Jan and Hubert van Eyck, The Ghent Altarpiece, 1432.
Jan and Hubert van Eyck, The Ghent Altarpiece, 1432.
This is in some ways a response to the challenge of 1 Peter 3:15: “Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope…”
I won’t for a moment suggest that the credo can be improved, but here’s how I’d articulate Catholicism in my own words:
I believe that the eternal, omnipotent, omniscient, omnibenevolent, perfectly just God created us out of sheer agape, and also granted us free will1, which we took and abused (sin)2 like a knot of impudent toads. And yet He pursued us like the Hound of Heaven—being madly in love with us—through the centuries via prophets and kings and through a special people (Israel) and finally through His only son, Jesus Christ, to save us from ourselves (because addicts can’t just pull themselves up out of their addiction “by their bootstraps”), which He did by being horrifically tortured and executed, though innocent, on a cross in order to expiate the past, present, and future sins of the world. He founded and left us His Church to give all the means to be saved—and then divinized3—through that sacrifice.
Ergo, I’m Catholic because that’s the divine gameplan…and it being the fountainhead of Truth and God’s Grace.
But if I had to summarize what’s truly special and unique about Catholicism, a few things rise to the top:
Let me back all the way up. The first and simplest answer of why I’m Catholic is that I was “brought up” in the Faith, which I’m proud of (fidei donum) but also a touch self-conscious about—or shall I say I’m defensive against the tacit assumption that faith is a mere function of upbringing and where the Fates had you be born5 as I’d characterize this as a genetic fallacy. It also holds less water as society secularizes and it’s not so fashionable to practice Catholicism. But, as I say, it was a gift: Mass every Sunday with Mom at the piano, leading the congregation in sung prayer, with Dad ensuring we didn’t screw around and participated (sang). They were carrying a tradition passed down from their parents and so on. This is more than my immediate family: four grandparents6 (one a convert), 19 biological aunts and uncles, family friends, et al. Kindergarten through third grade, and then eighth through twelfth grades were Catholic schooling, and while it was maybe catechetically unremarkable, I was surrounded by many people living out their faith to the best of their ability (which carries a lot of weight).
My formation in Christianity and Catholicism was multifaceted with many lovely people playing parts, but at the same time it also lacked rigor—for which I take full responsibility as I was given the gift of attending wonderful Catholic institutions with unfettered access to marvelous teachers. High school was diocesan, and so it was my Uncle John who turned me on to the Jesuits (he having been formed in the tradition for the better part of a decade before deciding to exit). And so I chose Boston College for undergrad, its (Jesuit) Catholicity no small factor, and once there my faith indeed expanded…in the classroom certainly (e.g., with Fr. Michael Himes), through various retreats and activities (e.g., Liturgical Arts Group), and during many late-night discussions and debates with clever friends7. Kairos VIII impacted me enough that I joined the leadership team of a subsequent one; but theologically it only went ankle-deep, and so it demanded I take the next step on my own, which I failed to do…at least at that time. In my mid-20s I did deviate from the Faith when Protestantism directly challenged it and I lacked the theological foundations to overcome. However that detour ended up being profitable to my faith life overall, and ultimately, I appreciated the shake because it sent me on a path of greater inquiry. I became hungry for theology, and several texts had an oversized influence on me—Seven Storey Mountain being among the most important. Later @BishopBarron, @catholiccom, and @FrDaveNix were all very helpful to my formation and growth.
I married “up” in many categories, but faith was certainly one: Lisa’s itself but also that of her family: earnest, natural, bold, everpresent—possibly a gift passed down from the Korean martyrs. We met in the contemporary choir of St. Dominic’s, me a guitarist and vocalist; she a pianist. Faith occupied an important part of our relationship (e.g., weekly Lectio Divina with friends), and it eventually led us to an orthodox—or orthoprax, as I like to say—parish, Star of the Sea, which has been a solid spiritual home ever since the Pandemic.
Ultimately, it’s a journey, isn’t it? One step at a time.
Crescamus in Illo per omnia,
— ᴘ. ᴍ. ʙ.
I don’t think I fully understood this logic as early as I should have, but it goes something like this: 1) our sin creates a debt of justice requiring satisfaction (in the Old Testament these were holocausts), 2) we human beings, as finite creatures, cannot provide adequate satisfaction for sin against an infinite God, 3) Christ, being both divine and human, offers Himself as the perfect sacrifice to satisfy this debt, 4) this redemption must be personally appropriated through faith and the sacraments (Mk 16:16, Acts 2:38, Ro 10:9), 5) those who definitively reject this gift place themselves outside salvation; ergo, we need a savior and He is Jesus Christ. ↩
Another amazing concept I wasn’t fully aware of until relatively recently is the doctrine of divinization or deification or in the Eastern Church, theōsis. As St. Athanasius (purportedly) said, “God became man so that man might become God.”: i.e., through union with God in Christ, humans can share in God’s divine nature and become like God. Mysterious, but awesome. ↩
It’s a reason to love Catholicism (Mt 16:18), but also good evidence for it being guided by the H.S. as every other institution and empire has fallen over the centuries. ↩
This is frequently hauled out by the atheists (e.g., “How thoughtful of God to arrange matters so that, wherever you happen to be born, your local religion turns out to be the true one” —Richard Dawkins). ↩
Maybe for another post, but there’s a story to be told on how my maternal grandmother’s tireless efforts can be credited with cultivating the faith of the next generations. ↩
It’s funny: among my five roommates senior year, two became priests: @jzipple and @FrDaveNix, on diametric opposite ends of the conservative-liberal spectrum. ↩