Showing posts with label Apologetics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Apologetics. Show all posts

Thursday, August 16, 2018

The Mass as a Sacrifice


One of the greatest difficulties Protestants have with the Catholic Church is the teaching that the Mass is a propitiatory sacrifice.  The Church does teach that the Mass is a real and true sacrifice, a sacrifice which propitiates for sins because it is the sacrifice of Christ who alone can make propitiation for sins.  The idea that the Mass is a propitiatory sacrifice is offensive to Protestants for three primary reasons.  First, it seems to suggest that Christ’s offering on the cross was insufficient to save us from our sins.  Second, because Christ is the victim in the sacrifice of the Mass, it seems to require Him to die again and again.  Finally, another difficulty Protestants have is that the Scriptures clearly teach that Christ was sacrificed once for all (Heb 7:25-27, 9:24-26, 10:10-14). One thing to consider about this last objection is that the phrase ‘once for all’ is a shortened statement of one of two things. It could either mean once for all time, or it could mean once for all people. The phrase itself doesn't specify.  In fact, the adverb used here does not actually say once for all, but simply 'once.' Translators put "for all" in  to clarify the statement, but it is really reading into the text.  Nevertheless, it is still a troubling point for most Protestants. 

Bishop Fulton Sheen, a popular televangelist of the 1960s and 1970s, once said that there were not one hundred people in America who hated the Catholic religion, but there were countless who hated what they mistakenly thought the Catholic religion to be.  If Catholicism really were what these people thought it was, he pointed out, Catholics would hate it too.  This statement is especially significant here.  Each of these objections is founded on a misunderstanding of what the Catholicism teaches about the Mass.  This misunderstanding is that the Mass is a different sacrifice from the cross.  In fact, it is not.  The Mass is understood to be the very same sacrifice of the cross re-presented in a different manner:

“[Christ], our Lord and God, was once and for all to offer himself to God the Father by his death on the altar of the cross, to accomplish there an everlasting redemption.  But because his priesthood was not to end with his death, at the Last Supper “on the night when he was betrayed,” [he wanted] to leave to his beloved spouse the Church a visible sacrifice (as the nature of man demands) by which the bloody sacrifice which he was to accomplish once and for all on the cross would be re-presented, its memory perpetuated until the end of the world, and its salutary power be applied to the forgiveness of the sins we daily commit.”(Council of Trent Session 22, Chapter 1)

“And since in this divine sacrifice which is celebrated in the Mass, the same Christ who offered himself once in a bloody manner on the altar of the cross is contained and offered in an unbloody manner, the holy Synod teaches… this sacrifice is truly propitiatory….  The victim is one and the same: the same now offers through the ministry of priests, who then offered himself on the cross; only the manner of offering is different.”(Council of Trent Session 22, Chapter 2)

There are many other important things to consider in these quotations.  One is that the sacrifice of the Mass exists because Christ’s priesthood was not to end with his death.  This is a point which is explained by Hebrews 7:23-24:

The former priests were many in number, because they were prevented by death from continuing in office, but he holds his priesthood permanently, because he continues forever. 

Another point is that the Mass is an unbloody sacrifice: Christ does not die again in the sacrifice. Most people tend to think of a sacrifice as a death, as though it is the death of the sacrificial victim which constitutes a sacrifice.  Therefore, it is common for the sacrifice of Christ to be reduced to His death alone.  However, the death of the victim is only the first part of a sacrifice, with the presentation of the sacrifice being the second, more important, part. If an Old Covenant priest had slain an animal and then failed to present it to God, there would have been no sacrifice.  Christ's sacrifice was presented to the Father when His risen body ascended into Heaven, and is continually presented so long as Christ is there in Heaven with the Father. The death of Christ was in our time, but the presentation is not and can not be by definition. 

Simply by being present in Heaven, Christ is presenting Himself to the Father. Hebrews 9:24 makes reference to this, saying, “For Christ has entered… into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God on our behalf.”  This is why the book of Hebrews says that Christ “is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them.” (7:25)  This intercession is not a different work from the sacrifice. It can't be, because that would mean that His sacrifice was not sufficient. Protestant commentators stress this point.  The intercessory work of Christ is not a different work from His sacrifice; it is part of the sacrifice.  It is the eternal presentation of Christ before the Father. This appearing as a perpetual presentation is so that He can perpetually be propitiation for our sins, as 1 John 2:1-2 says.
 
My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.

The verb 'is' here in “He is propitiation” is in the present tense, meaning that Jesus is currently the propitiation. Protestant Greek commentators are often very perplexed by this because they cannot understand how Christ could currently be propitiation, since Protestant theology understands Christ’s sacrifice on the cross to be the only propitiation for sins.  It is correct to understand Christ’s sacrifice as the only propitiation for sins.  However, it is incorrect to understand the death on the cross to in and of itself be the sacrifice.  It is because Christ’s sacrifice consists of both the death on the cross and His eternal presentation to the Father that John can write that He is currently the propitiation for sins. 

The eternality of Christ’s presentation is made clear by other Scriptures as well.  As was already cited, Hebrews 9:24 says that Christ “now” appears in the presence of God “on our behalf.”  There is the ongoing work of intercession in Hebrews 7:25, intercession which is a part of His sacrificial work.  In Revelation 5:6, He is depicted as “a lamb, standing as though slain.  He is in Heaven a slain lamb, a sacrificial victim, yet He is standing because He is risen.  Heaven is not bound by time, it is in eternity. Hence, elsewhere in Revelation He is called the "lamb slain before the foundation of the world" (Rev. 13:8).  The reason John can say He was slain before the foundation of the world even though He clearly died at a given moment in the first century is because His sacrifice is an eternal one, a sacrifice which is in its Heavenly part (the presentation) present in eternity.  For this reason, men like Moses and Elijah, who appeared at the transfiguration, could be saved even though Christ had not yet died.  The propitiation of Christ’s sacrifice is eternally present in Heaven and thus was efficacious even for men living before the incarnation.  Hebrews 4:3 works along the same theme, stating that God's works were completed "from the foundation of the world." The Mass is no more contradicting the once for all nature of Christ's offering than His earthly death on the cross was contradicting the fact that God's work was already done before the foundation of the world, and that Christ was already slain before the foundation of the world.

Reading Hebrews 9:24-26 in this context, the nature of Christ’s sacrifice becomes much clearer:

For Christ has entered, not into holy places made with hands, which are copies of the true things, but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God on our behalf. Nor was it to offer himself repeatedly, as the high priest enters the holy places every year with blood not his own, for then he would have had to suffer repeatedly since the foundation of the world. But as it is, he has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.

It is the suffering which occurred once for all, never to be repeated. Christ's once for all offering, however, is perpetual and eternal. In fact, it could even be said that the reason it is once for all is because it is eternal; one cannot repeat something which has no beginning and no end.  Given all of the statements the Scriptures make concerning the eternality of Christ’s presentation, it is clear that Hebrews cannot possibly mean that Christ's offering was a one time, momentary act.  Rather, it is the suffering which was a one time and momentary occurrence, which is why the writer to the Hebrews explicitly states that Christ’s suffering would have been required to happen again were He to be sacrificed again.

When the writer to the Hebrews speaks of the offering in this passage, he is referring specifically to the high priest having to go in and out of the Holy of Holies. That is why he writes, "Nor was it to offer himself repeatedly, as the high priest enters the holy places every year with blood not his own." That is also another reason why he emphasizes the suffering so much. When sacrifices were made in the Old Covenant, the priest would slaughter the animal outside of the Holy of Holies and then enter into it. It was by the blood of this slaughtered animal that the priest could enter the Holy of Holies, so if Christ were to go in and out of the Heavenly Holy of Holies, He would have to suffer each time, but He does not, because "he entered once for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves but by means of his own blood" Once Christ is in the Holy of Holies, His presence before the Father is the presentation of the sacrifice to the Father.   The actual killing of the animal in the Old Covenant was only part of the sacrifice - the other part was the presentation, which Jesus accomplished at the Ascension.

The Mass is a Sacrifice because it re-presents that eternal sacrifice by making it present on the altar of the Church.  The Sacrifice of the Mass is simply the ongoing, eternal offering of Christ in Heaven.  Hebrews is such an important book in terms of the Mass because it was written to explain the superiority of the New Testament sacrifice to the old sacrifices, and in chapter 8 it provides further insight into the nature of the Mass:

Now the point in what we are saying is this: we have such a high priest, one who is seated at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in heaven, a minister in the holy places, in the true tent that the Lord set up, not man. For every high priest is appointed to offer gifts and sacrifices; thus it is necessary for this priest also to have something to offer. (1-3)

Even though He is sitting down, Christ is still a minister. He is still offering that one sacrifice which is made once for all; otherwise He would no longer be a minister. In fact, the passage makes this clear by stating that it is necessary for Him to have something to offer.  Just like ‘is’ in 1 John 2:2, the verb ‘have’ is present tense, meaning it is currently occurring: Christ currently must have something to offer. (If He had only had something to offer at one time, an aorist or more likely a perfect tense would have been used.) This passage teaches that Christ's offering is going on even now, and that He is still ministering at the Heavenly altar.  It is this present offering which is made at the altar at the Mass. This is the altar Hebrews refers to in saying, “we have an altar from which those who serve the tent have no right to eat.” (13:10)  This reference to the priests of the Old Covenant having no right to eat at this altar shows that the writer had in mind an earthly altar on which this sacrifice was presented.  He could not have meant, by referring to eating from this altar, to be speaking symbolically of spiritually receiving Christ or the salvation His sacrifice earned, because these priests had as much a right to receive these things as those who were receiving them.  All persons have as the same right to salvation through Christ.  (In fact as Christians we understand that nobody has a right to salvation, but nonetheless all who come to Christ in faith may receive it).  There truly is an altar which Christians alone may eat from, and this is the altar of the Mass.  

The only text that still may seem problematic for the doctrine of the Mass is Hebrews 10:10-14:

And by that will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. And every priest stands daily at his service, offering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God, waiting from that time until his enemies should be made a footstool for his feet. For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified.

Some believe that because this passage teaches that Christ is sitting and waiting, He cannot be offering an eternal sacrifice as the doctrine of the Mass teaches.  However, as has been pointed out, Christ presents Himself to the Father simply by being present in Heaven.  In fact, He could not be in Heaven and without presenting Himself to the Father, because He is there in eternity as a slain lamb (Rev 13:8). 

The problem with verse 14 is that it doesn't translate into English well at all. The Greek text says, literally, “For by a single offering He has perfected into continuity the being sanctified.” The Greek word that is translated in most Bibles as "those who are being sanctified" is αγιαζομενους (agiazomenous), a present passive participle. It is a verb form being used as a noun substantive. The actual word doesn't actually include ‘those’ or ‘the ones’ or anything of that sort. It is translated into English with those words added so that it makes sense in English. The Greek language uses participles like this quite often, but they do not translate well.  In the original language, the verse says only that the process of being sanctified is perfect. Αγιαζομενους, the being sanctified, is in the accusative case, which means that it is the object of the verb ‘perfected.’ However, the verb 'perfected' does not apply to the "those who are" or "the ones who are"; it only applies to "the being sanctified," the process of sanctification which is applied to the ‘those.’  This is taught by Hebrews because in the Old Covenant, a person could offer all the proper sacrifices for sins, they could do everything they were required to and the process could fail because it was imperfect. This verse teaches that the process now is perfect thanks to the sacrifice of Christ and will not fail as long as a person remains in the process. This is perfect given that overall theme of Hebrews of the superiority of the New Covenant sacrifice over the sacrifices of the Old Covenant.

That the Mass is a re-presentation of the eternal sacrifice of Christ is also evident from the Last Supper accounts.  The last supper was the Passover meal. Passover meals, then as now, had a very specific "program." This would involve the reading of particular Scriptures, singing of particular hymns, and the consecration and drinking of four cups of wine. The Gospels record this meal progressing as normal. The third cup was the one Christ raised and said, "This is the New Covenant in my blood."(Luk 22:20) This can be seen by studying the gospel accounts and because Paul refers to the cup of the Lord's Supper as "the cup of blessing" in the first letter to the Corinthians (10:16), which was the name given to the third cup of the Passover meal. After this, the Passover called for the singing of a hymn (called the Great Hallel, which consists of Psalms 114-118) before drinking from the fourth cup, which was called the "cup of consummation."

However, Jesus didn't drink from the fourth cup. Instead, the gospels say that after blessing the third cup, Jesus specifically said He was not going to drink wine again until He did so “anew in the Kingdom of God.” (Mark 14:25)  Immediately after this it says that "when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives." (25) This would have been a major defect in the Passover meal, not a minor omission.  The fourth cup was so important that the Passover meal was not complete until it was drunk.  After this, in Gethsemane, Jesus asks the Father to let the cup pass from Him (Matthew 26:39). When a no doubt very thirsty Jesus was offered wine while carrying the cross up to the mountain, He refused (Mark 15:23).  Jesus finally drank vinegar (a type of wine) from the hyssop branch and said "it is consummated" at the moment of His death. The ‘it’ meant the Passover meal. That Passover meal which He had began the previous night and never finished He was now complete.  It could not have ended until then, because the fourth cup of wine had yet to be drunk. 

The sacrifice was not begun on Calvary. Calvary began with the Passover and the Passover ended with Calvary (see A Father who Keeps His Promises, Scott Hahn, Servant Books 1998, p. 234; a more thorough analysis of the above facts is also available therein) This ties together a number of items which pertain to the Last Supper and its having been a Mass. 

First is the sacrificial language Jesus used during the Last Supper.  The Greek word translated ‘remembrance’ in Luke 22 and 1 Corinthians 11 is anamnesis, which has great sacrificial overtones. There are at least 9 other Greek words for ‘remembrance’ which could have been used, however this sacrificial word was chosen instead.  In fact, anamnesis can literally mean ‘memorial sacrifice’; it is used this way in the Greek Old Testament and is often translated this way in English Bibles.  Hebrews 10:3, where it is also used in a sacrificial context, is the only place in which the word is used in the New Testament: "But in these sacrifices there is a reminder of sin every year." The passage would actually make much more sense if anamnesis were  translated as it is in the Old Testament here, so that it would read: "But in these is a memorial sacrifice for sin every year." In fact, in the original Greek it does not say "but in those sacrifices," because the word ‘sacrifices’ is not in the text.  It is added because without it the passage makes no sense in English.  Rendering the word consistently here cleans up the passage immediately, cutting the need for translators to add words to Scripture.  The Greek word for "do" used in these passages, ‘poiein,’ is also a word with sacrificial overtones, used over 75 times in the Old Testament to mean ‘offer.’ It would be a completely accurate translation of 1 Corinthians 11:23 (and Luke 22:19) to render Jesus' words as "offer this as a memorial sacrifice of me," and in fact, Jewish readers who were very familiar with the Septuagint would very likely have understood it this way.

Second is the Jewish understanding of the Passover meal. Many Jewish traditions believed that those who were eating the Passover were not simply remembering the first Passover, but were literally taking part in the literal, one time event of the first Passover. They were understood to be literally taking part in the Exodus as if they were there themselves in Egypt following Moses to the promised land.  This is extremely interesting because the redemption is extremely parallel to the Exodus. There are countless parallels. This is because the Exodus from physical bondage was a foreshadowing of the true Exodus from spiritual bondage that is found in Jesus Christ.
  Jesus is called the Lamb of God because He is the Passover lamb that was sacrificed to save the firstborn from death.  When a person enters into Christ through baptism, he or she becomes a child of God (Mat. 5:9, 5:45, Luk 6:35, 20:36, John 12:36, Rom. 8:14-15, 8:23, 9:26, 2 Cor 6:18, Gal. 3:26, 4:5-6, Heb. 12:7-8)  The paschal sacrifice of the lamb saved the lives of the firstborn of the people of God during the first Passover, and now the sacrifice of the Lamb of God saves the lives of all children of God.

There are many other parallels as well.  Like the Passover lamb, Christ was to be without blemish (Ex 12:5 / Heb 9:14).  The Passover lamb was examined on the 14th day of Nisan to ensure that it was unblemished, and Christ was examined on the 14th day of Nisan with no fault being found in Him (Luke 23:4,14; John 18:38; 19:4,6)  The Passover lambs’ bones were not to be broken, just as Christ’s bones were not broken (Ex 12:46, Num. 9:12 / John 19:36)  The blood of the Passover lamb was put on the posts of the Israelite’s doors, and the blood of Christ was put on the post of the cross. (Ex 12:7)  There are other parallels beyond this, and many other connections that are not strictly parallel.  For instance, it was a hyssop branch that was to be used to spread the blood of the Passover lamb, and it was a hyssop branch that was used to give Jesus a drink of wine on the cross (Ex 12:22 / John 19:29).
  
Other traditional Jewish aspects of the Passover were also incorporated into the sacrifice of Christ and the Last Supper.  One example is the breaking of the Afikoman, which is the second of three cakes of unleavened bread which were eaten during the Passover meal.  In many Jewish traditions, the bottom cake was understood to represent Abraham, the top cake to represent Jacob, and the middle cake, the Afikoman, to represent Isaac.  While God stopped Abraham from sacrificing his son Isaac, (Gen 22:10-12) the Father Himself did allow His son to be sacrificed.  It was the Afikoman that would have been broken during the Passover celebration when Christ broke bread, saying, “This is my body which is given for you.” (Luke 22:19)  The Mass extends this parallel, because just as the Afikoman was broken and all would eat a piece of the one bread during the Passover, so too is the Eucharist, the body of Christ, broken and given to all to eat during the Mass.  In fact, the parallel between the sacrifice of Christ and the Passover makes it necessary that Christians eat of Christ’s body, because the Passover lamb was required to be eaten by all after its sacrifice and no part left over. (Ex 12:8-10, 34:25, Num. 9:12)  Therefore Paul writes, “Christ our Passover lamb is sacrificed for us: therefore let us keep the feast...” (1 Cor 5:7-8)
 
Jesus' sacrifice began at the Last Supper, and was the eternal Passover sacrifice that can be experienced today through a literal participation at the sacrifice of the Mass, just as the ancient Jews literally participated in the Exodus by their Passover meal. The Last Supper was the first Mass in which Christ first made present on Earth His eternal sacrifice.  (More information on the Last Supper being the beginning of Christ’s sacrifice can be found here.)

God Bless,


Shane Coombs 2006


Friday, March 11, 2011

Do Earthquakes Like Japan's Suggest the End of the World?

Matthew's Gospel reads:

As he sat on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately, saying, “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the close of the age?”  And Jesus answered them, “Take heed that no one leads you astray.  For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am the Christ,’ and they will lead many astray.  And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars; see that you are not alarmed; for this must take place, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines and earthquakes in various places: all this is but the beginning of the birth-pangs. (Matt. 24:3-8)
The common interpretation is that Jesus was giving us signs to look for as harbingers of the end of the world. I don’t think that this is correct.
For one, it would be very inconsistent with His firm, explicit instructions from the same discourse not to worry about or to look for when the end is coming. In fact, in this quoted passage, He actually seems to be cautioning His listeners that reading into these kinds of events can lead one astray.
However, another interpretation of His words exists which is consistent with these messages, namely, one could understand the passage such that Jesus is telling His disciples precisely that these kinds of events are not signs of the end. Remember, He is speaking here to a group of mainly Jews living in an age and with a theological outlook wherein every negative event was taken as a sign of God’s anger. These are the people who asked Jesus whose sin was responsible for a man’s blindness, and who assumed that the fall of the tower in Siloam was yet another punishment. Moreover, He knows that within a generation the terrible disasters of Nero and the destruction of the Temple were to come. It is this people to whom He’s trying to give His message not to see the end of the world behind every falling rock or crashing tower and so be led astray.
Thus, it seems probable to me that His message was, rather than that the terrible events He lists are signs of the end, that they are just simply everyday events which will happen time and time again as the years carry on. “Over the thousands of years until my return,” He says in a sense, “there will be many earthquakes, wars, and famines. These are normal. They don’t mean the end is near.”
And indeed history has been filled with wars, famines, earthquakes, hurricanes, and other such events, and there will be more in the future. I have seen claims there more occurring now than in the past. I don't have the data to evaluate that claim, but if it is true, so what? Geology and climatology are defined by long cycles of increased and decreased activity. If we are in a cycle of increased activity, all the more reason to pray and be vigilant that we may be ready when Christ calls us by name and demands of us an accounting – but no reason to read in these things that the end is near. I dare say Christ told us not to.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

The Philosophy of Gender

As part of a discussion, I have been prompted to write a post regarding the philosophy of gender. That is, what is the masculine, and what is the feminine? Let us begin by distinguishing between gender and sex.

First, gender and sex are not the same thing. Sex is biological. The sex of a person identifies the person as male or female - testicles or ovaries. Now the way the terms are normally used today, sex and gender are both understood to refer to this biological classification. What's important here is what we mean here in discussing gender, rather than what the words may mean in the dictionary, or philosophically, or whatever else.

Gender - as we're using the word here - refers to a person's quality of being masculine or feminine. Now consider how we think about masculinity. What makes a thing masculine? Typically, people associate the masculine with men, and the feminine with women. They define the terms on the basis of males and females. Things are said to be masculine insofar as they are like, or related to, men. Things are called feminine if they are like, or related to, women. Now this makes sense, and it's entirely consistent with the way most of us have grown up thinking. It's just obvious, right?

Well, if we think about it, we will realize one very important hidden assumption in this way of thinking. Namely, this definition is based upon the idea that the biological distinction between men and women is a primary characteristic of existence. In other words, in calling things masculine or feminine based on whether things are reminiscent or related to men or women, we're implicitly asserting that the distinction between men and women is something upon which other things can be based. That doesn't mean everything can be based on this distinction, but that at least some things can be - namely, those things which are called masculine or feminine.

At first glance, this seems fine. However, there's a real problem here when we consider God. God is called "He," after all. God calls Himself "He" in the Scriptures. Now God is not a male. First of all, God is spirit - He has no biology! Second, God created maleness and femaleness. So God is not male, but rather, He is masculine. That God is masculine is something that the monotheistic religions agree on. In other words, it's not controversial. It's a pretty well established fact. Yet if God is masculine, and masculinity is based upon men, well then we obviously have yet another problem, because first, we have already recalled that God created maleness, and He cannot be based upon something He created for He existed "before" He created it, and because second, that would make God dependent upon and defined by something, which He, the eternal Almighty, the uncaused cause, the one necessary existing thing, is not.

The reality is that masculinity and femininity are not defined by that which is male or that which is female. Rather, masculinity and femininity are based, in some way, upon God. Yet God is masculine, not feminine. In this we seem to have another problem, for how can we establish what is feminine if that which it is based upon is masculine?

The solution to this problem, and the answer which really gives us what we need to fully understand this issue, is that gender is relational. It is a matter of the relation between things. Let's simply forget about the words "masculine" and "feminine" for a moment, and simply consider God. God is God. Everything else is not. The important relation here is between that which is not God, and that which is. Now let's replace our term, recalling that we call God masculine. That which is not God, then, we can call feminine. Note here that we're dealing with relations, not identities. This is a very important distinction, because it's the difference between saying that men are gods and women are not - not something that we're trying to do! Smiley

Therefore, let's consider the relations between God and that which is not. How does God relate to that which is not? We could certainly list perhaps an infinite number of items, but let's keep it simple for now. First, God is separate from that which is not God. He is apart from it, not a part of it. In other words, God is not in creation, but "stands" apart from it. Second, God enters into that which is not God to effect His purposes. He has to do this, obviously, if He is to interact with creation, for we just recognized that He is not a part of or in it. That is, God enters into creation, either as the Holy Spirit acts in the world or as the Second Person of the Trinity became Incarnate and so literally united to creation.

We could go deeper, but let's stick with these basic relations for now. Not only are these simple ideas, but if we think about it they are really two very fundamental aspects of the relationship on which other ideas can be built. Now these relations can be expressed by the terms immanent and eminent (or transcendent). The quality of eminence or transcendence is the quality of being apart from a thing, being beyond it. We often speak of God as transcendent, and by this we mean that He is beyond the world; God transcends creation. The quality of immanence refers to being in or with something. I am immanent to creation, for I am a part of it.

These are the two basic concepts we want to keep in mind as we discuss the relation of gender. Recalling that God is masculine and Not God feminine, apply these ideas and then consider the relations between men and women. When we considered God, we focused on two of the more obvious and important relations between He and Creation. Where men and women are concerned, let us consider what may be the most obvious important relations between them: the creation of new life through their union. We see here very similar ideas regarding immanence and eminence that we saw with God. In that ultimate of human relations, procreation, man is really apart from the "creation," that is, the baby. He enters into the woman from without and accomplishes His purpose, the fertilization of her egg, that is, the "creation" of new life. The woman, on the other hand, is with the child. Throughout the entire process she is always, in a very important sense, connected to the child, one with the child. The child is in a real way truly a part of her. The man is beyond the child, while the woman is with the child, and the child in the woman.

It is important here to make a realization: if the feminine is the Not God to the masculine's God, then in their relation to one another, women are like femininity, and men are like masculinity. As God relates to creation, He is eminent to it. As man relates to a newly created child, he is eminent to it. Now creation is really immanent to itself, just as woman is immanent to the child. This is the real meaning of masculinity and femininity, at least in the sense in which we say that we are all feminine to God, and in the sense that we are the bride of Christ, and so forth: the masculine is that which is eminent, and the feminine, immanent.

In fact, we can see some extremely interesting examples of this throughout history. Consider pagan religions, which worshiped idols. The gods of the pagans were immanent: they were a part of the world, not transcending it. It is no coincidence at all that the pagans almost always had priestesses. Their gods were immanent, and so their sacrifices were offered by women, that is, by the feminine. The Jews, who worshiped an eminent God, had priests to offer sacrifice. They had men, who are eminent in their human relationships, to offer to their eminent God.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Why Have Faith in a God We Cannot See?

In a recent conversation, the following question was posed:

"Why are we called to be *faithful*?

....

Faith in the unseen is central to Christianity.

In a sense, it is also central to science, as we scientists proceed by believing that
the world is rational and, by experimentation, we will find the hidden laws that
govern this universe.

Yet, what I don't comprehend is:

Why are we asked to believe in a Person, with whom we cannot have an explicit, clear, obvious conversation. Any relationship - professional, friendship, love - starts by establishing a clear line of communication. I can trust my best friend because I know him; I have talked to him, listened to his opinion and had lunch with him many times.

Unfortunately I do not hear the voice of God in an unambiguous manner.
I can possibly attribute some of my feelings to His voice, but can never be 100% sure. This is an almost insurmountable obstacle to my journey.

In other words, things would be immensely simpler if God's voice were audible
by all in a clear, unambiguous fashion.

What do you think? I am curious to hear your thoughts!"


My response is as follows:


Davide, thanks for starting the discussion.

I like the fact that you began by pointing out that faith is necessary for science in a certain sense. I think this is a very important, and often overlooked point. It is also a point which can lead us into a greater understanding of the question that you posed. Let us consider this notion of faith in science for a moment.

As you said, the scientists must began with the assumption that the world is rational and can be understood. To this, I would add that the scientist must believe that his senses, and indeed the senses of all other scientists, accurately depict this rational world. In other words, when the scientist's eyes report to him that a frog is green, he must believe that the frog actually *is* green. Considering this, we see that there are actually a number of beliefs at play here: the belief that the scientist's eyes accurately capture the frog, the belief that the scientist's nerves accurately transmit the information captured by the eyes, and the belief that the scientist's brain accurately processes and interprets the information received by the nerves. The scientist must also believe that this is true of all other scientists, for his work is based upon theirs, and so if there is any problem in how any of these other scientists gather and process information, then the information that he receives from them would be inaccurate. Thus, I suppose we could add to our list the need to believe that those processes which package and transmit information *out* of the scientist are just as accurate as those which gather and process the information.

Now when we think about this, we can even extend these concerns to the everyday. Whether one is a scientist or not, each person must believe that the world is rational and that the human processes of interacting with the world are rational and are accurate. We see then that we all believe in a great many things, and indeed we all accept these things on nothing more than faith, for they are not verifiable because of the fact that any attempt to verify them would rely upon the very system that we are seeking to verify.

If, then, we are to have any real basis for science, or for anything else for that matter, it is necessary that we rely upon something outside of the system. However, in this case the system is the world itself; it is not possible to examine the system from the outside. If only it were possible to approach the system from the outside, then we could have greater confidence in a great many things, but it is not.

Given the dead end that we have arrived at, let us now turn from this consideration of science to consider the other side of the issue, religion. Whereas science is that endeavor in which man observes the world around him so as to understand it, religion is that endeavor in which man seeks to interact with that which is beyond the world around him. That is, science is concerned with the natural, religion with the supernatural. While there are many differences between the two, perhaps the biggest, or most obvious, pertains to how one knows anything in each. The scientist seeks out knowledge, observing, experimenting, and analyzing. In religion, there is none of this, because religion is not concerned with anything which *can* be observed or analyzed. As has already been stated, science concerns itself with nature - the world around us - while religion concerns itself with the *supernatural* - that which is beyond the world. In religion, man does not observe, but rather, he receives revelation: the supernatural is revealed to humanity.

CS Lewis addresses this point in a helpful way. He says to consider a man who is studying a rock. That rock can do nothing to reveal itself to the man, and the man must do all of the work in coming to understand the rock. Moving up the chain, Mr. Lewis says, we come to something like a bacterium. Still, the man must do almost all of the work in understanding the bacterium, which can do hardly much more than the rock to explain itself. Now if the man were to study something greater than a bacterium, such as an insect, the insect could do perhaps slightly more than the bacterium, but still most of the work is on the man's part. As we move up the chain, the ability of the studied to reveal itself to the studier increases, and the amount of work the man needs to do decreases. In fact, the amount of work the man *is able to do* also decreases. So, when the man studies a dog, there is some degree to which the dog must cooperate if the man is to understand it. If the dog does not wish to be examined, the he may bite the man. When we get to another human being, we find that nearly equal work must be done on the part of the student and the studied. If I wish to get to know you, Davide, you must cooperate to a large degree. I cannot know all but some of the most superficial details of your life if you do not wish to cooperate, and if you do not reveal things about yourself to me. Now, what if the man wished to learn about something *greater* than himself, such as an angel? Now we find that the angel must do a great deal of the work, and the man's capabilities for actively studying have diminished a great deal. Ultimately, this chain ends with God, and when it comes to God, the man can do *nothing* to know God, just as he had to do *everything* to understand the rock. God must do everything, and here we find revelation: God reveals Himself to man so that man may know him.

When we approach things this way, we see that the whole concept of revelation makes a fair bit of sense. If God is a higher form of life than me, then of course He will need to reveal Himself to me, rather than my observing and studying Him, and this thought is all the more profound when we realize that the difference between a human being and God is infinitely more than the difference between a human being and an insect or a rock. Revelation is, by all logic, necessary if we are to know anything about a being that is greater than us, like God. Of course, God has revealed Himself to us, and so we do have some knowledge of Him.

Given this, let us return to the questions of understanding the world, for something has changed. We are no longer at a dead end in our thinking, for indeed we now have something which we did not before: input from outside of the system. In God's revelation to us, we have knowledge which is *not* within the system of the world, and we can use this knowledge to help overcome our previous problem. God has revealed that He is rational, and He has further revealed that He created us with rationality. Further, God does not reveal Himself, per se, through those things which must be observed and so catch us in a cycle of circular reasoning. Rather, He reveals Himself to us, by Grace, in our inner being. In other words, He does not reveal Himself through obtained knowledge, but through infused knowledge. Certainly, we do find God revealing us in ways we can observe - through the Scriptures, for example - but ultimately, each individual's knowledge of Him is not based upon any of these things, but upon His own personal work in the soul of the individual. Many read the Bible, while only some believe. Many study the historical reliability of the story of Christ, while only some come to faith. The difference is in God's interaction with the inner soul of the individual. These external things are only ancillary to that. We now have reason to trust our eyes and our lobes, and a basis on which to believe that the frog is green - so long as we believe in God.

But alas! So fast as our problem seems to have been solved, we are confronted with another which is even greater than the first! Before, we could not be certain of our observations of the world, and then we came to see that thanks to God's self-revelation to us, these observations had been given a foundation. Now, we find that that foundation relies again on belief - this time, not a belief in our nerves or the fundamental rationality of the world, but in God. This problem is worse because we realize that even if there were in fact something outside of the system containing God which could give us foundation to believe in Him, then we would have to believe in *that,* and so on and so on, ad infinitum.

We see that belief is necessary. We cannot function without it. Ultimately, we will have to believe in *something.* The question is about what we choose to believe in. Given this, let us consider St. Thomas' Aquinas' treatment of belief. The question is posed, 'Can the object of faith be something seen?' That is, is it possible to have faith in something which one can observe? Thomas replies:


"I answer that, Faith implies assent of the intellect to that which is believed. Now the intellect assents to a thing in two ways. First, through being moved to assent by its very object, which is known either by itself(as in the case of first principles, which are held by the habit of understanding), or through something else already known (as in the case of conclusions which are held by the habit of science. Secondly the intellect assents to something, not through being sufficiently moved to this assent by its proper object, but through an act of choice, whereby it turns voluntarily to one side rather than to the other: and if this be accompanied by doubt or fear of the opposite side, there will be opinion, while, if there be certainty and no fear of the other side, there will be faith.

Now those things are said to be seen which, of themselves, move the intellect or the senses to knowledge of them. Wherefore it is evident that neither faith nor opinion can be of things seen either by the senses or by the intellect."


Here we see that St. Thomas confirms our suggestion that faith is a choice. If we submit our minds to something because we see it in itself (what Thomas calls the first principles), then certainly we do not have *faith* in it. I do not have faith in the computer I am using to type this, but I have strict knowledge of it. In this case, if we *do not* submit our minds to it we are delusional. Similarly, if our intellect assents to something which we do not see itself, but which follows from what we have seen (what Thomas calls the second principles), that is not faith either. For example, we can come to the conclusion that the sun is made of helium and hydrogen based upon a large mass of specifically observed information, including the spectrographies of various elements, the way that light diffracts though various gases, through glass, and so on and so on. This conclusion is not faith, for it is based entirely upon the interaction of various pieces of knowledge.

Thus, we arrive at a second important conclusion. First, we realize that we must believe in *something* and cannot function if we rely only on strict knowledge, for without belief we can in fact have no strict knowledge at all. Now we realize that faith must be a choice, and further that this choice must by its very definition be different from knowledge.

Given all of this, let us turn to the question(s) that you posed: "Why are we asked to believe in a Person, with whom we cannot have an explicit, clear, obvious conversation?" The answer might be obvious by now: we cannot interact with God *other* than by belief, at least not right now (more on this below). Any interaction we have with God must be based upon a belief in Him and in that presence He has used to bring us to belief in the inner-persons of our souls. This is, of course, a key point: we believe because He has given us to believe; it is by His Grace that we believe. Thus, the question is not *as* difficult as it may be otherwise. After all, our belief is not simply something we have, of ourselves, chosen to have. It has been given to us by the One whom we believe in. In other words, we could choose to believe because God, in the depths of our souls, presented us with the choice to believe.

It is also for this reason that faith is more certain than knowledge. Knowledge is based upon the belief that everything works as we believe it does: the world is rational, our faculties accurately capture and interpret this rational world, etc. Our faith is not based upon these sorts of things, which themselves depend upon faith (so that we may have an extra-systemic foundation), but upon God's touching our souls in a personal way: knowledge of the world flows from the relationship that we have with God. Because the Holy Spirit has personally touched us and given us faith, we can move forward and view the world in a rational way.

Thus, Christ tells us that it is *better* that the Holy Spirit - which we cannot see - be given us than that He Himself be physically with us: "Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you." (John 16:7). So long is present to us physically, uttering words, performing physical actions, etc., our relationship with Him depends upon our senses. Not only does this pose the problems with which I began this discussion, but it relegates our relationship with God to the purely "physical." That greater, more perfect relationship with Him - the relationship of the soul - cannot come from talking to the man Jesus, or from walking around with Him. Yet when He left the earth, it made way for this greater relationship, the spiritual relationship.

Consider the difference this makes. The apostles spent 3 years with Jesus Christ the man, talking to Him, getting to know Him as we do our friends, eating with Him, observing Him, listening to His clear and unambiguous words, and so forth. Yet when things became difficult, they abandoned Him. Even the sight of Christ glorified in the Transfiguration was not enough to preserve their love of Him, for of the three who went up the mount to see that sight, only John remained with Him through the Crucifixion. James abandoned Him. Peter denied Him! These men had true *knowledge* of Christ - they observed Him and interacted with Him just as we do with one another, and yet they still abandoned Him, just as we so often turn upon, abandon, and hurt one another though we see how real we all are and how real is the suffering that our offenses cause to our loved ones.

Even after these men had seen Christ *rise from the dead,* they still were not swayed enough. When He had commanded them to preach the Gospel to all nations and ascended to Heaven before their eyes, they returned to the upper room. They did not get to the task He had given them. It was only at Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit came upon them and moved their souls, that the apostles got about to the work Christ had called them to. It was the Spirit which made all the difference. They had seen everything, observed everything, physically been at Christ's side and experienced everything from His miracles to His Transfiguration into Glory to His Resurrection and Ascension, all to little effect. When the *Spirit* came, this changed. The relationship *then* became solid, the Love *then* unwavering.

None of this, of course, is to the detriment of observations and evidences. Indeed, this is what makes Christ different from other purported gods. Christ entered into history, and, so far as we believe that our world is rational and our senses can apprehend it, we can examine the evidence for His life, death, and resurrection. Yet, as St. Thomas explains (see Summa Theologica II-II, 2, 10), and as I mentioned above, this is ancillary to the choice of the individual, moved by Holy Spirit, to believe. These things support faith, but they do not cause it. The cause is nothing more than God's Grace moving the soul to believe, and the soul freely choosing to consent to this movement.

Therein lies a critical point which I have alluded to above but which deserves far more explicit treatment. To quote Thérèse of Lisiuex, "everything is grace." Everything is Grace. Everything is Grace. I repeat it due to the utter importance, above all, of this statement. We believe *only* by Grace. God does not ask us to believe in anything; He moves us to. He does not ask us to trust Him though we have never heard His words aubily; He brings us to. He does not tell us to obey Him; He draws us to. Our part is only that we consent to His Grace, or that we do not consent. At one point, a person does not believe, and then God moves the person's soul. He poses a question to the soul in some way that is indescribable and yet is understood perfectly by the soul, even if in our explicit conscious thought we do not realize it. Then, He waits for our response. That response is either to answer yes, or to answer no. Either way, we do nothing. If we answer no, we continue about our life as we had. If we answer yes, we simply allow God to continue to move our soul, to continue to put belief into our soul, and so on. Our continued belief is the same: our soul is constantly touched by God in a very real way, and we continue to permit Him to work in us, or we do not.

The profound point here is that it is not that we believe or that we do not believe. It is not that we examine evidence, reasoning, or otherwise and make a decision from there. It is that in some way that we cannot now understand, God touches us, and we know it is Him, and we either accept Him or reject Him. Consider the five senses. Each receives the world in a different way. Now consider the person born blind. Because of the defect of body, such a person is not only unable to see, but were he not told about sight by others, he would not even know that such a faculty as sight exists. In the same way, our souls have senses, senses which perceive not the physical world, as do the senses of our bodies, but the supernatural world. It is the senses of the soul which can "see" God, which can "hear" Him, and so on. Yet just like the person born blind, we are completely unaware of these unless we are told by others who have them, and indeed, even once told, we cannot use them any more than the blind man can see once he is told that sight exists.

To the *soul,* not the ear, does God call, by His Grace enabling the soul to hear Him. While we may not be explicitly aware of this call, in the greatest depths of who we are, in our very souls, we do hear, and we either respond or we do not. God's first request is simply that He open the ears of the soul, and should we permit that, He begins to work in the soul more and more. When you think, Davide, that God is speaking, it is certainly difficult to be sure, for that connection between our explicit thoughts and the soul is so heavily damaged by our fallen nature. Yet the soul can hear, and we do respond in the affirmative or the negative. As we consent to God more and more, that connection is strengthened, and we come to know God's voice more and more. We see in the examples of the saints some of those who came to hear God's voice more and more clearly.

Finally, when we pass from this world, the sight of the soul can be opened to see God. Here, and only here, can we have knowledge of Him. I said above that we cannot have more than belief *now.* Now, the eyes of our souls are closed, and only by consenting to His call, only by letting Him open those eyes, can we come to *see* Him, for God is Spirit. He cannot be seen by the eyes of the body, but only of the soul. Thus, as we allow God more and more to heal us, we can come closer and closer to being able to actually see Him. Then, we can have knowledge. Now, we must have faith, for now, we have not the capability of seeing God. In a sense, then, we could say that the reason we must have faith, rather than knowledge, is because of sin. Sin blinds the soul. It is by our own choice that we are "relegated" more and more to belief. Christ's healing of the blind man meant far more than just the giving of His physical sight. Just as the blind man was given to see Christ's body because He permitted the Lord to touch his eyes, he - as can we - came to see Christ's *Spirit* by letting the Lord touch the eyes of His soul.

The journey we are on is one, not of getting to know God, but of permitting God to reveal Himself to us. We must at every moment worry, not about how to believe in what we cannot see, but simply of opening ourselves to God's voice - whether we can hear it or understand it or not! God's Grace will give to us all that we need. What we need do, simply, is not get in the way. Our struggle is not a struggle of believing. Rather, it is a struggle to be certain that we are open to God. The pharisees were given to *see* God's miracles, and to hear His voice, yet they did not believe, because they were not open to hearing Him. Those of them who *were* open to hearing God, like Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, came to Christ. *That* is our effort. *That* is our struggle. We must fight not to put up obstacles to the Lord. If we do that, He will give to us belief, and He will lead us with His voice, and He will bring us to Himself.

God bless,

Shane

Saturday, November 10, 2007

How are Prayers to the Saints really Prayers to God?

I haven't posted in a while - I hope to return to it soon.

This particular piece is the response to a question about why several Catholic events that a woman attended did not involve any prayers to Jesus Himself, but only to saints. The events were things like Bible studies, so that's why I'd say it's ok to just have a few Hail Marys or something. Typically, even in spite of what I said to her, one ought to pray directly to Our Lord during a faith based event, just because of the nature of how we as human beings perceive things. Even though a reality might exist that is different from how things are perceived, nevertheless we God has programmed us to operate according to that perception.

In any case, some others had suggested to this woman that prayer to the saints really is prayer to God. Here is my response:

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You've got the right idea that prayers to saints are really prayers to the Lord in some way. And you've probably also got the right idea that you don't get it. I say this because its the sort of thing that, in my experience, people don't "get" until they've been Catholic for a while, or for cradle Catholics, until they really end up considering the issue for a while. This was true of me as well. I came into the Church in 2005, and I, like you, accepted prayers to the saints and Mary, accepted all the Marian stuff, but still in practice there was a certain degree of Marian piety that I was still uncomfortable with.

The reason for this is, I think, that it's based on some very advanced theological concepts. The thing is, unlike in [much of] Protestantism, Catholicism is so organic a faith that literally everything is deeply tied to everything else. You can't seperate this from that, as Protestants often do. My point is that theology in Catholicism is not merely theoretical - that is, not merely about God academically, but it truly is and stems from and leads to (all at once) the actual practice of the faith. Talk to anyone that's been studying the Summa Theologiae for a while and they'll tell you that they don't just get knowledge from it, but in some way - as cold and technical as it is - they get some sort of increase in their spiritual life as well. It's amazing.

Another way of putting this is to say that the Catholic faith is true, which means that the theological truths it teaches are a part of the fabric of reality, a part of the fabric of who we all really are as human beings and creatures of God, and so the more one prays and leads a spiritual life focused, the more one begins to recognize all the truths of the world and of themselves that underly every moment and aspect of existence. It's sortof like those movies where they show you all the stuff that's really going on in nature at every moment all around you but you never notice, except a lot less gross.

Now, so far as your specific question, that underlying reality that really matters is that everything that we have - even our mere existence - is just some way in which we are sharing in God. It is really God's own existence that in a certain way we participate in, as theologians say. That's why we have existence. It's ours, but it's also God's. Yet it's not in a pantheistic way, as if everything in existence isGod, either.

I'm sure you're familiar with 2 Peter 1:4, where it says that through Christ we are made partakers of the Divine Nature. What he's talking about is the concept of Divination, or Theosis as they call it in the east, which means that through Christ, we in some way share in what it is to be God. Athanasius, for instance, said in one of my favorite quotes, "By the participation of the Spirit, we are knit into the Godhead." This was the center of the faith in the early Church. It was everywhere, and every doctrine - even ones that seem so completely unrelated - were understood around the framework of it.

Now basically, Heaven is to participate in God's existence to the fullest extent that a creature can. That's what 2 Peter 1:4 is talking about. Hell, on the other hand, is to participate in God's existence to the least degree a creature can - to participate in existence alone, and have nothing else at all. Those in Hell suffer so much because they exist, but that's all. Everyone's experienced a moment in their life where they feel like they're just existing and that's all, and it's absolutely miserable. Hell is like that, except people who feel that way aren't even close to just existing and really have so much more - so imagine how terrible Hell is!

But Heaven is to participate more and more and more and more in God. It is to have more and more of what He has. We can never, ever become God, because we can never have existence in and of ourselves - that's what God has. But we can have nearly everything else that God has, not because we deserve it, but because He gives it to us. The first time I heard this it sounded crazy, but the thing is, we only exist by literally sharing that which is God's, His existence. For God to share with us any other part of Himself is no different. It's all just God giving to us that which is His, whether its existence, which we all have, or something more. So those who object to concepts of the saints having different "powers" or whatnot really have no ground to stand on. For a saint to have the "power" to bilocate, for instance, isn't any different from me having the "power" to exist and sit on my couch! The only difference is that that saint has become more open to God and shares more in God than I do.

The key to remember in all of this, though, is that that which we share in of God is not something that God creates, that is, something that He makes to give us that is like what He has. That's not possible, because He is all that really is at all. While those who do object to the saints "powers" are wrong in the way I mentioned above, they're actually correct at the same time because their reason for it is that only God has these things. And it's true! When I exist, or when a person speaks in tongues, or when Padre Pio bilocated, it is literally God doing that in us. It's not some power that is like God, but it is God. If it were something else, that would mean something existed on its own apart from God.

So when I am talking to you, I am talking to God in a certain sense, because you exist by virtue of sharing God's existence. Now when I talk to a baptized Christian, I am talking to God in an even fuller sense, because that person by virtue of baptism shares in more of God. This is why Christ said that what we do to the least of his brother's, we do to Him. It's true! It's why St. Paul said that it was no longer him living, but Christ who lives in him. To become more and more holy is simply to become more and more a partaker in God Himself.

So Mary up in Heaven, who partook of God more than anyone, was so emptied of "Mary" and so full of God that when we talk to her, we really are talking so directly to God, even though we're also talking to the human being Mary. Same goes for any other saint, just to a lesser degree as they were not as holy as she and participated in God to different degrees.

It's the same as with good works. The Council of Trent taught that the good works of a Christian are really the good works of the Holy Spirit living in the Christian, but in some mysterious sense that they are also the good works of the Christian at the same time. It's that Catholic "both/and" that everyone talks about. And it hints at that tremendous underlying reality to everything, namely, that everything that exists really is all at once both itself and God. It is itself, but it is God's own existence that it shares. This is one of those things we're never going to come close to grasping until we see God face to face.

So when we pray to Mary or to any saint, we're talking to them, but we're also talking to God, in the same way as when I talk to you or as when I feed my homeless brother. Yet we're also talking to God through them in an even deeper sense, because they share in God so, so deeply. They are so emptied of self and so full of God - so participating in God. Furthermore, you're praying - you're asking for Divine favors. That's what God does, and in asking them to grant these through their intercession, you're appealing to the Divine in them that they have become partakers of. So you're speaking to God, even though you're speaking to a human being, just like when I feed a human being I'm feeding Christ, but in a greater sense.

Now, I don't imagine that the people at these events considered all this. It's possible that just living the Catholic life led them, as it so often does, to an unconscious grasp of this aspect of reality such that what they did seemed perfectly great to them. It's also possible they just weren't very good Catholics and didn't care too much about Jesus. You'd be a better judge of that than I would, since you were there. But I bet they cared plenty about Him .

I know this is a ton to take at once, but I wanted to try to answer your question as best I could. I also prayed first, so I hope the Holy Spirit worked a little bit here. In any case, God bless.