Christ’s declaration of His divinity in today’s Gospel is appropriate for the Feast of St. Athanasius, who has earned the title of “Champion of Christ’s Divinity” due to his staunch defense of Christ’s divinity against the heresy of Arianism. Arianism denied that Christ and the Father are co-eternal, falsely holding that the Son was begotten of the Father at a certain point in time. Arianism also falsely taught that the Son is subordinate to the Father, which is a terrible heresy and denial of Christ’s divinity.

Subscribe now

The truth about the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity—which St. Athanasius soundly defended, thereby earning himself the title of Doctor of the Church—is that Christ is the only-begotten Son of God, born of the Father before all ages. All three Persons of the Blessed Trinity are co-equal and co-eternal, for they share the same divine nature. The Son is begotten of the Father from all eternity, and the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and the Son from all eternity. This is a supernatural mystery that our human intellects cannot fully grasp, but as the Athanasian Creed summarizes, “[I]n this Trinity none is afore or after Other, None is greater or less than Another, but the whole Three Persons are Co-eternal together, and Co-eternal.”

While our intellects can never fully comprehend this great mystery, we are obliged under pain of grave sin to believe that the three divine Persons are co-equal and co-eternal, being three distinct Persons Who share the same divine nature. St. Athanasius devoted his entire life to defending the truth of the Trinity, even when subjected to false accusations against his character. Eventually, the slander mounted; his enemies falsely accused St. Athanasius of murdering a bishop, and shortly thereafter, the saint was exiled to Germany. When he returned from exile, his enemies continued to calumniate him, resulting in his second exile and deposition from the see of Alexandria.

The rest of St. Athanasius’ life was spent experiencing false accusations and five different exiles, for a total of seventeen years spent in exile for his unwavering defense of Christ’s divinity (Catholic Online). He died in Alexandria on May 2, 373. On the feast of this great saint and defender of the truth, may he intercede for us to deepen our faith in the truth of the Blessed Trinity and Christ’s divinity, without which we cannot truly know and love God.

St. Athanasius, ora pro nobis!

One of the devil’s biggest traps—a temptation he employs frequently—is that of discouragement. When we become discouraged, emotional exhaustion and spiritual apathy settle in. If we don’t recognize discouragement for what it is—a temptation to be avoided—and if we don’t fight against it through means of constant humble prayer, we are likely to sink lower into despondency.

I once gave in to discouragement. My life held a great deal of grief and trauma, and I could see no way out. Confusion, chaos, gaslighting and verbal tirades had left me exhausted to the utmost. Although I still prayed, I also sunk into discouragement, a crushing discouragement that pulled me away from my true self and what God wanted me to do. Instead, I was immersed in fear and hopelessness—I was not who God wanted me to be. My soul moved backward.

If I’d rooted myself in what St. Catherine of Siena calls the “house of self-knowledge,” despair wouldn’t have found a foothold within my soul. If I had focused on the One Who Is rather than on my misery, the trap would not have closed in upon me.

The house of self- knowledge consists of the knowledge of ourselves—that without God, we are nothing—seasoned with the knowledge of God within us—that we are made in His image and likeness and redeemed by the Precious Blood of His Son.

So indeed it is true that of ourselves we are nothing ... This ought to make us always lowly and humble.

But it would not be good to dwell exclusively in this knowledge of ourselves because we would become discouraged and weary, and from discouragement we would end up in despair. Now the devil wants nothing more than to lead us to discouragement, so that he can eventually bring us to despair. So we ought to dwell in knowledge of God’s goodness within us, realizing that He has created us in His own image and likeness and created us anew to grace in the Blood of His only-begotten Son, the gentle Word incarnate, and that God’s goodness is continually at work in us. But note, on the other hand, that it wouldn’t be good to dwell excessively in this knowledge of God, because we would become proud and presumptuous. So the one knowledge should always be combined with the knowledge of ourselves. Then we will be humble, patient, and meek.

( St. Catherine of Siena, Letter T23)

In other words, the house of self-knowledge consists of the knowledge that we are black but lovely (Song of Songs 1:5). We have become blackened with sin, shame and weakness, yet because we have been made in God’s image and redeemed by Our Bridegroom, He can truly say to us, “How beautiful you are my love, how beautiful you are!” (Sg 4:1)

Yet it can be difficult to remember God’s truth about ourselves. There are times we doubt His word, or feel such dryness in prayer that the beauty of Scripture reaches our heads but not our hearts. Perhaps the impact of the world feels too great of a burden, as once it did for me. Those are the times we mut be on our guard against discouragement. Our purely human discouragement can all too quickly open the door to the temptation of spiritual despair.

The faithful can’t be tempted with overt vices and evil, such as lust or gluttony or any of the other deadly sins. Instead, the devil must be more covert, “the most crafty of all the creatures” (Gen. 3:1). That’s why he tries to use discouragement to lead the faithful astray and into despair. He doesn’t want us to dwell in our house of self-knowledge or realize how beautiful we are as God continuously gazes at us.

[The devil] cannot trick God’s servants with what is obviously evil or with an excessively broad conscience, so he tries to trick them with scrupulosity and unwarranted discouragement, under the pretext of virtue … The devil cannot use what is obviously evil to make God’s servants fall, so he tries to use the appearance of virtue to make them fall. And so he gains more ground with them by means of discouragement than in any other way.

(St. Catherine of Siena, Letter T335)

Share

The key to avoiding discouragement is to remain in our house of self-knowledge, grounded in the humble truth of who we are as children of our heavenly Father, enveloped with the peaceful knowledge that of ourselves we can do nothing, but in Christ we can do all things (Phil. 4:13).

Understand that God allows these ordeals only so that we may test in ourselves the virtues of patience and courage and perseverance. These virtues have their wellspring in self-knowledge … Wise people realize this, and they are happy in time of struggle because they see that God allows it to make them grow into greater and more proven virtue. For virtue is tested and seen to be truly virtue only through what is contrary to it.

Remaining in prayer during times of discouragement—especially if prayer seems dry and lifeless—gives us the stamina of spirit that is required to continue the soul’s journey toward God. By not giving up on prayer and not giving in to desolation, we open our souls to receive the shower of graces our Lord longs to give us. By this persistence in prayer, our Divine Bridegroom will see how much we love and desire Him—which greatly consoles His Sacred Heart.

Special Offer!

If you’re intrigued by the life of St. Catherine of Siena and want to learn more, my adaptation of her early life (part one of a two book series) is currently on sale when you purchase directly from my website.

Learn more about World Between Worlds: A Novel Based on the Early Life of Caterina, the Mystic of Siena.

You can also purchase on Amazon using my affiliate link.

John 13:16-20

(When Jesus had washed the disciples’ feet, he said to them)

16 Amen, amen I say to you: The servant is not greater than his lord; neither is the apostle greater than he that sent him. 17 If you know these things, you shall be blessed if you do them. 18 I speak not of you all: I know whom I have chosen. But that the scripture may be fulfilled: He that eateth bread with me, shall lift up his heel against me. 19 At present I tell you, before it come to pass: that when it shall come to pass, you may believe that I am he. 20 Amen, amen I say to you, he that receiveth whomsoever I send, receiveth me; and he that receiveth me, receiveth him that sent me.

Today’s short passage is remarkably rich in meaning. First, we are reminded of our Lord’s amazing humility. Even to consider for a moment that God would become man is amazing. That the God man would allow Himself to be tortured and killed to redeem the very men who caused His suffering is unfathomable. But now, Jesus... God, washes the feet of even the one who would betray Him!

Saint Peter’s response was the only reasonable answer. He basically jumped up and yelled that he could not allow God to do such a humble act of service for him. What would we do if Jesus appeared to us? Well, we would probably run to worship Him, fall prostrate on the ground, washing His feet with our tears, begging forgiveness as did Saint Mary Magdalene. We would long to embrace Him, but would be so awestruck that I doubt we could even speak. Now, imagine Jesus removing our shoes and washing our feet! That is the opposite of the worship due God.

Although the Bible does not give us the details of Judas’ response, we may imagine that his was the opposite. We know that he did not believe in the divinity of Christ. He thought Jesus was a fraud, and probably only followed Him to steal from the monies that were held in common. If he felt entitled to their funds, did he feel entitled to be served by Jesus? Was he arrogant and prideful? He must have held our Lord in contempt to betray Him.

Whether we accept Jesus and worship Him as He commands is up to each of us. Some leave the Church He founded and choose to worship our Lord in ways that they think best. Some stay in the Catholic Church but hold beliefs that are opposed to the teaching of Jesus and His Church. Jesus never forces anyone to believe or to obey. If one believes that they know better than Jesus and His Church, that He guaranteed to be free from all error, they may. But, that is the same sin committed by Judas. We would do well to consider this, and follow the example of Saint Peter who immediately changed his mind and begged our Lord to wash his head and hands, too. Obedience to Christ must override our opinions and even natural reactions.

Judson Carroll is the author of several books, including his newest, A Daily Catholic Devotional, Reflections on the Daily Mass Readings July - December, 2026 It is Available in paperback on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GRGY1D15

A Daily Catholic Devotional, Reflections on the Daily Mass Readings January - June, 2026 It is also available in paperback on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GDK16N45

and

Confirmation, an Autobiography of Faith: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C47Q1JNK

His podcast is The Uncensored Catholic https://www.spreaker.com/show/the-uncensored-catholic

Authority is an immensely important reality within the context of human life. It is even more important in the life of the Church. Our Lord expresses this fact in the Gospel for today. It is Christ who comes in the name of God, the Father. The Son is sent to reveal the Father and to lead man to union with God. This is the glory of the Incarnation, that God becomes man so that the rift between man and God can be repaired, and we might have eternal life, as Our Lord says further on, “And I know that his commandment is eternal life. What I say, therefore, I say as the Father has bidden me.”1 God desires that eternal life be given to those who would follow the words of Christ. Thus, there is an explicit connection between obedience and salvation.

This should not come as a surprise to us, as it was through disobedience that man fell in the beginning.2 That disobedience brought about Original Sin and cut man off from God. In like manner, according to a sublime fittingness, Our Lord repairs that disobedience with an example of obedience in His absolute abandonment to God in the Garden of Gethsemane:

Thus, the necessity of obedience is emphasized by Christ. To tie this into today’s Gospel, Our Lord emphasizes that in believing in Him, by extension, you believe in the Father. The converse is true as well; if we reject Christ, we are rejecting the Father. We should, likewise, carry this down from Christ to those whom He has sent just as the Father has sent Him. This is why the Lord tells the Apostles, “He who hears you hears me, and he who rejects you rejects me, and he who rejects me rejects him who sent me.”3 The Apostles and their Successors have been given the authority of governance in the Church, with Peter at the head.4 Thus, we ought to have a disposition of obedience to St. Peter and his successors and to the Bishops of the Catholic Church. We must have an ardent desire to stay within the Barque of Peter, as outside of that Ark, there is no salvation,5 as foreshadowed by Noah and the Flood.6

Today’s feast day is of a saint particularly close to my heart, St. Catherine of Siena. The Mystic of Siena labored during a time of great confusion in the church when the Pope resided in Avignon. After Pope Gregory XI returned to Rome under Catherine’s influence, he died, and Pope Urban VI was elected. From there, the French Cardinals elected their own pope, and the Great Western Schism began. During this time, even though Urban VI was a volatile figure and was not very well liked, Catherine continuously promoted obedience to the true pope against the anti-popes of Avignon.

This great Mystic reminds us of the necessity of obedience. That is when we listen to the Holy Father within the context of faith and morals; we are listening to Christ. Not everything the Pope says is infallible. Not everything the Pope says is even authoritative. The levels of assent given to Church teaching are a very nuanced subject.7 But one principle, to my mind, seems to be the foundational approach when it comes to Magisterial teaching:

If we approach magisterial teaching with a starting point of “Do I have to obey this?” We have begun in a fundamentally flawed place.

This does not mean that we will not struggle. This does not mean that it won’t be hard, as is demonstrated in the times of St. Catherine of Siena. We have to encounter ambiguity and even the scandal of bad popes and prelates. Not all live up to the immense call that Christ has given. That is the reality.

But the Catholic position is to be a St. Catherine.

At the end of the day, obedience, prudence, and humility are the key virtues that every Catholic must embody in our consideration of what is said by our shepherds. These are non-negotiable. These, then, must be ordered toward charity and justice. St. Thomas teaches on judgment:

As stated above (A. 3, ad 2), from the very fact that a man thinks ill of another without sufficient cause, he injures and despises him. Now no man ought to despise or in any way injure another man without urgent cause: and, consequently, unless we have evident indications of a person’s wickedness, we ought to deem him good, by interpreting for the best whatever is doubtful about him.8

This means, all things being equal, we are to assume the best intentions out of charity when it comes to our neighbor. This includes our superiors, especially the Pope and the Bishops in union with him. We are bound to interpret their words in charity. This benefit of the doubt only ends when there is manifest and undeniable danger to the faith.9 For St. Thomas, this is a clear departure from ambiguity and matters of prudence and entrance into objective and undeniable contradiction. Unless we find ourselves in a place where there is such a publicly manifest contradiction of Church teaching, we are to proceed according to charity as the Angelic Doctor reminds us.

These are important matters that Our Lord reminds us of in today’s Gospel. Obedience, humility, and prudence are key in the life of the Catholic. We must keep ourselves aligned with the perennial teachings of the Catholic Church according to these virtues. In addition, St. Thomas warns us against rash judgment, teaching that we need urgent cause to think ill of another man. How would our spiritual lives be different if we followed the Angelic Doctor on these matters and refrained from rash judgment? An error that is dangerous to the faith must be called out, especially if it is by a prelate. But the prudential guidance of the Church’s greatest theologian is that it must only be done in the case of a manifest and clear danger to the faith, and not in a situation that could be made to look like such.

Share

Leave a comment

For more from Dr. McGovern, visit his Substack at A Thomist, Dedicated to the Theological tradition of St. Thomas Aquinas. Exploring Thomas’ Spiritual Theology and topics in Christology and Mariology.

In modern-day scholarship, it is common for scholars to claim that the Christ of the Gospels is not the Christ of Faith. They desire to make a distinction between the two and go so far as to claim that any miraculous event recorded in the Gospels is a fabrication of the early Church as a response to the Resurrection. Thus, the post-resurrection Jesus is a different reality than the pre-resurrection Jesus. Among biblical scholars, this also creates a dichotomy between what is recorded as “historical” and what is recorded as “miraculous.” Specifically, this happens with the Gospels being put at odds with one another: the Synoptics vs. John. Many modern-day scholars outright reject John, seeing it as a later fabrication that seeks to make Jesus of Nazareth into God. Much of this thought process stems from the fact that John is almost universally regarded as being a much later writing than the Synoptics.1

While the dating of the Gospels is quite a bit of a subject of disagreement, the most likely dating places the Synoptics as written almost certainly before the fall of the Temple in AD 70, with the most likely range for each being the mid 50s to early 60s. As for John, the most likely dating of this Gospel is in the 90s. Due to this gap, John is seen as a text inspired by the Synoptics with added miraculous events and divine claims to sensationalize the life of Jesus. Much of modern scholarship claims that Jesus did not consider Himself to be divine and that the early church merely projected onto Him this status. Take these quotes, for example:

In reality, all four Gospels are united under one claim:

I recently authored an article investigating the divine claims of Christ during Holy Week according to St. Matthew’s account. This was done from the perspective that Christ was publicly revealing His divine nature as a climax toward the crucifixion. You can find that here. Similarly, in this article, I want to explore what are referred to as the Epiphany Miracles and show how each has a distinctly divine claim behind it. These will be taken from the Synoptics to show that modern claims of a sensationalist reading of John are a rupture from the united revelation of the four canonical Gospels as a whole. Where it is helpful, John will be referenced.

The Son of Man Coming on the Clouds

Jesus of Nazareth must be understood in the context of Second Temple Judaism and their expectations for the Messiah. It is this belief that legitimizes Christ’s claim to be the Messiah as well as the records kept by the Gospel writers. While multiple strains of thought dominated the theological landscape, there was an authentic tradition that viewed the Messiah as a heavenly figure, seen as equal to God and standing next to Him on equal footing. This was an authentic interpretation of the time period. This is not merely a figure; it is an identification of the Messiah as God. This Messianic understanding is taken from a vision of the Prophet Daniel:

While this is not the exclusive interpretation of who the Messiah would be, this divine figure, on the same level as the Ancient of Days, informed much of First-Century Judaism as to who they ought to expect. I bring this up because this is the precise identity that Christ assumes for Himself, as it was expressed to the Sanhedrin at His trial. All three Synoptic Gospels record this in substance:

This is a divine claim, as evidenced by the fact that the Sanhedrin no longer tries to find any evidence against him. They are satisfied that the condemnation for blasphemy can be passed—He deserves death.5 By the fact that Christ openly equates Himself with the Son of Man, seated at the right hand of Power, i.e., the Ancient of Days, the Sanhedrin take Him as claiming divinity, i.e., that He made Himself the Son of God.6

The Epiphany Miracles

The public affirmation of Christ’s Divine Identity is one thing. But are there instances before Holy Week that show the cognizant belief of Christ and those around Him that He is divine? It is here that we encounter what are called the Epiphany Miracles. The Epiphany Miracles are wonders done by Christ to reveal Himself to the Apostles; in particular, they are revelatory miracles that show that He is divine. These are not simply healings or multiplications of food; as great as those miracles are, they are essentially divine acts that point to the true identity of Jesus as the Son of Man, coming on the clouds.

I will address three of these miracles: the Stilling of the Sea, the Walking on Water, and the Transfiguration. Each of them is found in multiple Gospels, and at least two Synoptic Gospels. And each of them is characterized by three qualities:

a. A distinctly divine action being done

b. The Apostles responding with Fear/Awe

c. The question of Jesus’ Identity

With each of these miracles, I will cite Old Testament passages that clarify the divine identity being revealed. Again, the understanding of the Second-Temple Judaic mindset is key. This is the context in which these Gospels were written. If we lose that premise, we lose the substance of the Gospel narratives and the motivations behind them.

St. Thomas’ doctrine on miracles is helpful here, as he teaches that “true miracles cannot be wrought save by divine power: because God alone can change the order of nature.”7 Miracles, as such, are proofs of the working of God in a particular person, even more in Christ, who is God Incarnate.8 St. Thomas gives three reasons as to why the miracles that are performed by Christ show forth His Godhead:

First, as to the very nature of the works, which surpassed the entire capability of created power, and therefore could not be done save by Divine power… Secondly, as to the way in which He worked miracles—namely, because He worked miracles as though of His own power, and not by praying, as others do… Thirdly, from the very fact that He taught that He was God; for unless this were true, it would not be confirmed by the miracles worked by Divine power.9

The Epiphany Miracles, more than any other, are going to show forth these three reasons, as well as the aforementioned changing of the order of nature. These three miracles that will be dealt with have a distinctly divine claim attached to them, as we will see as we get into them. They are clear instances that inspire in the Apostles a reaction to the Divine.

The Stilling of the Sea

This is found in all three synoptic Gospels, and the details are very similar.

a. Jesus is asleep (human nature)

b. There is a sudden storm

c. Apostles are afraid

d. Jesus wakes and immediately calms it

e. He rebukes them for their lack of faith

f. They question His identity

The calming of the storm is a distinctly divine action, evidenced by the Old Testament as an action that only God can do:

Here, Christ is showing both His human and divine natures. In the first place, Christ is asleep in the boat while the Apostles are fearing for their lives. Then, the Lord arises, rebukes the storm, and everything immediately becomes calm. This is an action that only God can do, according to the Jewish faith, as evidenced by the Scripture passages quoted above. More than that, St. Thomas speaks of the miracles in the lower creatures, “Now it belongs to the Divine Power that every creature be subject thereto… Christ also worked miracles befitting to Himself in the air and water…”11 God alone has control over the forces of nature, and so He can command their peace at a moment’s notice.

This causes the Apostles to react with Awe/Fear of the Lord and then question who this man is. This also gives evidence to the divine claim. The Synoptic record shows that the Apostles were struck with fear and marveled at this great sign. This is a reaction that presupposes the Jewish understanding of Scripture and Divine power. Again, only God can do what the Apostles just saw Jesus of Nazareth do. This causes them to question what sort of man this is. Brant Pitre speaks to this, “In Jewish Scripture, such fear is a standard human response to a theophany to figures such as Adam, Abraham, Jacob, Moses, Isaiah, and Daniel.”12 Again, we have to read the Gospels in the context of Judaism, that is to say, the men experiencing these miracles are formed through the lived Jewish experience, and so they are going to respond according to that reality. Thus, the question of Jesus’ identity is an important one because the Apostles know that no ordinary man could calm the storm through their knowledge of the Psalms; only God can. They are awed that this may be the divine messiah before them.

Subscribe now

The Walking on Water

There are two immensely important aspects to this miracle. The first is the actual walking on water, which Scripture says only God can do: “[God] alone stretched out the sky and walks on the sea as on dry ground…”14 The apostles clearly see Him walking on water, and they are afraid since it is not something a normal human can do. Both St. Matthew and St. John make mention of the great distance that the boat is out on the water, very late at night. This removes the ability for this to be merely walking on the seashore or on a sandbar, etc. The Evangelists emphasize the miraculous act of walking on the water’s surface. To add to the miraculousness of the event, St. Matthew records Peter being called out to walk on the waves as well.15 Peter, moved by his faith, steps out onto the sea and, momentarily, walks along the surface of waves until he loses that faith and begins to sink. Not only is Christ’s divine identity revealed here through this miracle, but it is also strengthened by the fact that He allows Peter to do something that transcends the laws of nature.

The second, and more important, is Christ’s revelation. He says to them:

Take heart, I AM (ego eimi): do not be afraid.

All three Gospels record the same phrase spoken by Christ. There are two parts to what He says:

1. Do not be afraid

This is Christ comforting the Apostles. The Apostles are experiencing a phenomenon that they have never seen before. They are struck with Fear of the Lord, and so the Lord reassures them of who He is, which leads to the second.

2. The self-revelation of I AM--- the name of God.

In the Greek of the Gospels, all three accounts record the same phrase: ego eimi. He says to them I AM with no predicate. Again, the Jewish context is important here. The name I AM is the name of God given to Moses at Sinai, “Then Moses said to God, ‘If I come to the sons of Israel and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” God said to Moses, “I am who I am.”16 This is not the only time Our Lord uses this Name. One of the more extreme uses occurs in John:

In the Thomistic sense, I AM is expressed in the phrase Ipsum Esse Subsistens—Being Itself. God does not have being in the sense that He does not receive His being from another, the way that created things do. Instead, He is Being Itself, uncreated, immutable, simple: Being. He alone is I AM. For Jesus Christ to take the name I AM, He is revealing a clear truth about Himself: He considers Himself to be God. And it is important to recognize that the Apostles interpreted Him to say just that, and this is seen in their response to Him. St. Matthew puts it simply and powerfully:

This act of worship by the Apostles indicates their experience of both the miracle, which is one only God can do, and Christ’s taking of the Divine Name, I AM. The Apostles must have regarded the Lord as Divine, or they would not have fallen down to worship Him, as that would have been a violation of the 1st Commandment. Clearly, they viewed Him as equal to God from this experience.

The Confession of Peter and the Transfiguration

Finally, we turn to the Transfiguration, a miracle that displays the Divine Nature of Christ in all of His glory. Again, like the previous two miracles, there is a succession of events that takes place that affirm the revelation of the Divine Nature:

1. Jesus takes His inner circle of three to the top of a mountain

2. He is transfigured before them

3. Peter offers to build booths or tents for Christ, Moses, and Elijah

4. The Apostles are struck with fear

5. There is a revelation of identity

The Old Testament foreshadowing is strong in this passage. Christ acts as a New Moses, taking three companions to the top of a mountain, on the seventh day, encountering God, and having their countenance transformed.18 The difference, of course, is that Moses and His companions encounter the Living God before them, while, in this case, the New Moses is the living God.

Our Lord is transfigured before the eyes of the Apostles, and the glory of the Only-Begotten Son is revealed to these men. Along with the Lord, we find Moses and Elijah standing next to Him and conversing with Him. Moses represents the Law and Elijah represents the prophets; Christ, in dialogue with them, shows that He is the perfection of both.19 In response to this great revelation, St. Peter offers to build three booths or tents for Christ and His precursors.

To understand the significance of this, we have to return to the understanding of the Jewish ethos that surrounded the Apostles. According to St. Matthew, the Transfiguration happened on the seventh day. This is a temporal checkpoint reference in the Jewish Feasts that the Transfiguration, and right before it, the Confession of St. Peter, happen in conjunction with. Six days prior to the Transfiguration, Christ asks His Apostles who they say that He is. Under the inspiration of God, St. Peter utters his confession of faith:

It is in response to this confession that Christ gives to Peter the Keys and the Office of the Papacy.20 It is precisely the Jewish connections that shed light on all of this.

The Confession of Peter and the Transfiguration happen over two Jewish feast days: The Feast of Atonement, Yom Kippur, and the Feast of Tabernacles, Sukkoth. This is theologically significant as Pope Benedict XVI writes:

This would mean that Peter’s confession fell on the Great Day of Atonement and should be interpreted theologically against the backdrop of this feast, on which, for the one time in the year, the high priest solemnly pronounced the name YHWH in the Temple’s Holy of Holies.21

This connection cannot be overstated. At the confession of Peter, the Prince of the Apostles takes the position of High Priest and solemnly pronounces the name of Jesus of Nazareth: You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God! He is affirming a two-fold truth here. Not only is Jesus of Nazareth the long-awaited Messiah, but He is also the Son of God; that is, Peter is affirming the Divine Identity of Jesus Christ. We have to look at the entire context of this event. Our Lord does nothing by accident. The Feast of Atonement is not coincidentally and tangentially connected here. It is intentional. Our Lord asks His Twelve the essential question of His identity, and it is under divine inspiration, “For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven,”22 that Peter, over and above the other eleven, answers as the High Priest.

Likewise, there is an intentionality that Our Lord, seven days later, takes His three priestly followers with Him to the Mount of the Transfiguration over the Feast of Tabernacles. It is this feast that punctuates the assertion of Peter to build three tabernacles or dwelling places, for the three wonderful figures before them. This feast is a Jewish memorial of the dwelling of God with the people during the desert wanderings, but also a future anticipation of the Messianic age. Pope Benedict writes, quoting Jean Danielou:

By experiencing the Transfiguration during the Feast of Tabernacles, Peter, in his ecstasy, was able to recognize “that the realities prefigured by the Feast were accomplished… The scene of the Transfiguration marks the fact that messianic times have come.23

The Godhead overflows in the soul of Christ, and then over to the body, transfiguring it and showing forth the glory of God in the flesh. This is a visible affirmation of the truth that Peter had confessed just a week prior. It is a revelatory confirmation of the Divine Identity of Christ situated in the midst of two Jewish Feasts which recognize the Divine Identity of YHWH. Brant Pitre speaks to this very well:

If this assessment is correct, then the Synoptic accounts of the transfiguration suggest that Jesus is not merely a human being, he is also a heavenly being—one who temporarily lifts the visible appearance of his humanity to give his disciples a glimpse of his heavenly glory.24

Share

Conclusion

Dr. Pitre concludes his analysis of the Transfiguration by addressing the phenomenon of the dense cloud that descends along with the auditory voice of God being heard. He connects this to the apocalyptic secret of Jesus’ Divinity. I find it to be an important way to end my own article on these events. At the Transfiguration, just at Mt. Sinai, we find the same cloud and voice. Pitre writes:

For the Jewish Scripture, the way God visibly and audibly manifests himself to the Israelites during their time at Mount Sinai is by descending from heaven under the appearance of a “dense cloud” and speaking to Moses and the Israelites from the cloud.25

I agree with Dr. Pitre that this cloud both reveals and conceals the divine presence and that this theophany reveals that Jesus Christ is the heavenly Son of God.26 The transfiguration lies as a threshold experience, falling just months before the events of Holy Week. The transfiguration is a revelation of preparation for what is to come through the cross. The purpose of these Epiphany Miracles is to reveal to the Apostles alone what Christ would explicitly reveal during Holy Week to the rest of the people. This truth is continuously affirmed by all four canonical Gospels.

Jesus of Nazareth is God Incarnate.

Leave a comment

For more from Dr. McGovern, visit his Substack at A Thomist, Dedicated to the Theological tradition of St. Thomas Aquinas. Exploring Thomas’ Spiritual Theology and topics in Christology and Mariology.

It begins with a scattering.

The persecution that rose up after Stephen’s death drove the disciples out of Jerusalem - to Phoenicia, Cyprus, Antioch, further than they might otherwise have gone, further than the original mission seemed to require. Luke notes this almost in passing, as though it were an administrative detail: “those who had been scattered by the persecution that arose because of Stephen.” But it is not incidental. The violence that killed Stephen became the wind that carried the Gospel to people it had not yet reached.

Some of the scattered disciples, Cypriots and Cyrenians among them, arrived in Antioch and did something that had not been done before: they spoke of the faith to Greeks. Not to Jews of the diaspora, not to God-fearers at the edge of the synagogue, but to Greeks - Gentiles, outsiders, people with no framework for the covenant and no preparation for the Messiah. “The hand of the Lord was with them,” Luke says, “and a great number who believed turned to the Lord.”

The news reached Jerusalem. The church sent Barnabas to see what was happening.

We met Barnabas two weeks ago in this series - the son of encouragement, the man who sold a field and laid the money at the apostles’ feet. He arrives in Antioch as an investigator of sorts, an emissary from the mother church sent to evaluate a situation that has moved faster than anyone anticipated. What he finds is grace. And his response is not to audit it or to send a cautious report back to Jerusalem. “When he arrived and saw the grace of God, he rejoiced.”

This is the instinct of a man formed by the resurrection. He sees something of God and his first movement is joy. Not suspicion, not procedural caution, not the careful hedging of someone protecting institutional interests. Joy. And from that joy, encouragement: he urged them all to remain faithful to the Lord with firmness of heart.

Then he does the most consequential thing he could have done. He goes to Tarsus to find Saul.

The man who stood at Stephen’s stoning giving his wholehearted approval - suneudokōn, pleased by it - has by this point been converted, commissioned, and sent back to his home city of Tarsus, where he has been for some years in a kind of obscurity. Barnabas goes to find him and brings him to Antioch. For a whole year, the two of them teach together in the community that Stephen’s death helped scatter into being.

The loop closes so quietly that it is easy to miss. The son of encouragement retrieves the man who approved the killing of the first martyr and places him at the heart of the community the martyr’s death created. This is what grace looks like when it has been working for a while.

And then the name.

“It was in Antioch that the disciples were first called Christians.”

The Greek Christianous was almost certainly coined by outsiders - a label applied to this community by the people around them, possibly with mockery, in the way that “Methodist” would be coined mockingly centuries later, or the way any new and distinctive movement attracts a nickname from those watching. But it stuck. And it stuck because something visible was happening. These people were different enough from their surrounding culture that they needed a new word. The name followed the reality.

Jesus, in John’s Gospel, is standing in the Portico of Solomon at the Feast of Dedication - winter, the temple colonnade, the crowd pressing in - and they ask him the question they have been circling for some time: “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” He tells them what he has already told them: the works testify. But you do not believe, because you are not among my sheep. “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me.”

The Antioch community had heard the voice. They had followed. And the people outside them could see something - something distinct enough, something joy-shaped and generous and stubbornly committed - that a new name was required. They did not name themselves. They were named because of what was visible.

This is the domestic question the readings press this week. Not “are you a Christian?” in the sense of formal membership, but “is there something visible?” Would the people outside your household - your neighbors, your colleagues, the extended family who does not share the faith - need a new word for what they see in you? Not a performed religiosity, not a conspicuous piety, but the thing that made people in Antioch reach for a name: a joy at encountering grace, a firmness of heart, a willingness to encourage, an instinct to go find the difficult person and bring them in.

Barnabas did not wait for Saul to find his way back. He went to Tarsus. He looked for him. He brought him home to the community where his gifts would be used and his story would be redeemed. The domestic church does this too - it is often a single relationship, a single person willing to make the trip, that brings someone from the edges into the life of faith. Not a program. A Barnabas.

The sheep hear the voice and follow. The following, over time, becomes visible. The visibility, over time, acquires a name.

What name would the people outside your door give to what they see?

Domus Formation has built the & Altar app to bring daily Catholic prayer and formation into the rhythms of the household — with tracks for families, men, women, teens, and those in the second half of life. Because the first school of faith is the home, and every member of it deserves to be formed.

If the idea of a long story passed forward across centuries - of custody and fidelity and a flame that refuses to go out - resonates with you, I am writing it. Lux Perpetua is a serial novel publishing weekly: a free Monday chapter and a paid Thursday chapter, set in Alton, Illinois, at the edge of the Mississippi. The first chapters are live. Free readers are welcome. LuxPerpetua.net

Deacon Michael Halbrook is husband to Suzanne, father of four sons, and a permanent deacon of the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois. He serves at St. Elizabeth Parish in Granite City. He is the founder of Domus Formation, a collection of Catholic prayer and formation resources for every stage of life, and he writes at DeaconMichael.net.

Jesus said:
“I am the good shepherd.
A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.
A hired man, who is not a shepherd
and whose sheep are not his own,
sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away,
and the wolf catches and scatters them.
This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep.
I am the good shepherd,
and I know mine and mine know me,
just as the Father knows me and I know the Father;
and I will lay down my life for the sheep.
I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.
These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice,
and there will be one flock, one shepherd.
This is why the Father loves me,
because I lay down my life in order to take it up again.
No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own.
I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again.
This command I have received from my Father.”
— John 10:11-18

In today’s Gospel Jesus makes it very clear what kind of leader He is: “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” That is the opposite of a hireling, someone who may manage sheep for pay, but who won’t stay when it costs him something.

Jesus’ point isn’t only that He will dies for you; it’s that He loves you because you’re His, in a way that actually endures risk and inconvenience for your wellbeing. Christ’s model of leadership is completely revolutionary, even today: how many leaders are truly ready to sacrifice themselves for the sake of those who follow them?

Donate Today!

This passage presents us with a good opportunity to ask ourselves whether or not we are following Christ’s voice and example: are we running when it gets inconvenient, or looking for the “safe” path that avoids sacrifice? Are we listening to His voice and letting Him guide us or are we acting stubbornly and pridefully?

If you find that you are not acting like you should, try this week to listen more closely to His voice, by seeking silence, by spending time with Christ in adoration, and by praying and asking for Him to illuminate you.

May we all learn to listen to the good shepherd, to Christ Our Lord, so we can follow Him more faithfully and join Him in eternity.

In Christ,

Juan — Simple Man

Subscribe now

Thank you for reading, and God bless you!

If you liked this reflection and would like to read weekly articles on faith and masculinity, check out my blog and subscribe here:

Ad Aeternum

An independent Catholic media company dedicated to promoting masculinity, virtue and Christian morality in the modern world.

By Simple Man

1 Amen, amen I say to you: He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up another way, the same is a thief and a robber.

2 But he that entereth in by the door is the shepherd of the sheep.

3 To him the porter openeth; and the sheep hear his voice: and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out.

4 And when he hath let out his own sheep, he goeth before them: and the sheep follow him, because they know his voice.

5 But a stranger they follow not, but fly from him, because they know not the voice of strangers.

6 This proverb Jesus spoke to them. But they understood not what he spoke to them.

7 Jesus therefore said to them again: Amen, amen I say to you, I am the door of the sheep.

8 All others, as many as have come, are thieves and robbers: and the sheep heard them not.

9 I am the door. By me, if any man enter in, he shall be saved: and he shall go in, and go out, and shall find pastures.

10 The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I am come that they may have life, and may have it more abundantly.

(John 10:1-10 DRA)

St. Alphonsus Liguori once wrote,

The wolves that catch and scatter the sheep of Jesus Christ are the authors of scandal, who, not content with their own destruction, labour to destroy others. Be careful, then, never again to give the smallest scandal. And if you wish to save your soul, avoid as much as possible those who give scandal.

In our Gospel reading for this fourth Sunday of Easter, Our Lord uses one of His most famous parables, that of the shepherd and the sheepfold, to teach us an important lesson, one which is perhaps more relevant in our age of casual conversations reaching immediately to audiences of millions all around the world: scandal is a grave sin.

In all His verbal duels against the Pharisees, Sadducees and other Jewish sects of the time, Christ rarely if ever corrected their actual teachings on faith and morals. Indeed, He even said, “All things therefore whatsoever they shall say to you, observe and do: but according to their works do ye not; for they say, and do not.” (Mt 23:3) Instead, He shows that it is precisely their other acts, what we as Catholics today would call their non-infallible magisterial acts, their sayings as private theologians and their lived examples, that were causing scandal.

In Our Lord’s proverbial symbolism, which He interprets for us in the second part of this reading, He explains that those who steal souls are the ‘thieves and robbers’ who came before Him, i.e. who teach apart from the Gospel and His divine authority, whether before His Incarnation or after. By this time in the history of the Jewish people, the Pharisees had usurped for themselves the authority to judge sins and to teach authoritatively, roles once belonging exclusively to the Levitical priests or to those given special priestly authority, such as the Davidic kings (priests in the order of Melchizedek) and the prophets.

Now, instead of teaching the truth of God clearly and unequivocally and living it out faithfully in their lives, the Pharisees ignore Christ’s fulfillment of prophecy, prioritize ritual cleanliness over moral virtue and prefer the sacrifices of the Temple above works of mercy and charity - all of which contradicts the spirit of the Law as elucidated by the prophets. Similarly, the Sadducees compromised politically with Rome and even rejected all the books of Scripture besides the Pentateuch.

The Pharisees and Sadducees are represented by the thieves and robbers mentioned by Our Lord. Like thieves, the Pharisees stole souls from Christ by attempting to hinder His mission and lead people away from Him. Like robbers, the Sadducees lay in wait and sprang their spiritual banditry, trapping the people through sophistry as they attempted to do to Christ (unsuccessfully).

Sadly, the legacy of the Pharisees and Sadducees as thieves and robbers of souls did not end with them. The Church has been afflicted with such false shepherds for two millennia to varying extents. This is perhaps truer today than ever before, not as though all bishops, priests, theologians and other teachers of the faithful are corrupt – which they are not – but because, for most of history, little of what these people said or did was known by most Catholics throughout the world. Besides the identity and the major documents of popes, very few papal statements, or even the canons of councils, would have trickled down to the laity or even to all priests. For most Catholics, their primary contact with the Church was through their local parish and their traditional devotions.

But today, practically all Catholics are literate, and most have access to the monuments of Tradition and the sources of theology, both historic and current, to a degree unimaginable by people in history. This is good, because it gives Catholics the opportunity to grow in their faith through study of the Fathers, Doctors and Magisterium of the Church, but it also makes less authoritative statements from popes and bishops immediately accessible to all Catholics, even airplane interviews or other off-the-cuff, casual conversations. We have seen especially in the last 15 years how scandalous these ambiguous comments can be to the faithful.

The goal today, especially for Catholic parents, religious education teachers, catechists and those who teach the Faith online or elsewhere, should be to help Catholics drink deeply from the sources of the Faith and to thus lay the foundation by which they can scrutinize current statements, whether from popular culture, fellow lay Catholics or even the hierarchy of the Church, to compare all things to Tradition and to hold to what is perennial, not fashionable. This is true Catholic orthodoxy, as opposed to the relativism of progressive Catholics who value only what is new and innovative. Although laypeople are not the interpreters of Tradition, we are responsible for our own faith and the faith of those we influence, and these should be based on the clear truth of Tradition, not opinion, following St. Paul’s guideline, “But prove all things; hold fast that which is good.” (1 Thess 5:21)

In this modern world of instant worldwide communication and widespread lack of solid catechesis, Catholics, most of all those with public influence, should be more careful than ever before to not cause scandal. As St. Alphonsus warned, scandal is a truly grave sin, which is why Christ so often mentions it in the Gospels and why in our reading today He characterizes these scandalizers as thieves and robbers of souls. Not only the explicit, obvious meaning of our written statements are important – we should also be careful of the implications of what we say and do, which are just as liable to cause scandal.

May we enter through the Gate legitimately, let in by the porters whom Christ has given a share in His authority, wisdom and sanctity, so that we may hear and respond to the unique voice of our Good Shepherd.

Join the Fellowship at Saint Tolkien!

According to early Christian accounts, St. Mark was close friends with St. Peter and served as his interpreter. In writing his Gospel, St. Mark was not himself an eyewitness of the events he described, and he thus likely based his Gospel on the accounts shared by St. Peter. St. Mark’s Gospel is the most concise of the four Gospels, rapidly recounting one event immediately after another without extraneous detail, which is believed to be due to the likely fact that he was recording St. Peter’s memories. Of course, this does not detract from the fact that St. Mark is the rightful human author of his Gospel and that he wrote under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. Rather, it adds a deeper level of credibility to his Gospel, since he was not himself an eyewitness, and gives us a glimpse into the memories of St. Peter, the head of the Apostles.

Subscribe now

Today’s Gospel, which is from the Gospel of St. Mark, recounts how Jesus sent the eleven faithful Apostles out into the world to spread the Gospel after His Resurrection. In St. Mark’s account, Christ ascended into Heaven immediately after sending the Apostles out into the whole world to proclaim the Gospel to all men. This points to the reality that Christ’s Ascension fulfilled what He had accomplished through His Passion, Death, and Resurrection. In His Ascension, Our Lord prepared the way by going before us to Heaven, where He intercedes for us to the Father and pours forth spiritual gifts upon us. It is our role to accept these graces and remain faithful to Him so that we might join Him in the place He has prepared for us.

For this reason, as Our Lord tells the Apostles and us in today’s Gospel, we must proclaim the Gospel to every creature, for “whoever does not believe will be condemned “ (Mk 16:15). St. Mark gave his life as a witness of this faith, receiving martyrdom in Alexandria by being dragged through the streets (Catholic Online). May he intercede for the Church and for each one of her members, that we may courageously proclaim the Gospel through both our words and actions, with the goal of not only attaining our own salvation but also helping those around us reach salvation in fulfillment of Christ’s command.

Subscribe now

First, it can be helpful to call to mind the events of Matthew 12, when Jesus tells the Pharisees that “something greater than the temple is here” after they were questioning His disciples plucking grain on the sabbath. For Jews, the temple was by far the most important place, as it was where God Himself dwelt. That being said, for Jesus to claim to be greater than the temple in this instance was a rather bold statement; the only one who can claim to be greater than such a holy place would be the One who dwells in that very place. In today’s Gospel, Jesus does the same sort of thing when He Himself takes authority over the Jewish law; the Jews know they aren’t supposed to consume flesh and blood, yet Christ tells them to consume His, and He says that they won’t have life unless they do so. For Jesus to claim that He can give life to the people through the consumption of His Body and Blood shows that He is asserting authority over the rules the Jews had lived by within Scripture. The only one who can have definitive authority over the Scriptures inspired by God is the One who inspired them: God. He is thus showing Himself as the divine lifegiver.

Next - Jesus had the chance to calm down the concerns of the Jews if He had to. They were wondering how He could ask them to eat flesh and drink blood; instead of reassuring them that He was only speaking symbolically or in a metaphor, He does the opposite - He presses His command even more. He says “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the Flesh of the Son of Man and drink his Blood, you do not have life within you.” He intensifies His statement by saying they won’t have life within them. He says “Amen, amen” to make sure they know to pay close attention. Anything spoken by Our Lord throughout the Gospels is important, but when he says “amen” twice, He is especially asking us to pay even closer attention to what He speaks. He doesn’t diminish his statement; He intensifies it to show its truth.

He goes so far as to say “I will raise them up on the last day” regarding those who obey Him (John 6:54). Think about it - whenever we say “I will” about something we are to do, we often speak of something we are hoping will happen. When Christ is speaking here, He is speaking of what He hopes will happen: He hopes we will listen to His command so that we can live with Him forever. Again, He outlines this so clearly because He deeply wants eternal communion with us; He wants us to know the way to get there. We are created from God; we are designed to live in community with Him.

He emphasizes that His Body is true food and that His Blood is true drink (John 6:55). What do food and drink do, if not nourish our bodies and give us the sustenance we need to keep living? Jesus here is telling us that consuming Him will literally nourish our bodies and give us the sustenance we need to keep living. In verse 56, we read that when we do receive Him in this way, He will abide in each of us and each of us will abide in Him. He is proclaiming again here that He Himself is who gives us life, saying that “whoever eats me will live because of me” (John 6:57). Again, after the concern of the Jews, Jesus had the chance to calm their concerns, but he instead responds by literally telling them to eat him.

In verse 58, Jesus says to the Jews that the bread that is His Body is not like the bread their ancestors who died ate. When we eat His Body, we will live. He says this all while teaching in the synagogue (John 6:59). He is saying that His Body is not like the manna that the Israelites were given in the desert. It is much more than that, like the fulfillment of the original purpose of the manna; this bread will provide true and lasting life. Again, He is asserting authority over the Scriptures, and He is doing so in their synagogue. This was a huge deal for them to be hearing in their community. That is why they were so unsettled.

The Eucharist, the Body and Blood of Jesus, is the source and summit of our faith; it is the soul and life of the Church. As Catholics, we honor what Jesus says today. We don’t downplay His statements simply because Jesus Himself didn’t downplay them. He emphasized them even more, so we do as well. That is why we go to Mass every week to receive His Body and Blood.

Leave a comment

For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.

1 Corinthians 13:12

I’m not entirely sure why I am perpetually fascinated by this subject, but it has to do with the phenomenon of error. When I was a small child, I had learning disabilities, and it caused me to have great difficulty spelling, reading, and spatially working out tasks. Having sisters who did not have the same difficulty, I, at an early age began internalizing my own failures as a sign I simply wasn’t trying hard enough.

When I was working on my Master’s in Systematic Philosophy, I was suggested a book by a Thomist by the name of Herman Reith, who explained that this approach to error was the same as Descartes. The technical way to describe his point was that Descartes had reduced all objects of knowledge to simple essences, which implied that if one makes an error it was automatically a moral failure due to a lack of effort on the person thinking. When I read that, I couldn’t help but feel frustrated with such an intellectual prideful disposition. Herman Reith continued in his “Introduction to Philosophical Psychology” that Aquinas admitted that error in humanity would also be caused, innocently due to man’s complexity, and the real complexity of things in themselves.

There is a lot to nuance here, but I suppose the point ultimately was that we as human beings can err for a few reasons - and for that reason I’d like to make this post to go deeper into this matter of error.

Dialectical Errors

The Church often develops its developed doctrine from first principles revealed in both Natural Revelation, and Divine Revelation. As a result of these first principles, we then discover a series of conclusions that result. For instance, in human law we ensure safety on the roads with various laws, speed-limits, and enforcement in order to serve a 1st principle of reason: the right to life, and the protection thereof. However, if a Tornado would be behind you as you were driving, using the speed-limit would likely not be prudent, and the law would itself reflect that in such extenuating circumstances. In this sense, things are “complex” when it comes to doctrine. For instance, can a person be saved if they are not Confirmed? According to St. Thomas Aquinas, yes, if the person has not rejected the Sacrament of Confirmation out of malice. Vatican II develops various doctrines regarding the Dogmatic view that there is “no salvation outside of the Church” for instance, while nonetheless maintaining that notion, while not falling into Feeneyism. These types of error I would consider “dialectical errors” where our own reasoning fails to incorporate nuance, where it applies as such. In this way, we often see fundamentalists over-simplifying matters to avoid the rigorous work of the theologian, or the lawless who likewise over-complicates things through ambiguity and equivocation in order to “liberate” their conscience from the confines of truth. Nonetheless, it is also possible, at least to the non-Cartesian thinker that innocent errors can be made. For this reason, as Catholics, we submit our intellect and will to the Holy Spirit through the Pillar of Truth.

Interpersonal Error

The heart is devious above all else;
it is perverse—
who can understand it?

Jeremiah 17:9

A wounded heart cannot see things clearly when it remains unhealed or unpurified by charity. We have defensive mechanisms that cause us to act in ways that we are not even conscious of, when we lack self-awareness. The patterns that develop in our thinking in early childhood often get bent, contorted, and twist the mirror we look through, so that light only dimly reflects back to our perception. The Church has, for a long time, admitted that we are not rationalists, capable of having some pure and perfect knowledge about ourselves, about God, and about one another. This doesn’t dismiss the possibility of certain knowledge about some matters, such as the existence of God, or simple substances. That is often a paradox or contradiction to many, and it requires, as most things, much nuance to explain (metaphysical sciences, etc). Nonetheless, knowledge is not cast into a myopic categorization of “either you can know everything or nothing at all.” Such rationalism in Descartes, and doubt in Hume need a middle position, which is the moderate realism of the Thomistic position. Yet, when we examine that those who enter into theology themselves are persons with a heart affected by relationships, we must admit that there is a further layer to explore here.

Error arises innocently/culpably when a person has developed various coping mechanisms that naturally arise from living in a fallen world. Perhaps trauma makes it difficult for a person to confide in a priest at the confessional, and this underlies various rationales about “confessing directly to God.” Perhaps abuse prevents a person from seeing the opposite sex in the way God intended them, and generalizations, fears, and various experiences lead to automatic interpretation of other’s behaviors. While the mind may be able to examine the Church’s teaching separately in that dialectical sense, it does not mean that the heart will not influence the person’s thinking in some sense. Further, just because one may be able to surrender to the Church’s teaching, this does not necessarily mean the person is free to follow their conscience. The heart still needs to be freed from those lies.

A Socially Warped Mirror

Do not be deceived:

“Bad company ruins good morals.”

1 Corinthians 15:33

We live in an increasingly secular world, in which the narrative, which is consumed in both social media, news, and forms of entertainment provide an objectively twisted notion of the Church’s teaching. The narrative of many in the LGBTQ+ community, for instance, insist that calling homosexuality a “disorder” as noted in the Catechism of the Catholic Church implies that we deny their existence or are somehow seeing to destroy that person with such violent speech. When discussing the ordination of women, the church is viewed through this cracked mirror of chauvinism. As a result of these false narratives, when the Church practices her own faith, such narratives of artificially injected into her practices, when in all innocence the Church condemns unjust discrimination and chauvinism.

What fuels such a narrative would be the poor witnesses that do exist, when those who have a same-sex attraction are not accompanied, or are bullied, and derogatory explanations are offered as to why women cannot be ordained. Perhaps there are also bad teachers, who present the Church’s teaching in a bad light, validating erroneous positions, or those who teach so poorly that you can intuit their lack of charity. Such interpersonal experiences that inflict wounds only fuel the false narrative about the Church’s teaching and become a stumbling block that may merit a mill stone. Priests who have abused their power, sexually, financially, socially, and so forth, will also contribute to the warped mirror from which we see the Church’s teachings, and more importantly: Christ.

Healing

Although this warped mirror will never be fully restored in this life, healing can contribute toward seeing things more clearly. I would say that in order for our perception, and interpretation to become clearer and healed, we need to begin by admitting of how our perceptions are in the first placed warped. We then need to take responsibility over this state of our heart. Then we need to submit it to Christ for healing. We do not heal by putting a wall around our wounds and keeping the healer out. This is not to say that such a defensive mechanism doesn’t serve us well as a child, or for a time. But eventually we do need to return to the wound with Christ, so that we can see it as Christ sees such a wound.

For those, with anxiety, for instance, many are encouraged to expose themselves to what causes them grief. But as a Christian we do not merely want to renounce the lie that exists within our various coping mechanisms, we want to infuse them with the love and truth of Christ, who patiently, gently, and generously seeks to bring relief and healing to the soul. Christ wants to see our desires addressed in healthy ways, so that we can obtain to the clearest Vision of Himself - where true bliss and ecstasy is discovered. He also wants us to be healed in our relationship with ourselves and others, where we can see others as Christ sees them - but this is often stunted when we are stuck in a wounded and unhealed place.

Conclusion

There is much more that can be said here, but I think it illustrates why God is so patient, and why we must also learn to be patient with one another. None of that means putting up with abuse or disavowing prudent boundaries. But it does mean not immediately demoralizing others for error, but seeing them as caused by a wound that may at its root be due to someone else’s sin, and the effect it has on our own heart and mind. Such errors might be the result of a sinister type, but I might suggest that is often quite rare. Such errors could be the result of one’s own vices, and our own personal sin. But errors can also result from the fact that things are complex, and we need further dialogue to continue to sort them out. In some cases, perhaps more than one thing is happening within man at the same time, making it all the more complex to overcome our errors. But in either case, we as Christians must submit them to Christ, and look for healing so that one day our perception of reality will be purified in such a beautiful way that we can now more readily gaze upon His unveiled face.

Get more from Missio Dei Catholic in the Substack app

Available for iOS and Android

Get the app

In this special episode, we sit down with our in-house theologian, Andrew McGovern, and special guest Alex Spieldenner from Aquinas and Beyond to explore the Catholic dogma of the Immaculate Conception and St. Thomas Aquinas.

We begin with Pope Pius IX’s historic 1854 ex cathedra definition: that Mary was preserved from all stain of original sin from the first moment of her conception by a singular grace and the merits of Jesus Christ. Why does this dogma matter?

Did St. Thomas Aquinas actually deny the Immaculate Conception?

• Deep dive into Summa Theologica III, Question 27 – what Aquinas actually taught

• Mary’s holiness, sanctification in the womb, and grace fitting for the Mother of God

• Medieval understanding of generation, ensoulment, animation, and “quickening.”

• Why Aquinas emphasized that Mary (and everyone) needs Christ the Redeemer

Subscribe now

Blessed John Duns Scoutus’ and the Franciscan Teaching

• Franciscan perspective: Bl. John Duns Scotus and his stronger emphasis on the Primacy of Christ

• Scotus’ famous principle: “God could do it, it was fitting, therefore He did it.”

• Comparison of Christology between Aquinas and Duns Scotus

• Mary as the New Ark of the Covenant (with biblical reference to Uzzah in 2 Samuel 6)

• What are Réginald Marie Garrigou-Lagrange OP’s thoughts on Duns Scotus?

What would Aquinas think about the topic with our knowledge of biology and medicine?

• What was Aquinas’ knowledge of the process of conception?

• Philosophical and biological discussion: zygotes, the union of sperm and egg, and how modern science relates to Aquinas’ thought

• Would St. Thomas Aquinas support first-trimester abortion?

John 6:44-51

44 No man can come to me, except the Father, who hath sent me, draw him; and I will raise him up in the last day. 45 It is written in the prophets: And they shall all be taught of God. Every one that hath heard of the Father, and hath learned, cometh to me.

46 Not that any man hath seen the Father; but he who is of God, he hath seen the Father. 47 Amen, amen I say unto you: He that believeth in me, hath everlasting life. 48 I am the bread of life. 49 Your fathers did eat manna in the desert, and are dead. 50 This is the bread which cometh down from heaven; that if any man eat of it, he may not die.

51 I am the living bread which came down from heaven. 52 If any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever; and the bread that I will give, is my flesh, for the life of the world.

The Douay Rheims explains:

[44] “Draw him”: Not by compulsion, nor by laying the free will under any necessity, but by the strong and sweet motions of his heavenly grace.

Over the last few hundred years, a relatively brief period in the history of Christianity, countless Protestants have cited the beginning of today’s Gospel to justify that they felt drawn, or “called” by God to become ministers. Many have formed their own churches. To date, there are estimated to be somewhere around 50,000 Protestant denominations. Each of these denominations contain ministers, writers and teachers who disagree with each other over matters of doctrine, theology and morals. That, is how new Protestant denominations are formed, through schism. Each founder of a new Protestant church feels drawn, led, called to state that his understanding of the Bible is the only valid one, or that the current leaders of his denomination have lost their way, and that he must form a new church to preach the truth to the world. Each Protestant who does so claims the “Bible alone” as his soul authority... even though the Bible clearly states that Jesus gave the fullness of the truth to His Apostles, authorized them to teach in His name and form one Church, that there would be no new revelation and forbids schism.

Each of these Protestant denominations disagree with each other. But, there are three things on which they do agree. 1) Protestantism right and the Catholic Church is wrong. 2) Anyone can read the Bible and understand everything in it exactly as intended by God. 3) Jesus couldn’t have truly meant that He would give us His flesh through the Eucharist as stated in today’s Gospel. Let’s see what the Bible has to say about that in today’s first reading, Acts 8:26-40:

26 Now an angel of the Lord spoke to Philip, saying: Arise, go towards the south, to the way that goeth down from Jerusalem into Gaza: this is desert. 27 And rising up, he went. And behold a man of Ethiopia, an eunuch, of great authority under Candace the queen of the Ethiopians, who had charge over all her treasures, had come to Jerusalem to adore. 28 And he was returning, sitting in his chariot, and reading Isaias the prophet. 29 And the Spirit said to Philip: Go near, and join thyself to this chariot. 30 And Philip running thither, heard him reading the prophet Isaias. And he said: Thinkest thou that thou understandest what thou readest?

31 Who said: And how can I, unless some man shew me? And he desired Philip that he would come up and sit with him. 32 And the place of the scripture which he was reading was this: He was led as a sheep to the slaughter; and like a lamb without voice before his shearer, so openeth he not his mouth. 33 In humility his judgment was taken away. His generation who shall declare, for his life shall be taken from the earth? 34 And the eunuch answering Philip, said: I beseech thee, of whom doth the prophet speak this? of himself, or of some other man? 35 Then Philip, opening his mouth, and beginning at this scripture, preached unto him Jesus.

36 And as they went on their way, they came to a certain water; and the eunuch said: See, here is water: what doth hinder me from being baptized? 37 And Philip said: If thou believest with all thy heart, thou mayest. And he answering, said: I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. 38 And he commanded the chariot to stand still; and they went down into the water, both Philip and the eunuch: and he baptized him. 39 And when they were come up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord took away Philip; and the eunuch saw him no more. And he went on his way rejoicing. 40 But Philip was found in Azotus; and passing through, he preached the gospel to all the cities, till he came to Caesarea.

Quite simply, the Bible explains that one must have a teacher, given authority by God, to explain the meaning of the words of the Bible. Further, the Bible forbids individual interpretation (2 Peter 1, 20-21). Given the plain words of the Bible, the tenants of Protestantism are false on their face. Of course, there can only be one truth. And that truth is the same today as it was 2,000 years ago. The Catholic Church, that gave the world the Bible, has always taught that Jesus’ words were true and always will be. Jesus instituted a Church to teach and to give us His Body and Blood through the Eucharist. The Douay Rheims explains:

[37] “If thou believest with all thy heart”: The scripture many times mentions only one disposition, as here belief, when others equally necessary are not expressed, viz., a sorrow for sins, a firm hope, and the love of God. Moreover, believing with the whole heart signifies a belief of every thing necessary for salvation

It is not enough simply to believe in Jesus as Lord. We must also believe in His Word, we must follow His commandments and submit to the Church to which He gave authority. “Pastor Bob” may believe whole heartedly that he has received some new revelation. But, if it disagrees with the teachings of the Catholic Church, it is false. False teaching may come from the mind of man or the inspiration of the devil.... we cannot be sure. But, either way, it must be rejected as heresy.

Judson Carroll is the author of several books, including his newest, A Daily Catholic Devotional, Reflections on the Daily Mass Readings July - December, 2026 It is Available in paperback on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GRGY1D15

A Daily Catholic Devotional, Reflections on the Daily Mass Readings January - June, 2026 It is also available in paperback on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GDK16N45

and

Confirmation, an Autobiography of Faith: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C47Q1JNK

His podcast is The Uncensored Catholic https://www.spreaker.com/show/the-uncensored-catholic

As is customary in the weeks of Easter, we are given the great Bread of Life discourse from the Gospel of John. This discourse contains what I believe to be the most important verses regarding the Eucharist that can be found in all of Scripture.

In today’s Gospel, Our Lord speaks of the Eucharist as the Bread of Life. This is not regarding earthly life, i.e., the sustenance of our normal meal cadence. This is a food that endures to eternal life.1 Christ specifically links the reception of the Holy Eucharist to eternal life and the resurrection at the end of time. It is here that we find a very important distinction that Jesus makes all through the Bread of Life discourse:

There is a difference between normal food and the Eucharist.

Truly, this is the fundamental difference between viewing the Eucharist as symbolic and having the faith to see the true presence of Christ, as St. Thomas says, “The presence of Christ’s true body and blood in this sacrament cannot be detected by sense, nor understanding, but by faith alone, which rests upon Divine authority.”2 We cannot cross that threshold of symbol to true presence without the virtue of faith.

I would argue that reading the Bread of Life discourse eliminates the possibility of a symbolic understanding of the Eucharist, which begins with Our Lord’s distinction found in today’s Gospel. Normal food does not cause eternal life to spring up within the soul of the believer. The food that we consume daily will not cause the resurrection of the body. It is meant only for the daily nutrition that is necessary for our bodies to live on this earth. But Our Lord gives us a different food. It is a food that is given not to fill our bellies, like the multiplication of the loaves was in the beginning of chapter six,3 but to effect the resurrection to eternal life. This is why Our Lord promises eternal life in the midst of this great doctrinal discourse. One follows from the other.

Following this distinction between normal food and the Eucharist, St. Paul speaks in the same way in his First Letter to the Corinthians:

In his instruction to the people of Corinth, St. Paul clearly sets the Eucharist apart from normal food and drink. No one needs to examine themselves when eating normal food. No one needs to worry about whether they are eating normal food in an unworthy manner. These things simply aren’t taken into account, and nor should they be, when one sits down to lunch.

Our Lord and St. Paul are saying the same thing. Our Lord is telling us that we must eat of the Eucharist if we desire eternal life, and St. Paul warns us that taking the Eucharist without discerning the body and in an unworthy manner brings judgment upon oneself. Normal food does not have these two extreme effects:

The ability to give eternal life if received worthily

Or

The ability to bring judgment upon oneself if received unworthily

This is not symbolic language. A symbol cannot do either of these things. A symbol cannot grant eternal life, and a symbol cannot bring judgment upon you. Only something that is efficacious and impacts the soul can do these things. Our Lord is very clear in the Bread of Life discourse as to what He is giving us. He is giving us His flesh and blood as true food and true drink.4 This is what leads St. Thomas to write:

“Some men, accordingly, not paying heed to these things, have contended that Christ’s body and blood are not in this sacrament except as in a sign, a thing to be rejected as heretical, since it is contrary to Christ’s words.”5

Christ has given us the immense gift of Himself in the Eucharist so that when received worthily, this food and drink is efficacious for eternal life. And thus, through reception of the Most Holy Eucharist, He will raise us on the last day.

Subscribe now

Share

Leave a comment

For more from Dr. McGovern, visit his Substack at A Thomist, Dedicated to the Theological tradition of St. Thomas Aquinas. Exploring Thomas’ Spiritual Theology and topics in Christology and Mariology.

Naturally, Pitre’s premise begs the question: Are all so-called claims of divinity made by Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels as veiled as this example? Or does Jesus, in the Gospel of Mark, which the consensus of biblical scholars believes to be the earliest written gospel, make a divine claim on His identity that has a more explicit understanding, as claimed by the author of the gospel and understood by his intended audience?

If the inquirer is seeking how Mark and his audience understood Jesus' identity, then the trial narrative in Mark’s gospel before the High Priest is a good place to begin. The narrative raises the question of the claims about Jesus’ identity in light of how Mark and his audience understand Jesus’ references to Daniel 7:13 and Ps. 110.

E.P. Sanders explains:

When Jesus was tried before the high priest, he was charged: ‘Tell us if you are the Messiah [christos]. The Son of the Blessed’ (Mark 14:61 & parr.) According to Mark he answered ‘yes’, according to Luke he evaded the question, while according to Matthew he said, in effect, ‘no’ (Mark 14:62; Luke 22:67f; Matt. 26:64). Again he immediately referred to the Son of Man.2

Sanders continues by adding that we cannot know Jesus’ understanding of His identity with any certainty because of “little direct evidence; only Mark has ‘yes’ in response to a direct question.”3 It’s important to reiterate within the discipline of biblical exegesis, in light of the point Sanders is making a mistake in his understanding of Jesus’ own thoughts of His identity, the inquirer is specifically looking for who Mark is claiming Jesus to be in His identity. Biblical scholar Michael J. Gorman puts it this way, “One issue for beginning exegetes, especially when reading biblical narratives, is the failure to distinguish between the historical context of the text’s author and audience, on the one hand, and the narrative context of the characters in the story, on the other. It is the former, not the latter, that we mean when we discuss the historical context of a text.”4

It must be said at this point that there is an irony that exists with the last paragraph’s explanation of the proper way to interpret the Bible and Mark’s claims. It’s important to note that when making this argument, skeptics will shift the goal posts from “the gospels do not claim” to “the historical Jesus didn’t claim.”

Psalm 110 & Marcan Priority

The key to understanding how Mark and his audience understand Jesus' identity hinges on Psalm 110. The quotation from Daniel 7:13 refers more to an eschatological understanding of the Messiah's identity, but it’s only one part of that identity according to Mark. The importance of understanding the context of what is being claimed by Mark culminates in the trial before the High Priest in Mark 14:53-65, which shows how both Mark and his audience interpret Jesus’ reference to Ps. 110.

The analysis of Ps. 110 becomes clearer with Marcan priority, particularly regarding how the Gospel of Matthew incorporates the trial narrative for its audience. If Marcan priority holds and serves as the foundation for the Gospel of Matthew, Matthew becomes crucial for understanding Ps. 110 in its Jewish context during the trial narrative.

Biblical scholars generally conclude that Mark’s Gospel was the first to be written for several key reasons, though strong arguments remain for the traditional view that Matthew’s Gospel was the first. The argument for Matthean priority rests largely on the tradition argument, drawing on sources such as Augustine’s Harmony of the Gospels. Matthean priority argues against proponents of Marcan priority, claiming that Mark’s gospel is a shorter version of Matthew’s prose called an epitome. However, some of the reasons given by scholars to support Marcan priority, and by no means exhaustive here, are that the gospel of Mark is a shorter, less detailed gospel containing unique parts and meant to be used as source material. Catholic apologist Jimmy Akin explains a “striking way in which Mark does not look like an epitome of Matthew is the fact that the individual pericopes in Mark don’t tend to be shorter than the parallels in Matthew. Instead, they’re longer. Sometimes much longer.”5

The consensus for Mark’s audience is Gentiles in Rome. Scott Hahan explains that there are several things that tip us off to the fact:

1. Mark regularly explains Jewish customs

2. Translate Aramaic phrases and words

3. Latinizes terminology instead of using Greek

4. The text culminates with a Roman soldier pronouncing Jesus, “the Son of God.” (15:39)6

The dating of the text is often cited by scholars as around 70 A.D., prior to the Roman destruction of the temple. Some scholars place the date earlier, in the 60s A.D. The likely date, operating under the presumption of Marcan priority and pointing to the Acts texts, which never describe the deaths of Peter and Paul, is the early 60s A.D. for the composition of Mark’s gospel.

Subscribe now

Who is the identity of David’s Lord in Mark 12:35-37?

The quotation of Ps. 110 by Jesus during the trial narrative does not exist in a vacuum. It’s important for beginner exegetes to note that all chapter numbers and versions are much later additions to the biblical texts. A correct application of contextual analysis considers the book's full context and what is being claimed in the surrounding passages of the selected passage for biblical interpretation. Two chapters before the trial narrative in the Gospels of Mark and Matthew, Mark has Jesus interpret Ps. 110 by posing a question about David vv. 12:35-37:

³⁵ And as Jesus taught in the temple, he said, “How can the scribes say that the Christ is the son of David? ³⁶ David himself, in the Holy Spirit, declared,

“ ‘The Lord said to my Lord,

“Sit at my right hand,

until I put your enemies under your feet.” ’

³⁷ David himself calls him Lord. So how is he his son?” And the great throng heard him gladly.7

Jesus’ explanation before a great crowd in Mark’s Gospel has puzzled many throughout the years of biblical interpretation. Jesus’ question is left open-ended, which some scholars speculate is evidence of Jesus’ authentic historic interpretation of Ps. 110. David M. Hay explains, “But one essential feature of the pericope makes its historicity highly probable. In the Marcan form, the words attributed to Jesus here raise but do not distinctly answer the question about the applicability of the title “son of David” to the Messiah. It is difficult to imagine any of the evangelists (or any other early Christian) creating such a logion; hence it is most reasonably credited to Jesus himself.”8

The covenant promises to King David in the Old Testament, and reiterated in the prophetic literature, is key to understanding who Jesus is, as he simultaneously claims to be the Messiah and Divine, citing both Daniel and the Psalms. Biblical scholars of the more skeptical persuasion have argued in the past that Jesus rejects the Davidic identity through his question about David’s Lord. The question, though, is a Jewish rhetorical device meant to invite the listener to figure out the answer.9

Brant Pitre explains Jesus’ synagogue teaching narrative on the identity of David’s Lord is, “The third episode in which Jesus uses riddle-like questions and allusions to Jewish Scripture to both reveal and conceal his divinity also happens to be the only passage in the Four Gospels in which Jesus explicitly describes the figure of ‘the messiah” (ho christos).10

An outline of the narrative sequence for Mk. 12: 35-40:

I.               The importance of setting in the Temple in Jerusalem; the proposed question by Jesus. (v. 35)

II.              Jesus’ exegetical interpretation (v. 36)

III.            The unresolved question from Jesus and the crowd reaction (v. 37)

IV.            The condemnation of the scribes (v. 38-40)

There is another point to consider when studying a proposed divine claim made by Jesus in the Synoptics, specifically in reference to Ps. 110 and how the author of Mark intends to use the Psalm. The Hebrew and Greek translations of Ps. 110 differ in language, and the Greek used by Mark is crucial to understanding the context of what Mark is claiming. For example, John Donahue and Daniel J Harrington explain the importance of the Greek for understanding the rhetorical device by Mark, “In the Greek Bible tradition the divine name “Yhwh” is customarily rendered as “Lord” (kyrios), as is the title accorded to the king (kyrios = Hebrew ʾadonaî). So, in the Greek version “the Lord” (God) speaks to “my lord” (the king). But if David wrote the psalm, who then is “my lord” to David?”11

Pitre also notes the importance of the differences between the OG and MT translations of Ps. 110. The difference between the two texts is extremely important. There is good evidence, as explained above, that this is authentic exegesis from Jesus Himself, but it’s important to reiterate what Gorman is claiming here: what is Mark claiming, and how does his audience understand it? Pitre cites Frank Hossfeld and Eric Zenger's work Traditions of the Bible: A Guide to the Bible as It Was at the Start of the Common Era:

“I have borne/begotten you” [Ps 110:3] (as in Ps 2:7); that form is even given in numerous manuscripts. This reading thus proclaims the enthronement as divine begetting or birth from the dawn. This formulation was evidently too mythical for the hand responsible for the [Masoretic] text we now have, and it was altered.”12

The rhetorical question posed by Jesus in Mark’s gospel infers the answer that the audience knows is being claimed by the question itself: “How is the Lord the son of David?” Donahue and Harrington explain further, “In the Markan context, the idea is that neither 'Son of David' nor 'Messiah’ adequately expresses the real identity of Jesus. He is more than David’s son and more than the messiah of Jewish expectations. In fact, Jesus deserves to share the title kyrios with God.”13 Hay suggests it is essential to discuss the nuance between sharing the title kyrios, claiming to be divine, and Jesus' claim that He is YHWH.

Why suggest a nuance is needed? Biblical scholarship stemming from the 19th through the 20th century consensus largely ignored the pericope of Jesus’ question who is David’s Lord (Mk. 12:35-37) because the claim is one greater than man. In the biblical scholarship consensus—maybe we should call it groupthink—such a claim must be a creation of the early church and not from the historical Jesus, Himself. The irony is that Hay points out the question is never answered, and, as Pitre notes, this is because it is reminiscent of the Jewish riddle found in the Israelite Wisdom Literature. The question contextually indicates authenticity from Jesus.

Again, the purpose of this thesis is to establish what Mark is claiming and what his audience is receiving about who Jesus of Nazareth is. Gerd Lüdemann, as Pitre notes, argues that Mark’s development of the question is “…formed by a community…”14 The consensus argument is largely a creation of Lutheran theologian and exegete Rudolph Bultmann. Bultmann and the boys, as I like to call them, especially in light of what Hay and Pitre write, are engaging in an implied admission by silence—they ignore it because Mark claims Jesus is divine.

The debate between long-standing Biblical skeptics comes to a head during a Q&A featuring Bart Ehrman, who stumbles over the question of Jesus’ divinity raised by none other than Catholic Theologian Brant Pitre, challenging Ehrman’s skepticism, pivoting to the trial narrative in Mark 14:53-65. The search for an answer to Mark’s claim on Jesus’ identity rests on the question: why was Jesus crucified?

Brant Pitre delivers a magnificent development of what I presume is an early formulation of his thesis in his book Jesus and Divine Christology. One apparent issue with Pitre’s question in the video, as Hay notes, is that it is not representative of biblical or Christian literature of the period. Ps. 110 is generally only quoted by its first and fourth verses. Pitre’s question is a later-developed understanding of Ps. 110, originating with St. Justin Martyr, who interprets Ps. 110:3 as applying to Jesus’ preexistence. Hay notes, “Christian literature before Justin Martyr presents seven partial or complete quotations of Ps. 110:1…and three quotations of Ps. 110:4.”15

The most problematic point of Brant Pitre’s questioning of Bart Ehrman is noted by Hay, who explains, “One of the most remarkable features of Christian use of Ps. 110 in the NT period is that its third verse is never explicitly cited. From Justin onward, however, it is often appealed to as testimony to Christ’s divinity.”16 Pitre does mention Ps. 110:3 a handful of times in his book; however, he develops his thesis fully away from hinging on that claim alone.

Private vs. Public Revelation of Identity

There is an important distinction Hay overlooks in his thesis on Ps. 110 in Early Christianity. The biblical literature within the Synoptic tradition is representative of the identification of Jesus with the LORD—meaning YHWH. There is a distinction within the Synoptic Gospels between the private revelation of Jesus’ identity to the disciples and its public revelation with Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem, marking the start of what Christians now call Holy Week. Pope Benedict XVI’s detailed analysis of Jesus’ messianic identity reveals something of a pedagogical development within the narrative of the Synoptic Gospels. The understanding of Jesus’ messiahship as claimed in the Synoptic Gospels must be read in the context of what Jesus Himself claimed is meant by the office and anointing. Pope Benedict XVI examines how Peter, in the Gospel of Mark, offers a political understanding of the Messiah that Jesus rejects. Pope Benedict explains:

“Peter’s simple confession of Jesus’ Messiahship as transmitted by Mark is doubtless an accurate record of the historical moment; for, he continues, we are still dealing here with a purely “Jewish” confession that saw Jesus as a political Messiah in accordance with the ideas of the time. Only the Markan account, he argues, is logically consistent, because only a political messianism would explain Peter’s protest against the prophecy of the Passion, a protest that Jesus sharply rejects, as once he rejected Satan’s offer of lordship over the world: “Get behind me, Satan! For you are not on the side of God, but of men” (Mk 8:33). This brusque rebuff, says Grelot, makes sense only if it applies also to the confession that went before, and declares this too to be false.”17

Jesus, within the parameters of his inner circle, takes on the identity of David’s Son, the Davidic King, the one who will fulfill the covenant given to King David:

¹⁵ but my steadfast love will not depart from him, as I took it from Saul, whom I put away from before you. ¹⁶ And your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever.’18

What is interesting about the development of Jesus’ identity that continues throughout the Marcan text? Peter’s confession and Jesus telling him to keep quiet is what biblical scholars refer to as the Messianic Secret. The Jewish Study Bible explains, in the context of Saul's anointing, that “must be kept secret because of the Philistines.”19 Furthermore, the anointing of David is done in secret, out of King Saul's knowledge. Bar-Efrat explains that the context of the passage “in the presence of his brothers, without strangers, to keep the anointing secret.”20 An analysis of First Samuel clearly indicates that, in the contextual understanding of scripture, the secret anointing in ancient Israel represents Jewish patrimony. The development that occurs within the confines of the Messianic Secret is the repudiation of a strictly political messianism within Jesus’ own followers.

Andrew McGovern explains a very important distinction that occurs within the Synoptics: “Many of the divine claims in the Synoptics that happen before Holy Week are meant only for the Apostles, but once we cross the threshold of the Entrance into Jerusalem, these instances get both more pronounced and more public.”21

Returning to the question posed by Jesus in Mk. 12:35, “How can the Scribes say that the Christ is the Son of David?” It is important to reiterate that, in Mark’s narrative, Jesus has, at this point, identified Himself as the Messiah within the context of the Jewish patrimony, in what scholars refer to as the Messianic Secret. Jesus, as explained by Pope Benedict, within the confines of private revelation among his disciples, has repudiated a strictly political concept of messiahship. It’s also important to remember that Mark’s gospel uses Jewish riddle literature to guide the listener's internalization of conclusions.

McGovern focuses on a detail missed by both Hay and Pitre—the private-versus-public distinction in the revelation of Jesus’ identity. By highlighting this distinction, the revelation of Jesus’ identity must be pushed back to the Entry into Jerusalem. McGovern’s article focuses on Matthew’s treatment of the Jerusalem entry notes “Son of David” references. Mark’s gospel also ties into the Davidic references, “Blessed is the kingdom of our father David that is to come.”22

The entire setting of the Entry into Jerusalem in the Synoptic tradition is framed by Psalm 118:

22 The stone which the builders rejected

has become the cornerstone.

23 This is the LORD’S doing;

it is marvelous in our eyes.

24 This is the day which the LORD has made;

let us rejoice and be glad in it.

25  Save us, we beg you, O LORD!

O LORD, we beg you, give us success!

26 Blessed be he who enters in the name of the LORD!

We bless you from the house of the LORD.

27 The LORD is God,

and he has given us light.

Bind the festal procession with branches,

up to the horns of the altar! 23

There are a few striking features of comparison between the Psalm and Mark’s entry narrative about God, YHWH.

1. The crowd shouting “Hosanna” is a reference to Ps. 118:25: “Save us.”

2. The crowd was also shouting “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, " a reference to v. 26

3. The Procession of Jesus and the reference to the festal procession with branches v. 27.

The procession of the Catholic priest at the beginning of Mass, who stands in Persona Christi, is a public work among the faithful, revealing the LORD in the Liturgy of the Word and Eucharist to support the faithful’s mission on earth. After the entry into Jerusalem, Mark’s gospel presents Jesus teaching in the temple, where He continues to publicly reveal Himself to the crowds, with reference to Ps. 118.

Have you not read this Scripture:

‘The very stone which the builders rejected

has become the cornerstone;

11 this was the Lord’s doing,

and it is marvelous in our eyes’?”

12 And they tried to arrest him, but feared the multitude, for they perceived that he had told the parable against them; so they left him and went away. 24

In my estimation, Pitre’s minimizing of the cleansing of the temple, among other testimonies about the temple, being an important factor which precipitated the blasphemy charge against Jesus, shouldn’t be understated in the Passion narrative. Pope Benedict XVI makes a fantastic connection between the use of Psalm 118, what it meant to Israel’s history, and its religious traditions:

This process of appropriation and reinterpretation, which begins with Jesus’ praying of the Psalms, is a typical illustration of the unity of the two Testaments, as taught to us by Jesus. When he prays, he is completely in union with Israel, and yet he is Israel in a new way: the old Passover now appears as a great foreshadowing. The new Passover, though, is Jesus himself, and the true “liberation” is taking place now, through his love that embraces all mankind.25

This action, as we have seen, is in profound continuity with God’s primordial will, and at the same time it marks the decisive turning point in the history of religions, a turning point that becomes a reality on the Cross. It was this action—the cleansing of the Temple—that contributed significantly to Jesus’ condemnation to death on the Cross, thereby fulfilling his prophecy and heralding the new worship.26

The Trial Before the Sanhedrin & Blasphemy.

No doubt Pitre understands that, when examining the gospels, reliance on Ps. 110:3 will not be convincing to those who employ the historical-critical method. There is a pivot in his thesis toward a focus on the blasphemy charge brought by what Mark simply describes as the high priest. What is important is that through the Synoptic tradition, and in particular Mark’s gospel, the blasphemy charge is not unique to the trial before the Sanhedrin.

The search for Mark’s claim about the identity of who Jesus is may rest on the very question—Why was Jesus crucified? The most popular theory among biblical scholars is that of crimes against the temple. It must be emphasized and put to rest that this theory has no evidence within any of the gospel texts. There is not one verse that charges Jesus with crimes against the temple, but rather all evidence of the primary source material suggests blasphemy was the charge. Pitre explains, “It is difficult to overemphasize the fact that there is no positive evidence Jesus was charged with any crime in relation to the temple incident.”27

In fact, the charge of blasphemy goes back to the very beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. In chapter two of Mark’s gospel, vv. In 1-12, we find Jesus in the town of Capernaum, reported to be at home with a large crowd gathered around Him in public while He preached. The narrative pericope is preceded by an exorcism and several healings, so in this particular narrative, a paralytic is found to be too far away from Jesus. The friends of the paralytic remove the roof of the house and lower their friend to be healed by Jesus. Jesus, moved by the act of faith, v. 5, says, "Child, your sins are forgiven.” The scribes' response is automatic in the following verse 7: “Why does this man speak like this? It is blasphemy! Who can forgive sins but God alone?”

Now this raises a question for the biblical exegete using literary criticism, given what we now know about Jewish riddles—is Mark using a Jewish riddle within the narrative pericope for his audience to wrestle with the answer?

The charge of blasphemy is essential to understanding Jesus’ claims in the Gospel of Mark. All of the public revelations written in Mark on the identity of who he claims Jesus to be are adjudicated through the question posed by the high priest, Jesus’ answer, and the high priest’s reaction and charge of blasphemy.

An Outline of the Narrative Sequence for Mk 14:53-64

I. The Setting and the witness, Peter. (vv. 53-54)

II. The False Testimony against Jesus with no evidence or charges. (vv. 55-59)

III. The high priest’s direct question to Jesus about the identity claim. (vv. 60-61)

IV. Jesus’ answer “I am;” with quoting Daniel 7:13 and Ps. 110:1 (v. 62)

V. The high priest's reaction and blasphemy charge (vv. 63-64)

The importance of the charge of blasphemy with whom Mark claims Jesus to be cannot be understated; it is essential for understanding Jesus’ answer—it is the adjudicatory moment of Mark’s gospel. Mark’s claim lends historical credence to any and all blasphemy charges leveled against Jesus in the Gospel of John; furthermore, it bridges the gap between the Synoptic and Johannine traditions. It is a sentiment that is expressed by historical-critical exegete Raymond Brown in his work Gospel According to John:

We also mention the possibility that John is historically correct in showing that the Jewish authorities took umbrage at Jesus’ claims long before that Sanhedrin trial when, on the night before Jesus’ death, another egō eimi (Mark xiv 62) provoked the high priest to cry blasphemy and call for death.28

The contextual understanding is important for grasping what the blasphemy charge implied in 1st-century Judaism. In fact, taking a look at James Hastings et al’s definition of its understanding prior to Bultmann and the boys’ reexamination of the New Testament, the biblical and contextual understanding of the blasphemy charge on Jesus is understood exactly the way Brant Pitre understands it:

One of the most frequent of the charges brought by the Jews against Jesus was that of blasphemy, and when we inquire into the meaning of the accusation, we find that it was the application to Himself of Divine attributes and prerogatives (Mk 2:7 = Mt 9:3, Mk 14:64 = Mt 26:65, Jn 10:33, 36).29

The blasphemy charge is firmly rooted in the notion of claiming what belongs to God—thus making one equal to God. Mark’s gospel, from the early pages with the healing of the paralytic narrative, in which Jesus takes on the authority to forgive sins, clearly shows a Jesus claiming what belongs to God alone.

It’s important to reiterate that Mark’s gospel firmly establishes Jesus as a divine Messiah figure—but also one who takes up the space unique to YHWH. A thematic analysis of the text, no doubt, points to a Marcan crucified Jesus not because He claimed to be the Messiah, not because He claimed to be a divine being greater than David, but precisely because He claimed to take what belongs to God alone—claiming that space in front of the Jewish religious leadership—a leadership that applied the Leviticus condemnation of death for a blasphemy charge instructed in Lev. 24:16.

There is a thread running through today’s readings that is easy to miss because it is so familiar.

“Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.”

It is the refrain of Psalm 31, sung today as the responsorial. It is also what Jesus says from the cross in Luke’s Gospel - words before he dies, drawn from this same psalm. And it is what Stephen says, in his own words, as the stones begin to fall: “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.”

Three voices (or one voice - Christ’s, the Word’s). One prayer. Across centuries and in the span of a single liturgy, David, Jesus, and Stephen are saying the same thing at the moment of extremity - not as resignation, but as the most deliberate act available to a person. To commend your spirit is to place yourself, consciously and completely, into hands you trust absolutely.

Stephen can say this because of what he has just seen. Filled with the Holy Spirit, he looks up - and the heavens open. He sees the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of the Father. Not seated, as the creeds and most of the New Testament describe, but standing - as if rising to receive him, to witness his faithfulness, to be present at the moment of his death. Stephen looks at that vision and finds, already available to him, the language of the cross: receive my spirit, do not hold this sin against them.

He has been so formed by the paschal mystery that it becomes his own death vocabulary.

The crowd surrounding him does the opposite. They cover their ears. They cry out in a loud voice. They rush upon him together. Stephen is offering them the same vision - “I see the heavens opened” - and they cannot bear to hear it. The infuriation, the grinding of teeth, the covered ears: these are not the responses of people who have considered the evidence and found it wanting. They are the responses of people who have decided, before Stephen speaks, that they will not receive what he is offering.

The crowd in John’s Gospel is doing something similar, though more politely. They invoke the manna - “our ancestors ate bread from heaven in the desert” - and demand that Jesus produce something comparable. A sign. A demonstration. Something on their terms, in their category, that they can evaluate and accept or reject. Jesus answers by offering himself: I am the bread of life. Not a sign pointing to something else, but the thing itself. The hunger they are trying to satisfy with signs is the hunger that only he can fill.

Both crowds are asking for proof while refusing the proof being given.

Augustine, in his Tractates on John, reflects on the crowd’s request and notes that they want to see in order to believe, but that Jesus is inverting the order: you must receive in order to see.1 The bread of life is not something you analyze from a distance and then decide whether to consume. It is something that, received, changes the one who receives it - that forms in us, over time, the capacity to see what Stephen saw. The heavens opened not because Stephen had solved a theological problem but because he had been fed, and formed, and was now dying in the image of the one who had fed him.

This is a striking thing to sit with in the third week of Easter. The resurrection is not primarily an argument to be won. It is a life to be received, again and again, at the altar and in the daily prayer of the household, until it becomes - as it became for Stephen - the language we have available to us when nothing else is left.

There is one more detail in the Acts passage that Luke drops almost in passing, saving it for last: “Now Saul was consenting to his execution.”

The word Luke uses - suneudokōn - carries more than passive consent. It shares its root with the Father’s words at Jesus’s baptism: “in whom I am well pleased.” Saul is not merely failing to stop the stoning. He is actively pleased by it, approving it with satisfaction, taking a kind of pleasure in what is happening. He is there. The witnesses have laid their cloaks at his feet. He is not throwing stones himself - he is something worse, the one who frees the hands of the killers and finds the whole thing agreeable. And he will go on from this moment to pursue the Church with extraordinary violence, by his own later testimony dragging men and women to prison, consenting to their deaths.

This is the man who will become Paul.

The range of grace implied by that sentence - “Now Saul was consenting” - is almost incomprehensible. And yet there it is, embedded in the martyrdom of Stephen, a seed planted in the hardest possible soil. Chrysostom suggests that Stephen’s prayer - “Lord, do not hold this sin against them” - was answered, in part, in the conversion of the man who stood watching.2

The household that prays for the resistant ones, the stiff-necked ones, the ones who cover their ears - is praying in the company of Stephen. And the answer may take longer than we expect, and arrive in a form we could not have anticipated, and change everything.

Into your hands.

Domus Formation has built the & Altar app to bring daily Catholic prayer and formation into the rhythms of the household - with tracks for families, men, women, teens, and those in the second half of life. Because the first school of faith is the home, and every member of it deserves to be formed.

If the idea of a long story passed forward across centuries - of custody and fidelity and a flame that refuses to go out - resonates with you, I am writing it. Lux Perpetua is a serial novel publishing weekly: a free Monday chapter and a paid Thursday chapter, set in Alton, Illinois, at the edge of the Mississippi. The first chapters are live. Free readers are welcome. LuxPerpetua.net

Deacon Michael Halbrook is husband to Suzanne, father of four sons, and a permanent deacon of the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois. He serves at St. Elizabeth Parish in Granite City. He is the founder of Domus Formation, a collection of Catholic prayer and formation resources for every stage of life, and he writes at DeaconMichael.net.

²² On the next day the people who remained on the other side of the sea saw that there had been only one boat there, and that Jesus had not entered the boat with his disciples, but that his disciples had gone away alone. ²³ However, boats from Tibe′ri-as came near the place where they ate the bread after the Lord had given thanks. ²⁴ So when the people saw that Jesus was not there, nor his disciples, they themselves got into the boats and went to Caper′na-um, seeking Jesus.

²⁵ When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” ²⁶ Jesus answered them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, you seek me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. ²⁷ Do not labor for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of man will give to you; for on him has God the Father set his seal.” ²⁸ Then they said to him, “What must we do, to be doing the works of God?” ²⁹ Jesus answered them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.” (Jn 6:22-29 RSVCE)

Jesus, throughout his ministry, had always been beckoning those to seek a deeper meaning, not in what is merely surface oriented, but towards something deeper and even more mystical. Whether we are referring to the miracle at the wedding feast at Cana, the multiplication of the loaves of bread or even the baptism of Christ, there is simply more happening than what is initially apparent. Each of these instances, in one way or another, all lead to the mystery of the person of Christ.

Certainly, the people who were following Jesus certainly understood the importance of having a messiah, and they also were certainly aware that Jesus had the power to perform miracles. And these are all good things of course, because Jesus intended for these things to be known. However, important considerations must still be addressed, such as: 1. A proper understanding of the Messiah as Jesus would have it and 2. Actually seeking Jesus instead of just what his miracles can do for you.

When Jesus said, “Truly, truly, I say to you, you seek me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves (Jn 6:26).” Jesus was reminding them to not rely on perishable food alone, but also to what the miracles point to as the signs. Signs point to that which is deeper, what is essential. Additionally, when they ask, “What must we do, to be doing the works of God (Jn 6:28)?” Jesus, knowing that their theological understanding was still steeped in the transactional, lawful and deontological parameters of the Old Covenant, Jesus responds with what encapsulates the entire point of his ministry, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent (Jn 6:29).”

When we say yes to the supernatural gift of faith in the person of Christ and thus his message, then we are truly doing the first good work of God, and so our subsequent works also become the work of God via the merits of Christ. As today’s Gospel is certainly a message of faith, it also foreshadows the Eucharist by which our faith and belief in the real presence of Christ at Communion is needed, as Christ reminds us is, “The food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of man will give to you; for on him has God the Father set his seal (Jn 6:27).”

Get more from Missio Dei Catholic in the Substack app

Available for iOS and Android

Get the app

Read more

13 And behold, two of them went, the same day, to a town which was sixty furlongs from Jerusalem, named Emmaus.

14 And they talked together of all these things which had happened.

15 And it came to pass, that while they talked and reasoned with themselves, Jesus himself also drawing near, went with them.

16 But their eyes were held, that they should not know him.

17 And he said to them: What are these discourses that you hold one with another as you walk, and are sad?

18 And the one of them, whose name was Cleophas, answering, said to him: Art thou only a stranger to Jerusalem, and hast not known the things that have been done there in these days?

19 To whom he said: What things? And they said: Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet, mighty in work and word before God and all the people;

20 And how our chief priests and princes delivered him to be condemned to death, and crucified him.

21 But we hoped, that it was he that should have redeemed Israel: and now besides all this, to day is the third day since these things were done.

22 Yea and certain women also of our company affrighted us, who before it was light, were at the sepulchre,

23 And not finding his body, came, saying, that they had also seen a vision of angels, who say that he is alive.

24 And some of our people went to the sepulchre, and found it so as the women had said, but him they found not.

25 Then he said to them: O foolish, and slow of heart to believe in all things which the prophets have spoken.

26 Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and so to enter into his glory?

27 And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, he expounded to them in all the scriptures, the things that were concerning him.

28 And they drew nigh to the town, whither they were going: and he made as though he would go farther.

29 But they constrained him; saying: Stay with us, because it is towards evening, and the day is now far spent. And he went in with them.

30 And it came to pass, whilst he was at table with them, he took bread, and blessed, and brake, and gave to them.

31 And their eyes were opened, and they knew him: and he vanished out of their sight.

32 And they said one to the other: Was not our heart burning within us, whilst he spoke in this way, and opened to us the scriptures?

33 And rising up, the same hour, they went back to Jerusalem: and they found the eleven gathered together, and those that were staying with them,

34 Saying: The Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon.

35 And they told what things were done in the way; and how they knew him in the breaking of the bread. (Luke 24:13-35 DRA)

The second reading for this Third Sunday of Easter, from the Epistle of St. Peter, makes an important point related to our Gospel: “If you invoke as Father him who judges impartially

according to each one’s works, conduct yourselves with reverence during the time of your sojourning”. This clearly contradicts the Protestant error of sola fide or faith alone, that works are not necessary for salvation. Even apart from the famous verse in James 2:20, “that faith without works is dead”, St. Peter unequivocally refutes this heresy.

Our Lord also disproves it in our Gospel reading, through the hospitality shown to Him by the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. As St. Augustine explains,

[B]ecause the Lord feigned as if He would go farther, when He was accompanying the disciples, expounding to them the sacred Scriptures, who knew not whether it was He, what does He mean to imply but that through the duty of hospitality men may arrive at a knowledge of Him; that when He has departed from mankind far above the heavens, He is still with those who perform this duty to His servants. He therefore holds to Christ, that He should not go far from him, whoever being taught in the word communicates in all good things to him who teaches. (Gal. 6:6.) For they were taught in the word when He expounded to them the Scriptures. And because they followed hospitality, Him whom they knew not in the expounding of the Scriptures, they know in the breaking of bread. For not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified. (Rom. 2:13.)

The two disciples – one of whom was Cleophas, husband of “Mary of Cleophas,” one of the faithful women who stood at the foot of the Cross and visited the empty tomb earlier this morning – did not recognize Christ immediately. Nor did they recognize Him even after He revealed the allegorical sense of Scripture to them, how the Old Testament continually points to Him as its ultimate fulfillment.

The disciples’ eyes were only opened to recognize Him after they showed Him hospitality, bringing Him into their home and sharing their food with Him. With this donation, just as the unconsecrated bread and wine used in churches today are purchased with money donated by the faithful of the parish, Christ the High Priest repeated the Last Supper and Passion by transubstantiating the species of mere human food into His Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity – into the Eucharist, the Blessed Sacrament. In this way, Christ also refutes another Protestant error, sola scriptura, since not only was His divine authority was necessary to interpret Scripture, as it would be necessary for the Ethiopian convert through the mediation of Philip (Acts 8:26ff), but the Eucharist was necessary for the disciples to see Him.

But without the disciples’ hospitality, this would never have happened. Similarly, without the hospitality and generosity of the local Catholic community, parishes could not exist, nor would the community ever receive the gift of divine life through the Sacraments confected by their priests. In a word, they would not receive the sanctifying grace necessary for salvation or the faith, hope and charity infused into their souls by the Sacraments, without the work of hospitality.

As Catholics, we know that the Old Testament was not wrong, either in its laws or its sacraments. They remain true and good for us today as for their first recipients among the Israelites. Only now, in the New Covenant and the Church, they are fulfilled and brought to completion – not corrected but elevated and revealed fully in Christ, just as He revealed the Scriptures to the disciples by showing them how they point to Him.

So, when the Old Testament repeatedly affirms the value of hospitality, in its events and teachings, we cannot dismiss it. Thus, the three angelic representatives of the Trinity only remained with Abram and Sarai because they received them with hospitality. Similarly, alone among the inhabitants of Jericho, the woman Rahab, despite being a Gentile harlot, was saved when Joshua and the Israelites conquered the city, precisely because she showed hospitality to the spies of Israel and sheltered them from the king. As St. Paul taught, “By faith Rahab the harlot perished not with the unbelievers, receiving the spies with peace.” (Heb 11:31)

Likewise, by his hospitality toward Raphael (disguised as the man Azariah), Tobias son of Tobit, who did not know at the time that he was “one of the seven, who stand before the Lord” (Tobit 12:15), was rescued from the devil, when “the angel Raphael took the devil, and bound him in the desert of upper Egypt.” (Tobit 8:3) This is why hospitality is repeatedly extoled in the New Testament, including in our epistle for today and elsewhere, as when St. Paul, perhaps recalling the hospitality of Tobias, reminds us, “And hospitality do not forget; for by this some, being not aware of it, have entertained angels.” (Heb 13:2) The grace of Christ enables us to fulfill and obey the law, as He did, not to ignore it.

One of the starkest reminders of the godlessness and barbarism of modern society is its total lack of hospitality and the related virtues of good manners, respect and deference, virtues which were once ubiquitously taught to children and expected of adults. People today are taught that they and everyone else are only animals, clumps of cells floating in a void, with no meaning or value beyond their productivity or popularity, so why should they be hospitable to anyone? This is why people who work in the service industry, teaching or other jobs dealing with the public – of any age – find their work so miserable and unbearable, all while often treating customers and those around them with just as little dignity as they are treated.

If we truly want to rechristen the culture, to return society to Christ, we must recover authentic hospitality and all its related virtues. This does not, nor has it ever, meant being a doormat, ignoring any offences people commit simply to look good or maintain proprieties; people often use this excuse for not being well-mannered, but they and their hearers know it to be a mere cop-out. Instead, we should treat others with respect - and expect respect from them in turn. This is how you foster a true culture of hospitality, correcting the excessively casual, animalistic and childish culture we live in today.

May we obey St. Peter’s exhortation, to “conduct yourselves with reverence during the time of your sojourning”, so that we may be enabled to see Christ in the breaking of the bread.

Join the Fellowship at Saint Tolkien!

With these words, Christ calmed the Apostles’ fearful hearts in the midst of a storm on the Sea of Galilee. This event, which we hear in today’s Gospel, occurred during Christ’s public ministry, before His Death and Resurrection. However, this message of peace is consonant with Christ’s often-repeated greeting of peace after His Resurrection.

In writing about this Gospel passage, St. Thomas Aquinas points out that Our Lord did not appear to His Apostles when the storm first started; rather, He permitted them to row three or four miles before appearing. St. Thomas explains that “[w]e [can] see from this that our Lord allows us to be troubled for a while so our virtue may be tested; but [H]e does not desert us in the end, but comes very close to us” (Commentary on the Gospel of John).

Subscribe now

Despite our best efforts to live in harmony with the Church’s liturgical seasons, we can sometimes struggle to feel joy as the Church celebrates the glorious Easter season. Our participation in the beautiful and joyful liturgical festivities of the season can feel hollow when we’re experiencing a time of grief or suffering in our own lives. Today’s Gospel reading reminds us that neither Our Lord nor the Church abandons us in the midst of these sufferings, even in the midst of Easter celebrations.

Just as the risen Christ greeted His Apostles with words of peace, so too He told them to not be afraid in the midst of the storm. In like manner, He tells us to not be afraid in the midst of the storms of life. This peace of which Our Lord so often spoke is partly the mental absence of anxiety, but even deeper than this, it is a spiritual peace and even joy that comes from the assurance that no matter what storms befall us in life, Christ is using all things to bring about His glory and our salvation. As St. Paul wrote, “God is faithful… [and] will not suffer you to be tempted above that which you are able: but will make also with temptation issue, that you may be able to bear it” (1 Cor 10:13 DRB).

This is truly cause for joy, even in the midst of suffering. When we are in the state of grace, we have the assurance that God is with us, residing in our souls, and His grace is protecting us from all suffering that is beyond our strength. As St. Padre Pio said, “Easter reminds us that God’s love is stronger than any suffering or darkness we may encounter.” God often permits us to suffer the storms of life for a time, sometimes appearing to be very far from us as He was for the first few miles of the Apostles’ treacherous journey in the boat. Nonetheless, because of the reality of His Resurrection, we have the assurance that He is stronger than the greatest suffering we could ever endure in this life. He Who triumphed over sin and death has already won the victory for us; if we remain faithful, we will merit a share in this victory after our time in this valley of tears is finished.

Like the Apostles on the Sea of Galilee, Christ does not truly leave us alone in our sufferings. Every time we receive Holy Communion in the state of grace, Our Lord comes into our hearts physically, closer even than He was to His Apostles in the boat on the sea. He comes to us with the quiet yet steadfast promise: “It is I. Do not be afraid.” As we continue this Easter season, may the peace of God fill our hearts, filling us with the supernatural joy found only in the promise of the risen Christ.