Monday, May 9, 2011

My love is like a red, red rose.

I suppose the one thing that unites all religious believers is a view of the world that understands human beings to be more than just “flesh and blood”; that there are more things in heaven and on earth than the mere mechanistic cause and effect of scientific explanation.

A scientist could go a long way to explain how all the instruments in the orchestra make the sounds that they do. Another scientist could explain what is happening in the human body and mind when we listen to music. But no one can explain or define the experience completely because the total music experience is more than the sum of its parts. This is, I suppose, similar too – if not part of – that which we call “religious”.

But the “religious” dimension is more than mere emotions. Religion is some sort of explanation for the whole experience we call life; an explanation coupled with prescriptions for making life meaningful, purposeful and, in some sense, “successful”.  Religious explanations are in so many ways totally different from scientific explanations and yet people – particularly in our modern world – are mixing them up.  Amazingly frequently people talk about religious explanations as if they were scientific explanations and then reject them because they fail as scientific explanations. This has led, in our own society, to a tragic loss of the religious sensibility, and in the States and elsewhere a terrifying fundamentalism.

Fundamentalism, very simply, assumes that the religious and the scientific explanation are the same type of explanation and are therefore competing with each other. The obvious example is the stories of Creation in Genesis (yes there are two creation stories).  Seen as scientific explanations they directly compete with theories of Evolution though there is absolutely no scientific evidence that they are true as science  Irrational religion: terrifying!

But worse, the person who sees these stories as mere science misses the profound and important truths which they do contain. As “religious” stories they convey such truths as: that we are dependent upon God; that the relationship between man and woman reflects something within the Godhead; that men and women need the Sabbath rest and (even more important) that the six day world of striving and work only finds its fulfilment when it comes to rest in God. And I could go on. Those creation stories are bursting with meaning as “religious” stories that the “scientific” explanation is incapable of conveying.

I passionately believe that, as human beings, we need these religious explanations to make proper sense of who and what we are. A religious explanation often presents itself to us in the form of a story or a picture. The ultimate religious picture, I would suggest, is the picture of something we call heaven. (It is really worth reading Tom Wright’s book “Surprised by Hope” to help us see that our popular “folk religion” view of heaven is nothing like the Biblical promise of Resurrection). In the New Testament we have the very beautiful and simple story of Jesus’ Ascension. It is a story we know so well that we often forget to ask what on earth it means.

Our mind’s eye picture of the Ascension – reinforced by pop religion and religious art – is of Jesus taking off like Elton John’s Rocket Man to find his new home somewhere “up there”. Of course our mind’s eye picture is not faithful to the picture painted by St Luke in the Acts of the Apostles: “and a cloud took him out of their sight”. We ought to know our scriptures well enough to know that the cloud here represents the presence of God: (The Pillar of Cloud in the Wilderness, the Cloud on Sinai and on the Mount of Transfiguration etc). 

In other words, our mind's eye wants to paint a literal picture. But the truth which is conveyed is NOT a scientific truth. This is NOT a story of Jesus growing wings but, rather, a story about his life reaching its fulfilment in God’s presence. (This hope is held out to us all). If we say that he is “up there” without explaining that we are using language in a different way from the way in which a scientist uses language, then the end result will be that people will simply conclude that religion is not true. They will have shut themselves off from so much of what life is really all about.


Nobody would dream of interrogating the poet to ask him exactly how his love is like that red rose! We need to get ourselves out of the habit of assuming that religious and scientific explanation is the same. Religion is dealing with exactly the same world as the scientist, but it is offering an entirely different type of explanation.



© Peter Bolton

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Mary IV





Assumed Body and Soul into Heaven:


This is the heart of the matter! What happened to that flesh which the Eternal Son of the Father took from Mary? What happened to that crucified humanity? What is the fate of the street children feeding from the waste tips of the wealthy; to the body wracked by the pain of addiction; to the woman whose body has been violated by rape and to the boy who has been abused? What will happen to the victims of torture and terror; the slaughtered of the killing fields and the bodies lost in the mud of Passchendaele?  Is the woman condemned to a life time of beatings doomed to die a miserable, lonely death? Is the hero who fought to save his comrades gone for nothing? Is the life of that wonderful mother who fought so hard in her battle against cancer utterly pointless? What will happen to the child who died the agonising death of starvation?

This is the heart of the matter and the Dogma of the Assumption boldly asserts that third class citizens, those who are excluded, the inferior and the lowly, are to be lifted high. On the Feast of the Assumption we sing Psalm 113: “He raiseth up the poor out of the dust; from the dung-hill he lifteth up the needy” and we echo Mary’s Magnificat: “He casts the mighty from their thrones and raises the lowly poor.”

The Assumption answers the question about what happened to the crucified Jesus: to the flesh and blood, body and soul he took from Mary. But it answers too the question about our own destiny, the fate of the poor: what are we destined for? Dust or glory? And this is why I am a Catholic Christian which is a religion not of “spirituality” but a religion of flesh and blood and reality. Catholic Christianity is not about cosy feelings and personal fulfilment but about the fate of those children scrambling over the scrap-heaps in desperate search of sustenance. Catholic Christianity is the religion of the God who feeds the poor by giving nothing less than himself.



© Peter Bolton

Monday, May 2, 2011

Mary III

Conceived without the guilt of Original Sin:

We must not confuse the Church’s teaching that Mary was conceived without the stain of sin (immaculate conception) with the church’s teaching that Jesus was conceived in the womb of a virgin (Virgin birth or Virginal conception).

The dogma (for so it was defined by Pius IX in 1854) depends on our understanding of Original Sin. The Catechism of the Catholic Church says that original sin is a deprivation of original holiness and justice. (§ 405) It is really important to note that before Original Sin the really original condition of men and women is Holy and Just. The same paragraph describes human nature as “wounded” and of us having an “inclination towards evil”. (Baptism is the restoration of this original state of holiness though we are left with the need to struggle against the tendency to sin).

Our Original Sin, then, is humanity shutting out God. We have closed ourselves to the possibility of God. This “loss of Holiness” is a loss of connectedness with him. This is the tragedy of the human condition: we have lost God, the source of life and goodness and therefore we know death as well as life; we know evil as well as good. Life becomes the unfulfilled longing for God ending in death. We are no longer singing the song we were supposed to sing; we are out of tune with God. And no matter how hard we try we cannot re-connect; we cannot hear the tune; we live in darkness.

If the church claims that Mary was conceived without the stain of original sin then she is saying that God restored her (at the very beginning of her life) to the original state of holiness which was proper to the whole of humanity before the fall. In this sense her holiness is not unique to her but is, rather the “natural state” of all men and women. In other words, were it not for original sin, we would all be like Mary. So she is conceived without this obstacle which so impedes us: she is reconnected to God by God. God opens her heart so that she is open to him in a way we cannot be without his grace. Mary is given the possibility of God; she sings his song.

So what does this say about God? The dogma affirms that God will not be trapped by our sinful condition. We are trapped: we cannot fulfil what is God’s purpose for us but God is not so bound. God is not prevented from acting in the events of human history because we have separated ourselves from him. We see this beautifully illustrated in the story of the Patriarchs: no matter how much  human beings make a mess of things, God still fulfils the promise he makes to us.  Esau sells his birthright and Jacob tricks his father, Laban tricks Jacob and Joseph’s brothers all but do away with him whilst Joseph gets himself thrown into prison and yet, despite all this and more, God’s purpose is fulfilled. God acts in human history and gives his holiness to his people despite them.

And so God gives his holiness to Mary. It is not because of something she has done. This is God’s action so that his purpose for humanity might be fulfilled. And if God has done this for Mary it is because he intends it for us all: what is given to Mary at the beginning of her life is given to all of us when we are re-born in the waters of Baptism. This holiness meant that Mary was capable of receiving God into her heart as she received Jesus in her womb. So too, at our Baptism we are cleansed of our sins and made holy so that we too are able to receive the Word of God and allow it to grow in our hearts. God is not trapped by our sinfulness but even more importantly, nor are we. By the grace of Baptism, we too can sing our Magnificat; we can say “Yes” to God.



© Peter Bolton

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Mary II

Mother of God:

In the early Christian centuries there were fierce arguments about who exactly Jesus is.  The argument mattered to people because they were anxious not to blaspheme God or to underestimate the significance of the Salvation event. It mattered that Jesus was fully God and fully human because affirming that affirmed that human beings mattered to God. What is not assumed, the dictum went, is not healed. The title “Theotokos” or “God bearer”, affirmed at the Council of Chalcedon in 451, guaranteed that when we speak about her son we are affirming that he is Divine (because she is Mother of God) and that he is human (because she is the Mother of God). We are affirming the most intimate union between God and man: that He took our humanity in order that we might be partakers of his Divine nature.

So, of course, the title God Bearer or Mother of God is about us too. If the son of Mary was not God, what use would he have been in bringing us to God? If he were not man, what on earth had he to do with us? This title above all the titles of Mary is about the destiny of humanity. It is THE title which affirms all that the Church wants to say about the person of Jesus who is God made man and therefore it is THE theological statement which affirms our destiny as human become divine. The title adds not one little jot to our knowledge of Mary but it tells us all you ever needed to know about Jesus and about the dignity of humanity. Eastern Christians still speak of the Deification of human persons as our ultimate end: union with God.

It is also a title about our Vocation as individual Christians who, like Mary, are called to bear God to a world which is hungry for his love and his truth.



© Peter Bolton