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Swimming the Tiber 15: The Sacraments: Confirmation

Written by Versor on February 6, 2017 · Leave a Comment

To be honest, I don’t have a lot to say about confirmation. It’s one of the three rites of Christian initiation (the other two being baptism and the Eucharist), which means it’s integral to unity with the universal Church, but I can’t recall thinking of any particular controversy around it. Perhaps I just didn’t run in the right circles.

To that end, this week’s post is pretty short. (No, I’m not done with it quite yet; calm down.) I’ll just do a quick run-down of confirmation–how it looks and what it does, basically. Confirmation is covered in full in Part 2, Section 2, Chapter 1, Article 2 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, available for free at a number of different websites (like this one). Here’s the short version:

Confirmation furthers the endowment of grace begun in baptism.

In the past two weeks, I talked about how baptism grants us grace from the Holy Spirit and unites us to the Church, the Body of Christ. Confirmation is the next logical step; it opens us up to the Holy Spirit even more, enabling us to persist in the Church and pursue holiness. This is a mystical reality, not merely a symbolic gesture.

In essence, confirmation is placing a seal, an indelible mark of ownership, on a Christian. From that point forward, that person belongs not to themselves nor to any temporal person or group, but to the Holy Spirit of God. This is efficacious toward salvation, and so confirmation (like baptism) should be done as early as possible, but in the Western tradition is frequently delayed until the “age of discretion” (one might say the “age of accountability” or “age of reason”), except in emergency circumstances. (I’ll get to more on this separation in a moment.)

Confirmation is shown in Scripture by the descent of the Holy Spirit.

Confirmation is participation in the baptism of the Holy Spirit. In this way, it is tied closely to baptism with water, which is the first rite of Christian initiation. I even talked in the last two weeks about how one leads to the other naturally. Nevertheless, there is an ordinary process: the laying on of hands. We see the extraordinary process frequently in Scripture (Matthew 3:16; Mark 1:10; Luke 3:22; John 1:32; Acts 2; 10:44-47; 11:15), but we also see this ordinary process, which we are to follow (Acts 8:14-17; 19:5-6; 2 Timothy 1:5-7).

(Note that 1 Timothy 4:14 refers to Timothy’s ordination by the elders, which I will get to in a few weeks, and not to Timothy’s confirmation by Paul.)

Confirmation is technically separate from baptism.

Confirmation as a sacrament is technically separate from baptism. They are linked as rites of Christian initiation, but they do not necessarily need to happen simultaneously.

This is important to note, because as I wrote a moment ago, the Western tradition separates them temporally. You see, confirmation is bestowed by one’s bishop, signifying the new convert’s unity with the whole Church (and not merely the local parish). As time passed in those early days, the rapid increase in baptisms meant that the bishop could not be present for every one, so confirmation was separated to retain his place in the process.

In the East, by contrast, the bishops have granted authority to parish priests to confirm converts, so that the process of initiation is kept unified temporally. In the West, we aim to retain this unity through the renewal of baptismal promises during the act of confirmation, but delegation of that authority has not been as widespread.

Confirmation is recommended, but not strictly required, before the Eucharist.

Ordinarily, it makes sense that confirmation should precede the Eucharist, as the Eucharist completes the rites of Christian initiation (more on that next week). However, since confirmation has been separated temporally from baptism, it is frequently put off until adolescence (especially in the United States). And traditionally, the first reception of Holy Communion was delayed until after confirmation, but because of the lateness of confirmation, many young people were not receiving the Eucharist until their late teens, which meant they spent several formative years without the graces granted by the Eucharist.

In an effort to correct this, Pope Pius X declared in 1910 that children of the age of reason (about 7) could receive the Eucharist. This basically reversed the order of sacraments and has created some confusion among the faithful. Bishops also have the authority to adjust ages for these sacraments in their dioceses, so some have restored the original order and some have not. As a family, you can also speak to your parish priest and bishop about receiving them in the proper order. (This is really only necessary for children, as adult converts retain the original order of sacraments.)

Would it have been easier to order bishops to confirm children earlier? I think so, but evidently, Pius X did not. The way things are is not illegitimate or invalid, but it can be a little confusing.

I think that covers the highlights. Next week, I’m going to start talking about one of the biggest points of contention between Catholics and Protestants: the Eucharist. I’m going to go ahead and assume it will take more than one week to cover properly.

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The Sacraments: Baptism (Part Two)

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The Sacraments: The Eucharist (Part One)

Swimming the Tiber 14: The Sacraments: Baptism (Part Two)

Written by Versor on January 30, 2017 · Leave a Comment

Last week, I talked about how the purpose and effect of baptism is to forgive sins and unite the believer to the Body of Christ (as opposed to merely signifying a declaration of faith on the part of a person old enough to make such a decision).

This week, I’m going to tackle the second point of contention: when to baptize somebody.

As a Baptist, I always had a ready answer to the question of infant baptism: “It’s not Scriptural!” Indeed, infant baptism is never mentioned explicitly in Scripture. All attempts to root the practice in Scripture are ultimately reliant on Tradition, rather that the text itself, to establish that interpretation. But to be fair, “believer’s baptism” for children at the age of reason is never mentioned in Scripture, either. At no point is the baptism of the children of believers ever mentioned, either as infants or as adolescents.

In fact, every instance of baptism in Scripture is the baptism of a convert.

So we must rely on some other principle of interpretation to determine when a person ought to be baptized. For the Baptist, this is an extrapolation of “believer’s baptism,” with the assumption that a five- or six- or seven- or eight-year-old child is capable of belief. (Looking back, I think that was not at all the reality for me; genuine faith may well be possible for some children, but it was so far beyond my comprehension then that you may as well have asked me to be baptized on account of understanding the doctrine of the Trinity, or the dual nature of Christ, or that that photons behave as both particles and waves, or that black holes are so massive that they generate enough gravity to prevent even light from escaping them. I’d have probably agreed to it because you made it sound like I should.)

But for the Catholic, there are a few things we rely on. First, we rely on the strength of Tradition. Certainly, infant baptism was the tradition of the early Church, because Church Fathers as early as St. Irenaeus defended it–and he would not likely have defended the practice in AD 190 if he had not been baptized as an infant himself 50-60 years before, probably by St. Polycarp. By that time, Polycarp was a bishop, but in his younger years he was a student of St. John (the Evangelist, who wrote five books of the New Testament, and was the beloved disciple of Jesus). Could the message of Christ have been so corrupted so quickly? Or is it more likely that St. John taught St. Polycarp to baptize the infant children of the faithful, who then taught it to St. Irenaeus, whose writings on that very subject we still have to this day?

As Catholics, we also rely on the purpose of baptism, which, as you may have now surmised, is why I have addressed these questions in reverse. That is, if the purpose of baptism was merely to signify a declaration of faith, then of course, we should wait until a child is old enough to declare his or her faith. (You may as well say that an infant or a child is capable of declaring their future career or whom they will marry, except that matters of faith are not so trivial as these things–which suggests we should wait even longer to be sure of a child’s faith.) But if, as I discussed last week, baptism is efficacious to forgive sins and unite someone with the Church, the act is independent of the chosen faith of the child, and it should not depend on their state of belief, but on whether or not their parents want them to be part of the Body of Christ.

I don’t know any Christian parent who does not want their children to be part of the Church. And if someone did not, could you really call them Christian?

This capacity of baptism to forgive sins and grant access to the sacraments of the Church also means that a child who has not been baptized remains subject to original sin, the old self, their sinful nature, almost to adolescence (or beyond, if something interferes with the development of their faith). And we live in a broken world where life is unexpectedly short. Does it make any kind of sense to leave our children enslaved to their own sins, knowing full well they may die at any moment, and be lost forever? Or, rather, should we intervene on their behalf, not hindering them, but letting them come to Christ (Matthew 19:13-15; Mark 10:13-16; Luke 18:15-17)?

I have read an objection to this argument, saying that this vignette opposes infant baptism, because Jesus did not baptize the children, but only blessed them. But we know (John 4:1-2) that Jesus did not baptize anyone at all with water, but his disciples did, so why would he have baptized these children? But he blesses, he forgives sins, and, by his presence, people are healed. These are the extraordinary means of salvation, and, by design, we have access mainly to the ordinary means; that is to say, Jesus can forgive and heal by word and touch, but we obtain forgiveness through baptism and obedience.

And while there is no direct mention of infant baptism in Scripture, we do see whole households being baptized under the faith of their heads. Acts 16:13-15 tells the story of the conversion of Lydia and her household; Acts 18:8 of Crispus and his household; and 1 Corinthians 1:16 of Stephanas and his household. Now, of course, you may argue that these households might not have had infants or children at all, or that they might have been excluded from the baptism of their family–but the text doesn’t say that, either. As long as we’re arguing from silence (which is a terrible thing to do), the text makes no mention of anyone in Lydia’s household believing before their baptism, or of anyone in Stephanas’ household believing at all. The head of a household is responsible for the faith of that household; that’s why fathers have such weight of responsibility (see Ephesians 6:1-9; Colossians 3:18-25). Whether there are infants in each of these households is not relevant to the question; what’s important here is that those with responsibility to pass on the faith do so, and part of that is including one’s children in the Body of Christ (perhaps even the most important part, though certainly raising a child cannot be in the least discounted).

It is crucial to remember that baptism is the covenantal sign of our faith, as circumcision was before Christ. St. Paul makes this clear in his epistle to the Colossians:

In whom also [you] were circumcised¹ with a circumcision not made by hand in the divestment of the body of the flesh, in the circumcision of Christ, having been buried together with him in baptism, in which also [you] were assembled through the faith of the action of God, the [one] having roused him out of [the] dead; and you, being dead {in} the blunders and the uncircumcision² of your flesh, [he] made you alive together with him, having forgiven for us all the blunders, having plastered over the [note] against us handwritten³ with doctrines, which [note] was opposed to us, and [he] has lifted it up out of [our] midst, having nailed it to the cross.

– Colossians 2:11-14

Footnotes:
¹ Lit. “cut around”; compare with circumcision, from Latin circum, around, and caedo, to cut.
² Lit. “the foreskin”
³ Here means a note of debt, in this case a legal one (from “doctrines,” just following); on top of having this meaning, the word χειρόγραφον (handwritten) is wonderfully juxtaposed with ἀχειροποιήτῳ (not made by hand) above. Baptism is a spiritual and divine reality which “plasters over” the frail pages recording human sin.

We see again that it is baptism which buries us with Christ and raises us up with him, whereby also our sins are forgiven us. It joins us to God’s family through his Son. And circumcision was commanded for every male at least eight days old, not because those infants grasped what it meant to be united to the covenant of God, but because anyone who was not circumcised was “cut off from his people” as one who had broken God’s covenant (Exodus 17:14).

Before I close, I do want to address one final point about when to baptize someone: rebaptism. In many Protestant circles, and among Baptists especially, it is common practice to rebaptize someone who either was baptized outside of a Baptist church or who had lost their way and wanted to recommit themselves to God. According to Catholic teaching, this is inappropriate at best. Baptism is once for life. You can’t get baptized again, not really. And whenever a sacrament has the proper form, it is assumed to be valid until proved otherwise–so baptisms (and marriages, which I’ll get to later) performed outside the Church are presumed valid, so we don’t rebaptize. The second “baptism” would be a farce. Consider Ephesians 4:4-6, which teaches us that there is one baptism into the one Body of Christ (see also 1 Corinthians 12:12-13).

The one exception to this is when the first “baptism” is done improperly (lacking the names of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, as directed by Christ in Matthew 28). Compare this with Acts 19:1-7.

So you see how the Church understands baptism, and how I could go so far from what I believed before to what I believe now. I think that the proper perspective makes the Church’s teaching on baptism clear, but I spent a long time thinking that Catholics were not just wrong, but completely batty. It can be a hard change to make, but, looking back, I’m sure it was the right one.

Next week, I’ll be looking at the next of the seven sacraments: Confirmation.

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The Sacraments: Baptism (Part One)

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The Sacraments: Confirmation

Swimming the Tiber 13: The Sacraments: Baptism (Part One)

Written by Versor on January 23, 2017 · Leave a Comment

There are, generally speaking, two primary points of contention regarding baptism: (1) when to do it, and (2) what it’s for. That may sound like just about everything, but at least I don’t have to argue that we should do it–that much should be obvious (Matthew 28:19-20).

I grew up in the Baptist tradition, which means that my answers to the above issues were (1) upon or beyond the age of accountability (or age of reason), usually five to eight years old (depending on the child), and when the person expressed faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, and (2) as a statement to the church community that a person had accepted the aforementioned faith.

As a Catholic, however, the answers are (1) as soon as possible, and (2) for the forgiveness of sins.

These are not close together at all, as you can see. So why the change? Well, let’s look at these one at a time–but just to mess with you, I’m going to tackle them in reverse.

Let’s first examine the Scriptures in favor of baptism as a sign of our faith, but nothing more.

And [he] said to them, “Having been conveyed unto quite the whole cosmos, herald the good news to all creation.¹ The [one] having believed and having been baptized will be saved, but the [one] disbelieving will be condemned.”

– Mark 16:15-16 (my translation)

But Crispus, the synagogue-head, believed in the lord with his whole house, and many of the Corinthians, hearing, were believing and were being baptized.

– Acts 18:8 (my translation)

For Christ did not dispatch me to baptize but to evangelize, not in cleverness of reckoning, in order that the cross of Christ may not be emptied. For the reckoning, the [one] of the cross, is folly to the [ones] being destroyed, but to us, the [ones] being saved, [it] is the power of God.

– 1 Corinthians 1:17-18 (my translation)

Footnotes:
¹ Or every creature.

In the first passage, we see that believing is the real crux of the matter (no pun intended). If you believe (and get baptized), you will be saved, but disbelieving is the path to condemnation; so, it seems, the believing is the part that saves, not the baptizing. In the second place, we don’t even see mention of Crispus being baptized, so it must not have been important. And in the third passage, we read St. Paul telling us that he came to preach, not baptize, so of course, preaching is more important.

There are also other passages that do not suggest anything special about baptism, treating it almost as an afterthought–for example Acts 2:41; 8:35-38; 16:14-15, 31-34. At most, these passages suggest that baptism is a sort of statement, a declaration of intent, but nothing spiritually efficacious. So baptism is, in essence, a sign of faith. But is that the whole story? Is it only a sign of faith, or does it actually accomplish something as well?

Before we move on to other passages, let me first address the objections raised here. For the first passage, it seems that belief saves, and not baptism–but we already know this isn’t the whole story, of course, and it’s not quite so simple with baptism, either. As we shall see shortly, baptism is efficacious, and a lack of mention here is not the same thing as denying power to baptism altogether. For the second, the tense of the latter clause is important–we see that many Corinthians were believing and being baptized, so Crispus (and his whole house) is included in this group, which is juxtaposed with the response of the Jews in verse 6 of that chapter (they opposed Paul and reviled him).

The passage from 1 Corinthians is quoted often by opponents of baptism as a real sacrament with power to accomplish things in our lives. “If baptism is so important,” people say, “why did Paul say preaching was better?” Well, for one thing, St. Paul didn’t say that preaching was better, only that he came to Corinth to evangelize, not to baptize. The context here is that he is angry that the Corinthians have divided themselves and call themselves after Paul, after Cephas (Peter), after Apollos, after Christ, but there is only one Christ (a topic to which St. Paul returns in his letter to the Ephesians, as we shall see next week). Evangelism and baptism are not opposed, of course, but steps in a process; first, you are evangelized and converted by the power of the cross (not by eloquence or sophistry), then you are baptized, then you proceed in a lifelong pursuit of Christ through discipleship and faith. As St. Paul wrote later in this same letter (and as we saw a couple of weeks ago), “each [man] has his own grace from God, the [one] thus, the other thus.” Paul’s gift, and his task, was to evangelize; it fell to others to baptize. Or, as Jesus said, “One sows and another reaps” (John 4:37, NRSV).

Now, let’s look at a few more passages.

“I, on the one hand, baptize you in water unto repentance, but the [one] coming after¹ me is stronger than me, whose sandals [I] am not competent to carry;² [he] himself will baptize you in a holy spirit and [in/with] fire; whose winnowing-shovel in his hand both purges thoroughly his threshing-floor and gathers his grain into the storehouse, but the chaff-heap will burn down in unquenchable fire.”

Then Jesus comes near from Galilee upon the Jordan to John in order to be baptized by him. But John was hindering him, saying, “I have need to be baptized by you, and you come to me?” And having answered, Jesus said to him, “Let [it] go just now, for thus [it] is conspicuously fitting³ for us to fill all justice.” Then he let him go. And Jesus, having been baptized, went straight up from the water; and behold, the skies opened {to him}some manuscripts omit this word, and [he] saw {the} spirit of God descending just as a dove {and} comingsome manuscripts: coming; others omit upon him; and behold, [there was] a sound out of the skies saying, “This [man] is my son, the beloved [one], in whom [I] am well-pleased.”

– Matthew 3:11-17 (my translation)

And being gathered, [he] gave a command to them not to separate from Jerusalem, but to await the promise of the father, which [you] heard from me, that John, on the one hand, baptized with water, but you will be baptized in a holy spirit after not many of these days.

– Acts 1:4-5 (my translation)

But having heard, [they] were stabbed [in] the heart and they said to Peter and the remaining apostles, “What should [we] do, men, brothers?” And Peter to them, “Change your minds(repent),” {[he] said}, “and be baptized, each of you, upon the name of Jesus Christ unto the acquittal of your errors and [you] will receive the gift of the holy spirit. For the promise is for you and for your children and for all the [ones] up to a faraway [place], how many soever the lord God called of us.” And with more, other arguments [he] testified and [he] was calling to them, saying, “Be saved from this crooked generation.” The [ones], therefore, having accepted his argument were baptized and about three thousand lives were added in that day. And [they] were adhering firmly⁴ to the teaching of the apostles and to the communion, to the breaking of the bread and to the prayers.

– Acts 2:37-42 (my translation)

With Peter still speaking these sayings, the spirit, the holy [one], fell upon all the [ones] hearing the argument. And the faithful [ones] out of the circumcision, as many as gathered with Peter, changed,⁵ that also upon the nations the gift of the holy spirit has been poured out; for [they] were hearing them speaking with tongues and magnifying God. Then Peter answered, “Does anyone have power to withhold the water from baptizing these [men], whosoever received the spirit, the holy [one], just as also we [did]?” And [he] ordered them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. Then [they] asked him to stay for some days.

– Acts 10:44-48 (my translation)

Note: for comparison, see also Mark 1:4-11; Luke 3:16-22; John 1:26-34; and read Acts 11:15-18 for important context on the passage from chapter 10 above. Acts 22:16 mentions again the power of baptism.

Footnotes:
¹ The word here (ὀπίσω) literally means “behind” or “backwards”; this is an idiom in Greek for the future, which is unknown and unseen (therefore behind us), as opposed to the past, which is seen (and therefore ahead). We preserve this in English when we say that the future comes “after” us, even though we frequently think of ourselves marching forward into the future.
² There may be several plays on words here. First, the verb “to carry” (βαστάσαι, from βαστάζω) resembles the verb “to baptize” (βαπτίζω), and we will see John shortly baptizing Jesus under protest that he is unworthy to do so. This verb also literally means to lift up or raise, which metaphorically means to exalt or glorify, which is one of the purposes of John’s ministry. A synonymous verb (ὑψόω) is also used by the Apostle John in John 3:14 to connect with Jesus’ crucifixion.
³ This is a periphrastic form. (See my note 6 on periphrastic forms from a couple of weeks ago.) Here, Jesus emphasizes the nature of the deed, rather than the effect (it is seemly, rather than it seems to so-and-so).
⁴ This is another periphrastic form. Here, the sense is focused on the converts’ state of mind, rather than the specific action (though of course the action is important, even more important is its reflection of who they became as a result of their conversion).
⁵ This is often translated as a passive, e.g., “They were astounded,” or, “They were amazed,” but the word is technically active. It literally means to displace, but in this case, perhaps it means something like changed [their minds]. (This should not be confused with the word translated “change your minds” in the above passage, which is frequently translated “repent”; the words are not related, but the theological sense–i.e., conversion to the truth–may be.)

There’s a lot to unravel here, but some of it is self-explanatory. I’ll try to be brief.

In the first passage, we hear John declare the purpose of baptism: repentance. Mark calls it a “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (NRSV). This is the effect of baptism. But we immediately see Jesus baptized by John; surely he had no sins that needed to be forgiven. But Matthew tells us why Jesus’ baptism by John is different, but still appropriate: in the first place, it was appropriate that Jesus fulfill the law and do as he taught us to do (Matthew 5:17). Also, Jesus’ sins are not forgiven by baptism, because he has committed no sins to forgive, and he does not possess the stain of original sin, but the act does spark off his earthly ministry, complete with a theophany (the revelation of God to the people, by God’s declaration of his Son’s identity). This is the effect for Jesus, and the effect for us is similar: it cleanses us of original sin and of all our sinful deeds prior to baptism, so that, washed clean by the blood of Christ, God can declare of us a sonship. (See Romans 8:12-17; Galatians 3:25-29; 4:4-7.)

The second passage is an echo of John’s teaching in each of the Gospels: after the baptism with water comes a baptism with the Holy Spirit, a greater baptism, sent by Christ. At first glance, this sounds like an abandonment of the baptism by water in favor of the baptism by the Holy Spirit, but consider the third passage: no sooner had the apostles been baptized by the Holy Spirit than they preached to the gathered crowd and, upon their conversion, Peter and the apostles baptized them with water, according to the command of Christ (see Matthew 28 again).

In the fourth passage, the revelation of the Gospel to the Gentiles converts their hearts, and God bestows his Holy Spirit upon them–and immediately, Peter orders that they be baptized with water. Is this merely a formality? If they have the Holy Spirit already, what need have they of this other baptism? But this reinforces the truth: baptism is an essential part of the process, by which we are granted graces by God and gain entrance into Christ’s Body, the Church, and by which our sins are forgiven. Acts 22:16 reminds us of this important step; for who can deny that Saul, on the road to Emmaus by Christ himself, and again in Damascus by Ananias, was ordained to go unto the world as an apostle? But still he needed to be baptized, to be washed of his sins, before that ministry could begin in earnest.

In case you remain unconvinced even now, consider also the cleansing, healing, and saving power of being washed with water. In Genesis, we read of Noah and the great flood, washing away all the sins of the world–but as merely a type of baptism, imperfectly cleansing the world, for immediately Ham sins against his father and the cycle starts all over again. But 1 Peter 3:18-22, in some of the strongest support for baptism as a saving sacrament in all of Scripture, tells us that the great flood prefigured baptism, because in the flood, the sinful were washed away and eight people were saved for God’s kingdom.

Later, in Exodus, we read of the people of Israel fleeing Pharaoh’s armies through the Red Sea. Again, through water, the people were saved from evil. 1 Corinthians 10 reminds us that the people passed through the sea, were baptized into Moses, and were saved from Egypt–but only for a time, for soon they began to fall prey to idolatry. Again, we see the same symbols: water cleanses, but only for a time.

In 2 Kings 5, we come to the story of a man named Naaman, who had leprosy. By the command of Elisha, he washed in the Jordan seven times (the same Jordan where John the Baptist preached and baptized) and was cleansed of his leprosy. And Naaman believed, and worshiped God, but he, too, still had his shortcomings (fearing the wrath of his master for not worshiping in the house of Rimmon, for example).

Jesus himself gives us symbols of baptism. We see in John 9:1-7 that Jesus healed a man born blind, in no small part, by having him wash his eyes. The man does not know all the details, but he has been cleansed. (In verses 35-39, Jesus finds him again and tells him more, and he believes.) Later, “before the festival of the Passover,” Jesus washes the feet of his disciples. Baptism is not the only message in this moment (John 13:1-11), but it should not be forgotten, especially in verse 8: “Jesus answered, ‘Unless I wash you, you have no share with me'” (NRSV).

Consider, finally, the baptism with fire. Jesus spoke of undergoing this baptism himself (Mark 10:38-39; Luke 12:50), of the pain and suffering he would endure. This is the “baptism into death,” to which we are joined in our own baptism, as St. Paul explains in Romans 6:3-4. This wraps baptism up in the crucifixion and the resurrection, laying us down to sleep in death, raising us up in newness of life. In this, baptism accomplishes what its analogue accomplished; it is but one step by which we fill up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions (see Colossians 1:24). Baptism puts to death the old self, crucified with Christ, and brings us forth anew, that we may live for God in Christ Jesus. In this way, too, by baptism we clothe ourselves with Christ himself (see again Galatians 3:27-29).

Can we really doubt that baptism is efficacious to forgive sins? And not just any sin, but the “old self,” the fallen nature–original sin. (You may recall that I talked about that topic in some detail last week.) It is by baptism that we put to death our original sin, our slavery unto death, and enter into a new life in Christ Jesus. This is the purpose and effect of baptism, not merely a declaration of our changed hearts, but the very method of marking our souls with an indelible mark, a mark which can never be removed.

This post grows long indeed, and I still have a great deal to cover about when baptism ought to occur. Look forward to that discussion next week!

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That Death May Die

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The Sacraments: Baptism (Part Two)

Swimming the Tiber 12: That Death May Die

Written by Versor on January 16, 2017 · Leave a Comment

My original plan for this series had me moving directly into a discussion of the sacraments. I assumed everyone would be on the same page as me by this point, but it occurred to me more recently that views on original sin are inconsistent. Personally, my view did not change between the first time I learned of the topic, when I was Protestant, and now; thus, as a chronicle of my own journey, this series did not need a post dealing directly with the question of original sin.

But, I decided, as an examination of Catholic theology in general, a short post addressing original sin would be a good idea.

The doctrine of original sin, however you hold to it, describes the state of humanity as a result of the sin of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. As our first ancestors, the sin of Adam and Eve has an effect on our entire species; the full nature of that effect is where disagreement lies. Some undoubtedly insist that original sin is nothing at all, that we bear no effect from that first disobedience–such a view flies in the face of Romans 5:12-21. Some conflate original sin with personal sin (thinking, perhaps, to link it to Romans 3:23). I am fairly certain that neither of these views is correct; Scripture is quite clear about the immediate and interminable effect of our ancestral sin.

But perhaps you don’t recognize the term at all. Perhaps you know it by another name: our “fallen nature,” for example. Whatever the term, though, the theology is clear: because of the Fall in the garden, we are now separated from God and we engage in personal sin.

There are still some conflicting views on how this works, though. In at least some Eastern Orthodox traditions, for example, “original sin” is basically our state of mortality; because of Adam’s sin, we (his descendants) inherit death. This is a reading focused on verses 14 and 17 of Romans chapter 5, because “death ruled” over man (with consideration also for 1 Corinthians 15:21-22). I think (in accordance with the Roman tradition) that this is not a full reading of the passage, nor a full understanding of the situation. Rather, in my view, original sin is not merely our mortality, but our very corruption, from which we cannot escape without God’s grace.

Let’s take a closer look at the primary passage in question:

On account of this, just as through one man, failure came into the cosmos [on a particular occasion], and through failure, death [came into the cosmos], and thus into all menhere and through the end of the chapter, (persons) death came through,(passed through, reached) upon which [point/time] all [men] died; for until [the] law, failure was in [the] cosmos, but [on the other hand] failure is not put in the account with [the] law not being,(without [the] law) but death ruled from Adam as far as Moses evenlit. and upon the [ones] not erring inlit. upon the transgression of Adam, who is a cast(model / type); lit. beating of the [one] being destined.

But (the favor is not like the blunder);lit. not as the blunder, thus also [is] the favor for if to the blunder of one [man], the many died, much morelit. very much the grace of God and the gift in grace, [that is, in] the [grace] of the one man Jesus Christ, abounded unto the many. And [it did] not [abound] as the gift through the one [man] having failed [on a particular occasion]; for on the one hand, the judgment fromlit. out of one [blunder] [leads] unto condemnation, but on the other hand, the gift from many blunders [leads] unto justification.lit. a just [act] For if, by the blunder of the one [man], death ruled through the one [man], much morelit. very much the [ones] seizing in [this] life the abundance of the grace and [the abundance] of the gift of justice will rule through the one Jesus Christ. Then therefore as through one blunder into all men [it has come] unto condemnation, thus also through one just [act] into all men [it has come] unto justification of life; for just as through the disobediencelit. misunderstanding of the one man, the many becamehere and in the next clause, lit. were put/set down [as] erroneous, thus also through the obedience of the one [man], the many will become just. But [the] law came in alongside, in order that the blunder might be more than enough;(superfluous) but where the error was more than enough, grace over-abounded,(abounded even more) in order that, just as the error ruled in death, thus also grace may rule through justice unto eternal life through Jesus Christ our lord.

– Romans 5:12-21 (my translation)

If you’ve read my full translation of that chapter, then you’ve probably seen a few of the cross-references as well. Let’s take a quick glance at the most relevant one, which I mentioned above:

For since death [came] through a manhere and throughout, (human), raising of [the] dead also [came] through a man; for just as in Adam all [men] die, thus also in Christ all [men] will be made alive.

– 1 Corinthians 15:21-22 (my translation)

Here’s the issue, generally speaking: it may be that what is passed through procreation is merely biological mortality, and not a sinful nature–but from where does our mortality come? Romans 6:23 and James 1:15 tell us that the natural result of sin is death, that death is the just payment for sin. Above, we read that by the sin of Adam, many died, and that grace abounded unto them–but later, we read that we receive grace to accommodate our sin. We see, especially, that through Adam’s sin, the many became sinful–not mortal. Finally, we read that sin ruled in death; so death may have ruled, but sin ruled in it. Which is the greater ruler?

But I grant that it is clear that death comes to us through Adam’s sin. St. Paul makes that plain. But what kind of death is he speaking of? Biological death? Certainly that is the subject in the 1 Corinthians passage, where he is arguing for the resurrection of the dead (that resurrection being one of our bodies after our biological deaths). But here in Romans, where we see this doctrine taking shape, I think he means quite a different death: a spiritual death.

Recall the commandment broken by that first sin: “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die” (Genesis 2:16-17, NRSV). Anyone aiming at interpreting this passage must either deny the physical meaning of “day” or the physical meaning of “death”; the latter makes more sense. Adam and Eve, in their first sin, died a spiritual death; they were separated from God. Thus was Satan able to twist the word of the Lord, saying, “You will not die.” Adam and Eve feared death (or else God’s warning has no power or sense), but they did not grasp the fullness of God’s meaning. (Consider also John 8:51; Romans 8:13; Ephesians 2:1-10; Colossians 2:13; et al.) Of course, this sin resulted in their physical deaths as well, but not on that same day; just as, likewise, our salvation by Christ will result in resurrection from the dead and eternal life, but our spiritual freedom from sin is immediate (Romans 6:15-23).

After all, if original sin is merely biological death, would its cleansing through baptism, the sacraments, the sacrifice of Christ, not make us immortal immediately? But of course we still die physical deaths–for “death is made idle as [the] last hated [one],” being subjected to Christ last of all his enemies (see 1 Corinthians 15:25-26). But dare we say that we are still subject to original sin when we have been set free from every slavery unto the old self? Christ is our master, and no other; physical death is but a temporary inconvenience to the glory of God.

So when St. Paul wrote that “death rules” on account of Adam’s sin, I think it clear he meant spiritual death–that is, corruption. And we shall yet die physically, whether we are saved or not, but those of us who are saved will be resurrected and reign eternally with him, conquering at last physical death and subjecting all under God.

But of course, I am a limited man, and many great minds and saints have debated this question over the millennia, so I trust the authority of the Church on the issue. You may trust what you will.

Next week, I will look at the first of the seven sacraments: baptism. This will work directly with the question of original sin and how the Catholic Church deals with the reality of it. See you then!

Last Post:
The Virtus in Virginity

Next Post:
The Sacraments: Baptism (Part One)

Swimming the Tiber 11: The Virtus in Virginity

Written by Versor on January 9, 2017 · Leave a Comment

The English word “virtue” comes from Latin virtus, literally “manliness.” Of course, in ancient philosophy, there was a transition from simple “manliness” to real virtue (like those I discussed a couple of weeks ago), and then deeper, more complex transitions over time to arrive at the wide range of modern views on virtue and ethics.

But as George Orwell and anyone who has sought to change terms (gender-neutral nouns and pronouns especially, such as “chairperson” or the intentional abandonment of feminine forms like “stewardess”) can tell you, words have power. That’s why I studied classics, why I examine Scripture in the original language (as much as possible), and why I prefer literal translations of texts to “gist” translations. Words are not merely the means by which we convey sentiments or communicate ideas; they are ideas.

Here’s what I mean: For physical things, when words fail, we can point to the physical reality of the object. If I say “apple,” and you don’t know what I’m talking about, I point to an apple. But with abstract things, that’s not possible. Abstract ideas only exist as words. If I say “philosophy,” or “courage,” or “wisdom,” or “virtue,” and you don’t know what I mean, the only way I can clarify it is with more words. Different words, maybe, if I know what I’m talking about, but just words. Even actions based on abstract ideas don’t always communicate those ideas. If, in trying to communicate the virtue of humility, I show a Homeric Grecian a king who washes a fisherman’s feet, he wouldn’t see a virtuous king at all, but a slave, and a particularly lowly one at that. I wouldn’t be communicating humility, I’d be communicating servitude, and it would take many more words to clarify why that servitude is a desirable trait that we call “humility.”

So when we think of “virtue,” we quickly think of manly behaviors. We even perpetuate this mentality in the modern age: “Be a man! Man up!” The idea that manliness is desirable, not just for boys, but as the pinnacle of ethical behavior, is ingrained into the words we use at a more basic level than we consciously understand. The real challenge, then, is not to come up with a Newspeak word for virtue that abandons its old roots, but to change how we understand manliness. Manliness ought only to be desirable insofar as it resembles godliness, especially as exemplified in the God-man. Manliness isn’t Stoicism or Vulcan emotional control or thoughtless decision-making or brash hotheadedness or warmongering; “manliness”–virtue–is living as God intends for us, following the virtues as outlined by God and the Church (which I discussed in some detail a couple weeks ago, like I said).

But here I am going on about virtue and manliness, and I haven’t even mentioned the other topic in my title: virginity. As much as “virtue” has its roots in man, “virgin” has its roots in woman. Virginity, as a concept, is inherently feminine. To speak of a virgin man simply didn’t make sense. (It doesn’t help that male virginity cannot be proved or disproved, whereas female virginity is typically proved by the presence or absence of the hymen.) The word derives from Latin virgo, meaning a young girl or maiden, specifically one unmarried (contrast puella, “girl,” which has no particular connotation of virginity, and which could even mean a young wife). In Greek, the word was παρθένος (parthenos), and because of its meaning, it was given to Athena, the virgin goddess. Hence we call her temple in Athens the Parthenon. (Contrast Greek κόρη, which is basically identical to puella.)

No one used these words to refer to chaste men until Christians did.

Even the English word “virgin” was used about women for a hundred years before it was used about men.

So why do I say that there is virtus, virtue, manliness, in virginity? Because Scripture and Tradition make it clear. Paul’s strongest teaching on virginity comes from 1 Corinthians 6:12-7:40. Let me hit the highlights:

Flee fornication.¹ Every error which a person does is outside the body; but the [one] fornicating errs into his own body. Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the holy spirit in you, whom² [you] have from God, and [you] are not your own?³

1 Corinthians 6:18-19 (my translation)

But about [the things] which [you] wrote, [it is] beautiful for a man not to have intercourse with⁴ a woman; but on account of fornications, let each [man] have his own wife and let each [woman] have her own husband….But I say this [thing] according to an allowance, not according to a command. But⁵ [I] wish that all persons be even as myself; but each [man] has his own grace from God, the [one] thus, the other thus.

1 Corinthians 7:1-2, 6-7 (my translation)

But about virgins I do not have a command of [the] lord, but I give a thought to be faithful as the [one] being pitied by [the] lord. Therefore I acknowledge this to be [from the beginning] beautiful on account of the compulsion having been put in place, because [it is] beautiful for a man to be thus. [Thou] have been bound to a woman, do not seek a release; [thou] have been released from a woman, do not seek a woman. But if [thou] marry [on a particular occasion], [thou] did not err, and if a virgin marries, [she] did not err; but the [ones] such as these will have affliction for the flesh, but I am sparing you. But [I] say this, brothers, the time is drawn together;⁶ for the remainder, both the [ones] having wives be just as the [ones] not having [them] and the [ones] wailing just as the [ones] not wailing and the [ones] rejoicing just as the [ones] not rejoicing and the [ones] buying just as the [ones] not possessing, and the [ones] using the cosmos just as the [ones] not using [it] up;⁷ for the form of this cosmos is passing by. But [I] wish that you be unconcerned. The unmarried [man] cares about the [things] of the lord, how [he] may please the lord; but the [man] having been married cares about the [things] of the cosmos, how [he] may please the wife, and [he] has been divided. Both the woman (the unmarried [one]) and the virgin care about the [things] of the lord, in order that [she] may be holy both in body and in spirit; but the [woman] having been married cares about the [things] of the cosmos, how [she] may please the husband. But this [I] say toward the benefit of you yourselves, not in order that [I] may cast a noose upon you, but toward the decent [thing] and [toward] constant attendance to the lord undistractedly.

1 Corinthians 7:25-35 (my translation)

What’s the message here? That to abstain from marriage is a good thing, not because marriage is bad, but because serving the Lord is better. The temporal passes away, but the eternal does not; marriage is a temporal good, devotion to the Lord an eternal one. The married man is like Martha, concerned with what people will eat and where they will sit and how to get through the day, but the unmarried man, the one wholly devoted to God, is like Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus growing closer to Him (cf. Luke 10:38-42).

Of course, marriage is still good. It can bring us closer to God, especially if we struggle with temptation (another verse in that chapter of 1 Corinthians says that we should marry so that we do not burn with passion; I think the play on words with burning is obvious). It is through marriage that we obey the very first commandment ever given to man by God: “Be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:28).

But the good of virginity goes beyond the good of marriage. Marriage is wonderful, mysterious, delightful, productive, and, admittedly, difficult. The striving and the joy make us better people. But virginity allows people to dedicate themselves to God in a way that married people cannot. You can spend your entire life devoted to that one single purpose–knowing God–with no distractions.

There is also a long association of virginity and purity; after all, before marriage, anyone truly virginal is pure and chaste. In that way, virginity embodies the perfect vision of Christ for His Church: that she be pure and perfect, prepared for the marriage-feast with Him (cf. Deuteronomy 31:16-22; 1 Chronicles 5:25; Psalm 24:1-6; Jeremiah 5:7-9; the entire Book of Hosea, especially Hosea 1; 3; 4; Matthew 25:1-13; Luke 20:34-36; and 2 Corinthians 11:2-3). For we say that the Church is the Bride of Christ (Matthew 9:14-15; Revelation 19:7-10; 21; 22:17).

So there is tremendous virtue in virginity. Besides the obvious development of self-control and devotion to the Lord, it represents the very relationship of Christ and the Church, the anticipatory moment, the time of preparation for His coming. The virgins of the Church help make her ready. Even more than that, virginity devoted to God represents the time after the wedding-feast, our eternal life, when everything we do is devoted to God, to praising and worshiping Him.

In the same way, marriage represents both that embrace of Christ and His Bride and also the unitive and procreative love within the Godhead, but remember this: in the resurrection, we neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are fully devoted to God. Virginity is more virtuous, not because marriage is in any way poor or weak, but because the dedicated virgin is getting a head start on eternal life with the Lord.

Next time on Swimming the Tiber, I’m going to examine the question of original sin. Some Protestants hold to this, others don’t, and even those that do have differing interpretations of what it means. That discussion will launch us into an examination of the seven sacraments, so get excited!

Last Post:
Judging Your Sins

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That Death May Die

Back to the passages
Footnotes:
¹This Greek word, πορνεία, is one of the roots of our word “pornography,” which literally means a drawing or writing of fornication.
²This relative pronoun should be accusative (as “whom” in English), but it has been attracted to the case of its antecedent (“the holy spirit”), and so it is technically genitive (as “whose” in English). The sense does not change.
³Cf. 1 Corinthians 3:16; 2 Corinthians 6:16. Some manuscripts have this third clause as a separate sentence, ending the question after “from God.”
⁴This verb can mean simply “to touch,” but literally means “to fasten” or “to join” two objects together, and so in context, it clearly means to “join” with a woman (and is used that way in more places than just this passage).
⁵Some manuscripts: “For”
⁶This is a passive periphrastic form; that is, it uses a participle (“drawn together”) with a form of εἶμι (to be), in this case ἐστίν (“is”) to create this phrase. The point of using a periphrastic form instead of the regular form συνέσταλται is to emphasize the current state of affairs (that the time is short) rather than the action (that something shortened the time).
⁷As elsewhere, this is a reversal in idiom; this verb literally means to use down. In English, we say that we use something up, but in Greek, they use it down.