3 reasons Archives - Held By His Pierced Hands

3 Reasons: The Mandate

I don’t know that I’ll ever run out of reasons I love Catholicism. But with the Fortnight for Freedom starting later this week, I’ve got contraception and persecution on my mind. So we’ll call this the Remember-the-HHS-Mandate-Yeah-That’s-Still-Happening edition.

1. Perspicacity¹

I remember once talking to a woman who was in a Lutheran seminary studying for ministry. Since I was in college and knew everything,² I was debating her about something. To make a point, I asked, “Well, what does baptism do?”

Now, any moderately-catechized Catholic will automatically spout something about how it takes away Original Sin or at least something about it making you a Christian. So I thought I was still on common ground. Her response?

“I haven’t decided yet.”

She hadn’t decided yet! Forget the fact that it’s a little silly to phrase things as though your opinion might impact objective truth, I was stunned by the realization that in most denominations a theologically-earnest person has to examine every single matter of dogma and determine her position. You can’t, if you’re being intellectually honest, accept anything on the authority of your church because your church doesn’t claim to have any authority and probably doesn’t have any official teaching on most points.

I’m exhausted just thinking about it. The logical result of sola Scriptura is that you have to examine all of Scripture for the answer to any doctrinal question.³ Being the kind of person I am, I would have felt compelled to figure out the answer to every question–without any authority to point me in the right direction. What an exhausting prospect! It’s not necessarily easier to submit to the Church on difficult matters, but it has the benefit of being right.

It’s not just confusion that the Church’s authority protects us from–it’s that powerful temptation to ignore Paul⁴ and conform to the world. I think we see it most powerfully these days in the matter of contraception.⁵

Prior to 1930, every single Christian denomination unequivocally condemned contraception. After all, hadn’t St. John Chrysostom declared in the 4th century that contraception was worse than murder?⁶ And Caesarius in the 6th?⁷ And doesn’t it seem significant that the only time anyone in Scripture contracepts he gets struck dead for it?⁸

But there was pressure from society (not least, I’m sure, from the esteemed Ms. Sanger of Planned Parenthood and eugenics fame) and the Church of England caved, declaring in 1930 that contraception was acceptable in marriage when absolutely necessary.

By the time 1968 rolled around and Pope Paul VI reminded everybody once again that this isn’t going to change, every mainstream Protestant denomination accepted contraception. Most even taught that contracepting was the responsible thing to do, an essential element of good stewardship.

That’s a complete 180 in less than 50 years. And still the Catholic Church stands strong, telling us again and again that sex was created to bring life into the world, pointing out the terrible damage that contraception can do to a marriage and to unborn children and to our bodies as well as to our souls. With all the pressure society is putting on us to stay out of the bedroom or to recognize birth control as a human right, still our Church holds to what is true. Praise God for a Church with authority and the guts to exercise it.

2. Perseverance

For a good 50 years now the Church has been fighting societal pressures to cave on the contraception thing. But now we’re fighting the government. I’m sure you know all about the HHS Mandate–how it’s requiring businesses and non-profits to violate their consciences by providing their employees with insurance that covers contraception and abortifacients. If not, catch up here.⁹

But I think that after last summer’s protests and Fortnight for Freedom we thought that it was over. As it happens, it’s only just beginning. August 1 marks the date when non-profits will have to start paying hefty fines–up to $100 per person per day, as best I can tell–for refusing to comply. No matter that employees covered by the mandated insurance are likely making more than enough money to buy their own birth control. Or that they could choose to work somewhere that doesn’t object to this requirement. Or that birth control is never medically necessary given that abstinence is vastly more effective in preventing pregnancy.¹⁰ Our government has decided that contraception is basic healthcare and can’t for a moment understand why anyone would object.

They thought we’d back down. That after 2,000 years of standing strong the prospect of fines and awkwardness would convince us to change our teaching–or at least to look the other way while funding evil. They thought we’d be convinced by their rhetoric: “Religious freedom doesn’t mean that you get to make choices for other people based on your religion.”

But we’re not. We’re not trying to limit anyone’s access to birth control, just refusing to provide it or pay for it ourselves. And as Christians–as Americans–we refuse to allow our government to require that we violate our consciences.

As our government has pushed and cajoled and threatened, our bishops have grown stronger. They’ve stood together and refused to back down. They’ve promised that they will shut down every Catholic institution before they will betray their faith. As the world closes in, the Church is closing ranks and rather than bow to the idol of free love we’re getting ready to take up our crosses.

3. Persecution

So everybody and his mother is suing the government. And we Catholics in the pew, we sit and wait. But the atmosphere in this legal waiting room isn’t nervous. It’s more–well, excited. We may not want to die for our faith–most of us would much rather not suffer even financial setbacks for our faith–but we’re willing to. And after a lifetime of being tolerated by society, we’re ready to fight. We’re ready to join the ranks of our fathers in suffering for our faith.

Tertullian wasn’t kidding when he said that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church. In every era, the persecuted Church has flourished while the complacent Church has faded. In some situations, the blood of the martyrs quite literally made new Saints–when he was beheaded, Edmund Campion’s blood splashed on a worldly Henry Walpole. Walpole left his empty life and became a practicing Catholic, a priest, a martyr, and a Saint.

Okay, maybe it’s not really persecution yet. It’s just ridicule and fines and possible imprisonment. Probably nobody’s going to die. But the fact remains, as I’ve said before, that the approaching discomfort will separate the wheat from the chaff. Maybe, when we’re all done pretending to be politically correct and the gloves finally come off, people who are mostly Catholic but not in the bedroom or at a steakhouse on Ash Wednesday or alone with a computer–maybe they’ll realize that this Catholic thing is either everything or it’s nothing. Maybe they’ll decide that it’s worth fighting for when they see people being fired and bankrupted and jailed for their convictions. Maybe when it stops being so easy to be Catholic people will see how good hard is.

And maybe people who call themselves Catholic but only show up at Mass twice a year or dissent from the Church’s teaching or live in unrepentant, manifest grave sin will let go of the moniker they hold so dear. Maybe we’ll be rid of all the politicians who tell us that they’re devout Catholics and that’s why they fight for abortion on demand. Maybe our dear friend Piers Morgan will decide that calling himself a Catholic isn’t getting him ratings or street cred or whatever he’s looking for and will own up to the fact that he doesn’t much believe in Catholicism and that’s okay because it’s his own business.¹¹ Maybe all those Catholics on the fence will pick a side–for or against.

But whether or not the upcoming persecution gains strength, whether or not the Supreme Court overturns the HHS Mandate, whether or not our Bishops are in jail in ten years, our Church will continue to teach truth. Even when it’s uncomfortable. Even when it’s unpopular. Even when the whole world stands against us–Christians and non-Christians alike–we will speak truth into a world of falsehood. Because our Lord promised. “The gates of hell will not prevail against it,” he said of our Church, and he was right. Not Diocletian’s hell, not Good Queen Bess’s hell, not Lenin’s or Stalin’s or Mao’s hell, and not the hell we see in the world today. Our Church will fight and our Church will win and a thousand years from now Catholic schoolchildren will roll their eyes at being made to remember Sebelius and Pelosi in a world where Humanae Vitae is just one document in a long line of repetitive statements about contraception.

I praise God for a Church that can discern, by the power of the Holy Spirit, what is true, that refuses to back down when challenged and threatened, and that rejoices even in the suffering occasioned by our commitment to the truth. Pray with me, friends, for the Supreme Court, the Church, and our nation. These are difficult times. May we stand firm in our faith and emerge from this time of trial purified.

Oh, and if the NSA is reading this–along with my mundane emails and my snarky Facebook statuses–let me just say:

Linking up with Micaela and a bunch of other people whose posts are assuredly less combative and controversial than this one. But that’s just how I roll.

And now watch an atheist school a Catholic on what it means to be a Catholic. You’re going to love this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsqzCDaS5uI

I know this is an appalling and unnecessarily large word, but it fit so well with the other two that I had to go with it. And I wish I could have listed it third so you would see why I used it but I had to be systematic and explain why we’re right first. So…sorry not sorry? [↩]
Who are we kidding? I’d do the same thing today. [↩]
There’s also the concern that some central Christian truths aren’t overtly in Scripture and that you don’t have a Bible without the Church…. [↩]
Rom 12:2 [↩]
You knew I’d get to the point eventually! [↩]
“Indeed, it is something worse than murder and I do not know what to call it; for she does not kill what is formed but prevents its formation” [↩]
“No woman may take a potion so that she is unable to conceive…. As often as she could have conceived or given birth, of that many homicides she will be held guilty…. If a woman does not wish to have children, let her enter into a religious agreement with her husband; for chastity is the sole sterility of a Christian woman.” [↩]
Gen 38:9-10 [↩]
Really–I wrote this one before anybody really read this blog, so check it out. [↩]
I understand that this is a difficult issue and that abstinence may not be an option in abusive relationships, but why is our response to this contraception and not helping women get out of these relationships? And I know that complete abstinence in marriage is very, very difficult and generally unhealthy for the marriage but why is it the Church’s job to provide you with contraception? [↩]
See video below. Love it! [↩]

3 Reasons: The Marks of the Church

That title might seem a little off–everyone knows that there are four Marks of the Church. But I’m linking up with Micaela again and she makes the rules: three reasons I love Catholicism. So we’re just going to say that the first mark, the mark of unity, of being “One,” manifests itself beautifully in the other three. That way I can have all four marks and still play the three reasons game. Okay? Good.

1. The Church is Holy.

Now before you get all cranky, I know that Catholics aren’t necessarily holy. In fact, Catholics are often among the worst sinners out there, all the worse because we claim to have standards for our behavior. So when I say that the Church is holy, I don’t mean that everything her members does is good–or even that everything she does as an institution is good.¹ But really, how much sense does it make to condemn an institution which teaches dogmatically that people are sinners when her members prove her right? Certainly, we ought to be better than that. But our Church is a saint factory, not a saints club.

Note that this wasn’t Pope Paul VI–it was Gandhi. (Source)

No, what I love about the holiness of our Church is her doctrines. Leave it to the Catholic Church to teach what is true–what she has always taught to be true–even when it’s awkward and inconvenient. When the Church of England first allowed contraception in 1930, every other mainstream Protestant denomination soon followed suit, leaving the Catholic Church alone holding the position that was held by all Christians and pretty much everyone else–including Gandhi–until the 20th century.

I love that our Church refuses to conform to secular models of liberal and conservative but runs instead after what is true, good, and beautiful. Find me a church that does as much good for the poor. Find me a church that defends all life–even that of the criminal and the immigrant and the handicapped–at whatever cost. Find me a church that works as hard for justice. This Church does all three and more.

A few months back, I was at a Catholic retreat with 800 teens. On the last day, they had us sing Happy Birthday to a few people who were celebrating that day. A few hours later, they announced that somebody else would be celebrating a birthday in a few weeks and asked us to sing to him, too. We all started off, quiet and rather confused because who cares if his birthday is coming up eventually? So is everybody’s.

At the end of the song, a young man with Down Syndrome climbed up onto the stage and stood grinning at us as we sang to him. The auditorium erupted with cheers, teenagers screaming and shouting because they saw his need and loved him for it. I don’t know that I’ve ever been prouder to be a Catholic. We say we’re pro-life, and apparently we really mean it–before birth, after birth, for the handicapped and sinful and unwanted and alone and refugee and just everyone. And our kids know it.

And you know what? This isn’t just true in some Catholic churches–it’s true across the board. Some of us are better at it than others, but our holy teachings bind us together even when we reject them. When you say, “I’m Catholic, but I believe in…” you’re proclaiming the one, holy teaching of the Church–and your refusal to consent. And yet, despite your best efforts, it remains the teaching of the Church. Even the disunity among our members can’t break the unity of our Church. What she teaches in Denver she teaches in Dubai and Delhi and Dover and everywhere, even when she’s ridiculed or marginalized or persecuted. Praise the Lord for our One, Holy Church.

2. The Church is Catholic .

This picture is from a church in Texas and I’m in Colorado but they have the same name and I forgot to take a picture so…deal with it.

Okay, this is the reason I’m thinking about the Marks of the Church today. Because we belong to a Church that is truly universal. Yesterday I went to Mass in Vietnamese. And I understood the whole thing. No, I don’t speak a lick of Vietnamese–but I speak Mass. And so I whispered all the prayers in English as the congregation responded in Vietnamese. I even beat my breast at the same time as them! I understood when the priest was saying Phillip and James, I understood which form of the penitential rite was being used–aside from the homily and the propers of the Mass, I got it all. And after Mass, when the celebrants and congregation turned to face a statue of the Holy Family and began to chant, I realized that it was the Magnificat.² Even the parts that weren’t liturgical, I understood because it’s a universal Church.

I’ve been to Mass in ten different languages³ and it’s always the same. If I kind of understand the language, I completely understand the Mass. If I don’t know a word, I can still pray right along with it. And even when I go to Eastern Rite churches, there’s a marvelous universality to the fact that I can join with people of any nationality and worship this one God in His Church.

The many rites in our Church show our unity in diversity and the Saints back it up. I’ve heard it claimed that Christianity is an inherently Western religion. Well, riddle me this: there are 11 American Catholic Saints. There are at least 120 Chinese Catholic Saints, at least 103 Korean Catholic Saints. The Blessed Mother has appeared in North America, South America, Asia, Africa, and Europe⁴ and every time she’s taken on the race of the people she’s speaking to. This is a universal Church.

All across this world, I know that if I find a church with a picture of the Pope in it, I’m home. In every country in the world, I have a church. Find me another Church that can make that claim. Whatever divides me from tribal Catholics in a remote village or persecuted Catholics in a totalitarian regime, we are united by our One, Catholic Church.

3. The Church is Apostolic.

And this Church which is universal in space is universal in time, too. Since the Resurrection, there has always been a Catholic Church.⁵ There aren’t a lot of churches out there that can claim an unbroken line back to the Apostles. Aside from Catholics (as far as I know) only the Orthodox and the Church of England even try. And while the former absolutely are and the latter can make a claim, there’s more to being apostolic than being descended from the Apostles.⁶

Not that I’m saying Jesus used a paten and chalice, but the doctrine of the real presence was just as clear then as it is now–maybe more so.

When I’m looking for the church that is most truly apostolic, my first question isn’t even apostolic succession. My first question is, “Would the Apostles recognize it?” This isn’t an issue of chant vs. drum kits. I don’t think anybody’s claiming that the Novus Ordo or even the Extraordinary Form would look entirely familiar to one of the Twelve. But would it feel right? I’m fairly certain that whatever the words of the Mass, the Apostles would recognize the use of Scripture in the prayers and the offertory and the many Jewish undertones of the liturgy. But most of all, they would recognize the Catholic reverence for Christ truly present in the Eucharist. The men who heard him say, “This is my body” the day before he was killed would be appalled–outraged, even–to hear churches say, “No, it is not.” I’d stake my life on it. As it happens, I already have.

To be an apostolic Church is to embrace apostolic doctrines: the real presence (John 6), the power of confession (Jn 20:21-23), the primacy of Peter (Mt 16:18-19). Catholics get accused of being unbiblical, of exalting human doctrines above the truth of God. Well, I’ve read the Bible 11 times and (even ignoring the fact that there is no Bible without the Church) I just don’t see it. And the minute you read the Church Fathers, the disciples of the Apostles, you begin to see that the early Church was, in fact, the Catholic Church. St. Edmund Campion famously asked an Anglican priest who was an expert on the Church Fathers how he could read the Fathers and not become a Catholic. “If I believed them as well as read them, you would have good reason to ask,” came the response, and Campion, who was trying his best to stay Protestant, was lost to the Church of England forever.

This is the Didache, an apostolic document that supports any number of the Church's doctrines. Note that it's a lot older than the 95 theses. — This is the Didache, an apostolic document that supports any number of the Church’s doctrines. Note that it’s a lot older than the 95 theses.

This Church that is descended from the Apostles, that honors the Apostles, that finds its guidance in the successors of the Apostles–this Church also teaches the one truth handed down by the Apostles. The Church’s stance against abortion and open communion, her commitment to Sunday as sabbath and the confession of sins,⁷ these unite us even when they upset us. They come to us from the writings of the Apostles and their disciples and from the guidance of the Holy Spirit through their successors. It is those teachings and those bishops that make us One, Apostolic Church.

So there you have it, friends–my fangirl love for the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church. Click over to Micaela’s to see why else people love our Church–or post yourself!

The Catechism tells us that the Church is “at once holy and always in need of purification”–CCC 1428. [↩]
I heard the word Abraham at the end, it was an evening Mass, they were facing Mary, and they bowed for the last stanza–the Glory Be, I assume. I suppose I could be wrong, but it sure sounds like the Magnificat to me. [↩]
English, French, Spanish, Italian, Latin, Arabic, Croatian, Polish, Korean, and Vietnamese. [↩]
Australia and Antarctica need to get with the program. [↩]
Okay, they weren’t called “Catholic” until 107 by St. Ignatius of Antioch, but it’s clearly the same Church that it was. And it continues, the same Church in 100 as in 500 as in 1500 as today. The Orthodox could say the same thing. No Protestant denomination could. [↩]
The Orthodox would assert that their Church also has much of what I’m about to list and they’re right. My point is to say what is apostolic here, not what makes only us the apostolic Church. [↩]
All four from the first century Didache, the earliest Church constitution written by the companions of the Apostles. [↩]

3 Reasons: The Octave

Linking up with Micaela to tell you 3 reasons I love being Catholic. (Props to my sister for sending me the info!)

1. Easter Liturgy

Image from Lawrence, OP, my favorite person on flickr.

How do you even celebrate the Resurrection without fire and candlelight and 7 Old Testament readings and a Gloria with bells and tympani and lights being raised and Alleluias coming out your ears after long weeks without? And how can you settle for an hour one morning to celebrate the greatest thing ever to happen EVER? In my Church, we celebrate Easter Sunday for 8 days and the season for another 42. So far, I’ve gone to 5 Easter Sunday Masses with Alleluias and Resurrection readings and even the Easter sequence chanted at Wednesday’s. In my Church, we don’t confine boundless joy to one day but stretch it over an octave and a whole season beyond.

2. Easter Feasting

I have literally eaten these jelly beans every day this week. Sometimes for breakfast. #itstheoctave! — Sometimes I eat jelly beans for breakfast. #itstheoctave!

Every day this week is a solemnity, and you know what that means: bacon and chocolate, all day every day. Seriously, I’ve eaten jelly beans every day this week and each time it’s prayer. When I have pie for lunch,¹ I’m rejoicing in Him who made the heavens and the earth and called it good and then made all things new. And yes, pie is a sign of his love. But I’m not just justifying my gluttony, I’m transformed. Feasting in this Church reminds us that all good things are gifts from the Lord. It transforms the way we party with the result that all good partying leads us to him. Cocktails for Christ!

3. Easter Alleluias

Lent’s hard for me, and not just because I’m so hungry. I use the word Alleluia (or Hallelujah, depending on how sassy I’m feeling) all the time. Seriously–when anything good happens or anything bad is avoided or anything edible is around, I’m Hallelujahing up a storm. So I literally have to bite my tongue sometimes during Lent–and I still fail most times.

One year, I made it all the way to Holy Thursday. I was road tripping and listening to Christian radio, but I was vigilant and turned down the volume every time I heard an Alleluia coming. For 40+ days, I drove with one hand on the volume button. And then, with 3 days left to hold strong, I was rocking out to “It’s Raining Men.” Windows rolled down, dancing in my seat, fist pumping out the sun roof while going 65 down the highway.² And when the chorus started, I shout-sang “IT’S RAINING MEN! HALLELUJAH, IT’S–OH NOOOOOOOO!!!!!” After all that effort, what a way to go out.³

But, my friends, it’s Easter. Which means that every song at Mass is rocking Alleluias, every ice cream cone is accompanied by a round of Alleluias, and half the people I greet let out an Alleluia or two. We are an Easter people and Alleluia is our song–and I, for one, will be singing that song of joy all season long.

In this Church of fasting and feasting, little things take on such meaning and the restraint requires of us bears fruit in this age, thirty and sixty and a hundredfold. I love my Church because she governs every moment of my life, not just Sunday mornings.

So what about you? What are you loving about this Church of ours this month? Head over to Micaela’s and link up!

No, I did not mean to say with lunch, don’t judge. [↩]
Admit it: you’re loving this image. [↩]
FYI: it’s okay to say Alleluia during Easter. We just don’t use it in the liturgy. But since it’s such a joyful word and Lent is a penitential season, I try to fast from even the word to make my Easter that much more joyful. [↩]