The miracle of the Virgin Birth is a lynch-pin of orthodox Christian faith. If you deny that Christ was born of a virgin, you deny that He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, and thereby deny that He was born the Son of God. You reject the miracle of the Incarnation, you reject the purpose of His life on earth, and you reject the meaning of His death on the cross. The Church stands united on this issue, overcoming all schismatic division: the Virgin Birth is one of the essential truths of the faith.
But many Christians are content to leave it at that. Most Protestants in my experience defend the virgin birth, but don't find anything particularly objectionable in the idea that Mary went on to marry Joseph and have other children (citing the brothers of Jesus, to which Scripture sometimes refers). As a Protestant I too wondered why Catholics insisted on her perpetual virginity.
There are some indicators of this doctrine even in the Scriptural account. At the Annunciation, the archangel Gabriel informs Mary: "Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name Him Jesus." Mary's response is perplexing: the literal translation reads "How will this be, since I know no man?" As St. Gregory of Nyssa (younger brother to Basil the Great) pointed out, we should wonder why Mary didn't make the connection to her impending marriage to Joseph. The archangel only told her that she would conceive, in the future, and her response is to wonder how that would be possible -- even in the future. The Roman Catholic and Orthodox understanding is that Mary had pledged herself as a lifelong virgin, and that her betrothal to Joseph was in fact his pledge of guardianship.
It should be noted that this doctrine does not conflict with other passages in Scripture. There are several oft-quoted proof-texts that cite the "brothers of Jesus" (Matthew 28:10, Mark 6:3, Luke 8:19, and John 20:17, among others) as clearly contradicting this doctrine. But this reading fails to recognize that the Hebrew word translated as "brother" (adelphoi) was in fact a catch-all word for male kinsmen, which would include half-brothers, stepbrothers, first cousins, and quite possibly third cousins once removed.
As a brief side note, I sometimes marvel at those who think any verse could be an authoritative rebuttal to the dogma of perpetual virginity (or any other dogma, for that matter). Given the brilliance of the Fathers and the exegetical rigor of the Doctors who gave us Catholic tradition, don't we imagine that the early church would have noticed any obvious contradictions and not made such claims in the first place? Isn't it rather absurd to imagine that it took nearly two millennia for Christians to notice such verses?
The dogma of perpetual virginity arose out of the tradition of the early Church. The earliest reference to the dogma appears, somewhat obliquely, in a letter from Ignatius of Antioch (circa 108 AD). The earliest defense to the dogma appears in the second century, in a pseudo-epigraphical text now referred to as "The Protoevangelium of James." While the work is not canonical, it is cited approvingly by Origen in the third century as confirmation that the perpetual virginity of Mary was an accepted doctrine in the early church. Before this point, the only recorded dissent was voiced in the second century by Tertullian, who denied that Mary's virginity was preserved in partu (during birth), in order to affirm the physical reality of the Incarnation against the Docetist heresy. However, even the fact that Tertullian had to actively deny Mary's perpetual virginity would seem to corroborate Origen's conclusion that it was a widely held belief. By the fourth century, the dogma was attested by most of the Church Fathers, including Athanasius, Ambrose, and Jerome, and it would not be questioned until well after the Protestant Reformation.
None of this, however, addresses the question of how the early church arrived at this dogma in the first place. The answer to that relies primarily on a particular mode of Scriptural exegesis called "typological." This hermeneutic is best understood by St. Augustine's well-known dictum: "The New Testament lies hidden in the Old and the Old Testament is unveiled in the New."
If there is a single defining characteristic of the Jewish faith during the time of Christ, it was the Temple. The original Temple was built by Solomon, the archetypal son of David, as the center of religious observance for the nation of Israel. But the Temple was not considered holy in and of itself. Its holiness was rather derived from the object it was built to house: the Ark of the Covenant. The Ark was placed in the Holy of Holies, the inner sanctum of the Temple that only the High Priest could visit only once a year to offer a single sacrifice of blood and incense.
What then was this Ark of the Covenant? According to Hebrews 9:4, it was a vessel "covered on all sides with gold, in which there was a golden jar holding the manna, and Aaron's rod which budded, and the tables of the covenant." The Ark was constructed by Moses to hold the bread which gave life to Israel in the desert (Exodus 16:32), the rod of the the Priest who stood before God on behalf of the people (Numbers 17:10), and the stone tables on which the Word of God was written (Deuteronomy 10:1-5). Scripture and tradition confirm that the early church treated these three items as typologies of Jesus Christ. He is "the bread of life" (John 6:35), "the High Priest of our confession (Hebrews 3:1), and "the Word made flesh" (John 1:14). The Ark of the Covenant bore within itself the typologies of Jesus Christ.
If true, then by the same typological reading, the Ark of the Covenant would itself be a typology for the one who bore Jesus Christ come in flesh. The Ark of the Covenant prefigures the Virgin Mary.
Do we begin to understand why the early church insisted on Mary's perpetual virginity? To borrow an analogy from Scott Hahn, a Presbyterian-turned-Catholic apologist, Catholics believe in the perpetual virginity of Mary for the same reason that most people wouldn't bring their fine china on a picnic. It's a matter of propriety.
For a period of nine months, the womb of Mary was quite literally the Ark of the New Covenant, the vessel which bore God in bodily form. Mary herself may be considered the Holy of Holies, as she was overshadowed by the power of the Most High (Luke 1:35). Yet, by the typology of the Temple, only one person was permitted to enter the Holy of Holies, and that was permitted only for a single purpose. That purpose was fulfilled when the Holy Spirit came upon her to conceive the Son of God.
It would have been inappropriate, then, for Joseph to perform the same duties as a husband, for this would have diminished the living Temple that was his virgin wife. The logic of this teaching does not imply, as some have said, that marriage is not a sacrament or that sex is not a blessing. It merely recognizes the specifically sacred function of this particular woman and this particular womb.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Commentary on Scripture: Romans 3
But he is a Jew who is one inwardly; and circumcision is that which is of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the letter; and his praise is not from men, but from God.
Romans 3:1-2 ~~ If indeed, as Romans 2 suggests, we are judged according to our knowledge of God, why then seek to know more of God? "What advantage has the Jew? ...Great in every respect! First of all, that they were entrusted with the oracles of God." To be privileged with the Presence and grace of God is to be blessed, even if there are greater responsibilities that attend such gifts. Paul discusses the other benefits of special revelation in Romans 9, particularly verses 4-5.
Romans 3:3-8 ~~ Paul lists a series of paradoxes. If God demonstrated His "faithfulness" to us by the gift of special revelation, why do some not believe? If error proves the existence of truth, and "our unrighteousness demonstrates the righteousness of God," why is sin wrong? How could God judge the world if His attributes are demonstrated by both the good and the bad that we do? Why are we worthy of judgment if "through my lie the truth of God abounded to His glory"?
Romans 3:7-9 ~~ Paul asks, quite logically, why we ought not commit ourselves to the antinomian heresy. Why oughtn't we "continue in sin, that grace may abound" (Romans 6:1)? Paul condemns this heresy, but asks the more pertinent question for those who are not so mistaken: "Are we better than they? Not at all; for we have already charged that both Jews and Greeks are all under sin." There's an interesting side note on this, as well as the ideas of predestination and divine judgment found in Luke 22:22. Speaking of Judas, Jesus says to His disciples: "For indeed, the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that man by whom He is betrayed!"
Romans 3:10-18 ~~ A series of quotes from the Old Testament emphasizing the universality of sin and judgment. These quotes are taken from the Psalms -- 5:9, 10:7, 14:1-3, 36:1, 53:1-3, and 140:3 -- as well as Isaiah 59:7. It's easy to forget, however, that these quotes all speak of man in his native or "natural" state, absent the intervention and grace of God. In verse 10, Paul quotes Psalms 14:1-3 -- "There is none righteous, not even one" -- but in chapter 4:3 he quotes Genesis 15:6 -- "Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness." Likewise, by the revelation of God there are some who understand; by the imago dei there are some who seek for God; by the faithfulness of God not all have fallen away; by the sanctifying grace of God there are some who do good.
Romans 3:19-20 ~~ The Law was given to the Jews but was of no benefit for the justification of their souls, for the Law only reveals sin but cannot take it away (Romans 8:5, Galatians 3:21).
Romans 3:23-24 ~~ This is one of the "classic" verses often memorized by kids who grow up in the Christian Church. It is less appreciated as another example of Paul's astounding command of rhetoric. This is quite possibly the purest example of a transitional sentence. Paul summarizes the doctrine of the universality of sin, and introduces the doctrine of justification by faith, in a single smooth turn of a phrase.
Romans 3:27 ~~ "What then is boasting? It is excluded. By what kind of law? Of works? No, but by a law of faith." By what standard could we boast, but by a standard (of total reliance and dependence on God) that forbids boasting?
Romans 3:29-30 ~~ The unity of God is revealed by His just treatment of Jews and Gentiles: for both are justified in proportion to their faith in Him, without regard to the advantages of special privileges of knowledge.
Romans 3:31 ~~ The doctrine of justification by faith and the doctrine of Christian liberty (cf. Romans 7 and Galatians 3) do not "nullify the Law," but are together indeed the cornerstone of the Law -- the foundational understanding on which our reading of the Law must be based.
It is easy to rip Romans 3 out of the context of the surrounding passages and chapters, and treat it as a solitary affirmation of justification by faith. However, that context is always necessary. Justification by faith is the warm milk of our salvation -- necessary in infancy, but almost beneath our notice in our spiritual maturity. It must be balanced with understanding the rest of the message of Scripture, especially in this context the doctrine of of judgment according to knowledge (Romans 2), of inheritance according to works (James 2), of Christian liberty (Galatians 3), and most especially of divine filiation (Galatians 4). For we are justified by faith apart from works, but are sanctified and glorified according to the judgment of words and deeds, according to how greatly we reflect the glory of God, for we are by the blood of Christ heirs of the promise and sons of God.
Romans 3:1-2 ~~ If indeed, as Romans 2 suggests, we are judged according to our knowledge of God, why then seek to know more of God? "What advantage has the Jew? ...Great in every respect! First of all, that they were entrusted with the oracles of God." To be privileged with the Presence and grace of God is to be blessed, even if there are greater responsibilities that attend such gifts. Paul discusses the other benefits of special revelation in Romans 9, particularly verses 4-5.
Romans 3:3-8 ~~ Paul lists a series of paradoxes. If God demonstrated His "faithfulness" to us by the gift of special revelation, why do some not believe? If error proves the existence of truth, and "our unrighteousness demonstrates the righteousness of God," why is sin wrong? How could God judge the world if His attributes are demonstrated by both the good and the bad that we do? Why are we worthy of judgment if "through my lie the truth of God abounded to His glory"?
Romans 3:7-9 ~~ Paul asks, quite logically, why we ought not commit ourselves to the antinomian heresy. Why oughtn't we "continue in sin, that grace may abound" (Romans 6:1)? Paul condemns this heresy, but asks the more pertinent question for those who are not so mistaken: "Are we better than they? Not at all; for we have already charged that both Jews and Greeks are all under sin." There's an interesting side note on this, as well as the ideas of predestination and divine judgment found in Luke 22:22. Speaking of Judas, Jesus says to His disciples: "For indeed, the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that man by whom He is betrayed!"
Romans 3:10-18 ~~ A series of quotes from the Old Testament emphasizing the universality of sin and judgment. These quotes are taken from the Psalms -- 5:9, 10:7, 14:1-3, 36:1, 53:1-3, and 140:3 -- as well as Isaiah 59:7. It's easy to forget, however, that these quotes all speak of man in his native or "natural" state, absent the intervention and grace of God. In verse 10, Paul quotes Psalms 14:1-3 -- "There is none righteous, not even one" -- but in chapter 4:3 he quotes Genesis 15:6 -- "Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness." Likewise, by the revelation of God there are some who understand; by the imago dei there are some who seek for God; by the faithfulness of God not all have fallen away; by the sanctifying grace of God there are some who do good.
Romans 3:19-20 ~~ The Law was given to the Jews but was of no benefit for the justification of their souls, for the Law only reveals sin but cannot take it away (Romans 8:5, Galatians 3:21).
Romans 3:23-24 ~~ This is one of the "classic" verses often memorized by kids who grow up in the Christian Church. It is less appreciated as another example of Paul's astounding command of rhetoric. This is quite possibly the purest example of a transitional sentence. Paul summarizes the doctrine of the universality of sin, and introduces the doctrine of justification by faith, in a single smooth turn of a phrase.
Romans 3:27 ~~ "What then is boasting? It is excluded. By what kind of law? Of works? No, but by a law of faith." By what standard could we boast, but by a standard (of total reliance and dependence on God) that forbids boasting?
Romans 3:29-30 ~~ The unity of God is revealed by His just treatment of Jews and Gentiles: for both are justified in proportion to their faith in Him, without regard to the advantages of special privileges of knowledge.
Romans 3:31 ~~ The doctrine of justification by faith and the doctrine of Christian liberty (cf. Romans 7 and Galatians 3) do not "nullify the Law," but are together indeed the cornerstone of the Law -- the foundational understanding on which our reading of the Law must be based.
It is easy to rip Romans 3 out of the context of the surrounding passages and chapters, and treat it as a solitary affirmation of justification by faith. However, that context is always necessary. Justification by faith is the warm milk of our salvation -- necessary in infancy, but almost beneath our notice in our spiritual maturity. It must be balanced with understanding the rest of the message of Scripture, especially in this context the doctrine of of judgment according to knowledge (Romans 2), of inheritance according to works (James 2), of Christian liberty (Galatians 3), and most especially of divine filiation (Galatians 4). For we are justified by faith apart from works, but are sanctified and glorified according to the judgment of words and deeds, according to how greatly we reflect the glory of God, for we are by the blood of Christ heirs of the promise and sons of God.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Mary, Mother of God
Of all the practices and principles in the Roman Catholic Church that are objected to by modern Protestants, the centrality of Marian devotion will almost always top the list. Not even the doctrine of papal infallibility can compete for that dubious honor. In the centuries following the Protestant Reformation, cries of "popery" and "Romanism" among anti-Catholic groups were often accompanied by accusations of "Mariolatry," and the charge is repeated to this day.
At the very least, a Christian organization that is distinguished primarily in public perception by devotion to a human woman cannot be as effective a witness for the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Moreover, if the members of that Christian community mark their own faith principally by such devotions, I consider it a near-certainty that their faith would suffer as a result.
And yet... none of the above says anything against the truth of Catholic teachings on Mary nor against the moral quality of actual Catholic practice. Growing up in a Protestant community, I have often been concerned by the appearance of idolatry in certain Catholic dogma. But I had no way of knowing whether such teachings are informed by a genuinely Christ-centered attitude.
For the Ten Commandments direct to us to place no other god before the One God, and to not fashion idols for ourselves. If idolatry is elevating a created thing above the Creator, then that definition would not apply to an offering of respect or devotion to a created thing as such, when offered to the extent it reflects the glory of its Creator. Indeed, such respect may indeed be quite wholesome as spiritual practice: witness the Protestant devotion to the written Word of God.
The question thus remains: is this indeed the case with Catholic devotions to Mary?
One of the earliest title applied to the virgin girl from Nazareth was officially recognized by the Church at the First Council of Ephesus in 431 AD. Nestorius, the Archbishop of Constantinople, was on record supporting a recognition of Mary as Christotokos -- that is, as the "bearer" or "birth-giver of Christ." This was part of his broader theological platform, in which he argued that the human person of Jesus Christ was distinct from (but unified with) the divine person of the Son of God.
Nestorius' teachings were declared heresy and anathema by the Council at Ephesus, because it tried to separate the twin natures of Jesus Christ into two distinct persons, almost as a inversion of the Docetist heresy. Rather, the Council asserted, Christ is identified with the Son of God, the human and divine natures being unified in a single person.
Therefore, Mary's role cannot be limited to that of birth-mother of merely the human component, but must be treated in light of the entirety of her Son's being. In sum, Mary could not be merely Christotokos, but must be treated and recognized as Theotokos, the "bearer" or "birth-giver of God."
This conciliar decision defined a Marian dogma which was already in common circulation: the earliest known usage is in Origen's commentary on Romans in the third century, and the term appears throughout the works of the early Christian Fathers, including St. Athanasius and St. Augustine . It is an apostolic tradition in the sense most recognizable to a Protestant audience: it originated out of the common understanding of the early church, was defended by the highest bishops of the Church, and was declared to be dogma by conciliar degree.
This particular dogma should point those of us from the Protestant traditions to two particular realizations. First, the doctrine that Mary was indeed the Mother of God should go a long way in elevating her in our eyes. She was a young peasant girl from Nazareth who by God's grace was permitted to bear the immortal, inscrutable, transcendental Word Made Flesh. Her distinction is unique in Scripture, her role utterly unique in all of Creation, yet most Protestants don't seem to pay her that much attention.
Second, this dogma of Theotokos should help Protestants understand that every Catholic teaching on Mary arose out of a similar process, from consideration of her relationship to her Son, Jesus Christ.
Over the next several posts, I hope to considering Roman Catholic devotion to Mary from several perspectives. Each post will explore a particular Marian dogma defined or set forth in the Catholic Church. Each post will consider this dogma in light of a particular title accorded to Mary. Each post will cover Mary's actual role in various New Testament passages, especially those considered important to the early Church. Finally, and crucially, each post will look at her typological role foreshadowed throughout the Old Testament. Most of these exegetical readings were unknown to me until recently, but they are the furthest thing from original, for they flow from the traditions of the early Church. I only hope I may do justice to them.
At the very least, a Christian organization that is distinguished primarily in public perception by devotion to a human woman cannot be as effective a witness for the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Moreover, if the members of that Christian community mark their own faith principally by such devotions, I consider it a near-certainty that their faith would suffer as a result.
And yet... none of the above says anything against the truth of Catholic teachings on Mary nor against the moral quality of actual Catholic practice. Growing up in a Protestant community, I have often been concerned by the appearance of idolatry in certain Catholic dogma. But I had no way of knowing whether such teachings are informed by a genuinely Christ-centered attitude.
For the Ten Commandments direct to us to place no other god before the One God, and to not fashion idols for ourselves. If idolatry is elevating a created thing above the Creator, then that definition would not apply to an offering of respect or devotion to a created thing as such, when offered to the extent it reflects the glory of its Creator. Indeed, such respect may indeed be quite wholesome as spiritual practice: witness the Protestant devotion to the written Word of God.
The question thus remains: is this indeed the case with Catholic devotions to Mary?
One of the earliest title applied to the virgin girl from Nazareth was officially recognized by the Church at the First Council of Ephesus in 431 AD. Nestorius, the Archbishop of Constantinople, was on record supporting a recognition of Mary as Christotokos -- that is, as the "bearer" or "birth-giver of Christ." This was part of his broader theological platform, in which he argued that the human person of Jesus Christ was distinct from (but unified with) the divine person of the Son of God.
Nestorius' teachings were declared heresy and anathema by the Council at Ephesus, because it tried to separate the twin natures of Jesus Christ into two distinct persons, almost as a inversion of the Docetist heresy. Rather, the Council asserted, Christ is identified with the Son of God, the human and divine natures being unified in a single person.
Therefore, Mary's role cannot be limited to that of birth-mother of merely the human component, but must be treated in light of the entirety of her Son's being. In sum, Mary could not be merely Christotokos, but must be treated and recognized as Theotokos, the "bearer" or "birth-giver of God."
This conciliar decision defined a Marian dogma which was already in common circulation: the earliest known usage is in Origen's commentary on Romans in the third century, and the term appears throughout the works of the early Christian Fathers, including St. Athanasius and St. Augustine . It is an apostolic tradition in the sense most recognizable to a Protestant audience: it originated out of the common understanding of the early church, was defended by the highest bishops of the Church, and was declared to be dogma by conciliar degree.
This particular dogma should point those of us from the Protestant traditions to two particular realizations. First, the doctrine that Mary was indeed the Mother of God should go a long way in elevating her in our eyes. She was a young peasant girl from Nazareth who by God's grace was permitted to bear the immortal, inscrutable, transcendental Word Made Flesh. Her distinction is unique in Scripture, her role utterly unique in all of Creation, yet most Protestants don't seem to pay her that much attention.
Second, this dogma of Theotokos should help Protestants understand that every Catholic teaching on Mary arose out of a similar process, from consideration of her relationship to her Son, Jesus Christ.
Over the next several posts, I hope to considering Roman Catholic devotion to Mary from several perspectives. Each post will explore a particular Marian dogma defined or set forth in the Catholic Church. Each post will consider this dogma in light of a particular title accorded to Mary. Each post will cover Mary's actual role in various New Testament passages, especially those considered important to the early Church. Finally, and crucially, each post will look at her typological role foreshadowed throughout the Old Testament. Most of these exegetical readings were unknown to me until recently, but they are the furthest thing from original, for they flow from the traditions of the early Church. I only hope I may do justice to them.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Veneration of the Saints
Back when I was in first grade, my elementary school would celebrate the end of the school year with a demonstration of the sixth graders' science projects. It was awesome. It was particularly cool because I knew that one day I would be a sixth grader, and the prospect excited me. See, from the perspective of a first grader, sixth graders fall into the same category of Big People as teenagers and adults, but unlike those two, being a sixth grader actually seems attainable. Adolescence was just as distant a dream as adulthood at that point.
I bring this up because I think it provides some necessary perspective on our concept of "the saints." God has destined us for greater things than we can possibly dream. He created us, He called us, He justified us, and He will glorify us (Romans 8:30). We are therefore in the position of first graders in the cosmic scheme: even 'adolescence' (the interim glory of the intermediate heaven) is beyond our comprehension, let alone the 'adulthood' of the New Heaven and New Earth.
Fortunately, God gave us role models for our encouragement, that they reflect His glory in ways we might not have been able to otherwise comprehend, to allow us to glimpse even through the veil our future fate in His Presence. The saints are, by this analogy, in the position of the sixth graders: the testimony of their astoundingly holy lives gives us hope, for they are not so far removed from our own experiences as to be out of reach. Naturally, by now they've moved on to adolescence, but we remain children, and we can only see the testimony of their mortal lives.
One of the five "solas" of the Protestant Reformation was "Soli Deo gloria" -- "Glory to God alone," as opposed to glory to any created being. This is a noble idea, as far as it goes, but it can be easily taken to extremes.
Some virulent anti-Catholics cite Matthew 23:9 to attack Catholics who call priests "Father" as a term of respect. Yet they seem to forget the the passage ostensibly condemns any use of the word "father," presumably including its application to our biological male parent. This is nonsense. Matthew 23 was a discussion of how to respond to the authority of the rabbis and Pharisees -- who, though they sinned against the commands of the Law they promulgated, still sat on Moses' seat and still commanded authority under Jewish tradition. Jesus' words were a call to humility and a reminder that authority owes its own legitimacy to God, and that pride has no place among those who are called to greater responsibility. His words do not undermine the commandment to "Honor thy father and mother," nor could Christ have contradicted the words of the Law, for by the Shema, "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One."
The modern instinct for egalitarianism is necessary in a legal sense, for a free society requires an impartial rule of law. But in its cultural applications, this modern instinct is disastrous. Peter Kreeft described it as a new manifestation of pride: rather than elevating oneself above all others, it would tear down all others who would dare to be elevated above oneself.
In a society such as ours, respect for authority is a practical necessity, just as respect for tradition is necessary in an age that venerates modernity at the expense of the past.
Glory belongs solely to God, but God has chosen to glorify us, His children. Only Christ was the Son of God, but by His wounds we have been made sons of God, and brought into our inheritance. Clearly we ought not worship anything other than the One True God, for that would be idolatry. But Catholic doctrine distinguishes between dulia (honor and veneration for anything created) and latria (worship and adoration pertaining to God alone), and surely this distinction should seem natural to us. For I respect and admire Pixar studios for their near-unfailing ability to craft comic and dramatic masterpieces, but this is a far different kind and level and admiration compared to that which I bear towards my God. There are degrees of honor and veneration that are appropriate to created things, to the degree that they bear witness to their Creator.
The Church has no power to make or declare saints. The process of beatification and canonization are processes of recognizing saints -- that is, recognizing those whose lives were a dynamic testimony to the manifested fruits of the spirit, such that we know with certainty that they live now in the Presence of God. This understanding helps us understand why veneration to the saints is appropriate.
In the book of Revelation, John is visited by an angel, one who dwells in the very Presence of God. The appearance of this angel is enough to drive him to his knees in awestruck wonder. The angel cautions him not to worship him, for worship belongs to God and not to His servant, but surely John's reaction was understandable. Our weak eyes are easily blinded by the sun.
The saints are those who lived to reflect the glory of the Lord, and God's glory shone through them. How could we not respect and honor their witness? Those of us who grew up in a Protestant background understand the oppressive fear of committing idolatry, the fear of offending God by offering to others what is due solely to Him. But when we see that honor is due to the saints precisely because of they manifested the glory due solely to the Lord, we should feel safe in offering our respect and appreciation for their lives. Christ was the firstborn, but we have plenty of older brothers and sisters who, in following Him, lead the way for us.
I bring this up because I think it provides some necessary perspective on our concept of "the saints." God has destined us for greater things than we can possibly dream. He created us, He called us, He justified us, and He will glorify us (Romans 8:30). We are therefore in the position of first graders in the cosmic scheme: even 'adolescence' (the interim glory of the intermediate heaven) is beyond our comprehension, let alone the 'adulthood' of the New Heaven and New Earth.
Fortunately, God gave us role models for our encouragement, that they reflect His glory in ways we might not have been able to otherwise comprehend, to allow us to glimpse even through the veil our future fate in His Presence. The saints are, by this analogy, in the position of the sixth graders: the testimony of their astoundingly holy lives gives us hope, for they are not so far removed from our own experiences as to be out of reach. Naturally, by now they've moved on to adolescence, but we remain children, and we can only see the testimony of their mortal lives.
One of the five "solas" of the Protestant Reformation was "Soli Deo gloria" -- "Glory to God alone," as opposed to glory to any created being. This is a noble idea, as far as it goes, but it can be easily taken to extremes.
Some virulent anti-Catholics cite Matthew 23:9 to attack Catholics who call priests "Father" as a term of respect. Yet they seem to forget the the passage ostensibly condemns any use of the word "father," presumably including its application to our biological male parent. This is nonsense. Matthew 23 was a discussion of how to respond to the authority of the rabbis and Pharisees -- who, though they sinned against the commands of the Law they promulgated, still sat on Moses' seat and still commanded authority under Jewish tradition. Jesus' words were a call to humility and a reminder that authority owes its own legitimacy to God, and that pride has no place among those who are called to greater responsibility. His words do not undermine the commandment to "Honor thy father and mother," nor could Christ have contradicted the words of the Law, for by the Shema, "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One."
The modern instinct for egalitarianism is necessary in a legal sense, for a free society requires an impartial rule of law. But in its cultural applications, this modern instinct is disastrous. Peter Kreeft described it as a new manifestation of pride: rather than elevating oneself above all others, it would tear down all others who would dare to be elevated above oneself.
In a society such as ours, respect for authority is a practical necessity, just as respect for tradition is necessary in an age that venerates modernity at the expense of the past.
Glory belongs solely to God, but God has chosen to glorify us, His children. Only Christ was the Son of God, but by His wounds we have been made sons of God, and brought into our inheritance. Clearly we ought not worship anything other than the One True God, for that would be idolatry. But Catholic doctrine distinguishes between dulia (honor and veneration for anything created) and latria (worship and adoration pertaining to God alone), and surely this distinction should seem natural to us. For I respect and admire Pixar studios for their near-unfailing ability to craft comic and dramatic masterpieces, but this is a far different kind and level and admiration compared to that which I bear towards my God. There are degrees of honor and veneration that are appropriate to created things, to the degree that they bear witness to their Creator.
The Church has no power to make or declare saints. The process of beatification and canonization are processes of recognizing saints -- that is, recognizing those whose lives were a dynamic testimony to the manifested fruits of the spirit, such that we know with certainty that they live now in the Presence of God. This understanding helps us understand why veneration to the saints is appropriate.
In the book of Revelation, John is visited by an angel, one who dwells in the very Presence of God. The appearance of this angel is enough to drive him to his knees in awestruck wonder. The angel cautions him not to worship him, for worship belongs to God and not to His servant, but surely John's reaction was understandable. Our weak eyes are easily blinded by the sun.
The saints are those who lived to reflect the glory of the Lord, and God's glory shone through them. How could we not respect and honor their witness? Those of us who grew up in a Protestant background understand the oppressive fear of committing idolatry, the fear of offending God by offering to others what is due solely to Him. But when we see that honor is due to the saints precisely because of they manifested the glory due solely to the Lord, we should feel safe in offering our respect and appreciation for their lives. Christ was the firstborn, but we have plenty of older brothers and sisters who, in following Him, lead the way for us.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
The Christian Case for Mardi Gras
I honestly can't believe I'm going to write this.
The season of Lent is a time of fasting -- abstaining from food for a time, abstaining from meat, sacrificing some of the comforts of life to reflect on the suffering and sacrifice made by God. The beginning of Lent, Ash Wednesday, is one of the highest moments in the church calendar. It is also preceded by one of the lowest.
I've never attended a Mardi Gras celebration, but it is generally regarded as a time for general debauchery and mischief. It began as a single day -- "Fat Tuesday" is the French translation -- but in some places it is now celebrated as a multi-day celebration of venial sins, wherever they may be conveniently had. In other places, it is a much more muted occasion, but the principle remains: before you're stuck fasting and devoting yourself to holiness, live a little! Indulge your wilder side!
I consider myself a pretty straight-laced person, so the idea of 'Fat Tuesday' doesn't particularly appeal to me. However, there is a moral principle at work, that I think bears closer inspection.
God created nature, and made it good. Its current fallen estate does not and cannot override its original and intended nature: to be a vessel of God's love and care. Our Creator is good, and the Creation bears His signature. We should not fall prey to Manichean dichotomies of God fighting against an evil material universe -- the image itself testifies to its absurdity.
Moreover, we live in a place and a time with unparalleled prosperity. In contrast with every other era of history, it is nearly impossible for an individual in the modern West to die of starvation. In contrast with many other places in the world, a beggar in the modern West still carries more wealth than most of the population of the Third World. It is almost impossible to fathom the degree to which we are removed in material resources from most other peoples and places. Likewise, it's almost impossible to fathom the degree to which we fail to appreciate it.
The meaning of a sacrifice depends on the value of the thing given up. This is the foundation of all sacrifices -- from the ritual offerings at the Temple of Solomon, to the Passion of the Christ, to the modern practice of tithing. This is why Abel's sacrifice was accepted and Cain's was not. This is why Israel was command to sacrifice the firstborn of their flocks, and why no lamb with spot of blemish would be acceptable. This is why monastics and ascetics are considered holy -- not because they renounced the evil things of this world, but because they gave up the good comforts of life to help them meditate on the mercy and humility of God. This is why Catholic priests are called to a life of celibacy -- not because marriage is a bad thing, but at least partly because the voluntary sacrifice of one of life's great Joys testifies to their devotion and exclusive service to God.
If we wish to honor God with our sacrifices, we should realize the value of what we are giving up. When we fast -- when we abstain from food or any good thing either in quantity or in quality -- we should remember that we are sacrificing something that God created for our enjoyment.
If we reflect and realize that what we're giving up is in fact bad for us -- if it's an addiction, or an idol, or a sin -- then it shouldn't be the object of a "fast" but the object of a confession. We wouldn't dump the contents of our garbage bags into the collection plate if we were honestly seeking to honor God. If we did, there was probably something a bit off with our relationship with Him. The principle remains the same.
When we first surrendered our lives to God, it was in consideration of God's grace and mercy and love, borne out of the realization that He first loved us and valued us, enough to send His own only begotten Son to live among us and suffer for us and die at our hands. I believe the Calvinist doctrine of total depravity makes nonsense of God's love -- for it we were totally depraved and utterly unlovable, how could God come to value us? Rather, we are marked by His image and made in His likeness. We were made for His Presence, but fell from glory, and God stooped down to raise us back up.
The Christian case for Mardi Gras is simple. Before we fast, we should take a moment to remember just how good the things we're giving up actually are. I do not say we should indulge in such things: for good things in excess make the best idols, and gluttony is a deadly sin. But we can and we ought to find time to revel in the glory of God, revealed and imparted in His blessings and His bounty. Only then, in the full knowledge of the majesty and glory of God, and the beauty and goodness of His Creation, can we sacrifice the first-fruits of our lives with the knowledge that it is a worthy offering to the Lord.
The season of Lent is a time of fasting -- abstaining from food for a time, abstaining from meat, sacrificing some of the comforts of life to reflect on the suffering and sacrifice made by God. The beginning of Lent, Ash Wednesday, is one of the highest moments in the church calendar. It is also preceded by one of the lowest.
I've never attended a Mardi Gras celebration, but it is generally regarded as a time for general debauchery and mischief. It began as a single day -- "Fat Tuesday" is the French translation -- but in some places it is now celebrated as a multi-day celebration of venial sins, wherever they may be conveniently had. In other places, it is a much more muted occasion, but the principle remains: before you're stuck fasting and devoting yourself to holiness, live a little! Indulge your wilder side!
I consider myself a pretty straight-laced person, so the idea of 'Fat Tuesday' doesn't particularly appeal to me. However, there is a moral principle at work, that I think bears closer inspection.
God created nature, and made it good. Its current fallen estate does not and cannot override its original and intended nature: to be a vessel of God's love and care. Our Creator is good, and the Creation bears His signature. We should not fall prey to Manichean dichotomies of God fighting against an evil material universe -- the image itself testifies to its absurdity.
Moreover, we live in a place and a time with unparalleled prosperity. In contrast with every other era of history, it is nearly impossible for an individual in the modern West to die of starvation. In contrast with many other places in the world, a beggar in the modern West still carries more wealth than most of the population of the Third World. It is almost impossible to fathom the degree to which we are removed in material resources from most other peoples and places. Likewise, it's almost impossible to fathom the degree to which we fail to appreciate it.
The meaning of a sacrifice depends on the value of the thing given up. This is the foundation of all sacrifices -- from the ritual offerings at the Temple of Solomon, to the Passion of the Christ, to the modern practice of tithing. This is why Abel's sacrifice was accepted and Cain's was not. This is why Israel was command to sacrifice the firstborn of their flocks, and why no lamb with spot of blemish would be acceptable. This is why monastics and ascetics are considered holy -- not because they renounced the evil things of this world, but because they gave up the good comforts of life to help them meditate on the mercy and humility of God. This is why Catholic priests are called to a life of celibacy -- not because marriage is a bad thing, but at least partly because the voluntary sacrifice of one of life's great Joys testifies to their devotion and exclusive service to God.
If we wish to honor God with our sacrifices, we should realize the value of what we are giving up. When we fast -- when we abstain from food or any good thing either in quantity or in quality -- we should remember that we are sacrificing something that God created for our enjoyment.
If we reflect and realize that what we're giving up is in fact bad for us -- if it's an addiction, or an idol, or a sin -- then it shouldn't be the object of a "fast" but the object of a confession. We wouldn't dump the contents of our garbage bags into the collection plate if we were honestly seeking to honor God. If we did, there was probably something a bit off with our relationship with Him. The principle remains the same.
When we first surrendered our lives to God, it was in consideration of God's grace and mercy and love, borne out of the realization that He first loved us and valued us, enough to send His own only begotten Son to live among us and suffer for us and die at our hands. I believe the Calvinist doctrine of total depravity makes nonsense of God's love -- for it we were totally depraved and utterly unlovable, how could God come to value us? Rather, we are marked by His image and made in His likeness. We were made for His Presence, but fell from glory, and God stooped down to raise us back up.
The Christian case for Mardi Gras is simple. Before we fast, we should take a moment to remember just how good the things we're giving up actually are. I do not say we should indulge in such things: for good things in excess make the best idols, and gluttony is a deadly sin. But we can and we ought to find time to revel in the glory of God, revealed and imparted in His blessings and His bounty. Only then, in the full knowledge of the majesty and glory of God, and the beauty and goodness of His Creation, can we sacrifice the first-fruits of our lives with the knowledge that it is a worthy offering to the Lord.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Intercession of the Saints
A few days ago, one of my spiritual mentors died. He was a great man, a good man, both considerate and eager to laugh, and I flatter myself to consider him a good personal friend. The last time I saw him before he passed away, I asked him to pray for myself and one of my friends.
There is perhaps no Catholic doctrine that has been easier for me to accept than that of the intercession of the saints. For there is perhaps no practice more natural for someone from my background than the habit of requesting prayer from others, especially from spiritual elders. In this case, I had witnessed the fruits of the Spirit in his life, and I knew his wisdom was greater and prayer life more active than my own. There is no shame in asking for help from someone who can give it willingly.
If we accept the dogma of the active communion of the saints, then it is no great leap to treat the one as you treat the other. The universal Church is comprised both of the Church Militant among the living and the Church Triumphant among those asleep. Protestants have a habit of sending prayer requests to any among the living who will listen. Shouldn't we do the same to the saints of the Church Triumphant?
This understanding even clarifies certain aspects of Catholic canonization practices that initially struck me as 'off.' For instance, I always wondered about the idea of "patron saints." But there is a very simple explanation. If you have a prayer request for a particular issue, you go to the person who knows something about it. This is not just for the sensation of camaraderie and espirit de corps, but because they would know what to pray for even if you didn't.
If, for instance, I needed prayer support for a ministry to at-risk youth in downtown Seattle, I would probably ask for prayer from the person in my church who dealt with such things. If I needed prayer for family concerns, I'd ask someone else. If I needed prayer for a particularly challenging line of theological reflections, another person would be in the line of fire.
Individuals created in the image of God are each given the grace to reflect a particular aspect of God's nature in a manner totally unique to them. It shouldn't surprise us that, at different points in our lives, we may particularly need or desire to see one aspect of God more than another, and that the person who most reflected that would be most able to minister to us.
A while back, one of my friends was having trouble with her family. I've grown up with a pretty stable home life, so I didn't have any particular insight or any particular advice to share. As she spoke, she mentioned that her now-deceased grandmother had formerly filled that role that she was now filling, and told me how much she missed her grandmother.
If I had not felt the nudge of the Holy Spirit, I would have fled for the hills, but in that moment I knew instinctively what was about to happen. To be sure, I asked if her grandmother had been a Christian; my friend's immediate answer was "Yes." I then asked her if I could pray for her family situation. Specifically, I was going to pray about to her grandmother.
That was, without a doubt, the most carefully constructed prayer in my life. I knew the 1 Samuel passage about Saul and the witch of Endor, and I took very seriously the idea that anything resembling communicating with the dead was fraught with spiritual danger. But my friend needed prayer, prayer that I didn't feel capable of offering, prayer from someone who could relate to her struggle. She needed the prayer from her family's patron saint.
That was the first time I asked for prayer from a member of the Church Triumphant.
Why should we consider such prayers off-limits? Especially in light of my Protestant upbringing, I had both the knowledge and the desire to avoid such manifest spiritual dangers, so there was little danger of turning this intercessory request to a saint into anything resembling idolatry. I prayed with such trepidation, such fear of offending the holiness of God that I doubt I could have offended in that way.
This is not to mention the manifold benefits of such prayer requests. Saints of the Church Triumphant dwell in the constant and immediate Presence of God. There are advantages to living in such a Presence, and total communion with God is certainly one of them. At this point, with this knowledge, you'd think most of our prayer requests would be directed heavenward.
My deceased mentor, a former pastor of my church family, is now living in glory. We may mourn for the separation, and mourn for his family, and at the hole that only reunion with him can fill. But you have to remember that he's probably skipping with sheer Joy at this point, so we can't really mourn for him. If anything, the natural reaction should be to envy him. The Tenth Commandment said nothing against coveting thy neighbor's salvation!
In the meanwhile, though, as we wait and struggle (ecclesia expectans et militans), we still have friends and allies among those brothers and sisters in Christ who have preceded us. It might be nice if we could remember some of them. Dan Dungan, pastor of my church family. Stan McKnight, elder and deacon of the church. C.S. Lewis, one of the most thoroughly converted men in England. Frederic Bastiat, the man who taught me to see God's glory reflected among human communities. St. Thomas of Aquino, patron saint of theology nerds.
There is perhaps no Catholic doctrine that has been easier for me to accept than that of the intercession of the saints. For there is perhaps no practice more natural for someone from my background than the habit of requesting prayer from others, especially from spiritual elders. In this case, I had witnessed the fruits of the Spirit in his life, and I knew his wisdom was greater and prayer life more active than my own. There is no shame in asking for help from someone who can give it willingly.
If we accept the dogma of the active communion of the saints, then it is no great leap to treat the one as you treat the other. The universal Church is comprised both of the Church Militant among the living and the Church Triumphant among those asleep. Protestants have a habit of sending prayer requests to any among the living who will listen. Shouldn't we do the same to the saints of the Church Triumphant?
This understanding even clarifies certain aspects of Catholic canonization practices that initially struck me as 'off.' For instance, I always wondered about the idea of "patron saints." But there is a very simple explanation. If you have a prayer request for a particular issue, you go to the person who knows something about it. This is not just for the sensation of camaraderie and espirit de corps, but because they would know what to pray for even if you didn't.
If, for instance, I needed prayer support for a ministry to at-risk youth in downtown Seattle, I would probably ask for prayer from the person in my church who dealt with such things. If I needed prayer for family concerns, I'd ask someone else. If I needed prayer for a particularly challenging line of theological reflections, another person would be in the line of fire.
Individuals created in the image of God are each given the grace to reflect a particular aspect of God's nature in a manner totally unique to them. It shouldn't surprise us that, at different points in our lives, we may particularly need or desire to see one aspect of God more than another, and that the person who most reflected that would be most able to minister to us.
A while back, one of my friends was having trouble with her family. I've grown up with a pretty stable home life, so I didn't have any particular insight or any particular advice to share. As she spoke, she mentioned that her now-deceased grandmother had formerly filled that role that she was now filling, and told me how much she missed her grandmother.
If I had not felt the nudge of the Holy Spirit, I would have fled for the hills, but in that moment I knew instinctively what was about to happen. To be sure, I asked if her grandmother had been a Christian; my friend's immediate answer was "Yes." I then asked her if I could pray for her family situation. Specifically, I was going to pray about to her grandmother.
That was, without a doubt, the most carefully constructed prayer in my life. I knew the 1 Samuel passage about Saul and the witch of Endor, and I took very seriously the idea that anything resembling communicating with the dead was fraught with spiritual danger. But my friend needed prayer, prayer that I didn't feel capable of offering, prayer from someone who could relate to her struggle. She needed the prayer from her family's patron saint.
That was the first time I asked for prayer from a member of the Church Triumphant.
Why should we consider such prayers off-limits? Especially in light of my Protestant upbringing, I had both the knowledge and the desire to avoid such manifest spiritual dangers, so there was little danger of turning this intercessory request to a saint into anything resembling idolatry. I prayed with such trepidation, such fear of offending the holiness of God that I doubt I could have offended in that way.
This is not to mention the manifold benefits of such prayer requests. Saints of the Church Triumphant dwell in the constant and immediate Presence of God. There are advantages to living in such a Presence, and total communion with God is certainly one of them. At this point, with this knowledge, you'd think most of our prayer requests would be directed heavenward.
My deceased mentor, a former pastor of my church family, is now living in glory. We may mourn for the separation, and mourn for his family, and at the hole that only reunion with him can fill. But you have to remember that he's probably skipping with sheer Joy at this point, so we can't really mourn for him. If anything, the natural reaction should be to envy him. The Tenth Commandment said nothing against coveting thy neighbor's salvation!
In the meanwhile, though, as we wait and struggle (ecclesia expectans et militans), we still have friends and allies among those brothers and sisters in Christ who have preceded us. It might be nice if we could remember some of them. Dan Dungan, pastor of my church family. Stan McKnight, elder and deacon of the church. C.S. Lewis, one of the most thoroughly converted men in England. Frederic Bastiat, the man who taught me to see God's glory reflected among human communities. St. Thomas of Aquino, patron saint of theology nerds.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Commentary on Scripture: Romans 2
"Therefore, you have no excuse, everyone of you who passes judgment, for in that which you judge another, you condemn yourself; for you who judge practice the same things."
Romans 2:1 ~~ One of the great rhetorical reversals in the Bible, alongside Ephesians 5:25 and Amos 2:6. It is too easy to proof-text verses out of self-righteousness, to apply a verse to disparage another. While judgment is necessary for moral living, I've found it to be a useful principle to treat God's Word as first and foremost an address to each person individually. When a passage is addressed to wives, it shouldn't be read by husbands; nor should a passage to children be read by fathers; nor should a passage against the Gentiles be read by Jews. Of course there is a time and a place for reading such things, but doing so requires more maturity and discernment than I'm comfortable assuming I ordinarily possess.
Romans 2:3-4 ~~ Interestingly, this verse against judging others sheds some light on the grace of God that calls us to salvation. Paul wonders whether his audience sinned "not knowing that the kindness of God leads you to repentance." I understand that hellfire sermons (such as Jonathan Edwards' archetypal "Sinners at the Hands of an Angry God") may be effective evangelical tools for others, and while I've never found them useful myself I'm not willing to reject or repudiate them simply out of personal prejudice (I have the same response to Pascal's Wager). However, it is vital to understand that mercy and grace underlie the heart of God's message and underlie the movement of our own hearts towards him. Moreover, I find it interesting that this verse virtually conflates God's judgment with His kindness, tolerance, and patience, when most people would contrast the two.
Romans 2:6 ~~ God "will render to each person according to his deeds." This is a direct quote from Psalms 62:12 and Proverbs 24:12. It was also cited by Jesus Himself in Matthew 16:27. The theme that we will inherit according to works recurs throughout the New Testament. Paul would return to the subject in Romans 14:12, 1 Corinthians 2:13, 2 Corinthians 5:10, Ephesians 6:8, and Colossians 3:25. John the Seer repeats those same words of Christ in Revelations 2:23, and the theme reappears at the end of his apocalypse, in Revelations 20:12 and 22:12. Finally, of course, the apostle James has a whole homily on faith and works in the context of salvation in the second chapter of his epistle. Protestant Christians tend to shy away from this theme, thanks to the whole "faith v. works" dispute with Catholicism, but the major theme is restated by so many leaders of the early church that it can't and shouldn't be ignored.
Romans 2:7-8 ~~ Those who persevere in doing good, seeking "glory and honor and immortality" will be rewarded with eternal life; those who persist in selfish ambition and disobedience will receive wrath and indignation. It seems that the decision to pursue God -- however much or little we see of Him -- is made by faith operating through God's grace. However, the consequences of that pursuit, whether in wrath or in glorification, will be determined by the degree of our obedience and virtue -- that is, by works. The distinction between justification (to be made just, right with God) and sanctification (to be made holy, one with God) is in this passage crucial.
Romans 2:9-11 ~~ I find it slightly ironic and more-than-slightly challenging that, after establishing so central a distinction between Jews and Greek, in the context of both wrath and glory, Paul states that "there is no partiality with God." God's impartiality is somewhat foreign to our modern ears, conditioned by sweeping statements of human equality in courts of law. "From everyone who has been given much, much will be required..." (Luke 12:48).
Romans 2:12 ~~ Here is a crucial (and oft-overlooked) verse on justification and salvation. "For all who have sinned without the Law will also perish without the Law, and all who have sinned under the law will be judged by the Law." We are judged according to our deeds, but in light of the impartiality of God, we are judged also according to the degree of knowledge of Him we possess in our hearts. Those who only know Him by general revelation will be judged by a far lower and far gentler standard than those who have received "the oracles of God" (Romans 3:1) directly, and even that will be less severe than the judgment incurred by those who are charged with teaching the Word to others (James 3:1). Judgment is in accordance with the knowledge in our hearts.
Romans 2:14-16 ~~ These verses speak of a possibility of salvation for Gentiles who do not know the Law, and given that it speaks of them "doing instinctively the things of the Law," we can presume it refers to Gentiles who also have not yet received the Gospel. I've written on the subject before (here), but it bears repeating: I believe it is possible for someone who has not heard of Jesus Christ to be saved. Because they already have received the law (the Word) on their hearts, and Jesus is the fullness and fulfillment of that law (the Word made flesh), if they maintain their obedience and desire for that Word (if by God's grace they persevere in doing good, cf. 2:7), that obedience and desire is honored by God despite their lack of knowledge.
Romans 2:17-18 ~~ Those who receive the Law are confident in their ability to be a "guide to the blind" (to those who are unable to see or walk by themselves), a "light to those in darkness" (those who can walk, but are unable to see much at all), a "corrector to the foolish" (those who can both see and walk, but do both poorly), and a "teacher to the infants" (those who can see, but are unable to walk far at all).
Romans 2:17-24 ~~ Here, again, the principle of 2:12 is applied to the Jew. Those who receive God's Word in its fullness will be judged by the fullness of His Word. Therefore the Jew is condemned by the Law.
Romans 2:27-29 ~~ The righteousness of the Gentiles (who lack such immediate knowledge of God) put the average (sinful) Jew to shame. It is better to follow God's commands in light of our Christian liberty (the end of our slavery to sin, cf. Galatians 5:1) than to obey the Law without such consciousness.
The principle of judgment according to deeds and according to knowledge is a difficult one, and its difficulty is compounded by contrast with the classic Pauline (and Protestant) emphasis on justification by faith. Nevertheless, these principles are compatible and mutually necessary for a full understanding of the Divine Economy (God's grace and His works among us), and thus I find it necessary to revisit and seek clarity in the midst of these confusing doctrines.
Romans 2:1 ~~ One of the great rhetorical reversals in the Bible, alongside Ephesians 5:25 and Amos 2:6. It is too easy to proof-text verses out of self-righteousness, to apply a verse to disparage another. While judgment is necessary for moral living, I've found it to be a useful principle to treat God's Word as first and foremost an address to each person individually. When a passage is addressed to wives, it shouldn't be read by husbands; nor should a passage to children be read by fathers; nor should a passage against the Gentiles be read by Jews. Of course there is a time and a place for reading such things, but doing so requires more maturity and discernment than I'm comfortable assuming I ordinarily possess.
Romans 2:3-4 ~~ Interestingly, this verse against judging others sheds some light on the grace of God that calls us to salvation. Paul wonders whether his audience sinned "not knowing that the kindness of God leads you to repentance." I understand that hellfire sermons (such as Jonathan Edwards' archetypal "Sinners at the Hands of an Angry God") may be effective evangelical tools for others, and while I've never found them useful myself I'm not willing to reject or repudiate them simply out of personal prejudice (I have the same response to Pascal's Wager). However, it is vital to understand that mercy and grace underlie the heart of God's message and underlie the movement of our own hearts towards him. Moreover, I find it interesting that this verse virtually conflates God's judgment with His kindness, tolerance, and patience, when most people would contrast the two.
Romans 2:6 ~~ God "will render to each person according to his deeds." This is a direct quote from Psalms 62:12 and Proverbs 24:12. It was also cited by Jesus Himself in Matthew 16:27. The theme that we will inherit according to works recurs throughout the New Testament. Paul would return to the subject in Romans 14:12, 1 Corinthians 2:13, 2 Corinthians 5:10, Ephesians 6:8, and Colossians 3:25. John the Seer repeats those same words of Christ in Revelations 2:23, and the theme reappears at the end of his apocalypse, in Revelations 20:12 and 22:12. Finally, of course, the apostle James has a whole homily on faith and works in the context of salvation in the second chapter of his epistle. Protestant Christians tend to shy away from this theme, thanks to the whole "faith v. works" dispute with Catholicism, but the major theme is restated by so many leaders of the early church that it can't and shouldn't be ignored.
Romans 2:7-8 ~~ Those who persevere in doing good, seeking "glory and honor and immortality" will be rewarded with eternal life; those who persist in selfish ambition and disobedience will receive wrath and indignation. It seems that the decision to pursue God -- however much or little we see of Him -- is made by faith operating through God's grace. However, the consequences of that pursuit, whether in wrath or in glorification, will be determined by the degree of our obedience and virtue -- that is, by works. The distinction between justification (to be made just, right with God) and sanctification (to be made holy, one with God) is in this passage crucial.
Romans 2:9-11 ~~ I find it slightly ironic and more-than-slightly challenging that, after establishing so central a distinction between Jews and Greek, in the context of both wrath and glory, Paul states that "there is no partiality with God." God's impartiality is somewhat foreign to our modern ears, conditioned by sweeping statements of human equality in courts of law. "From everyone who has been given much, much will be required..." (Luke 12:48).
Romans 2:12 ~~ Here is a crucial (and oft-overlooked) verse on justification and salvation. "For all who have sinned without the Law will also perish without the Law, and all who have sinned under the law will be judged by the Law." We are judged according to our deeds, but in light of the impartiality of God, we are judged also according to the degree of knowledge of Him we possess in our hearts. Those who only know Him by general revelation will be judged by a far lower and far gentler standard than those who have received "the oracles of God" (Romans 3:1) directly, and even that will be less severe than the judgment incurred by those who are charged with teaching the Word to others (James 3:1). Judgment is in accordance with the knowledge in our hearts.
Romans 2:14-16 ~~ These verses speak of a possibility of salvation for Gentiles who do not know the Law, and given that it speaks of them "doing instinctively the things of the Law," we can presume it refers to Gentiles who also have not yet received the Gospel. I've written on the subject before (here), but it bears repeating: I believe it is possible for someone who has not heard of Jesus Christ to be saved. Because they already have received the law (the Word) on their hearts, and Jesus is the fullness and fulfillment of that law (the Word made flesh), if they maintain their obedience and desire for that Word (if by God's grace they persevere in doing good, cf. 2:7), that obedience and desire is honored by God despite their lack of knowledge.
Romans 2:17-18 ~~ Those who receive the Law are confident in their ability to be a "guide to the blind" (to those who are unable to see or walk by themselves), a "light to those in darkness" (those who can walk, but are unable to see much at all), a "corrector to the foolish" (those who can both see and walk, but do both poorly), and a "teacher to the infants" (those who can see, but are unable to walk far at all).
Romans 2:17-24 ~~ Here, again, the principle of 2:12 is applied to the Jew. Those who receive God's Word in its fullness will be judged by the fullness of His Word. Therefore the Jew is condemned by the Law.
Romans 2:27-29 ~~ The righteousness of the Gentiles (who lack such immediate knowledge of God) put the average (sinful) Jew to shame. It is better to follow God's commands in light of our Christian liberty (the end of our slavery to sin, cf. Galatians 5:1) than to obey the Law without such consciousness.
The principle of judgment according to deeds and according to knowledge is a difficult one, and its difficulty is compounded by contrast with the classic Pauline (and Protestant) emphasis on justification by faith. Nevertheless, these principles are compatible and mutually necessary for a full understanding of the Divine Economy (God's grace and His works among us), and thus I find it necessary to revisit and seek clarity in the midst of these confusing doctrines.
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