The saints are the hermeneuts of the Scriptures. Pope Benedict XVI reminds us of this in Verbum Domini: ”The interpretation of Sacred Scripture would remain incomplete were it not to include listening to those who have truly lived the word of God: namely, the saints” (VD 48).
C. S. Lewis’ last sermon (since he was a layman he said he was “comparing notes”) was titled “A Slip of the Tongue.” He reflects on an experience of his in prayer:
Samantha and her boyfriend Joe, two seniors at Villa Maria College, are walking down Pine Ridge Heritage Boulevard after class on Friday. They make a right turn onto Doat Street and stroll half a mile to find a beautiful old stone monastery on their left. As they pause to examine the building Joe asks the first question:
Joe: What’s that old building doing in the middle of these suburbs? It seems a little out of place.
Samantha: Well, it only seems out of place today. This whole area used to be farmland, you know, and the monastery fit right in back then.
Christmas is over. It’s time to get prepared for the next national Holy Day of Consumer Obligation: Valentine’s Day. This, at least, is the message I get from the world when I’ve just begun to celebrate the Octave of Christmas. In a way, however, the Church is also asking us to move beyond Christmas. How so?
I enjoy reading Edward O. Wilson much more than Richard Dawkins, and recently I started to ask myself why this might be. Both are good writers and present difficult scientific concepts in easy-to-understand language. Both work in the controversial area of sociobiology and the evolution of human beings. Both are post-Christian thinkers with little interest in the nuances and delicacies of theological reasoning. What separates these two men? And, even when we don’t agree with him, what makes Wilson so appealing and interesting? I think it comes down to the fact that, while Dawkins is a biologist, Wilson is a naturalist.
Like 99.9% of the world’s population, I don’t enjoy getting sick. The constant runny nose, soreness of the entire body, continuous coughing, and that neat “head stuck in a fishbowl” feeling are just some of the lovely effects of even the most common of common colds. I don’t even like thinking about being sick, but with the cold season upon us, I find myself doing just that—then popping another zinc tablet.
I still remember the first time I encountered the writings of St. Augustine. I was taking a class called “Augustine and Aquinas” in college and had to read Augustine’s Confessions alongside Aquinas’s Compendium of Theology. The difference between the two was striking. Compare Aquinas and Augustine on man’s last end:
Our natural desire for knowledge cannot come to rest within us until we know the first cause, and that not in any way, but in its very essence. This first cause is God. Consequently, the ultimate end of an intellectual creature is the vision of God in His Essence. (Compendium, 104)
And now Augustine:
You stir man to take pleasure in praising you, because you have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you. (Confessions, I.1)
Which one do you think captivated a college student in search of God?
The paralyzing effect of a seemingly limitless number of options is new to none of us. Today we experience it quite frequently: at local restaurants, in shopping centers, or—especially pertinent during these summer months—when choosing ice cream flavors. With so many options, how am I supposed to make the “right” decision? What is the “best” side dish or main course, shirt or pair of sunglasses, ice cream cone or sundae? On the other hand, maybe I want a milkshake . . .
One of the wonderful parts of summer ministry is meeting new people and hearing each other’s stories. For me this also involves a certain challenge: in telling people who I am it invariably comes out that I have studied for the Episcopal priesthood but converted to Catholicism. This almost always prompts the difficult but reasonable question, “What made you convert to Catholicism?” Now I find myself in the company of blessed Cardinal Newman, who responded to a similar inquiry at a dinner party by saying that it was not something one could propound “between the soup and fish courses.”
“This is a modest book with an immodest purpose: to convince Christians that war has been abolished. The grammar of that sentence is very important: the past tense is deliberate. I do not want to convince Christians to work for the abolition of war, but rather I want us to live recognizing that in the cross of Christ war has already been abolished.”
—Stanley Hauerwas, War and the American Difference
Although I am not a pacifist, there are certainly compelling reasons for being one.