by His grace that man ascends into the Divine (cf. Rom 3:24). And, moreover, just as God reaches man through a humble descent, so man reaches God through that same path: through the Spirit, in Christ, to the Father. Here it cannot be stressed enough: the ascent into God is a path. It is a journey, an adventure, and it requires one’s life. Simultaneously, it is clear that Christianity is about an authentic relationship with the other, namely, God, and precisely because of that, Christianity is also about genuine transformation, renewal, and the elevation of being to a supernatural level within the heart of God Himself.

[2] Ibid., 99

[3] Ibid., 95-ff.

[4] cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, ¶ 1994

Orthodoxy is necessary for evangelization to occur. Without it, one hasn’t anything to share, but their own conjecture and opinion. Without orthodoxy, there is nothing to share, and no need to share it. For evangelization to have meaning there is a necessary precursor of catholicity (right thinking-truth, fullness of faith and universal mission). Evangelization is about conversion of hearts, leading others to Christ through word and proclamation, into his visible body, the Church.

The idea that one would share their faith so that others might convert is odd to many even among Catholics.  Too often I hear that one just needs to be a good person and when people notice, they will inquire as to the reason.  The quote by St. Francis of Assisi, ”Preach the gospel and, if necessary, use words,” has become a mantra to not use words at all.  Can you imagine if the Apostles followed this principle?  While our personal witness and holiness of life is important and necessary, so is being able and willing to articulate and share the faith we hold so dear.  It is not an either/or, but a both/and.  After the Second Vatican Council we have had an emphasis on our univeral call to holiness.  What has not, in my opinion, been equally emphasized (outside of social action), is our universal call to mission.  These two principles: holiness of life and sharing this with others must go hand in hand.  We have two goals in life– to become holy and to lead others to holiness!  

And, we need to ask ourselves how are we going to become holy?  It is only through a total gift of self.  It is through giving, that we gain.  So too with our faith.  If we want to gain in faith, we need to give it away.  If we want to gain in holiness, we (in a sense) need to give it away.  Holiness is not possible without mission.

1. Ad Gentes 2

If you have never read the documents of the Second Vatican Council – read them! The council is a gift and a blessing to the Church, and the documents are beautiful! We should embrace them, understand them, and get as many people to read them as we can.  We should not run from the council or blame the council, but rather to be orthodox is to embrace the council, realizing that it is still being interpred and implemented. But, when you do pick up these documents, read it by the letter guided by the spirit for understanding and deeper reflection. This distinguishes orthodoxy from others who read the Second Vatican Council looking for what is written between the lines, or read it as a political account of the conversatives in the Roman Curia versus those progressives who wanted change. We don’t read it by the spirit, but rather we read it IN the Spirit. We don’t look for what is between the lines, but what is right there on the page. That is a huge difference.

Furthermore, we want to read the documents as interpreted through the magisterium believing the Holy Spirit continues to work through the teaching office of the Church. We don’t believe it to be a break with the past, but rather we see it in the continuous tradition of the Church. The right blames the council, believing the council to be a mistake and a cause of confusion and dismantling the tradition and liturgy of the Church. The left views it as a break with the past, in the word of Pope Benedict, they view it as a “hermeneutic of discontinuity and rupture.” Both parties skeptical of the leadership of JP II–failed to restore what was, the other because he supposedly tried to do just that.

I believe that we are still trying to answer a fundamental question of the Second Vatican Council, “Church what do you say of yourself?” We have yet to come to grips with who we are as Church? We are in an identity crisis. We don’t know who we are. In a crisis of identity we discover who we are by memory. We look back to move forward. We remember our tradition, we remember the saints. Is this not what we do in the Mass? The past becomes the present, the body of Christ past, present, and future is united around the Eucharist, and we discover who we are. This same hermeneutic and belief regarding the Mass, is how we read any council, but most certainly how we come to understand Vatican II.

Orthodox is not conservative although it can be thought to be so from those on a more progressive or liberal perspective. It is not liberal although it can be thought to be so from some who are from a very conservative viewpoint. It is not a middle of the road position either as you might think using these political terms. Where is the middle between right and wrong? I am not suggesting that either conservative or liberal is right and the other wrong. Rather, I am suggesting that “right” is to think in line with the Church and “wrong” is to not. One cannot pick and choose what they will believe and what they will not believe, what they will hold true, and what they won’t. To that, the term “cafeteria Catholic” was coined. This is relativism and it runs rampant even among Catholics. Cardinal Ratzinger before he was elected Pope says of Relativism, “Whereas relativism, which is letting oneself be tossed and swept along by every wind of teaching, looks like the only attitude acceptable to today’s standards. We are moving towards a dictatorship of relativism which does not recognize anything for certain and which has as its highest goal ones own ego and ones own desire.” A revolution of relativism has taken over our world and infiltrated our Church. It is this revolution that I am countering with another–orthodoxy. In my investigation into the Catholic Church I quickly learned that Catholicism is a package deal with one teaching affecting another and the way we pray affecting the way we live. As I recognized the relativism of the Protestant denominations, I read on the door of the Catholic Church that the “cafeteria is closed.”

Orthodoxy brings with it unity, freedom, and love. It brings with it a sense of comfort not having to rely on our own abilities to make up new doctrine or ways to express our devotion to God. Orthodoxy has a spirit of humbleness about it–not one of triumphitalism. How does one know they are in line with the teaching of the Church? Seems sort of arrogant to say as if we are saying, “We are right and you are not.” In a world of tolerance and non-judgmental attitudes for us to say we are in line with truth and believe rightly sounds rather pompous and egotistical. The reality is there is nothing brash or arrogant about it, but rather quite the opposite–it is really what it claims to be, poor in spirit. Because for instance we are open to correction, open to being wrong. Conforming our thoughts and opinions with that of the Church, not putting our own opinions above that of the Church’s. It truly is a self-emptying and at times a self-sacrifice. It is saying, “I must decrease and you must increase.” More than that, we seek to understand where we error so as to explain the faith it all its splendor. It is a recognition that we are sinners in need of guidance, direction, and healing. We find this in the arms of the Church–in orthodoxy. It is freeing, freeing us to get outside ourselves to serve and to go out to spread the good news in witness and word.

Orthodoxy is not stagnant, but rather adventurous. It is not passive, but dynamic. G.K. Chesterton in his book Orthodoxy remarks that it would be easy to go along with heresy after heresy in its history. “But to avoid them all has been one whirling adventure; and in my vision the heavenly chariot flies thundering through the ages, the dull heresies sprawling and prostrate, the wild truth reeling but erect.” We are in a boat, the Church that is often tossed about by the waves of thought never to be capsized.

Orthodoxy is focused on Christ and as such is closely associated with the Eucharist. Orthodoxy only is possible through the revelation of God fully expresssed in the person of Christ. The “source” of which orthodoxy draws its life is the Eucharist and the Eucharist is the summit of which orthodoxy points towards.