St. Paul's Letter to the Galatians, part 3

This finishes my handful of posts on St. Paul's letter to the Galatians: picking up in ch. 4.

One helpful thing that I came across was via Catholic Radio.  Every so often, host Al Kresta (of Kresta in the Afternoon) has a Scripture professor as a guest, and they discuss a book of the Bible.  Somewhat recently, he had Peter Williamson (Sacred Heart Seminary scripture professor) on with the topic: "where do I start with Galatians?"

A number of things struck me with Ch. 4-6...

First, Paul's "thorn in the flesh," which he mentions specifically in 2 Cor 12:7 and alludes to it in Gal 4:14.  When I was in college, a priest was of the opinion that St. Paul struggled with masturbation, or at least that it was a plausible explanation.  I read somewhere else that the thorn was homosexual acts.  Sure, St. Paul was just as capable of sin as the rest of us, but neither of those things fit with other aspects of Paul's character.

William Barclay offered far more reasonable hypotheses than mortal sin, noting that it could likely have been epilepsy or migraines.  Paul says in 4:14 that "you did not scorn me"... and in the original Greek, it literally says "you did not spit at me."  It was a practice in the ancient world to spit when meeting an epileptic.  (yikes)  Also providing a clue is the location of the Christian community.  Galatia was farther inland and less populous than Pamphylia; Paul may have originally had the latter as the target, and was forced to go to the former.  Malaria was common in ancient Pamphylia, and one of the symptoms is migraines.  Either way, some sort of medical condition fits so, so much better than masturbation.

Justification is a big theological topic--it has divided Christians for 500 years.  I looked up the term in the Catechism and I was stunned at how short it was (#1987-2016).  In the 16th Century, Martin Luther, St. Thomas More, and scholar after scholar must've wrote volumes on the subject.

A verse to memorize: "For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is of any avail, but faith working through love." (Gal 5:6)  This verse was cited by the Council of Trent in the document about justification.  I haven't looked up the Protestant arguments against this yet, but I'd be interested to see them.

Barclay had a beautiful insight on the use of the word "Abba" (Gal 4:6): "It must have been often on Jesus' lips, and its sound was so sacred that men kept it in the original tongue." (pg. 35)

I often find that oft-repeated verses lose their weight in my mind.  Or, if a meaning is so obvious, then leave it alone and don't complicate it further.  In the case of the following passage...

Do not be deceived; God is not mocked, for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap.  For he who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption; but he who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life.  And let us not grow weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we do not lose heart. (Gal 6:7-9)  

Pretty plain, right?  The Ignatius Study Bible had an analogy that I adapted.  If you plant kale, don't expect an orange tree to sprout.  As an exercise, replace the two plants with something that's repugnant (kale needs a lot of help from other foods to be edible) and something that you like (an orange tree will have to do, as there is no mint chocolate candy bar tree).  It helped the passage sink in a lot better for me.  If I take an honest look, just how much kale have I sown?  We cannot be so foolish as to take the mercy of God for granted!  The things we do have eternal consequences.

St. Josemaria Escriva had a striking thought about an empty cross: the body it's waiting for is yours.

One thing I hadn't considered--was St. Paul a stigmatist?  In 6:17 he says, "I bear on my body the marks of Jesus."  Was he speaking allegorically or literally, or both?  Or was Paul referencing his sharing in Our Lord's Passion from all the beatings he got?  Here's a forum answer from EWTN a while ago.

Thank the Lord for His Word given to us!

St. Paul's Letter to the Galatians, part 2

Moving through the letter to the Galatians has continued to be fruitful for me, and it helps to paint the picture of the Church in apostolic times. 

Dissent in the Catholic Church today is disheartening to me, and it's frustrating as well.  Growing up, I remember there being a big push to go back to the early days of the Church, since they had it figured out more than we did.  If we could just be like the early Christians, everything would be fine!  Well... reading Galatians, they had just as many problems as we do.  Different problems, but the apostolic Church wasn't necessarily the idyllic communion that some have made it out to be.  I don't think we appreciate just how difficult the issue of "judaizing" was back then. 

Jewish converts to Christianity left behind not just a faith or philosophy.  They left behind (or were supposed to) an entire way of life.  Let's not forget that following the Mosaic Law entailed observing feasts, dietary regulations, and ritual purity washings.  Those affected the daily lives of Jews.  Is it any wonder that many of the adult Jewish converts had trouble leaving behind tenets they practiced their entire life?  They couldn't even enter the house of a Gentile--as illustrated in the story of the centurion's servant in Matthew 8:5-13.  The centurion's response to Jesus was made out of respect for Our Lord and with knowledge that Jesus would become ritually impure if He entered the centurion's house.  I think.  I can't seem to find a citation for that but will update (and correct, if necessary) this post if I do find one. 

St. Paul starts ch. 3 with a bang, calling out the "foolish Galatians" (3:1).  He continues to address the attestations of the Judaizers, countering their arguments with his rabbinic training.  Paul doesn't let up from 3:1 to 4:7--and then shifts tone starting in 4:8.  The frustration exhausts him; I hear him pleading, in a weary voice, "how can you turn back again to the weak and beggardly elemental spirits, whose slaves you want to be once more?  ...I am afraid I have labored over you in vain" (4:9, 11).

Out of that whole section (3:1-4:7), I really needed the help of the commentaries.  Again, I'm using the Navarre Bible, the Ignatius Study Bible, and William Barclay's commentaries--Barclay being the only non-Catholic of the group.  I hit a snag especially with 3:22: "But the scripture consigned all things to sin, that what was promised to faith in Jesus Christ might be given to those who believe."  The gist of it was that all people, whether Jew or Gentile, were prisoners of sin; whatever the power of the Law, it could not justify man.  And, that was a big setup to the saving work of Jesus, who ultimately redeemed all from sin.

Besides the commentaries, looking at different translations helped.  I predominantly read the RSV-CE; I dislike the NAB as being too fluffy on one of my favorite verses.  Here is how Gal 3:22 appeared in other translations:

New American Bible: "In fact, however, Scripture has locked all things in under the constraint of sin"

Douay-Rheims and King James Bible: "But the Scripture hath concluded all under sin"

Knox (English Catholic Msgr. who translated the Bible himself) (!!!): "But in fact Scripture represents us as all under the bondage of sin"

Jerusalem Bible and New Jerusalem Bible: "Scripture makes no exceptions when it says sin is master everywhere"

New Revised Standard Version: "but Scripture has imprisoned all things under the power of sin"

For those of us that don't speak Greek, having a lot of interpretations helps fill in the message that Paul tried to get across. 

More to come!

St. Paul's Letter to the Galatians, part 1

I've begun reading St. Paul's letter to the Galatians over the past week or so.  I first read it through, and I'm now consulting some trusted commentaries.  I'm thankful for the commentaries, as I found the epistle to be complex.  I had to laugh, this epistle kind of fits in one of the more surprising lines in the Bible: "So also our beloved brother Paul wrote to you according to the wisdom given him, speaking from hthis as he does in all his letters.  There are some things in them hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction."  (2 Peter 3:15-16).  Ha!  I'm in good company if I find some of Paul's writings hard to understand.  May God keep me from the ignorant/unstable lot...

It's interesting to me that such an intense issue of the Judaizers is now a distant memory.  I'd think most western Catholics would need the help of a commentary to further understand the 1st century Jewish world.  Besides that, I think it's a great commentary on the truth of the Christian faith.  That which is the truth has a remarkable endurance; heresies and false teaching, perhaps taking from the truth but not being of  the truth, don't have deep enough roots to endure through the ages.  The Navarre Bible commentary cited St. Jerome on this:

"These people wanted to change the Gospel, to twist it; bout that is something they cannot succeed in doing, for this Gospel is suck that it cannot be true if it is tampered with."  (Pg. 171)

St. Paul's talk of the works of the law impacted me, first for the vehemence behind it.  His words are strong and pointed.  And it occurred to me: that tone is coming from a former Pharisee.  The Mosaic Law was his life!  He studied it, loved it, devoted himself to its practices, and celebrated its feasts.  He was present at the stoning of Stephen.   If we ever doubt God's ability to turn the hearts of man, look no further than Paul.

The reason for St. Paul's passion on this issue was the logical conclusion of the Judaizers' teaching.  The false teaching being that Gentiles entering the Church had to become Jews first before getting baptized as Christians.     If that were true, then justification (=getting right with God) depended on how well Christians kept the Mosaic Law.  And how is that any different than before Jesus came?  Why did Jesus bother with His Passion if it didn't change anything?

Things did change--drastically.  In St. John's vision of Revelation, Jesus tells him, "Behold, I make all things new." (Rev 21:5)  That was the second thing that impacted me about St. Paul's treatment of the works of the Law.  The sacraments are the fulfillment of the old practices!  God's chosen people is not limited to a ethic group; membership is offered to every nation and every people.  Grace was given before, but God now recklessly pours out His grace on humanity.

Those are a few points from Ch. 1-2 that struck me.  It's somewhat comforting to look at the internal conflict within the Church today, and to see the very same thing in the Bible.  Jesus transformed the Church, but human nature is still human nature.

Publications Round-Up

I was very glad to have a few articles posted on the Cora Evans blog since the last time I updated this blog.  It's too late for my daily Lenten reflections, but here are two others:

In honor of St. Patrick's Day, a reflection on his Breastplate prayer (breastplate = Lorica in Latin).  It's a really incredible prayer when you sit with it for a little while.  The most well-known part of it is the "Christ behind me, Christ before me" stanza, but the entire prayer is much longer.  Worth a read!

For Good Friday, a combination of the physical effects of the crucifixion and some reflections. 

Both articles were interesting topics, and I probably learned more in the writing than anyone will in the reading of them. 

Easter is Here and Lent is Gone--I mean, concluded... I mean, Lent is fine, but Easter is glory... I mean...

Every time Easter arrives, the feast is full of joy and glory.  It's the resurrection of Our Lord Jesus and the most singular important event in human history!  Embedded in the joy is the relief of Lent being over.  The St. Francises and St. Ignatiuses have eyes to see suffering as it really is: participation in the Passion of Jesus.  I am not in that category.  More often than not, I fight it tooth and nail.

An examination of my Lent is always disappointing.  I have a strange idea of myself that I should come out of Lent completely purified and perfect.  Bad habit x?  Eliminated!  Evangelism efforts?  Tripled!  Sacred Scripture?  Memorized, contemplated, and able to answer every possible question!  It took a few years to come to peace with this high expectations "false me."  Dealing with that kind of unrealistic expectation has one primary peril: I inadvertently assumed that I would be doing the serious heavy lifting.  Grace, the Holy Spirit, yeah yeah, but it was I that had to fix things.  There was no possible way I could ever live up to my own expectations, especially if I relied more on myself rather than God.  That disastrous approach has two outcomes: apathy or an OCD approach (although not in the Carmelite sense).  The former, why even bother if I can't do it?, leads to sloth.  The latter, being anxious and over-scrupulous, leads to even further pride.  I settled for some apathetic Lents in the past, and they didn't do me any lasting good. 

The key is to avoid pride and hit the mark in between two extremes, as our friend Aristotle would say.  Approach Lent with humility--knowing from the beginning our weakness and inability to fix everything ourselves in 40 days.  Also, I think a targeted approach helps during Lent.  In the past, I fasted just to fast.  It's that thing we do during Lent, right?  Instead, target a particular weakness and fast toward that end.  And, to be clear, it should be a spiritual end.  Fasting from a particular food for the sake of losing weight has some spiritual merit, but it's misdirected. 

This year, my wife and I decided to give up sweets.  That practice was my go-to for Lent from my childhood all the way up until college.  I hadn't fasted from sweets for a number of years; trying this year proved more difficult than I expected.  There are two somewhat embarrassing episodes that highlight this...

First, my wife made dinner for some friends who recently had a baby; there were some leftover cookies.  I have some Irish heritage and love St. Patrick, so we agreed that a single, leftover cookie on that day would be ok.  Leading up to St. Patrick's feast day, I found myself craving that cookie.  That was accompanied by a sobering thought: have I ever had such fervor for the Eucharist?  Seriously, I looked forward to a cookie more than the Body of Christ?

Second, my wife and I started the Divine Mercy Novena on Good Friday.  Halfway through the prayer for the day, my mind wandered (in itself, not uncommon)... to breakfast the next day.  Sausage or bacon?  Eggs, for sure... are we out of English muffins?

Yikes.  We both had the realization that, for one, this was a well-aimed penance for the weakness of our appetite for sweets.  In addition, that appetite was stronger than I initially thought. 

I believe our fasting did us a lot of good, and it provided an opportunity to become more humble than before.  To close, here's a passage from St. John Chrysostum.  For everything that changes in the world, human nature does not.  These words sound like he's talking directly to me:

"Sharpen your sickle, which you have blunted through gluttony— sharpen it by fasting. Lay hold of the pathway which leads towards heaven; rugged and narrow as it is, lay hold of it, and journey on.  And how may thou be able to do these things?  By subduing your body, and bringing it into subjection.  For when the way grows narrow, the corpulence that comes of gluttony is a great hindrance.  Keep down the waves of inordinate desires.  Repel the tempest of evil thoughts.  Preserve the bark; display much skill, and you have become a pilot. But we shall have the fast for a groundwork and instructor in all these things."  (Homilies on the Statutes, Homily III, #7)