So what are you reading today?

I do love to have old books floating around on all subjects. The more esoteric, the better.

Today I'm paging through an 1871 edition of Religious Denominations of the World, collected by Vincent L. Milner.

The table of contents is alphabetical, but placement within the book itself may have some sort of hidden meaning. Baptists and Episcopalians lead off. Roman Catholics are nearly at the end of the line, just after Pagans of Peru and before Spiritualists.

Large swaths of the world are covered in just a few pages. Pagans of China are dismissed in 3 pages. Yet extinct and marginal Western sects seem to merit at least a paragraph. Muggletonians get two pages.

The Jesuits get their own listing.

The author does a good job of not denigrating any belief or practice, though his understanding is shallow. I look forward to researching Rev. Milner and enjoying his work.

Iʻm not a Catholic in good standing, but still a
(non-denominational) Christian, and still a reader of
Christian books-- of Catholic and several denominations, or no denomination.

Currently: A translation of "The Little Flowers of
St. Francis" Tr. by Abby Langdon Alger. Ed. by Louise Bachelder (Peter Pauper).
Strange that at 87, Iʻm getting to this for the first time!
Iʻm very much an admirer of Francis, and of the present Pope, and was glad to see it (my middle name) become a papal name.
The illustrations, by Valenti Angelo, are good, but didnʻt make much impression on what little artistic sense I have.
Bachelderʻs very clear and straightforward preface
says that the "Flowers" were "collected some two
centuries after (Francisʻs) death", i.e. in the 1400s,
so i suppose they are in late medieval, or early modern Italian. I have a reading knowledge of those and would like to get ahold of the original, but for now making do with the Peter Pauper ed.

>2 rolandperkins: a Catholic in good standing

I often wonder what constitutes "a Catholic in good standing", particularly as we recognise ourselves as a Church of sinners...

>3 John5918:
Maybe someone who goes to Mass each week, doesn't promote heretical views etc.

I'm reading Krailsheimer's life of Armand-Jean de Rancé, abbot of La Trappe in the 1600s (and celebrity founder, so to speak, of the Trappist reform of the Cistercians). I guess some would say that's esoteric!

Me, I'd say a Catholic in good standing is one who, if an adult, could serve as a godparent. I.e., goes to Mass, lives a life of faith (charity, prayer), if married is married in the Church, and isn't notoriously wicked. (Not promoting heresy or other evils is implied.) Practicing also implies annual Confession (fulfilling one's "Easter duty"), though it's usually wrong to probe into this in public!

>4 LesMiserables: and >6 SPPColumbus:

I can't say I disagree, but I find those descriptions rather minimalistic. People (indeed priests) have, outwardly at least, fulfilled all of those criteria while regularly raping children. People have oppressed the poor and marginalised, failed to welcome Christ in the the stranger or prisoner or hungry, made no real effort to love their neighbour, completely ignored Catholic Social Teaching, while outwardly fulfilling all those criteria. While recognising that we are all sinners and we all fall short, I am dissatisfied with most of these descriptions of "a Catholic in good standing". In fact they sound rather like the descriptions of the scribes and pharisees which are attributed to Jesus in the gospels. Remember the chap who stood at the front of the temple listing all the things he did to make him a religious person of good standing (which would certainly include prayer, regular attendance at the temple, and not preaching heresy)? But Jesus favoured the humble poor man at the back of the temple who admitted he was a sinner. I don't know what the answer is, but as I say in >3 John5918:, I still often wonder what constitutes "a Catholic in good standing".

>7 John5918:

Unfortunately John, it appears that you are never happy unless you are whipping up some storm from the most innocuous responses.

How did we get from *attends Mass and avoids heretical views* to rapists and pharisees?

What is a milkman? Someone who delivers milk. Oh, hold on, but he may poison milk or rape young children. You can hopefully see the absurdity of this.

And while we are on the subject of pharisees - during the times of Jesus' ministry I am sure there were many - probably a large degree - who not only preached the truth but lived it.

Finally being humble, the act of humility, applies to thoughts too.

Anyway, apologies for the mild rebuke, I mean well, but am clumsy in delivery.

>7 John5918:

Well, I'm simply pointing out that those descriptions are minimalistic - inadequate if you like - and that I still often wonder what constitutes "a Catholic in good standing". It was not intended to be confrontational. Could we not see that as an invitation to explore the definition, rather than to offer a rather defensive rebuke?

A milkman does not have a Catholic code of conduct nor a missionary imperative built into his job descrption.

>9 John5918:

A milkman does not have a Catholic code of conduct nor a missionary imperative built into his job descrption.

He does in fact. We all do, infused by God.

>10 LesMiserables:

Ah, so now you are homing in on what it means to be a Catholic. We are Catholics by our baptism.

>11 John5918:

We are Catholics by our actions.

>12 LesMiserables:

Well, I think you'll find that theologically we are Catholics by virtue of baptism. But you have now reached the point where I started from. Which actions make us Catholic?

>13 John5918:

Baptism is so obvious it is legalistic to name it. Being Catholic is a different matter. The road to hell is wide whilst the gate to heaven is narrow. Being Catholic is much more than a ceremony.

You two seem to be talking past one another but still agree on the core concept.

Well unfortunately it starts with >7 John5918: I can't say I disagree, but...

And the I'm worse when I >8 LesMiserables: Unfortunately John, it appears that you...

Sigh

>15 2wonderY:

Yes. Let's stop talking past each other. I ask what does it mean to be a Catholic in good standing. LesMis and SPPColumbus provde definitions which I do not disagree with but which I find to be minimalistic. So let's explore. LesMis and I both agree that actions are part of it. So again, let's explore what actions. Going to mass on Sunday? And/or showing signs of loving my neighbour, reaching out to the poor and vulnerable, etc? I think it's a fascinating conversation.

>14 LesMiserables:

I don't consider baptism legalistic but sacramental. An effective outward sign of God's inner grace, a visible sign of an inward grace, or whatever the latest precise definition of a sacrament is these days, is not legalistic, it is indeed God's act of grace which makes us memebrs of the Christian community.

I think SPPColumbus actually covered the meaning very well, in saying "a Catholic in good standing ... lives a life of faith (charity, prayer)." One who "lives a life of faith" in "charity" does not rape children (or any person).

The Catechism, using more words, discussing the supernatural sense of faith that gathers and gives life to the faithful, describes faithfulness in these terms:

The supernatural sense of faith
91 All the faithful share in understanding and handing on revealed truth. They have received the anointing of the Holy Spirit, who instructs them and guides them into all truth.
92 “The whole body of the faithful...cannot err in matters of belief. This characteristic is shown in the supernatural appreciation of faith (sensus fidei) on the part of the whole people, when, from the bishops to the last of the faithful, they manifest a universal consent in matters of faith and morals.”
93 “By this appreciation of the faith, aroused and sustained by the Spirit of truth, the People of God, guided by the sacred teaching authority (Magisterium),...receives...the faith, once for all delivered to the saints....The People unfailingly adheres to this faith, penetrates it more deeply with right judgment, and applies it more fully in daily life.”

BTW - to speak to the topic supposedly at hand - current reading - I'm reading the (universal - CCC) Catechism. We have a weekly Catechism study/discussion each Sunday...

Oldest daughter gifted me with Saramago’s The Gospel According to Jesus Christ. I plan to dip into it today. She also gave me a wonderful jacket patch that says “Not today Satan.”

Last evening, we read The Last Straw, illustrated by Vlasta van Kampen. It’s about a proud old camel named Hoshmakaka, who brags about his strength, egged on by the younger camels and so he ends up carrying all the gifts, not just the three we know about.

Today I will share The Christ Child, illustrated by Maud Peterson and Miska Peterson.

Richard Rohr's daily meditation for 23rd December 2018:

We cannot earn God. We cannot prove ourselves worthy of God. Knowing God’s presence is simply a matter of awareness, of enjoying the now, of deepening one’s own presence. There are moments when it happens. Then life makes sense. Once I can see the Mystery here, and trust the Mystery even in this piece of clay that I am, then I can also see it in you. We are eventually able to see the divine image within ourselves, in each other, and in all things. Finally, the seeing is one. How you see anything is how you will see everything.

Jesus pushes seeing to the social edge. Can we see the image of Christ in the least of our brothers and sisters? That is his only description of the final judgment (Matthew 25). Nothing about commandments, nothing about church attendance—simply a matter of our ability to see. Can we see Christ in the “nobodies” who can’t play our game of success? In those who cannot reward us in return? When we see the image of God where we are not accustomed to seeing the image of God, then we see with eyes not our own.

Finally, Jesus says we have to love and recognize the divine image even in our enemies (Matthew 5:44). He teaches what many thought a leader could never demand of his followers: love of the enemy. Logically that makes no sense. Yet soulfully it makes absolute sense, because in terms of the soul, it really is all or nothing. Either we see the divine image in all created things, or we end up not seeing it at all. There is a first epiphany, and gradually the circle keeps moving outward, widening its embrace. It is almost the meaning of life!

The Christian vision is that the whole world is a temple. If that is true, then our enemies are sacred, too. Who else created them but God? The ability to respect the outsider is probably the litmus test of true seeing. And it doesn’t stop with human beings and enemies and the least of the sisters and brothers. It moves to frogs and waters and weeds. Everything becomes enchanting once we have full sight. One God, one world, one truth, one suffering, and one love (see Ephesians 4:4-6). All we can do is participate.

From Richard Rohr today, quoting Brian McLaren:

For centuries, Christianity has been presented as a system of beliefs. That system of beliefs has supported a wide range of unintended consequences, from colonialism to environmental destruction, subordination of women to stigmatization of LGBT people, anti-Semitism to Islamophobia, clergy pedophilia to white privilege. What would it mean for Christians to rediscover their faith not as a problematic system of beliefs, but as a just and generous way of life, rooted in contemplation and expressed in compassion, that makes amends for its mistakes and is dedicated to beloved community for all? Could Christians migrate from defining their faith as a system of beliefs to expressing it as a loving way of life? . . .

For centuries, Christians have presented God as a Supreme Being who showers blessings upon insiders who share certain beliefs and proper institutional affiliation, but who punishes outsiders with eternal conscious torment. Yet Jesus revealed God as one who “eats with sinners,” welcomes outsiders in, and forgives even while being rejected, tortured, and killed. Jesus associated God more with gracious parental tenderness than strict authoritarian toughness. He preached that God was to be found in self-giving service rather than self-asserting domination. What would it mean for Christians to let Jesus and his message lead them to a new vision of God? What would it mean for Christians to understand, experience, and embody God as the loving, healing, reconciling Spirit in whom all creatures live, move, and have their being?

For centuries, Christianity has presented itself as an “organized religion”—a change-averse institution or set of institutions that protects and promotes a timeless system of beliefs that were handed down fully formed in the past. Yet Christianity’s actual history is a story of change and adaptation. We Christians have repeatedly adapted our message, methods, and mission to the contours of our time for example, the Second Vatican Council within Catholicism. What might happen if we understood the core Christian ethos as creative, constructive, and forward-leaning—as an “organizing religion” that challenges all institutions (including its own) as Jesus did to learn, grow, and mature toward a deepening, enduring vision of reconciliation with God, self, neighbor, enemy, and creation? . . .

If such a migration is possible, how would we describe that way of life toward which we are moving?

If we are to be truly Christian, it makes sense to turn to Jesus for the answer.

Of the many radical things said and done by Jesus, his unflinching emphasis on love was the most radical of all. Love was the greatest commandment . . . his prime directive—love for God, for self, for neighbor, for stranger, for alien, for outsider, for outcast, and even for enemy, as he himself modeled. The new commandment of love John 13:34 meant that neither beliefs nor words, neither taboos, systems, structures nor the labels that enshrined them mattered most. Love decentered everything else; love relativized everything else; love took priority over everything else—everything.

Richard Rohr again

our Christianity has become obsessed with what Christians believe rather than how Christians live. We talk a lot about doctrines but little about practice...

Belief or Discipleship?
Tuesday, January 22, 2019

I often say that we do not think ourselves into a new way of living, but we live ourselves into a new way of thinking. I’m not suggesting that theory and theology are unimportant; but I believe that faith is more about how we live on a daily basis than making verbal assent to this or that idea. In fact, my life’s work in many ways has been trying to move heady doctrines and dogmas to the level of actual experience and lifestyles that are an alternative to our consumer culture. In today’s reflection, Shane Claiborne—an Evangelical I deeply respect—invites us to quite literally follow Jesus:

Over the past few decades, our Christianity has become obsessed with what Christians believe rather than how Christians live. We talk a lot about doctrines but little about practice. But in Jesus we don’t just see a presentation of doctrines but an invitation to join a movement that is about demonstrating God’s goodness to the world.

This kind of doctrinal language infects our language when we say things like, “Are you a believer?” Interestingly, Jesus did not send us into the world to make believers but to make disciples see Matthew 28:18-20. You can worship Jesus without doing the things he says. We can believe in him and still not follow him. In fact, there’s a passage in Corinthians that says, “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing” (1 Corinthians 13:1-3, author’s paraphrase).

At times our evangelical fervor has come at the cost of spiritual formation. For this reason, we can end up with a church full of believers, but followers of Jesus can be hard to come by.

One of the reasons that Francis of Assisi is so beloved is that he followed Jesus so closely. In Shane’s words:

Francis did something simple and wonderful. He read the Gospels where Jesus says, “Sell your possessions and give the money to the poor,” Matthew 19:21 “Consider the lilies and the sparrows and do not worry about tomorrow,” Luke 12:24, 27 “Love your enemies,” Matthew 5:44 and he decided to live as if Jesus meant the stuff he said. Francis turned his back on the materialism and militarism of his world and said yes to Jesus.


Shane Claiborne and Tony Campolo, Red Letter Revolution: What If Jesus Really Meant What He Said? (Thomas Nelson: 2012), 9, 42.

Resurrecting this thread after just over a year. I'm currently reading two books side by side, very slowly:

The Universal Christ by Richard Rohr and The Emergent Christ by Ilia Delio.

Both would probably be deemed "progressive", whatever that means. Rohr comes from a Franciscan tradition which sees things somewhat differently from the mainstream narrative, focusing on orthopraxis rather than orthodoxy. Delio seems to follow on from the work of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, looking at Christ in evolution (which is actually the title of one of her earlier books which I haven't read).

Taking the long uninterrupted hours at home and sorting books. I've gathered several by J. B. Phillips.

I put God Our Contemporary on the discard pile, partly because the title no longer attracts me. But mostly because his ideas here have been developed and better expressed in Your God is Too Small. Phillips covers a lot of examples of idols that pass for God.

And I'm dipping into Ring of Truth. He gets very enthusiastic about living scripture - his unexpected experience while translating. His translations were targeted for young people in particular, and he speaks about rubbing some of the lacquer off to get closer to the truth. "I had never realized what a barrier beautiful but antique words had imposed." This particularly strikes a chord with me.
Teaching Confirmation class, I substituted car keys as a metaphor for man's dominion in Genesis 3.

The other book that took my attention is Catholicism by Robert Barron. Discovering that each of the 10 chapters also exist in similar form as episodes in a DVD set, I went looking for them on the internet. Episodes 1 and 6 are available for free. The others must be purchased.
I also found this interesting lecture by Barron - “Aquinas and Why the New Atheists are Right"

I have to confess I'm not reading any explicit spiritual books at the moment, but I am reading The Monastery by Fred Majdalany, an account of the World War II battle for Monte Cassino by someone who fought in it. I was really struck by the following words:

The other world... no longer existed. It was something we'd once read about in a book. The only world was here. And the only time was now. There was no past, present or future. There was only now. We'd always been here and we always would be.

I can identify with these words from parts of my own life experience, when being held hostage under threat of execution, for example, or when locked down in a besieged city under regular bombardment. To stay sane in such circumstances you stop imagining that there is anything for you outside of the here and now. That thought comes back to me again now during the coronavirus pandemic.

The other book that comes to mind at the moment is The Plague by Albert Camus. I remember that when I read it a good few years ago I also found I could identify with a lot of it.

There are certainly seasons for particular reads. I've had the sensation that my random reads are directed from up there in certain cases. I'll find insights in the oddest places and occasionally reverberations on the same specific.

I once ran into the same scripture verse three times in one day, so I thought I'd better write it down and carry it in my pocket. Turned out it was meant for someone else and I was just the vessel.

Too many books to settle on just one at the moment. This loose pile beside me needs to be determined - either discard box or kept for winter reading.

I've got two Edward Schillebeeckx titles here now, and they are keepers. Both published in the 1980s, they are fresh and challenging and remarkably topical.

In Search of the Kingdom of God echoes some of my favorite concepts introduced to me by reading Dutch Sheets. It will be worthwhile to read it from explicitly Catholic perspective.

On Christian Faith jumps right into the debate on whether science replaces God and then whether Christians have exclusive rights to God. It's fast paced and dense with provocative statements.

Hands on my collection of Charles M. Sheldon books today.
I've not read The Miracle at Markham yet; but it raised a smile and an eyebrow on the second page:
"Granby is a town of three thousand people and eight churches, not counting the Catholic."

Later the Roman Catholics are thrown into a scorned pile with Christian Science, Church of God, Free Methodist, United Brethren, Salvation Army and American Volunteers.

I do admire Sheldon's call to true Christian action. I'll be interested in how he addresses these "outsiders" of the Christian community, if he considers it at all. The book is about unifying the denominations, after all. Not in a theological manner, but in practical terms of mission and resources.

Sorting scraps of paper today (I have mountains of scraps of paper!) and found this quote from Peggy Noonan's book John Paul the Great.

Chapter 11 is titled The Great Shame. She spoke to the Catholic bishops in September 2003, and she quotes herself:

"Anyway, I regained my composure and concluded my remarks with some hard advice. I said the leaders of the church should now--"tomorrow, first thing"--take the mansions they live in and turn them into schools for children who have nothing, and take the big black cars they ride in and turn them into school buses. I noted that we were meeting across the street from the Hilton, and that it would be good for them to find out where the cleaning women at the Hilton live and go live there, in a rent-stabilized apartment on the edge of town or in its suburbs. And take the subway to work like the other Americans, and talk to the people there. How moved those people would be to see a prince of the church on the subway. "They could talk to you about their problems of faith, they could tell you how hard it is to reconcile the world with their belief and faith, and you could say to them, Buddy, ain't it the truth."

There now, I can toss that piece of paper.

Her entire address can be found HERE.

She also references a line attributed to Paul Johnson, church historian: "Come on in, it's awful!"

Currently, I am reading Søren Kierkegaard's Either/Or: A Fragment of Life and revisiting Simone Weil's Gravity and Grace.

I pose a question: what are some good books by and/or about Saints? It's a topic of which I'm greatly interested and I would like a guide to begin.