St. Augustine said that the Old Testament is the New Testament veiled, and the New Testament is the Old Testament unveiled. We can see this in the five books of Moses, also known as the Torah or Pentateuch. These books explain how the Chosen People (Israel) came into existence, how God delivered them from Egypt, and the type of worship, social organization, and doctrines/morals He willed them to have. When interpreted allegorically, these five books point to the salvation of the individual Christian as lived in the Catholic Church:
If the theory of evolution is false, I wish I lived after it had been definitively proven false.*
If the theory of evolution is true,** I wish I had lived before Darwin proposed it.
*I don’t believe that the theory has been definitively proven false.
**I don’t believe that the theory has been definitively proven true.
In my previous post, I discussed the commemoration of the martyr St. Anastasia at the Mass at dawn on Christmas Day. I focused on St. Anastasia’s name, which recalls the Resurrection of Our Lord. In this post, I will discuss the location of the station church for the Christmas Mass at dawn, namely the Basilica of Sant’Anastasia al Palatino. This basilica is located on the Palatine Hill in Rome. I will argue that this location is especially fitting for a celebration of Christ’s Birth in the Grotto of Bethlehem.
Circumstances of Our Lord’s Birth
To begin with, let’s consider some circumstances of Our Lord’s Birth. Our Lord was born in a cave or grotto in the countryside outside of Bethlehem. Despite the humble trappings of His Birth, Our Lord was the King of Israel and the Son of God. He was miraculously conceived of the Virgin Mary, and was born without damage to Her virginity. Our Lady laid the Infant in a manger; the cave was used as a sheepfold, and shepherds came to pay Him homage. Fearing that Our Lord would seize his throne, Herod the Great sought to kill Him, and did in fact massacre the other male infants of Bethlehem. As a result, the Holy Family fled into exile.
Romulus, Remus, and the Palatine
Many of the circumstances of Our Lord’s Birth find a parallel, or a pointed contrast, in the legend of the birth of Romulus and Remus, the twin founders of Rome.* Continue reading
(This is the first of two posts about the Solemnity of Christmas. While I had intended to post these on Christmas Day, at least I am doing so within the Octave.)
If you pay attention to the liturgy, then you might be aware that we honor a string of martyrs immediately after Christmas: St. Stephen the Protomartyr on Dec. 26, the Holy Innocents on Dec. 28, and St. Thomas Becket on Dec. 30. The joy of Christmas is tied to the witness of the martyrs; the Incarnation of Our Lord calls forth this witness on our part. That is the Providence of celebrating these martyrs within the Octave of Christmas.
In this post, I’ll focus on a martyr of the Christmas Octave who is often overlooked: St. Anastasia. I’ll also explore the significance of her name, which means “Resurrection.” Continue reading
Charity: that principle which bids us allow, though the bulk of our fellow men be on the road to hell, at least it’s a road paved with good intentions.
Here are some reasons to oppose the notion of female cardinals. For the sake of argument, we’re defining “female cardinal” as a woman who is given the canonical right to vote in a papal conclave. Not every cardinal has been ordained, so female ordination (a metaphysical impossibility) is not a necessary condition for a woman being appointed cardinal. It seems to be possible, at least, to appoint a woman as a papal elector. However, here are reasons why the notion is absurd: Continue reading
Famously, Protestants removed the seven so-called deuterocanonical books* from the Bible, as well as parts of Esther and Daniel. By the Protestants’ count, there are 66 books in the Bible, 39 in the Old Testament and 27 in the New Testament. If you add the Deuterocanonical Books, you’d expect Catholics to have 73 books in the Bible. However, the number 72 has a tempting number of mystical resonances,* so there is a tradition among Catholic exegetes to treat Lamentations as an appendix to the Book of Jeremias (aka Jeremiah), thereby giving us 72 books as follows:
- 45 books in the Old Testament
- 27 books in the New Testament
Note the proportion of 45:27. Each number is divisible by nine, giving us the proportion 5:3. Is there any significance to the Old Testament claiming 5/8ths of the books in the Bible and the New Testament claiming 3/8ths? Continue reading
What if I told you that I could prove most of the “controversial” Marian doctrines, such as Our Lady’s status as Mediatrix of All Graces and Co-Redemptrix, from the words of the Annunciation and the Visitation? And on top of that, the key to unlocking the mysteries of these two passages comes from the First Book of Samuel?
Mary: The Blessed Handmaid of the Lord
I start my case with two expressions found in the first chapter of St. Luke’s Gospel:
1.) At the Annunciation, Our Lady consents to the archangel Gabriel’s message with the following words (St. Luke 1:38):
“Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done to me according to thy word.” (Douay-Rheims translation)
Here’s the Latin version from the Vulgate:
Ecce ancilla Domini: fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum. Continue reading
This Sunday (Sept. 2), I was blessed with the opportunity to attend Mass twice. The first was a Traditional Latin Mass (TLM) at a nearby parish, the second a Novus Ordo at my own parish. It was a study in contrasts.
Normally, a traditionalist-leaning person such as myself would provide a quite predictable contrast between the TLM and the Novus Ordo. The emphasis would be on how becoming and wonderful and great and holy and awe-inspiring (and masculine!) the TLM was, versus how low-brow, saccharine, maudlin, mawkish, and irreverent (and effeminate!) the Novus Ordo was.
This will not be my approach here; I am far too contrarian to offer you the same old color-by-numbers trad whining that you can find elsewhere. I’m not denying the obvious contrasts between the two rites, nor my preference for the TLM. Rather, I will focus on the two homilies. On the whole, I found the homily delivered at the Novus Ordo more challenging and fulfilling. Let us begin: Continue reading
I have a problem. My father died when I was 18, leaving my mother a widow. My mother’s next-door neighbor harasses her in ways I won’t go into. It’s fair to say that he is attempting to drive her out of her home by these acts of terrorism. It’s a game to him, and the police are useless (useless). It doesn’t help that, in addition to being a widow, my mother is also a cripple; she is bound to a wheelchair. I live 90 miles from my mother and am not in a position to help her redress the recurring acts of harassment. And I am my mother’s only child.
As we know from multiple passages of the Bible that I don’t need to cite here, God has prepared a special place in Hell for people who molest widows. When my mother tells me of the latest harassment, I want revenge. Not merely justice restored or peaceful reconciliation, but sinful retaliation in kind. And I want it *now.* I commit the sin of hatred when instead I am called to love and pray for and forgive my mother’s persecutor. For a Christian, this is a fundamental rejection of a core commandment of the Gospel. It is a repudiation of the Sermon on the Mount, and hence a repudiation of Christ Himself.
Here is the quandary. I go to Confession once every few weeks, and Holy Communion more often, yet every time I hear about my mother’s suffering at the hands of her neighbor, I am very strongly tempted in this way, and I often succumb to the sin of wrath. Why do the Sacraments not provide me sufficient grace to meet each new provocation with grace, patience, and benignity? Continue reading