Begin with the Christian premise that obliges us toward peace and against war. Just war theory is the body of moral reasoning developed to discern when the primary bias against war may shift toward an obligation to protect and defend. History proves there are times when violence can't be avoided and must be engaged. Just war theory insists that war can never serve a political or economic purpose. Military action must serve a fundamentally moral purpose. Both societies and individuals are accountable for the decision to fight and must soberly consider why they do.

We’re not served well in our appreciation of the word repent by the many films featuring some be-frocked priest or Puritan shaking a cross in people’s faces and demanding, “Sinner, repent!” Repentance doesn’t necessarily require falling on our knees and beating our breasts, though sometimes that may be the appropriate response—as it was for skeptical Thomas, when the resurrected Lord whom he'd doubted stood before him. Basically, to repent means to change course. That can mean movement if we’ve been standing still, or stopping if we’ve been in frantic motion. It can mean changing our minds or our hearts, our direction or our behavior.

The word has several important root meanings. The earliest is the Hebrew word t’shuvah, meaning "return." It’s a crucial concept to prophets like Amos, Hosea, and Jeremiah. Their fellow citizens have wandered far from God's ways, and it’s time for them to return home. The rabbis tell a story of a young man who falls in with a bad crowd and winds up far from home, destitute and ashamed. His father sends word for the son to return. “I cannot,” the young man replies, “It is too far.” Too far in distance, surely, but also in moral stature. His father responds: “Come as far as you can, and I will come the rest of the way.”

This story reminds us how our failures put us at a distance from those whom we love, from the community of faith to which we belong. Yet love is willing to share the journey toward reunion and reconciliation. We return to God, and God returns to us.

If t’shuvah is the Old Testament word for repentance, metanoia is the New Testament Greek term that carries a similar meaning. John the Baptist first issues the call to change direction, signaled by baptism in the Jordan. Jesus uses this term when he invites his listeners to change their dispositions—to turn their hearts and lives around—in response to his teaching. Our word repentance carries the additional meaning of expressing regret for past actions and attitudes—along with the expectation that real change is forthcoming. In addition, the word conversion means turning around, implying a reorientation of intentions and actions. In the sacrament of reconciliation, we include the stipulation of “making reparation” for what we’ve done or failed to do that has caused harm.

Scripture: 

Amos 4:6-11; Hosea 5:15—6:3; Jeremiah 3:12-22; Mark 1:4, 14-15; Matthew 3:1-2; 4:17; Luke 3:3; 13:1-5; Acts 2:37-39; 3:19; 26:17-20; 2 Peter 3:9

Books:

The Forgiveness Book – Alice Camille and Paul Boudreau (Chicago, IL: ACTA Publications, 2008)

Radical Forgiveness – Antoinette Bosco (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2009)

“We three kings of Orient are/ bearing gifts we traverse afar.” Nowhere in Matthew does it claim there are three. And Matthew never calls them kings. They are magi, hereditary priests of the ancient Medes and Persians. From this talented crew we get the word magic. But you can’t make a decent song out of “we unnumbered magi.” At least the carol gets one thing right: This group of wise fellows does bear gifts.

So how did kings get into the picture? Lay this at Isaiah’s door. He prophesies that kings will walk by the light of the Lord to Jerusalem. Their caravans will indeed bring gifts of gold and frankincense—but alas, no myrrh in Isaiah's vision of this scene. Gold symbolizes wealth and power. Frankincense, used in prayer, represents the divine Presence. Myrrh prepares bodies for burial. It's an ominous sign that would make a startling gift.

Matthew’s gift-bearers are wise men for sure. There is something "magical" about their foresight. Power, divinity, and death are three sober elements that will accompany Jesus from Bethlehem to Jerusalem. These were strange birthday presents to be sure. But they were appropriate honors for the King of the Universe, the Divine Son, and the crucified Lord.

Gold. Frankincense. Myrrh. These were the gifts Jesus received long, long ago. But we also bear him gifts at every Eucharist: Bread. Wine. Our financial sacrifice. These are all "made by human hands" one way and another. And, as Jesuit Roc O'Connor suggests, these are gifts transformed and returned to us as Body and Blood of Christ, and redistributed resources for those in need.

More gifts come to us by way of this shared Table. Grace pours out on the assembly. But grace can seem like one of those white elephant gifts: Now that we have it, what do we do with it? Church teaching describes grace as internal sanctification. We're made holy, fit “temples of the Holy Spirit,” as Paul assures us. This isn’t about spiritually fumigating your chest cavity. It’s about becoming, like Mary, God-bearers: those who carry the divine presence wherever we go.

Grace moves at God’s initiative. We can’t muster it up by sheer force of moral living. Paul says we can try to save ourselves by obedience—but we will surely fail. Grace forgives sin, and rescues us from every evil. This is one gift you don’t want to put at the bottom of a closet.

Scripture

Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72; Ephesians 3:2-6; Matthew 2:1-12; 1 Corinthians 6:19

Books

At the Supper of the Lamb: A Pastoral and Theological Commentary on the Mass - Paul Turner (Archdiocese of Chicago: Liturgy Training Publication, 2011)

In the Midst of Our Storms: Opening Ourselves to Christ in the Liturgy - Roc O'Connor, SJ (Archdiocese of Chicago: Liturgy Training Publication, 2015)

Evangelist translates from the Greek as "messenger of good tidings." All baptized persons are called to be such messengers. From the professional preacher to the person who exemplifies a life of Christian virtue, all might validly claim to be evangelists.

As early as Isaiah's prophecies, heralds of good news are cited in the Bible. In the Letter to the Ephesians, apostles, prophets, and evangelists play vital roles within the church. The deacon Philip in Acts is called an evangelist, as is Paul's protege Timothy. So it's clear that in biblical terms, evangelist is not an exclusive term.

However, by the time of the third-century church fathers, the list of evangelists seems reduced down to four: the gospel writers Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. These four concretized the Good News which the whole church going forward would proclaim. In early church art, the four evangelists were simply depicted as men holding books, or symbolically as four scrolls situated at the corners of a cross. They were also imagined as the four rivers of Paradise mentioned in Genesis: Pishon, Gihon, Tigris, and Euphrates, meant to water the earth and give it life.

By the fourth century, the symbology of the gospel evangelists became a standardized tetramorph ("four shapes"): man, lion, ox, and eagle. These were not arbitrarily chosen. In the initial vision of the prophet Ezekiel, he perceives "a great stormwind" blowing in from the North. Riding this gale are four living creatures. They appear in human form with faces, legs, and hands. But they also have wings and polished hooves. Facing outwardly in the four directions, their faces resemble a human, lion, ox, and eagle respectively. "Wherever the spirit would go, they went; they did not change direction when they moved." These extraordinary creatures are four and yet unified in their movement. They also burn like coals of fire.

This tetramorph makes a reappearance in the Book of Revelation, and it's likely that the writer, John of Patmos, consciously intends the gospel writers with this usage. Matthew emphasizes the humanity of Jesus: he's represented as the man. Mark highlights the divinity and kingship of Jesus, and is identified as the lion. Luke holds up the sacrificial character of Jesus and so becomes the ox. John is the eagle. His gospel soars above the others with its transcendent perspective on the meaning of Jesus as the eternal Christ.

Scriptures: Genesis 2:10-14; Isaiah 52:7; Ezekiel 1:4-25; Luke 4:18-21; Acts 21:8; Ephesians 4:11-16; 2 Timothy 4:5; Revelation 4:6-8, 5:14

Books: Dictionary of Christian Art, by Diane Apostolos-Cappadona (Continuum Publishing Company, 1994)

Preaching to a Multi-generational Assembly, by Andrew Carl Wisdom, O.P. (Liturgical Press, 2004)

A Eucharistic spirituality is ground-level for life as a Catholic. It's built on the three gospel accounts of the Last Supper, in which Jesus urges his friends to "do this in memory of me." While John's gospel doesn't recount the Last Supper meal narrative, John does have an extended teaching on Jesus as the bread of life in chapter six. Saint Paul also reiterates the Last Supper instruction in his First Letter to the Corinthians: "For I received from the Lord what I also handed onto you."

Jesus employed one or perhaps two well-known forms of Jewish prayer from lifelong ritual practice. One is the berakah or prayer of thanksgiving to God commonly prayed over the bread and the cup. Another is the todah or sacrifice of praise in which leavened bread was used along with prayers of praise. Christians use the word Eucharist—thanksgiving—for our communion liturgy as a whole.

How Eucharist was celebrated developed over time and was distinctive geographically from Jerusalem to Rome to Carthage, and from East to West. But early teachers like Justin Martyr, Tertullian, Cyril, Ambrose, and Augustine agreed that Eucharist had several significant meanings. One was the impact of the Passion of Christ for human history. Another was the unity in which all Christians shared as the Body of Christ. A third meaning was that engaging this sacrament had profound moral implications for those who did.

The medieval church made a swing away from this "symbolic" thinking about the Eucharist to an "instrumental" focus. That is, we went from reflecting on WHY Jesus makes this self-offering to HOW it's accomplished ritually and theologically. This impoverished the church's communion in many ways. The complicated rhetoric was harder to teach to the uneducated, and so fewer understood what was being celebrated. As a result, reception of the sacrament declined. Passive piety and miraculous stories about the Host replaced an active embrace of a moral life formed by an incorporation into Christ's Body. Believers sought to adore the Host than to live a life of thanksgiving and praise.

In the early 20th century, Pope Pius X advocated frequent reception of the Eucharist and to younger-aged children. Pius XII added to those reforms. The Second Vatican Council sought to restore "full, conscious, and active" participation in the Eucharist so that the people of God might again remember that the "why" of Eucharist is more vital than the "how."

Scriptures: Exodus 24:5-8; Jeremiah 31:31-34; Mark 14:22-25; Matthew 26:26-29; Luke 22:14-20; John 6:1-15, 22-65; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; (see also Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Vatican II documents, 1963)

Books: Pope Francis on Eucharist: 100 Daily Meditations for Adoration, Prayer, and Reflection, by Pope Francis, with foreward by Cardinal Blase Cupich (Liturgical Press, 2023)

Communion Ecclesiology: Vision and Versions, by Dennis M. Doyle (Orbis Books, 2000)

Of 266 popes so far, about 34 have belonged to religious orders. The exact count varies, but the most frequent pope-supplying order are the Benedictines (17), followed by Augustinians (six), and Dominicans and Franciscans (four each). The Cistercians supplied two. Pope Francis is the first Jesuit, and the first non-European pope in nearly 1,300 years. That latter fact is at least as influential on the direction of his papacy as his Jesuit-ness.

But certainly being a Jesuit affects how Francis thinks and prioritizes for the Church. According to Jesuit writer Frank Houdek, Jesuit spirituality—as presented in the Constitutions of their Society and particularly in the Spiritual Exercises of their founder Saint Ignatius—is based on six essential elements. The first is that their identity is in Christ—which you can probably guess from their official name, the Society of Jesus. This Christocentrism isn't merely dogmatic but involves fostering a personal bond with the living Christ. The second component of Jesuit life is recognizing oneself as a collaborator with the activity of God. Just as Jesuits take seriously the living Christ, they also passionately hold that God is engaged with the world and it's our responsibility to be coworkers and not obstacles to divine movement.

The third Jesuit conviction is a keen emphasis on spiritual discernment rather than pragmatic decision-making. Divine patterns and rhythms are discernible in our personal and communal life and we can develop a sense of where God is leading if we are attentive. Magnanimity of spirit is next, and it's a word we non-Jesuits may not use often. The magnanimous heart is generous, courageous, and heroic in its efforts. The good Jesuit envisions himself as a superhero for God's intentions, and maybe that's why we read so many hagiographies of Jesuit martyrs. Perhaps Pope Francis felt that tug of heroism when he accepted his election to the papacy.

The fifth element of Jesuit life is fraternity, but that sounds like what any religious community is about, doesn't it? Yes, but Jesuits imagine themselves as "friends in the Lord" and friends OF the Lord: that is, in the company of Jesus together. Perhaps the best-known Jesuit theme is the last: "finding God in all things." Prayer and service, affect and intellect, all are integrated into the Jesuit mission. Listen to the Pope's teachings, and see how many of these ideas you hear echoed in his words.

Scriptures: 1 Samuel 3:1-19; Psalms 19; 61; 71; 90; 121; 130; 139; Song of Songs 8:6-7: Isaiah 45:4; Jeremiah 29:11-14; Mark 1:16-20; Matthew 28:16-20; Luke 4:14-21; 18:18-30; 24:13-35; John 15:11-17; 21:1-18; 2 Corinthians 5:14-15; Galatians 2:19-20; Ephesians 2:10; 5:1-2 

Books: Guided By the Spirit: A Jesuit Perspective on Spiritual Direction, by Frank J. Houdek, S.J. (Loyola Press, 1996)

Hearts on Fire: Praying with Jesuits, edited by Michael Harter, S.J. (Loyola Press, 2005)

A lot of kissing goes on, in the Bible as outside of it. Some 50 references, to be precise—but not all are kisses of peace, nor what the New Testament frequently calls "a holy kiss." Many kisses, within and apart from Scripture, are exchanged between spouses, lovers, children and parents, friends or family in the hour of separation. Such gestures imply affection and a close personal bond.

However, biblical kisses may mean more. Ritual kisses are exchanged between kings and their subjects as a sign of fealty. The prophet Samuel kisses Saul when anointing him first king of Israel. The hand of a lender may be kissed by a borrower. These kisses are promises of action or renumeration to follow. Kisses may also signal reconciliation. In this way, aggrieved Esau kisses Jacob when the long-separated brothers are reunited. Joseph kisses the brothers who sold him into slavery when the family is finally restored. Jesus recommends all divisions be similarly resolved before approaching the altar with a gift.

Proverbs describes an honest reply as "a kiss on the lips." Psalm 85 imagines the meeting of justice and peace as a kiss. Such plentiful ritual use of the kiss is why betrayal with a kiss is both unexpected and reprehensible. As early as Genesis, Jacob deceives his blind father with a kiss, posing as his brother to steal his paternal blessing. King David's general Joab pretends to kiss an enemy Amasa, then stabs him in the abdomen. Most famously, Judas betrays Jesus to a mob in Gethsemane by greeting him with a most unholy kiss.

The church restores the ritual practice of the kiss in its liturgy. The kiss or sign of peace is first mentioned by Justin Martyr as part of the liturgy in the second century. It was delivered after the Prayer of the Faithful: "When the prayers are concluded we exchange the kiss." In the 5th century, Pope Innocent repositioned the kiss after the Eucharist. In the 11th century, "the bond of peace and charity" preceded communion. The 1474 Missal utilized the words of the Risen Lord: "Peace be with you." In the documents of Vatican II, Pope Paul VI wanted to make the kiss of peace obligatory rather than optional. Even if we don't exchange so much as a handshake these days, the "kiss" is delivered by exchanging the words: Peace be with you.

Scripture: Genesis 27:26-27; 33:4; 45:15; 2 Samuel 20:9; Psalm 85:11; Proverbs 24:26; Sirach 29:5; Mark 14:44-45; Matthew 5:23-24; 26:48-49; Luke 7:38, 45; 15:20; 22:47-48; Acts 20:37; Romans 16:16; 1 Corinthians 16:20; 2 Corinthians 13:12; 1 Thessalonians 5:26; 1 Peter 5:14

Books: At the Supper of the Lamb: A Pastoral and Theological Commentary on the Mass, by Paul Turner (Liturgy Training Publications, 2011)

The Liturgy and Catholic Social Teaching: Participation in Worship and the World, edited Danielle A. Noe (Liturgy Training Publications, 2018)

Peter's a remarkable person in the New Testament. Many people counted themselves as admirers of Jesus for shorter or longer periods during his earthly ministry. Some, both women and men, were serious disciples who accompanied Jesus since the Galilee days. A mere dozen were special members of his inner circle, known as the Twelve. Among the Twelve, three (Peter, James, and John) became Jesus' most trusted friends: present at the Transfiguration, and also invited to pray with him in Gethsemane just before his arrest. Yet even among these favored three, Peter makes a singular impression.

Peter is mentioned nearly 175 times in the New Testament, almost twice as often as John and three times as often as James. Peter is a fisherman personally invited by Jesus to fish for people. In John's gospel, he's called a shepherd of Christ's sheep. In Matthew's narrative, Jesus declares Peter the rock upon which his church will be built. This is because Peter receives the special revelation that Jesus is the Son of the living God.

In Acts, Peter has a vision that reveals to him that Gentiles as well as Jews will be welcomed into the church. In the letters attributed to him, Peter is perceived as an elder among elders, as well as one capable of amending errant teachings. Yet Peter's also represented in Acts as a team player, working in full partnership with John and willing to accept the discernment of James when in Jerusalem. Peter's not just the boss left in charge after Jesus returns to his Father. After an early career of impulsive speech and rash behavior, Peter's been humbled, becoming a leader who appreciates that the wisest way to wield authority is to seek good counsel and faithful collaborators all along the path.

To find the job description of a modern pope, look no further than Peter's example. The fisherman who casts the broadest possible net, the shepherd intimately companioning the sheep, the rock upon which the structure of church depends: these are the fundamental tasks of the papacy. A pope must also be a person of deep prayer open to revelation and new insights—even spectacular ones that shake up social expectations. A pope must gather wise and collaborative counselors, yet be ready to make the final call when necessary. All of this makes a Petrine foundation an essential component of Catholic authority.

Scripture: Matthew 16:16-18; Luke 5:10; John 21:1-17; Acts 1:9-16; 3:1-11; 4:1-22; 8:14; 1 Peter 5:1; 2 Peter 3:15-16

Books: Four Times Peter: Portrayals of Peter in the Four Gospels and at Philippi, by Richard J. Cassidy (Liturgical Press, 2015)

Petrine Ministry and the Unity of the Church: Toward a Patient and Fraternal Dialogue, by James F. Puglisi, ed. (Liturgical Press, 1999)

A Venn diagram of these two words would find some overlap. But they're not equivalents. Jews have their origins in a people once known as Hebrews, whose story is recorded in the Old Testament. Their story doesn't begin with Adam and Eve, the mythical first people, but in chapter ten of Genesis with the descendants of Eber, son of Shem, noted in the Table of Nations. 

Abraham is called a Hebrew, as is his great-grandson Joseph. Their community as a whole is often identified as Hebrew. But the designation is not used by the people themselves, who later identify primarily as Israelites, a name tying them to their patriarch Jacob, grandson of Abraham. Jacob's name is changed to Israel after he wrestles with an angelic being. 

Other biblical nations primarily refer to Israelites as Hebrews, a term rooted in the Near Eastern word 'apiru. Neither an ethnic nor a racial category, 'apiru is the political status of wanderers, dissidents, or unwelcome non-citizens. Such nomadic people were viewed as vagabonds, withdrawn from the social networks and responsibilities of upstanding people in the land. As Israelite dietary restrictions and purity laws evolved, these made it increasingly difficult for them to associate in the amicable venues of other nations. The more they distinguished themselves as different, the less welcome Israelites were.

We can appreciate why Israelites didn't use the name Hebrew, especially after they settled in the land of Canaan ca. 1225 BCE. Yet the name is retained for the ancient language of Israel. Hebrew derived from a Semitic language of Canaan. But in the 6th century BCE, after a generation of exile in Babylon, the spoken language of the people became Aramaic. It was the preferred tongue of the Persian Empire of which they were now a part. Hebrew was used only in prayer and scholarship, much as Latin was in the Roman church long after it ceased to be a living spoken tongue.

So how did Israelites known widely as Hebrews become Jews? The southern kingdom of Abraham's descendants was originally given to the tribe of Judah. (The north was called Israel, destroyed by Assyria in 722 BCE). When the Judahites were hustled off to Babylon, the land formerly known as Judah became known by the Persian designation Yehud. When the Romans took it over in 66 BCE, they called it Judea. Judeans became Jews, and the name stuck.

Scriptures: Genesis 10:21 (see footnote NABRE), 24-25; 11:14-17; 14:13 (see footnote NABRE); 39:14, 17; Exodus chs. 1—7; 21:2; Deuteronomy 15:12; 1 Samuel chs. 4—14; Acts 6:1

Books: Reading the Old Testament: An Introduction, by Lawrence Boadt, CSP, revised edition by Richard Clifford and Daniel Harrington (Paulist Press, 2012)

A History of Ancient Israel and Judah, by J. Maxwell Miller and John H. Hayes (Westminster John Knox, 2006)

The classic definition of a sacrament is that it's an outward sign instituted by Christ to give grace. "Instituted by Christ" is a curious phrase. It clearly does not mean that Jesus, in his lifetime on earth, listed seven and only seven actions that will forever be known as sacraments. In fact, Jesus never uses the word.

The definition derives from fifth-century Saint Augustine, who taught that a sacrament is "an outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible grace." He left out the part about where they came from. Third-century theologian Tertullian seems to have begun calling the initiating rituals of the church by the term sacramentum, which at the time was used for the oath of loyalty a Roman soldier vowed to the emperor. This Latin root word for sacrament means hidden or secret, similar to the Greek word for mystery.

Augustine advances the understanding of a sacrament by linking it to efficacy: that is, it effects what it signifies, does what it says. So baptism's waters bring death to sin and new life to us. Bread and wine become Christ's body and blood. However, Augustine fails to supply a definitive list of which actions do this. Nor does he limit sacraments to rituals but also includes objects. Across his writings, some 300 actions and elements are deemed signs of sacred realities; it's unclear that Augustine doesn't intend them all to be sacraments.

The church over time limits sacraments to ritual acts. Things—like holy water, ashes, palms—can be "sacramentals": elements that derive meaning from the sacraments. The Fourth Lateran Council in 1215 delineated the list of seven sacraments Catholics celebrate today.

In the New Testament, the ritual acts routinely practiced by the early church were baptism of new members and the breaking of the bread on the first day of the week. The Letter of James recommends anointing the sick, in imitation of Jesus who frequently touched those he healed. The practice of laying hands on those chosen for leadership is attested in the Acts of the Apostles. Both Jesus and Saint Paul rigorously support faithful marriages and forgiveness of sins in their teaching. Communicating the Holy Spirit as a seal of mature faith is also demonstrated by Jesus and later the apostles. Theologian Mark R. Francis implies that God "invents" sacraments as they exist to save us. It's the whole reason we have them—and the church.

Scriptures: Mark 1:9-10; 6:41-44; 8:23; 10:2-12; 14:22-24; Matthew 18:18; 19:1-9; 28:19; Luke 22:19-20; John 2:1-11; John 20:22-23; Acts 2:38, 41-42; 6:3-6; 8:14-17; 1 Corinthians 7:10-16; James 5:14-16

Books: Shape a Circle Ever Wider: Liturgical Inculturation in the United States - Mark R. Francis (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 2007)

The Sacraments: Historical Foundations and Liturgical Theology - Kevin Irwin (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2016)

Zion is a where and a what. Let's start with Jerusalem, built on two hills east and west, 2400 feet above sea level in its present location. Ancient Jerusalem stood slightly lower to the southeast, outside the walls of what's presently known as the Old City. David captured the fortress of Zion from the Jebusites around 1000 BCE, renaming it the City of David. His capital city was built around it on the eastern hill. Yet apparently by the time of first-century historian Josephus, it was the western hill, larger and higher, that was known as Zion. 

Either way, elevated Zion made an excellent capital: naturally defensible on all sides except the north, with a water supply from the Gihon spring on the eastern hill.

After the construction of the temple by King Solomon, Zion came to refer more specifically to the temple mount north of David's city, as the many psalms celebrating the ascent to the temple attest. This may be when the location of Zion decisively shifts from east to west. In Solomon's time the designation Jerusalem—"the foundation of Salem," an earlier name known at the time of Abraham—seems to eclipse other names for the location, both inside and outside the walls. So we see already that Zion was once the name of a hill and also a fortress on that hill. It became synonymous with the City of David, and finally interchangeable with the site of the Temple built in Solomon's time. 

But the idea of Zion continues to migrate. Ezekiel's prophecies re-envision both temple and Jerusalem with a celestial dimension. The Book of Revelation takes them out of time altogether. Geography falls away as "God's holy mountain" (Ps. 2) is infused with an eternal identity. So it happens that, in the Byzantine era, the ridge southwest of contemporary Jerusalem becomes designated as Zion. This ridge contains the traditional sites of both the tomb of David and the Cenacle—the latter being the upper room where the Last Supper was held. Could it be that "God's holy mountain," the place where God chooses to dwell, is reassigned by the actions at the Last Supper? In the new and everlasting covenant of our Eucharist, the "upper" room where this sacrament is instituted is revealed as a new Zion. In that case, each of the elevated sanctuaries upon which our altars stand is a little Zion too.

Scriptures: 2 Samuel 5:6-12; 1 Kings 8:1; 1 Chronicles 11:4-5; 2 Chronicles 5:1-2; Psalms 2:6; 46:5; 78:68-69; Isaiah 2:2-5; 60:1-3; 66:18-20; Ezekiel 47:1-12; Micah 4:1-3; Zechariah 8:20-23; Joel 4:16-18; Matthew 21:5; John 12:15; Romans 9:33; 11:26; Hebrews 12:22; 1 Peter 2:6; Revelation 14:1

Books: The Holy City: Jerusalem in the Theology of the Old Testament - Leslie Hoppe, OFM (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2000)

The Long Journey: In Search of Justice and Peace in Jerusalem - James G. Paharik (Liturgical Press, 2009)

Halos are visual shorthand, part of the symbolic vocabulary of Christianity that was for centuries the only catechism for multitudes of believers who couldn't read. In a more literate age, such symbols are no longer necessary. But we still use them, since they reveal at a glance that this person is a guide and helper on our own road to sanctity.

The idea that light emanates from holy ones is also biblically attested. God's glory is understood as a form of radiance. When Moses goes up Mt. Sinai to encounter God face to face, he returns so radiant that he must veil his face from the community so as not to risk contact between the sacred and profane—always a hazardous business. Thereafter, whenever Moses enters the Tent of Presence to meet with God, he covers his face afterwards. Close encounters with God appear to place us in contagious proximity to divine glory. The emanation from Moses was later translated from Hebrew by biblical scholar Saint Jerome as horns rather than rays of light, which is why some artists depicted Moses with horns. 

It may not have been a mistranslation. Egyptian and Mesopotamian gods and heroes wore horns as a sign of their glory, honor, and authority. Later on, horns and rays are rounded out into the more familiar halo, often painted with gold foil or set with precious metals and jewels in icons. Circles are perfect, like divinity. Christ receives the first round halo in art, then the angels, and finally the saints. Interesting, rare portraits of God the Father employed a triangular halo instead to recall the Trinity. Baby Jesus sometimes has one too–perhaps because he so recently departed the Trinitarian realm for earth. Jesus may also be crowned with a cruciform halo, which is uniquely his.

Faith, Hope, and Love are sometimes shown in art as human figures and when they are, they wear hexagonal halos. So too the cardinal virtues Justice, Prudence, Fortitude, and Temperance. The very rare square halo was used to denote a living person popularly proclaimed a saint, but technically not yet eligible for the crown of light. As minimalism became fashionable in art, the halo was reduced to a disc hovering overhead, or even a mere circlet of gold. Animals that symbolize holy ones—the Lamb of God, the Holy Spirit dove, and the four Evangelists of Revelation—might also wear halos. You and I, too, hope to do so.

Scripture: Exodus 34:27-35; Deuteronomy 5:23-27; 2 Chronicles 5:14; 26:18; Psalm 19:2; 79:9; 89:16; Isaiah 35:2; 60:1-3; Baruch 5:1-3, 9; Ezekiel 8:4; 43:2; Daniel 12:3; Wisdom 7:10, 25-30; Sirach 43:9; Mark 15:38; Matthew 27:51; Luke 23:45; John 1:3-9; Acts 7:55-56; Romans 8:16-17; 2 Corinthians 3:12-18; 4:3-6; Revelation 21:11, 22-24 

Books: The Square Halo, and Other Mysteries of Western Art: Images and the Stories That Inspired Them - Sally Fisher (New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc, 1995)

Dictionary of Christian Art - Diane Apostolos-Cappadona (New York: Continuum Publishing Company, 1994)

We regard time linearly because we experience it this way: each day marching in a progression toward the future. We view the past similarly, only fixed as if set in amber. It's natural to imagine the birth of Jesus as we do our own birthdays: stamped on the calendar on December 25th and celebrated on its anniversary annually. 

Except in the East, where Christ's coming is observed on January 6th. How can this be?

Consider that the ancients told time in terms of the great sky clocks, sun and moon. Seasons and occasions were established according to the heavenly orbs, not to mention patterns of rainfall. Calendars were shaped by familiar cycles so crops might be planted and harvested successfully.

Another significant factor in dating was the succession of rulers. So Matthew tells us about a new star in the heavens signaling a new king's arrival, but also that this occurred during the present reign of King Herod. Luke also acknowledges who held the reins of power during this event: Roman Caesar Tiberias, Palestinian procurator Pontius Pilate, and high priests Annas and Caiaphas. Details we might prefer—day of the week, date of the month, or month itself—weren't recorded. A study of celestial anomalies of this period hasn't produced an exact calendar date for the newborn king.

As the early church spread out across many cultures, news traveled slowly. Inevitably the church experienced natural divisions and differing customs. Churches of the East and West were both improvising. The winter solstice, the longest night of darkness around December 21, was already a significant observance. It seemed fitting to celebrate the arrival of the Light of the World as days grew longer beyond the solstice. Jerusalem tradition had chosen January 6 for the celebration of this Theophany, Greek for "Divine Manifestation," and this custom was embraced throughout the Eastern churches. Many of these churches observed a sequence of "epiphanies" leading up to the great one: annunciations to Zechariah and Mary, Mary and Elizabeth's visitation, John's birth, the annunciation to Joseph, and finally the birth of Jesus. 

Meanwhile, Western Christians called this same divine manifestation by the name Epiphany, observing it in late December. In time, Eastern and Western traditions mingled to create a unified liturgical chain between Nativity and Epiphany. Choosing a precise date for a historically unknown event was less important than preparing to receive this manifestation with minds and hearts fully awake.

Scripture: Exodus 23:14-17; Leviticus 23:1-44; Deuteronomy  26:1-3; 1 Maccabees 4:56-59; Ecclesiastes 1:4–7, 9-10; 3:1-8; Hosea 2:13; Zechariah 14:6-9; Mark 1:14-15; Matthew 2:1-2; Luke 3:1-2; John 1:1-5, 14

Books: Days of the Lord: The Liturgical Year, Vol. 1: Advent, Christmas, Epiphany (Liturgical Press, 1991)

Biblical Meditations for Advent and the Christmas Season, by Carroll Stuhlmueller, CP (Paulist Press, 1980)

Hospitals have a fascinating history. In the 19th century, they were popularly conceived as places where you were assured "a bed to lie in and to die in." People reacted to hospitals similarly to the Sacrament of the Sick: as a sure sign you were on your way out. In the era before germ theory was understood, the chances of getting sicker in a hospital—where the critically ill were gathered and treated by doctors who didn't wash their hands between patients—was admittedly high. For this reason, some older people still avoid doctors and hospitals, seeing both as omens of the end.

From ancient times, the healing ministry was a natural function of religion. Faith healing was in the hands of religious practitioners. The Bible describes how priests were invested with the authority to banish the contagious from public life, and also to pronounce them cured and restored to the community. The popularity of healing pools is evident in the gospels, as well as exorcisms and magical rituals. In the century before Jesus, Sirach puts in a good word for doctors too. During Jesus' ministry, people naturally bring their sick to the man "who speaks with authority," and receive physical and mental cures. The evangelist Luke was attracted to the church as a physician and recorded many healing narratives.

As early as the 5th century BC—when Hippocrates uttered his oath, "First, do no harm" —science joined the healing business. Medical schools were operating in 40 BC. Yet the church continued to engage in healing ministries with sacraments for the sick and the sinner. Care for the sick was declared a work of mercy. When Constantine embraced Christianity in the 4th century, hospitals opened in every cathedral town of the Roman empire. Early hospitals functioned as hostels, almshouses, and healing facilities at once. In a word, they offered hospitality: a term rooted in addressing the needs of the stranger. Many saints took the infirm into their homes, or pursued full-time doctoring at no charge like Cosmas and Damian. 

Secular hospitals emerged by the 16th and 17th centuries. Yet often the church embraced patients they refused: Damien de Veuster and Marianne Cope ministered to lepers in Hawaii. Frances Cabrini opened hospitals for the under-served poor in New York and Chicago.  The esteemed Mayo Clinic was founded and funded by Franciscan Sisters in Rochester. If we take seriously the concept that "all healing is faith healing," it's hard to imagine the church getting out of the hospital business.

Scriptures: Leviticus 13:1-46; Sirach 38:1-15; 7:31-37; 8:22-26; Matthew 4:23-24; 8:1-17; 10:5-8; Luke 17:11-19; 18:35-43; John 5:1-9; 9:1-7; Acts 3:1-10; 5:12-16; 8:9-25; James 5:13-15

Books: The Bible and Healing: A Medical and Theological Commentary, by John Wilkinson (Eerdmans, 1998)

Who Shall Take Care of Our Sick?: Roman Catholic Sisters and the Development of Catholic Hospitals in New York City, by Bernadette McCauley (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2005)

The word breviary comes from the same Latin root as brief. It implies this book is a shorter version of something else: in this case, the Liturgy of the Hours. The complete Liturgy of the Hours is a prayer form that seeks to extend the praise of our Eucharistic celebration through the rest of the hours outside of Mass. This sanctification of time acknowledges that time is a divine aspect of creation just as space (i.e. the world) is.

Sacred times and places are common in world religions. Dawn, noon, sunset, and night are regarded as particular markers when the texture of time is in transition. Think of how your activities shift at these markers: from sleep to wakefulness, work to home environment, productivity to relaxation, and finally from alertness back to sleep. At these junctures, it's good to consecrate ourselves and our window of time to divine safekeeping.

The original prayerbook in the Jewish tradition is the Psalter, or Book of Psalms. Early Christians took this traditional prayer with them into the practice of the church. They found natural correlations between hours of prayer and central gospel events, including resurrection (dawn), crucifixion (noon), and the Lord's supper (evening). Morning and evening prayers were routinely offered by lay members of the church.

During the rise of monasticism, other readings and prayers were added, making the Hours more formal and ritualized. By the medieval period, psalms and antiphons, lectionary readings and books of lessons, observance of the martyrology, plus hymnody, combined to require a library of volumes to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. Needless to say, this made the Hours too ponderous and expensive for the laity to participate, and it became a prayer relegated to clergy and cloister.  

Then came the mendicants, those mobile religious orders like Franciscans and Dominicans. Their itinerant lifestyle necessitated a more portable book of prayer, and the breviary was born. This abbreviated version of the Hours wasn't really restored to the average person, however, until Vatican II called for a more accessible form of the breviary to be created. The single-volume book of Christian Prayer, or even simpler and slimmer Shorter Christian Prayer preserve the flavor of a liturgy adapted to hours, days, and weeks, with seasonal touches and a calendar of saint observances. For those still intimidated by leatherbound books, subscriptions to monthly services like Give Us This Day invite us into the spirit of sanctifying our time both morning and evening.

Scripture: Matt. 5:44; 6:9-13; Luke 11:1-13; 18:1-8; Acts 2:42; 3:1; 20:36; 21:5-6; 1 Thess. 5:16-18; Eph. 6:18

Books: The Everyday Catholic's Guide to the Liturgy of the Hours, by Daria Sockey (Franciscan Media, 2013)

Psalms and Other Songs from a Pierced Heart, by Patricia Stevenson (Liturgical Press, 2019)

A Book of Hours, by Thomas Merton, ed. by Kathleen Deignan (Ave Maria Press, 2007)

Often in the course of spiritual reading, we'll stumble on a quote from someone described as a father of the church. Such a person appears to be an authority whose teaching is unassailable. You begin to wonder: how many of these guys are there, and is there a cut-off moment when names were no longer added to the list?

(You may also wonder if there are church mothers. The short answer is: not officially. But of course there are holy women who were teachers and desert mothers, martyrs, and mystics of renown. Their names and stories are collected in many books, including Martha Ann Kirk's Women of Bible Lands and Mary Forman's Praying with the Desert Mothers.)

The church father designation isn't casual, yet it's assigned more by popular acclaim than definitive assignment. The general idea is that a church father was significant to the formation of Christian doctrine in the early centuries. Intriguingly, qualifications for joining this elite group are otherwise vague. Not all were bishops. Some were questionable in their orthodoxy overall. In the eastern tradition, it's generally assumed that the era of church fathers ends in the 8th century with John Damascene. The western church concludes its list with Gregory the Great (7th c.) or sometimes as late as the Venerable Bede (8th c.). 

In biblical times, someone who provides spiritual instruction for another is esteemed as a father. The prophet Elisha calls his mentor Elijah his father. Paul refers to himself as the father of those Corinthians who came to the faith through his teaching. So it was natural for second-century martyr Polycarp to be regarded as a father to his community, and for early leaders like Irenaeus, Clement, and Origen to utilize the relationship in their writings.

By the 4th century, church writers routinely refer to earlier teachers they cite by this title. Bishops who gathered at early councils like Nicaea, which gave us the Nicene Creed, and Ephesus, where certain heresies were condemned, pretty automatically qualified as fathers. Jesuit Joseph Bianco offers a comprehensive list that includes 5 apostolic fathers of the first century, 13 post-apostolic fathers of the second and third centuries, 56 Golden Age fathers of the fourth to eight centuries (31 writing in Greek, 20 in Latin, 5 in Syriac), and 12 desert fathers stretching from the fourth to the fourteen centuries. Bianco's count provides 86 church fathers to the tradition.

Scriptures: 2 Kings 2:12, 1 Corinthians 4:15

Books: The Fathers on the Sunday Gospels, by Stephen Mark Holmes (Liturgical Press, 2012)

Reading the Early Church Fathers: From the Didache to Nicaea, by James Papandrea (Paulist Press, 2012)

Great minds have struggled to get this right, so it's no wonder you and I have to wrestle awhile with the concept of incarnation. Theologians quite descriptively call it "the scandal of the particular": why would the Eternal choose to be time-bound, the limitless One to assume shape in space? As writer Annie Dillard points out, you and I are up to our necks in this particular scandal. How reassuring that God chooses to be here too. 

Jesus is Emmanuel or God-with-us. In Jesus, God surrenders divine presence into human form in an act of self-emptying called kenosis. This doesn't mean God loses divinity in the moment of incarnation; only that the prerogatives of divinity are freely suspended. 

We see how this works in Jesus' temptation in the desert. Hungry after weeks of fasting, it was possible for him to command stones to become bread. But the divine privileges that would preserve his life are precisely those that would nullify his humanity and render it a farce. Similarly, to be angelically protected from harm, or to exercise control over the nations, were things a God-man certainly could do. Jesus refrains from such indulgences not only in the desert that day, but more significantly in Jerusalem in his final days. Instead of turning stones into bread in Jerusalem, Jesus turns bread into his own self-sacrificing body. Instead of preserving his life and enthroning himself in Jerusalem, he allows his life to be seized and his body to be enthroned on a cross. 

Every way to get this idea wrong has been tried and promoted in history. The Arians declared Jesus a created being inferior to the Father. Docetists taught that the humanity of Jesus was basically a mirage. Adoptionists viewed Jesus as a Spirit-filled person whom God "adopted" as a divine son. The Monophysites insisted Jesus had only one nature after his birth. The Apollinarians imagined Jesus as without a human soul. Nestorians believed Jesus wasn't one person but strangely two: one human, one divine.

Incarnation embraces Jesus as the Eternal Word, the true and everlasting God. It also celebrates that Jesus shares fully and unequivocally in the reality of mortals, knowing family and friendship, weariness, rejection, pain, and death. Jesus is the meeting ground of heaven and earth, the reconciliation of every division. This is a precious understanding not to be compromised.

Scriptures: John 1:1-5, 14-18; 8:52-58; 1 Corinthians 1:21-24; Galatians 4:4-5; Ephesians 5:32; Philippians 2:5-11; Colossians 1:15-20; 2:2-3, 9-10; 1 Timothy 3:16

Website: https://www.thecatholicthing.org/2021/12/27/an-incarnational-world/

Books: Rekindling the Christic Imagination: Theological Meditations for the New Evangelization, by Robert P. Imbelli (Liturgical Press, 2014). On the Incarnation, by Saint Athanasius, with forward by C.S. Lewis (St. Vladimir Seminary Press, 2012).

There's certainly a Catholic way to understand peace. We normally think of peace as a condition of no conflict. Yet the biblical concept of peace, shalom, assures us it's a fullness rather than an absence of something. In fact, shalom could be described as wholeness altogether, including immersion in right relationships. To experience peace, we must get right with God, neighbor, and creation itself. 

That sounds big. It is. But it's also simple. Peace isn't a thing to "have" so much as a "way." To enjoy peace, we travel the road of peace: or "go in peace" as is proclaimed at the end of every Mass. The gospels tell us this Way has a name: Jesus. Isaiah announced him as the Prince of Peace. John the Baptist heralded one who would "guide our feet in the way of peace." Saint Paul tells us plainly that Jesus IS our peace. And Jesus himself offers his friends at the last supper a peace the world cannot give.

How does this work? Consider the gospel story of the woman healed of a hemorrhage. She believes the merest contact with Jesus will end her misery. Which it does. The moment Jesus acknowledges that she's been healed, he invites her to go in peace, to continue in the wholeness she's received. As healthcare specialist Sister Juliana Casey puts it: "Peace appears when God is near." A wonderful wholeness of being is our introduction to shalom. All that's left is to remain in this way, not to lose this precious wholeness.

Does holding onto peace come cheaply? Not to Thomas Aquinas, who insisted harmonious relationships require a soul governed by love. Pope Leo XIII defined peace as rooted in justice and guided by love. Pius XII chose as his motto Opus institiae pax: "Peace is the work of justice." John XXIII expanded this idea beyond the personal to the social order. Only when truth, justice, love, and freedom are universally accessible can there be peace. My favorite phrase arrived courtesy of Pope Paul VI, in noting the struggle of the world's poor: "Development is the new name for peace." Pope John Paul II reframed the quest for peace as "solidarity" with our neighbor, particularly the most marginalized. 

The angels at Bethlehem sang that peace comes "to people of good will." If our minds or hearts are troubled, it may be we're not harboring good will toward all—even if we just withhold our love from a single one.

Scriptures: Isaiah 9:5-6; 48:18; Mark 5:25-34; Matthew 5:9; Luke 1:76-79; 2:14; 8:43-48; John 14:27; 20:19-29; Ephesians 2:13-18

Book: The Gift of Peace: Personal Reflections, Joseph Cardinal Bernardin (Loyola Press, 1997)

The Challenge of Peace: God's Promise and Our Response, NCCB (United States Catholic Conference, 1983)

Synods aren't a new invention in the church. The word means "meeting," and church leaders have always gathered in regions or by country to discuss matters relevant to their territory and times. 

However, the World Synod of Bishops (currently in listening sessions from 2021-2023) is a relatively new animal on the ecclesial scene—a mere half-century old. Pope Paul VI called for its permanent establishment as a consultative body to the papacy in 1965 with the papal letter Apostolica Sollicitudo ("Apostolic Concern"). To say Paul VI invented the idea—as the letterhead Motu Proprio ("on his own initiative") might imply—is misleading. The creation of a Bishops' Synod was mandated by the Decree on the Bishops' Pastoral Office, a Vatican II document produced the same year. As the Decree notes, while the pope has primacy over the Church universal, he shares his authority "by the Holy Spirit" with other "pastors of souls": AKA, bishops worldwide. [Christus Dominus, no.2]

If the bishops sound a bit cranky here, they had reason. Not every pope has been respectful of the collegiality of their office. In fact, the word collegiality is a third rail in Vatican politics. How can one hold "primacy" and share authority in any meaningful way with bishops who are "constituted true and authentic teachers of the faith and have been made pontiffs and pastors" in their own right? [CD, no.2]

The bishops' mandate for a seat at the table of discernment wasn't ambiguous: "Bishops chosen from different parts of the world in a manner and according to a system ... to be determined by the Roman Pontiff will render ... a more effective auxiliary service in a council which shall be known by the special name of Synod of Bishops." [CD, no. 5] The pope is graciously permitted the task of figuring out how it all should work. But establishing the Synod was non-negotiable.

The actual role of a Bishops' Synod remains unclear. Some popes view it as an advisory body and ignore its recommendations. Others take its counsel to heart. What Pope Francis will do with the present "Synod on Synodality" remains to be seen. This two-year process of listening begins at the diocesan and parish levels: a rare inclusion of lay concerns. The Synod is called a gift and a task, a journey and a reflection, to discern where the Church should focus to "live communion, achieve participation, and open Herself to mission" in the third millennium. Will this process lead to more than documents? Let us pray.

Scriptures: Numbers 11:16-17, 24-30; Matthew 18:20; 1 Thessalonians 5:19-24; 1 Timothy 1:5-7; 3:1-7; 2 Timothy 2:14-15, 23-26; 3:16-17; 4:1-5

Website: For a Synodal Church: Communion, Participation, and Mission: https://www.synod.va/en.html

Book: Your Church Wants to Hear from You: The Synod on Synodality, by Michael Sanem (Liturgical Press, 2022)

Good observation! Mary feasts have been with us a long time, and they accumulate through the centuries. They began showing up in the East and the West after the Council of Ephesus (431) formally bestowed the title "God-bearer" (Theotokos) on the mother of Jesus. Not long after, near Bethlehem, the feast of "Mary, Mother of God" was celebrated on August 15—the day we now honor her Assumption. The first day of the year became a Marian feast in sixth-century Rome, while December 26 was Mary's day in Byzantine circles. Churches of Spain remembered Mary on December 18, a week before the Nativity.

By the seventh century, Mary's birthday (September 8—not a historical date but a remembrance), her childhood presentation in the temple (November 21), and the Annunciation (March 25—nine months before Christmas) spread from local Jerusalem observances to the Byzantine church and Rome. At present we commemorate 15 Mary days on the universal Roman calendar. 

Four of these celebrations are solemnities, the highest rank of any day in the liturgical year: Mary, Mother of God (Jan. 1), Annunciation (Mar. 25), Assumption (Aug. 15), and Immaculate Conception (Dec. 8). Three are feasts: Presentation of the Lord (Feb. 2), Visitation (May 31), and Birth of Mary (Sept. 8). Four are memorials, a simpler form of remembrance: Queenship of Mary (Aug. 22), Our Lady of Sorrows (Sept. 15), Our Lady of the Rosary (Oct. 7), and Presentation of Mary (Nov. 21). And four are optional memorials: Our Lady of Lourdes (Feb. 11), Immaculate Heart of Mary (a movable feast falling on the second Saturday after Pentecost), Our Lady of Mt. Carmel (July 16), and Dedication of St. Mary Major Basilica (Aug. 5). The U.S. bishops added a memorial for Our Lady of Guadalupe on December 12, bringing the national total to 16 Marian days.

Why so much attention on Mary? We view Mary as mother of the Church as well as Mother of God. She demonstrates how a disciple of Jesus is to act. (Not all disciples were a good act to follow.) Also, Mary has a unique access ("mediation") to her son that believers make good use of. 

In my home I display Marian images from all over the world, traditional and modern, reverential and whimsical. Even folks who don't know who Mary is are captivated by at least one of them. So it is with Mary days. There's one that resonates with everyone.

Scriptures: Luke 1:26-56; 2:1-52; John 2:1-12; 19:25-27; Acts 1:13-14

Books: Sing of Mary: Giving Voice to Marian Theology and Devotion, by Stephanie Budwey (Liturgical Press, 2014)

Blessed Art Thou: Mother, Lady, Mystic, Queen, by Michael O'Neill McGrath and Richard Fragomeni (World Library Publications, 2004)

In the 20th century, Pope Pius XII appointed a commission to abolish some octaves, vigils, and duplicate feasts to simplify the church calendar. Depending on how dates fell, celebrations overlapped and became confusing to pastor and people: what exactly ought we to be observing?

It seemed prudent to focus the assembly's attention on significant mysteries, rather than scattering their contemplation every which way. In church history, "calendrical clog" was periodically eliminated, so Pope Pius wasn't acting uniquely in his decision. This led to the renewed rubrics in the Roman Breviary and Missal of 1955. Five years later, additional changes were made by his still-operating commission under Pope John XXIII. 

Celebrating major feasts as octaves was an ancient Jewish practice. Three octaves are retained on the church calendar—Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost—as one day is hardly enough to consider the mysteries of Incarnation, Redemption, and the in-Spiriting of the church. Discontinued octaves include those for the feasts of John the Baptist, Peter & Paul, Stephen the first martyr, John the Evangelist, Ascension, Corpus Christi, Epiphany, and the Sacred Heart.

Vigils were embraced by the early church as an opportunity to pray all night on special feasts. Easter, Pentecost, Ascension, Assumption, John the Baptist, Peter and Paul, and Lawrence the deacon retain their vigils—though it's the rare Catholic who keeps vigil all night these days. Vigils are suppressed for Immaculate Conception, All Saints, and Epiphany. You're still welcome to pray all night on any feast you like.

The removal of some saints from the General Roman Calendar has been lamented as "the sanctoral killing fields." Over 300 saints, plus their typically unnamed companions, were removed from the calendar in the renewals. This list famously includes the popular Mr. Christopher, but also the Forty Martyrs of Sebaste and the Seven Maccabee Martyrs. Many deleted feasts were duplicate names on the calendar, such as observances for Agnes and Francis of Assisi. Of the more than ten thousand saints in the canon, some are certainly variant names used in different locales: i.e.  Vlash in Albania is Blaise elsewhere. 

It also bears noting that Pope John Paul II doubled the number of canonized saints in a single papacy. Making a little room for these contemporary saints who have much to teach us about how to embrace holy living in circumstances more familiar to us is a good thing.

Scripture: Matthew 11:28-30; 23:4; Luke 11:46

Books: Liturgy: Sacrosanctum Concilium - Rita Ferrone (Paulist Press, 2007)

Cum hac nostra aetate (With Our Age). On "Reducing the rubrics to a simpler form" - Pope Pius XII, find at https://divinumofficium.com/www/horas/Help/Rubrics/1955.txt  

The first James is identified as the brother of John and son of Zebedee. James and John encounter Jesus at the shore of Galilee while they're in a boat mending nets with Zebedee. Jesus has already recruited brothers Simon (Peter) and Andrew who were similarly employed. Likewise, James and John leave family, home, and occupation behind the moment Jesus calls to them. Perhaps because of their boisterous natures, Jesus nicknames them Boanerges, "sons of thunder." James is always mentioned before John, which makes him the eldest or simply more celebrated brother: he's sometimes called James the Great. Along with Peter, these brothers form the inner circle of Jesus' followers. James was the second of the original Twelve to die (after the suicide of Judas), a martyr between 42-44 A.D.

Also on the list of apostles is James the son of Alphaeus. We don't know how he enters the story, his occupation or origins. He has no speaking part in the gospels. No wonder he's called James the Less—though this may be a reference to his age. His mother Mary was present at the crucifixion.

Another gospel list claims a James: that of Jesus' brothers. Unnamed sisters are sometimes noted, but all four gospels mention Jesus had brothers. Blood ties were tight in ancient times; the precise kinship may have been cousins or siblings. Attempts to clarify these relationships are unsatisfying. Belief in Mary's perpetual virginity weighs heavily in Catholic conversations on the matter. Some view these siblings as Joseph's children from a previous marriage. 

This third James—AKA James the Just—is significant in the early church. While the gospels repeatedly emphasize how the relatives of Jesus mistrusted the direction of his ministry, Paul notes that after the resurrection, James had a private revelation of Jesus. This cured his doubts and enfolded him into the church. His lineage may have catapulted him into leadership in the Jerusalem community, becoming a power triangle with career disciples Peter and John. Brother James could have written some kernel of the Letter of James in the New Testament. However, James the Just was martyred in 62 or 69 AD; the final form of the letter likely took shape later.

Mark 1:16-20; 3:13-19; 31-35; 6:1-6; 15:40; Matthew 4:21-22; 10:1-4; 12:46-50; 13:55-58; 27:56; Luke 6:12-16; 8:19-21; 24:10; John 7:3-5; Acts 1:13; 12:17; 15:13-21; 21:18; 1 Corinthians 15:7; Galatians 1:19; 2:11-12; James 1:1

Books: James of Jerusalem: Heir to Jesus of Nazareth, by Patrick Hartin (Liturgical Press, 2004)

What Are They Saying About the Letter of James?, by Alicia Batten (Paulist Press, 2009)

Known as the Stabat Mater Dolorosa ("The Sorrowful Mother Stood"), this medieval hymn is referenced as early as 1388. It was utilized as a liturgical sequence at Mass until the Council of Trent (1545-1563) suppressed this usage along with hundreds of other sequences. It returned to the Roman Missal in 1727 and was recommended for the Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows on September 15. Most of us know it because it's widely sung during the Stations of the Cross. Yet its authorship is uncertain.

Among those proposed as the composer of the Stabat Mater was Saint Bonaventure (1221-1274), a doctor of the church. Since the Stations of the Cross were a Franciscan invention [see article "Where do the Stations of the Cross come from?"], it seemed plausible that an eloquent Franciscan might be its author. Pope Innocent III, who gave authorization to Francis of Assisi to begin his order, was also proposed as the writer, with less evidence. One of the Popes Gregory (just which one remains unspecified) and Pope John XXII have likewise been asserted by various period writers as composers of Stabat Mater. These speculations are no better than hearsay.

The most popular contestant was Jacopone da Todi (ca. 1230-1306), a Franciscan brother. Jacopone joined the Franciscans after the sudden loss of his wife in an accident. He was a poet and dramatist known for the composition of many laudi—religious songs and poems—as well as theatrical presentations of the gospel. 

Unhappily, Jacopone got swept up in a Franciscan controversy. After the death of Francis, many of his order were keen to relax the rule of absolute poverty. As Franciscans became more involved in apostolic work, some preferred to follow other religious orders in the acquisition of land and housing. A "Spirituals" faction, meanwhile, were repulsed by what they viewed as a sell-out of their ideal. The Spirituals broke from the order, and were excommunicated by Pope John XXII (a competitor with Jacopone as the source of Stabat Mater). Jacopone was imprisoned for writing poems criticizing his opponents—including the pope. A later pope freed him, and the Franciscans reclaimed Jacopone's body after death. These days Jacopone hovers near sainthood. But his penning of the Stabat Mater was thrown into question when a predated copy was found in the prayerbook of some 13th-century Dominican nuns.

Whoever wrote it, the Stabat Mater has enjoyed more than 60 English translations. It's been set to music more than 50 times, including by Vivaldi, Haydn, Schubert, Liszt, Dvoršák, and Verdi—and most recently, by James MacMillan in 2015. 

Scriptures: Luke 2:33-35; John 19:25-27

Book: Stabat Mater: The Mystery Hymn, by Desmond Fisher (Gracewing Publishing, 2015)

E-Resource: The Ultimate Stabat Mater Website - It compares multiple translations of the ancient hymn line by line.  

Altogether, 21 ecumenical councils are recognized by the church. These gatherings have moved the church forward in an evolution of self-understanding that is by no means complete today.

Only two are known as Vatican Councils because the rest were held elsewhere than the Vatican Basilica in Rome. Five gathered in the Lateran Basilica, also in Rome. Four convened in Constantinople. Two took place in Nicaea, and two in Lyons. The longest and certainly one of the most fateful councils was held in Trent. Other locations include Ephesus, Chalcedon, Vienne, and Constance. One curious council is known by the names of four cities it migrated through: Basel-Ferrara-Florence-Rome. 

And of course, though it doesn't make the official count, a very significant council was called in Jerusalem by Peter, James, and John not long after the time of Jesus. It was there that Paul was granted special permission to bring non-Jews into the church without circumcising them first.

What did the rest of the councils decide? The first seven (from 325 to 787) condemned a lot of divergent theologies: Arianism, Apollinarianism, Nestorianism, Monophysitism, the Three Chapters of Theodore of Mopsuestia, Monothelitism, and iconoclasm. These teachings mostly involved divergences in the way Jesus is perceived: whether in relationship to God, or to his own humanity or divinity. The last one, iconoclasm, was a movement to destroy icons used in veneration. Those of us who love our holy images might be grateful that one got condemned.

The eighth council, the fourth held in Constantinople (869-70), broke the church apart into East (Constantinople) and West (Rome). The Eastern Church doesn't recognize any of the councils that followed. After that, the council agendas become largely, well, churchy: determining relationships between popes and kings, dealing with the phenomenon of anti-popes, reining in misbehaving clergy, ruling on how popes should be elected. 

The very important Fourth Lateran Council (1215) defined Eucharistic transubstantiation and ruled that Catholics should go to confession annually. It also made the infamous decision to require Jews and Muslims to wear distinctive dress. Several later councils attempted to bring the Eastern and Western halves of the church back together again—without success. The Council of Trent (1545-63, with several interruptions) dealt with the significant challenges of the Protestant Reformation. Vatican I (1869-70) declared papal infallibility. Which brings us to the still-recent reforms of Vatican II (1962-65), with its agenda opening onto an engagement with the broader world. Which makes you ask: what should the next church council do?

Scripture: Matthew 18:20; Acts 15:1-35

Books: The Ecumenical Councils of the Catholic Church: A History, by Joseph F. Kelly (Michael Glazier, 2009)

21 Ecumenical Councils that Shaped Catholic History and Beliefs (Audiobook), by John W. O'Malley (Now You Know Media/Learn 25, 2017)

Reading them would be tough—unless you know Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek. The story of the scrolls isn't complete even now, more than 70 years after the first collection was discovered by a Bedouin boy in search of a lost sheep in 1947. As recently as March 2021, archeologists announced new findings in yet another cave, including fragments from some books of prophecy. Who knows what else lies undiscovered in the Judean desert, with its excellent conditions for preserving ancient artifacts?

The Dead Sea Scrolls raise more questions than they supply definitive answers. To the disappointment of many, the scrolls aren't a smoking gun linking the Qumran community (which consigned these writings to their caves) with Jesus, John the Baptist, or Christianity. No New Testament texts appear among the thousands of fragments so far unearthed. Yet every Jewish biblical book except Esther is logged among the findings. The original 11 caves, uncovered between 1947 and 1956, contained some 900 distinct manuscripts, most of them extra-biblical. 

What we learned from Cave 1, which seems to have been a deliberate library for the community, is that a great deal of attention at Qumran focused on the present and the future, not just the past. The rules by which this community—presumed by most scholars to be the Essenes—would live was a paramount concern.  The Essenes were among three significant subgroups within Judaism between 150 BC and 68 AD, when Roman soldiers destroyed Qumran. Unlike the Sadducees, who ran the Temple and cooperated with the Roman occupiers, the Essenes withdrew from Jerusalem and rejected the legitimacy of the Temple leaders. Rather than participating in the customary ritual sacrifices, the Essenes anticipated the rabbinic movement to come which would replace Temple worship with study of the Law of Moses. 

Like the third movement of the period, that of the Pharisees, the Essenes were dedicated to religious purity. Young men found their zeal and idealism attractive, and would enter the community for a time. However, a longstanding practice of celibacy deterred some from remaining. A study of gravesites around Qumran revealed that the community relaxed the celibacy requirement at a later date. A more recent gravesite included women and children buried separately, at a discreet distance, from the men.   

The scrolls provide evidence to the complexity of religious ideas circulating in the generations around Jesus. Judaism was fractured. The interpretation of sacred texts was seriously debated. Jesus wasn't the only teacher of his time calling for a reexamination of what Pilate once wondered: What is truth?

Scriptures: Matthew 24:3-14; 1 Timothy 1:3-11; 4:1-16; 6:3-6; 2 Timothy 2:14-26; 3:10-17

Books: The Impact of the Dead Sea Scrolls, by Joseph Fitzmyer, S.J. (Paulist Press, 2020)

The Meaning of the Dead Sea Scrolls: Their Significance for Understanding the Bible, Judaism, Jesus, and Christianity, by James VanderKam, Peter Flint (HarperOne, 2004)

Taizé is an ecumenical movement founded in 1952 by Swiss-born Roger Schütz-Marsauche to recover the fruits of monasticism for Protestants and to promote unity among Christians. Does it have the blessing of the Roman Catholic Church? Most surely, and then some. Taizé’s most recent annual meeting, held virtually, received messages of support from Pope Francis, the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, and the Patriarchate of Moscow. In addition, the Archbishop of Canterbury, representatives of the leadership of the World Council of Churches, the World Lutheran Federation, and other communions reaffirmed their support.

Why does Taizé enjoy such universal approval? The integrity of its founder certainly plays a large role. Brother Roger, as he was known, was the son of a Protestant minister and Huguenot mother. As a Presbyterian, Roger studied theology until contracting tuberculosis. During his convalescence, he became fascinated by monastic life. Yet his conscience was burdened by the horrors of war. In 1940, along with his sister Genevieve, he bought a property in Taizé, France, to shelter Jews and Christians persecuted by the Nazis. When the Gestapo learned of their efforts, they moved to Geneva. There, Roger joined an ecumenical community and became committed to the path of reconciliation.

After the war, Roger returned to Taizé to establish a quasi-monastic community open to all Christians. The Church of the Reconciliation, with its simple music and un-dogmatic ritual, attracted thousands of pilgrims weekly—and still does. Brother Roger urged young people to trust in God, remain connected to their local churches and to the common good of humanity. Taizé gatherings can be found in Africa, North and South America, Asia, and across Europe.

Brother Roger’s relationship to Catholicism is the source of much interest. A friend of Mother Teresa, he was known to attend daily Mass since 1972, receiving Eucharist from bishops and even two popes: John Paul II and Benedict XVI. It was rumored he’d become a Catholic, but in 1980 Brother Roger clarified: “I have found my own identity as a Christian by reconciling within myself the faith of my origins with the mystery of the Catholic faith, without breaking fellowship with anyone.” In 2005 at the age of 90, Brother Roger was murdered by a mentally ill woman during a Taizé service. A Catholic cardinal presided at his funeral.

Scripture: John 17:20-26; 1 Corinthians 12:12-31; Ephesians 4:1-6, 15-16 

Website: https://www.taize.fr/en 

Books: Brother Roger of Taizé: Essential Writings (Orbis Books,2006)

A Community Called Taizé: A Story of Prayer, Worship, and Reconciliation, by Jason Brian Santos (Inter-Varsity Press, 2008)

Yes! But you might not know it from the amount of airtime they get in most biblical surveys. Many people are surprised to learn that at least 333 women appear in Scripture. I say at least, since sometimes we’re just told women are present; not who they are or how many they are.

Journalist Edith Deen made a fascinating study of these women in categories that are themselves illuminating as to the roles women play in our sacred story. First she considers the main female actors of Genesis: Eve, of course; but also wives, mothers, and sisters of the patriarchs. Next, Deen studies significant women in the time of Moses and the Judges. Then come bold women of the era of Kings, including a few shrewd Queens. Finally she turns her attention to resourceful women around Jesus and in the early church. In each survey section, both heroes and villains are featured.

While these portraits of the better-known players are interesting, what may be more intriguing is Deen’s alphabetical index of every named woman in Scripture: all 279, from Abi to Zipporah, offered with a helpful citation plus a quick description of their significance. This is followed by a chronicle of unnamed women: 40 daughters, 28 wives, 20 mothers, 8 widows, and 44 others known essentially by their relationships to men. 

This total of 333 stories in which a woman or group of women influences salvation history is both delightful and maddening. We’re delighted women feature relentlessly in the record. It’s also disturbing that so many of these stories are unfamiliar to us. They’re rarely proclaimed at Mass or taught in religious education. Ask the average churchgoer to list as many biblical women as they can. I’ve encountered many who draw a blank after Eve, Mary, and Mary Magdalene.

Because so many women in the biblical record—indeed, in the historical records of any civilization—are unnamed, we may need prodding to recall the Medium of Endor, the Wise Woman of Tekoa, and the Virtuous Wife of Proverbs. It takes a little jogging to consider those featured in parables like the Ten Wise and Foolish Bridesmaids, or the Woman with the Lost Coin. It’s a start, at least, to realize that there are 333 stories about women. But it’s more important to expand our personal list, so we recognize more than a handful of them.

Scripture: 1 Samuel 28:4-25; 2 Samuel 14:1-20; Proverbs 31:10-31; Matthew 25:1-13; Luke 15:8-10

Books: All of the Women of the Bible, by Edith Deen (HarperOne, 1988)

Women in the Old Testament, by Irene Nowell, OSB (Liturgical Press, 1997)

Women in the New Testament, by Mary Ann Getty-Sullivan (Liturgical Press, 2001)

It’s a real boon to the lay church that we have the whole Cana movement. Before the Second Vatican Council, the notion of having a vocation to marriage was not well developed. Although great preparation surrounded the choice for vowed religious life or priesthood, virtually no formation was undergone for the Sacrament of Marriage. When a Jesuit priest John P. Delaney gave a retreat for married couples in New York in 1943, the concept was novel enough for a write-up in America magazine. 

This gave some Catholics in St. Louis the desire to try something similar, asking Jesuit Edward Dowling to create a program for them. Dowling’s retreat in 1944 was first called a Cana Conference—a reference to the wedding feast in John’s gospel at which Jesus performs his first miracle. These retreats quickly took on the aspect of a movement, became formalized into a program in Chicago under diocesan priest and justice activist John Egan. Egan also promoted Pre-Cana Conferences for engaged couples preparing for marriage.

What made these conferences unusual is that they didn’t stick to the narrow lane of an average retreat: all spiritual talk with little practical application. The Cana approach was to discuss real marital situations in the context of a life of faith. The atmosphere was relaxed and friendly, unlike the severe lecture style of most retreats of the period. Laypeople appreciated attention being paid to the all-important vocations of marriage, child-rearing, and community-building by their church. Before long, the Cana movement went nationwide, and diocesan offices to promote the ministry were assembled.

The success of Cana and Pre-Cana led to experiments with the format for other formerly unrecognized groups in the church. Those who’d lost a spouse could attend Naim Conferences: so-called after the story of the widowed woman of Naim who elicits the compassion of Jesus in Luke’s gospel.  Bethany Conferences, named for the presumably unmarried biblical siblings Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, were developed for single Catholics. These programs were all popular in the 1950s and 60s, but the Pre-Cana movement alone left an endurable mark on marriage formation preparation in the United States. Engaged Encounter, Marriage Encounter, and Second Marriage Preparation programs today owe some debt to Cana for focusing pastoral attention on the needs of families to be prepared for their great and singular work in the church and society.

Scripture: Cana John 2:1-11; Naim Luke 7: 11-17; Bethany Luke 10:38-42; John 11:1-44; 12:1-8

Books: The Cana Movement in the United States, by A. H. Clemens (Catholic University, 1953)

The Mission of Love: A Sacramental Journey to Marital Success, by John Curtis, Michael Day, et.al. (Dominican New Priory Press, 2018)

Like many liturgical practices, candle lighting began as a practical activity. It was how people turned the lights on before electricity. Early Christians illuminated the catacombs with candles. (In the same way, the lavabo—the ritual washing of the priest’s hands at the altar—was a pragmatic way to remove the residue of the people’s offering, which arrived in the sanctuary not as a basket of sanitary envelopes but as livestock and foodstuffs.)

Candles also had symbolic significance. They were placed on martyr’s graves or near saints’ images to testify that the light these holy ones bear still shines in eternity. A perpetual light at the altar acknowledges the constancy of the Real Presence. A light similarly burns near the Book of the Gospels. Votive lights at a shrine represent the prolongation of our prayer before God.

After electricity became standard, candlelight remained a fixture in both liturgy and devotions. The premiere candle in any church is also the largest: the paschal candle, blessed and lit from the new fire each year at the Easter Vigil. The paschal candle represents the light of Christ illuminating the hearts of the faithful. Five grains of incense embedded in the wax recall the wounds of Christ. As the deacon or priest carries the light forward in procession, the phrase “Light of Christ” is chanted three times, with the assembly’s reply: “Thanks be to God.” Individual candles dispersed through the assembly are lit from the paschal candle so testify that all share in the divine light.

The paschal candle is plunged into the baptismal font to bless the waters used for baptisms. Fire and water unite in this sign, reminding us of other Kingdom paradoxes: the last will be first, the poor will be blessed, and the dead will rise. At the celebration of every baptism, a candle is given to each baptismal candidate to acknowledge the light of Christ within them.

Advent, the season of light, is counted down with the violet- and rose-colored candles of the Advent wreath. Another liturgy in which candles hold a special place is the Presentation of the Lord, also called Candlemas (February 2nd). Candles were blessed on this feast which recalls the day the infant Jesus, the light of the world, was brought to the temple. This feast, honored since the 4th century, historically ended the Christmas cycle. On the following day, the memorial of St. Blaise, unlit candles are used to bless the throat and intercede for healing.

Scriptures: Genesis 1:3-5; Isaiah 9:1; Matthew 5:14-16; John 1:3-9; 3:19-21; 8:12; 9:5; 12:35-36; Ephesians 5:8-14; 1 Thessalonians 5:5; 1 John 1:5-7

Books: From the Beginning to Baptism: Scientific and Sacred Stories of Water, Oil, and Fire, by Linda Gilber, O.P. (Liturgical Press, 2010)

Signs and Symbols of the Liturgy: An Experience of Ritual and Catechesis, by Michael Ruzicki, et. al. (Liturgy Training Publications, 2018)

It’s the power of the keys. Jesus hands to Peter “the keys of the kingdom”: a commission to “bind and loose” on earth what will be, in mirror fashion, bound and loosed in heaven. This language recalls the authority of Jewish scribes who interpret the Law of Moses. Peter, and by extension his successors on the Chair of Peter, have the power to interpret what flies and what doesn’t in church teaching.

The territory of this authority is subject to ongoing definition. The First Vatican Council (1869-70)—see essay: "What happened at Vatican I?"— determined that the holder of the keys speaks infallibly in definitive teachings on matters of faith and morals. To some, this sounded like an expansion of the papal footprint. To others, it merely made explicit what had been implicit in Jesus’ commission. 

The footprint seemed to shrink a little when Pope John Paul II insisted in an apostolic letter that "the Church has no authority whatsoever to confer priestly ordination on women.” (Ordinatio sacerdotalis, May 1994) Apparently there are some doors these keys cannot open. Some argue the teachings of Jesus are not subject to reinterpretation even by the key holder. Others point out that while Jesus initially chose twelve men to follow him, no teaching restricts the binding and loosing authority to males.

The Latin word from which authority emerges (auctoritas) means to grow or produce. One in authority governs communal growth and direction by persuading or dictating thought, opinion, and action. This invests a leader with great social power, not only over ideas and behaviors but also with the power of decision. The decider, it’s been said, gets to decide.

The Church acknowledges God as the source of all earthly authority. Jesus reminds Pontius Pilate of this during his trial: “You would have no power over me if it had not been given to you from above.” In turn, God subjects all worldly dominion to Christ Jesus, putting everything at his feet. Human beings, as Pilate is warned, participate in this authority by faithfully serving God’s will alone. Peter makes this point to the Sanhedrin: “Obedience to God comes before obedience to men.” 

In addition, church authority can be delegated, and is most certainly shared by the Spirit’s own choosing. Paul’s delineation of gifts—apostle, prophet, teacher, leader—conveys the bounty of authority bestowed on the church. Finally, all church authority imitates the service demonstrated by Jesus at the Last Supper, humbly washing the feet of others. 

Scriptures: Matthew 9:8; 16:17-19; John 13:13-17; 19:10-11; 20:22-23; Acts of the Apostles 4:19; 5:28-32; Romans 12:3-8; 1 Corinthians 12:1-31; 15:25-28; Philippians 2:5-11

Books: By What Authority? Foundations for Understanding Authority in the Church. Rev. Ed., Richard Gaillardetz (Liturgical Press, 2018)

Struggles for Power in Early Christianity: A Study of the First Letter to Timothy, Elsa Tamez (Orbis Books, 2007)

The numbering makes it sound like popes have convened only two councils in the church’s history. Actually, Vatican I was the 20th. Councils are named according to their location. In December of 1869, Vatican I was the first council at St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. It was interrupted by war in September 1870 and never completed.

Pope Pius IX viewed the Council originally as “a remedy for present evils in Church and society” (Aeterni Patris). A few years earlier, he had published a Syllabus of Errors condemning pantheism, rationalism, indifferentism (the belief that any religion can lead to God), socialism, communism, secret societies, liberalism; as well as errors concerning the nature of the church, society, ethics, marriage, and papal authority. The pope hoped a council would offer solemn endorsement of his condemnations.

Over 50 draft documents were made, but only six were debated, and two adopted. The first adopted article is rarely mentioned, a theological treatise on faith and reason. The second is more familiar: the formal defining of papal infallibility. 

Papal infallibility was presumed by many Catholics and wouldn’t have been debated by most. The Ultramontane (“beyond the mountains”) movement described those who held that a strong papacy was the only defense against liberal ideas launched by politics, science, and philosophy. Most bishops supported strong papal authority but disagreed on its reach. Some theologians, among them British convert William George Ward, felt every pronouncement of the pope ought to be infallible. Many bishops insisted infallibility belonged to the church, not just to the pope; or that the pope enjoyed infallibility in certain situations but not all; or that infallibility was contingent on the pope speaking in harmony with past church teaching and his fellow bishops. Some leaders—including John Henry Newman of England, Archbishop Martin Spalding of Baltimore, and Archbishop Peter Richard Kenrick of St. Louis—believed defining infallibility was a mistake, obviously undone by examples from history. 

Oppositional factions grew among German, English, and French bishops. Dozens left the Council in protest before the final vote. Of the original 774 participants, only 433 were present to vote in favor of infallibility. Two bishops voted against the teaching, including an Italian and Bishop Edward Fitzgerald of Little Rock, Arkansas. Only two German church leaders refused to accept the teaching once it was passed. Both were excommunicated.

Books: Revered and Reviled: A Reexamination of Vatican Council I, John R. Quinn (Crossroad Publishing Co, 2017)

Vatican I: The Council and the Making of the Ultramontane Church, John W. O’Malley, SJ (Belknap Press/Harvard University Press, 2018)

In periods of social upheaval, the church has always been there for those who seek her. The idea of sanctuary is rooted in the idea that sacred spaces are universal safe houses for those in trouble. They’re also havens for sinners, the poor, and seekers of divine Presence. For these reasons, a Catholic church is consecrated territory, generally open to all comers and a welcome refuge in difficult times especially.

The church building as place of refuge and safety is contradicted in times of contagious disease, however. Where contagion is present, gathering is a dangerous thing to do. Not just for the individual, but for society altogether. This wasn’t understood in the Middle Ages during the era of plague, nor even in more recent centuries when waves of yellow fever or leprosy spread through port cities. While germ theory was proposed as early as the 11th century, and reintroduced periodically, it was largely dismissed until 1850 when Louis Pasteur did his research. Viruses were discovered in the 1890s. This better understanding of how disease spreads gives us many new tools with which to contain and defeat it.

The church isn’t exempt from the science of a pandemic. We exercise charity in acknowledging that, while Catholics are spiritually hardwired to seek the sacraments, especially in anxious times, what serves the common good is to consider the welfare of the whole community. Yes, I want access to sacraments; and I want the support of the community in faith. But there are other ways to do this besides gathering in a church building in these weeks when special caution benefits the world that God so loves.

Charity recommends we do what the saints did: enjoy “spiritual communion” until we have the privilege of the real thing. Mother Francis Cabrini took 37 sea voyages back and forth across the Atlantic during her missionary years. During those voyages, she and her sisters were without Mass or the sacraments for weeks or even months. She wrote often about this deprivation: “We believed we would arrive in time to celebrate the Feast of the Patronage of Saint Joseph; instead we have to spend it at sea, without Mass, without Communion…. Meanwhile, the view continually before our eyes, the work of the One whom we so much desire to receive into the small sanctuary of our souls, serves as preparation for a worthy Communion.”

Perhaps this time of austere fasting from even the consolation of the sacraments will prepare us for a more worthy communion soon.

Scripture: Matthew 10:27-32; 12:1-8; John 14:1-6; 15:1-5; 17:1-19

Books: To the Ends of the Earth: The Missionary Travels, by Francis X. Cabrini (Center for Migration Studies, 2001)

The Eucharist and the Hunger of the World, by Monika Hellwig (Sheed & Ward, 1992)

You see them in art, though you may not know their names. The Helpers were a collection of saints from antiquity popularly invoked in 14th century Germany. These individuals weren’t linked by history or geography; like, say, Saint Charles Lwanga and companions, martyred together in Uganda. The Holy Helpers became an established set during the Black Plague epidemic of Europe—since, presumably, the more intercessors you have against plague, the better.

Alphabetically, the Fourteen Holy Helpers are: Achatius, Barbara, Blaise, Catherine of Alexandria, Christopher, Cyriacus, Denis, Erasmus, Eustachius, George, Giles, Margaret of Antioch, Pantaleone, and Vitus. Only half the saints on this list are passably familiar today.

The symptoms of plague influenced the selections for this club. A plague victim could expect the following: blackened tongue, parched throat, violent headache, fever, and boils on the abdomen. Victims became delusional and died within hours. The furious onset of plague made it unlikely the afflicted would have final sacraments. Just another reason to have the Holy Helpers in your corner.

The chaos that plague evoked was comprehensive. Animals died, whole towns perished, the social order collapsed. So why not invoke Saint Blaise, still acclaimed for his work on ills of the throat; or Saints Achatius and Denis, both patrons of headache sufferers? Saint George protected domestic animals, and Saint Erasmus guarded abdominal health. Saint Eustachius was good for family trouble, and Saint Giles the go-to guy for plague and a good confession. Saints Barbara, Catherine, and Christopher were patrons in instances of sudden death. In addition Christopher, the traveler’s saint, also warded off plague. 

Just for good measure, Saint Pantaleone protected physicians, and Saint Margaret promised safe childbirth. Since Saint Vitus is the patron of epileptics, it appears plague victims’ eventual irrationality was lumped in with the symptoms of another disorder poorly understood. The most curious name on the Helpers list is Cyriacus, invoked against temptation. In times of epidemic, looting was rampant and desertion by family members common. One might well be tempted under such conditions.

While the Fourteen Holy Helpers still have a following in Europe, only one parish in the United States is named for their contribution today. We might wonder: if we were to choose a pack of saints as guardians for our times, who would those helpers be?

Scriptures: Psalm 27; Romans 8:18-27; Hebrews 5:7; 7:25; Ephesians 6:18; James 5:13-18

Books: The Fourteen Holy Helpers, by Bonaventure Hammer, OFM (TAN Books, 2009)

Fearless: Stories of the American Saints, by Paul Boudreau and Alice Camille (Franciscan Media, 2014)

Christianity existed well before the present parish system. Before there was a church building on the corner—with its Mass schedule, programs, pastor, and support staff—the followers of Jesus still managed to preach the gospel and share Eucharist. So technically, the answer is no: the parish structure as we know it is not essential. But if by parish you mean a defined and stable community that assembles for worship and embraces a certain responsibility for one another, the answer is yes: such a community is vital to the fabric of Christian life. 

It’s helpful to distinguish Christian faith from an individual spiritual practice. The goal of Christianity isn’t personal enlightenment, getting your act together, or building a satisfying moral ethos. From the beginning, Jesus chose to gather a community of disciples to live with him, share resources in common, and learn his teachings. There was never a time when Christian life was envisioned as a set of principles to live by that could be adopted and practiced on your own terms. From the first generation of the church, believers met in each other’s homes, prayed together, and shared what they had with those in need.

The gospel teaches how to live responsively with others. Loving our neighbors and enemies too, forgiving offenses, welcoming strangers, caring for the unfortunate—we engage these actions in service of others. Our faith is proven out by how we treat others. “Faith without works is dead,” says the Letter of James. Onlookers of the early community could rightfully say: “See how these Christians love one another.” No one was ever quoted as saying: “See how these Christians go to church.” While the gathering was essential to becoming the Body of Christ, registering for membership and weekly envelopes wasn’t the point.

The pre-parish house churches were more intimate, and perhaps more attractive, than today’s sprawling parishes which can feel alienating especially to newcomers. Meeting in homes was also necessary for a community that was vaguely suspect—and that dove into the catacombs when later judged to be outright criminal. Public worship, in buildings established for this purpose, was the gift (and in some ways the curse) of Christianity’s legality under Emperor Constantine in the 4th century. As the nature of community in our media age is transformed, how we are church tomorrow will doubtless evolve too.

Scriptures: Matthew 4:18-22; 25:31-45; 26:26-28; Luke 24:13-35; John 15:11-17; 18:20-26; Acts 2:42-47; 4:32-35; 1 Corinthians 12:1—13:13; Ephesians 3:14-22; 4:1-16; James 2:14-18; 1 Peter 2:4-5

Books: We Are All One: Unity, Community and Commitment to Each Other, by Joan Chittister, O.S.B. (Twenty-Third Publications, 2018)

A New Way to Be Church: Parish Renewal from the Outside In, by Jack Jezreel (Orbis Books, 2018)

The Easter duty has seen some flux in church tradition. The Eucharistic Precept, as it’s formally called in the list of Church Precepts, was conceived in the 6th century as a way to ensure that the Sacrament of Holy Communion wouldn’t be neglected by the faithful. Early church councils enforced regional versions of the precept, which in one form mandated receiving communion three times annually: at Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost.

The Fourth Lateran Council (1215) reduced the mandate to once annually at Easter time, widening its application to the whole church. The Council of Trent and the Code of Canon Law restated this obligation. Ironically, the attempt to safeguard reception of the Eucharist by insisting on minimal participation had the opposite effect. Clergy preached on the evils of taking communion in a sinful state a little too effectively. Churchgoers developed a fear of receiving the Eucharist “unworthily.” Many were convinced they could never be in the proper state of grace to merit the privilege. Add to that the phenomenon of what we might call “mortal-sin creep”: in the hands of a number of confessors, venial sins got an automatic upgrade to fatal status.

It wasn’t until the 20th-century arrival of Pope Pius X, “the pope of frequent communion,” that Catholics returned to the sacrament more regularly. The Easter duty is again viewed properly as a minimal requirement rather than a recommendation.

What hasn’t always been clear in the Easter duty is the definition of Easter. Technically Easter is not a day on the church calendar so much as an Octave (eight-days-long feast) contained within a seven-week celebration. The latest Code of Canon Law (1983) defines the fulfillment of the Easter duty to the time from Palm Sunday to Pentecost Sunday. This period, from Holy Week through the Easter Season, offers an eight-week window to meet the obligation.

However, in the United States, the Eucharistic Precept can be fulfilled from the First Sunday of Lent until Trinity Sunday. Lent adds an additional five weeks; the time from Pentecost to Trinity Sunday, another week. Altogether, this opens 14 weeks of the church year to fulfillment of the Easter duty.

Many Catholics are under the impression that the Easter duty also requires going to Confession. While receiving the Sacrament of Reconciliation annually is certainly a good idea, it’s not part of the requirement.

Scripture: Psalm 119 (In praise of precepts and instructions); Proverbs 1:2-7; 4:13; 8:33; 10:17; 23:23; Mark 14:22-24; Matthew 26:26-28; Luke 22:14-20; John 6:27, 34- 35, 48-59; Romans 15:4; 1 Corinthians 11:23-27; 14:26; 1 Timothy 1:5

Books: 101 Questions & Answers on the Eucharist, by Giles Dimock, OP (Paulist Press, 2006)

The General Councils: A History of the Twenty-One Church Councils from Nicaea to Vatican II, by Christopher Bellitto (Paulist Press, 2002)

The short answer is Pope Pius XI in 1925. The long answer concerns why he did it. It helps to know the situation of his time. Before Italy became a sovereign nation in the late 1800s, popes had ruled over actual geographical territory for centuries. The papal states were erased permanently with the fall of Rome in 1870, leaving then-Pope Pius IX a prisoner of the Vatican. Four popes later, the so-called “Italian Question” was still unresolved. What tangible territory, if any, could the Roman Church claim?

At the time of Pius XI’s election, Mussolini was in power. The new pope surprised the world by emerging on the balcony of St. Peter’s to offer his first blessing urbi et orbi: “to the church and to the world.” No pope had done this since 1870. It signaled his papacy’s willingness to engage as a force in world affairs. Pius XI was convinced the church had to possess some clearly defined temporal power to operate effectively.

Negotiations with Mussolini’s government took place in back channels, resulting in the Lateran pacts of 1929. These defined the Holy See’s independence from Italy, creating the tiny state of Vatican City as a political entity. The pacts included a small financial concession from the Italian government for the loss of the papal states. It defined relations between Vatican City and Italy for the future.

Mussolini had imagined the agreements left him with the upper hand over a subordinated church to which he’d thrown a modest bone. When Pius later attacked fascism in a bold encyclical, Mussolini was caught off guard. That a librarian-cleric-turned-pope could be a public force to be reckoned with hadn’t figured in the dictator’s plans. He might have paid more attention to Pius’ urbi et orbi blessing. And to the institution of the Feast of Christ the King early in his papacy.

Proclaiming Christ as King was, to Pope Pius XI, a clarification of the relationship between the church and temporal affairs. Though men like Mussolini, Stalin, and Hitler ascended to seats of worldly domination in Pius’ generation, the throne of Christ superseded their grasp. As long as Christ reigns, princes of the world are assured no more than a season of power. We as church continue to affirm this truth on the last Sunday of every church year.

Scripture: Pss. 93, 95-99; Isaiah 9:5-6; 43:15; Zephaniah 3:15; Matthew 2:1-6; 4:17; 27:37; Luke 23:42: John 18:33-37; Timothy 4:1; 2 Peter 1:11; Revelation 1:5

Books: The Liturgical Year, Vol. 3: Sundays Two to Thirty-Four in Ordinary Time, Adrien Nocent (Liturgical Press, 2013)

The Popes: Histories and Secrets, by Claudio Rendina (Seven Locks Press, 2002)

The first time you see those guys with the swords and feathered caps march up the aisle of a church, you might well wonder: what does this have to do with Catholicism? The Knights’ history begins in 1882 with Father Michael McGivney, a diocesan priest in New Haven, Connecticut. McGivney had two concerns: the strong attraction of local youth to secret societies like the Masons, and the number of families struggling with the loss of their breadwinner. The Knights of Columbus were created to address both needs: a Catholic fraternal society offering an insurance policy to support families in times of loss.

McGivney chose Christopher Columbus as the society’s patron, a strong symbol of the Catholic contribution to our national story. This was a calculated choice in an era when Catholic immigrants were far from welcome, and Protestant societies like the American Protective Association questioned Catholic patriotism. By 1905, the Knights could be found in every state of the union and beyond. A powerful sense of ritual enabled its immigrant members to assimilate a new identity, avoid shrinking into ethnic particularity, relinquish old world ties, and affiliate with the story of America. The K of C soon became and remains the largest organization of Catholic laity in the world.

The Knights’ activities evolved along with the nation’s needs. In generations when the church faced prejudice, the Knights studied bias in the press and politics. When U.S. troops needed respite that was safe and wholesome, the K of C provided “Huts” where every soldier was welcome, and everything was free. After the First World War, the Knights sponsored college scholarships and night schools for veterans. In 1922, a K of C Racial Contribution Series published monographs by W.E.B. DuBois, George Cohen, and Frederick Franklin Schrader about the respective contributions of Black, Jewish, and German citizens to the United States.

After the Second Vatican Council, the Knights reorganized with a strong social justice component. Over a million Knights worldwide put their nearly $100 million in annual contributions toward papal charities and projects. Tens of millions of service hours annually are donated by members to their local communities. The K of C still run a well-respected insurance company. All this, and swords too.

Scriptures:

Deuteronomy 10:17-19; 14:28-29; 16:11-12; 24:17-22; 27:19; Isaiah 10:1-2; Malachi 3:5; Acts of the Apostles 6:1

Books:

Patriotism and Fraternalism in the Knights of Columbus, by Christopher Kauffman (Crossroad Publishing Co., 2001) 

Parish Priest: Father Michael McGivney and American Catholicism, by Douglas Brinkley and Julie Fenster (Harper Perennial, 2007)

U.S. Catholics brought up between 1885 and the Second Vatican Council in 1964 learned their religion lessons from this ubiquitous text. The concept of a catechism—in Q&A format reviewing doctrine and belief—is attributed to Martin Luther in the 16th century. Luther’s invention worked so well for the Reformation that the Catholic Church embraced the catechism as an educational tool for the next four centuries. Two Jesuits, Dutchman Peter Canisius and Italian Robert Bellarmine, wrote influential catechisms in the following century. These were joined by French, Spanish, English, and Irish versions. The proliferation of national catechisms ignited debates on the need for a universal text. Until the 20th century, no such document was attempted.

As the U.S. church coalesced under Bishop John Carroll of Baltimore in the late 18th century, the need for an American catechism became apparent. Immigrant Catholics were learning their faith from a multiplicity of foreign texts. “The Carroll Catechism” (sponsored but not written by the Bishop) was based largely on catechisms from England, embracing the introductory questions familiar to anyone who remembers the final text: “Who made you?” and “Why did God make you?” In use through the 19th century, the Carroll Catechism was never mandatory; it merely joined the European texts preferred by local bishops.

American bishops argued for a catechism until the Third Plenary Council, which finally produced a serviceable version in 1885 under Cardinal James Gibbons, Archbishop of Baltimore. Known by the unwieldy title A Catechism of Christian Doctrine, Prepared and Enjoined by the Order of the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore, it ran 72 pages, included 421 questions and answers, and was organized in groupings covering the Creed, Sacraments, and Commandments.

Almost immediately, this effort was labeled an educational and theological failure, incomprehensible to children, dull, and monotonous. Among its problems was the lack of priority assigned to beliefs. (Incongruously, a single question addressed the Resurrection, central to our faith, and that weakly: “On what day did Christ rise from the dead?”) Yet for fifty years it endured, before receiving a considerable revision. The revised Baltimore Catechism of 1941, which is the one folks of a certain age love to quote, arrived on the scene in three versions: for very young children, those receiving First Communion, and adults. After the Second Vatican Council, faith formation took another direction, and the Baltimore Catechism became a footnote of history.

Scriptures:

Exodus 24:12; Proverbs 1:1-7; Wisdom 3:11; Isaiah 2:3; Mark 4:2; Romans 15:4; 1 Corinthians 14:6; Ephesians 6:4; 1 Timothy 1:5

Books:

Pride of Place: The Role of the Bishops in the Development of Catechesis in the United States, by Mary Charles Bryce (The Catholic University of America, 1984)

The Catechism Yesterday and Today: The Evolution of a Genre, by Bernard L. Marthaler, O.F.M.Conv. (Liturgical Press, 1995)

Historian Arthur Schlesinger, Sr.—not a Catholic—made the oft-quoted assertion. It acknowledges that England rallied to Protestantism with the establishment of its national church, and British mistrust of Rome was imported to the New World. So few Catholics came to the colonies (35,000, or 1% of the population by 1790) that no threat seemed apparent. Catholics kept to themselves in Maryland and Pennsylvania.

The 1800s, however, saw a century of massive immigration. The spirit of nativism arose in some Protestant enclaves, as migrating waves from historically Catholic countries arrived on “their” shores. Catholicism gained an official foothold with the appointment of John Carroll as Bishop of the new See of Baltimore. Carroll put an emphasis on opening seminaries and schools, to create a homegrown, educated leadership and laity capable of engaging the national conversation. The schools attracted religious orders from Europe to staff them, and as convent schools sprung up in the Northeast and Midwest, nativist alarms grew louder. 

A church was burned in Charlestown, Massachusetts, followed by two more in Philadelphia. Convents and rectories were likewise visited with arson. A visiting papal nuncio was burned in effigy in many cities. In Indiana, Mother Theodore Guerin’s sisters were spat upon in the streets and denied the customary store credit. Wherever Katharine Drexel purchased land for schools, she typically worked through agents so the sellers didn’t know the buyer was Catholic.

Nativist groups assumed names such as the “United Sons of America” in 1844 and “Order of the Star-Spangled Banner” in 1849. The latter became known as the “Know-Nothings” for their secrecy about their membership. Future U.S. saints including Guerin, Drexel, Philippine Duchesne, John Neumann, Marianne Cope, and Frances Cabrini all reported dealings with Know-Nothings and their offshoots. Finally, the most aspiring opposition group, the American Protective Association, was founded in 1887. APA members swore not to hire Catholics, enter into business with them, or elect them to public office. They sought to curtail immigration to stanch the Catholic population, and falsified scandalous documents from the pope or bishops to perpetuate fear of Rome. At its height in 1894, a million Americans were on the rolls of the APA, and the group controlled local governments in Detroit, Milwaukee, and Kansas City.

The APA fizzled by 1911; by 1915, a reconstituted Ku Klux Klan added anti-Catholicism to its principles. The story of U.S. bias has hardly reached its end.

Books: Documents of American Catholic History – John Tracy Ellis (Wilmington, DE: Michael Glazier, 1987)

The Party of Fear – David Bennett (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1988)

Plenty of folks, including my Dad, have viewed the “Saturday Five” Mass as an unwelcome innovation. It’s been decried as one more Vatican II accommodation to flabby Catholicism: dumbing down our vigorous commitment to the Precepts of the Church. Most decriers would be surprised to hear that a prior evening anticipatory Mass was recommended and defended by 4th-century heavyweights including Augustine and Jerome. Where does the idea come from?

The fifth verse in the Bible declares: “Evening came, and morning followed—the first day.” The phrase is repeated after each of the first six days of creation, giving rise to the Hebrew definition of a day as measured from one desert sundown to the next. Examples in both Testaments testify that time makes a significant shift at sundown: the Temple is closed as shadows lengthen, or crowds bring their sick to Jesus as night falls. Even Easter is counted as “the third day” when the women approach the tomb under cover of darkness.

To be on the safe side in observing erev (Hebrew “evening”), rabbis say wait for three stars to appear in the sky. When you think about it, the concept that the a.m. (ante meridiem, Latin for “before noon”) period begins at midnight is not much more than a decision. The day has to start somewhere.

Jewish practice carries over in the anticipatory Mass for Sunday, or the Vigil Mass of a feast. In 1969, Paul VI wrote that ''the observance of Sunday and solemnities begins with the evening of the preceding day.” Although this was a moto proprio (personal papal initiative), it built on formal teaching issued two years earlier granting permission for the anticipatory Mass. It also acknowledged what the Liturgy of the Hours had promoted for centuries: a Sunday celebration lasting from Evening Prayer on Saturday night until Evening Prayer on Sunday.

The 1983 Code of Canon Law notes that “assist[ing] at a Mass celebrated anywhere in a Catholic rite either on the feast day itself or in the evening of the preceding day satisfies the obligation of participating in the Mass." (no.1248) The Catechism of the Catholic Church affirms: “On Sundays and other holy days of obligation the faithful are bound to participate in the Mass. The precept … is satisfied by assistance at a Mass which is celebrated anywhere in a Catholic rite either on the holy day or on the evening of the preceding day.” (no.2180)

Scriptures: Genesis 1:5, 8, 13, 19, 23, 31; Leviticus 23:5, 32; Nehemiah 13:19; Matthew 28:1; Mark 16:1-2; Luke 4:40; 2 Peter 1:19

Books: Celebrating the Easter Vigil – Rupert Berger, Hans Hollerweger, eds. (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1983)

Let Us Pray: A Guide to the Rubrics of Sunday Mass – Paul Turner (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2012)

Definitely not. The original American Dream didn’t include “Romish” or “Popish” adherents. In pre-colonial times, of course, a strong Catholic presence seemed likely. Of the three powers claiming New World territory, Spain was officially Catholic, with church and state operating in unison. Spanish regions such as Florida, Texas, the Southwest, and California were colonized by soldiers and missionized by priests almost seamlessly. France also exported Catholicism by means of Jesuit missionaries throughout the Louisiana Territory. 

However, the English presence in the Northeast assumed control of the American narrative in generations leading up to the Revolution. The Mayflower and subsequent ships brought all manner of Christian sects seeking freedom from the Catholic influence. Except for Maryland, the colonies were decidedly Protestant.

British law left its mark on the colonies. Public Mass was forbidden. So were Catholic schools. Catholics in Maryland were obliged to send their children to Europe for an education, since local schools were predominantly run by ministers whose biases were expressed in classroom worship and the curriculum. During the Revolutionary War, George Washington had to request special permission to permit Lafayette and his men access to priestly ministry. After independence was declared, only one Catholic signature was affixed to the document: Charles Carroll, whose brother John would become the first U.S. bishop.

Opposition didn’t disappear after the new country was launched. The Know-Nothing Party was a secret society established a half-century later. Adherents received their peculiar name for their refusal to admit any knowledge of their organization. Their intention was to curb the Catholic population—which required keeping the Irish, Polish, Italians, and half the Germans from emigrating. They lobbied for a 21-year ban on immigration. Members were responsible for church, rectory, and convent burnings, and published scandalous accusations against church leaders. They also launched a presidential candidate, Millard Fillmore, in 1856. The Know-Nothing Party was replaced by the American Protective Association, which pledged to keep Catholics out of elected office, to curtail immigration, and to lengthen the period before naturalization. At its height, the APA had more than a million members and was influential until 1911.

Scriptures: Leviticus 33-34; Exodus 15:15; Deuteronomy 10:17-19; Job 31:19-22; Jeremiah 7:5-7; Malachi 3:5; Matthew 25:31-46

Books: The American Catholic Experience – Jay P. Dolan (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1985)

American Catholicism – John Tracy Ellis (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1969)

A relic is an object kept in tribute to a holy person. Some relics are body parts such as bone chips or teeth. Others are items once belonging to the person, most often snips of clothing. Catholics aren’t alone in collecting relics. Other religions like Buddhism employ them. People of faith backgrounds that permit it keep cremains of loved ones in an urn on the mantle (See here for Vatican instruction on Catholic burial, cremation). I have a shirt that belonged to my dad, which I still wear. Relics are a traditional way of keeping in touch with someone special.

Catholic relics are as old as the church. Martyrdom was a frequent if not typical cause of Christian death. The faithful collected the martyrs’ remains, often in pieces, for secret burial in places like catacombs. When available, the instrument of death was spirited off as well. Think: relics from the True Cross. Christians gathered at martyrs’ tombs to celebrate Eucharist. When the persecutions finally ceased, churches were erected on the gravesites. Christians considered burial near a martyr a privilege. A tug-of-war over these bodies became typical; some were exhumed and re-interred on the properties of those who could afford it. In the Middle Ages, Crusaders pilfered lots of relics and carried them to Europe.

Relics were catechetically useful. They spurred interest in the saint whose virtues might be imitated. In 410, a council in Carthage ruled that saints’ shrines had to contain authentic relics or be destroyed. In 767, a Nicaean council determined that every altar must contain a relic or Mass could not be celebrated on it. This decree echoes the original practice of celebrating Mass on the graves of martyrs and is upheld in current canon law (no.1237). Exceptions are made today for portable altars such as those used in wartime.

Selling relics has always been forbidden. Church law says significant relics can’t even be moved around without express permission from the Vatican (no. 1190).

Attributing magical powers to such items is considered an abuse, but the tendency to be superstitious about holy objects is not unknown in the modern church. From the Holy Grail to the Shroud of Turin, the curious and the credulous will always find a less than edifying fascination with such objects. Church teaching draws a distinction between proper and improper veneration. Worship belongs to God alone. Even if a saint should appear suddenly in an apparition, human honor is the limit of our tribute.

Scripture: The Bible regards holiness as a divine attribute communicable to people, places, and things (e.g. Moses’ shining face, the Ark and its sacred utensils, the Temple’s Holy of Holies.) The topic of relics, specifically, is not treated. But see 2 Kings 13:20-21; Mark 5:25-34; Acts 5:12-15

Books: Saints Preserved: An Encyclopedia of Relics – Thomas Craughwell (New York: Image Books, 2011)

Holy Bones, Holy Dust: How Relics Shaped the History of Medieval Europe – Charles Freeman (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012)

The Commission was formed to address a question Pope Francis frankly admits he doesn’t have the answer to: can women be deacons? What the Commission will do is study the history of female deacons in the church. What it won’t do is determine what the Pope will do with the information. As some will recall from 20th-century study commissions on birth control and women’s ordination to the priesthood, popes are free to reject the findings of such commissions and go their own way. The guy in Peter’s Chair gets to make the call.

Which is not to say the appointment of this commission is unimportant. Earlier popes, including most recently John Paul II, not only rejected ordained ministry for women at any level: John Paul emphatically said the church has no authority to ordain women. By calling a commission together, Francis suggests that the church may find such authority buried in historical precedent.

What’s at stake: not the idea that women might have been deacons once upon a time. We already know they were. The record is clear, from Paul’s letters to church history, that the church employed female deacons as early as the year 55. Paul calls Phoebe a deacon (not deaconess) in Romans 16:1. In 1 Timothy 3:8-12, after a description of what makes for a good male candidate for diaconate, the letter states: “Women, similarly, should be dignified ... temperate and faithful … .” The next sentence continues the description of the ideal deacon. It’s evident both male and female candidates made viable deacons.

What the Commission will seek to determine is whether women deacons were “ordained” or “installed” to their office. It makes a difference to the sacramental character, if any, of their service. Here, lines are drawn in the sand. Some scholars insist the rites of diaconate for men and women were identical as evidenced by existing materials. Others disagree. Still others say it doesn’t matter whether the rites were the same; what matters is how they were understood. The differences in service rendered by male and female deacons are less clear to some scholars. Others question whether past practice must dictate present needs. A bishop was once required to be “the husband of one wife,” according to 1 Timothy 3:2. That’s no longer true. The church evolves. For the moment, it’s up to Francis: is it time for the church to restore the women’s diaconate? And how?

Scriptures: Romans 16:1; 1 Timothy 3:2, 8-12

Books: A New Phoebe: Perspectives on Roman Catholic Women and the Permanent Diaconate – ed. Virginia K. Ratigan and Arlene A. Swidler (Kansas City, MO: Sheed and Ward, 1990)

Women in Ministry: Emerging Questions about the Diaconate – Phyllis Zagano (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2012)

Women Deacons? Essays With Answers – Yves Congar, et.al. (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2016)

The women who were present at the crucifixion of Jesus are an intriguing mystery. Several were named Mary. In the shared tradition of Mark, Matthew, and Luke, the women don’t approach the cross. They stand "at a distance," probably for the usual reasons: Women tried to be invisible in public. And they would have reason to fear their treatment by Roman soldiers.

Mark, who writes first, doesn’t give us a precise number of how many women looked on from a distance. He names only three: Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, and Salome. While not an original disciple, Mark offers an account reputed to be from Peter. Only John's late gospel records specifically the presence of Mary, mother of Jesus. All the women there, according to Mark, had been with Jesus since Galilee.

The names James and Joses provide a clue about one of the Marys at the cross. These men are mentioned elsewhere in Mark among four "brothers of Jesus"—possibly cousins of some degree. This makes their mother an “aunt” of Jesus, present to comfort his mother. Mary may have been a family name, the way I have four relatives named Paul. John’s account lists a Mary identified by her husband Clopas rather than by sons. Both Marys could be the same person.

Like Mark, Matthew references four brothers/cousins of Jesus: James, Joseph, Simon, and Judas. In Hebrew, "Joseph" and "Joses" are the same name. At the crucifixion, Matthew mentions James and Joseph as sons of a certain Mary. Matthew verifies the presence of Mary Magdalene and also the mother of Zebedee’s sons James and John. To harmonize Mark and Matthew’s narratives, Mark’s Salome is often identified as Zebedee’s wife.

In Luke’s crucifixion story, the Galilean women are described among "acquaintances" of Jesus standing at a distance. None are named. 

John locates the women directly at the foot of the cross. His list includes the mother of Jesus, his mother's sister, Mary wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. Without punctuation in the Greek, however, it’s not clear whether Mary wife of Clopas IS the sister of Jesus' mother, or two separate women. John says Jesus gives his mother into the care of a beloved disciple. Tradition claims this is John, making him the lone male disciple present. Other scholars identify Mary Magdalene as the beloved disciple who took Mary home, since only women are known to have remained near the cross.

Scripture: Mark 6:3; 15:40-41; 16:1; Matthew 13:55; 27:55-56; 28:1; Luke 23:48-49, 55-56; 24:1-11; John 19:25-27; 20:1

Sources: The Characters of the Crucifixion – Joseph Fichtner, OSC (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2000); The Passion and Death of Jesus (DVD and audio CDs)– Raymond Brown (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press/ Ewloe Clwyd, Wales: Welcome Recordings, 2015)

Let's talk about that. Someone knocks on your door and presents you with some Bible passages: Exodus 20:4-6; Deuteronomy 5:8-10. They advise you to take down your Madonna and Child statue and to stop wearing your St. Anthony medal. Does the Bible view these objects as dangerous or even blasphemous?

In the first of the Ten Commandments, the passage reads: "You shall not make for yourself an idol or a likeness of anything in the heavens above or on the earth below or in the waters beneath the earth; you shall not bow down before them or serve them." This command has been interpreted in Orthodox Judaism as a complete ban on image-making, even in art. Muslims also ban images of any living creatures, although the Qur'an does not. Protestant founders John Calvin and Huldrych Zwingli forbade the use of religious images specifically. Jehovah's Witnesses and Seventh Day Adventists view religious statues, stained glass images, and icons as blasphemous. This battle has been actively engaged at many points in church history. Churches have been destroyed, windows smashed, art burned because some saw such images as contradicting the First Commandment.

Iconoclasm, as image-busting is called, is not just a religious phenomenon. In the ancient world, smashing the statues of a previous ruler was often a political maneuver more than a religious reform. When modern terrorist groups destroy religious artifacts that are also culturally significant sites, it's unclear whether the destruction is about restoring religious purity or asserting control.

Biblically, Moses did destroy the Golden Calf permitted by his priest brother because it imitated religious practices that predated the religious movement Moses was attempting to establish. But later, Moses commands that a bronze serpent be made to heal the people—a beneficial image, but still an image. Still later, King Hezekiah will have the bronze serpent destroyed because the people have begun to worship it. The message is clear: it's not art that God doesn't like. It's the use of idols that limit the idea of divinity or divert a believer's fidelity away from the one God of Israel.

I've rarely met a Catholic in danger of idolatry in relationship to images of the Sacred Heart or devotion to a patron saint. If religious images assist you in prayer or widen your appreciation of divine mysteries, then use them. If they interfere with or narrowly define your sense of wonder, let them go.

Scriptures: Exodus 20:4-6; 32:1-35; Leviticus 26:1; Numbers 21:9; Deuteronomy 4:15-24; 5:6-10; 1 Kings 12:26-31; 2 Kings 18:4; Isaiah 40:18-20; 44:9-20;  Jeremiah 10:1-15

Books: The Laws of Yahweh: A Handbook of Biblical Law - William J. Doorly  (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2002)

Reading the Old Testament: An Introduction - Lawrence Boadt  (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2012)

You won't find a biblical text verifying the date of the birth of Jesus. December 25th has a 1-in-365 chance of being the historical date. It's simply the liturgical date the church settled on to celebrate Incarnation, the mystery of God-made-flesh, officially called the Nativity. We have no idea what time of year Jesus was born. There are debates about what the actual year may have been. Because of calendar anomalies like leap years and other early errors made in the Gregorian calculations that established the Western calendar, the year Zero isn't an accurate starting point for the life of Jesus. Scholarly speculations generally include a range between what we call 7 B.C. to 4 B.C.

December 25th wasn't immediately selected for the celebration of the Nativity. Early Christian observances had strong Jewish roots. For example, they utilized the Jewish calendar in Sabbath observance, shifting allegiance early from the last day of the week to the first to honor the resurrection day. The original Christian feast was therefore Sunday, when Eucharist was celebrated. Easter became the first annual Christian liturgical season to be put in place universally, fixed as it was to the Jewish observance of Passover. It soon grew to a constellation of before-and-after observances, including an entire preparatory season (Lent).

 As the church expanded into the Hellenistic world, feast days were added, typically wedded to whatever local civil calendars were in operation at the time. The Nativity was the second universally popular observance, developing its own preparatory season (Advent), but the length of the season varied and even the date wasn't uniform.  The Western Church chose December 25th to coordinate with the already popular secular celebration of the Winter Solstice, when days began to lengthen with the sun's annual return and winter darkness was conquered by light. The solstice made a useful pairing and natural catechetical tool in declaring the arrival of Jesus, the light of the world, vanquishing the darkness of sin and death.

Meanwhile, the Eastern Church celebrated the Nativity on January 6th, now the feast of Epiphany in the Western Church. These dates were never intended to imply historical accuracy, but rather a theological reality to be recalled and honored. The liturgical calendar focuses on uniting the universal church in commemorating the birth, life, passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus as cosmic realities, not past occurrences.

Scriptures: Isaiah 9:1; John 1:3-5, 9; 3:19-21: 8:12; 9:5; 12:35-36, 46

Books: The Origins of Christmas - Joseph F. Kelly(Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2014)

The Feast of Christmas - Joseph F. Kelly (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press,  2010)

This question hinges on the term "Son of God," which sounds simple but is actually theologically dense. "Just a story," of course, implies the alternative to claiming Jesus as God's Son is to admit it's a false identification. I should probably say up front that, for Christians, Jesus is truly the Son of God. It's fundamental to our faith that Jesus is the divine Son. But we further embrace that Jesus enjoys a dual nature: born of a woman and therefore truly human; yet with origins in God and therefore truly divine. Fully human, AND fully divine. Jesus is both, Christians say. To claim him as one or the other—as merely an exemplary mortal, or a divinity who presents a brief human mirage—is to express any number of heresies recorded in church history.

If you accept Jesus is the Son of God, what are you saying? In the Old Testament, son of God was a title used to describe heavenly beings altogether: angels or superhuman creatures sent to enact the divine will. In ancient Hebrew idiom, the word "son" implied membership in a species: so "son of God" suggested a being of a celestial subset none too specifically parsed. Please note: the nation Israel was also identified as God's son. The covenant bond made Israel an adopted child of God. Israel's identity as son of God was not, however, equivalent to other nation's identification of their leaders as divine sons, as the Pharaoh of Egypt was considered to be. For Israel, it was a designation of relationship, not substance or essence.

In the New Testament, Son of God is applied to Jesus 31 times in Matthew, Mark and Luke's gospels, and 23 times in John's, where it is the preferred title.  The NT letters employ the term 42 times. Clearly the first generations of the church found this title key to their understanding of Jesus' identity. They didn't limit it to the definition implied by OT usage, nor to the title's meaning in Greek culture: that of a hero, king, or demigod. For early Christians, "Son of God" became a unique category for Jesus. While we are all "children of God," Jesus is "Son of God" in a way no one has been or will be. More than a statement of relationship or location with the celestial ranks, Jesus shares God's very substance (is "consubstantial," in the Creed) and cannot be known apart from this essential unity.

Scriptures: Genesis 6:2; Pss 29:1, 89:7; Job 1:6; 38:7; Exodus 4:22-23;Deuteronomy 14:1-2; 32:19; Isaiah 1:2; 43:6; Jeremiah 31:9, 20; Hosea 2:1;     11:1; Mathew 3:17; 16:16; John 1:34; 11:27; Romans 5:10; Galatians 4:4-7
Books: God: Three Who Are One - Joseph Bracken, SJ (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2008)
What Are They Saying About the Historical Jesus? - David Gowler (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2007)

Technically, it's a visible depiction of an otherwise intangible characteristic: glory. In biblical stories, glory describes the "shine" of God, an emanation of light so powerful, it "afflicts" Moses, who's the one human being routinely standing close to God in the Old Testament. When Moses enters the Tent of the Presence, he comes out with an unbearable brightness in his face that requires him to veil himself. Either Moses is protecting the vestige of God's glory from being viewed by profane onlookers, or protecting the unprepared onlooker from a potentially dangerous contact with divinity's afterglow. As we know from other stories, unworthy contact with holy things can kill you. The tribe of Levi was dedicated to God as the only Israelites allowed to touch, tend, or transport utensils and objects used in ritual sacrifices for this reason. They made a living out of keeping themselves pure enough to perform their duties.

The Greeks also imagined sunbursts emanating from Helios, their sun god. Pharaohs of Egypt wear a crown of light in some depictions. It makes sense that Christians would employ the halo when portraying Christ, later extending the usage to angels and finally to saints. Jesus and Mary alone are honored with full body haloes, called aureoles—the most familiar of which surrounds the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

Most saints are portrayed with round haloes in the West, which can be thin circlets of gold or full discs of yellow. The circle is a perfect form, which hints at heavenly perfection. Some artistic renderings utilized a square halo when depicting a still living person who is revered: the square is an earthly, less perfect geometric form recalling the four elements, winds, or directions. A triangular halo is reserved for the less common depiction of God the Father, to recall the Triune nature of the divine. Very occasionally, Jesus will wear the triangular halo for the same reason. Jesus is the only icon who is permitted to be defined by the cruciform halo.

Sometimes anthropomorphic images of the Virtues—theological virtues like Faith, Hope, and Love, or the cardinal virtues Justice, Prudence, Fortitude and Temperance—will wear hexagonal haloes, to remind us they are attributes of God. So altogether, we conclude that the "shine" on a person or thing speaks to us of their nearness to God or their out-and-out resemblance to the divine. We should all be working on our shine!

Scriptures: Exodus 33:7-23; 34:27-35; Numbers 1:49-54; 1 Samuel chs. 4—6; 2    Samuel 6:1-19; 1 Kings 8:10-11; 1 Chronicles 23:25-32

Books: The Square Halo and Other Mysteries of Western Art - Sally Fisher (New York: Harry N. Abrahms, Inc., 1995).

Saints and the Symbols: Recognizing Saints in Art and in Popular Images -Fernando and Giolia Lanzi (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2004).

Full disclosure: I was a parish secretary, so I have a personal investment in this question. "Expected" is a telling word in your query. Since a bonus is a gift, and a gift is not obligatory, the short answer is no. The parish isn't obliged to offer a gift to anyone at Christmas or at other times.

But does that absolve the parish from considering doing so? Canonically speaking, church law says this: "The Christian faithful are obliged to assist with the needs of the Church so that the Church has what is necessary for divine worship, for apostolic works and works of charity, and for the decent sustenance of ministers." (Canon 222—my emphasis. See also c. 231 and 1286 regarding the same for lay workers.) Unless things have changed drastically since I sat at the front desk, I can assure you parish staff members are not lavishly compensated for their labor. Many are glorified volunteers, work part-time without benefits, or accept modest salaries for the privilege of serving the parish. While service is its own reward in many ways, justice requires that folks can make a livelihood and provide for their families. 

Many dioceses have a recommended pay scale as a standard for positions across their parishes. Such a rate can be modest according to the means of a wealthy parish and still entirely out of the question in a poorer one. To make up for the lack of parity, many pastors offer other forms of compensation to make a parish position more appealing: say, more personal time off, or flexible hours. A bonus at Christmas or after a special assignment is another way to let your staff know they're appreciated. I remember spending a month redrawing the map of the parish cemetery, locating graves long obscured or lost. I received a bonus for this, since the cemetery beat wasn't normally a part of my job description. I would have done it anyway when asked.  But it was nice to go home with that extra check.

Most of us in parish work appreciate this isn't Wall Street. We're not here to make a killing. The diocesan priest salary is measly compared to any other professional career scale. While I'd look twice if the pastor gives himself bonuses without oversight, once the finance council clears it, that's enough for me. As for most parish secretaries, who are the backbone of parish life, I'd say give them a bonus. And flowers on Valentine's Day. And take them to dinner on their birthdays....

Scripture: Deuteronomy 25:4; 1 Corinthians 9:9-12; Matt 10:9-10; Luke 10:7;  1 Timothy 5:17-18

Books: The Laborer is Worthy of His Hire: A Survey of Priestly Compensation in the Roman Catholic Dioceses of the United States - William P. Daley (National Federation of Priests' Councils, 1999)

Catholic Parish Administration: A Handbook - Paul F. Peri (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2012)

Attendance at Sunday Eucharist is one of the most solemn commitments in the life of a Catholic Christian. The 1983 Code of Canon Law states: “On Sundays and other holy days of obligation, the faithful are obliged to participate in the Mass.” (canon 1247)

This obligation is naturally suspended in time of illness, or when there is no means of satisfying the obligation, as when traveling through territory in which there is no opportunity to attend Mass.

It should be noted that "Sunday Mass" also includes the celebration of Eucharist on Saturday evening. "Sunday" in secular culture follows a morning-to-evening definition of the day. The biblical day is counted from one evening to the next. (See the repeated usage starting in Genesis 1: 5— "Evening came, and morning followed: the first day.") This liturgical appreciation of a day makes possible the fulfillment of the Sunday obligation by attending Mass on Saturday evening. In most dioceses, opportunities to attend Sunday Mass extend from around 4:00 pm on Saturday until 5:00 pm on Sunday—even later in contexts like a campus Newman Center where students keep late hours and might more likely attend a 9 or 10 pm liturgy.

It would be rare for a person to have a regular work schedule that extends for 24 hours from Saturday evening to Sunday evening.

Canon law does provide for circumstances in which Eucharist is simply unavailable, as in the absence of ordained clergy. Canon 1248 says: “If participation in the eucharistic celebration becomes impossible because of the absence of a sacred minister or for another grave cause, it is strongly recommended that the faithful take part in a liturgy of the word if such a liturgy is celebrated in a parish church or other sacred place according to the prescripts of the diocesan bishop or that they devote themselves to prayer for a suitable time alone, as a family, or, as the occasion permits, in groups of families.”

A local pastor has the authority to judge particular cases and grant dispensation from the obligation of participating in Sunday Mass (canon 1245). When there is truly no opportunity to participate, there is no obligation. At the same time, a faithful Catholic might seriously consider a vocational or geographic context in which he or she never has the opportunity to participate in Sunday Mass.

Scripture: Exod 16:22-30; 20:8-11; Deut 5:12-15; 1 Cor 11:23-26

Books: Sunday Mass: Our Role and Why It Matters - Anne Y. Koester (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2007)

Mass on Sunday: And Other Ways of Being Catholic - Charles E. Miller (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2004

Scripture: 2 Kings 14:7; Isaiah 16:1; Numbers 20:10-11; Matthew 2:1-12; 2 Corinthians 11:32

Fittingly, there is quite a backstory to the location of Jesus’ baptism.

The Jordan River runs along the border between Jordan and Israel. (The width of the river, the distance between the two countries, is about 20 feet.) On the Jordan side of the Jordan River is a place called, then and now, Bethany Beyond the Jordan. There is strong biblical and archaeological evidence, as well as support from Byzantine and medieval texts, that this is where John the Baptist baptized Jesus of Nazareth in the river.

Bethany Beyond the Jordan has two distinct areas. The first is Tell Mar Elias (“Elijah’s Hill”), and the second is a cluster of remains of churches dedicated to Saint John the Baptist, a monastery, caves used by hermits, and baptismal pools. It has been a place of Christian pilgrimage for millennia.

According to 2 Kings, Elijah parted the waters of the Jordan River and crossed over, and then ascended to heaven on a chariot of fire, it is believed, at Tell Mar Elias.

Elijah and John the Baptist shared many similarities. Both were fiery men, who preached repentance and announced the coming of the Messiah. In fact, some believed John was Elijah, which John specifically denied. Still, it makes sense that John would conduct his ministry from a place associated with Elijah. Also, John’s preaching wasn’t popular with authorities and doing it on the other side of the river was probably more prudent.

When Jesus went to John for baptism, John initially objected, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?” (Matthew 3:14). But when Jesus insisted, John complied. And so began Jesus’ public ministry. He gathered his first disciples there: Peter, Andrew, Philip, and Nathanael. Multiple times, Jesus went to Jordan, and specifically Bethany Beyond the Jordan, where he taught and healed.

In keeping with the solemnity of the site, it has been restored to look much like it probably did 2,000 years ago. There are no signs marking the dirt path that leads to the rock and stone steps down to the water’s edge.

Bethany Beyond the Jordan is considered a national treasure by Jordanians. Its restoration and preservation is funded by the Jordanian government. John the Baptist is the patron saint of Jordan.

Pope John Paul II visited Bethany Beyond the Jordan during his 2000 pilgrimage to Jordan and the Holy Land, and it was designated as a Jubilee Year 2000 pilgrimage site by the Catholic Church, along with Mount Nebo, where Moses viewed the Promised Land before dying. Pope Francis visited Bethany Beyond the Jordan in 2014.

Scripture: 2 Kings 2; John 1:21, 28, 35-51, 10:40; Matthew 3:5-6, 13-17; Luke 3:21-22

According to the Book of Deuteronomy, Moses’ journey from Egypt to the Promised Land ended just short of him entering it—on Mount Nebo in what was then called Moab and what is today modern Jordan. The Israelites—so close to their final destination—camped “in the valley near Beth-peor” (Deuteronomy 3:29), a small lush area northeast of Mount Nebo that is known today as Ayun Musa (“Springs of Moses”).

God told Moses that he would not cross the Jordan with his people and commanded him to go to the top of Mount Nebo—which overlooks the Dead Sea, the Jordan River valley, and Jericho—to view the land of Israel. (Today, on a clear day, Jerusalem is visible from Mount Nebo’s promontory.) Moses died and was buried in the vicinity, but even at the time of the writing of Deuteronomy, the exact place of his tomb was unknown.

Joshua was anointed by Moses to be his successor. After Moses died, Joshua led the Israelites across the Jordan and into the Promised Land. The crossing point has been identified as the ford directly opposite Jericho known as Bethabara, or Beit ‘Abarah (“House of the Crossing”).

Centuries later, according to 2 Maccabees, just before the Babylonian invasion of Israel, Jeremiah hid the Ark of the Covenant (the chest containing the stone tablets on which the Ten Commandments were written) at Mount Nebo in a cave and sealed the entrance. The location of the lost Ark is, of course, a matter of great conjecture.

In the 4th century, Christians built a church at Mount Nebo that has been expanded into the large basilica there today, which houses a collection of Byzantine mosaics. Outside the sanctuary is the Serpentine Cross, which commemorates Christ’s crucifixion and the bronze serpent God instructed Moses to erect to stop a plague (all who looked upon the serpent were spared death).

Ancient Moab was the home of the Ammonites. Known as the Plains of Moab in the Old Testament and Peraea in the New Testament, it includes the lands east of the Jordan River and along the Dead Sea in the western part of modern Jordan, where today more than 100 biblical sites important to Jews and Christians have been identified and protected. Moab is where Jacob wrestled with an angel, where Lot’s wife was turned into a pillar of salt, where Job suffered and was rewarded for his faith, and where Elijah ascended to heaven. And it is where Jesus was baptized by John.

In the 20th century, American civil rights leader Martin Luther King, Jr. prophetically referenced Moses gazing from Mount Nebo at the Promised Land he would never reach in King’s last speech before he was assassinated. The speech is popularly called “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop.”

Scripture: Deuteronomy 3:27-29, 34:1-6; Joshua 1, 3; 2 Maccabees 2:4-8; Numbers 21:4-9; John 3:14

Yes. Some early writers preferred the term deaconness, and others called them deacons as with the men. Still others implied that these women were simply wives of deacons. The existence of the female office of deacon is not in question, however. What the responsibilities of the office were is less certain: whether or not female deacons carried out the same ministries as their male counterparts.

The scriptural basis of the office depends on Paul's reference in Romans to "Phoebe our sister, who is a minister (diakonos) of the church." Another passage in 1 Timothy describes the qualifications of a deacon and continues, "Women, similarly, should be dignified, not slanderers, but temperate and faithful in everything." The passage continues to delineate qualities of deacons, and it is fair to assume that the women in question were also deacons. Early in the 2nd century, Pliny the Younger notes the presence of women deacons, and documents from the church of the East mention them, including the Council of Chalcedon (451) which makes note of their ordination.

What did female deacons do? Acts of the Apostles describes the first seven male deacons as preaching, teaching, baptizing, healing the sick, casting out demons, serving the poor of the community, and being martyred for their faith. Paul adds the job of fundraising to that resume. Luke describes women as the financial patrons of Jesus' ministry in chapter 8: they might fit Paul's concept of the deacon role. Paul's coworkers Pricilla, Chloe, and Lydia also served, taught, and led the community in various ways, although the term deacon was not scripturally applied to what they do.

In the 3rd-century Syrian church, deaconesses assisted at the baptism of women, and visited the sick and elderly. The Apostolic Constitutions of the 4th century describe deaconesses as virgins or widows, subordinate to male deacons, who served their communities based on current pastoral needs. This document also includes the ordination ritual for deaconesses, who received laying on of hands from the bishop. Like her male counterpart, the deaconess did have a liturgical role, but was not eligible to preach. For the first six centuries, the office of the female deacon was well established in the East.

Early evidence in the Western church shows opposition to an ordained office for women deacons, although their service to the church is uncontested. As late as the sixth century, places like Gaul still utilized widow-deaconesses.

Scripture: Luke 8:1-3; Acts of the Apostles 6:1—7:60; 8:4-40; 16:14-15, 40; 18:1-3, 18-28; Romans 16:1-4; 1 Timothy 3:8-13

Books: A New Phoebe: Perspectives on Roman Catholic Women and the Diaconate - ed. Virginia Ratigan (Kansas City: Sheed  & Ward, 1990)

Women of Bible Lands - Martha Ann Kirk (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2004)

Few church leaders in Origen's generation (ca. 185-254) were as influential and colorful as this theologian-commentator-teacher-priest. From a wealthy family in Alexandria, Egypt, Origen enjoyed a superior education. His father's martyrdom during the persecution of Severus in 202, however, powerfully impacted Origen's teen years. He gave himself to fasting, nights of prayer, poverty, and self-castration, according to 4th-century historian Eusebius. While still in his teens, Origen was appointed a catechist by the bishop of Alexandria. His most promising students shared his ascetical life and lived under the possibility of martyrdom as did all Christians of those times.

Origen's dedication to understanding Scripture compelled him to visit Palestine, where because of his great learning he was invited to preach—though still a layman at the time. His bishop in Alexandria objected and ordered him home. In 230 the bishops of Caesarea and Jerusalem convinced Origen to be ordained, which may have led to his formal break with Alexandria. He established a school of theology in Palestine and proceeded to the most influential work of his career. 

Origen invented the first Bible parallel: the Hexapla, a six-column comparison of texts that attempted to validate the Septuagint translation in wide use in Alexandria. Thanks to his patron Ambrose, Origen also authored hundreds of commentaries and homilies on possibly every book of the Bible—though much of his work would later be suppressed or destroyed, a fraction surviving only in translations by Jerome and others. What did survive of the commentaries became a blueprint for biblical scholars: looking beyond the literal stories to the moral, dogmatic, or spiritual layers of meaning.

His treatise On First Principles outlined Origen's fundamental theology: centrally Trinitarian, with a focus on the twin poles of creation and salvation. It was Origen's interest in speculative theology that became most controversial. He was passionate about describing how the problem of evil entered into the human picture, how it made angels of some of us and demons of others, and how God was going to resolve it all in the end.

During the Decian persecution of 250, Origen was imprisoned and tortured. His health broken, he died after his release. Church historians were not always kind to Origen's theology. But his analysis of Scripture is still quoted relentlessly.

Scriptures: 1 Timothy 3:14-16; 4:1-16; 6:2b-16; 2 Timothy 3:14-17; 4:6-8

Books: History and Spirit: the Understanding of Scripture According to Origen - Henri de Lubac (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2007)

When the Church Was Young - Marcellino D'Amboriso (Cincinnati: Franciscan Media, 2014) 

This story includes enough drama for a mini-series. Apostolic succession presumes a direct line of authority proceeding from Peter the Apostle to Pope Francis I. That line got blurred during the Western Schism, which inadvertently sprung from the Avignon papacy.

In the 14th century, Rome was in a state of political anarchy and became too dangerous to contain the pope. One pope was imprisoned, and a later one elected under military pressure. In 1309, Clement V moved to Avignon, France, for safety and stability. Six more popes remained at Avignon, and the papal office became increasingly worldly in what was described as "the Babylonian captivity of the papacy". Saint Brigitta of Sweden pleaded with Avignon Pope #6 to return to Rome, but it took Saint Catherine of Siena's relentless spiritual clout to convince Pope Gregory XI (Avignon Pope #7) to comply in 1377.

Not long after returning to Rome, Gregory XI died. The next papal election was influenced by rioting Italians who called for a native successor, and cardinals still behind in Avignon didn't get to vote. The mentally unstable Urban VI was the result. The French cardinals rejected Urban and held their own conclave, electing Clement VII. England and most of Italy sided with Rome; France, Sicily, Scotland, Naples, and Spain preferred the French pope. This led to a 39-year schism that confounded rulers and bishops. Double appointees were obliged to duke out the details in monasteries, religious houses, even parishes.

Urban returned to Avignon and was probably poisoned. Roman cardinals elected Boniface IX, who was promptly excommunicated by the French Clement VII. Boniface reciprocated. Clement died and was replaced with Benedict XIII by the French. The Roman Pope Boniface died, followed by Innocent VII and then Gregory XII. While several popes on both sides had wanted to end the Schism, Gregory and his counterpart Benedict agreed to sponsor the Council of Pisa in 1409 to resolve the problem. The Council deposed both popes and elected another, Alexander V. The other two popes refused this solution. Now there were three popes. Alexander soon died—probably poisoned.

 The Pisa Council replaced him with John XXIII who was hardly better than a pirate. Another Council was held in Constance in 1414 and it elected Pope Martin V. All other contenders lost their supporters and the Petrine successors were thereafter traced through the Roman line of popes.

Scripture:
Mark 3:16; Matthew 16:18; Luke 22:32; John 21:15-17; Acts chs. 1–15

Books:
Authority in the Church - David J. Stagaman, SJ (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1999)

The Popes of Avignon: A Century in Exile - Edwin Mullins (Ketonah, NY:BlueBridge Books, 2011)

All of us in the modern world need to know more about the Crusades! These events have done much to shape East-West relations to the present time. There were nine altogether, from the 11th through the end of the 13th centuries: armed expeditions of western medieval Christians against "infidels" in general, and Muslims occupying the Holy Land in particular. Many Crusades were disasters, and few achieved the goals set for them.

Crusades were holy wars with a biblical pedigree, as historian Joseph Kelly puts it. Their rationale was pasted together from the books of  Joshua through Revelation to support the idea that fighting to secure the Promised Land of Israel is a divinely ordained mission. Since the 7th century, Muslim Arabs had taken charge of Palestine, Egypt, Syria, and northern Africa by means of jihad or their own version of holy war. Specifically they attacked both the Persian and Byzantine Empires on the threshold of their desert territories, incidentally cutting off access to Jerusalem, Antioch, and Alexandria from the West. The Arabs and Byzantines eventually found a way to co-exist, and pilgrim access to the Holy Land was restored.

By the late 11th century the Byzantine emperor wanted to be rid of his enemies and appealed to Western leaders for help. Pope Urban II couldn't drum up support for the Byzantine cause but knew that Catholics would fight to liberate the Holy Land, sweetened with the offer of indulgences. The Crusades invited the religiously fervent, the adventurous, the greedy, and especially landless younger sons who were assured of getting a plot of their own in the bargain. The First Crusade actually did manage to recapture Antioch and Jerusalem, but at the cost of mass slaughtering of Muslims, Jews, and indistinguishable local Christians.

After that, the holy places of the Near East would exchange hands many more times. Crusades were launched to retake them, or to achieve whatever political aims the kings and popes of the West had in mind. Wholesale slaughters, rape, looting, and destruction became programmatic. While some of these wars restored the holy places to Western control, it would be hard to describe the military actions that accompanied them as holy.

Scriptures:
holy war theology in Book of Joshua; Deuteronomy 20:4; the campaigns of King David in 1 and 2 Samuel; Joel 3:10; Book of Revelations

Books:
101 Questions and Answers on the Crusades and the Inquisition - John    Vidmar, OP (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2013)

The Crusades Through Arab Eyes - Amin Maalouf (New York: Schocken/Knopf Doubleday, 1989)

Famous abbesses of the past include Hildegard of Bingen, a 12th-century visionary, theologian, composer, artist, and healer.

An abbess is the female counterpart of an abbot. This title derives from abba, "father" in Aramaic and Syriac, which makes the abbess the mother of her community. Hers is an elected office over a group of twelve or more nuns in an abbey. (Abbey and monastery are interchangeable words.)  The term abbess has been used since the sixth century within the Benedictine order, though now it's generally applied among religious cloisters of women. The abbess was originally a woman of noble rank as recognized within the structures of feudal society. She had the capacity to sit on councils, and in some situations governed double monasteries of both monks and nuns.

Was she powerful? You bet. In the feudal period, an abbess wielded temporal, spiritual, and ecclesial authority that bordered on the episcopal: that is, she held a rank similar to a bishop within the borders of her cloister and associated territories, and was answerable to no authority under the pope. Today's abbesses hold a more limited authority over their communities in spiritual and temporal matters.

Famous abbesses of the past include Hildegard of Bingen, a 12th-century visionary, theologian, composer, artist, and healer. She ran into conflicts with clerical leaders and eventually moved her community to Bingen in order to govern without interference. Her power was so strong and she inspired such devotion in her nuns and priest spiritual directors that it's no wonder she filled some clergy with alarm. Her canonization was delayed for centuries, and only in 2012 did Pope Benedict XVI recognize her as a Doctor of the Church.

Teresa of Avila in the 16th century was a remarkably capable abbess who reformed the Carmelite order and encouraged John of the Cross to do the same with the monks under his charge. Teresa is another Doctor of the Church named belatedly in 1970, and at the time of her death the Spanish Inquisition was investigating her for possible heresy. Eleventh-century Abbess Heloise of the Paraclete community was considered a brilliant scholar and governor of her community. Heloise is remembered mostly for her tragic love for Peter Abelard. Finally, Scholastica, twin sister of Benedict, was co-founder of the Benedictines with her brother. While the term abbess was not used in the 5th century to describe her, Scholastica fulfilled that role admirably for her nuns. As Gregory the Great said of her: "She could do more, because she loved more."

Films: "Hildegard" (Gateway/Vision Video 1994) "Teresa de Jesús" miniseries (Televisión Espanola, 1984)

Books: The Life of Teresa of Jesus: the Autobiography of St, Teresa of Avila  - transl. E. Allison Peers (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1960)

The Life of the Holy Hildegard - The Monks Gottfried and Theodoric (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1995)

Pope Francis meeting Patriarch Bartholomew in Turkey Dec. 2014

Not popes, but patriarchs. This answer is embedded in history which is where things always get interesting and make more sense. There were five ancient patriarchates: basically self-governing territories under a chief bishop and his synod. Those five were Rome, Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem. Remember that distances were greater when the whole world operated without technology and on foot or horseback. It was hardly practical for a centralized office to handle every local decision about the universal church, especially as languages and cultural contexts of each diocese were quite different. The law of the church (canon law) wasn't even informally standardized until the Middle Ages. Bishops came together for universal councils in places like Ephesus and Chalcedon for rulings on controversial questions and to resolve major conflicts. But for the most part, the patriarchates ran their dioceses effectively.

The papacy's profile soared after Pope Leo I's reign in the fifth century. Two hundred years earlier, Irenaeus had affirmed Rome as a "more powerful principality" rooted in the martyrdoms of Peter and Paul in that city. Popes before Leo I had also seen the Roman bishop as holding "pastoral care of all the churches." But Pope Leo was the first to declare that the Bishop of Rome assumed the fullness of power conferred on Peter by Christ. To be in communion with Rome, therefore, is to be in communion with all bishops and churches who confess now, have confessed, or will confess the Catholic faith.

Tensions gradually arose between the Eastern patriarchs and Rome over matters of theology, liturgy, and church practice. Authority and governance became a flashpoint, culminating in the Great Schism between East and West in 1054. The Eastern church claimed the name Orthodox, viewing the See of Rome as a "papal church." Eastern and Western leaders excommunicated each other and their constituencies, a ban that wasn't lifted until the time of Pope Paul VI in the twentieth century. Nationhood advanced as a preferred political identity, and increased nationalization of the churches proliferated. Some Eastern patriarchs remained loyal to the Pope including the Armenian, Chaldean, Coptic, Maronite, Melkite, and West Syrian patriarchates. Over twenty unique Catholic rites exist in full communion with the Roman Catholic Church today. The rest allied with the Eastern and Oriental Orthodox patriarchs. They have not been in communion with Rome for almost a thousand years. The dialogue of East and West continues.

Books:

101 Questions and Answers on Eastern Catholic Churches - Edward Faulk (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2007)

You Are Peter: An Orthodox Theologian's Reflection on the Exercise of Papal Primacy - Olivier Clement (Hyde Park, NY: New City Press, 2003)

Primacy means "first." What makes the pope first in the church? The idea goes back to Peter the Rock, upon whom Jesus chooses to build his church. Peter's at the top of every list of the Twelve and the obvious spokesperson for the bunch. He receives the threefold command to feed the Lord's sheep, and he's the one whose faith must strengthen his brothers, according to the prayer of Jesus. Because Peter and Paul were martyred in Rome, the bishop of that city was early seen as the one who assumed Peter's leadership. Clement of Rome, Ignatius of Antioch, Dionysius in Corinth, and Tertullian all viewed this authority as the destiny of the one who occupies Peter's Chair in Rome.

Papal primacy is in a constant balancing act with the collegiality of all bishops worldwide. Collegiality too dates back to the early church and doesn't contradict primacy, as Vatican II confirmed. (See Lumen Gentium's concluding explanatory  note.) The first Vatican Council addressed primacy with the now-famous doctrine on papal infallibility. We often forget this Council was interrupted by war in 1870 and that clarifications about the role of the other bishops in preaching, teaching, and governance—already on the agenda—had to wait another century for a second Council to treat them.

Papal primacy hasn't always led to the unity it suggests. Papal power is juridical, not political, meant to judge all matters in light of the gospel. Yet the church has certainly wielded its share of temporal power since Constantine gave Christianity a privileged place in his empire. The bishop of Rome was originally an ecclesial referee: addressing controversial theological questions; mediating conflicts to protect the rights of other bishops; and making the call on excommunications when necessary. Papal judgments expressed the communion of local churches and weren't meant to swallow up all ecclesial power in the room. The authority of local bishops, according to Vatican I, is essential to the life of the church and is not reducible to mere capitulation to the Boss in Rome. Each bishop is the Vicar of Christ in his own territory, not the Pope's local representative.

When Pope Francis talks about wanting to hear from his bishops about how best to shape church leadership in the future, he's working from a papal model that has deep roots in church history. Papal primacy makes him the head of the episcopal college, not a supreme private ruler.

Scriptures: Mark 3:16; Matthew 16:18; Luke 22:32; John 21:15-17; Acts chs. 1–15

Books: Papal Primacy From Its Origins to the Present - Klaus Schatz, SJ             (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1996)

A Service of Love: Papal Primacy, the Eucharist, and Church Unity - Paul McPartlan       (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America, 2013)

Biblical family values sound similar to a 1950s American nuclear household setting. The creation story says that a man and woman leaves their parents in order to form a new unity. Yet "Honor your father and your mother" is the nucleus around which Hebrew tradition positioned its model of family dynamics. There's a certain tension in these ideals: how do we make a clean break with the original family while still living up to the obligation to honor those ties? Every modern marriage struggles to juggle these conflicting priorities.

The Mosaic tradition was built on a system that gave the eldest father, or patriarch, authority over the clan, including the power to bless or curse its members for the future. This gradually led to laws permitting divorce in circumstances of male displeasure with the union. Children had to obey their parents in terms described at length in the wisdom tradition: "Children, pay heed to a father's right; do so that you may live." The mother's influence isn't left out of the equation: "For a father's blessing gives a family firm roots, but a mother's curse uproots the growing plant." (Sir 3:1 and 9) Children had the responsibility to care for aging parents, but parents had the duty to discipline, instruct, and protect their children.

In between Moses and the later sages, the prophets showed less interest in family dynamics and more in social justice and fidelity to Israel's God. When Jesus began his teaching ministry 1200 years after Moses and a century or two after the wisdom sages, his emphasis seems rooted in prophetic concerns: the poor and the sick, the outcast and the sinner. When Jesus speaks of family, it's often to translate it into new terms. Jesus prefers to identify with the child rather than the way of the powerful patriarch. Mother and sister and brother are not primarily ties of blood but of loyalty to the word of God. The goodness parents show to children is a fraction of what God has for us. The teachings of Jesus won't necessarily strengthen families but will serve to tear many apart. In fact, following Jesus may involve choosing his way over the way of family altogether— an idea forcefully expressed as "hating" family. This family of faith is poignantly illustrated at the cross, where the disciple receives a new mother, and the mother a new child. The Jesus family isn't just a contradiction of ancient family patterns. It's a total transfiguration of the ideal.

Scriptures: Gen 2:24; Deut 5:16; Prov 31:10-31; Sir 3:1-16; 7:18-28; 26:1-18; 30:1-13; 42:9-14; Mk 9:36-37; Lk 8:19-21; 11:27-28; 12:49-53; 14:25-26; 18:29-30; Jn 19:26-27

Books: The Gospel of the Family - Cardinal Walter Kaspar (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2014)

A Christian Theology of Marriage and Family - Julia Rubio (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2003)

The word martyr means witness. To die in testifying to your faith unites the martyr to Christ in death as in life. Martyrdom was a common fate among the first Christians, who early on were victims of mob violence (as in the death accounts of the deacon Stephen and apostle James in Acts), and later executed en masse by order of the Empire in the third century. Documents such as The Martyrdom of Polycarp (157) and The Passion of Perpetua and Felicitas (203) give us a good picture of what fidelity to the faith might cost in those generations. Constantine's Edict in 312 made Christianity lawful, after which the number of martyrs in the West precipitously declined.

Early Christians believed that the dead awaited the time of Final Judgment before attaining heaven. Martyrs, however, achieved heaven at once because of their deep communion with the death of Christ. Even if a martyr had not yet been baptized, their blood shed for the faith qualified as a form of baptism. Martyrs' graves became sites of pilgrimage and annual celebrations of Mass on their death anniversaries, including funerary banquets. Churches were built over their tombs. The relics of martyrs were honored and often relocated to other churches and basilicas. Such relics are still placed in altars today.

The idea of martyrdom as the ultimate form of Christian death made it prudent to discourage the provocation of martyrdom in some circumstances. Gradually the ascetic ideal of the monastery came to be viewed as "spiritual martyrdom" that was equally esteemed.

Christian martyrdom did not disappear from history after the fourth century, of course. In times and places where religion becomes politicized— Japan in the 16th century, Uganda in the 19th century, Mexico in the early 20th century, or the Middle East today—martyrdom resurfaces. The period of the Reformation saw both Protestant and Catholic martyrs who died for their doctrinal positions. Missionaries of every era face the possibility of death whenever they enter unfamiliar cultures where their motives are mistrusted.

In the modern era which is highly politicized, identifying martyrs among the faithful dead has become increasingly complicated. While the deaths of people like Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Nazi Germany or Bishop Oscar Romero in El Salvador were clearly heroic, it's less clear to some whether they died as a result of their politics or their faith. Being declared an official church martyr may be beside the point. If we die with Christ, we are guaranteed to live with him.

Scripture: 2 Macc 6:18—7:42; Acts 6:8—8:1; 12:1-3; 2 Tim 2:11-12; Rev 7:13-17; 17:6

Books: The Big Book of Martyrs - John Wagner (New York: Paradox Press, 1997)

Christian Martyrs for a Muslim People - Martin McGee (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2008)

Calendars are about time and the human need to harness it. Starting in the ancient world religions employed calendars, but you didn’t have to be a Mayan priest or a Stonehenge druid to care when the sun and moon were in this phase or that. You just needed to be a farmer—or to depend on one for your survival.

Ancient Israel’s calendar traced the turn of the seasons and celebrated their influence on the natural world. Sowing was an occasion for intercessory prayer and harvesting the time for praise and thanksgiving: “Those who sow in tears will reap with cries of joy” (Psalm 126:5). The feasts of Unleavened Bread, Pentecost, and Tabernacles were all originally harvest festivals.

Calendars, however, do more than note predictable, cyclical events. They also commemorate significant past events, such as battles won or important goals achieved. So Passover became the ultimate commemoration, remembering the signature victory over Pharaoh’s armies and captivity itself. Hanukkah, a more minor feast, reminisces about another victory regarding religious liberty. It should be noted that none of these events were considered secular occasions, because God was understood to be the source of all movements in the created order.

Christianity, with its roots in Jewish thought and practice, adopted its sense of the sacred character of time from Israelite history. Jesus grounded the meaning of the first Eucharistic ritual in the liberation event of Passover; as a result the celebration of Easter is configured each year with the Jewish Passover, and the entire liturgical year conforms backwards and forwards from that date. The need to embrace the sacred character of all of life’s seasons, both tearful and joyful, remains evident in the longing of Advent, the penitential nature of Lent, and the alleluias of Easter.

The church continues to acknowledge divine victories won over sin and death in both the Incarnation and the Paschal mysteries celebrated at Christmas and Easter. It honors the harvest of the church reaped at Pentecost and the long season dedicated to growth—both seen and unseen—in Ordinary Time.

Today’s religious calendar commemorates mystical events and spiritual victories rather than agrarian events and military battles, but it still assists in harnessing time and organizing it for optimal use. Liturgical cycles help us remember our story and the identity we bear as heirs to this history. It acknowledges the sacred character of time in witnessing to the goodness and faithfulness of God. Most of all it reminds us of the many reasons we have to give thanks.

Scripture
• Leviticus 23; Deuteronomy 16:1-17; Isaiah 9:2; Hosea 8:7; Matthew 13:37-43; John 4:35-38; 1 Corinthians 9:10-11; Revelation 14:15-20

Online
• The Roman Catholic calendar for A.D. 2014

Book
• Living the Christian Year: Time to Inhabit the Story of God by Bobby Gross (InterVarsity Press)

ICON of the Holy Family.

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Almost nothing; the New Testament pickings are slim. The Gospel of Mark eliminates Joseph from the story, beginning its narration in Jesus’ adulthood. John’s gospel mentions Joseph once in passing. Luke tells the infancy story from Mary’s perspective, making her the principal actor. The Gospel of Matthew alone highlights Joseph’s role in salvation history. It is here we meet Joseph the dreamer who, like his namesake in the Book of Genesis, learns heaven’s purposes for him while he sleeps.

We can fill in some blanks from what’s known about Jewish customs of the 1st century. Marriages were enacted as early as 13 for males, 12 for females. Nothing in the gospels betrays Joseph as an older man, a widower, or theologically better suited to be Mary’s chaste guardian than her husband. That the earliest gospel calls the adult Jesus “son of Mary” rather than Joseph, however, suggests his father was absent, dead, or suspect. This resonates with Mary known to be with child before the marriage, and/or that Joseph was dead by the time Jesus grew up. Luke and John prefer to call Jesus “son of Joseph,” restoring respect to his patrimony. Luke adds pointedly, “As was thought.” When the family of Jesus comes around during his ministry, his father is conspicuously absent.

Jesus is called a carpenter and carpenter’s son, which is how we know his father’s occupation. The last time Joseph makes an appearance in the story is when Jesus is 12 and goes missing in Jerusalem. Mary remains in the company of Jesus until the Crucifixion, when her care is transferred to the beloved disciple, confirming that Joseph is already dead.

In Matthew’s portrait we encounter Joseph the righteous man who, understandably, does not want to marry a woman who turns up pregnant without his participation. Of two possible legal solutions—exposure to violent punishment or quiet divorce by paperwork—Joseph chooses the gentler. Then heaven intervenes and gives him consequential second thoughts. He takes Mary into his home and gives her his full protection. That is an enormous concession to the divine will, especially given the church’s insistence on Mary’s perpetual virginity. We always want more from Joseph. He’s already given quite a lot.

Scripture
• Genesis 37:5-11; Matthew 1:18-25; 2:13-23; 13:55-56; Mark 6:3; Luke 1:26-27; ch. 2; 3:23; 4:22; John 6:42

Online
• The Life and Prayers of Saint Joseph by Wyatt North (Wyatt North Publishing, e-book)

Book
• The Mystery of Joseph by Marie-Dominique Philippe, O.P. (Zaccheus Press)

VIRTUES trampling vices from Strasbourg Cathedral.

The 4th-century bishop Gregory of Nyssa described the aim of the virtuous life as "to become like God." That may sound intimidating as a life goal, but it's certainly moving in the best possible direction. Virtue comes from the Latin word for "force" and you can think of it as the driving force of good behavior. The more we exercise a particular virtue, the more habit-forming it becomes. Because the same is true of vice, choosing to create easy habits of virtue is a better match for the Christian life.

The church speaks of four cardinal ("hinge") virtues upon which a moral lifestyle depends. These are prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance. Prudence is the pilot virtue: It guides you in discerning what the right course of action is. It relies on habits of prayer, reflection, and spiritual counsel. Justice is pro-active in seeing that relationships between individuals, or between society and individuals, are correctly enacted. Justice is especially concerned with the common good—that what emerges from a course of action brings about the best for all concerned.

Fortitude is the strength that enables you to persevere in right actions despite opposition, suffering, and temptation. Temperance is the virtue Saint Paul often calls self-control or modesty. It is the mastery of the self that releases you from slavery to the senses or passions so that you can choose your way with the freedom of the children of God.

Along with the cardinal virtues, the church has identified three theological virtues: faith, hope, and love. Saint Paul defines them as the three things that last when the whole world passes away. As the term theological suggests, these three pertain to God because they begin with divine instigation, are motivated by the Spirit, and seek God as their ultimate end. Faith means trusting in God with every life decision—not simply believing doctrinal statements about God. Hope enables you to look beyond your present circumstances, no matter how troubling or limiting, into future "Kingdom" realities confidently. Love, the "greatest" virtue according to Paul, is also the one that binds the rest together. The best definition for the practice of love remains Paul's wonderful passage in 1 Corinthians: "Love is patient, love is kind."

Scripture
• Wisdom 8:7; Romans 5:1-2; 8:18-25; 1 Corinthians 13:4-7, 13; Colossians 3:15; Titus 2:11-14; Hebrews 10:23

Online
The virtues in the Catechism of the Catholic Church

Books
• The Good Life: Where Morality & Spirituality Converge by Father Richard Gula, S.S. (Paulist Press)
• Everyday Virtues by John W. Crossin (Paulist Press)

"In this age of ours, when men (sic) are drawing more closely together and the bonds of friendship between different peoples are being strengthened, the Church examines with greater care the relation which she has to non-Christian religions." So begins a breakthrough document from Vatican II, Nostra Aetate (Declaration on the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions). This statement released a theological revolution in 1965. Catholicism went on record calling the human family one community sharing a common destiny in God.

All religions seek answers to the great human questions about life, meaning, happiness, death, and mystery. To the extent they arrive at a revelation of the true God, they participate in truth known to the Christian faith. Nostra Aetate notes that Hinduism deeply respects meditation and divine mystery, expressed in stories and philosophies that support the ways of love. Buddhism critiques the present world's inadequacies and proposes disciplines to liberate the human spirit through compassion and mindfulness. Other religions of the world present a "program of life" inclusive of doctrines, moral precepts, and sacred rites. All of these assist human beings in the quest for God and truth and are therefore honorable.

 "The Catholic Church rejects nothing of what is true and holy in these religions." (no. 2) This is a strong proclamation that deserves to be more widely known. It doesn't absolve the Church of its obligation to proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ, which it regards as the fullness of truth.

 Muslims have a great affinity with biblical religion as heirs to the faith of Abraham. Islam acknowledges one Creator God, almighty and merciful, who chooses to be revealed to humanity. Muslims honor Jesus as a prophet and Mary as a holy woman, and anticipate final judgment and the resurrection of the dead. They practice prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, all mutually esteemed by the Church.

Judaism is mentioned in Nostra Aetate and a second Council document, "Guidelines on Religious Relations with the Jews." Both affirm the intimate place of the Jewish people in the designs of God, never forsaken by the covenant which binds them for all time. Linked to Christians by biblical tradition; the Jewish leadership of the early church; liturgy, feasts, and ritual formulas—there is no room for discrimination or prejudice against the Jewish community. New global realities make dialogue and understanding between all who seek God a mandate for the future.

Scripture: Acts 16:26-27; Rom 2:6-8; Gal 3:7; Eph 2:14-18; 1 Tim 2:3-4

Books: No Religion Is an Island: The Nostra Aetate Dialogues - Edward Bristow (New York: Fordham University Press, 1998)

Ecumenism and Interreligious Dialogue (Rediscovering Vatican II) - Edward Idris Cassidy (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2005)

Church teaching on international order was first comprehensively presented in 1963, with Pope John XXIII's encyclical Pacem in Terris (Peace on Earth). It declares that peace can only be realized on earth if God's will regarding social obligations are established first. This document treats the imperative for observing human rights to food, clothing, shelter, rest, medical care and other necessary services, linking these rights to duties. Pacem in Terris also obliges governments to serve the common good of their people, and asserts that nations have rights and duties that must be respected by other nations. Relationships among nations must operate in the spirit of truth, justice, solidarity, and liberty.

Recognizing that problems between nations can surpass the ability of the nations in question to resolve them, Pacem in Terris calls for a collaborative worldwide authority to assist in finding effective solutions. The outline for peace on earth is therefore four-fold: between individuals, within nations, between nations, and across the planet altogether. Each has both rights and responsibilities to observe.

When war becomes a reality nonetheless, how are Catholics to respond? Until the time of Constantine in the 4th century, Christians did not take part in war. Origin took a dim few of soldiering and a brighter view of the contribution Christians made to society through prayer. Augustine introduced just war theory: that the use of force could be a legitimate response to evil if other means failed. In the Middle Ages, Franciscans and Protestant Waldenses started movements of nonparticipation in war craft. Later "peace churches" like Anabaptists, Quakers, Mennonites, and Brethren emerged from these roots. When Pope Paul VI became the first pope to speak to the United Nations, his declaration—"No more war! War never again!"—reflected his experiences in the two devastating wars of Europe. It also reflected a growing emphasis in church teaching that the morality of war in the modern military age often nullifies the old criteria for just war, since the waging of such war creates as much evil as it seeks to curtail.

Church teaching since Vatican II doesn't forbid Catholics military involvement. It does praise all who renounce violent means. It recommends thoughtful consideration of just war principles in the decision to take up arms. Catholic organizations like Pax Christi are dedicated to the peaceful resolution of world conflicts. But the discernment of the individual remains an open question.

Scriptures: Hos 2:14-23; Ps 85:10-11; Isa 9:6; Lk 1:79; Matt 2:13-14; 5:5-9; Jn 14:27; Eph 2:13-22

Books: After the Smoke Clears: The Just War Tradition and Post War Justice - Mark Allman and Tobias Winright (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2010)

Christian Peace and Non-Violence: A Documentary History - Michael Long, ed. (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2000)

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               To be exact, three days on the liturgical calendar honor buildings—and another celebrates a chair. Since most Catholics think of feast days as memorials of saints and martyrs, the notion of venerating places and furniture can sound more than a little odd.

The church calendar also recalls important revelatory events in the life of Jesus like Epiphany, the Ascension, or his Baptism; a theological "feast" celebrating God as Trinity; sacramental celebrations like the Body and Blood of Christ; and birthdays like the Nativity of John the Baptist, Mary, and Jesus. Marian days include title feasts for names under which we honor Mary, including Our Lady of the Rosary and the acknowledgment of her Queenship.

So not all feast days honor saints, and not all focus specifically on people. Back to celebrations of "things." The three buildings plus chair annually honored are as follows: the Dedications of the Basilica of St. Mary Major (Aug 5), Basilica of St. John Lateran (Nov 9), the Basilicas of Sts. Peter and Paul, Apostles (Nov 18), and the Chair of Peter (Feb 22).

The four patriarchal basilicas are ancient in origin, and are all in Rome. The Lateran is important as the episcopal seat of the bishop of Rome, a.k.a. the Pope's cathedral, and is the highest-ranking Catholic church. Originally the property of the Laterani family, it was called the Church of the Savior after being donated to the Church by Constantine in the 4th century. The pope's official residence was on the grounds of this basilica until 1309 when papal offices moved to Avignon. The Lateran was damaged by earthquakes (in 443 and 896), barbarian invasions (455 and the 700s), and fires (1308 and 1360). It was rededicated to St. John the Baptist after the rebuild of 905, and for its many resurrections is symbolic of the Church's resilience through history.

St. Mary Major was built in the 4th century, according to legend, after snow fell on the site in August. It was formerly known as Our Lady of the Snows. St. Peter's Basilica was built over the crypt where Peter is believed to be buried. Over 130 popes also rest there. St. Paul's Outside the Walls honors the relics of Paul. The Chair of Peter, housed at the Vatican, is a wooden throne gifted to the pope in 875. It represents the fullness of papal authority derived from "sitting in Peter's seat."

Scriptures: Isa 2:1-5; Matt 21:12-13; 1 Cor 3:9-17; 2 Cor 6:16; Eph 2:19-22

Books: The Jubilee Guide to Rome: The Four Basilicas, the Great Pilgrimage - Andrea Braghin et. al. (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1998)

The Major Basilicas of Rome - Roberta Vicchi (New York: Scala Press, 1999)