Dwight Longenecker's Blog, page 316

Looking for the King

I have just finished David Downing's excellent Looking for the King. Described as "an Inklings novel" the book is set in England in the 1940s. An American scholar named Tom McCord is on the trail of King Arthur and, along with a pretty sidekick with psychic gifts, winds up in Oxford where he meets C.S.Lewis, J.R.R.Tolkien, Charles Williams and the other Inklings who give them hints and help them on their quest.



Such a book is a risky adventure in itself. It could easily have drifted into a sentimental view of 'merry ole' England' with schmaltzy shallow portraits of a robust, pipe smoking Lewis, a hobbit-like Tolkien and an owlish Williams. Happily, Downing knows his stuff and presents portraits of the Oxford writers that are realistic and well rounded.



David Downing is an English professor at Elizabethtown College in Pennsylvania, an acknowledged expert on Lewis and the Inklings, he brings his expert knowledge of the Inklings and their writings to full flower in his exciting novel. The conversations he concocts are taken from snippets of their actual writings, recorded memories of their friends and insights from their biographies. The source for each tidbit is noted in the back, with on the ground research and all the attention to details that comes with creative sleuth work and true amateur-expert scholarship (that is for the love of it all) Downing brings to life the Inklings and their world.



All of this is done in the context of an exciting quest story combined with a romantic sub plot. With strong story telling gifts, Downing takes us into the quaint and elegant world of war-threatened England of the 1940s. Not only does he take us on a trip to some of the most evocative corners of England, but he also captures the sense of imminent loss that must have been part of that time and place. We sense, as we do in Lewis' science fiction novels, an ancient world of an England long gone--a world that is vulnerable in the face of modernity and fragile in the face of a second world war.



Published by Ignatius Press, Looking for the King is an excellent publishing adventure in itself. Good fiction writing has never been harder to find and never been harder to get published and sold to the public. Ignatius are to be commended for being adventuresome enough to step into publishing good solid fiction--a yarn that weaves Christianity into the story naturally without it ever becoming preachy or moralistic.



Buy this book. Read it. Recommend it and ask David Downing and Ignatius Press for more!

Angels of Advent

Here is my latest article for National Catholic Register. Angels of Advent looks at four angel stories in the lead up to the Nativity of Our Lord.

Personal Flotsam or the Barque of Peter?

A comment from a sincere Protestant:




However good, however all-embracing, however truthful, however up-to-date, however correct or incorrect, however complete or incomplete - the teaching of any church cannot tell me these things: how my personal relationship with Jesus is, and may develop; how scripture and tradition apply to my personal situation now, my present joys and sorrows and difficulties and my relationships with other people; what God's purpose is for me to fulfil in life to his glory; how the Holy Spirit in glorious freedom may lead me down paths unknown and reveal to me things both old and new as I work out my own salvation in fear and trembling.




This is a nicely written and heartfelt comment, but it reveals the heart of the difference between the Protestant mentality and the Catholic. At the foundation level the Protestant's faith is between him and Jesus. It is subjective. He is the final arbiter of how his relationship with Jesus is, how to interpret and apply the Scriptures, God's purpose for his life, how the Holy Spirit leads him as an individual.




This is almost exactly the opposite of Catholic understanding. The longer I am a Catholic the more I distrust my own judgement. The more I doubt my own perspective; the more I question my own motives and my own understanding of the faith. I do so for several very good reasons. First of all, my understanding and vision is limited. It is limited by my education, my biases, my experience and my emotions. Secondly, my experience of 'my relationship with Jesus' is unreliable. How do I know it is Jesus I am "experiencing" and not just a fabrication of my emotions or my preconceived ideas about who Jesus is? What evidence do I have that it really is the Holy Spirit leading me in "glorious freedom" and that I am not just doing what I want and then claiming divine authority to do so? Thirdly, I distrust my own experiences in all these things not only because I distrust my own judgement, but because my own private judgement has so often run contrary to the will of the Church--the teaching of the Church and the judgement of the Church. Put simply--why should I be right and the Pope and a billion Catholics be wrong?




I am increasingly, therefore, (and with great gratitude) happy to subject my own "personal relationship with Jesus" to the objective, historical teachings of the Catholic Church. So, for example, I ask the question, "Where do I encounter Christ?" The Catechism says I objectively encounter Christ in five ways: 1. in the Church--the Eucharistic Assembly which is the Body of Christ 2. In the person of the priest. 3. In the Eucharistic species 4. In the Sacred Scriptures 5. In the person of the poor. These five are good enough for me. I may feel that I experience Christ in other ways, but while I appreciate them, I do not rely on them.




Furthermore, I have found that by subjecting myself to the the Sacred Scriptures interpreted by the Church and lived out by the examples of the saints, that my own spiritual life has not been curtailed or constrained, but amplified and expanded beyond my furthest imaginings. By subjecting myself as much as I can to the teachings of Holy Mother Church my life has widened out, not narrowed down. By striving to be obedient--even when it is hard--especially when it is hard--my spiritual life has grown, not diminished. 




I am therefore to be judged by the Church--I am not to judge the church. I listen to the voice of the Bishops--even when I don't like what they say. I strive to understand and comply with the teachings of Mother Church because she knows better than I do. I strive to subject my will to the will of my bishop in what I hope might be holy obedience because through that act of the will and subjugation of the will my spirit grows far more than my own feeble ideas of 'glorious freedom'. It is within this holy obedience that I learn far more than if I had imagined that I knew everything already.




This is, admittedly, very difficult. In an individualistic age in which every man is his own spiritual director, his own Biblical interpreter and his own Pope, to believe and act as if the Bishops of the Church are Christ's own apostles, operating under his own divine mandate--is to believe and act (in the world's eyes) as a fool. But so be it. Let me be a fool for Christ, and if I die with a foolish smile on my face because my foolishness has confounded the world and bankrupted me, then that is the way I wish to die.




My greatest fear is that I would walk outside the church--somehow imagining that I know best. The one area of my life which I know least and which is the greatest mystery to me is my own spiritual life and my own spiritual progress. Because of my self doubt and agnosticism about my own holiness or progress I rely increasingly on the secure rock of Peter. I want to be in the barque of Peter. Not at sea clinging to my own piece of personal flotsam.

Jesus is My Friend

A comment from a sincere Protestant:




However good, however all-embracing, however truthful, however up-to-date, however correct or incorrect, however complete or incomplete - the teaching of any church cannot tell me these things: how my personal relationship with Jesus is, and may develop; how scripture and tradition apply to my personal situation now, my present joys and sorrows and difficulties and my relationships with other people; what God's purpose is for me to fulfil in life to his glory; how the Holy Spirit in glorious freedom may lead me down paths unknown and reveal to me things both old and new as I work out my own salvation in fear and trembling.




This is a nicely written and heartfelt comment, but it reveals the heart of the difference between the Protestant mentality and the Catholic. At the foundation level the Protestant's faith is between him and Jesus. It is subjective. He is the final arbiter of how his relationship with Jesus is, how to interpret and apply the Scriptures, God's purpose for his life, how the Holy Spirit leads him as an individual.




This is almost exactly the opposite of Catholic understanding. The longer I am a Catholic the more I distrust my own judgement. The more I doubt my own perspective; the more I question my own motives and my own understanding of the faith. I do so for several very good reasons. First of all, my understanding and vision is limited. It is limited by my education, my biases, my experience and my emotions. Secondly, my experience of 'my relationship with Jesus' is unreliable. How do I know it is Jesus I am "experiencing" and not just a fabrication of my emotions or my preconceived ideas about who Jesus is? What evidence do I have that it really is the Holy Spirit leading me in "glorious freedom" and that I am not just doing what I want and then claiming divine authority to do so? Thirdly, I distrust my own experiences in all these things not only because I distrust my own judgement, but because my own private judgement has so often run contrary to the will of the Church--the teaching of the Church and the judgement of the Church. Put simply--why should I be right and the Pope and a billion Catholics be wrong?




I am increasingly, therefore, (and with great gratitude) happy to subject my own "personal relationship with Jesus" to the objective, historical teachings of the Catholic Church. So, for example, I ask the question, "Where do I encounter Christ?" The Catechism says I objectively encounter Christ in five ways: 1. in the Church--the Eucharistic Assembly which is the Body of Christ 2. In the person of the priest. 3. In the Eucharistic species 4. In the Sacred Scriptures 5. In the person of the poor. These five are good enough for me. I may feel that I experience Christ in other ways, but while I appreciate them, I do not rely on them.




Furthermore, I have found that by subjecting myself to the the Sacred Scriptures interpreted by the Church and lived out by the examples of the saints, that my own spiritual life has not been curtailed or constrained, but amplified and expanded beyond my furthest imaginings. By subjecting myself as much as I can to the teachings of Holy Mother Church my life has widened out, not narrowed down. By striving to be obedient--even when it is hard--especially when it is hard--my spiritual life has grown, not diminished. 




I am therefore to be judged by the Church--I am not to judge the church. I listen to the voice of the Bishops--even when I don't like what they say. I strive to understand and comply with the teachings of Mother Church because she knows better than I do. I strive to subject my will to the will of my bishop in what I hope might be holy obedience because through that act of the will and subjugation of the will my spirit grows far more than my own feeble ideas of 'glorious freedom'. It is within this holy obedience that I learn far more than if I had imagined that I knew everything already.




This is, admittedly, very difficult. In an individualistic age in which every man is his own spiritual director, his own Biblical interpreter and his own Pope, to believe and act as if the Bishops of the Church are Christ's own apostles, operating under his own divine mandate--is to believe and act (in the world's eyes) as a fool. But so be it. Let me be a fool for Christ, and if I die with a foolish smile on my face because my foolishness has confounded the world and bankrupted me, then that is the way I wish to die.




My greatest fear is that I would walk outside the church--somehow imagining that I know best. The one area of my life which I know least and which is the greatest mystery to me is my own spiritual life and my own spiritual progress. Because of my self doubt and agnosticism about my own holiness or progress I rely increasingly on the secure rock of Peter. I want to be in the barque of Peter. Not at sea clinging to my own piece of flotsam.

Techno Gothic Mass

I have heard of these techno Masses, and here's a question for you. What would be wrong with a techno-Gothic Mass?  You put up big screens up front and before Mass you have slide shows of great Catholic art fading in and out. You've got Gregorian chant playing in the background. The Church is in darkness and silence. Then a lone server comes out of the darkness and lights the candles--lots of them. The images fade. The live music begins. A lone voice singing the entrance antiphon in Gregorian chant. Then the lights come up and the procession begins. The people are singing a traditional hymn quietly and reverently. The altar servers--all boys--are solemn and perfectly trained. The homilist makes use of the wide screens for visual aids if he wants to, then they fade out. The movement of the Mass goes to the altar for the sacrifice of the Mass. The sacred vessels are beautiful old vessels finely made and beautiful. Once again, the music is solemn Gregorian chant--maybe Taize chants with instruments.



Would this be bad? If so why? Would it be good? If so why?



Answers and opinions in the combox.

The Virgin Queen of Heaven

Do you see what else is locked in this marvelous story of the Annunciation? Mary the Queen of Heaven is there.



Gabriel--The Angel of the Lord says of her son, "The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and the his kingdom will never end."



Jesus Christ the Lord is therefore the king of the Jews by direct appointment of the Father in heaven, and by announcement of his own angel Gabriel. This connects with Jesus' later preaching about the kingdom, and cannot be disconnected from his own role therefore as the King of Kings and Lord of Lords and the High King of Heaven.



If this is so, then who is his mother? In the Jewish monarchy, the Queen Mother played the role of the intercessor Queen. She sat at the right hand of her son in majesty. If Jesus Christ is therefore the King of the Kingdom of Heaven, then his mother is seen as the Queen of Heaven. This is not some Catholic adoption of paganism as fundamentalist critics of Catholicism would like to suggest, but it woven into the Scriptural account of the Annunciation.



Furthermore, if Mary is the Queen of Heaven, but virtue of being the mother of the King, then this role too has been ascribed to her by God himself. The angel Gabriel says that "The Lord himself shall give to her son the throne of his father David." The Lord himself is also, therefore, granting her the role of Queen Mother.



Finally, the unfolding of this truth within the mystery of the Incarnation illustrates perfectly how the role of the Blessed Mother has unfolded within the history of the church and the development of doctrine. The doctrine itself about the Blessed Mother is present in Scripture. It is seen in the role of the Queen Mother in the Old Testament kingdom. It is hidden in this simple story of the meeting of the angel and the girl, and yet packed within this annunciation story is so much more, and as time unfolds and the mystery of the Kingdom, (which St Paul says was hidden for eons, but is now seen in Christ) unfolds we see unfolding with it a clearer and purer understanding of the role of the Mother of God.



What sort of Queen Mother is she? First of all, if she shares in the kingdom of her son, then her rule, with his will never end. She reigns with him and shares the eternal dimension of his rule. If she is a Queen Mother after the Jewish model of monarchy, then she has an intercessory role. She plays the part of an advocate for all those who beseech the monarch for his mercy and favor--and her relationship to us?



The king decreed this from the throne of the cross when he looks to us and says, "Behold your Mother."

Advent Homilies?

So what happened to the Advent homilies? I was going to turn over a new leaf. I was going to start recording the homilies and posting them here and as podcasts.



Well, my technology let me down. I couldn't remember how to work the darn doo-dad to do the recording. Then the schedule got on top of me and I am in church trying to round up extra servers and show the new boys what to do and attend to other details and the doo-dad, once I did figure out how to work it, didn't make its way up to the pulpit.



I'm going to try again in January...You'll have to endure your insomnia a bit longer...

Unity and Uniformity

When I was an Anglican I believed that the Anglican Church was truly the church of 'Mere Christianity' and that we had unity in essentials and variety in inessentials. After all, it did look that way. We had Evangelicals and Anglo-Catholics and Charismatics and Traditional Prayer Book Anglicans and Liberals and Conservatives and Liberal Evangelicals and Conservative Evangelicals and Liberal Anglo Catholics and Conservative Anglo Catholics and Liberal Charismatics and Conservative Charismatics and Charismatic Evangelicals and Charismatic Anglo Catholics and on and on and so forth and so on.



It seemed to me as an Anglican that this variety was a good thing, and that, although it was sometimes confusing and we often quarreled, that beneath it all we had unity of belief in the essentials. Then I began to look more closely and realized that underneath the different styles of worship there were actually different (and contradictory) theologies. How could it be that two men could be ordained by the same bishop to celebrate the Eucharist, but one man believed that the bread and wine were no more than a symbol, and the next man believed that he was confecting the body, blood, soul and divinity of the Lord Jesus Christ? How could one man put the leftover bread from communion out for the birds and the man in the next parish reserve it reverently in the tabernacle to be used for Eucharistic Adoration?



In fact, the only unity that existed was a shared belief in a core doctrine of Anglicanism: stated succinctly it is this: "That there is no such thing as objective theology." I first heard this phrase used seriously at an Anglican Clergy Fraternal by my Rural Dean. I heard what he said, and then noticed that all my brethren were nodding their heads in solemn agreement. It was one of those "Aha!" moments for me. "So this is why they can all agree to disagree! Because (unlike myself) none of them actually believe that there is such a thing as objective theology!"



The classic Anglican position therefore, is that all the different stripes and types of Anglican actually make up a kind of rainbow coalition. They glory in not having a centralized authority. They actually like the tense co-existance that comes from not having an objective theology. Because there is no objective theology, tolerance becomes the main virtue.



I realize that there are probably a good number of Anglicans who do believe in an objective theology, but put them together with other Anglicans and they will soon start to squirm. They will squirm for two reasons: because they have to put up with all the other Anglicans who do not believe in an objective theology, and because they will have to put up with the other Anglicans who do believe in an objective theology, but who they disagree with. So an Anglo-Catholic who does believe in objective theology will bristle at the Liberals who do not believe in an objective theology and with the Evangelicals who do believe in an objective theology, but the theology they believe in is Protestant through and through.



I came to realize that the Anglican Church was not a church with infinite, Spirit-led versions, but simply a confederation of contradictions--held together by a shared history and national or cultural allegiance more than anything else.



The curious thing is that the Anglicans (glorying in their diversity) sometimes blame the Catholic Church for being some sort of dictatorship that enforced uniformity at all levels. If these people could be Catholic for six months they would soon realize how ridiculous such a charge is. My experience is that the Catholic Church (in styles of worship and spirituality) is just as diverse as the Anglican Church, and when the styles and traditions of the different ethnic and national groups are thrown in that diversity becomes even greater. Furthermore, this diversity according to national customs and ethnic traditions (and this includes the wide diversity expressed in the Eastern Rite Churches) is encouraged.



The difference is that underneath all the diversity and expansion of the Catholic Church worldwide there is a rock. There is shared foundation of authority which provides unity. There is a unity of theology and a unity of form. When I say there is unity I do not propose that there is uniformity. The unity is the foundation for our whole life together.



Here is how it works: In the town where I live and work here in the USA we have extreme diversity in the Catholic Church. We have one parish with Anglican style hymns, formality and fine music and good 'Evangelical' style preaching. In another huge parish the style is informal with praise and worship music and family-pleasing liturgies. A third parish has a Franciscan friar who works with the African American community. He works hard to establish justice as he works with the poor. The liturgy at his church has gospel music and a down to earth 'relevant' style. At yet another parish a young priest who loves the Latin Mass has just been appointed. Add to this mix a huge Hispanic ministry in four of the churches, an active and vital Vietnamese ministry and other traditions from around the world and the church here is anything but uniform. So uniformity is not enforced, but unity is enjoyed.



Of what does this unity consist? As you can imagine there are some real disagreements among the clergy, but beneath all of this diversity and disagreement there are some truths that are very fundamental to our lives. We all know who the pope is. We all know that the authority comes from the church to the bishops to the priests. We all know what the Catechism teaches. We all know what a sacrament is and who may celebrate that sacrament validly. We all know what the church teaches about marriage and sexuality and morality of all kinds.



We may not all agree with that teaching. We may debate it. We may rebel against it. We may dissent from the teaching--but my point is that the teaching is there. The rock is there. Whether it is a stumbling block or a stepping stone is up to us.



In Protestantism, on the other hand, there is no rock. There is just the shifting sand.

Gentle Jesus Meek and Mild?

One of the charges against religious people by the atheists is that we believe in a sugar daddy in the sky who will take us to heaven when we die. In other words, for all our talk of self sacrifice and helping others and doing good--in fact it's simply self interest. We're investing in a great big life insurance plan. We pay in the good works and faith and love and all that good stuff and we get happiness and heaven and forgiveness and a chance to see Grandma and Grandpa and all our loved ones again.



I blame Evangelical Protestantism for this one. At least, the form of watered down Calvinism that passes for the Christian religion in America. Most especially I blame the distorted doctrine of 'eternal security'. This is the idea that once you accept Jesus and 'get saved' that you've got your ticket to heaven and everything will be just fine. No need to worry.



When you stop to analyze the Catholic faith--the form of the Christian religion believed by most Christians in most places at most times down the ages--you will realize that the atheist's charge doesn't stick. Here's why: Catholicism teaches that you may very well go to heaven if you have faith in Jesus Christ and are transformed by his grace into the saint you are destined to be. However--and that's a big 'however'--it's not a guarantee. There is still everything to play for. You might just get into heaven, but there's a high mountain before you, and there's many a chance to slip and fall into the pit.



So. This means heaven is a sure hope, but not a sure bet. Therefore, the real message is one of hope, but not one which should make us feel cotton candy happy. There's work to be done, and we only get into heaven if we move beyond the self interested form of religion to something which really is self sacrifice. "Unless you take up your cross and follow me you cannot enter the kingdom." This is a serious business and far from the nauseating, little family reunion--class trip to heaven which the atheists rightly criticize.



Furthermore, the idea that God in heaven is an avuncular figure who chuckles indulgently and forgets our sins and welcomes us into bliss if we just sign on the dotted line and weep for a moment and repent and 'get saved' is not the idea of God for Catholics.



Oh, yes indeed, he is the forgiving father--but road back to the Father is long and hard. It is full of reality, and humankind cannot bear very much reality. The loving Father is also the stern judge, and he is there to judge us for what we've done and left undone.



Certainly some shallow forms of Christianity can be blamed for sugary wishful thinking, but if I were thinking wishfully, the stern judge of all, and the long road of purgation is not what I would have wished for. Consequently, those who take this seriously cannot be accused of believing something comforting, or something which is all sweetness and light. This form of the Christian faith is not for sissies. It's not something which I actually like very much to tell you the truth.



Christians of all sorts--and Catholics too--should throw out the sentimental clap trap. For the sake of our own souls we need to get rid of gentle Jesus meek and mild and look for the one who cleared the temple and turned over the tables. Probably the most dangerous trend in the modern church is this sentimentality--which give us a false sense of security about our destiny. It lulls us to sleep.



It's spiritual poison.

Lying About Santa

Fr Newman got into hot water some time ago for explaining to the children of the parish that Santa Claus was (I believe his words were) "a fat pagan elf." I was rather amused by his outspoken defense of St Nicholas, but I believe there was a minor firestorm among the families in the parish...much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth (and that was just the mothers)



I'm on his side, and call me a Scrooge, but I never lied to my kids about Santa. I thought it just wasn't fair. I had told them from the beginning that there were really only two rules: 1. Never lie 2. No direct disobedience. That seemed to do the trick and all four have turned out to be nice kids.



So why would I break my own rule and lie to them about Santa Claus. Furthermore, the lie is so extravagant. Santa Claus visits every home in a reindeer driven sleigh on Christmas Eve? He comes down the chimney? Rudolph eats the carrot left for him? C'mon. It's not fair. Furthermore, if you tell your kids this stuff you're setting yourself up for a fall later. They're not going to trust you.



Especially they're not going to trust you about religion. You take them to church for Christmas and tell them a beautiful story about a baby in a manger and shepherds who see angels who come to them in the sky at night and wise men who come on camels and bring rich presents to the little fellow asleep in the hay. So they're supposed to believe that story, but they're supposed to also believe the one about the fat elf, the toys, the persecuted reindeer and all that baloney?



Here's what happens--if you're not careful, they bundle all the stuff up together in their minds and when they learn that Santa's a fake they figure all that other Christmas stuff was a fake too. Angels? No more real than flying reindeer. Wise men from afar? Much the same as Santa at the North Pole. Babies in mangers receiving gifts? It's like the presents under the tree. Conclusion? The Christmas story with Jesus and Mary and Joseph is just another make believe.



So we didn't tell the kids there was a Santa Claus or an Easter Bunny or a Tooth Fairy or any of that nonsense. We weren't total spoil sports though. We put out presents and left sherry and a mince pie for Santa and a carrot for Rudolph, but when they came down and saw half a mince pie and half a carrot we joked and said, "Geesh, kids, it was Dad who drank the sherry and Mom who ate the mince pie. Santa Claus is just a fun story."



Isn't that the best way? Allow them the fairy tales and fun stories, but don't lie and pretend they are real the way the true Christmas story is real. Help them distinguish historical truth and gospel truth from fairy tales and all that fun stuff. You'll be doing them a favor.