In case anyone is going for the sacrament of reconciliation, here is the Pope's prayer intentions for July 2015.

Universal: POLITICS
That political responsibility may be lived at all levels as a high form of charity.

Evangelization: THE POOR IN LATIN AMERICA
That, amid social inequalities, Latin American Christians may bear witness to love for the poor and contribute to a more fraternal society.


I will be posting prayer intentions monthly from now on, God bless!

In addition; if anyone needs prayers, please do post your requests here ... take care!

Ahhh goshhh bro yeeck! You beat me again!

ENCYCLICAL LETTER
OF THE SUPREME PONTIFF
JOHN PAUL II
TO THE BISHOPS
OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH
ON THE RELATIONSHIP
BETWEEN FAITH AND REASON

FIDES ET RATIO

Source: http://w2.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/...s-et-ratio.html

INTRODUCTION - “KNOW YOURSELF”

1. In both East and West, we may trace a journey which has led humanity down the centuries to meet and engage truth more and more deeply. It is a journey which has unfolded—as it must—within the horizon of personal self-consciousness: the more human beings know reality and the world, the more they know themselves in their uniqueness, with the question of the meaning of things and of their very existence becoming ever more pressing. This is why all that is the object of our knowledge becomes a part of our life. The admonition Know yourself was carved on the temple portal at Delphi, as testimony to a basic truth to be adopted as a minimal norm by those who seek to set themselves apart from the rest of creation as “human beings”, that is as those who “know themselves”.

Moreover, a cursory glance at ancient history shows clearly how in different parts of the world, with their different cultures, there arise at the same time the fundamental questions which pervade human life: Who am I? Where have I come from and where am I going? Why is there evil? What is there after this life? These are the questions which we find in the sacred writings of Israel, as also in the Veda and the Avesta; we find them in the writings of Confucius and Lao-Tze, and in the preaching of Tirthankara and Buddha; they appear in the poetry of Homer and in the tragedies of Euripides and Sophocles, as they do in the philosophical writings of Plato and Aristotle. They are questions which have their common source in the quest for meaning which has always compelled the human heart. In fact, the answer given to these questions decides the direction which people seek to give to their lives.

2. The Church is no stranger to this journey of discovery, nor could she ever be. From the moment when, through the Paschal Mystery, she received the gift of the ultimate truth about human life, the Church has made her pilgrim way along the paths of the world to proclaim that Jesus Christ is “the way, and the truth, and the life” (Jn 14:6). It is her duty to serve humanity in different ways, but one way in particular imposes a responsibility of a quite special kind: the diakonia of the truth.1 This mission on the one hand makes the believing community a partner in humanity's shared struggle to arrive at truth; 2 and on the other hand it obliges the believing community to proclaim the certitudes arrived at, albeit with a sense that every truth attained is but a step towards that fullness of truth which will appear with the final Revelation of God: “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully” (1 Cor 13:12).

3. Men and women have at their disposal an array of resources for generating greater knowledge of truth so that their lives may be ever more human. Among these is philosophy, which is directly concerned with asking the question of life's meaning and sketching an answer to it. Philosophy emerges, then, as one of noblest of human tasks. According to its Greek etymology, the term philosophy means “love of wisdom”. Born and nurtured when the human being first asked questions about the reason for things and their purpose, philosophy shows in different modes and forms that the desire for truth is part of human nature itself. It is an innate property of human reason to ask why things are as they are, even though the answers which gradually emerge are set within a horizon which reveals how the different human cultures are complementary.

Philosophy's powerful influence on the formation and development of the cultures of the West should not obscure the influence it has also had upon the ways of understanding existence found in the East. Every people has its own native and seminal wisdom which, as a true cultural treasure, tends to find voice and develop in forms which are genuinely philosophical. One example of this is the basic form of philosophical knowledge which is evident to this day in the postulates which inspire national and international legal systems in regulating the life of society.

4. Nonetheless, it is true that a single term conceals a variety of meanings. Hence the need for a preliminary clarification. Driven by the desire to discover the ultimate truth of existence, human beings seek to acquire those universal elements of knowledge which enable them to understand themselves better and to advance in their own self-realization. These fundamental elements of knowledge spring from the wonder awakened in them by the contemplation of creation: human beings are astonished to discover themselves as part of the world, in a relationship with others like them, all sharing a common destiny. Here begins, then, the journey which will lead them to discover ever new frontiers of knowledge. Without wonder, men and women would lapse into deadening routine and little by little would become incapable of a life which is genuinely personal.

Through philosophy's work, the ability to speculate which is proper to the human intellect produces a rigorous mode of thought; and then in turn, through the logical coherence of the affirmations made and the organic unity of their content, it produces a systematic body of knowledge. In different cultural contexts and at different times, this process has yielded results which have produced genuine systems of thought. Yet often enough in history this has brought with it the temptation to identify one single stream with the whole of philosophy. In such cases, we are clearly dealing with a “philosophical pride” which seeks to present its own partial and imperfect view as the complete reading of all reality. In effect, every philosophical system, while it should always be respected in its wholeness, without any instrumentalization, must still recognize the primacy of philosophical enquiry, from which it stems and which it ought loyally to serve.

Although times change and knowledge increases, it is possible to discern a core of philosophical insight within the history of thought as a whole. Consider, for example, the principles of non-contradiction, finality and causality, as well as the concept of the person as a free and intelligent subject, with the capacity to know God, truth and goodness. Consider as well certain fundamental moral norms which are shared by all. These are among the indications that, beyond different schools of thought, there exists a body of knowledge which may be judged a kind of spiritual heritage of humanity. It is as if we had come upon an implicit philosophy, as a result of which all feel that they possess these principles, albeit in a general and unreflective way. Precisely because it is shared in some measure by all, this knowledge should serve as a kind of reference-point for the different philosophical schools. Once reason successfully intuits and formulates the first universal principles of being and correctly draws from them conclusions which are coherent both logically and ethically, then it may be called right reason or, as the ancients called it, orthós logos, recta ratio.

5. On her part, the Church cannot but set great value upon reason's drive to attain goals which render people's lives ever more worthy. She sees in philosophy the way to come to know fundamental truths about human life. At the same time, the Church considers philosophy an indispensable help for a deeper understanding of faith and for communicating the truth of the Gospel to those who do not yet know it.

Therefore, following upon similar initiatives by my Predecessors, I wish to reflect upon this special activity of human reason. I judge it necessary to do so because, at the present time in particular, the search for ultimate truth seems often to be neglected. Modern philosophy clearly has the great merit of focusing attention upon man. From this starting-point, human reason with its many questions has developed further its yearning to know more and to know it ever more deeply. Complex systems of thought have thus been built, yielding results in the different fields of knowledge and fostering the development of culture and history. Anthropology, logic, the natural sciences, history, linguistics and so forth—the whole universe of knowledge has been involved in one way or another. Yet the positive results achieved must not obscure the fact that reason, in its one-sided concern to investigate human subjectivity, seems to have forgotten that men and women are always called to direct their steps towards a truth which transcends them. Sundered from that truth, individuals are at the mercy of caprice, and their state as person ends up being judged by pragmatic criteria based essentially upon experimental data, in the mistaken belief that technology must dominate all. It has happened therefore that reason, rather than voicing the human orientation towards truth, has wilted under the weight of so much knowledge and little by little has lost the capacity to lift its gaze to the heights, not daring to rise to the truth of being. Abandoning the investigation of being, modern philosophical research has concentrated instead upon human knowing. Rather than make use of the human capacity to know the truth, modern philosophy has preferred to accentuate the ways in which this capacity is limited and conditioned.

This has given rise to different forms of agnosticism and relativism which have led philosophical research to lose its way in the shifting sands of widespread scepticism. Recent times have seen the rise to prominence of various doctrines which tend to devalue even the truths which had been judged certain. A legitimate plurality of positions has yielded to an undifferentiated pluralism, based upon the assumption that all positions are equally valid, which is one of today's most widespread symptoms of the lack of confidence in truth. Even certain conceptions of life coming from the East betray this lack of confidence, denying truth its exclusive character and assuming that truth reveals itself equally in different doctrines, even if they contradict one another. On this understanding, everything is reduced to opinion; and there is a sense of being adrift. While, on the one hand, philosophical thinking has succeeded in coming closer to the reality of human life and its forms of expression, it has also tended to pursue issues—existential, hermeneutical or linguistic—which ignore the radical question of the truth about personal existence, about being and about God. Hence we see among the men and women of our time, and not just in some philosophers, attitudes of widespread distrust of the human being's great capacity for knowledge. With a false modesty, people rest content with partial and provisional truths, no longer seeking to ask radical questions about the meaning and ultimate foundation of human, personal and social existence. In short, the hope that philosophy might be able to provide definitive answers to these questions has dwindled.

6. Sure of her competence as the bearer of the Revelation of Jesus Christ, the Church reaffirms the need to reflect upon truth. This is why I have decided to address you, my venerable Brother Bishops, with whom I share the mission of “proclaiming the truth openly” (2 Cor 4:2), as also theologians and philosophers whose duty it is to explore the different aspects of truth, and all those who are searching; and I do so in order to offer some reflections on the path which leads to true wisdom, so that those who love truth may take the sure path leading to it and so find rest from their labours and joy for their spirit.

I feel impelled to undertake this task above all because of the Second Vatican Council's insistence that the Bishops are “witnesses of divine and catholic truth”.3 To bear witness to the truth is therefore a task entrusted to us Bishops; we cannot renounce this task without failing in the ministry which we have received. In reaffirming the truth of faith, we can both restore to our contemporaries a genuine trust in their capacity to know and challenge philosophy to recover and develop its own full dignity.

There is a further reason why I write these reflections. In my Encyclical Letter Veritatis Splendor, I drew attention to “certain fundamental truths of Catholic doctrine which, in the present circumstances, risk being distorted or denied”.4 In the present Letter, I wish to pursue that reflection by concentrating on the theme of truth itself and on its foundation in relation to faith. For it is undeniable that this time of rapid and complex change can leave especially the younger generation, to whom the future belongs and on whom it depends, with a sense that they have no valid points of reference. The need for a foundation for personal and communal life becomes all the more pressing at a time when we are faced with the patent inadequacy of perspectives in which the ephemeral is affirmed as a value and the possibility of discovering the real meaning of life is cast into doubt. This is why many people stumble through life to the very edge of the abyss without knowing where they are going. At times, this happens because those whose vocation it is to give cultural expression to their thinking no longer look to truth, preferring quick success to the toil of patient enquiry into what makes life worth living. With its enduring appeal to the search for truth, philosophy has the great responsibility of forming thought and culture; and now it must strive resolutely to recover its original vocation. This is why I have felt both the need and the duty to address this theme so that, on the threshold of the third millennium of the Christian era, humanity may come to a clearer sense of the great resources with which it has been endowed and may commit itself with renewed courage to implement the plan of salvation of which its history is part.


This post has been edited by khool: Jul 20 2015, 01:46 PM

TO THE BISHOPS
OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH
ON THE RELATIONSHIP
BETWEEN FAITH AND REASON

FIDES ET RATIO (Continued)

Source: http://w2.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/...s-et-ratio.html


CHAPTER I - THE REVELATION OF GOD'S WISDOM

Jesus, revealer of the Father

7. Underlying all the Church's thinking is the awareness that she is the bearer of a message which has its origin in God himself (cf. 2 Cor 4:1-2). The knowledge which the Church offers to man has its origin not in any speculation of her own, however sublime, but in the word of God which she has received in faith (cf. 1 Th 2:13). At the origin of our life of faith there is an encounter, unique in kind, which discloses a mystery hidden for long ages (cf. 1 Cor 2:7; Rom 16:25-26) but which is now revealed: “In his goodness and wisdom, God chose to reveal himself and to make known to us the hidden purpose of his will (cf. Eph 1:9), by which, through Christ, the Word made flesh, man has access to the Father in the Holy Spirit and comes to share in the divine nature”.5 This initiative is utterly gratuitous, moving from God to men and women in order to bring them to salvation. As the source of love, God desires to make himself known; and the knowledge which the human being has of God perfects all that the human mind can know of the meaning of life.

8. Restating almost to the letter the teaching of the First Vatican Council's Constitution Dei Filius, and taking into account the principles set out by the Council of Trent, the Second Vatican Council's Constitution Dei Verbum pursued the age-old journey of understanding faith, reflecting on Revelation in the light of the teaching of Scripture and of the entire Patristic tradition. At the First Vatican Council, the Fathers had stressed the supernatural character of God's Revelation. On the basis of mistaken and very widespread assertions, the rationalist critique of the time attacked faith and denied the possibility of any knowledge which was not the fruit of reason's natural capacities. This obliged the Council to reaffirm emphatically that there exists a knowledge which is peculiar to faith, surpassing the knowledge proper to human reason, which nevertheless by its nature can discover the Creator. This knowledge expresses a truth based upon the very fact of God who reveals himself, a truth which is most certain, since God neither deceives nor wishes to deceive.6

9. The First Vatican Council teaches, then, that the truth attained by philosophy and the truth of Revelation are neither identical nor mutually exclusive: “There exists a twofold order of knowledge, distinct not only as regards their source, but also as regards their object. With regard to the source, because we know in one by natural reason, in the other by divine faith. With regard to the object, because besides those things which natural reason can attain, there are proposed for our belief mysteries hidden in God which, unless they are divinely revealed, cannot be known”.7 Based upon God's testimony and enjoying the supernatural assistance of grace, faith is of an order other than philosophical knowledge which depends upon sense perception and experience and which advances by the light of the intellect alone. Philosophy and the sciences function within the order of natural reason; while faith, enlightened and guided by the Spirit, recognizes in the message of salvation the “fullness of grace and truth” (cf. Jn 1:14) which God has willed to reveal in history and definitively through his Son, Jesus Christ (cf. 1 Jn 5:9; Jn 5:31-32).

10. Contemplating Jesus as revealer, the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council stressed the salvific character of God's Revelation in history, describing it in these terms: “In this Revelation, the invisible God (cf. Col 1:15; 1 Tim 1:17), out of the abundance of his love speaks to men and women as friends (cf. Ex 33:11; Jn 15:14-15) and lives among them (cf. Bar 3:38), so that he may invite and take them into communion with himself. This plan of Revelation is realized by deeds and words having an inner unity: the deeds wrought by God in the history of salvation manifest and confirm the teaching and realities signified by the words, while the words proclaim the deeds and clarify the mystery contained in them. By this Revelation, then, the deepest truth about God and human salvation is made clear to us in Christ, who is the mediator and at the same time the fullness of all Revelation”.8

11. God's Revelation is therefore immersed in time and history. Jesus Christ took flesh in the “fullness of time” (Gal 4:4); and two thousand years later, I feel bound to restate forcefully that “in Christianity time has a fundamental importance”.9 It is within time that the whole work of creation and salvation comes to light; and it emerges clearly above all that, with the Incarnation of the Son of God, our life is even now a foretaste of the fulfilment of time which is to come (cf. Heb 1:2).

The truth about himself and his life which God has entrusted to humanity is immersed therefore in time and history; and it was declared once and for all in the mystery of Jesus of Nazareth. The Constitution Dei Verbum puts it eloquently: “After speaking in many places and varied ways through the prophets, God 'last of all in these days has spoken to us by his Son' (Heb 1:1-2). For he sent his Son, the eternal Word who enlightens all people, so that he might dwell among them and tell them the innermost realities about God (cf. Jn 1:1-18). Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh, sent as 'a human being to human beings', 'speaks the words of God' (Jn 3:34), and completes the work of salvation which his Father gave him to do (cf. Jn 5:36; 17:4). To see Jesus is to see his Father (Jn 14:9). For this reason, Jesus perfected Revelation by fulfilling it through his whole work of making himself present and manifesting himself: through his words and deeds, his signs and wonders, but especially though his death and glorious Resurrection from the dead and finally his sending of the Spirit of truth”.10

For the People of God, therefore, history becomes a path to be followed to the end, so that by the unceasing action of the Holy Spirit (cf. Jn 16:13) the contents of revealed truth may find their full expression. This is the teaching of the Constitution Dei Verbum when it states that “as the centuries succeed one another, the Church constantly progresses towards the fullness of divine truth, until the words of God reach their complete fulfilment in her”.11

12. History therefore becomes the arena where we see what God does for humanity. God comes to us in the things we know best and can verify most easily, the things of our everyday life, apart from which we cannot understand ourselves.

In the Incarnation of the Son of God we see forged the enduring and definitive synthesis which the human mind of itself could not even have imagined: the Eternal enters time, the Whole lies hidden in the part, God takes on a human face. The truth communicated in Christ's Revelation is therefore no longer confined to a particular place or culture, but is offered to every man and woman who would welcome it as the word which is the absolutely valid source of meaning for human life. Now, in Christ, all have access to the Father, since by his Death and Resurrection Christ has bestowed the divine life which the first Adam had refused (cf. Rom 5:12-15). Through this Revelation, men and women are offered the ultimate truth about their own life and about the goal of history. As the Constitution Gaudium et Spes puts it, “only in the mystery of the incarnate Word does the mystery of man take on light”.12 Seen in any other terms, the mystery of personal existence remains an insoluble riddle. Where might the human being seek the answer to dramatic questions such as pain, the suffering of the innocent and death, if not in the light streaming from the mystery of Christ's Passion, Death and Resurrection?

Reason before the mystery

13. It should nonetheless be kept in mind that Revelation remains charged with mystery. It is true that Jesus, with his entire life, revealed the countenance of the Father, for he came to teach the secret things of God.13 But our vision of the face of God is always fragmentary and impaired by the limits of our understanding. Faith alone makes it possible to penetrate the mystery in a way that allows us to understand it coherently.

The Council teaches that “the obedience of faith must be given to God who reveals himself”.14 This brief but dense statement points to a fundamental truth of Christianity. Faith is said first to be an obedient response to God. This implies that God be acknowledged in his divinity, transcendence and supreme freedom. By the authority of his absolute transcendence, God who makes himself known is also the source of the credibility of what he reveals. By faith, men and women give their assent to this divine testimony. This means that they acknowledge fully and integrally the truth of what is revealed because it is God himself who is the guarantor of that truth. They can make no claim upon this truth which comes to them as gift and which, set within the context of interpersonal communication, urges reason to be open to it and to embrace its profound meaning. This is why the Church has always considered the act of entrusting oneself to God to be a moment of fundamental decision which engages the whole person. In that act, the intellect and the will display their spiritual nature, enabling the subject to act in a way which realizes personal freedom to the full.15 It is not just that freedom is part of the act of faith: it is absolutely required. Indeed, it is faith that allows individuals to give consummate expression to their own freedom. Put differently, freedom is not realized in decisions made against God. For how could it be an exercise of true freedom to refuse to be open to the very reality which enables our self-realization? Men and women can accomplish no more important act in their lives than the act of faith; it is here that freedom reaches the certainty of truth and chooses to live in that truth.

To assist reason in its effort to understand the mystery there are the signs which Revelation itself presents. These serve to lead the search for truth to new depths, enabling the mind in its autonomous exploration to penetrate within the mystery by use of reason's own methods, of which it is rightly jealous. Yet these signs also urge reason to look beyond their status as signs in order to grasp the deeper meaning which they bear. They contain a hidden truth to which the mind is drawn and which it cannot ignore without destroying the very signs which it is given.

In a sense, then, we return to the sacramental character of Revelation and especially to the sign of the Eucharist, in which the indissoluble unity between the signifier and signified makes it possible to grasp the depths of the mystery. In the Eucharist, Christ is truly present and alive, working through his Spirit; yet, as Saint Thomas said so well, “what you neither see nor grasp, faith confirms for you, leaving nature far behind; a sign it is that now appears, hiding in mystery realities sublime”.16 He is echoed by the philosopher Pascal: “Just as Jesus Christ went unrecognized among men, so does his truth appear without external difference among common modes of thought. So too does the Eucharist remain among common bread”.17

In short, the knowledge proper to faith does not destroy the mystery; it only reveals it the more, showing how necessary it is for people's lives: Christ the Lord “in revealing the mystery of the Father and his love fully reveals man to himself and makes clear his supreme calling”,18 which is to share in the divine mystery of the life of the Trinity.19

14. From the teaching of the two Vatican Councils there also emerges a genuinely novel consideration for philosophical learning. Revelation has set within history a point of reference which cannot be ignored if the mystery of human life is to be known. Yet this knowledge refers back constantly to the mystery of God which the human mind cannot exhaust but can only receive and embrace in faith. Between these two poles, reason has its own specific field in which it can enquire and understand, restricted only by its finiteness before the infinite mystery of God.

Revelation therefore introduces into our history a universal and ultimate truth which stirs the human mind to ceaseless effort; indeed, it impels reason continually to extend the range of its knowledge until it senses that it has done all in its power, leaving no stone unturned. To assist our reflection on this point we have one of the most fruitful and important minds in human history, a point of reference for both philosophy and theology: Saint Anselm. In his Proslogion, the Archbishop of Canterbury puts it this way: “Thinking of this problem frequently and intently, at times it seemed I was ready to grasp what I was seeking; at other times it eluded my thought completely, until finally, despairing of being able to find it, I wanted to abandon the search for something which was impossible to find. I wanted to rid myself of that thought because, by filling my mind, it distracted me from other problems from which I could gain some profit; but it would then present itself with ever greater insistence... Woe is me, one of the poor children of Eve, far from God, what did I set out to do and what have I accomplished? What was I aiming for and how far have I got? What did I aspire to and what did I long for?... O Lord, you are not only that than which nothing greater can be conceived (non solum es quo maius cogitari nequit), but you are greater than all that can be conceived (quiddam maius quam cogitari possit)... If you were not such, something greater than you could be thought, but this is impossible”.20

15. The truth of Christian Revelation, found in Jesus of Nazareth, enables all men and women to embrace the “mystery” of their own life. As absolute truth, it summons human beings to be open to the transcendent, whilst respecting both their autonomy as creatures and their freedom. At this point the relationship between freedom and truth is complete, and we understand the full meaning of the Lord's words: “You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free” (Jn 8:32).

Christian Revelation is the true lodestar of men and women as they strive to make their way amid the pressures of an immanentist habit of mind and the constrictions of a technocratic logic. It is the ultimate possibility offered by God for the human being to know in all its fullness the seminal plan of love which began with creation. To those wishing to know the truth, if they can look beyond themselves and their own concerns, there is given the possibility of taking full and harmonious possession of their lives, precisely by following the path of truth. Here the words of the Book of Deuteronomy are pertinent: “This commandment which I command you is not too hard for you, neither is it far off. It is not in heaven that you should say, 'Who will go up for us to heaven, and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?' Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, 'Who will go over the sea for us, and bring it to us, that we may hear and do it?' But the word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart, that you can do it” (30:11-14). This text finds an echo in the famous dictum of the holy philosopher and theologian Augustine: “Do not wander far and wide but return into yourself. Deep within man there dwells the truth” (Noli foras ire, in te ipsum redi. In interiore homine habitat veritas).21

These considerations prompt a first conclusion: the truth made known to us by Revelation is neither the product nor the consummation of an argument devised by human reason. It appears instead as something gratuitous, which itself stirs thought and seeks acceptance as an expression of love. This revealed truth is set within our history as an anticipation of that ultimate and definitive vision of God which is reserved for those who believe in him and seek him with a sincere heart. The ultimate purpose of personal existence, then, is the theme of philosophy and theology alike. For all their difference of method and content, both disciplines point to that “path of life” (Ps 16:11) which, as faith tells us, leads in the end to the full and lasting joy of the contemplation of the Triune God.

TO THE BISHOPS
OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH
ON THE RELATIONSHIP
BETWEEN FAITH AND REASON

FIDES ET RATIO (Continued)

Source: http://w2.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/...s-et-ratio.html


CHAPTER II - CREDO UT INTELLEGAM

“Wisdom knows all and understands all” (Wis 9:11)

16. Sacred Scripture indicates with remarkably clear cues how deeply related are the knowledge conferred by faith and the knowledge conferred by reason; and it is in the Wisdom literature that this relationship is addressed most explicitly. What is striking about these biblical texts, if they are read without prejudice, is that they embody not only the faith of Israel, but also the treasury of cultures and civilizations which have long vanished. As if by special design, the voices of Egypt and Mesopotamia sound again and certain features common to the cultures of the ancient Near East come to life in these pages which are so singularly rich in deep intuition.

It is no accident that, when the sacred author comes to describe the wise man, he portrays him as one who loves and seeks the truth: “Happy the man who meditates on wisdom and reasons intelligently, who reflects in his heart on her ways and ponders her secrets. He pursues her like a hunter and lies in wait on her paths. He peers through her windows and listens at her doors. He camps near her house and fastens his tent-peg to her walls; he pitches his tent near her and so finds an excellent resting-place; he places his children under her protection and lodges under her boughs; by her he is sheltered from the heat and he dwells in the shade of her glory” (Sir 14:20-27).

For the inspired writer, as we see, the desire for knowledge is characteristic of all people. Intelligence enables everyone, believer and non-believer, to reach “the deep waters” of knowledge (cf. Prov 20:5). It is true that ancient Israel did not come to knowledge of the world and its phenomena by way of abstraction, as did the Greek philosopher or the Egyptian sage. Still less did the good Israelite understand knowledge in the way of the modern world which tends more to distinguish different kinds of knowing. Nonetheless, the biblical world has made its own distinctive contribution to the theory of knowledge.

What is distinctive in the biblical text is the conviction that there is a profound and indissoluble unity between the knowledge of reason and the knowledge of faith. The world and all that happens within it, including history and the fate of peoples, are realities to be observed, analysed and assessed with all the resources of reason, but without faith ever being foreign to the process. Faith intervenes not to abolish reason's autonomy nor to reduce its scope for action, but solely to bring the human being to understand that in these events it is the God of Israel who acts. Thus the world and the events of history cannot be understood in depth without professing faith in the God who is at work in them. Faith sharpens the inner eye, opening the mind to discover in the flux of events the workings of Providence. Here the words of the Book of Proverbs are pertinent: “The human mind plans the way, but the Lord directs the steps” (16:9). This is to say that with the light of reason human beings can know which path to take, but they can follow that path to its end, quickly and unhindered, only if with a rightly tuned spirit they search for it within the horizon of faith. Therefore, reason and faith cannot be separated without diminishing the capacity of men and women to know themselves, the world and God in an appropriate way.

17. There is thus no reason for competition of any kind between reason and faith: each contains the other, and each has its own scope for action. Again the Book of Proverbs points in this direction when it exclaims: “It is the glory of God to conceal things, but the glory of kings is to search things out” (Prov 25:2). In their respective worlds, God and the human being are set within a unique relationship. In God there lies the origin of all things, in him is found the fullness of the mystery, and in this his glory consists; to men and women there falls the task of exploring truth with their reason, and in this their nobility consists. The Psalmist adds one final piece to this mosaic when he says in prayer: “How deep to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I try to count them, they are more than the sand. If I come to the end, I am still with you” (139:17-18). The desire for knowledge is so great and it works in such a way that the human heart, despite its experience of insurmountable limitation, yearns for the infinite riches which lie beyond, knowing that there is to be found the satisfying answer to every question as yet unanswered.

18. We may say, then, that Israel, with her reflection, was able to open to reason the path that leads to the mystery. With the Revelation of God Israel could plumb the depths of all that she sought in vain to reach by way of reason. On the basis of this deeper form of knowledge, the Chosen People understood that, if reason were to be fully true to itself, then it must respect certain basic rules. The first of these is that reason must realize that human knowledge is a journey which allows no rest; the second stems from the awareness that such a path is not for the proud who think that everything is the fruit of personal conquest; a third rule is grounded in the “fear of God” whose transcendent sovereignty and provident love in the governance of the world reason must recognize.

In abandoning these rules, the human being runs the risk of failure and ends up in the condition of “the fool”. For the Bible, in this foolishness there lies a threat to life. The fool thinks that he knows many things, but really he is incapable of fixing his gaze on the things that truly matter. Therefore he can neither order his mind (Prov 1:7) nor assume a correct attitude to himself or to the world around him. And so when he claims that “God does not exist” (cf. Ps 14:1), he shows with absolute clarity just how deficient his knowledge is and just how far he is from the full truth of things, their origin and their destiny.

19. The Book of Wisdom contains several important texts which cast further light on this theme. There the sacred author speaks of God who reveals himself in nature. For the ancients, the study of the natural sciences coincided in large part with philosophical learning. Having affirmed that with their intelligence human beings can “know the structure of the world and the activity of the elements... the cycles of the year and the constellations of the stars, the natures of animals and the tempers of wild beasts” (Wis 7:17, 19-20)—in a word, that he can philosophize—the sacred text takes a significant step forward. Making his own the thought of Greek philosophy, to which he seems to refer in the context, the author affirms that, in reasoning about nature, the human being can rise to God: “From the greatness and beauty of created things comes a corresponding perception of their Creator” (Wis 13:5). This is to recognize as a first stage of divine Revelation the marvellous “book of nature”, which, when read with the proper tools of human reason, can lead to knowledge of the Creator. If human beings with their intelligence fail to recognize God as Creator of all, it is not because they lack the means to do so, but because their free will and their sinfulness place an impediment in the way.

20. Seen in this light, reason is valued without being overvalued. The results of reasoning may in fact be true, but these results acquire their true meaning only if they are set within the larger horizon of faith: “All man's steps are ordered by the Lord: how then can man understand his own ways?” (Prov 20:24). For the Old Testament, then, faith liberates reason in so far as it allows reason to attain correctly what it seeks to know and to place it within the ultimate order of things, in which everything acquires true meaning. In brief, human beings attain truth by way of reason because, enlightened by faith, they discover the deeper meaning of all things and most especially of their own existence. Rightly, therefore, the sacred author identifies the fear of God as the beginning of true knowledge: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge” (Prov 1:7; cf. Sir 1:14).

“Acquire wisdom, acquire understanding” (Prov 4:5)

21. For the Old Testament, knowledge is not simply a matter of careful observation of the human being, of the world and of history, but supposes as well an indispensable link with faith and with what has been revealed. These are the challenges which the Chosen People had to confront and to which they had to respond. Pondering this as his situation, biblical man discovered that he could understand himself only as “being in relation”—with himself, with people, with the world and with God. This opening to the mystery, which came to him through Revelation, was for him, in the end, the source of true knowledge. It was this which allowed his reason to enter the realm of the infinite where an understanding for which until then he had not dared to hope became a possibility.

For the sacred author, the task of searching for the truth was not without the strain which comes once the limits of reason are reached. This is what we find, for example, when the Book of Proverbs notes the weariness which comes from the effort to understand the mysterious designs of God (cf. 30:1-6). Yet, for all the toil involved, believers do not surrender. They can continue on their way to the truth because they are certain that God has created them “explorers” (cf. Qoh 1:13), whose mission it is to leave no stone unturned, though the temptation to doubt is always there. Leaning on God, they continue to reach out, always and everywhere, for all that is beautiful, good and true.

22. In the first chapter of his Letter to the Romans, Saint Paul helps us to appreciate better the depth of insight of the Wisdom literature's reflection. Developing a philosophical argument in popular language, the Apostle declares a profound truth: through all that is created the “eyes of the mind” can come to know God. Through the medium of creatures, God stirs in reason an intuition of his “power” and his “divinity” (cf. Rom 1:20). This is to concede to human reason a capacity which seems almost to surpass its natural limitations. Not only is it not restricted to sensory knowledge, from the moment that it can reflect critically upon the data of the senses, but, by discoursing on the data provided by the senses, reason can reach the cause which lies at the origin of all perceptible reality. In philosophical terms, we could say that this important Pauline text affirms the human capacity for metaphysical enquiry.

According to the Apostle, it was part of the original plan of the creation that reason should without difficulty reach beyond the sensory data to the origin of all things: the Creator. But because of the disobedience by which man and woman chose to set themselves in full and absolute autonomy in relation to the One who had created them, this ready access to God the Creator diminished.

This is the human condition vividly described by the Book of Genesis when it tells us that God placed the human being in the Garden of Eden, in the middle of which there stood “the tree of knowledge of good and evil” (2:17). The symbol is clear: man was in no position to discern and decide for himself what was good and what was evil, but was constrained to appeal to a higher source. The blindness of pride deceived our first parents into thinking themselves sovereign and autonomous, and into thinking that they could ignore the knowledge which comes from God. All men and women were caught up in this primal disobedience, which so wounded reason that from then on its path to full truth would be strewn with obstacles. From that time onwards the human capacity to know the truth was impaired by an aversion to the One who is the source and origin of truth. It is again the Apostle who reveals just how far human thinking, because of sin, became “empty”, and human reasoning became distorted and inclined to falsehood (cf. Rom 1:21-22). The eyes of the mind were no longer able to see clearly: reason became more and more a prisoner to itself. The coming of Christ was the saving event which redeemed reason from its weakness, setting it free from the shackles in which it had imprisoned itself.

23. This is why the Christian's relationship to philosophy requires thorough-going discernment. In the New Testament, especially in the Letters of Saint Paul, one thing emerges with great clarity: the opposition between “the wisdom of this world” and the wisdom of God revealed in Jesus Christ. The depth of revealed wisdom disrupts the cycle of our habitual patterns of thought, which are in no way able to express that wisdom in its fullness.

The beginning of the First Letter to the Corinthians poses the dilemma in a radical way. The crucified Son of God is the historic event upon which every attempt of the mind to construct an adequate explanation of the meaning of existence upon merely human argumentation comes to grief. The true key-point, which challenges every philosophy, is Jesus Christ's death on the Cross. It is here that every attempt to reduce the Father's saving plan to purely human logic is doomed to failure. “Where is the one who is wise? Where is the learned? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?” (1 Cor 1:20), the Apostle asks emphatically. The wisdom of the wise is no longer enough for what God wants to accomplish; what is required is a decisive step towards welcoming something radically new: “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise...; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not to reduce to nothing things that are” (1 Cor 1:27-28). Human wisdom refuses to see in its own weakness the possibility of its strength; yet Saint Paul is quick to affirm: “When I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor 12:10). Man cannot grasp how death could be the source of life and love; yet to reveal the mystery of his saving plan God has chosen precisely that which reason considers “foolishness” and a “scandal”. Adopting the language of the philosophers of his time, Paul comes to the summit of his teaching as he speaks the paradox: “God has chosen in the world... that which is nothing to reduce to nothing things that are” (cf. 1 Cor 1:28). In order to express the gratuitous nature of the love revealed in the Cross of Christ, the Apostle is not afraid to use the most radical language of the philosophers in their thinking about God. Reason cannot eliminate the mystery of love which the Cross represents, while the Cross can give to reason the ultimate answer which it seeks. It is not the wisdom of words, but the Word of Wisdom which Saint Paul offers as the criterion of both truth and salvation.

The wisdom of the Cross, therefore, breaks free of all cultural limitations which seek to contain it and insists upon an openness to the universality of the truth which it bears. What a challenge this is to our reason, and how great the gain for reason if it yields to this wisdom! Of itself, philosophy is able to recognize the human being's ceaselessly self-transcendent orientation towards the truth; and, with the assistance of faith, it is capable of accepting the “foolishness” of the Cross as the authentic critique of those who delude themselves that they possess the truth, when in fact they run it aground on the shoals of a system of their own devising. The preaching of Christ crucified and risen is the reef upon which the link between faith and philosophy can break up, but it is also the reef beyond which the two can set forth upon the boundless ocean of truth. Here we see not only the border between reason and faith, but also the space where the two may meet.

For the rest, please refer to the full document, link at beginning of all related posts ... God Bless!

Errr ... u r referring to Laudato Si?

for the record, I am only 1/3 through Fides et Ratio, and have yet to read the older Dei Verbum.

however, from what i read, it is truly an eye opener. the encyclicals may be long winded, but at least they are thorough and leave very little open to private / individual (mis)intepretation ... although some will still choose to go commando on that point ... hahahahaha!!!!!

Laudato Si, does present the relation. after all God made man to be stewards of the Earth correct? So then, God would abhor the defilers of all that He made good, i.e. the Earth and all that live in it, yes?

The Empire and the Early Church
A Tale of Persecution—and Justice
By: Christopher Check

They refuse to obey an imperial edict to burn incense before the idols of the ancient Roman gods. They are 40 legionaries serving on the Armenian frontier and they are Christians. Christianity recently had been declared legal by Constantine, but his authority is in the west. His counterpart in the east is Licinius, who is resentful of Constantine’s growing power and of his growing interest in Christianity. Licinius ignores the lessons learned by emperors, governors, and prefects of Rome’s past three centuries: Persecution has only increased the resolve and numbers of this troublesome sect. He ignores the words of Tertullian that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the faith.

The local magistrate warns the soldiers of the disgrace that will befall them should they not offer the sacrifice. He offers promotion to any that will. Yet “no threat or bribe will induce them to forsake Jesus Christ” (Giuseppe Riciotti, The Age of Martyrs: Christianity from Diocletian to Constantine, 212).

Bound with one chain and confined to a small cell, they write a letter exhorting their fellow Christians to leave aside the things of this world and to fix their hearts on heaven. Knowing they are to be martyred, they urge their fellow Christians not to quarrel over their relics.

After weeks in jail, they are sentenced: They are to be stripped of their clothes, marched to the middle of a frozen lake, and exposed to the cold and wind of the Armenian winter until they are dead. Around the lake the local governor has posted guards and set up fires and warm baths to tempt them, but “an insurmountable barrier stands between them and the shore: the unseen Christ, whom they would have to deny to grasp the life that is leaving their bodies moment by moment” (Riciotti , 212). The soldiers pray that none of them will fail, that all 40 will gain the crown of martyrdom.

The bitter cold and the darkness of night take their toll. The faith of one falters, and he crawls for the bank, but when he is plunged in a bath the shock of the hot water takes his life. A pagan guard, inspired by the faith of the remaining 39, declares himself a Christian, strips off his clothes and runs onto the ice, restoring their number to 40. By morning they are all dead save the youngest, Meliton, who dies soon after in his mother’s arms.

The ordeal of the 40 Martyrs of Sebastia is the last snap of the dragon’s tail. Within three years Licinius will fall to Constantine’s armies. Eusebius casts the war between the two Augusti as a conflict in salvation history, with Constantine the champion of Christianity against Licinius, the last defender of the ancient pagan gods.

But there is more to the story. To be sure, it was Constantine who at last brought liberty to the early Church, but his edicts were not without precedent. It is a caricature to describe the first 300 years of the Church as an underground organization constantly persecuted by a hostile Roman state. While there were periods of terrible persecution, there were also lengthy periods of cooperation and convergence that culminated in Constantine’s Edict of Milan.

During the first decades of the Church, Christians in Palestine generally enjoyed the protection of Roman justice, which, as we know from the trial of our Lord, reserved to itself capital sentences and attempted not to interfere with the religions of the various peoples of the empire. The stoning of St. Stephen, for example, was one of the “occasional acts of brutal popular justice which were unauthorized but which the Roman authorities could not always prevent” (Marta Sordi, The Christians and the Roman Empire, 12).

Protected by Tiberius

Tertullian and Justin Martyr record that after the Crucifixion of Jesus Christ, Pontius Pilate reported to the emperor his frustration with the Sanhedrin because they reacted to the growth of Christianity with a series of illegal trials and executions.

Tertullian relates that Emperor Tiberius, after reading Pilate’s report, was so taken with the peaceful nature of the Christians that he proposed to the senate that Jesus Christ be added to the Roman pantheon. The Senate, perhaps because Tiberius was unpopular, rejected the proposal and declared Christianity a superstitio illicita, an illegal cult. Tiberius, hoping to free the Christians from the oppression of the Sanhedrin, undercut the law with a veto against any future accusations against Christians. The veracity of the story is debated by historians, but since it is the only written account of how Christianity came to be illegal, there is good reason to believe it.

Tiberius then sent an envoy to Judea to sack Caiaphus, the high priest of the Jews, probably for the crime of executing Stephen. The Acts of the Apostles reports that thereafter the “Church had peace throughout all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria” (Acts 9:31), the very three regions under Roman rule.

For the next three decades Christians enjoyed the protection of Tiberius’s veto, with two exceptions. First, from 41-44, the Romans surrendered rule of Judea to Herod Agrippa, during whose reign James the Greater became the first apostle to die for Christ. Herod Agrippa, seeing that his execution of James “pleased the Jews” (Acts 12:3), arrested and imprisoned Peter.

Second, during a subsequent absence of Roman rule in 62, James the Lesser, first Bishop of Jerusalem, was thrown from the roof of the temple, then stoned, then dealt the death blow to the head with a club. Jewish historian Flavius Josephus reports that the chief priest Ananius and the Sanhedrin were taking advantage of a temporary vacancy in the Roman governor’s seat.

Paul’s Treatment

It is illustrative to look at the Romans’ treatment of Paul. He was brought before the Roman proconsul (Acts 18) and twice before the Roman procurator in Judea by the Jewish authorities (Acts 21, 23, 25). The Romans refused to intervene in a religious quarrel between Christians and Jews. It is in this atmosphere of something between tolerance and benevolence that Sergius Paulus, Roman proconsul of Cyprus, moved by the preaching of Paul and Barnabas, “learned to believe” (Acts 13:12). Sergius Paulus became a close friend of Paul, and his whole family converted.
Things do not turn dark for the Church until the reign of Nero, although not right away, for Paul is acquitted at his first trial, and continues to preach the gospel in the emperor’s household (Phil 1:13) and throughout the praetorium (Phil 4:22). His time there perhaps inspired the whole-armor-of-God imagery in Ephesians.

During the reign of Nero, a woman of the senatorial class, Poponia Graecina, a convert to Christianity, was declared innocent in a public trial. Pagan historian Tacitus reports that she continued her austere way of life and passed on her Christianity to her descendants. Other prominent families of the aristocratic classes were Christian: The Pudens family housed and fed Peter, and their home on the Esquiline hill is the site of Santa Pudenziana today.

Nero Fiddles

When rumors that Nero started the great fire of 64 would not go away, he chose an easy scapegoat: the Christian community in Rome. Christians were not universally liked. Their strict moral code may explain why they were accused of, as Tacitus puts it, “hatred of the human race.” Peter describes pagans slandering Christians for their unwillingness to participate in “lawless disorders” (1 Pt 4:4). Pagan and Jewish enemies spread wild stories of criminal activities. “They will speak ill of you as workers of evil deeds,” writes Peter (1 Pt 2:12). We know from contemporary sources what these evil deeds were: human sacrifice and cannibalism (deliberate misrepresentations of the Eucharist) and incest (a deliberate twisting of the Christian practice of calling one another brother and sister).

The Roman historian Lactantius blames Nero’s persecutions on the growing number of Romans who were abandoning the worship of idols for the new religion. The fire may have accelerated persecutions that were already gaining steam. Paul seems to have been martyred before the fire and Peter after.

When the storm broke, the first persecution was brutal. Tacitus, no friend of the Christians, reports:

" ... Yet no human effort, no princely largess nor offerings to the gods could make that infamous rumor disappear that Nero had somehow ordered the fire. Therefore, in order to abolish that rumor, Nero falsely accused and executed with the most exquisite punishments those people called Christians . . . And perishing, they were additionally made into sports: They were killed by dogs by having the hides of beasts attached to them, or they were nailed to crosses or set aflame, and, when the daylight passed away, they were used as nighttime lamps. . . . [P]eople began to pity these sufferers, because they were consumed not for the public good but on account of the fierceness of one man. (Annals, 44.2-44.5) ... "

Nero, by allowing Christians to be accused of superstitio illicita, created a legal precedent that until then had only existed on the books. The first two rulers of the Flavian dynasty, Vespasian and his son Titus, however, rejected emperor-worship and tolerated the growing number of Christians, even in their own households. Vespasian’s brother, Flavius Sabinus, was one. Vespasian had come to know Christianity during his time in Palestine, where he concluded that Christians were not a political threat to the empire.

When Vespasian’s second son Domitian (81-96) revived the idea of the emperor as a god, he reignited the persecution of Christians, killing his own cousin, Flavius Clemens, a consul. Domitian’s persecutions coincide with the writing of Revelation, thus: the woman “drunk with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus” (Rv 17:6). Domitian’s successors, from Nerva to Marcus Aurelius (96-161), maintained laws against Christianity, but did not undertake any general campaign of persecution.

Pliny’s Plight

We get a glimpse into relations between the Church and the empire during the reign of Trajan (98-117). Trajan was a great soldier and hardworking administrator. When troubles broke out in the province of Bithynia, he sent Pliny the Younger to troubleshoot. Their correspondence resulted in the famous document all good Latin students know as Trajan’s Rescript.

Pliny explains that Christianity is quite popular among people of all classes and ages, urban and rural, and because so many have converted, the temple-sacrifice business is down. Christians had made enemies of not only pagan priests but also livestock dealers. Because he has “never participated in trials of Christians,” Pliny does not know what “offenses it is the practice to punish or investigate.” Is age a factor? Should pardon be granted for repentance? He asks, “whether the name itself, even without offenses, or only the offenses associated with the name are to be punished.”

He outlines the procedure he has been following when accusations are brought before him. He interrogates the accused, and if he or she confesses, he repeats the questioning several times in hopes of gaining repentance. The stubborn were executed, though Roman citizens were transferred to Rome, as Paul had been. Pliny is disdainful of anonymous accusations, and he finds no evidence of actual wrongdoing in Christian ceremonies:

" ... They were accustomed to meet on a fixed day before dawn and sing together a hymn to Christ as to a god, and to bind themselves by oath, not to some crime, but not to commit fraud, theft, or adultery, not falsify their trust, nor to refuse to return a trust when called upon to do so. When this was over, it was their custom to depart and to assemble again to partake of food—but ordinary and innocent food. (Letters 10) ... "

Trajan responds:

" ... You observed proper procedure, my dear Pliny, in sifting the cases of those who had been denounced to you as Christians. For it is not possible to lay down any general rule to serve as a kind of fixed standard. They are not to be sought out (Conquirendi non sunt); if they are denounced and proved guilty, they are to be punished, with this reservation, that whoever denies that he is a Christian and really proves it—that is, by worshiping our gods—even though he was under suspicion in the past, shall obtain pardon through repentance. But anonymously posted accusations ought to have no place in any prosecution. For this is both a dangerous kind of precedent and out of keeping with the spirit of our age. ..."

So, from the Roman perspective, the practice of Christianity carried the death penalty, but Trajan does not seek reasons to execute people. No effort was to be made to seek them out and no anonymous accusations could lead to an arrest. This is Roman bureaucracy at its best and at its worst. Trajan and Pliny are dedicated public servants laboring under legal precedents that could lead to the killing of innocent men. Trajan cannot repudiate a law from the reign of Tiberius, but he devises a lenient interpretation for Pliny to follow.

During this era a Christian could be ratted out, but informers were thought ill of in Roman society, and they ran the risk of bringing down the full weight of Roman justice on themselves should their accusations go unproved. Thus, persecutions varied by region. In an area with a large Christian population like Bithynia, only a fool would openly denounce a neighbor, so Christians who followed Paul’s injunction not deliberately to seek martyrdom enjoyed relative security.

Immigrants Fare Worse

In Lyons, however, matters were far worse. There is a correspondence between Emperor Marcus Aurelius and the Roman officials in Lyons similar to Trajan’s rescript, but in this region where the Christian population comprised immigrants from Asia Minor, they were despised by the local Gallic population.

The account of the Lyons Martyrs, a contemporary letter copied by Eusebius, describes the horrifying ordeals of the leaders of this Christian community (most famous is Bl. Blandina) including:

" ... confinement in the darkest and most foul-smelling cells of the prison . . . in which a great many suffocated . . . the stretching of the feet on the stocks . . . the fixing of red-hot plates of brass to the most delicate parts of the body . . . exposure to wild beasts and roasting over a fire in an iron chair. (Church History V) ... "

The next emperor, Commodus, was the depraved adopted son of Marcus Aurelius. But even at his court there were Christians. His concubine, Marcia, who later conspired in his murder, was sympathetic to Christianity. By her intervention, Christian slaves were set free from the mines of Sardinia.

Trajan’s rescript remained the law during the reign of Septimius Severus (193-211) who sought to check the growth of Christianity by making conversion a crime. The famous convert martyrs of this period, mentioned in the Canon of the Mass, are Sts. Perpetua and Felicitas of Carthage.

Beginning with the reign of Caracalla (211-217), Christians enjoyed peace. There was even a Christian emperor during this period. Philip the Arab has been regarded as one of the empire’s worst emperors, but the opinion may be more the result of subsequent anti-Christian propaganda than an honest account of his administration, which lasted five years, unusually long for this period of unrest. He was murdered by Decius (249-251) who probably killed his reputation as well.

Plagued by barbarian invasions, Decius believed that the growth of the Christian sect was bringing down disfavor from the gods, so he issued an edict requiring all Christians to offer sacrifice to the pagan deities. Valerian (253-260) opened an empire-wide series of persecutions, and it is during this age that the patron of altar boys, Tarcisius, gave his life (see “Tarcisius,” page 11).
Two decades later, Emperor Aurelian (who built much of the wall surrounding Rome today) tolerated Christianity and even intervened in a dispute over ownership of a Church building in Antioch, ruling in favor of those Christians who were in union with the Bishop of Rome! Though the worst was yet to come under Diocletian, the way was already being cleared for peaceful coexistence.

At First, Peace

The bloodiest, and best documented, of the great persecutions came under Diocletian (284-305), though this emperor for whom the persecution is remembered was not, at first, its instigator. For most of Diocletian’s reign, Christians enjoyed peace and prosperity.

Diocletian was a courageous general. His political innovation, the tetrarchy, which divided rule of the massive Roman Empire between two augusti, one in the east and one in the west, and their caesars, or executive officers, restored order to an empire that had for five decades suffered chaos, rebellious legionaries, praetorians in revolt, and civil war. Of the 28 emperors who had preceded Diocletian, 22 had been murdered.

He moved the imperial capital from Rome to Nicomedia, near the Bosporus, on the grounds that the emperor was most needed on the frontier. Under Diocletian, building and public works began again in earnest throughout the empire, including the extraordinary baths named for him in Rome. He brought inflation under control. He even issued an edict promoting the institution of marriage, holding that chastity would draw down the favor of the gods on the empire. At the end of his reign, the old emperor abdicated and went off to his farm to grow cabbages.

There were Christians in Diocletian’s household. His wife, Prisca, and his daughter, Valeria, were catechumens. Officers of his court, including two chamberlains appointed by Diocletian himself, Gorgonius and Peter, were openly Christian. What is more, Diocletian had appointed Christians as governors of various provinces.

Diocletian’s caesar Galerius, however, was a lesser soldier and a man of lesser character altogether, though a skilled self-promoter. A violent and very large man, he rose from illiterate shepherd to caesar, and eventually to Augustus in the east, following Diocletian’s abdication. Diocleatian gave him his daughter, Valeria, in marriage.

It was not Valeria, however, but Galerius’ mother, a Corybantic priestess, who had influence on Galerius. She and other diviners, oracles, and soothsayers had seen—as in Trajan’s day—their businesses suffer as Christianity spread throughout the empire. Galerius also took to heart the work of pagan pamphleteers who argued that Christianity’s explicit rejection of the traditional Roman deities threatened the empire. Galerius viewed Christians serving in the army as a threat to unit cohesion and discipline, though there is no evidence that this was anything more than prejudice. (Many soldiers lost their lives during these persecutions, including St. Sebastian and St. George.)

The Worst Begins

At first Diocletian was reluctant to open a new round of persecutions. By this stage, Christians were well integrated into all levels of Roman society, and he saw persecution as politically unwise. When at last Galerius prevailed on the old emperor, the result was a series of four edicts beginning in 302, each more severe than the one before.

Eusebius reports that this first edict ordered the destruction of churches and the burning of Sacred Scripture. It also required the degrading of men of station who were Christian. The subsequent three edicts ordered the imprisonment of bishops and clergy, then the torture of imprisoned bishops and clergy, and finally the torture and imprisonment of the laity.

This persecution was fierce and empire-wide. Martyrs in Egypt, for example, had their legs tied to two young trees bent toward each other and then allowed to snap back, tearing the victim in half. The persecution continued in the east throughout Galerius’ reign and through that of Licinius, under whom the 40 Martyrs of Sebastia were frozen to death.

Triumph

The triumph of Constantine brought the persecutions to a close with the exception of a brief period half a century later under Julian the Apostate.

As we have seen, the common conception that Christians for the first 300 years were outlaws perpetually hounded by a hostile state is not accurate. There were periods of brutal persecution and also periods of peace. Most persecutions were local. Only two were empire-wide, those of Valerian and Diocletian. In the case of Diocletian’s persecutions, Constantius, father of Constantine, did not participate, leaving Britain, Gaul, and much of Spain at peace. With the exception of the persecutions under Nero, the systematic and horrible persecutions took place in the provinces, not in Rome.

These facts in no way detract from the heroism of the martyrs whose privations and tortures are good to recall when the inconveniences of daily life move us to self-pity. The charity of the martyrs for their torturers bears reflection when we encounter the periodic jerk. Pope John Paul II puts it more eloquently in Veritatis Splendor:

" ... Although martyrdom represents the high point of the witness to moral truth, and one to which relatively few people are called, there is nonetheless a consistent witness which all Christians must daily be ready to make, even at the cost of suffering and grave sacrifice. Indeed, faced with the many difficulties which fidelity to the moral order can demand, even in the most ordinary circumstances, the Christian is called, with the grace of God invoked in prayer, to a sometimes heroic commitment. (93) ... "

John Paul emphasizes that martyrs are a witness to moral clarity:

" ... By witnessing fully to the good, they are a living reproof to those who transgress the law (cf. Wis 2:12), and they make the words of the prophet echo ever afresh: “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter!” (Is 5:20) (VS 93) ... "

In this age when tolerance is touted as the highest good, it is well to remember that the early martyrs were not martyrs to the cause of religious tolerance. They were martyrs for the First Commandment. Roman rule was so successful partly because of its ability to reconcile so many beliefs and so many gods—to the satisfaction of most of its citizens. That entrenched syncretism reacted with everything from ridicule to rage to a Christianity that insisted on One God in Three Persons before whom there were no others. No early Christian said to his pagan friend, “You call him Sol Invictus and I call him Jesus Christ, but we basically worship the same God.”

Religious tolerance of a practical sort has political value, as more than one Roman official learned, but dogmatic tolerance is a sin against truth, and those who cannot see this distinction cannot defend their faith. A time may be fast approaching, however, when they will be called into circuses the horror of which will rival Nero’s. The difference will be no periods of relief from the order of Roman law.

SIDEBARS

Tarcisius

When the emperor Valerian ordered the execution of bishops, priests, and deacons, Christians attended Mass in basements and in the catacombs outside the city walls. Deacons would take Communion to Christians for whom getting to Mass was too dangerous.

On one such occasion, no deacon was available. The priest did not know what he would do until his altar boy, a young Roman boy of 11 named Tarcisius, stepped forward after Mass and said that he would carry Communion to some Christians waiting inside the city walls. The priest admired Tarcisius for his grit, gave him the Sacred Hosts wrapped in silk along with a quick blessing, and sent him toward the city.

All was going well until Tarcisius ran into some pagan boys his own age who asked him to come and join their game. Tarcisius thanked them, explained he had an errand to run, but said he would join them later.

“Oh! Christian boy!” One of the pagan boys sneered. “Is it that you think you are too good to play with us?” And they circled around Tarcisius.

“Not at all,” said Tarcisius. “I have something to deliver and must be on my way.”

“Well—show us what it is! What is the big secret, Christian boy?”

“It is no business of yours,” said Tarcisius, looking each of the boys squarely in the eye. “Now step aside and make way.”

Rather than step aside, the pagan boys closed their circle around Tarcisius, and as they did they picked up heavy sticks and rocks from the ground. One of them shouted, “I bet he's carrying the Christian Mysteries!”

“Are you, Christian boy?” demanded another. “Show us!”

Tarcisius, clutching his precious cargo to his chest made a dash for what looked like an opening in the circle, but he was not quick enough. The mob of boys closed around him and they began to club him with the stones and heavy sticks. Tarcisius did not cry out, but quietly prayed, ever clutching the Blessed Sacrament to his chest.

The pagan boys beat him to death.

With bloodied hands, they seized the bruised and broken body of Tarcisius and tried to twist the silk cloth carrying the Eucharist out of his dead arms. Although he had no life left in him, Tarcisius would not let go of our Lord. The boys tried for hours to pry his arms open but they failed and failed again. They left Tarcisius’s body by the side of the road for the vultures to eat.
After a time, some Christians went looking for Tarcisius, and when they found his broken and bloody corpse still clinging to the Blessed Sacrament, they guessed what had happened. Carefully lifting the small boy’s body, they gently bore it back to the priest, who by now had grown deeply concerned about his young altar boy. The Christians set the boy’s body at the foot of the priest, who knelt down and quietly brushed Tarcisius’s hair, matted with blood, away from his face and with his thumb made the Sign of the Cross on his forehead. At that moment, Tarcisius’s body unfolded its arms and released the Blessed Sacrament to the priest, and all who witnessed this knew that here was a holy Christian boy who had held Jesus in his arms and who now was being held forever in the arms of Jesus.

Reigns of Relevant Roman Emperors

Tiberius 14-37
Nero 54-68
Vespasian 69-79
Titus 79-81
Domitian 81-96
Trajan 98-117
Marcus Aurelius 161-180
Commodus 180-192
Septimius Severus 193-211
Caracalla 211-217
Phillip the Arab 244-249
Decius 249-251
Valerian 253-260
Aurelian 270-275
Diocletian 284-305
Licinius 308-324
Constantine 306-337
Julian the Apostate 355-363

Source: http://www.catholic.com/magazine/articles/...he-early-church

This post has been edited by khool: Jul 21 2015, 02:13 PM

God Bless!

What is CHIJMES?

Archbishop elect Robert Baron ...



God bless and have a good weekend!

Thanks!

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Lectionary: 110


Reading 1 (2 Kgs 4:42-44)

A man came from Baal-shalishah bringing to Elisha, the man of God,
twenty barley loaves made from the firstfruits,
and fresh grain in the ear.
Elisha said, “Give it to the people to eat.”
But his servant objected,
“How can I set this before a hundred people?”
Elisha insisted, “Give it to the people to eat.”
“For thus says the LORD,
‘They shall eat and there shall be some left over.’”
And when they had eaten, there was some left over,
as the LORD had said.


Responsorial Psalm (Ps 145:10-11, 15-16, 17-18)

R. (cf. 16) The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.
Let all your works give you thanks, O LORD,
and let your faithful ones bless you.
Let them discourse of the glory of your kingdom
and speak of your might.
R. The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.
The eyes of all look hopefully to you,
and you give them their food in due season;
you open your hand
and satisfy the desire of every living thing.
R. The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.
The LORD is just in all his ways
and holy in all his works.
The LORD is near to all who call upon him,
to all who call upon him in truth.
R. The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.


Reading 2 (Eph 4:1-6)

Brothers and sisters:
I, a prisoner for the Lord,
urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received,
with all humility and gentleness, with patience,
bearing with one another through love,
striving to preserve the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace:
one body and one Spirit,
as you were also called to the one hope of your call;
one Lord, one faith, one baptism;
one God and Father of all,
who is over all and through all and in all.


Alleluia (Lk 7:16)

R. Alleluia, alleluia.
A great prophet has arisen in our midst.
God has visited his people.
R. Alleluia, alleluia.


Gospel (Jn 6:1-15)

Jesus went across the Sea of Galilee.
A large crowd followed him,
because they saw the signs he was performing on the sick.
Jesus went up on the mountain,
and there he sat down with his disciples.
The Jewish feast of Passover was near.
When Jesus raised his eyes
and saw that a large crowd was coming to him,
he said to Philip,
“Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?”
He said this to test him,
because he himself knew what he was going to do.
Philip answered him,
“Two hundred days’ wages worth of food would not be enough
for each of them to have a little.”
One of his disciples,
Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, said to him,
“There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish;
but what good are these for so many?”
Jesus said, “Have the people recline.”
Now there was a great deal of grass in that place.
So the men reclined, about five thousand in number.
Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks,
and distributed them to those who were reclining,
and also as much of the fish as they wanted.
When they had had their fill, he said to his disciples,
“Gather the fragments left over,
so that nothing will be wasted.”
So they collected them,
and filled twelve wicker baskets with fragments
from the five barley loaves
that had been more than they could eat.
When the people saw the sign he had done, they said,
“This is truly the Prophet, the one who is to come into the world.”
Since Jesus knew that they were going to come and carry him off
to make him king,
he withdrew again to the mountain alone.

Blessed Sunday everyone!!!

Was at St. Anne's, Klang yesterday evening ... Father Paulino's homily rox!!!

This post has been edited by khool: Jul 27 2015, 09:48 AM

The Two Things Man Was Supposed to Do in Eden
Stephen Beale

There were two things Adam was supposed to do in the Garden of Eden.

Given that this was the terrestrial paradise—Eden could be translated as delight or pleasure—one might think Adam was meant to relax and take it easy.

But that’s not quite what Genesis 2:15 tells us: ‘The Lord God then took the man and settled him in the garden of Eden, to cultivate and care for it.’ That’s the New American Bible translation. A traditional rendering is ‘till and keep.’

Till and keep. That doesn’t sound like stuff you’d have to do in place called the Garden of Delights.

We tend to think of work as a hardship, a necessity ushered in by the Fall (see Genesis 3:17-19). But here, in a place called the Garden of Delights, work is part of the deal. Think about that for a moment: in the beginning, in his original condition free from sin, man was intended to work.

One biblical commentator neatly captures the significance of this verse:

" ... Even in paradise itself man had to work. None of us were sent into the world to be idle. He that made our souls and bodies, has given us something to work with; and he that gave us this earth for our habitation, has made us something to work upon. The sons and heirs of heaven, while in this world, have something to do about this earth, which must have its share of their time and thoughts; and if they do it with an eye to God, they as truly serve him in it, as when they are upon their knees. Observe that the husbandman’s calling is an ancient and honourable calling; it was needful even in paradise. Also, there is true pleasure in the business God calls us to, and employs us in. Adam could not have been happy if he had been idle. (From the commentary by Matthew Henry, a Welch Presbyterian minister who lived from the late 1660s to the early 1700s.) ... "

St. John Chrysostom, in his commentary on Genesis, agrees, emphasizing work as the antidote to sloth and sin:

" ... I mean, since life there was filled with every delight, was a pleasure to behold and a thrill to enjoy, he arranged accordingly that the human being should till the garden and watch over it lest he be unsettled by the exceeding indulgence. Well, why, do you ask, did the garden require attention by him? I’m not telling you that, but in fact God wanted him for a while to take some slight care that was appropriate in both watching and tilling. If, after all, he had been relieved of all need to work, he would have fallen a victim to great indulgence and at once have slipped into sloth; whereas in fact by performing some work that was painless and without difficulty he would be brought to a better frame of mind. ... "

The work is twofold: till and keep. The first applies to the plants of the garden. The second is less obvious but appears to refer to keeping watch over the animals. This is, for example, how the word is used in Genesis 30:31, in reference to Jacob as a keeper of flocks.

The question arises: how was this work different from the work that became a curse for man in Genesis 3:17-19. Read those verses closely. There, the work was tied to eating, the bare necessities of life. ‘In toil you shall eat its yield’ (verse 17) and ‘By the sweat of your brow you shall eat bread’ (verse 19).

We don’t have enough information to conclude that Adam’s work was not connected with the food he ate. But we do have enough information to know that God himself had already ‘planted’ the garden and grown the trees ‘good for food’ (Genesis 2:8-9). Work in the Garden of Eden wasn’t so much about surviving—as it would be after the Fall—as it was for the thriving of man.

Not only did the purpose of work seem to change, but the nature of the work itself most assuredly did. In Genesis 2:15 the call to ‘till and keep’ comes after God ‘settled’ or ‘put’ Adam in the garden. The Hebrew word for ‘put’ (yanach, pronounced as yä·nakh’) could also be translated as repose, have rest, be quiet. So a more literal translation might be: ‘God caused Adam to be rested and reposed.’

God’s action here necessarily informs the implicit command to ‘till and keep’ that follows. It suggests to us that in the Garden of Eden the work of man was restful. We can push the implications of this a bit further: perhaps one of the evil consequences of the fall has been this separation between work and rest, causing the work we do to not be restful and the rest we require as an escape from the stresses of work to not be productive.

On a natural level, the lesson here is significant: man was made for something, not the nothingness of luxurious idleness.

But the text also has a deeper meaning on a supernatural level. God did not create Adam, drop him off in paradise to have fun and leave him be. Adam’s work in paradise was ultimately meant to lead him to revere and worship God.

For Chrysostom this ultimate purpose is signified in the word ‘watch.’ He concludes:

" ... That phrase, ‘to watch over it,’ is not added idly: it is an instance of considerateness in expression to the effect that he might be fully aware that he was subject to a master who had regaled him with such enjoyment, and along with that enjoyment entrusted him with its protection. God, you see, creates everything and arranges it for our salvation. ... "

Today, this raises a number of challenging questions for us.

On a natural level: How can we find work that is more ‘restful’—that feeds our souls beyond just providing for the bare necessities of survival? To the extent that we as individuals can find this work we are living out our original purpose as human beings. And, to the extent that society creates the conditions where such work is increasingly available, it is one that better serves the common good than another.

Then the supernatural: How can our work bring us closer to God? How can we sanctify our work day? How can we acknowledge God’s ultimate sovereignty over what we do?

Ultimately, we are all called, through grace, to till and keep our own gardens of Eden.

Source: http://catholicexchange.com/the-two-things...d-to-do-in-eden

Errr ... discuss in what context bro?

Basically, it means don't be hypocritical and justify your wrong doings using my name?

Amen!