Tag: Church History

7 min read

Church Seasons and Feasts

St. John Lateran Basilica

D.D. Emmons

November 7, 2024 2:00 am November 7, 2024

7 min read

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7 min read

St. John Lateran Basilica in Rome is considered the mother church of all the Catholic churches in the Western world; inscribed on the church facade for all to see are…

St. John Lateran Basilica in Rome is considered the mother church of all the Catholic churches in the Western world; inscribed on the church facade for all to see are the Latin words “omnium urbis et orbis ecclesiarum mater et caput,” meaning, “The mother and head of all the churches of the city and of the world.”

But why is this particular church so important to our Catholic faith that it is designated as the “mother church,” and so prominent that it garners a feast day on the Church liturgical calendar?

In first-century Rome, a palace existed adjacent to the site where the basilica would eventually be built. The palace belonged to Plautius Lateranus, and through the centuries it became known as the Lateran Palace. The Roman Emperor Nero (r. 54-68) confiscated this property from Lateranus, and in the early fourth century it came into the possession of Emperor Constantine the Great when he became emperor of the Western Roman Empire. Constantine, convinced that all his military and political successes were gifts from the Christian God, was favorably disposed to Christianity and eventually ended the persecution of religious groups while extending special attention and support to the followers of Jesus. In 312, he gave the Lateran Palace to Pope Melchiades (also known as Militades), and it became the residence of the popes for the next 1,000 years.

St. John Lateran

After emerging as ruler of all the Roman Empire, Constantine began building places of worship for Christians throughout his vast empire, and the earliest Christian basilica in the West was the Lateran Basilica, which he located next to the pope’s palace. Around 324, at the urging, or perhaps insistence, of Constantine, it was dedicated to Our Most Holy Savior by Pope St. Sylvester.

The basilica was twice rededicated, first in the 10th century to St. John the Baptist, and again in the 12th century to St John the Evangelist. The official title of this church is the Archbasilica of the Most Holy Savior and of Sts. John the Baptist and the Evangelist at the Lateran. It is best known as St. John Lateran.

The building of the Lateran Basilica not only gave the Christians of Rome an exclusive place for worship, but architecturally equaled or exceeded any of the monuments previously raised to the pagan gods. This was a momentous period not only in Rome but in both the history of the world and the history of Christianity. The early historian Eusebius of Caesarea (263-340) wrote, “After this was seen the sight which had been desired and prayed for by us all; feasts of dedication in the cities and consecrations of the newly built houses of prayer took place, bishops assembled, foreigners came together from abroad, mutual love was exhibited between people and people, the members of Christ’s body were united in complete harmony” (“The History of the Church,” Book X, Chapter III).

The use of the Lateran Palace as a papal residence ended in 1309 when the popes moved to Avignon, France, and stayed there for nearly 70 years. The Holy See returned to Rome in 1377, but the Lateran facilities were in such a deteriorated state that the pope’s living quarters were relocated, eventually to Vatican Hill, where the pope still resides. The Lateran Basilica and Palace were mostly rebuilt in 1586, and despite the permanent relocation of the pope’s living quarters, the basilica has remained the primary church of the Roman pontiff.

A feast day

The feast day honoring the dedication of St. John Lateran was introduced in the 12th century and was initially celebrated only in the city of Rome. In 1726, Pope Benedict XIII ordered a worldwide commemoration of the basilica as a sign of universal Catholic unity. The feast is celebrated on Nov. 9 and is known today as “The Feast of the Dedication of St. John Lateran Basilica.”

The intent behind the annual feast day is to encourage Catholics to keep strong ties to our past and to the universal Catholic Church. The building of St. John Lateran was a mark of religious freedom. Christians could worship without fear and in a church of their own. Through the grace of God the followers of Jesus had persevered over sufferings and persecutions; Christianity had been granted both legal recognition and public security. What joy those early Christians must have experienced in this newfound freedom, what excitement in joining together in their own house of worship which some historians claim held 10,000 people. This feast day reminds us of our Catholic heritage, the significant role the dedication of the Lateran Basilica played in that heritage and the courage of those first followers of Christ and the importance of uniting ourselves to the Holy See. As the pope is our universal pastor, the Lateran is our universal church.

Lateran Treaty

From the eighth through the middle of the 19th century, the papacy had been gifted with many territories, including much of central Italy. That area, stretching from the Mediterranean to the Adriatic Sea, became known as the Papal States and geographically split Italy in two. In 1870, King Victor Emmanuel II, as part of his effort to unite all of Italy and establish a new government, annexed the Papal States and occupied the city of Rome in a movement called the Risorgimento. The new government essentially took the Papal States and Rome away from the pope. Pope Pius IX (r. 1846-1878) reacted by excommunicating everyone involved with the invasion.

The king attempted to treat the papacy diplomatically and offered Pius that the pope could keep Vatican City, the palaces and churches, the liberty to conduct religious activities, receive financial compensation for the Papal States and even have authority to conduct diplomatic relations. Pope Pius stated firmly that the state government had illegally seized Rome and the Papal States. Further, and most importantly, he claimed that he would not be put in a position of being subject to the Italian government as required by King Victor Emmanuel. He declared himself “a prisoner of the Vatican” and retreated into the Vatican palace from which he and the popes who followed refused to leave for the next 59 years. This situation, or standoff, became known as the Roman Question.

In early 1929, after many of the original principals associated with the Roman Question had died and the political situation had changed, the Vatican and the Italian government ended this problem. Pope Pius XI recognized the Kingdom of Italy with the city of Rome as the capital and officially ceded the Papal States to the government. In return, the government agreed to recognize the Vatican as a sovereign state with its own police force, post office, newspaper and radio station. The Vatican could exchange diplomatic emissaries as it deemed necessary. The papacy would possess Vatican City and all the palaces and churches including those extraterritorial possessions like St. John Lateran and the pope’s summer home, Castel Gandolfo. Other concessions included a financial payment to the Vatican for the annexation of the Papal States, and the government agreed that the Catholic Church would be identified as the state church of Italy. There was no mention of the pope being subject to the Italian government. Treaties reflecting these agreements were signed in the Lateran Palace on Feb. 11, 1929. The Holy See was now a national state, independent of Italy, with its own head of state (the pope), government and church. The Lateran Agreement was superseded by a new concordat between the Holy See and the Italian government in June 1985.

Dennis Emmons writes from Mount Joy, Pa.

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9 min read

Scripture

What We Believe, Part 15: The Characteristics of Vatican II

Father Joshua J. Whitfield

October 11, 2024 5:09 am October 11, 2024

9 min read

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9 min read

Why did Pope St. John XXIII call the Second Vatican Council? And what was the Council about? Taking stock of the state of theology and the life of the Church…

Why did Pope St. John XXIII call the Second Vatican Council? And what was the Council about? Taking stock of the state of theology and the life of the Church in the 20th century, one could suggest several reasons. At the end of the day, though, it should be remembered and taken seriously that John XXIII claimed the Holy Spirit’s inspiration for calling the Council. It is quite reasonable to suggest — and also helpful to remember — this: that Vatican II was the work of the Spirit.

Before exploring the answer to this question any further, though, we should admit that Vatican II, even today, evokes a wide range of emotions. Some, for instance, think Vatican II the worst thing to happen to the Church. With it came innovations and departures from the ancient faith so horrific, it’s claimed, that many have broken away or fallen away from the Church because of it. However, on the other end, others think Vatican II changed all the mean and nasty things about Catholicism, freeing modern Catholics to be good secular liberals unbothered by a primitive creed. Here, people talk about things like the “spirit of Vatican II” but without being able to tell you where in the documents of Vatican II it says exactly what they’re saying, because it turns out they’ve not really read the documents.

These, obviously, are two extreme reactions to Vatican II, found more and more on the margins of Catholic experience these days, yet still very much present in the Church. The truth of the matter, though, is that to understand Vatican II, one must accept it as an ecumenical council of the Catholic Church and that the teaching of Vatican II is expressed faithfully in the Council’s documents themselves. That is, the “spirit of Vatican II” is found in the documents themselves, read and interpreted within the communion of the Church. Thus, to understand Vatican II genuinely, as well as modern Catholicism, one must become familiar with the Council’s documents — reading them well. And you don’t have to be a theologian to do that; you just have to know how to read.

But still, what was the Council about? Speaking personally, as a former Anglican, I’ve always thought it to be significant that the Council was called on Jan. 25 — the feast of the Conversion of St. Paul. You see, this feast concludes the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, a week in which Christians worldwide pray for the reunification of Christian believers. It was begun as the “Christian Unity Octave” by Father Paul Wattson and the Society of the Atonement just after he and other members of the society converted to Catholicism from the Episcopal Church. This “Christian Unity Octave” by the 1920s and 1930s would be celebrated all over the Catholic world; by midcentury, Protestant bodies too would join in this endeavor of prayer. And so, that John XXIII called Vatican II at this time hints at what he hoped would be a major focus of the Council — healing the unity of Christians. Remember John 17.

But, of course, there was much more to it than that. Exploring the “why” of Vatican II, one place to begin is to read John XXIII’s opening address to the Council from October 1962. “Our duty is not only to guard this precious treasure,” he said, “but to dedicate ourselves with an earnest will and without fear to that work which our era demands of us.” His hope was that the Church would offer a fresh presentation of the Catholic faith in “perfect conformity to the authentic doctrine.” Making use of modern “methods of research” and embracing “the literary forms of modern thought,” the pope wanted the Church to speak clearly to the modern world, which he made clear necessitated a rethinking. For the “substance of the ancient doctrine of the deposit of faith is one thing, and the way in which it is presented is another.” Now what John XXIII was saying is that it’s not the Faith that’s changing, but the presentation of the Faith. He said the Church must think about the delivery of the Faith, finding ways to articulate the Faith in a reasonable, sophisticated manner that is neither fideism nor fundamentalism. John XXIII had a great deal of trust in the reasonableness of faith. The Church wasn’t meant to retreat from the world; quite the contrary. The Council’s task was to take the deposit of faith and deliver it to the world in an authentic way, without intellectual cowardice or bravado but, he said, in a “predominantly pastoral” way. That is, Vatican II wasn’t primarily about articulating theology or doctrine — as, say, in the Council of Nicaea when the fathers articulated the divinity of Christ (homoousios) — but about the pastoral articulation of the Faith.

One feature, different from other ecumenical councils, indicating this new pastoral approach is that Vatican II communicated in an entirely new idiom. It promulgated no disciplinary canons, for example, although it did inaugurate the revision of the Code of Canon Law that would come to fruition in 1983. Vatican II pronounced no anathemas as did the Council of Trent. The tone of the documents of Vatican II are completely different. They are persuasive and evocative — conversational. That is, the texts are dialogical. Gaudium et spes — the Council’s Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World — for example, reads like an invitation to the world to talk about truth, goodness and peace. It’s a profoundly hopeful and open document, not defensive or condemning.

John O’Malley’s indispensable book on the Council, “What Happened at Vatican II,” notes the common characteristics of Vatican II summed up in three concepts — aggiornamento, the development of doctrine and ressourcement. The first idea, and the one associated most readily with Vatican II is aggiornamento, which can mean “updating” or “refreshing.” It means something like what John XXIII meant when he said he wanted to “open the windows of the Church and let some fresh air in.” It’s what he talked about in his opening address — not changing the Faith at all but refreshing it, updating it.

The other characteristic of Vatican II — the development of doctrine — is an idea associated with the work of St. John Henry Newman, who is in a sense one of the intellectual fathers of Vatican II. He wasn’t present at the Council. He had been dead for 70 years by the time it began. One of the most famous modern converts to Catholicism — from the Church of England — he was a great theologian and man of letters. His book, “An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine,” which he wrote while still in the process of converting to Catholicism, made a simple but profound observation about the Christian faith. And that is — although there is the deposit of faith, revealed truth from Scripture and the Holy Spirit — the articulation of the faith develops over time. Now this idea for many was and remains controversial. Fundamentalists, of course, hate it. Many Eastern Orthodox theologians don’t much care for it either. But Newman’s point was basically this: Christian doctrine is sharpened, better articulated, and is expressed more clearly as it needs to be over time. Take, for example, the dogma of the Trinity. We believe that God is Father, Son and Holy Spirit. However, that dogma wasn’t fully articulated until 381. Why? Because, as Newman pointed out, there wasn’t any reason to articulate it fully until a fight broke out about it. The Church articulated definitively the full divinity of Christ only when Arius started causing trouble by questioning it. And after Nicaea, people were questioning the divinity of the Holy Spirit — they were called pneumatomachians, meaning “Spirit-fighters” — forcing the Church to articulate more clearly her belief in the Holy Spirit. And so, as history progresses, doctrine is better articulated. That’s what Newman meant by “development,” and it was an idea fundamental to Vatican II.

The last concept intrinsic to council, ressourcement, came about from around the turn of the 20th century, among theologians mainly in France who started doing theology in a new way. This new way — associated with Jesuits like Henri de Lubac and Gaston Fessard and Dominicans such as Marie-Dominique Chenu and Yves Congar — came to be called nouvelle théologie. But it was a way of doing theology that really wasn’t new at all; it was just different for its time. Sarah Shortall’s book, “Soldiers of God in a Secular World,” tells the story of this important theological movement. Neo-Scholasticism dominated theology in the 19th and early 20th centuries, and that was theology done propositionally, so to speak. That is, one defined terms and logically placed one’s propositions in logical order. The theologians of this nouvelle théologie, however, were committed to ressourcement, which simply means “return to the sources.” To understand the deposit of the faith and to articulate it theologically, these theologians went back to Scripture and to the early Fathers of the Church. Essentially, their method was this: If you want to know something about the Eucharist — for instance, transubstantiation — how should you study it? Well, you begin with the sources, with the Eucharist as it’s treated in Scripture. Then you explore what the early theologians believed and taught; then study the eucharistic controversies of the 10th century, and so on. By that method, exploring the sources of the Christian faith, a person can better understand what the Church means when it uses the word “transubstantiation.” And that’s better than simply taking a word and defining it in unhistorical abstraction — like “transubstantiation is X.” You see the difference? Ressourcement is a return to the sources that better helps us understand how ideas took shape within history. And it was a new way of doing theology in the first half of the 20th century, and one which shaped not just Vatican II but the whole of modern Catholicism.

Father Joshua J. Whitfield is pastor of St. Rita Catholic Community in Dallas and author of “The Crisis of Bad Preaching” (Ave Maria Press, $17.95) and other books. Read more from the series here.

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8 min read

The Church

What is heraldry in the Catholic Church?

Michael R. Heinlein

October 10, 2024 7:15 am October 10, 2024

8 min read

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8 min read

Ecclesiastical heraldry is both familiar and mysterious. Frequently seen in one form or another, coats of arms pervade our Catholic culture in numerous ways: on letters and newspapers, diocesan websites…

Ecclesiastical heraldry is both familiar and mysterious.

Frequently seen in one form or another, coats of arms pervade our Catholic culture in numerous ways: on letters and newspapers, diocesan websites and Twitter pages, in Roman churches and diocesan cathedrals. Most Catholics, though, are unaware of the significance of this time-honored practice.

Steeped in tradition, ecclesiastical heraldry is a regulated system of self-identification, adopted by the Church from medieval society, which operates as a science and an art form with its own rules and regulations.

A heraldic achievement, also called a coat of arms, is permitted lawfully for those who occupy ecclesiastical office — for example, popes, cardinals, archbishops, bishops, monsignors, priests, religious superiors such as abbots and abbesses — as well as ecclesiastical territories and institutions — for example, dioceses, religious orders, papal knighthoods, basilicas, cathedrals, parish churches, schools and other Catholic institutions. While heraldry runs the risk of being seen as haughty or pompous, in reality it simply seeks to graphically herald (or announce) — in color and symbol — who and what the bearer is.

Identification

The use of artistic elements to identify personages, locations and possessions first existed in pre-Christian societies. Pharaohs of ancient Egypt offer one of the earliest precursors of heraldic practices. Their various holdings of goods and properties were identified with the symbols found in the cartouche, an oval symbol containing personal hieroglyphics with a distinct line at the bottom indicating royalty. Likewise, the Book of Numbers provides evidence that standards and symbols were used by the tribes of the nomadic Israelites in early biblical times (see 1:2,18,52).

The papal coat of arms of Pope Benedict XVI (2005-2013). Shutterstock

Modern heraldry finds its origins with the Battle of Hastings in 1066 — illustrated in the famous Bayeux Tapestry — when knights concealed by battle armor were first identified with decorated shields. Later developments incorporated the shield design into body coats, banners and even coverings for horses. These coats of arms subsequently became synonymous with the knight’s family, especially following the Third Crusade (1189-92). The shape and character of ecclesiastical heraldry are closely tied to these developments since the Church adopted many of the customs and traditions of the culture.

As feudal and belligerent Europe shifted into the structures of nobility and royalty, familial arms were used much as in ancient Egypt — to identify themselves and their possessions. Similar measures of personal identification were incorporated into items such as seals (often part of rings), which were legally mandated for use on documents and letters as a means to provide authenticity and prevent forgery.

Because noble status and property was inherited by the oldest son through primogeniture, the youngest son was typically offered for service in the Church. Familial arms continued to be used by those appointed to such ecclesiastical positions of jurisdiction and authority, although they were typically modified for ecclesiastical use by removing warlike symbols. Many sources indicate that the first bishop known to do so was Guy of Vergy, bishop of Autun in the early 13th century. A personal papal coat of arms — other than just the standard tiara and keys indicative of papal office — was first used during the pontificate of Pope Martin V (1417-31). Use of heraldry by all ecclesiastical officeholders became a standardized means of self-identification beginning in the 17th century.

Heraldry’s Rules

Because a coat of arms seeks to identify its bearer, each must be unique — like a passport or Social Security number. Therefore, offices and methods for documentation and legislation for both secular and ecclesiastical heraldry were established, the most notable and enduring secular example being the College of Arms established in England by King Richard III in 1484. Initial codification of heraldry in the Church coincided with widespread practice by the 17th century through a system of ecclesiastical headgear developed by French heraldist and printer Pierre Palliot.

Although the jurisprudence of secular heraldry significantly weighs upon the Church’s heraldic tradition, it was also shaped by the development of doctrinal, liturgical and canonical factors. The Church itself began to systematically regulate her heraldry in 1905, with Pope St. Pius X’s establishment of the Heraldry Commission of the Roman Curia, an office abolished in 1960 by Pope St. John XXIII.

The papal coat of arms of Pope St. John Paul II (1978-2005). He was the last pope to adopt the triple tiara of the popes. Shutterstock

At the end of the subsequent decade, with the approval of Pope Paul VI, three specialists published Rubrica Araldica Vaticana — the compendium of rules governing ecclesiastical heraldry today. Likewise, the Vatican Secretariat of State issued Ut sive sollicite in 1969, a brief instruction on coats of arms and other honorifics for cardinals, bishops and other prelates. Current scholarly interest in the field is reinforced by the laudable and exhaustive 2014 manual of ecclesiastical heraldry published by Cardinal Andrea Cordero Lanza di Montezemolo, a leading heraldic authority and designer of Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI’s coat of arms.

An equally significant aspect of heraldry’s regulations is the centuries’ old linguistic components governing it. In effect, heraldry has its own language.

Even today, the artistic rendering of a coat of arms is accompanied by a lengthy explanation written in blazon — heraldry’s own language. Coming from a word from French for “shield,” blazon combines terms of Old English and French resulting in a language with a distinctive word order, vocabulary and grammar. Blazon describes a coat of arms with such detail that it is possible to be artistically reproduced by anyone familiar with the lexicon. Coats of arms are described in Latin from the bearer’s point of view, left and right for the viewer correspondingly are called dexter and sinister.

A coat of arms for each ecclesiastical order, office, rank or institution contains several symbolic elements. External elements to the coat of arms describe what office and jurisdiction the bearer holds, while interior elements describe the bearer.

Starting at the uppermost part, replacing the knight’s helmet or monarch’s crown on the crest of secular arms, most ecclesiastical arms are topped with a galero — a hat now only used in ceremonial depictions.

The unique and central part of any coat of arms is the shield. Most shields for cardinals and bishops are impaled — a combination of two parts often indicating occupation of an office — in which the arms of the bearer’s diocese are seen on the left and personal arms are on the right. Examples of those bearing only their personal arms are titular bishops such as auxiliaries, some cardinals and officials in the Roman Curia or cardinals not ordained as bishops. Behind a bishop’s shield is a processional cross denoting rank in the episcopate: one horizontal bar indicates a bishop or two indicates an archbishop. The cross is replaced by a crosier for those with ordinary jurisdiction who are not bishops, such as abbots or the ordinaries of the Anglican Ordinariates. Because they occupy positions of jurisdiction, male and female religious superiors are entitled to bear a coat of arms, although the only one of those which might be impaled is an abbot’s with the arms of his abbey.

The coat of arms of Cardinal Angelo Scola, Archbishop of Milan since 2012, and previously the Patriarch of Venice. Shutterstock

A quick glance at a coat of arms, then, provides important information. Looking at the coat of arms of Cardinal Angelo Scola depicted on Page 28, the following facts about him can be deduced by reading his coat of arms: The coat of arms is topped with a red galero, indicating he is a cardinal; there is a processional cross with two horizontal bars, indicating he is a metropolitan archbishop; there is an impaled shield, indicating he is the ordinary bishop of his archdiocese.

Personal aspects of a shield also incorporate elements of the bearer’s life, often depicting symbols representative of their particular devotions or patron saints, life events or genealogy. Additionally, below the shield is a motto chosen by the bearer, typically from Scripture.

Michael R. Heinlein is editor of Simply Catholic. Follow him on Twitter @HeinleinMichael.

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9 min read

Church History

Myths and Facts About the Council of Trent

D.D. Emmons

October 2, 2024 7:00 am October 2, 2024

9 min read

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9 min read

“The latest ecumenical councils — Trent, Vatican I, Vatican II — applied themselves to clarifying the mystery of the faith and undertook the necessary reforms for the good of the…

“The latest ecumenical councils — Trent, Vatican I, Vatican II — applied themselves to clarifying the mystery of the faith and undertook the necessary reforms for the good of the Church, solicitous for the continuity with the apostolic tradition.” — Pope Blessed John Paul II, Discourse, Oct. 22, 1998

In the middle of the 16th century, the Catholic Church was in need of reform and renewal, and while the Church acknowledged these problems and had begun reforms, the corrective actions were not quick enough or deemed serious enough to stem large numbers of Catholics from leaving the Church. Martin Luther’s revolt and the subsequent Protestant revolution in the mid-1500s accelerated the reforms that were eventually realized through the Council of Trent. This council, the 19th ecumenical council in Church history, not only dealt with corruption but, more importantly, effectively refuted the heretical teachings and anti-Catholic attacks launched by Protestants.

Few ecumenical councils have left more of a long-term impact on defining and reforming the Catholic Church than did the council held in several different sessions at Trent, Italy, between 1545 and 1563. From the opening to closing ceremonies, the Council of Trent lasted 18 years, but the bishops were in session for just a little more than three years. Of course, the council was not intended to be spread over 18 years, but the work of the bishops was interrupted by plague, wars, the deaths of four popes and a lack of interest from Pope Paul IV (1555-1559), who thought he could achieve reforms without the council.

The results of that historic gathering are still debated by Catholics and non-Catholics alike, but the debates are matched by a host of myths as to what the council fathers at Trent did or did not do.

One long-running myth claims that the popes of the 16th century, fearing a loss of prestige and power, resisted calling a general council to deal with Church abuses and corruption. While 15th- and 16th-century popes were indeed cautious, Pope Paul III (1534-1549) tried three times to convoke a Churchwide council. His efforts were repeatedly stymied by political squabbles and unenthusiastic support from European monarchs and princes.

Pope Paul III first summoned a council in 1537 to be held at Mantua, Italy. Emperor Charles V, ruler of the Holy Roman Empire, allegedly did not like the location. In the end, the city of Trent was chosen, and the council finally opened in December 1545. In sum, there long had been discourse about the need for a Church council, but it was the monarchs, not the popes, who delayed the event. This, of course, is just one of the myths associated with the Council of Trent

Myth: Trent ended the practice of indulgences.

Fact: The practice of indulgences was not ended, continues today and is defined in the current Catechism of the Catholic Church (see Nos. 1471-1484). The XXV session of Trent affirmed Church authority to issue indulgences and condemned “those who assert that they [indulgences] are useless or who deny that the Church has the power to grant them.” The council did eliminate the misuse and the so-called selling of indulgences which Martin Luther (and others) found repugnant.

Myth: Trent added seven books to the Old Testament.

Fact: Beginning in the fourth century there was Churchwide consensus that the Old Testament contained 46 books. That number of books is identified in the ancient Alexandrian (Christian) list of Scriptures as opposed to the Palestinian (Jewish) list that has fewer books. The decision to favor the Alexandrian list was subscribed to at the Council of Hippo in 393 and reaffirmed at the Council of Carthage in 397 (these two councils were smaller in nature and are not listed among the Church’s 21 ecumenical councils). When Luther’s followers translated the Bible into German, they left out the books of Tobit, Judith, First and Second Maccabees, Wisdom, Sirach and Baruch, as well as parts of Daniel and Esther. Protestants also made changes to the New Testament text which, like the Old Testament omissions, conflicted with their beliefs.

Myth: The Council of Trent directed Catholics not to read the Bible.

Fact: This is not true. The bishops confirmed that the Latin Vulgate Bible, in use by Christians for over a thousand years, was the correct version for Catholics to use. It is true that the Church fathers at Trent were concerned about the numerous new translations of Scripture that were filled with error and misinformation and lacked proper and authentic notes. Consequently, they did mandate that only with permission of the pope could versions other than the Vulgate be read.

Myth: Trent resulted in sweeping changes to Catholic teaching.

Fact: There were no changes made to Catholic teaching at the Council of Trent. The No. 1 priority was to defend clearly Catholic beliefs under attack by Protestants, which included: the belief that Christ instituted seven sacraments, not two as asserted by Luther; that justification was achieved by faith and good works, not by faith alone; that the deposit of faith included both the sacred Scriptures and sacred Tradition, not the Scriptures alone; that Communion of one kind for laypeople is sufficient to receive the Real Presence; that the traditional teachings on transubstantiation and original sin are correct; that purgatory does exist; that Masses for the dead are appropriate. These were affirmations, not changes, to Catholic beliefs. In a like manner, the conciliar decrees that defended the Mass were based on unchanging truths and revelation, not on innovation.

Myth: Trent “damned to hell” those who do not agree with the decrees they issued.

Fact: The canons, or decrees, issued by Trent all include the term “anathema.” For example, the Council of Trent, session XXII, canon V, reads: “If anyone saith, that it is an imposture to celebrate Masses in honor of the saints and for obtaining their intercession with God, as the Church intends, let him be anathema.” The word anathema is a Greek word meaning to separate, suspend or set aside, not “damn to hell.” The Church does cut off or excommunicate Catholics who consciously and publicly deny the canons of Trent because the canons affirm the teachings of Christ. These Catholics are welcomed back when willing to be reconciled with the Church’s teachings.

Myth: The Council of Trent acknowledged that women have souls.

Fact: This was and is the most far-fetched of any myth associated with the council. That women have souls was never questioned by the Church, nor was it addressed by the bishops at Trent. This wild accusation seems to have its roots in St. Gregory of Tours’ “History of the Franks” (Book VIII, Ch. 20). This history records that at the Synod of Mâcon in 528 one of the bishops questioned whether the Latin word homo, or man, as used in the Old Testament, includes both male and female. The issue was clarified that indeed women are included in the term. There was never an official canon or decree released, and whatever was discussed had nothing to do with whether or not women have a soul. In the 17th century, anti-Catholics attempted to distort the discussion at Mâcon and publicly claimed that the Mâcon bishops had formally addressed — even voted — as to whether or not women have a soul. Through the years this myth has been exacerbated and skewed so as to connect it with the council at Trent. Even today some Internet sites claim that the Church once debated whether or not women have souls.

Myth: Trent resulted in a rigid Church, one that lacks both diversity and stymies fresh ideas.Fact: The bishops at Trent, like all Catholic bishops, saw themselves as guardians of the deposit of faith, the faith of Jesus Christ. What was true when Jesus walked the earth was true in the 16th century and is true today, and the Church makes no apologies for that position. Since the opening session of Trent there have been 44 popes, each with his own perspective, each with his own administration, each with his own ideas — but none have broken with the teachings of Jesus.

The Council of Trent and the Reform of the Church

While Church fathers at Trent clarified but did not change Catholic teachings, they did make many lasting reforms in the organization and administration of the Church. These reforms included:

– Ending the practices of simony, nepotism and pluralism.

– Limiting bishops to control of only one diocese or holding more than one ecclesiastical office at a time, which had not previously been the case. Bishops were expected to reside and govern their diocese and regularly visit each parish; lengthy absences required the pope’s approval. Every bishop was obligated to maintain high moral standards, live frugally and avoid excess.

– Requiring strict discipline within religious orders and placing monasteries under the jurisdiction of the bishop, rather than the pope.

– Giving special attention to the education of the clergy, including the goal of establishing a seminary in every diocese. Celibacy was upheld, bishops were responsible to select and mentor men for the priesthood, and those men could not be ordained before age 25.

– Promoting the development of the Roman Missal to standardize the Mass and a catechism containing a concise summary of Catholic beliefs.

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12 min read

Relics

Shroud of Turin: Evidence of Jesus’ Resurrection?

Father Robert Spitzer

September 25, 2024 7:00 am September 25, 2024

12 min read

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12 min read

The Shroud of Turin is a burial shroud (a linen cloth woven in a 3-over-1 [3:1] herringbone pattern) measuring 14 feet 3 inches in length by 3 feet 7 inches…

The Shroud of Turin is a burial shroud (a linen cloth woven in a 3-over-1 [3:1] herringbone pattern) measuring 14 feet 3 inches in length by 3 feet 7 inches in width. It apparently covered a man who suffered the wounds of crucifixion in a way very similar to that recorded for Jesus of Nazareth.

The cloth has a certifiable history from 1349, when it surfaced in Lirey, France, in the hands of a French nobleman — Geoffrey de Charny. It also has a somewhat sketchy traceable history from Jerusalem to Lirey — through Edessa, Turkey and Constantinople. This history is confirmed by the pollen grains found by Max Frei, the coincidences between the Shroud and the Sudarium (facecloth) of Oviedo, and the coincidences between the Shroud’s seven unique facial features and those attributed to the Mandylion — the Holy Image of Edessa.

The Shroud has undergone considerably more scientific testing than any other relic in human history. The 1978 Shroud of Turin Research Project (STURP) investigation and subsequent investigations were remarkably thorough, and with the exception of the questionable 1988 carbon dating, all the evidence points to it being the burial cloth of Jesus, including the following:

I. Four contemporary dating tests: The vanillin dating test of Dr. Raymond Rogers, the two spectroscopic analyses (of professor Giulio Fanti, et al.), and the compressibility and breaking strength tests (of Fanti, et al.) date the Shroud to a time commensurate with the life and crucifixion of Jesus.

II. Three kinds of extrinsic dating evidence: (A) Testing of pollen samples by Dr. Max Frei who collected dust samples from the Shroud during the 1978 STURP investigation and later classified 58 pollen grains by comparing them to pollen grains in the largest botanical museums around the world. His conclusion was that the majority (45) were from the region of Israel (specifically from sedimentary layers from 2,000 years ago near the area of the Sea of Galilee), with six grains from the eastern Middle East (two grains from Edessa, Turkey, and one growing exclusively in Istanbul/Constantinople). The remaining grains came from France and Italy. Importantly, 13 of the pollen grains are unique to Israel and are found at the bottom of both the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea. (B) Roman coins on the eyes of the image on the Shroud, which give evidence that it’s highly probable that the image of the man on the Shroud of Turin has two Jewish lepta, minted in A.D. 29 by Pontius Pilate in Judea at the time of Jesus, on his eyelids. (C) One-hundred twenty coincidences of blood and fluid stains between the Shroud and the Sudarium of Oviedo give evidence of a date and location of the Shroud’s origin similar to that of Jesus.

III. The blood stains on the Shroud: The blood stains tell a story very similar to the highly unusual crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth — they were imprinted on the Shroud before the image was made (the opposite of what would need to be done by a forger). The Shroud has deposits of real human blood, according to the experts who studied the blood flecks gathered on the STURP tapes in 1978. They determined that the blood on the Shroud is real. Some researchers have found that male DNA and an AB blood type are also present on the cloth. Though genetic testing confirms these findings, there is no guarantee that they belong to the man on the Shroud.

IV. Formation of the image on the Shroud: The image was not formed by dyes, chemicals, vapors or scorching. The only known explanation for the formation of the image is an intense burst of vacuum ultraviolet radiation (equivalent to the output of 14,000 excimer lasers) emitted from every three-dimensional point of the body in the Shroud.

The combination of the above evidence is exceedingly difficult to explain in any way other than the burial cloth is that of Jesus of Nazareth. Moreover, the formation of the image by an intense outburst of vacuum ultraviolet radiation is suggestive of a resurrection event similar to that described in the Gospels. The above scientific evidence requires that a new carbon-dating test be done which observes the standard protocols for sampling. When these protocols are observed, it would be surprising if the result was not similar to the results of the four new dating methods mentioned above — approximately A.D. 50. If this result is obtained, it would indicate that the Shroud of Turin is very likely the burial shroud of Jesus Christ with evidence suggestive of His resurrection in light.

Evidence?

While we currently do not have a definitive explanation for how this unique and mysterious image was created from the body of a deceased man, the most plausible current hypothesis comes from a combination of two teams of researchers.

Dr. John Jackson’s team studied the Shroud and proposed the vacuum ultraviolet radiation hypothesis in 2008.

According to Jackson, an intense burst of vacuum ultraviolet radiation produced a discoloration on the uppermost surface of the Shroud’s fibrils (without scorching it), which gave rise to a perfect three-dimensional negative image of both the frontal and dorsal parts of the body wrapped in it.

Currently, we know of no natural explanation for the seemingly unique occurrence of such a burst of vacuum ultraviolet radiation from either a decomposing body or the geological/atmospheric conditions within a tomb. Though this is suggestive of a possible supernatural origin of the radiation — perhaps as a part of Jesus’ resurrection — we cannot prove this scientifically, because we cannot construct a scientific test for a supernatural cause — all we can do is eliminate every known natural cause of this seemingly unique radiation. The uniqueness and current inexplicability of this phenomenon gives us reason to believe that God has given us evidence of Jesus’ resurrection. This belief can be strengthened by further understanding of the light phenomenon that seems to be the source of the image as well as the continued elimination of natural causes for it. The most convincing seems to be the hypothesis of Jackson.

Research

The research of the 1978 STURP investigation, as well as subsequent research of Jackson, Fanti, Paolo Di Lazzaro and their teams, shows the likelihood that sometime after the blood deposits had dried on the Shroud the decomposing body in the Shroud emitted a short intense burst of vacuum ultraviolet radiation that led to a dehydration and discoloration of the frontal and dorsal parts of the Shroud, giving rise to a perfect photographic negative image. Jackson’s research also suggests that the body inside the Shroud became mechanically transparent and emitted light evenly from every three-dimensional point within it. This allowed the frontal part of the Shroud to collapse — creating an image (of both the inside and outside of the hands) as well as a double image on the frontal part of the Shroud.

Currently, the known laws of physics cannot explain how a decomposing body can emit an intense burst of vacuum ultraviolet radiation. Furthermore, they cannot explain how such a body could become mechanically transparent and emit light from every three-dimensional point within it.

So, where does that leave us? If Jackson’s explanation continues to be the only one to explain away the enigmas, and if future articulations of the laws of physics cannot explain how a decomposing body could become mechanically transparent and evenly emit vacuum ultraviolet radiation from every three-dimensional point within it, then we are left at the brink of a trans-physical or metaphysical explanation. Under these conditions, it would be both reasonable and responsible to believe that a trans-physical cause interacted with the decomposing body to transform it into an intense burst of light.

Evidently, we cannot scientifically prove a trans-physical cause, because science is restricted to the domain of physical causation. However, if the above conditions hold, we can reasonably infer the possibility and perhaps the likelihood of such a trans-physical cause. This is sufficient for reasonable and responsible belief.

Does this trans-physical explanation of the Shroud’s image point to the resurrection of Jesus? Jesus’ resurrection was not a resuscitation of a material corpse but rather a transforming event which gave rise to what St. Paul called a “spiritual body” — a body transformed in glory, spirit and power. Could this transformation of a material body into a burst of intense light signify a beginning point of the transformation of Jesus’ body from a physical one to a spiritual-glorified one? Though there can be no scientific proof of this, it is a reasonable inference from the parallels between the explanation of the Shroud’s enigmatic image and the testimony of St. Paul and the Gospel writers. In this sense, we might say that the image on the Shroud presents a clue — even a relic — of Jesus’ resurrection.

Conclusion

Why would we think the body in the Shroud was that of Jesus? As explained above, it is exceedingly improbable that the Shroud is a medieval forgery. First, there are no paints, dyes or other pigments on the Shroud (except for the small flecks coming from the sanctification of icons and paintings which touched it).

Second, the anatomical precision of the blood stains — which are real human blood that congealed on the Shroud before the formation of the image — are in precise anatomical correlation to the image itself. How could a medieval forger have accomplished this?

Third, it is exceedingly difficult to explain how pollen grains indigenous to Palestine appeared in abundance on a shroud of probable Semitic origin (if it originated in medieval Europe) and how coins minted in A.D. 29 in Palestine appeared on the eyes of the man on the Shroud. How could a medieval forger have duplicated these first-century Palestinian characteristics of the Shroud?

Fourth, the five enigmas of the image on the Shroud almost certainly preclude a forgery. How could a medieval forger have used vacuum ultraviolet radiation to discolor the cloth on the uppermost surface of the fibrils? How could he have created a perfect photographic negative image? How could he have created a double image on the frontal part of the Shroud? And how could he have known how to duplicate the interior and exterior of the hands in perfect proportion to each other? Thus it does not seem reasonable or responsible to believe that the Shroud is a medieval forgery.

Three Last Points

Beyond this, there are three probative kinds of evidence pointing specifically to Jesus’place and time of origin and to His unique crucifixion and resurrection:

The material of the Shroud, the pollen grains on it and the coins on the man’s eyes all have their origin in first-century Palestine — the place where Jesus was purported to have died.

The blood stains come from a crucifixion event identical to the one described in the four Gospels — which was very unusual, if not unique, in many respects — such as being crowned with thorns, being flogged and being pierced with a Roman pilum (spear).

The five enigmas of the Shroud’s image point to a trans-physically caused burst of vacuum ultraviolet radiation from a mechanically transparent body. This is suggestive of the transformation of Jesus’ body from a physical one to a spiritual-glorified one (as reported by St. Paul and the four Gospels).

The spiritual-glorified transformation of Jesus’ body was unique to the Christian view of resurrection. It was not known in Judaism (which held to a resuscitation of the flesh) or pagan cults (which held to ethereal or ghostlike views of immortality). Thus the enigmas on the Shroud’s image point to the uniquely Christian view of resurrection implied by Jesus’ risen appearance.

The odds of this first-century Palestinian burial shroud — with the unique features of Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection — being that of anyone else is exceedingly remote. Inasmuch as the image is not a forgery, and that it originated from a real person living at the time of Jesus, crucified in the unique way of Jesus, and producing a burst of intense vacuum ultraviolet radiation from his decomposing body, who else would it be? Given all this, we might reasonably infer that the Shroud is the burial cloth of Jesus, which contains not only a relic of His crucifixion but also His resurrection in glory. If so, it shows both the truth of the most significant event in human history as well as the accuracy of the Gospel accounts of it.

Father Robert J. Spitzer, Ph.D., is a Jesuit priest currently serving as president of the Magis Center in Garden Grove, California. A prolific author, he also appears weekly on EWTN’s “Father Spitzer’s Universe.”

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Church History

Getting To Know The Fathers of the Church

Marcellino D'Ambrosio

August 1, 2024 7:54 am August 1, 2024

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18 min read

Almost as soon as a person begins any serious exploration of the Christian heritage, he or she invariably runs across references to “the Fathers of the Church,” or the “early…

Almost as soon as a person begins any serious exploration of the Christian heritage, he or she invariably runs across references to “the Fathers of the Church,” or the “early Church Fathers.”

One gets the clear impression that these people are important. Protestant, Orthodox and Catholic writers all tip their hats to them. Official documents of the magisterium extol their authority (see, for example, Dei Verbum, No. 23).

But often the reader is left a bit bewildered. Who precisely are the Fathers of the Church and why do they matter? And if they are so important, what’s the best way to get started learning about them?

First of all, let’s make it clear who the early Church Fathers are not. The apostles and other heroes of the New Testament era stand in a class all their own. They are not regarded as Church Fathers. Neither are great theologians and Doctors of the Church from medieval or modern times, such as St. Thomas Aquinas.

So, if these venerable writers are not Church Fathers, who are, and why do they bear this title? “Church Father” is not a formally conferred title, as is “Doctor of the Church.” There is no complete, official list of the Fathers. Instead, the designation results from popular acclaim and long-standing tradition that came about in this way: In ancient times, teachers were commonly regarded as intellectual fathers. Some early Christian teachers put their teaching into writings that continued to guide the community of the faithful long after their passing. In disputes over doctrine and the proper interpretation of Scriptures, these early writers were cited as “the fathers” or “the Fathers of the Church.” This popular title stuck and the designation over time was expanded to refer to all the great orthodox Catholic authors writing about faith and morals from about A.D. 100 to about 800.

St. Ignatius of Antioch Shutterstock

This time period is not as arbitrary as it may seem. It is roughly coterminous with the first seven ecumenical councils of the Church, which defined and defended the two most fundamental dogmas enshrined in the Creed — that we believe in one God in three persons, and that Jesus Christ, the savior of the world, is true God and true man. This is the time period in which the canon of Scripture was clarified and the great liturgical traditions of the Church — including Roman, Byzantine and Maronite — took their distinctive form.

The Catholic teachers and writers of this period played a role that can never be played again, transmitting and witnessing to the ancient apostolic tradition and giving a decisive, classic shape to that heritage.

Most of these writers were saints. Some of them, such as Tertullian, fell noticeably short. Saint or not, none of them are personally infallible. If they should agree on anything, it would be rather remarkable, since this disparate group spans seven centuries and three continents. But their teaching does agree on a great many points, and this is a testimony that such teaching did not originate with them, but is rather being passed down to us through them. It is in their consensus (consensus partum) that the Church, from the earliest times, has regarded them as infallible commentators on Scripture and the unwritten apostolic tradition.

Their importance to apologetics and dogmatic theology goes without saying. When people claim that devotion to Mary is a medieval invention, you can conclusively prove otherwise simply by going to the Fathers of the Church. The same can be done when Jehovah’s Witnesses allege that Constantine invented the divinity of Christ.

But just as we read Scripture for more than apologetics purposes, so with the Fathers. We would agree with the late Cardinal Jean Daniélou, S.J.: the Fathers “are not only the truthful witnesses of a bygone era; they are also the most contemporary nourishment of men and women today.” One of the greatest ways to grow in the spiritual life and be imbued with the Catholic spirit is to read the writings of the early Church Fathers. In approaching their work, we should not simply be looking for information, but formation — to receive from them an authentically Catholic vision and a truly passionate zeal for holiness.

Where to Begin?

But then comes the next problem. A lot can be written by hundreds of men over 700 years. St. Augustine alone wrote more than 4 million words. One medieval monk quipped, “He who says he has read all of Augustine . . . lies!”

So, how can we get started in reading the Fathers? Where is the best place to begin?

Fortunately, a reading plan has already been laid out for us by the Church. In the revision of the Divine Office mandated by the Second Vatican Council, the late-night hour of “vigils” was transformed into the Office of Readings which can be done at any hour of the day. For each day, it includes one of the longer psalms, broken up into three parts; a page-long reading from the Bible; and a non-biblical reading about a page long, most usually from one of the early Church Fathers. This patristic excerpt is either a commentary on the biblical reading, the liturgical season or the saint of the day. Thus the Office of Readings is a ready-made collection of, as it were, the Fathers’ greatest hits, an introduction to the most accessible, inspirational and instructive nuggets from the patristic gold mine.

Intimidated by the complexity of the Divine Office? Not to worry. The Office of Readings is rather simple to follow and is more easily accessible than you might think, both in print and electronically (see sidebar). It is the most accessible entry into the world of the Fathers.

What’s Next?

So you’ve read and loved the excerpts and are now ready for entire works. Now what do you do?

Begin at the beginning. The “Apostolic Fathers” are the earliest of the Fathers and are known as apostolic because their life span overlapped to some degree the life span of at least some of the apostles. In some cases, there is evidence that some of these Apostolic Fathers, notably St. Polycarp, had personal contact with an apostle.

St. Augustine (Renata Sedmakova/Shutterstock.com)

Beyond the simple fact that they came first and laid the foundation for later Fathers, there are two other good reasons to start with them. One is that they have undisputable apologetic value as witnesses to unwritten apostolic tradition.

Second, they are, for the most part, simple, pastoral men like the apostles and are therefore easy to understand. You don’t need to take a course in Platonic philosophy to make sense of their writings. In fact, many of the documents of this period follow the same basic format as what we’re already familiar with in the New Testament — pastoral letters and “acts” of the martyrs.

Of course, it would be helpful to read a brief bit of background before delving right into the documents. There are several convenient sources of such information. But beware of making the mistake of spending so much time preparing that you never actually read the texts. The great thing about the Apostolic Fathers is precisely that there really aren’t too many necessary prerequisites to reading them.

With all due respect to my dear Jesuit friends, the original St. Ignatius (d.c. A.D. 110) was not the one from Loyola, but from Antioch. He is without a doubt the most passionate and inspiring among the Apostolic Fathers, the easiest author to read and to share with others. He was the second bishop of Antioch after the apostles, witness to the tradition of Sts. Peter, Barnabas and Paul. It was probably only about 15-20 years after the final edition of the Gospel of John that Ignatius was arrested and sentenced to die for his faith in Rome. He was marched overland from Syria through what is now western Turkey all the way to Troas (Troy) where he was put on a ship to Italy. As he passed through the Asian countryside, he wrote short letters to the various congregations of the region. They provide a fascinating window into the soul of a martyr, a fiery testimony of the love that drove the martyrs to lay down their lives as witnesses to Christ.

The goal of this article was simply to answer the question of who the Fathers of the Church were, why they are important, and how to begin exploring their writings.

Though I, like many, can’t help but roll my eyes over the uproar created by “The Da Vinci Code” many years back, we are indebted to Dan Brown in a way.

He reminded us that the early Church is terribly important. On its authority and fidelity hang the very reliability of the Scriptures and the Creeds shared by all Christians — Protestant, Catholic and Orthodox.

Of course, the events of “The Da Vinci Code” concerning what went on in the early Church is total fabrication. So where do we go for the truth? Simple. We need direct contact with the primary sources — that is, documents written by those who were actually involved in the events in question. Fortunately, abundant documents survive from the first eight centuries of the Church. We refer to those who wrote them as the early Church Fathers. By the way, contrary to the allegations of the characters in “The Da Vinci Code,” the documents we have from this era are not falsified or interpolated. Scholarly tools have existed for centuries that are particularly effective at detecting forgeries and dating documents to within a few decades of when they were written.

The good news is that there are thousands of documents and hundreds of writers. The bad news is that there are thousands of documents and hundreds of writers. Few of us have time to read them all. In fact, it is difficult to know where to begin.

The Church has put together a collection of short selections from the Fathers in the Office of Readings. These are the best introduction. The next step would be to read the Apostolic Fathers, the earliest of the post New Testament writings which have particular apologetic value given their proximity to the apostles.

Scripture, Liturgy, Biography

The Apostolic Fathers (ca. A.D. 95-150) were a lot like the apostles — simple men, without much formal schooling. That makes their writings easy to understand. But once we hit the middle to late second century, we run into very different kinds of writers. Justin had been a philosopher before his conversion, while Tertullian was a lawyer. Both were deeply cultured men, and concepts from the philosophy of their day, Stoicism and Platonism, surface frequently in their work. The same is true with Fathers from the fourth-to-fifth-century Golden Age, such as St. Augustine and St. Gregory of Nyssa.

So, is there any hope that the ordinary Joe or Jane can read these authors and make heads or tails of them?

Absolutely. And here’s why. Many of the most high-powered thinkers among the Fathers were also pastors. And many of their writings were originally addressed to the faithful as homilies, catechetical orations and lives of the saints. Though such writings are chock-full of insight and inspiration, they are delivered in words intended to be understood by everybody.

So my advice to those wishing to sink their teeth into the rich fare provided by these later Fathers is to focus on their exegetical and catechetical writings rather than the more philosophical treatises written for a more learned audience. What follows are a few concrete suggestions.

St. Basil and the Holy Spirit

Following the Council of Nicaea, there was a great deal of doctrinal confusion. One group of churchmen in the east said that while they accepted Nicaea’s definition of the divinity of Christ, they would not go beyond it to affirm the same of the Holy Spirit. After all, they pointed out, Jesus is called “God” (the New Testament Greek word is Theos) several times in the New Testament.

But the Scriptures never explicitly use the term “God” referring to the Holy Spirit. These “sola scriptura” bishops, called “pneumatomachoi” (fighters against the Spirit), therefore resisted the doctrine of the Trinity, one God in three distinct but equal persons.

St. Basil the Great responded to these heretics in the form of a short treatise that relies not on difficult philosophical concepts but on a common-sense examination of Scripture and the liturgy.

He demonstrated that Scripture constantly teaches the distinct personhood and full divinity of the Holy Spirit, but that it does so implicitly, as it does not explicitly call the Spirit “God.”

He then made one of the clearest cases against sola scriptura in early Christian literature, showing that Christians had never, from the time of the apostles to his day (ca. 370), relied exclusively on the text of the Bible to tell them how to pray and what to believe. He pointed to many liturgical traditions, such as the sacrament of chrismation (known in the West as confirmation), which had always been celebrated in the Church but were not clearly and explicitly spelled out in Scripture.

He also pointed to the fact that the Church had always, as far as anyone could remember, prayed the Trinitarian doxology — “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit” — which clearly assumes the divinity of the Holy Spirit.

Lex orandi, lex credendi (the law of prayer demonstrates the law of belief) is a principle first clearly argued by St. Basil.

Therefore, to deepen your understanding of the work and person of the Holy Spirit, provide insight into the relation between Scripture and Tradition, and acquaint you with one of the greatest Fathers of the Eastern Church, pick up “On the Holy Spirit,” a short book by St. Basil, available in paperback from St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press.

Two Great Lives

In defending the divinity of Christ during the Arian crisis of the fourth century, St. Athanasius of Alexandria had received constant support from the most famous hermit of the Egyptian desert, St. Antony. Personally inspired by Antony’s story and example, Athanasius decided the world needed to know about him.

Without the internet, or even the printing press, Athanasius’ “Life of Antony” quickly became the rage throughout the Christian empire, which was copied, translated and passed from hand to hand.

It inspired many, including Augustine, to a deeper conversion to the Gospel and even to embrace religious life.

Antony, a hermit, was the “godfather” of religious life in the East. A few centuries later, St. Benedict established a communal form of life that made him the godfather of monastic life in the West.

Only a couple of generations after St. Benedict’s death, one of his monks was elected as successor of St. Peter.

Known as Gregory the Great, this monk-become-pope found time to write his “Dialogues,” the second book of which is a life of St. Benedict.

I vote that you put Athanasius’ “Life of Antony” and book two of St. Gregory’s “Dialogues” at the top of your reading list as a great way to get acquainted with two of the greatest monastic saints and two of the greatest Fathers of the Church.

Dr. Marcellino D’Ambrosio writes from Texas.

The Great Augustine

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This presentation of the Fathers would not be complete without a discussion of how to break into the writings of the most famous Father of the Western Church, the great St. Augustine. Many praise Augustine, but virtually no one has read all of his works (he wrote more than 4 million words!). It’s hard to know where to enter the forest of his vast literary output. His “Confessions” is a classic of Western civilization as is his massive tome “The City of God.” But keep in mind that “Confessions” is not an autobiography in the typical modern sense of the word. It is a spiritual reflection on his past life, written soon after his accession to the episcopate, but it takes the form of a long, extended prayer to God. And its last few chapters ascend into the philosophical stratosphere, losing all but the heartiest astronauts. Is it to be attempted? Yes, but it is not really a beginner’s slope. And “The City of God” is definitely not the first Augustinian peak to be attempted either.

So, where to begin? In my opinion, it is his homilies and commentaries that are perfect for everyone — meaty enough for the most experienced, but simple enough for the novice. After all, his sermons are for ordinary people and are intended to help them understand and apply the Scriptures to their lives. Who cannot use a bit more of that? His commentary on the Psalms is fabulous. And, since his favorite topic is love, I especially recommend his homilies on the First Letter of John. Given that Augustine is the most influential teacher of the faith in the Western Church before St. Thomas Aquinas, he cannot be neglected by anyone wishing to tap into the Church’s ancient heritage.

Fathers of the Church

Greek Fathers

St. Anastasius Sinaita (d. 700)
St. Andrew of Crete (d. 740)
Aphraates (fourth century)
St. Archelaus (d. 282)
St. Athanasius (d. 373)
Athenagoras (second century)
St. Basil the Great (d. 379)
St. Caesarius of Nazianzus (d. 369)
St. Clement of Alexandria (d. 215)
St. Clement I of Rome, Pope (r. 88-97)
St. Cyril of Alexandria (d. 444)
St. Cyril of Jerusalem (d. 386)
Didymus the Blind (d. c. 398)
Diodore of Tarsus (d. 392)
St. Dionysius the Great (d. c. 264)
St. Epiphanius (d. 403)
Eusebius of Caesarea (d. 340)
St. Eustathius of Antioch (fourth century)
St. Firmillian (d. 268)
Gennadius I of Constantinople (fifth century)
St. Germanus (d. 732)
St. Gregory of Nazianzus (d. 390)
St. Gregory of Nyssa (d. 395)
St. Gregory Thaumaturgus (d. 268)
Hermas (second century)
St. Hippolytus (d. 236)
St. Ignatius of Antioch (d. 107)
St. Isidore of Pelusium (d. c. 450)
St. John Chrysostom (d. 407)
St. John Climacus (d. 649)
St. John Damascene (d. 749), last Father of the East
St. Julius I, Pope (r. 337-352)
St. Justin Martyr (d. 165)
St. Leontius of Byzantium (sixth century)
St. Macarius (d. c. 390)
St. Maximus the Confessor (d. 662)
St. Melito (d. c. 180)
St. Methodius of Olympus (d. 311)
St. Nilus the Elder (d. c. 430)
Origen (d. 254)
St. Polycarp (d. c. 155)
St. Proclus (d. c. 446)
Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite (sixth century)
St. Serapion (d. c. 370)
St. Sophronius (d. 638)
Tatian (second century)
Theodore of Mopsuestia (d. 428)
Theodoret of Cyrrhus (d. c. 458)
St. Theophilus of Antioch (second century)

Latin Fathers
St. Ambrose of Milan (d. 397)
Arnobius (d. 330)
St. Augustine of Hippo (d. 430)
St. Benedict of Nursia (d. c. 550)
St. Caesarius of Arles (d. 542)
St. John Cassian (d. 435)
St. Celestine I, Pope (r. 422-432)
St. Cornelius, Pope (r. 251-253)
St. Cyprian of Carthage (d. 258)
St. Damasus I, Pope (r. 366-384)
St. Dionysius, Pope (r. 259-268)
St. Ennodius (d. 521)
St. Eucherius of Lyons (d. c. 450)
St. Fulgentius (d. 533)
St. Gregory of Elvira (d. c. 392)
St. Gregory the Great, Pope (r. 590-604)
St. Hilary of Poitiers (d. 367)
St. Innocent I, Pope (r. 401-417)
St. Irenaeus of Lyons (d. c. 202)
St. Isidore of Seville (d. 636), last Father of the West
St. Jerome (d. 420)
Lactantius (d. 323)
St. Leo the Great, Pope (r. 440-461)
Marius Mercator (d. 451)
Marius Victorinus (fourth century)
Minucius Felix (second century)
Novatian (d. c. 257)
St. Optatus (fourth century)
St. Pacian (d. c. 390)
St. Pamphilus (d. 309)
St. Paulinus of Nola (d. 431)
St. Peter Chrysologus (d. 450)
St. Phoebadius of Agen (fourth century)
Rufinus of Aquileia (d. 410)
Salvian (fifth century)
St. Siricius, Pope (r. 384-399)
Tertullian (d. c. 222)
St. Vincent of Lérins (d. c. 450)

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