The Faith Explained with Cale Clarke

Even as we prepare to celebrate the Resurrection of Jesus Christ on Easter Sunday, this Holy Saturday is a good time to examine the reality of Jesus’ death and burial. It has become necessary to do this because both events have been denied by skeptics over the years. It is also important because, in order for Christianity to be true, Jesus must have died, for without his death there could not have been a Resurrection. He also must have been buried, because  scripture and the Church have constantly asserted this fact as part of the kerygma.

1. The death of Jesus. Scholar Gary Habermas states that “the death of Jesus is the most recorded event in ancient, non-Christian history” (The Historical Jesus, p. 281). In an earlier post, we looked at Habermas’ use of the Roman historian Tacitus to this effect. Here is another quote from another, non-Christian source, referring to the death of Jesus (there are numerous Christian references to this as well, but I find secular sources are often more convincing to secular people). This one is from the Jewish Talmud, which was compiled between AD 70-200:

“On the eve of the Passover, Yeshu was hanged. For forty days before the execution took place, a herald went forth and cried, ‘He is going forth to be stoned because he has practiced sorcery and enticed Israel to apostasy. Any one who can say anything in his favour, let him come forward and plead on his behalf.’ But since nothing was brought forward in his favour he was hanged on the eve of the Passover!”

- Quoted in Habermas, The Historical Jesus, p. 203

2. The burial of Jesus. Affirming this fact is necessary due to theories like that of former Catholic priest John Dominic Crossan, who famously claimed that Jesus’ dead body was likely thrown into a shallow common grave, where it was eaten by dogs. While not denying that at times in late antiquity, the Romans would leave bodies on crosses to be mauled by animals and birds of carrion (as a public deterrent to revolt), there is no chance this happened to Jesus, because it was peacetime. For Pilate to have left Jesus’ body hanging on the cross overnight during Passover would have been a fatal mistake, all but guaranteeing a riot by the myriad Jews gathered in Jerusalem for the feast. The Romans never would have risked offending Jewish sensibilities here, which they respected during times of calm. Leaving Jesus’ body on the cross would have defiled the land (see Deut. 21:22-23), making it impossible for Jews to celebrate the feast in an acceptable manner. No, Jesus did receive a proper burial with the help of Joseph of Arimathea, an undoubtedly historical reference (no early Christian would have invented a story of Jesus receiving a proper burial, not from his followers, but from a member of the very council that condemned him).

Luke’s Gospel tells us about the two criminals who were crucified on either side of Jesus:

“Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be executed. When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified him there, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.’ And they divided up his clothes by casting lots. The people stood watching, and the rulers even sneered at him. They said, ‘He saved others; let him save himself if he is God’s Messiah, the Chosen One.’ The soldiers also came up and mocked him. They offered him wine vinegar and said, ‘If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.’ There was a written notice above him, which read: THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS. One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: ‘Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!’ But the other criminal rebuked him. ‘Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.’ Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ Jesus answered him, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise’” (Luke 23:32-43).

John’s Gospel mentions that the titulus, or title that was hung on Jesus’ cross to explain his “crime”  - “THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS” – was written in Hebrew, Latin, and Greek (John 19:20). This was a sort of summary of the official charges that would be sent to Rome, but it also affirmed, unintentionally, the universal reign of Christ the King. Being written in all three languages would have enabled all those pilgrims from around the world, who were in Jerusalem for the Passover, to read it. And the opposing reactions of the two criminals on either side of Christ, when you boil it down to essentials, represent the only two reactions people have had toward Christ over the centuries: acceptance or rejection.

What is particularly amazing about the reaction of the “Good Thief”, as he has come to be known, is that he was converted not by witnessing Jesus’ miracles, or listening to his sublime, otherworldly teaching. The only sermon he heard was one that spoke far louder than words alone – the Passion of the Christ, the suffering endured by our Lord. He was converted by witnessing the example of Jesus – forgiving his enemies, the way he carried his cross with determination, not despair – everything Jesus said and did as he ascended to his throne, the Holy Cross. This man was given the grace to see what so many others that day could not – the true identity of Christ. And what Jesus had predicted had come true in the life of this man: “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life” (John 3:14, 15).

On this Good Friday, let us pray that many others will be converted by contemplating the suffering and death of Jesus Christ.

When we set about creating The New Mass iPhone app, the very first person I called was Archbishop Terrence Prendergast of Ottawa. He and I had met when we were presenters at a couple of conferences. He was also the only Canadian on the translating committee for the new English version of the Mass. Recently, he was interviewed by the National Post’s Charles Lewis on the importance of the new Roman Missal:

Q. Is it more sacred language?

A. There are different types of speech: for the pub, at work, on a television talk shows; and another more suitable for worship.  The early translation was more pedestrian, let us say; this one has a higher literary register, though still familiar, as is fitting for sons and daughters of God.

Q. Proponents of the new missal say if nothing else the new language will force people in the pews to think more about what they’re saying and think about what it means. Do you agree?

A. Yes, especially at first when the translation will be strikingly novel. I believe the people in the pews will adapt to the translation fairly quickly; however, the priests will need a bit more time and the laity will need to be patient with them.

When it comes to certain terms — for example, speaking of the death of Jesus “for many” rather than [the current] “for all” — it will be an apt opportunity for teaching and clarifying Church doctrine. Similarly with the statement in the Creed that says Jesus is “consubstantial” with the Father rather than “one in being.” People will wonder and puzzle over texts and this will give priests and deacons an opportunity to teach the nuances of the faith.

For the full interview, go here.

Today’s National Post ran a front-page story about the upcoming new English translation of the Mass: “Vatican’s new Mass ‘elitist’, priests say”. These priests are based in Ireland, and my own Irish eyes weren’t exactly smiling when I read their views. They are, in a word, wrong – on so many levels.

Judging from the reaction we’ve received to The New Mass iPhone app, and to the talks I’ve given on the new translation in thefaithexplained.com seminar series, these guys are seriously mistaken. In my experience, once people have actually seen the new text, and have had the reasons for the changes explained to them, they are generally thrilled. Not only is the new translation more faithful to the official Latin text, but it does a superb job of highlighting the biblical allusions in the Mass.

The complaints of these priests are also unseemly for other reasons. They are, quite simply, poisoning the well for their own parishioners. In all likelihood, most of these people haven’t viewed the new Mass translation for themselves, but when they read an article in the media – quoting their own priests – bashing it to pieces, they can’t help but be negatively prejudiced against it. In my view, these priests are merely seeking to grab some ill-gotten attention for themselves, when they should be supporting the decisions of the hierarchy whom they (allegedly) serve. If they have legitimate concerns, fine. But let those be aired privately in meetings with the bishops, not in the secular media or the court of public opinion.

When Saint Paul wrote (quoting an early creedal statement of the Church), that Jesus “was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:4), what scriptures were in mind? For that matter, when Jesus himself predicted his suffering, death, burial, and Resurrection “on the third day” (cf. Mark 8:31; Matthew 16:21; Luke 9:22), did he believe he would be fulfilling any particular passage? Dr. Craig Evans seems to think so.

In his book (co-authored with N.T. Wright) “Jesus: The Final Days”, Evans notes that Hosea 6 (which just happens to be the Old Testament Mass reading today) may be in the background here, especially verse 2: “He will revive us after two days; on the third day he will raise us up, to live in his presence” (RSV). Evans notes that the translation of this verse in the Aramaic Targum (which Jesus, as a native speaker of Aramaic, would have probably been quite familiar with) has a unique emphasis: “He will revive us in the days of consolations that will come; on the day of the resurrection of the dead he will raise us up and we shall live before him” (Aramaic differences italicized). As Evans puts it, “The coherence of Jesus’ words with the Aramaic tradition is striking” (p. 13). It is hard to escape the conclusion that Jesus not only predicted not only his death, but also his Resurrection, seeing both as fulfilling scripture.

I’m not a huge poetry guy, but I’ve always been struck by this one: “Seven Stanzas at Easter”, by John Updike. I made use of it last night as I was giving a talk about the liturgical seasons of Lent and Easter. Updike’s poem emphasizes the bodily, corporeal reality of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. This was a real, historical event, not a metaphor. Christ really rose physically from death, leaving an empty tomb behind. As Saint Paul stresses, “If Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is vain, and and your faith is in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:14). Or, as Updike puts it:

Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His flesh: ours.

The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that–pierced–died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.

Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping, transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.

The stone is rolled back, not papier-mâché,
not a stone in a story,
but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow
grinding of time will eclipse for each of us
the wide light of day.

And if we will have an angel at the tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck’s quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.

Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.

Today’s Gospel reading at Mass raises a very common question posed to Catholics:

Jesus spoke to the crowds and to his disciples, saying,
“The scribes and the Pharisees
have taken their seat on the chair of Moses.
Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you,
but do not follow their example.
For they preach but they do not practice.
They tie up heavy burdens hard to carry
and lay them on people’s shoulders,
but they will not lift a finger to move them.
All their works are performed to be seen.
They widen their phylacteries and lengthen their tassels.
They love places of honor at banquets, seats of honor in synagogues,
greetings in marketplaces, and the salutation ‘Rabbi.’
As for you, do not be called ‘Rabbi.’
You have but one teacher, and you are all brothers.
Call no one on earth your father;
you have but one Father in heaven.
Do not be called ‘Master’;
you have but one master, the Christ.
The greatest among you must be your servant.
Whoever exalts himself will be humbled;
but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

-Mt 23:1-12

If Jesus condemns calling any man “father”, how is it that Catholics call their priests “Father”? For the answer, click here.

This past Saturday, I was the speaker at the Newman Centre at the University of Toronto for a Lenten Day of Recollection. The topic was “Conversion”.

Here I am (2nd from L, rockin’ the new goatee, no less!) with Josh Canning (far L) from the Newman Centre staff, Fr Kenneth LeBlanc (2nd from R, and a fellow Maritimer, I might add) from the Legionaries of Christ, who preached an excellent homily at the Mass he celebrated for us, and one of the participants. It really was a great day, and many thanks to Josh and to the rest of the Newman Centre crew for making the event such a success.

Today’s First Reading at Mass was taken from Genesis. It features what Pope John Paul II would call the key to understanding what came to be known as the “Theology of the Body”, John Paul’s legendary catechesis on human sexuality and embodiment.

This key is the phrase, “The man and his wife were both naked, and felt no shame”. Why is this so crucial? To understand, we must revisit an earlier work of Karol Wojtyla/John Paul II, “Love and Responsibility”. The key thought in this book is that to love is the very opposite of what it means to use someone. Love is a total gift of oneself. This is exactly what Adam and Eve experienced before the Fall. The very pattern if their bodies demanded that they seek to be a self-gift to the beloved.

But after sin entered the world, lust entered the world. Adam and Eve instinctively cover themselves (prior to this, they had not even realized they were naked) with fig leaves (the original “Fruit of the Loom” underwear). Why? Christopher West, a well-known commentator on the TOB, puts it this way. Lust is sexual desire, devoid of the love of God. It is sexual desire (which is good and God-given in itself) misdirected. It is a desire which no longer seeks to give oneself completely to the beloved, but to take, to use the other as a mere object.

The cross of Christ is the very opposite of this. It is by contemplating the crucifix, and the supreme self-offering of the New Adam, Jesus, to his bride, the Church, that we understand what love truly is. And it is from the power of the cross that we derive, through the sacraments, the strength to imitate that love.

Call it an Anglican communion confusion. Charles Lewis, writing in today’s National Post cover story, tells us that “Canadian Anglicans will hold discussions this spring about whether baptism is necessary for taking part in communion – questioning a requirement of Christianity that has existed for 2,000 years.”

The reason? Numbers are down! The Anglican communion in Canada has been bleeding members for years. According to the Post article, the organization is down to only 500,000 members, whereas it had 1.3 million only decades ago. The hope is that another attempted Anglican change of the rules of the game will attract more fans.

I’m reminded of the wise words of Peter Kreeft, who once noted that the Catholic Church is always being accused of trying to impose some sort of a draconian authority over its members, but the reality is that other Christian communities actually claim far, far more authority for themselves than does the Catholic Church.

How so? Kreeft says that these communities are constantly changing the teachings of Christ to suit their own needs and whims, but the Catholic Church does not – and cannot – do so. She simply doesn’t have the authority. She is not free to alter the teachings of her Lord. Kreeft says that “authority”, after all, means “author’s rights”. We are not the authors of Christ’s teaching, and we are not free to edit it – we’re only the mail carriers. Our job is simply to pass on the teaching of Christ intact to the next generation, unpopular though it may be.

But, even if Anglicans do open up their communion table to all, our Lord won’t be offended in the least. After all, Anglicans haven’t had valid Holy Orders for centuries. They may think they have a valid eucharist, but without validly ordained priests and bishops, it can never be the Eucharist – the true Body and Blood of Christ. Deep down, many Anglicans realize this, just as Cardinal John Henry Newman did before coming home to the Catholic Church. He noted that the leftover, and allegedly consecrated, communion elements from a service were summarily dumped in the trash. He realized that this could not possibly be the Eucharist the early Christians spoke of – no matter who gets to partake of it. And no amount of misguided marketing could ever change that fact.