The Lord’s Prayer as chiasmus

Numerous texts in the Bible exhibit the rhetorical device known as “chiasmus,” based on the letter X, where the passage is a mirror image of itself turning on the middle phrase, with corresponding phrases at the beginning and end having some similarity or connection. The classic example is the opening of the Gospel of John.

What if we read the Lord’s Prayer that way? It would produce an interesting effect. Using each phrase, or “line” as it is typically divided, the pairings would go as follows, beginning with the first and last, and ending with the culminating center:

Our Father who art it heaven, deliver us from evil

Hallowed be thy name; lead us not into temptation

Thy kingdom come, as we forgive those who trespass against us

Thy will be done, and forgive us our trespasses

On earth as it is in heaven, give us this day our daily bread

This reading unites in the center of the chiasmus the two most eucharistic and incarnational lines, to reveal the reality of the Real Presence of Christ as heaven on earth (here’s to you Scott Hahn), and the central object of Christian prayer and faith. It also, interestingly, pairs the Fatherhood of God with that ultimate, fearful deliverance from evil, it pairs his holy name with our preservation from temptation, the coming of his kingdom with our forgiveness of those who wrong us, and the working out of God’s will in the earth as the forgiving of our trespasses.

May the Lord hear our prayer, and give us his Son, that we might become people in whom heaven and earth are brought together in sacred mystery.

The unique unity with Christ available in the Eucharist

I was asked by a friend whether I really believe that my feelings about the validity of the Eucharist go beyond academics and affect my daily walk with Christ. Yes, I do. And here’s why.

I believe that the Eucharist brings me closer to Jesus, really and truly unites me with him in a way that nothing else does. I do not believe that this happens because when I take the Eucharist I enter a state of transcendence or contemplation or exhilaration in the Spirit which nothing else can cause (although I do incidentally believe that it will lead me, and has led the saints, into deeper contemplation of Jesus than anything else). Rather, I believe that taking the Eucharist causes the reality of my union with Jesus to happen even apart from my mental awareness of it. 

This is of great practical advantage to my soul: even on days when I am “not feeling it” at church, we can be united. Can you relate to how exhausting it is to need to have a powerful emotional or charismatic experience in order to be near to Jesus? I have grown hungry for something more constant than that.

But on what basis do I say that the Eucharist unites me to Jesus in a way that nothing else can, even apart from any way it helps me to pray and contemplate or enter his presence in spirit? It can be nothing but that it unites me to Jesus bodily—our bodies are joined, and we become one flesh.

“Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church. (Ephesians 5:31-32)

I do not want to be crass, but, in deep mystery, it is true that, as the literal bodily union of a man and woman is the consummation of their unity, so too the bodily joining of us and Jesus is the consummation—the pinnacle, the essence, the climax, the fullness—of our unity with him. 

Jesus said this when he said it is necessary to take his body and blood into us to have his life, and that, if we do, then we have his life, and not only do we abide in Christ, in that sense of resting and hoping in him, but he (mystery of mysteries) abides in us!

So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. (John 6:53-56)

But those who do not eat do not have life in them. So then, I desire to be really and truly united with Jesus in the Eucharist, because I desire eternal life, and because I desire to abide in Jesus, and for him to abide in me, and because I desire that our love be consummated, as a man and woman desire to consummate their marriage bond through the union of their bodies. Thus I do really believe that partaking of the Eucharist will have a profound effect upon my soul. 

It is a great mystery to think that by the act of eating a piece of bread, Jesus would be more near to me than I can bring him with the highest aspirations of my thoughts. But that smacks of the Incarnation itself, when Jesus became flesh, because we, in the futility of our minds, could never ascend to him. Perhaps we should have always expected that the greatest mystery would be worked out through such an earthly means, for “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God” (1 Corinthians 1:27-29), and so that the meaning of Paul’s words would not be tainted in any way by human merit or ambition when he says in the next sentence, “And because of him you are in Christ Jesus.”

The bodiliness of Christ’s body

(This is a harmonization on my previous post on the Real Presence.)

When we eat the Communion meal, what does Christ offer to us? Is it his spirit, or his body? It is his body that he offers us.

But how shall we say he is present with us in this offering? On this Christians differ. Some say that he is bodily present, and others that he is only spiritually present.

But it is nonsense to say that his presence is merely spiritual, for a body is not present when it is present only in spirit. The nature of the spirit is incorporeal, and the nature of the body is corporeal. Therefore, The Spirit of Christ is present in us through that which is incorporeal, but the Body of Christ is present in us through that which is corporeal. A spirit can no more be present as body than multiplication can be covered with mud, and a body can no more be present as spirit than I can throw a baseball and hit bilingualism. We do not say, “Here is the Spirit of Christ in my hand,” nor “Here is the Body of Christ in my mind,” for his body cannot exist in our mind, but only the idea of his body. For “that which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.”

When Christ offers us his body, then, we must realize what it is we hold: no mere thought of him, but Himself, Immanuel Incarnate, with us in body.

The Real Presence of Christ

Many Protestant denominations, such as the Anglican church, hold that in the Eucharist we experience the “Real Presence of Christ,” desiring for Christ to be really and truly present with us when we do this act of utmost communion with him, yet rejecting the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation, that Christ is physically present in the elements. They maintain the doctrine that, in the words of the Anglican 39 Articles, “The Body of Christ is given, taken, and eaten, in the Supper, only after an heavenly and spiritual manner. And the mean whereby the Body of Christ is received and eaten in the Supper, is [only] Faith.” However, I believe this to be contradictory to the belief that Christ is really present in the Eucharistic meal. Let me explain:

We all know that the real presence of a human person is necessarily both spiritual and physical.

On one hand, a person cannot be said to be really present when their body is present, but their spirit absent. Thus we say to ourselves when we kiss a loved one who has deceased moments before, “They are not really here”: for their body is present, yet their spirit is not. And when two lovers are together, if one senses that, even though the other be physically present, their heart is with another, or their mind daydreaming or preoccupied, they will say to them, “You are not really here.”

Neither can a person be said to be really present when their spirit is present, but their body absent. Thus, when we excuse someone for not really being with us at a gathering, we say that they are “with us in spirit.” And when a lover off at war writes home to his beloved, or sings “I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams,” he feels bittersweet longing because his spirit is with those he loves, yet his body is away, so the reality of his presence is unfulfilled. We Christians especially know this because because of our longing while we are separated from our Lord Jesus while he prepares a place for us, for “we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:6), even though his Spirit is with us, whom he has sent as a comforter. Therefore, regarding a human person, where either the spirit or the flesh is lacking, there is not the real presence of the person.

Now, we believe that Christ is a human person, for “he came down from heaven and was incarnate and was made man.” From the moment of his incarnation, the person of Christ has possessed a human nature, inextricably joined to his divine nature in hypostatic union; and having resurrected and ascended into heaven, he reigns there now as both God and man, no less incarnate than he was when he was on earth.

Therefore, how can the Real Presence of the Person of Christ be with us in the Eucharist, if this presence is not physical as well as spiritual in nature? If he does not come down into the bread, as much as we ascend into heaven, then in what sense do we call this presence “real”? 

I would go even further, and suggest that this Real Presence of Christ is necessary for true Christian life–a life of longing in the absence of Christ’s Real Presence, albeit comforted by his Spiritual presence as a sign, leaves one alone in the bodily work of life; and what what one does alone, one can only do by one’s own power. The failure to have Christ bodily with us leads us into a subtle self-dependence, as God ceases to invigorate our flesh and blood, remaining merely as our inspiration. Christ came as spirit and body so that the whole man, body and soul, might be united to him in faith.

Semiotics and the mystery of the Eucharist

I wrote a draft of this a couple of years ago. I saw it again, and thought it appropriate to post now (a bit updated), to dovetail with my next post.

A major difference between Catholic and Protestant theology is in the way that they believe God communicates to man. Catholics believe that the mysteries of grace that God extends to us are chiefly communicated by tangible signs – the sacraments. The seven sacraments of the Catholic church are Baptism, Confirmation, Reconciliation, the Eucharist (Lord’s Supper), Marriage, Holy Orders (Ordination), and Anointing of the Sick. In the performance of these sacred acts, the heavenly graces of God are communicated into reality. Catholics place immense weight on the value of the sacraments as vehicles of God’s grace. In fact, the catechism states, “The Church affirms that for believers the sacraments of the New Covenant are necessary for salvation” (1129).

Catholic doctrine places supreme importance on the Eucharist, the “Sacrament of Sacraments.” “The Eucharist is the efficacious sign and sublime cause of that communion in the divine life and that unity of the People of God by which the Church is kept in being” (1325). All Christians affirm that Christ is the sole basis of our redemption and salvation; the Catholic doctrine venerates the Eucharist precisely because it equates it with Christ. ‘In the most blessed sacrament of the Eucharist ‘the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity, of our Lord Jesus Christ and, therefore, the whole Christ is truly, really, and substantially contained’” (1374). Simply put, participating in Holy Communion is how to receive Jesus because the Eucharist is such a powerful symbol of Jesus that it actually is Jesus. The sacramental sign is necessary to the reality. You cannot get at the reality without the sacrament as a type and form of it that you can experience in the physical world. Thus, the sign is “efficacious” and “causes” the reality of communion with God.

Evangelicals practice the Lord ’s Supper, but they don’t regard these things the same way. They simply say that the ceremonies are special reminders for believers, special moments when God’s power and person are uniquely present, but in a metaphorical, abstract, symbolic sense. Nothing about the actual words or deeds causes the graces that they signify. In fact, in the view of most Evangelicals, believing salvation to be linked to the performance of sacraments is tantamount to “salvation by works” as opposed to “by grace through faith”—that is, no salvation at all. “You must believe and…” is damnable to many an evangelical ear. Faith is more internal and abstract, and does not require a physical action. Born and raised in an Evangelical church, I long thought the Catholic doctrine corrupt. Like the Galatians, Catholics had forgotten grace and bloated the sacraments into a system of good deeds. Granted, that may be true for many who were “raised Catholic” but have a poor understanding of Christianity; the sacraments are able to distract people from the things that they should signify; just as an unintelligent dog will not follow the signification of your pointing finger to the ball you have thrown, but will run eagerly to examine your finger. However, correctly understood, the Catholic teaching of the sacraments as vital is not incompatible with salvation by grace through faith in Christ.

The Institution of Holy Communion is predicted by Jesus in John 6:22-65, and happens during the Last Supper in Matthew 26:26-29 / Luke 22:14-23 / Mark 14:22-25. Suffice it to say that the meaning of Jesus’ statements, “This is my body,” and “this is my blood” is fiercely debated. I have no place at the round-table of scholars of Greek and Aramaic. However, simply making the assumption that Jesus intended to create some kind of semiotic (sign) relationship between himself and the bread/wine, I think I can speak generally about to the issue. French linguist Ferdinand de Saussur proposed a very helpful model of the sign. Allow me to quote from Chandler’s resource:
Saussure offered a ‘dyadic’ or two-part model of the sign. He defined a sign as being composed of:

      • a ‘signifier’ (signifiant) – the form which the sign takes; and
      • the ‘signified’ (signifié) – the concept it represents.

The sign is the whole that results from the association of the signifier with the signified (Saussure 1983, 67Saussure 1974, 67). The relationship between the signifier and the signified is referred to as ‘signification’, and this is represented in the Saussurean diagram by the arrows. If we take a linguistic example, the word ‘Open’ (when it is invested with meaning by someone who encounters it on a shop doorway) is a sign consisting of:

  • signifier: the word open
  • signified concept: that the shop is open for business

The point is that the signifier and signified are unified in the sign. Thus, to say that taking the bread and wine of Communion is necessary for salvation is to say that you must partake of the sign of Jesus’ body and blood, not to say that there is a different source of salvation.

The question, then, is whether physical signs are the means by which God communicates to us. The Catholic church says that they are. According to the Catechism, “In human life, signs and symbols occupy an important place. As a being at once body and spirit, man expresses and perceives spiritual realities through physical signs and symbols. As a social being, man needs signs and symbols to communicate with others, through language, gestures, and actions. The same holds true for his relationship with God” (1146).

I suggest that the Catholic Church is absolutely right about this, and that Evangelicals need to check their semiotics. For Christ is the center of the Christian life, the ultimate means of God’s communication with us, and he Himself is a sign, the Signifier of God, indeed, the Word of God, a physical and efficacious sign like the serpent of old. “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.”

Visible signs: A Protestant defends controversial Catholic doctrines

The Catholic Church has been accused of corrupting the essentials of the Christian faith. Catholics maintain the importance of a priesthood to steward the faith, claim that Baptism and Holy Communion are necessary for salvation, and that Christ is fully and really present in the elements of Holy Communion. Protestants decry these as denial of the priesthood of the believer, salvation by ritualistic good works, and hocus-pocus cannibalism. Although I believe that the Catholic Church has exaggerated some of its doctrines beyond what the Bible teaches, and is encumbered in some areas by centuries of gradual accumulation of pharisaical over-complication, recent inquiries lead me to believe that these accusations do not fully understand Catholic doctrine. Moreover, I believe it is possible to reconcile some of the more controversial Catholic doctrines with what the Bible teaches. Many of the supposed errors of Catholicism can be explained if we make a crucial assumption: that the language whereby God communicates with man is through visible signs. I will explain this idea and show how it works to account for  the controversial Catholic doctrines of the Church, Priesthood, Baptism and Transubstantiation, while showing that these doctrines are not, if properly understood and practiced, a betrayal of Biblical Christianity. The goal for all of this is to show that it is possible for Protestants and Catholics to strive for unity through a deeper understanding of these doctrines. Such unity would be of great value to the church.

Understanding the Sacramental Paradigm

The Catholic Catechism describes the basis for the belief in a visible symbolic language of interaction between God and man: God conveys his grace to man, and man renders his worship to God, by way of rituals that signify spiritual realities and form a bridge of meaning between the temporal and eternal. These signs and symbols are called the sacraments. “A sacramental celebration is a meeting of God’s children with their Father, in Christ and the Holy Spirit; this meeting takes the form of a dialogue, through actions and words” (Catechism, 1146). The core of this philosophy is rooted in human nature.

 In human life, signs and symbols occupy an important place. As a being at once body and spirit, man expresses and perceives spiritual realities through physical signs and symbols. As a social being, man needs signs and symbols to communicate with others, through language, gestures, and actions. The same holds true for his relationship with God. (Catechism, 1146)

Do visible signs usher in heavenly realities? Scriptures can be offered that support and defend the sacraments, and scholars have debated for centuries. Let me offer to broad ideas that verify that we communicate with God through visible signs.

First, the unique miracle of Christianity is that God has communicated redemption to us visibly and entered the physical realm. In Jesus Christ, God came from that which we could not experience to become like us, tangible and understandable to us. That is the heart of the wondrous Gospel—Immanuel, God With Us, the God-Man, the Word and Revelation of the Unseen God! Catholic.org makes the analogy of Jesus and the sacraments:

 The great mystery of the union in Christ of a human nature with the second Person of the Godhead is that the human actions and sufferings of Christ are divine actions and sufferings. The sacraments are a living continuation of this mystery. There are earthly, external signs here which, of themselves, could never acquire any supernatural significance, but the signs of the sacraments have been made by Christ into vehicles of his grace. They effect in men the grace for which Christ made them the sign.

In no other major religion does God Himself so enter the physical. Furthermore, we will have resurrected bodies—again, a redemption of the physical, which is not the same as simply enlightening us to a spiritual plane. Therefore, the very Incarnation of Jesus set the precedent for a sign economy.

Second, we express faith back to God visibly. True faith is not intellectual assent, but a response with “heart, soul, mind and strength.” The New Testament cautions us countless times to express the sincerity of our belief through actions. As James says, “Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he offered up Isaac his son on the altar? You see that faith was working with his works, and as a result of the works, faith was perfected” (James 2:21-22).

There is a fullness, a reality, a consummation that only comes to faith when it is acted upon. Like the old example says, one might believe that the tight-rope walker can carry him across the canyon, but he does not truly have faith until he climbs into the walker’s arms.

If man has both divine and earthly natures, and God came to earth to partake of both, and if man offers back faith through both, then it makes sense that our communication with God would be in a language of holy signs which, by God’s power, themselves bridge the sacred and mundane, to bring our human hearts into God’s heavenly presence.

Controversial Doctrines Understood through the Sacramental Paradigm

The presupposition that visible  rites are the vessels of heavenly realities has given rise to many of the doctrines that Protestants take issue with. However, if we think through this sacramental lens, the doctrines seem less than heretical.

The Church

In Catholicism, the Church, the Body of Christ, is the great sacrament by which God communicates the gospel to the world. The Latin phrase extra Ecclesiam nulla salus means: “outside the church there is no salvation” (Wikipedia). The Catechism interprets this to mean that “all salvation comes from Christ the Head through the Church which is his Body.” Is this adding to salvation by requiring “church membership” as a distinct or separate requirement? I don’t think so. Why? All Christians affirm that there is no salvation without being united with Christ, being “in Him,” and all believe that one is united to the Body of Christ on the basis of faith, and that receiving the life of Christ by grace through faith unites one to the Body of Christ. Furthermore, it is impossible to be a member of Christ’s Body and yet at the same time, not a member.  The difference is that Catholics connect the Body Christ in the mystical sense with the Body of Christ that exists in the world—the church is the visible sign of the mystical reality. The Church is the representation of that entity to which every true believer belongs. So, because Catholics believe that membership in the earthly Body of Christ is sacramentally united with membership in the mystical or heavenly Body of Christ, they do not hold to a separate source of salvation. They simply define the expression of the heavenly reality in more concrete terms.

The Priesthood

In Catholicism, priests, bishops, and above all the Pope are said to represent the office of Christ. For example, priests proclaim salvation during confession, and the Pope speaks with divine authority when he makes proclamations ex cathedra. Is this elevating others to the level of Christ, or granting authority to men that belongs to God?

Not under a “visible sign” worldview. All Christians believe that Jesus is our shepherd and high priest, and that he is continually performing priestly intercession for us before the father, and conveying to us the blessings of priesthood by his spirit.  Catholics believe that human priests are sacramental representations of Jesus, not additional mediators between God and man. Catholic doctrine states that the services of the priest are effective regardless of the worthiness of the priest; rather, they are effective ex opere operato, i.e., by virtue of their being done. This shows that priests do not represent an intermediate gateway to Christ, per se. If they were a gateway, then, like a kink in a hose, a breach in their holiness would damage the services of sacraments administered through them. On the contrary, the priests are representational in their service—meaning that they represent Jesus to the Church, and the Church to Jesus. Just as the Church is the visible sign of the Body of Christ, the priests represent Christ the Head. They bear Christ’s authority and conduct his ministries as the signs of the invisible Christ who presides spiritually over the worship of the church. Thus it can be properly said that it is not the priest himself, but Christ, who conducts the worship of the Mass, and when the priest offers the Eucharist, it is Christ himself who offers Himself as the sacrifice and the feast, even as he did on the Cross. If priests are seen to truly signify Christ, then their role in the Mass, rather than creating unnecessary intermediate channels of grace, increases the immediacy and power with which Christ’s presence and ministry is experienced.

The Necessity of Baptism

Just as the priests visibly signify and communicate to the visible world the spiritual presence of Christ, and just as the visible gathering of the Church signifies the Body of Christ, his Spiritual Community of Worshippers, the sacraments signify the holy exchanges by which God communicates his grace through faith to man, and man offers back faith and worship. Catholics say that partaking of Baptism and Holy Communion is necessary for salvation. “The Church affirms that for believers the sacraments of the New Covenant are necessary for salvation” (1129). In particular, the Catechism affirms that Baptism and Holy Communion are necessary for initiation into the redeemed community of the church.

Is this tantamount to works-based salvation? Is the requirement of participation in ceremonial rites not the same as “works of the flesh,” while the Bible says that salvation is by grace alone through faith alone? Not under a sacramental paradigm. Take Baptism for instance. Is the sprinkling or immersion in water by the priest, an act that is done in order to earn salvation? No, they are acts of faith. The Catechism states:

The purpose of the sacraments is to sanctify men, to build up the Body of Christ and, finally, to give worship to God. Because they are signs they also instruct. They not only presuppose faith, but by words and objects they also nourish, strengthen, and express it. That is why they are called ‘sacraments of faith.” (1123).

Just as before, the Catholic Church simply presupposes that the spiritual reality of faith must be fully realized in a visible expression that “expresses” it. Since the sacraments “presuppose faith,” they consummate it, rather than replace it or add to it. The Catholic Church denies that a sacrament is effective if administered to someone without the right disposition of faith. And yet, Catholics believe that baptism is essential in the formation of full faith in the person. If one refuses baptism (knowing of its existence) he rejects the sign of the reality, through which the reality is consummated. How can one possess the reality if he rejects its manifestation? Consider a man who says that he loves a woman and will never leave her, but refuses to marry her. His commitment could properly be denied. It is the same sort of situation here.

Transubstantiation

The Catholic Church affirms the doctrine of transubstantiation, that in the bread and wine of Holy Communion “the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity, of our Lord Jesus Christ and, therefore, the whole Christ is truly, really, and substantially contained” (1374). The difference between transubstantiation (the Catholic doctrine) and consubstantiation (the Lutheran doctrine) is simply one of semantics: most Catholics will not agree that this means that they are participating in a cannibalistic act of eating the body of Christ on a molecular, cellular level. Catholics rely on the Aristotilian notion of “substance”, in which a substance transcends the sum of its properties or physical descriptors (as wax may change form, but still be wax). Thus the doctrine inevitably abstracts itself beyond crude physicality. Nevertheless, the Catechism states, “the signs of bread and wine become, in a way surpassing understanding, the Body and Blood of Christ” (1333). The elements of bread and wine are the body of Christ, rather than being simply symbols or memorials of Him; though perhaps not “physically” present, Christ can be said to be literally, truly, really, or actually present in the elements.

Why must Christ be so present in the Eucharist? Because it is the visible sign by which we experience the spiritual reality. Again, according to the visible sign paradigm, to participate in the atoning death of Christ in the fullest sense requires that we experience it both mentally/spiritually AND physically, since God’s graces and our worshipful responses are communicated most truly when they are communicated concurrently in both dimensions, not in one or the other separately. Christ’s atonement, eternally true in the spiritual realm, is communicated to our bipartite natures by a means at once both spiritual and, yes, physical, through the elements. Thus properly understood, transubstantiation is a miracle in which the elements of communion undergo a sort of “hypostatic union” that perpetuates the mystery of the hypostatic union of His human and divine natures, and allows us to perpetually experience the fullness of his sacrifice on the Cross.

Dangers and Benefits of the Sacramental Paradigm

 The dangers of excess on the side of the sacramental paradigm are obvious from history. Men can easily forget the signified spiritual truths, and attach slavish obligation to the performance of the physical signs. The signs can easily become “of this world.” Saussure’s semiotics tell us that, if the signs are not properly understood, they cease to exist as transporters of meaning. Without proper teaching and instruction from the word, the holiness of the sacraments will disintegrate and leave only ritualistic shells. This is what drove the Protestant denominations back to the rudiments of the Bible, and that to this day leaves many nominal Catholics without a true saving faith.

However, the sacraments, if taught correctly, have great power to awaken the spiritual life. The frequent problem of the Protestant denominations is that they are plain and uninspiring. They sometimes do not capture the heart with the beauty and sacred majesty of the gospel, because they are so concerned with preserving the intellectual/spiritual side of faith. By bringing the faith into a more tangible, immediate experience, the Catholic can experience God’s presence with the senses and worship with great awe. A visible-sign theology does not necessarily reduce faith—it can increase it. Instead of merely affirming abstract truths, one’s faith is confronted with an array of miracles spread out before him, full of sacred power. So there is much good that can come from the sacramental paradigm.

The Take-away: Seeking Unity

I have attempted to show how some of the Catholic doctrines that Protestants disdain may in fact be reconciled with Biblical faith. My approach has been to highlight the pervasive theme of sacramental economy in Catholic doctrine. I don’t claim that this concept is better than a more straightforward “sola fide” approach to the communication of God and man, but I believe it at least expresses a valid point of view through which we may perceive the Christian faith. Actually I believe that the perfect perspective lies at some mysterious place near the intersection of the many sects of Christianity. That’s why I am eager for Catholics, Protestants, Orthodox, Coptics, and all Christians to examine our faith anew and determine exactly which hills we are willing to die on. What will be worth fighting over when we look back 100 years from now? Or from heaven? There are certainly some things that should be contended for, but there are also many unnecessary divisions in the church. I am eager for the day when the church will reach new levels of unity. Am I going to convert to Catholicism? That hasn’t been the point of this essay. The point has been to expand my and my readers’ idea of what Catholicism teaches in relation to the Bible and in relation to our own denominations, so that we might be more likely to extend a hand of fellowship or sit down to engage in a discussion with Catholics in the future. I hope that you will join me in pursuing this in the future.

Soli Deo gloria.