The only life worth living is a life worth dying for.
Author: Meg
I'm a Catholic, madly in love with the Lord, His Word, His Bride the Church, and especially His Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity in the Eucharist. I'm committed to the Church not because I was raised this way but because the Lord has drawn my heart and convicted my reason. After 2 degrees in theology and 5 years in the classroom, I quit my 9-5 to follow Christ more literally. Since May of 2012, I've been a hobo for Christ; I live out of my car and travel the country speaking to youth and adults, giving retreats, blogging, and trying to rock the world for Jesus.
I was chatting with a dear friend at a St. Nick’s party last night (sporting purple in honor of Advent because I’m cool like that) when my friend stopped mid sentence, said, “Wait a second. I have to change the song,” and disappeared into the crowd.
At this point, the conversation was louder than the music, so I couldn’t hear the song. Was it inappropriate? I didn’t think Christina had Ludacris on her ipod. A Christmas song that she had to change because it was Advent, though? Much more likely. I asked her when she came back.
“No, it was just too slow.” Then she looked a little sheepish. “I listen to Christmas music in Advent–I’m not good about that.”
Now I’ve taken many a stand against Christmas music during Advent, but it hit me in that moment that there isn’t anything “good” about abstaining from Christmas until Christmas. I don’t hold off on “O Holy Night” as a sacrifice, I do it because I want to live in the longing. I love the ache and hope and anticipation of Advent and if I start celebrating Christmas early I lose that. I’m a melancholic and I don’t want to skip to the joy because for me joy is nothing without the pain that precedes it.
But Christina’s a sanguine. She needs that Christmas joy in early Advent because starting to celebrate Christmas is what prepares her to celebrate Christmas. For her, baking Christmas cookies, hanging lights, and listening to “Silent Night” is a way of preparing herself for the day that she knows hasn’t yet come.
It’s the difference between fasting before a feast and getting a foretaste by sampling the dishes. They’re both about building the excitement and anticipation. Neither one is wrong.
So in the midst of all these posts about what to do during Advent (and in lieu of the one I’ve been planning all week), I just want to tell you that you’re doing it right. If you’re spending a little extra time in prayer, finding a little extra silence, and living Advent in the way that brings you closest to Christ, you’ve got it. Rock out to Christmas music 24-7 or turn your radio off for the next 24 days–I won’t judge. Go to every Christmas party in town or claim a religious obligation to stay home–whatever floats your boat. Replace all your children’s books with nativity stories and their toys with nativity toys or cut the board books in half so they’ve only got Mary’s journey and not the nativity itself. Do Santa or St. Nick or Epiphany or no gifts at all. As long as it’s about Jesus, ain’t nothing wrong with a little bit of the secular.
Just don’t stress. Don’t feel like you have to sing the Advent songs and do the Advent crafts and bake the Advent bread.1 Don’t feel like you have to shop till you drop or wear a Santa hat all month. The point here is to find some stillness in the cold dim of winter and to wait for the Lord.
Quit worrying about what you ought to be doing for Christmas or Advent or the end of the semester or whatever has you running around a chicken with your head cut off in this season of “silence.” Instead, take 5 minutes in prayer to ask the Lord what will be best for you and your family. Ask what prayer and reading and songs and traditions and festivities will prepare you to welcome him in time and in eternity. Cut whatever you have to cut to make room for Christ.
But don’t do it for the sake of “doing it right.” If meditating on “mild he lays his glory by, born that man no more may die” makes you fall more in love with Christ, please sing Christmas carols! Don’t deny yourself what brings you to Christ for the sake of being liturgically appropriate. If singing Christmas carols now will make you sick of them when the time comes, shut your mouth! Don’t deny yourself what brings you to Christ for the sake of being culturally appropriate.
It’s easy, when you’re trying to be a saint, to think that the harder something is, the better it is for you. Advent’s not like that. It’s not about superhuman fasting or adoration marathons. Save your windsprints up Calvary for Lent–Advent is about the slow walk to Bethlehem with Mary. And if you want to walk joyfully, singing about the king to be born, go for it. If you want to walk in wonder and awe, more power to you. If you want to cheer or be silent or shop for meaningful gifts or bake or read or whatever opens your heart to the Christ child, it’s all fine.
Because Advent isn’t about penance–not the way Lent is, anyway. Advent is about preparation. It’s about making room in our hearts for our infant King. It’s about clearing out the noise and the mess and becoming like little children again.
Maybe for you, that’s an Advent wreath and a daily holy hour and all “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” all the time. Maybe it’s baking Christmas cookies, decorating the house, and wishing everyone a merry Christmas. In the grand scheme of salvation, it doesn’t matter that your candles are the right color or your novena starts on the right day or even that your favorite Christmas song is secretly “All I Want for Christmas Is You.”2 Quit worrying about what you’re supposed to be doing on this one and just be still and know that he is God. That’s really all there is to it.
I’ve been offering you tons of fiction recommendations, but some of you may have friends awesome enough that you can give them non-fiction. Others might just be planning ahead for the gift cards you expect to get this Christmas. But head on over to the Christianity section at Barnes and Noble and the prospect of choosing a book can be overwhelming. From Christian self-help to Doctors of the Church, there’s tons out there, not all of it good. So before you hit the mall (or Better World Books1), here are my favorites. It’s been years since I’ve read some of them, but these are, for the most part, the books and authors that have had the greatest impact on my spiritual and intellectual development. I’ll give you the Apologetics books today and the spirituality and Christian living books…you know…soon.
Christian Apologetics–Books (some more theological than others) defending the divinity of Christ and the validity of Christianity. These are generally good for Catholics or Protestants, with a few exceptions that I’ll point out. Once again, asterisks mark non-Catholic authors.
C.S. Lewis*: MereChristianity. This is the first book I give to anyone who’s exploring Christianity. Again, all of Lewis’ stuff is awesome, but Mere Christianity sums all of (mere) Christianity up in one spot. While it’s only a jumping off place (largely because Lewis thinks anything beyond the basics that connect all Christians is insignificant, nothing to quibble over), it’s a great start. Best passage from the book:
“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”
St. Athanasius: On the Incarnation. I don’t remember much about this book, but soon after I read it, my 16-year-old brother declared himself an atheist. When he told me, I went straight to my computer2 and ordered him a copy, confident that it would bring him back to the flock tout de suite. I’m still convinced that he’d be Catholic today if he hadn’t lost the book in the abyss of his bedroom before he had a chance to read it. Basically, Athanasius is explaining our need for a redeemer. It’s some serious theology, but a great buy for someone who thinks he’s too smart for Christianity. Especially if that person actually happens to be smart.3
Lee Strobel*: The Case for Christ.Lee Strobel’s is a much more practical look at the issue. Strobel was an atheist journalist who set out to disprove the divinity of Christ. Turns out, it’s hard to disprove truth. Strobel shares his discoveries in a compelling book full of facts and figures that will appeal to the secular mind as well as the Christian. Strobel has written a number of other books with a similar accessible but thorough approach but I’ve found The Case for Christ most compelling.
Gregory Boyd*: Letters from a Skeptic. This book is set up in the form of letters between an Evangelical pastor and his atheist (ex-Catholic) father. It’s conversational in tone and a very easy read, engaging deeper theology than Strobel’s books. I will warn you that there are some anti-Catholic undertones–nothing offensive, but very dismissive of Catholic theology in places. What it does it does well, but I’d only give it to someone who’s solid in their Catholic faith.
G.K. Chesterton: Orthodoxy, The Everlasting Man.Also everything else. Have I mentioned that I love him? A million times? Okay, good. Everything Chesterton ever wrote was completely brilliant. Orthodoxy is like Mere Christianity for the hardcore intellectual. Any Catholic of an academic bent will love it. And Chesterton wrote it when he was still an Anglican, so many Protestants will be open to much of what he had to say as well. Chesterton is incredibly Catholic, but these two books appeal to a broader audience, from what I recall. Check out one of my favorite things ever written ever from The Everlasting Man:
Above all, would not such a new reader of the New Testament stumble over something that would startle him much more than it startles us? I have here more than once attempted the rather impossible task of reversing time and the historic method; and in fancy looking forward to the facts, instead of backward through the memories. So I have imagined the monster that man might have seemed at first to the mere nature around him. We should have a worse shock if we really imagined the nature of Christ named for the first time. What should we feel at the first whisper of a certain suggestion about a certain man? Certainly it is not for us to blame anybody who should find that first wild whisper merely impious and insane. On the contrary, stumbling on that rock of scandal is the first step. Stark staring incredulity is a far more loyal tribute to that truth than a modernist metaphysic that would make it out merely a matter of degree. It were better to rend our robes with a great cry against blasphemy, like Caiaphas in the judgement, or to lay hold of the man as a maniac possessed of devils like the kinsmen and the crowd, rather than to stand stupidly debating fine shades of pantheism in the presence of so catastrophic a claim. There is more of the wisdom that is one with surprise in any simple person, full of the sensitiveness of simplicity, who should expect the grass to wither and the birds to drop dead out of the air, when a strolling carpenter’s apprentice said calmly and almost carelessly, like one looking over his shoulder: ‘Before Abraham was, I am.’
Seriously, don’t you just want to ninja kick something after that? No? Maybe I’ll post a video of me reading it–I’m told it’s quite an experience to watch.
I haven’t read A Doctor at Calvary, but I’ve heard it’s wonderful. Barbet is an M.D. who uses the Shroud of Turin, archaeology, history–all kinds of smart guy stuff–to determine what exactly was going on during the Passion. From what I’m told, it’s a thorough and accurate explanation of Christ’s suffering, a necessary step in the defense of the Resurrection.
Catholic Apologetics–A series of authors (grouped loosely from most important–in my mind–to least) who all seem to be male converts from Protestantism. Maybe this cradle Catholic chick needs to get on her game and write her apologetics book….
Scott Hahn. This agnostic turned Presbyterian minister turned Catholic theologian may have done more to revive the Catholic Church in America than any other layman.4 His puns may drive you nuts, but he writes popular theology that manages not to be ing”pop” theology, make my jaw drop at least once every chapter. The connections he makes between the Church and the Old Testament–I tell you what, they’ll blow your mind. Rome Sweet Home is a great choice for someone who’s wading in the Tiber.5 It outlines Hahn and his wife Kimberly’s path to conversion and covers most of the major apologetic points along the way.6Hail, Holy Queen is another favorite of mine, but really, they’re all good and very readable.
Peter Kreeft. Kreeft is a Catholic theologian (another convert) at Boston College, but don’t hold it against him.7 He has a less Scriptural approach than Hahn, looking at things from a more philosophical perspective. He also engages specific common questions more than Hahn, writing books like Angels and Demons and Socrates Meets Jesus. My favorite of his books (and I haven’t read terribly many) was Fundamentals of the Faith, which really is Christian apologetics, not Catholic specifically, but we’ll let it slide. He defends the creed in short, very readable essays.8 My friend Mike says Kreeft’s book Jesus Shockis one of the best books he’s ever read. I haven’t read it yet, but Mike’s got good taste,9 so give it a shot.
Dave Armstrong. Armstrong, also a convert, is similar to Hahn in that he’s deeply Scriptural, but Armstrong is much more about proof-texting. The thing is, he does it within the context of Scripture as a whole and ties it all together so it doesn’t feel disjointed the way apologetics often does. Try A Biblical Defense of Catholicism to start with and go from there.
Thomas Howard. Anyone want to guess if he’s a convert? You got it. His On Being Catholic is powerful apologetics, for sure, but it’s also beautiful. That’s a very hard combination to manage, but Thomas does it masterfully. The chapter on the Mass in this book is my favorite thing I’ve ever, ever read on the Mass. That alone should convince you to buy it.
Karl Keating. Convert. Keating’s Catholicism and Fundamentalism has an impeccable explanation of why we need the Church. After I taught it to a senior class, I had an agnostic in the back raise his hand and ask, “So, is there any way an intelligent person can not be Catholic?” Check and mate, my friend. This book in particular has some irrelevant chapters in the middle, but if you ignore those overly-specific sections, it’s excellent.
It’s not apologetics, really, but you do have a Catechism, right? If you need one, get the green one, not the white one. It’s got better bonus features in the back–a glossary and everything! And the new YouCat is really quite good–interesting with awesome quotations in the margins and mostly non-awkward pictures. It would make a great confirmation present.10
It’s rather a daunting list, I know, but what a blessing to be part of such a rich theological tradition! If you’re just beginning, start with Mere Christianity and Hahn’s Reasons to Believe. Then add some Strobel, a little Kreeft, all the Chesterton, and before you know it you’ll be blogging me out of business! Let me know when you’ve read all these and I’ll make you another list. We wouldn’t want anybody to be without a book, now would we?
Speaking of books, how about the greatest book ever? If you want to join me in reading the whole Bible through in one year (and you know you have to read the whole thing someday), today’s the best day to start! Print off my nifty little schedule here, spend 5-20 minutes a day in the Word, and watch your life change.
I really don’t get anything for all the press I give them, they’re just that awesome. [↩]
After I finished treating him in a kind and understanding manner, of course. [↩]
The translation linked above has an introduction by C.S. Lewis–how fun! You can buy a real book, too, but the whole text is online. [↩]
I’m basing this on nothing, but I really like his books. [↩]
Considering converting to Catholicism. Get it? Because the Tiber is the river in Rome? [↩]
Caveat: it’s filled with awkward family pictures. Might not be suitable for teens who eschew anything uncool. [↩]
Or a Christmas gift if the kid is a Jesus nerd, but otherwise giving a teenager a catechism instead of an itunes gift card might just make him hate Jesus. [↩]
Somehow slapping the name Christian on a work of art seems to excuse mediocrity for modern Christians. We listen to lame music, hang pathetic art, and read dull, saccharine novels because they’re Christian. We know in our hearts that God is beauty as well as truth and goodness but we read worthless and uninteresting novels because they’re Christian. My friends, Christian novelists are heirs to the legacy of Dante and Milton–there is power and brilliance in the works of those who truly seek God in fiction. In this installment of your Christmas list, I thought I’d recommend some of the greatest Christian fiction I’ve ever read–bearing in mind that “Christian” doesn’t mean it’s pleasant or evangelical or about a handsome young pastor with a dark past who moves to town just before a very special Christmas. Christian novels shouldn’t read like Lifetime movies, they should read like life.
(Books by non-Catholic authors are marked with an asterisk in case that makes a difference either way.)
For the Ladies
As in my last post, I don’t have much to say about books that are particularly good for men, largely because I’m not one. There are some books, however, that I know would do very little for most men but have been a huge blessing for me. I told you before about Francine Rivers, but I’ll summarize in case you missed it:
If you’re a sucker for a love story, you won’t do better than Redeeming Love* by Francine Rivers. The author was a romance novelist before she became a Christian, so she’s a good writer with a good message. Redeeming Love modernizes the book of Hosea,1 following Michael Hosea–who is hands down the holiest and most attractive male character I’ve ever read–as he marries a woman he knows is a prostitute. She’s so broken but he’s so good. Even on a shallow level, it’s a beautiful story; once you realize it’s about God’s love for you, it’ll break your heart. After the Bible, it may be the most important book a woman can read.
If a perfect man doesn’t do it for you and you need more character development in your romantic interests, try Rivers’ Mark of the Lion* series. This series has some drawbacks (a really slow start, for one), but once you’re drawn in, you’ll be fascinated by the goodness of the Christian slave girl, the dramatic consequences of evil choices, and the desperate love that breaks down barriers.
If you know a woman who hasn’t read these books, stop what you’re doing right now and buy them. I seriously buy Redeeming Love in bulk and hand it out. I’ve known a number of teenage girls whose lives have been changed by Michael Hosea in Redeeming Love. Tell them that girls who hate reading love this book–I promise they’ll love it, too. Forget the rest of the “Inspirational Fiction” section, all full of forgettable romance novels with the sex cut out–Francine Rivers is the real deal.
Another great series of books for women is Orson Scott Card’sWomen of Genesis*series. Card (a Mormon) novelizes Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, and Leah. These books are definitely fiction but there’s enough of the Scriptural story that the Bible begins to take on new life. Card’s characters are complex and enthralling–I’ll warn you that I’ve had more trouble putting his books down than any other books I’ve ever read. Most of his books are great,2 but these are more than great–they’re moving. Buy them for women who are serious about their faith but hungry for more.
Teenage girls will love Regina Doman‘s fairy tales. They’re fascinating and quite romantic, wildly Catholic but without being ridiculous. I was so caught up in The Midnight Dancers that I couldn’t put it down–even when my mother called. I talked to her on the phone for 20 minutes while reading my book.3 The books are pretty intense, but I’ve known middle schoolers who loved them and I adored them as an adult. If you like fairy tales, they’re definitely worth trying.
I’ll give a shout out here to Kristin Lavransdatter because everybody else loves Sigrid Undset. I thought they were alternately dull and infuriating, but I guess there’s no accounting for taste. Most Christian women I know who’ve read them are ready to tattoo Kristin’s face on their biceps. For me, the highlight was the heroine’s death. But she won the Nobel prize in literature largely because of these books, so I’m willing to admit that I’m probably wrong on this one. Give them a shot–I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Great Christian Literature
Anyone can look at the New York Times bestsellers list and find a few decent (and some not-so-decent) books to hand out to the random people who show up unexpectedly at Christmas dinner, books that one barely has to be literate to enjoy. Then there are those books that demand attention and analysis, books that require hard work but are rewarding, emotionally and spiritually. The books that follow are better suited towards your intellectual friends, so don’t hand them out indiscriminately, but the right one could be life-changing.
I already told you about Shusaku Endo’sSilenceand Graham Greene’s The Power and the Glory, stories of two very different priests on the run during times of persecution in Japan and Mexico respectively. Endo’s hero will challenge you to suffer for Christ while Greene’s will show you that you, too, fall short. Why not buy them both for a little balance? They’re convicting for any serious Christian, Catholic or not.
While you’re at it, throw in Greene’s The End of the Affair, a story of conversion and commitment to Christ whatever the cost. Greene’s characters are so real they hurt and while you find yourself hating them at times, you can’t get them out of your head. Graham Greene had the literary distinction, from what I’ve read, of being a great sinner. He had the spiritual distinction of knowing it. In his works, we find a real sense of how one ought to live coupled with the despair that follows failure. He can be terribly depressing, but there’s nothing saccharine about him. A great read for someone who’s learning the cost of discipleship–and aren’t we all?
It might seem strange, but I’m actually going to throw a C.S. Lewis book into the literature category. I love Jack4 as much as anyone,5 but most of his works are far too accessible to be considered great literature.6 Lewis generally wrote theology and allegory for the common man (or child), so he rarely did much that takes serious thought to understand. Till We Have Faces* is a notable exception. Lewis rewrites the tale of Psyche and Cupid from the perspective of the jealous and then guilt-wracked older sister. There’s something cold and painful about this book, but if you can get through to the end, it’s also cathartic. I’ll be completely honest with you–I don’t understand a lot of what Lewis is doing here. Maybe that’s why I’m sticking it in the literature category…. Anyway, it’s a great book for anyone indy and angsty, so go ahead and check your hipster cousin off the list with this one. Or someone who loves mythology or a Lewis fan who’s growing up or someone with sibling rivalry issues–it covers a lot of bases.
The Brothers Karamazov* is rather slow for the first 300 pages, but the next 700 really make up for it. What I’m saying is, you pretty much have to know someone who loves great literature for this to be anything other than an exceedingly large doorstop. But if you can find a Christian intellectual who is in the enviable position of not yet having read this book, buy it for her and then sit and watch her read it. It’ll be slow going for 5 hours or so, but eventually, you’ll be able to watch the passion and intrigue and terror and beauty and purpose flash across her face as she trips over herself to get to the end while slowing herself down to take in every detail. Dostoevsky’s tough to read, but so, so worth it.
G.K. Chesterton is famous for his wit in defense of the faith, but he was quite the novelist as well. The Man Who Was Thursday is his most famous, but I prefer Manalive. Chesterton’s novels are all a bit absurd and fairly confusing but Manalive is so joyful that you don’t mind feeling a bit twisted up. I won’t spoil it by telling you anything about it, just that I felt as though I was glowing after I read it. It’s rejuvenating somehow–definitely worth a read. If you know someone who is incredibly joyful or (conversely) who needs a shot of joy in his life, Manalive could fit the bill.
Great Christian Books
The distinction I’m trying to make here is not between literature and lame Christian novels that you can buy by the cartload at WalMart. These books are still high quality writing; some, I think, will be read centuries from now. But they are a little more accessible and a little less like your sophomore lit class in college. If the last category was good for intellectuals and academics, this category will generally appeal to your average Joe as well. Trust me–ain’t nobody too smart for Tolkien. The man was a genius.
Speaking of Tolkien, The Hobbitand The Lord of the Ringsare quite possibly the greatest Catholic novels of all time. It was hard to decide whether to put Tolkien in this category or the last, but he’s so widely read that I think I’ll leave him here. Tolkien is far more sophisticated than mere allegory–sometimes I wonder if he even realized how deeply Catholic his work was. Galadriel is the Blessed Virgin Mary and lembas is the Eucharist and the steward of Gondor is the pope. But more than that, Frodo is a real hero, dirty and weak just like us. Sam is the greatest friend in all of literature, Simon of Cyrene when Frodo can’t make it alone. There is true valor and loyalty and pain and betrayal. If you haven’t read these yet, forget all your prejudices against fantasy and get ready for a modern epic. Some of his descriptions might merit a little bit of skimming if you’re more plot-driven, but push through until you’re immersed in Middle Earth. Then watch the movies again–they’re even better on the other side.
Marilynne Robinson’sGilead*is one of those books that you just can’t describe. Like Manalive, it leaves you joyful and refreshed. In some ways, it reads like a sermon, but no sermon you’ve ever heard. I’m beginning to think I’m just terrible at reviewing books, so I’ll stick with this: I found life more beautiful after I finished this book. Buy this for someone with a taste for poetry–there’s something ethereal about this one.
At the other end of the Chesterton spectrum from his intellectual novels, we have the Father Brown mysteries. Father Brown is a meek little priest who finds himself in the most improbable of situations, stumbling across dead body after dead body without any of the gory details or macabre undertones of so many modern mysteries. Chesterton’s stories are impossible to figure out, but they make so much sense in retrospect that it doesn’t even make me angry–I’m just excited to see how it all fits together. It might drive me nuts if these were novels, but they’re short stories, so the suspense is resolved pretty quickly. Think Encyclopedia Brown for the grown-up mind with some one-liners that’ll make you stop and think; buy them for pretty much anyone–they’re fun and fairly easy to read.
Everything C.S. Lewis ever wrote is worth reading, but my favorite of his adult fiction has to be The Screwtape Letters*. Lewis writes from the perspective of a senior demon giving his nephew advice as his nephew tries to woo a human soul to perdition. His writing is clever and interesting and cuts to the heart, shedding light on temptation and human nature in a way that his more prosaic works never could. It’s a perfect gift for someone who doesn’t read non-fiction but is still hungry for spiritual growth.
Bonus Books
I know you could probably come up with a list a mile long of great books without Christian themes, but I had to give a nod to these two non-Christian gems, one because it’s riotously funny, the other because it’s heartrendingly painful.
Have you read The Princess Bride*? I mean, I assume you’ve seen the movie. If not, shame on you! Do it now! But the book is seriously (not to be a cliché) so much better. Goldman pretends that he’s translating a terribly boring book, summarizing 60 pages of analysis of the varies ladies’ hats to be seen at court that season in ways that actually make me laugh out loud. The book is wildly funny and entertaining–a good gift for the non-Christian on your list or for anyone who loves to laugh.
On the opposite end of the spectrum (but still quite secular) is one of the most powerful, chilling, painful, beautiful books I’ve ever read. When a dear friend recommended a book that she’d read in her high school English class, I was expecting a Johnny Tremain at best. Oh, but The Book Thief*, friends. It’ll break your heart. Buy it for someone who feels deeply–and make sure he’s got tissues.
If you’re not much of a reader, maybe try reading one or two of these books for Advent–Gilead could be a good one, but The Princess Bride doesn’t count. If you’ve already read all of these, try passing them on to a friend. People who might not otherwise read Christian books are much more likely to if you pick out a book just for them and ask them to tell you their thoughts. However you approach this, remember that literacy is an incredible gift, one that many people around the world long for. Be a good steward of that blessing and use your time and your intellect for transformation, not just twitter.
Hook me up with your recommendations in the comments and don’t forget to check Better World Books for great bargains that save the world. If you want recommendations for someone these books wouldn’t fit, ask that in the comments, too. I’ll be back in a few days with my favorite theology and spirituality books. Get excited!
Alvin Maker, Enchantment, Ender’s Game, to name a few. [↩]
Sorry, Mama!! I called you back the next day and totally paid attention. [↩]
That was his nickname. His given name was Clive Staples Lewis. Hence the nickname. [↩]
Remember how his Chronicles were the theme of my childhood? I’m not even exaggerating when I tell you that he was known as St. C.S. Lewis in my home. [↩]
Although who decides, really? Why is a book more “literary” simply because you need a college professor to help you understand it? [↩]
If you’re anything like me, you didn’t go anywhere near anything retail today. I hate crowds and I hate consumerism and I hate spending money I don’t have, so Black Friday isn’t really my thing. Instead, I’m holed up with some cute babies planning to crochet most of my Christmas presents and buy books for the rest. Because ipods will be old in 6 months, plastic toys will break, and nobody needs another tie. The perfect book, on the other hand, won’t be thrown in a drawer and forgotten a day or a year from now. The right book can open your mind and your heart. It can remind you how beautiful life is, draw you closer to Christ, or get you actually laughing out loud. With little ones, it can form the imagination, instill a sense of good and evil, or introduce you to Scripture. To help you out, I thought I’d put together a list of some of my favorites for various different ages. I know I’ll miss a ton, so please add your favorites in the comments!
When shopping, please check out Better World Books. Their prices are usually the best (or close to it) and they donate books and money to increase literacy around the world. Definitely a cause I can get behind. Or go with DealOz–they’ll search about a jillion sites to find you the best price on the web.
For little Christians
Babies (and their parents) love board books, especially those that are Mass-appropriate. The Saving Name of God the Son uses very theological language–not so child-friendly. But the images are gorgeous and the language is beautiful. As every parent knows, children memorize lines from books. Why not teach them the prologue to John’s Gospel instead of a litany of places Spot isn’t?
If you’re going to give a boring (but edifying) book, try pairing it with one of the Lift the FlapBiblebooks. They’re a little text-heavy for toddlers, but the many flaps will keep them entertained as you read or–wonder of wonders–listen to the homily. Plus, they’re cute and durable, a rarity among board books. My niece and nephew love them–and haven’t destroyed them, despite 3 years of tugging.
Now listen up–this is important. My favorite children’s Bible is the Jesus Storybook Bible. It’s a Protestant Bible so it’s missing some bits and you MUST change the words of the Last Supper–maybe even with a sharpie–but other than that, it seems to be theologically fairly sound. What matters is that the stories are so beautifully told that children–and adults–love it. It’s interesting, it’s entertaining–please, if you know a child who is (or will be) between 18 months and 10 years old, buy him this book for Christmas. You’ll be so glad you did. Don’t believe me? You can read lots of it by looking inside it at Amazon. Go do it now, I’ll wait…. See what I mean?
For kids who are a little older and ready to start hunting, try an alternative to Where’s Waldo? The Can You Find books–Can You Find Jesus,Can You Find Followers of Jesus, Can You Find Bible Heroes, and Can You Find Saints1–have the same search-and-find feel with the added bonus of catechesis. The illustrations are fabulous and there are helpful parent guides in the back. Depending on the kid, maybe age 5 and up? It’s hard to know–I tend to hang out with crazy smart toddlers. Natalie loved these books when she was 3.
For Kids Aged 8 and Up
I love catechesis as much as anyone, but sometimes you just want to buy a book that’s fun. For kids who love to read (or need to learn to), try some good, old-fashioned fantasy. E. Nesbit and Edward Eager write lovely books about normal kids who find a touch of magic to liven up their boring summers. The characters (the non-magical ones, anyway) are very real and their relationships complicated but beautiful–they always made me want to spend time with my siblings, an almost miraculous feat when there were still books to be read.
We can’t forget the Chronicles of Narnia–beautifully written, subtly Christian,2 and practically Scripture in my family. Each child received a boxed set3 for first communion, although our parents had been reading them to us since infancy. I have distinct memories of going to pick my mom up from work 45 minutes early so we could sit in the car and listen to our dad reading the Chronicles. Every child should read these books–every adult, too. While you’re at it, buy the first movie (but not the next two). Read the book first, then get lost in Narnia as you watch the movie. I could go on for an entire post about everything that’s wrong with that movie, but when push comes to shove, it takes you to Narnia. Narnia baptized my imagination–definitely top ten in my required reading list.
Bear in mind that I don’t actually have any idea about reading levels. Most kids probably couldn’t read these until more like 5th grade. But some will be ready much earlier. When in doubt, get a book they’ll grow into, right?
For Tweens
Isn’t that an awful word? But it’s the least awkward way to say 10-14-year-old girls, which is what I’m going for. Really, these are some of my favorite books ever, ever, ever.
L.M. Montgomery of Anne of Green Gables fame wrote some of the most beautiful, moving fiction I’ve ever encountered. Particular favorites include The Blue Castle, Pat of Silver Bush, Mistress Pat, and all her collected short stories. I literally own every book she ever wrote, boxed up and waiting for my nieces to be old enough to love them. There’s an ache in Montgomery’s heroines; she sums up the single girl’s suffering perfectly in Anne of the Island:
Anne was always glad in the happiness of her friends; but it is sometimes a little lonely to be surrounded everywhere by happiness that is not your own.
Little girls love Montgomer’y’s Anne and The Story Girl. As they grow, they’ll love all the others as well. If you know a girl who loves to read4 and has a sensitive, imaginative soul, please introduce her to my dear friend Anne Shirley. She’ll thank you forever.
Louisa May Alcott fits a similar type of girl. She, too, can get quite wordy and is often trying to teach a lesson.5 But for the right kind of girl (and most girls are the right kind at least for Little Women), she’s lovely.
Noel Streatfeild‘s books are easier reads. They’re about family and adversity but without the long, long descriptions of Lucy Maud and Louisa May. Start with Ballet Shoes–there’s even a good tomboy in that one for girls who aren’t so girly.
Gail Carson Levine wrote Ella Enchanted, one of my favorites for this age group.6 It’s light and easy to read, unlike some of the older books I’ve recommended, and it’s about princesses! Most of her books are–love them! Shannon Hale fits a slightly older audience, as does Juliet Marillier, but both have that fairy tale, good vs. evil feel that’s so enthralling. Their adult books are also excellent, but make sure you only give those to adults.7
I could give you a list of 30 more authors who I find fun or entertaining, but these books are more than that; they’re transformative. I’m sure I’ve missed some great ones, though–notably books for boys! Help me out in the comments and tune in tomorrow (the next day? The day after that?) for some fiction recommendations for adults (and young adults), followed by non-fiction some time thereafter.
**Nobody gave me any money for these reviews. I don’t even know how that happens to a person.**
Which, for whatever reason, isn’t on the website with the other three. [↩]
Oh, but if you like her at all you absolutely MUST read Louisa May Alcott Unmasked. It’s not for children, although there’s nothing scandalous by modern standards. It’s just some of the pot-boilers that Jo deplored in Little Women. Terribly entertaining! [↩]
Do not judge it by the movie–they’re totally different stories. [↩]
I love Marillier’s Sevenwaters series, but be warned–there’s some intense violence and at least one rape. Stick with Wildwood Dancing for teens and tweens. [↩]
Okay, I’ll jump on the bandwagon (does it count as a bandwagon if it’s the purpose of a centuries-old holiday?) and tell you some of the things I’m thankful for. In no particular order:
The way kids laugh when they’ve still got tears on their cheeks
Gelato
G.K. Chesterton
The internet
My cute brown boots
JPII
White chocolate
Perpetual adoration
Manti Te’o
Crocheting
Family
Prayer
Limeade
E. Nesbit, Eward Eager, L.M. Montgomery, Louisa May Alcott, Noel Streatfeild, and all the authors of my continued childhood
Comfy shoes
Peppermint
Memories
Hoodies
The joy of knowing my Savior
Puppies
Sleeping in
Crunch ‘n Munch
Snow
Cooking competition shows
Slinkies
Freedom and democracy
Knowing that I am loved
So there you have it–the first hundred things I thought of. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at the number of foods on the list given what Thanksgiving is really all about…. Now get off the computer and go cook something!
Friends, I’ve missed you! I’m sorry I’ve been MIA for a bit–things have been rather busy.
No, you didn’t miss an Annunciation. My rock star sister just added a pair of girls to her brood, leaving everybody with many babies to snuggle or tickle or toss in the air1 but very little time for anything else. I must have started a dozen posts in my head but by the time life winds down for the evening, I just don’t have the motivation to do anything but grin at ESPN.com.2 So I figured I’ll give you the quick versions of many of my recent thoughts and y’all can tell me if you need me to flesh any of them out.
The other day, I was struggling with a particular sin that I did not want to let go. I knew it was a problem but it just seemed too hard to fight. I honestly felt that I couldn’t even try to be better on this front and then quite suddenly I remembered the grace of the Sacrament. And, as grace would have it, confessions were starting in 20 minutes. I know I’ve told you before how wonderful this Sacrament is, but it really struck me that in that moment, I would have caved and left the sanctuary enmeshed in my sin if it weren’t for the knowledge that God would strengthen me through the Sacrament. And so far, it’s been better–praise God for grace!!
Now, I’m a surprisingly angry and impatient person, so maybe this is just me. But I’m pretty sure that 90% of my sin (and hence of my unhappiness) is a direct result of thinking that people owe me something. Like it’s somehow my right to have people turn left when there’s enough of a gap or ask me to be a bridesmaid or remember that I hate bananas. So I see it as an injustice when I’m slighted in any way. And sure, maybe I’m a decent person or have been particularly important in someone’s life. But relative to who I should be–relative to who Christ is–I’m pathetic.3 If I could get over myself and realize that I don’t deserve anything–that really, I deserve hell and eternal misery–maybe I could quit getting so ticked off at people. And maybe I could be more grateful for the things that I take for granted.
Go Irish!! Number one!! AAHHH!!!
I was expecting to be kicked out of church when Father was locking up tonight. Instead, he told me he’d come back later to turn off the lights. I’ve been kicked out of more churches than most people will go to in their lives–what a blessing to be allowed to stay with the Lord tonight.
I spoke last week on the Reformation and the core differences between Catholicism and Protestantism. There’s some apologetics in there but also some emphasis on the common ground and what we can learn from each other. A number of people mentioned that they wanted to see it, so the video’s here. Unfortunately, I don’t have the Q&A on tape–those Georgia Tech kids sure had some good questions!
In the past two weeks, I’ve done a True Love Waits retreat (middle school), a talk on holy friendships (high school), a discussion on persecution (high school), a lecture on the Reformation (college), a talk on being a new creation in Christ (middle school), and a talk on the New Evangelization (young professionals). I’m so versatile! And super available if you’re near DC–I’m in the area helping out with all my sister’s babies for a while, and I’d love to help with whatever your ministry is.
My Google Reader stresses me out.
Manti Te’o for Heisman!
Well, that was pretty easy. Maybe all those ladies who do Seven Quick Takes know what they’re doing…. Anyway, I’ll try to have something more substantial for you later in the week. Thanks for loving me even when I’m lame 🙂
Did you know my Irish are number one? Literally number one, not like how I’ve screamed disingenuously about being the best all these years. Actually number one in every single poll. And, you know, the highest student athlete graduation rate of any university. [↩]
Yes, I’m lovely and a child of God and all that, but I know who God is calling me to be and I know how I’ve treated him. He gave me dignity and I deserve to be loved and respected, but if it’s all about what *I* deserve on *my* merits, I’d better watch out. [↩]
Once you get over your misconception that purgatory’s pretty much hell, it’s actually kind of a nice idea. We get to imagine that we’re still connected with our deceased loved ones, and while we’re at it, we can pretend that we actually have the ability do something for them. Plus, if we’re kind of jerks, we know we’ve still got purgatory do deal with our mess, so we don’t really have to be good on earth, right? For those who are looking for theological platitudes, purgatory’s a win-win-win.1
But is there any truth to it? Or, as a Jehovah’s Witness I spent the other morning with said, “That’s Catechism! I want Scripture!!”2
Well, we’ll start with Scripture. But as you probably know, we in the Catholic Church use Scripture and Tradition with a healthy sprinkling of good old-fashioned reason. After all, Scripture itself doesn’t say “Scripture alone.” And, of course, there are some pretty essential truths that all Christians3 believe that can’t be found explicitly in Scripture: the Trinity, for one, and the divinity of Christ. But this is a matter for another post.4 Let’s get back to purgatory.
If you’ve been around apologetics circles much, you know that the best defense we have of purgatory comes from 2 Maccabees. It says explicitly that it’s a good thing to pray for the dead. The problem? Protestants don’t use 2 Maccabees. For a long explanation, check out this paper I wrote in grad school.5 The quick version is that 2 Maccabees belongs to that group of 7 books called the Deuterocanon by Catholics and the Apocrypha by Protestants. The Protestant claim is that Jesus didn’t use these books, so they don’t belong in the Bible. The truth is much more complicated than that, but suffice it to say that Luther didn’t say a word about getting rid of Maccabees until Johann Eck brought up this passage in a debate on purgatory at Leipzig in 1519. Basically, Eck read the passage, Luther paused, and then he said (to the shock of everyone present) that it was irrelevant because that wasn’t Scripture. It sure sounds to me like he knew he was beat, so he changed the rules.
Want to see what was so decisively pro-purgatory that Luther had to start removing books of the Bible? Check it out:
On the following day, since the task had now become urgent, Judas and his companions went to gather up the bodies of the fallen and bury them with their kindred in their ancestral tombs. But under the tunic of each of the dead they found amulets sacred to the idols of Jamnia, which the law forbids the Jews to wear. So it was clear to all that this was why these men had fallen. They all therefore praised the ways of the Lord, the just judge who brings to light the things that are hidden. Turning to supplication, they prayed that the sinful deed might be fully blotted out. The noble Judas exhorted the people to keep themselves free from sin, for they had seen with their own eyes what had happened because of the sin of those who had fallen. He then took up a collection among all his soldiers, amounting to two thousand silver drachmas, which he sent to Jerusalem to provide for an expiatory sacrifice. In doing this he acted in a very excellent and noble way, inasmuch as he had the resurrection in mind; for if he were not expecting the fallen to rise again, it would have been superfluous and foolish to pray for the dead. But if he did this with a view to the splendid reward that awaits those who had gone to rest in godliness, it was a holy and pious thought. Thus he made atonement for the dead that they might be absolved from their sin. (2 Mac 12:39-46)
So here we have these men who have died with sin on their souls. Clearly Judas is praying for the dead, and that’s a good thing. Why pray for the dead if not for their salvation? What else could they possibly need? They don’t need anything if they’re in heaven. And what could prayers possibly accomplish if they’re in hell? So they’re dead and not yet saved. Purgatory much?
In fact, Judas doesn’t just pray for them, he offers sacrifices for them after their death in the hopes that these prayers will purify their souls in the afterlife. Sounds a heck of a lot like offering Masses for the souls in purgatory to me.
But while this passage is very helpful for those of us who accept the Deuterocanon, it will accomplish very little with Protestants. If you’re really on your game, you can explain that even if this isn’t Scripture, it demonstrates what the accepted belief at the time of Christ was. If this is what people believed and Jesus said nothing to correct it, it stands to reason that they were right.
Our whole argument from Scripture doesn’t stand or fall on this passage, though. 1 Corinthians 3:10-15 talks about the process of judgment and salvation. Note that there is a process of purifying fire—what is evil will be burned, what is good will remain. And so the dead will be judged and then saved (purified) through fire.
According to the grace of God given to me, like a wise master builder I laid a foundation, and another is building upon it. But each one must be careful how he builds upon it, for no one can lay a foundation other than the one that is there, namely, Jesus Christ. If anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, or straw, the work of each will come to light, for the Day will disclose it. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire [itself] will test the quality of each one’s work. If the work stands that someone built upon the foundation, that person will receive a wage. But if someone’s work is burned up, that one will suffer loss; the person will be saved, but only as through fire.
Or how about Mt 5:25-26:
Settle with your opponent quickly while on the way to court with him. Otherwise your opponent will hand you over to the judge, and the judge will hand you over to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. Amen, I say to you, you will not be released until you have paid the last penny.
Here’s a description of a man who’s been judged and found wanting.6 He’s imprisoned, but not consigned to Gehenna as so often in the Gospels. No, this man is put in jail until he has paid the last penny. It seems that having died and been judged, he’s making up for his failings until he’s “put all the jelly beans back in the jar,” if you will. It seems, then, that there’s potential to make up for your sins after death.
And finally, Revelation 21:27, as we discussed last week. “Nothing unclean shall enter heaven.” If you’re a sinner, you’re unclean. You may have been forgiven and washed in the blood of the Lamb, but anyone who’s attached to his sin is not completely purified. Purgatory purifies you, makes you ready for heaven. Without it, those of us who aren’t as holy as though claimed by Christ ought to be—well, we’d be in a lot of trouble.
So purgatory is at least supported by Scripture, if not exactly proven without 2 Maccabees. But it’s also all over the writings of the early Church. Rather than being a medieval invention, as is often claimed, the idea of praying and even having Masses said for the dead is an ancient one, a core part of the life of the early Church.
The earliest I’ve found is from the account of the martyrdom of Perpetua and Felicity in 202. Perpetua has a vision of a dead friend suffering. She prays for him earnestly, then has a vision of him in glory. The obvious lesson is that her prayers had some effect on the state of his soul. There must, then, be something that happens after death that brings people from torment to glory.
Here are some quotations from the early Church that I’ll assume you can interpret yourself:7
Tertullian: “A woman, after the death of her husband . . . prays for his soul and asks that he may, while waiting, find rest; and that he may share in the first resurrection. And each year, on the anniversary of his death, she offers the sacrifice.” (216 AD)
St. Cyril of Jerusalem: “Then, we pray [in the anaphora] for the holy fathers and bishops who have fallen asleep, and in general for all who have fallen asleep before us, in the belief that it is a great benefit to the souls on whose behalf the supplication is offered, while the holy and tremendous Victim is present. . . . By offering to God our supplications for those who have fallen asleep, if they have sinned, we . . . offer Christ sacrificed for the sins of all, and so render favorable, for them and for us, the God who loves man.” (350 AD)
St. Monica: “Put this body anywhere! Don’t trouble yourselves about it! I simply ask you to remember me at the Lord’s altar wherever you are.” (late 4th century)
St. John Chrysostom: “Let us help and commemorate them. If Job’s sons were purified by their father’s sacrifice [Job 1:5], why would we doubt that our offerings for the dead bring them some consolation? Let us not hesitate to help those who have died and to offer our prayers for them.” (392 AD)
St. Augustine: “Temporary punishments are suffered by some in this life only, by others after death, by others both now and then; but all of them before that last and strictest judgment. But not all who suffer temporal punishments after death will come to eternal punishments, which are to follow after that judgment.” (419 AD)
St. Gregory the Great: “As for certain lesser faults, we must believe that, before the Final Judgment, there is a purifying fire. He who is truth says that whoever utters blasphemy against the Holy Spirit will be pardoned neither in this age nor in the age to come. From this sentence we understand that certain offenses can be forgiven in this age, but certain others in the age to come.” (604 AD, referencing Mt 12:32)
This clearly isn’t some later development—the concept of praying for the salvation of those who have already passed away pervades the writings of the early Church. That individuals believe something clearly doesn’t make it true. But when we see consistent support of an idea from the Church Fathers—particularly from bishops exercising their magisterial authority—it certainly supports the claim that this idea is in fact true, the consistent teaching of the Church.
Generally, I’d finish up with an explanation of the logic behind a doctrine, the reason component, but I think I pretty much covered that in my description of purgatory. Suffice it to say that the grace of God is sufficient and Christ’s sacrifice saves us, but being saved is not the same as being sanctified. If there were no opportunity for final purification, God in his justice would be bound to exclude many from the holiness of heaven. And what about those who aren’t Catholic? Certainly, God will not damn someone because he was never exposed to the Gospel, but a Hindu would be unprepared to worship the Triune God. Perhaps in that case, purgatory is more like an intensive RCIA program. In any event, purgatory is a gift from a merciful God who will stop at nothing when it comes to our salvation.
During November, the month when we commemorate our dead in a particular way, take some time to pray for the souls of the deceased. Today, Veterans Day, is a perfect day to offer a prayer or ten for the souls of those who gave their lives for our freedom, whether they died in the process or not. And while you’re at it, go ahead and ask them for their prayers, too. They’re sure not doing anything else.
P.S. If you’re in the Atlanta area, you should come to the Georgia Tech Catholic Center on Monday at 7. I’ll be speaking about the Reformation roots of the divisions in Christianity and their theological implications. Basically, some history, some apologetics, and some ecumenism to tie it together.
He followed this with, “I grew up Catholic and we never opened the Bible–not once!” My students will tell you (with some trace of bitterness, I imagine) that they had to memorize all the books of the Bible in order and at least one verse every week. Hardly a day went by that we didn’t open our Bibles. Trust me, if I believe something, I can support it from Scripture. [↩]
Although, admittedly, not Jehovah’s Witnesses. [↩]
And my talk on Monday at Georgia Tech–you should come! [↩]
Seriously, you should read it. It’s so interesting!! [↩]
Admittedly, this might not be about judgment and salvation, but every other discussion of judges in the Gospels is, so…. [↩]
Pretty much any time I list quotations from the Church Fathers, I’m indebted to www.catholic.com, an incredible resource. [↩]
This is probably the most important election of our lifetimes–certainly the most important of mine to date.1 There’s so much at stake in a frighteningly polarized nation. I already told you I believe that a vote for Obama is a vote against life and liberty.2 By now, you’ve most likely made up your mind who to vote for; maybe you’ve voted already. And now you’re sitting around anxious and miserable and dreading tomorrow morning (or very late tonight).
I want to ask you, friends, to join me in fasting and prayer not for victory but for God’s will. We may disagree on many things, but odds are good that if you’re reading this, you believe in God. And if you believe in him, you probably know (at some level) that his plans are better than all we can ask or imagine. You probably know that God works all things for good. You probably know that in God’s providence, even that terrible Friday was Good.
So today, fast with me. Maybe it’s too late for you to go water-only or maybe that’s unsafe in your situation. Give up meat for the day or sweets or soda or sitcoms or facebook.3 When we fast, we lend strength to our prayer. We tell God that our intention matters more to us than our flesh does. We’re reminded of our prayer throughout the day; skip a meal and every time your stomach rumbles, you can ask the Lord once again to bless our nation and guide our elections.
Pray with me. Go to Mass if you can or pray a Rosary. Lead your children in a prayer for our nation. Sit before the Blessed Sacrament and beg for the protection of the unborn, for the preservation of religious liberty, for justice for the poor, for aid to immigrants, for peace in our hearts and homes and streets and world. Our God moves mountains–he will answer your prayer.
Please vote. Please, please vote. We are so privileged to be able to vote and to let laziness or indifference or dinner plans keep us from the polls is unconscionable. Do what you have to do to get there. Vote.
But friends, don’t worry. Whoever is our president-elect when we wake up on Wednesday, there will be no riots. There will be no revolution. We will look tragic or smug, we will whine or brag, and we will go on with our lives. Because in America, as in so few places, we are free. And while this election will determine how free we are, the fact remains that we are blessed to live in a country where we may mistrust the government but we do not fear it. When you look at the history of the world, it almost seems a miracle.
And whatever happens, God will still be in control. Perhaps we will face systematic persecution on a large scale, the like of which no church has ever seen in this country. Perhaps the persecution will remain subtle and the temptation will be to continue to leave the poor and the marginalized in our wake. Perhaps this election will be like so many others and very little will change. Whoever our new president is, there will be suffering and joy and frustration and complacency. There will be a cross, made heavier or lighter. But God will still be God.
Whoever is elected, God will still be God.
If you’re going to join me in fasting and praying for our country and this election, would you leave a comment? Share what you’re doing if you like or just tell us that you’re in. Either way, I think we could all use the encouragement.
I have no idea why I mentioned purgatory to a Protestant friend while helping her clean her room when I was in college. Maybe because I hate cleaning and wanted credit for time served? In any event, I remember expecting it to be a throwaway comment. Until she responded.
“Purgatory? I thought we got rid of purgatory in the Middle Ages.”
Who got rid of purgatory? Since when has the Church gotten rid of anything? You seriously didn’t know Catholics believed in purgatory?
Turns out, it’s rather a hotly contested topic. So let’s explore, shall we?
First, what purgatory is not. Purgatory is not a final destination. It’s not a blank and empty place akin to limbo. It’s not a place where you earn salvation.1 Purgatory is a transient place for the cleansing (purging) of souls.
The idea is that those who die in a state of grace are saved. They’re destined for heaven. Many, though, are in need of some purification before they enter. Purgatory is a process of preparation for heaven and reparation for sins for those “who die in God’s grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified” (CCC 1030).
Preparation: “Nothing unclean shall enter it.”
The first element of purgatory is easier to understand. Revelation 21:27 tells us that nothing unclean shall enter heaven. You (I assume) and I are unclean. Despite having been restored to God’s graces by our baptism and subsequent confessions, we’re not entirely pure. In order to enter heaven, we must be cleansed. C.S. Lewis (himself a Protestant) put it this way:
“Our souls demand Purgatory, don’t they? Would it not break the heart if God said to us, ‘It is true, my son, that your breath smells and your rags drip with mud and slime, but we are charitable here and no one will upbraid you with these things, nor draw away from you. Enter into the joy’? Should we not reply, ‘With submission, sir, and if there is no objection, I’d rather be cleaned first.’ ‘It may hurt, you know’ – ‘Even so, sir.'” – C.S. Lewis, Letters To Malcolm
As always, it’s essential to point out that we are saved by God’s grace and by the merits of Christ’s Passion. We do not cleanse ourselves in purgatory, nor do the prayers of others cleanse us. God cleanses us through our suffering and in response to others’ prayers.
More than just removing your sin, though, purgatory removes your attachment to sin. I can’t imagine that many people die without even any venial sins on their souls, but most of those, I’m sure, still have some attachment to sin. Even this attachment must be cleansed before we’re able to rejoice in the presence of God.
I’ll be honest here: heaven doesn’t always sound that attractive to me. I mean, I want to be with Jesus more than anything. I’m homesick for heaven and I can’t wait to hang out with the Saints.2 I’m going to touch the leprous hands of St. Damien and hug the joyful St. Philip Neri and just stand near St. Teresa and wait for her to say something snarky. And I’m going to dance with Jesus. It’s going to be awesome.
But eternity is a long time. And I’m pretty sure eventually (within 24 hours), I’m going to get bored. I’m going to want to gossip or brag or just quit playing my stupid harp. If I went to heaven now, I wouldn’t be truly happy because I’d want to sin. See, I like my sin.3 Otherwise I wouldn’t sin. So if I’m going to be happy in heaven,4 I need to be cleansed not just of my sins (the mud of Lewis’ analogy) nor even of the residue of my sins (the stains left over–see below on reparation) but of my desire to sin (my love for mud?).
Even the cleansing isn’t enough, though. We have to be stretched, our capacity for God and good increased lest our minds literally be blown by meeting the Lord face to face. Think of it this way: you’ve been living your life in a windowless room in the dark. Heaven is like the beach at noon—you’ll go blind if God doesn’t gradually turn the lights up. And it’ll hurt like hell when he does, but you need that pain if you’re ever going to survive on the beach. Purgatory is the dimmer switch, the place where our capacity for God is stretched, our impurities refined.
This is the reason that purgatory has traditionally been described as a place of terrible suffering but also of unimaginable joy. It is a consuming fire that refines and burns off our sins, and yet it is the closest we’ve ever been to God. Wendell Berry describes the paradox:
I imagine the dead waking, dazed, into a shadowless light in which they know themselves altogether for the first time. It is a light that is merciless until they can accept its mercy; by it they are at once condemned and redeemed. It is Hell until it is Heaven. Seeing themselves in that light, if they are willing, they see how far they have failed the only justice of loving one another; it punishes them by their own judgment. And yet, in suffering that light’s awful clarity, in seeing themselves within it, they see its forgiveness and its beauty, and are consoled. In it they are loved completely, even as they have been, and so are changed into what they could not have been but what, if they could have imagined it, they would have wished to be.
Reparation: “You will not be released until you have paid the last penny.”
In addition to preparing our souls for heaven, purgatory also enables us to make up for the evil we have done on earth. Once again, let me point out that you can’t ever atone for your own sins–it is Christ who saves you, Christ who forgives you, Christ who heals you and the world. But God, good father that he is, allows us to participate in our salvation and wants us to cooperate with him.
Now God is merciful. And because he is merciful, sin has consequences. Yes, because he is merciful. God in his mercy did not want us to do what is evil without consequences to serve as deterrents. So our sin merits two kinds of punishment: eternal and temporal.
Eternal punishment is, as all Christians agree, hell. Eternal punishment is a consequence of sin, as St. Paul says: the wages of sin is death (Rom 3:23). When you go to confession, God forgives you and your eternal punishment is satisfied by the death of Christ. You no longer merit hell. But there are still consequences to your actions, damage you’ve done to yourself and others and the Church and the world. When you do penance or receive an indulgence,5 you satisfy some of the debt of temporal punishment you owe. But if you die not having satisfied all your temporal punishment, you are given the opportunity to “give back” in purgatory. With the mud analogy from above, it’s as though confession washes the mud from your baptismal garment but it’s still stained. Purgatory bleaches it whiter than snow.
But your sin doesn’t just hurt you–it hurts everyone. It’s as though there’s a giant jar of jelly beans on display in your classroom7 and you run up to it, grab a fistful of jelly beans, and fling them on the floor. Why? Who knows. Apparently you’re kind of a jerk.
Now, if you apologize for having flung the jelly beans, your teacher can forgive you, but you still have to put jelly beans back in the jar. You’ve hurt everybody by your reckless hatred of jellybeans and if you’re truly sorry, you want to make up for it. If the school year ends and you haven’t replaced all the jelly beans you trampled, you need to…spend your summer collecting jelly beans? Okay, the analogy is getting weird. But you see my point.
When we pray or do good on earth, we’re putting jelly beans back in the cosmic jar. If we die having been forgiven for our awkward jelly bean outburst but we’re still in the red, we go to purgatory until we’ve put in enough jelly beans or someone has put them in for us.
Because here’s the awesome (and hotly-contested) thing: if we haven’t replaced all the jelly beans by the time we leave school, somebody else can do it for us. This is where the idea of praying for the holy souls in purgatory comes in. It’s not that Christ’s Passion is insufficient or that God refuses to let people out of purgatory unless we say the magic words; it’s that God has established his Church as one family and given us the gift of intercessory prayer. I think that, if for no other reason, God allows us to pray for the dead to give us the consolation of being able to do something. I think Protestants are never more Catholic than when they lose a loved one. The natural inclination is to pray for those who have died–probably because God gave us that inclination.
Common Ground
Despite the fact that Catholics reference purgatory as a matter of course and Protestants think it sounds medieval, there’s really significant agreement on this doctrine. All Christians agree that we ought to do good to make up for the evil we’ve done; Catholics simply maintain that we must. All Christians agree that we must be purified in order to enter heaven; Catholics simply maintain that this purification is a process while Protestants would consider it an event, a moment of purification. Now, I’d argue that God tends to work in processes rather than events9 and that really we couldn’t handle sudden holiness. As with the beach analogy, we need our sanctification to be gradual.
But we agree that we need purification. And nobody ever said it took time–in a sense, purgatory is outside of time. And nobody ever said that it was a place–why would immaterial souls need a place? And nobody ever said that there was really fire–fire burning immaterial souls? The division really comes down to the sola fide vs. faith and works argument: Catholics assert that our salvation and the salvation of others can be affected by our works; Protestants, naturally, disagree. That’s a discussion for another post (or six), but I think at this point we can say that there is quite a lot of common ground here.
I’ll leave the defense of purgatory–Scripture and Tradition–for another post. For this feast of the Holy Souls10 during the month of November in which we remember our dead, I’ll leave you with this: the doctrine of purgatory acclaims that God’s mercy is without end; not even death can end the merciful love of God. Purgatory is not a threat. It doesn’t demonstrate God’s desire to punish but to heal. Purgatory tells us that God, who desires that all men be saved (1 Tim 2:4), will fight to the death and beyond for your soul. Let’s pray for the souls in purgatory this month, but let’s also live like souls that are destined for heaven. Praise God for his mercy in coming after every lost lamb of us.
Strictly speaking, it’s not a place at all, but we’ll go with it. [↩]
If you pray the Office of Readings, you read this line from St. Bernard of Clairvaux yesterday: “The saints have no need of honor from us; neither does our devotion add the slightest thing to what is theirs. Clearly, if we venerate their memory, it serves us, not them. But I tell you, when I think of them, I feel myself inflamed by a tremendous yearning.” If you don’t pray the Office of Readings, you should. It’s awesome. Download the free app now. [↩]
This always shocks people. I’m not a serial killer. I like my stupid pathetic sin, not my terrifying, disgusting sin. Although, really, is there any other kind? [↩]
I hate politics. I mean, I know a lot of people say that–especially around elections–but I really do. Maybe it’s that I feel so discouraged by the options. Maybe it’s that a faithful Catholic doesn’t really fit in either party. Maybe it’s that it’s so complicated and there’s so much grey area–as an apologist, I guess I just like questions that have reasonable, infallible answers.
I don’t generally talk politics. I’ll discuss issues, but all I’ll usually say about parties is that a faithful Catholic can’t be a platform Democrat or a platform Republican. I don’t even usually tell people who I voted for!
Needless to say, I really don’t want to write this post. But the Lord has put it on my heart, so here we have it.
First, let me say this: I’m not a Republican. If we’re talking basic party principles, I’m a Democrat. I believe in big government and federal programs to help the underprivileged.1 I honestly believe that Democratic ideals are more in line with Catholicism.
Ideals. The particular values that seem to define the party today–well, not so much. Obviously, there are plenty of social issues that I’m much more conservative on. But high taxes? Sure. Higher taxes on the rich? Absolutely. Gun control? You bet!2 Besides, as my mother always says, the Democratic party defines itself by the ideal that the state ought to intervene to protect the vulnerable: the poor, the criminal, you name it. The Democratic party, by all rights, ought to be the pro-life party.
And you know what? Even though the abortion issue is such a huge one, I’ve never been a single issue voter. I weigh it heavily, sure, but a (hypothetical) candidate who supports abortion but would enact programs that provide healthcare for pregnant women, offer tuition assistance for single moms, and furnish low income families with childcare? Well, that candidate could actually reduce the number of abortions significantly. It’s just not always black and white. Not to mention the fact that the abortion issue is less relevant to some offices. A governor of a state like Texas, for example, might not have much to do with abortion laws but has quite a lot to do with stays of execution. So why would I pick the anti-abortion candidate as a matter of course? It’s more complicated than that.
Instead, I tend to split my ticket and I generally agonize over the candidates’ websites. I was absolutely torn during the Bush-Kerry season and the last election wasn’t exactly easy.
This one? A piece of cake.
Now, I’m no fan of Mitt Romney. Sure, he can deliver a joke. And he kind of looks like a Ken doll, which is nice, I guess. But I’ll admit that he’s phony. And I’m sure he’s a liar, like all politicians, and that he’s changed his position based on what is politically expedient. I don’t like what he said about the famed “47%” and I don’t agree with most of his fiscal policies, from what I can tell.
But this election season, I haven’t had to bother agonizing over every little thing. Because to my mind (and to the mind of the Catholic bishops), Obama crossed the line.
When the HHS Mandate was passed, I told a friend, “Now I’ll just have to see if the Republican candidate is so bad that I have to write somebody in. Obama just lost my vote.”3
When he came out with that sham compromise, I realized that I had to vote against him, whoever the opposition was (within reason, of course). A move like that–forcing the nation’s biggest and the world’s oldest Church to violate a teaching she’s held for 2,000 years and then smiling and telling us that if we close our eyes it’s like it’s not happening? Absolutely not. Obama’s complete disregard for religious liberty with the HHS mandate is appalling. If he’ll pull something like that in an election year, I can’t even imagine what he’d do in his final term. So my mind was made up in January: anybody but Obama.
I say this not as a Catholic but as an American. This nation was founded on the principle that the freedom to act according to one’s conscience and the freedom to live according to one’s religion are essential freedoms. My (mostly Protestant) ancestors came to this country for that very reason. That the President of the United States is now forcing religious institutions to act against their convictions is an outrage. The Founding Fathers would be disgusted.
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances. (The First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America)
The President’s camp has been spinning the first amendment, using the language “freedom of worship” as opposed to “freedom of religion” or “religious liberty.” The implication is that the Constitution guarantees only that I may pray as I choose, not that I may live my faith. I’m permitted to be crazy and worship a cracker, it seems, as long as I only do it in church. Outside of church, I must do what I’m told.
But the traditional understanding has been that the free exercise of religion includes the freedom to live one’s faith, assuming that it does no harm to another. We don’t compel Jewish delis to sell bacon or Baptist reception halls to serve liquor. We don’t force Jehovah’s Witnesses to get blood transfusions or require Evangelical businesses to stay open on Sundays. Traditionally, individuals and organizations have been free to choose on such matters. I suppose that in this instance, I’m pro-choice.
As an American, I believe that people may be compelled to do what they don’t want to do but never what they feel they must not do. I don’t want to drive the speed limit or file taxes or get a new car when my clunker’s emissions are too bad, but I don’t find those things morally abhorrent. I do them with minimal whining and move on with my life. But I refuse to be morally complicit in evil,4 whatever the cost. In this case, the cost seems to be Romney. If I’m not voting for him, I’m essentially voting for Obama. And while Romney has some serious issues, I don’t think he’s advocating anything intrinsically evil.
Basically, I’m either voting for Romney or I’m accepting the violation of my religious liberty. It’s either him or the betrayal of my conscience. The choice seems clear to me.
I’m often accused of being a single-issue voter (by people who have no idea how I vote, what’s more), but this isn’t a single issue. Sure, it’s contraception and abortifacient drugs. But it’s also Obama betraying his supporters, lying to the public, trampling on consciences, and castrating the first amendment. To my mind, those are serious issues, and I don’t see that any of his policies are good enough to overshadow the evil of limiting our religious liberty and giving Catholic social services this ultimatum: do evil or close your doors.
I’ve seen a number of comments on Facebook recently to the extent that a Christian can’t rightly support a candidate who would cut social welfare programs, since Jesus told us to serve the poor. Now I agree that the state should have some role in this, but it’s Obama, with all his social programs, who’s really going to hurt the poor. If he’s re-elected and HHS is upheld by the Supreme Court, every Catholic school, hospital, homeless shelter, soup kitchen, adoption agency, and nursing home is going to have to shut down or go bankrupt.5 That’s 7,500 schools educating 2.3 million children, 230 universities educating 1 million students and employing 65,000 professors,6 and more than 600 hospitals caring for 1 in 6 patients in America.7 Exactly how would shutting them down help anybody at all? How would closing Catholic soup kitchens feed the hungry? How would bankrupting nuns help the immigrants they serve?
I can’t vote for a man who would require people to violate their consciences and drive them to financial ruin if they don’t. I can’t vote for a man with no respect for the First Amendment or the Catholic Church. I can’t vote for a man whose Catholic running mate8 made a blatantly false statement claiming that there is a conscience exemption. There is no exemption for Catholic institutions that aren’t parishes, convents, or monasteries. Do evil, shut down, or go bankrupt from the fines.9
So the issues I’m concerned about here are the right to life, women’s rights, chastity, service to the poor and marginalized, civil rights, personal integrity, political integrity, the integrity of the Constitution, and the freedom to believe and live as one’s conscience dictates. Seems pretty broad to me.
But what if I were a single-issue voter? Is there no single issue that’s important enough to eclipse all the others? What if I told you I was against Hitler because of his views on eugenics?10 Sure, I appreciate how he’s trying to rebuild the war-ravaged German state and rallying a disheartened nation, but I’m just not comfortable with his crimes against humanity. It’s okay to oppose Hitler for that one reason, right? Why couldn’t I vote against Obama simply because he’s the rallying point of a radically pro-abortion Democratic party? Why can’t I vote against a man simply because he supports genocide?11
This has nothing to do with restricting women’s access to birth control–we gave up that fight with Griswold v. Connecticut in 1965. We’re not claiming, as the rhetoric insists, that our religious freedom is being destroyed because we are “unable to force others to not use birth control.” Nobody is trying to restrict access to birth control. All we’re saying is that those whose religious convictions forbid them to encourage, fund, approve of, or participate in an action should not be forced to do so.
These aren’t federal insurance policies we’re talking here–these are governmental requirements on private policies. Those who are connected to these private institutions are there, at some level, by choice. This isn’t an attempt to limit the public’s ability to contracept, it’s a refusal to cooperate in such actions as regards the employees of Catholic institutions.
If you take a job at a Catholic institution, you have to deal with the fact that your employer won’t pay for your contraception. It’s part of the job. It’s illogical to appeal to the federal government to insist that you be allowed to serve bacon at a vegan restaurant; if you want to serve BLTs, get a different job. Those who work at McDonald’s have to accept the uniform; if you want to wear cutoffs and flip-flops, get a different job. Catholic organizations will not pay for your birth control; if you want your birth control funded by your employer, get a different job.
I realize that in this economy “get a different job” can sound heartless. But if your access to free contraception is so important to you that you’re willing to compel a 2,000-year-old institution to betray its convictions, it should be important enough to you that you’re willing to be unemployed or underemployed. I can see believing that your need for contraception to be legal trumps my personal beliefs, but to say that I should betray my God so you can get cheap meds for free? That’s unconscionable.
And you know what? Treating-my-body-like-it’s-broken, pregnancy-is-a-disease, wouldn’t-punish-them-with-a-pregnancy aside, even assuming that I were in favor of all these “women’s reproductive rights,” I still wouldn’t believe that Obama respected women. He claims to be working for women, but this “First Time” commercial is how he tries to get our votes? Honestly, I feel degraded. Why am I defined as a woman based on my sexual availability to men? Why, when trying to convince me intellectually, are you treating me like all I care about is boys and sex and people’s opinions? WHY IS EVERYBODY OKAY WITH THIS????12
I’ll have to hold my nose to vote for Romney, believe me. But a career politician who waffles on matters of prudential judgment is a whole different matter from a man who runs on a platform of intrinsic evils.13
I can’t tell you how to vote, and plenty of Catholics who are far more politically savvy than I have given you much to think over. But when every single bishop heading an American diocese has taken a stand against this president’s policies,14 I think it’s safe to say that this religious freedom issue is no small matter. Whether you’re Catholic or not, I’m begging you to consider seriously whether you want to live in an America where the president chooses to disregard the Constitution and is hailed as a champion of the downtrodden for doing it. It’s a slippery slope, my friends, whether you think this instance is wrong or not. I don’t want to be Chicken Little, but I think we’ve gotten to this point:
A vote for Barack Obama is a vote against freedom. Romney-Ryan 2012.
Seriously, please don’t argue this with me. I hate politics and this isn’t the point. And yes, I believe in subsidiarity. I just don’t apply the principle the way some might. [↩]
I’m not kidding. I don’t want to hear any of your arguments on these issues. I’ll never be a Democrat, barring some major platform renovations, so it doesn’t matter anyway. [↩]
If you don’t know what the HHS mandate is, you really need to click that link. [↩]
No, I’m not condemning you. The Church asserts that contraception is evil, not that those who contracept are evil. [↩]
Not to mention the evidence that all his talking about reducing financial inequality ain’t going there…. [↩]
Stats courtesy of the inestimably reputable wikipedia.com, but numbers are similar elsewhere. [↩]
No, I didn’t put Catholic in quotation marks. He hasn’t been excommunicated and it’s not my job to make those accusations. [↩]
The Archdiocese of Washington estimates that it “could incur devastating penalties as high as nearly $145 million per year, simply for practicing our faith.” [↩]
No, I’m not calling Obama Hitler. It’s an analogy. [↩]
Even ignoring the racist implications of American abortion statistics, genocide is the systematic extermination of a particular group. 50 million inconvenient babies in 40 years. [↩]
Anthony Esolen has an interesting take on what else this ad represents. Julie Borowski just thinks it’s ridiculous. [↩]
I used this line on Facebook. The response I got was that you have to decide for yourself what is intrinsically evil. No! You don’t! THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT!! [↩]