The books of the Bible each have their own innate beauty because each is the inspired word of God, but that is not to say that the individual reader may not have different preferences for one book over the other. This is usually the case with the four Gospels. For me, my favorite is the Gospel of Luke because it gives us one of the two infancy narratives (Matthew does also), it is full of parables and stories (as in Matthew also), and the Passion narrative is one where Jesus continues to minster throughout his own suffering as he makes his way to Calvary (rather different from Matthew). The Book of Job is another standout for me among the Scriptures.

We do not know who wrote the Book of Job, but it was likely written between the 7th and 5th centuries BC. The book centers on numerous tragic events that happen to Job, who himself is a good and holy man, and these events are the source of great suffering for him. The book contains varying discourses from Job, his neighbors, and finally from God. In the first reading for this Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, we hear of Job’s frustration, sorrow, and even anger at the events that have happened to him and the direction that his life has taken. Towards the end of the book, God speaks to Job in a wonderful, vivid discourse, reminding Job, and us, that God’s ways are far beyond us. At the end of the book, God makes all things right for Job, yet there is one thing in reading the Book of Job that you will find lacking: an answer to the question of why do bad things happen to good people.

This question is as old as time and if I had an answer for you I would be selling books and appearing on talk shows. We can delve into philosophy and theology to address this question and we can come up with some answers but they will not be definitive and many will not find them satisfactory. Fully grasping the problem of evil, especially concerning the innocent, is something that none of us will be able to fully this side of heaven. While we may not be able to answer the question, that does not mean that there is nothing to do in the face of suffering and evil.

This Sunday finds us continuing in the first chapter of Mark’s Gospel. Jesus is preaching and healing, the crowds are coming to him, and in the midst of it all he attempts to briefly get away. Our translation says that his disciples “pursued him” but the actual Greek is closer to “hunted him down.” The crowds were eager, desperate to get to Jesus because they recognized in him the ability to make things better: to cure, to forgive, to heal, and to console. Jesus leaves his solitude and goes back into the fray of the crowds who have been searching for him. The crowds knew that Jesus could make a difference. Do we believe the same when faced with suffering in our own lives?

When faced with suffering, we want it gone, we want nothing to do with it; that is a natural reaction. In dealing with suffering, when deciding where we turn to or where we go, is God one of those options, or, rather, shouldn’t God be our automatic “go to?” Jesus tells his disciples in this Sunday’s Gospel that preaching the Kingdom is why he has come and so he sets off. The coming of the Kingdom is about our liberation from the power of sin and the cares of the world. With this proclamation, the Lord also God’s desire for our good through his healing actions and his generous compassion.

The good news for us is that whenever we turn to God in the face of suffering, he is already turning towards us. God does not will our suffering and while God will not always address our suffering in the way we might want him to, he will always be present in it as he was to Job and as Jesus was to the crowds. The Psalmist this weekend reminds us that God “heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” You may not have an answer for why bad things happen in life, but in the midst of sorrow, pain, and loss, God will draw near to you, to love you and to console you. In the end, on the other side of heaven, he will make everything right as he did for Job. In the meantime, make sure that you are always seeking to draw near to him, whether in joy or in sorrow.

Father Christopher House is the Rector-Pastor of the Cathedral and serves in various leadership roles within the diocesan curia, specifically Chancellor and Vicar Judicial.

As cited in the Catechism (No. 2043), the Precepts of the Church maintain that each person has the duty to support the material needs of the Church. Of course a person fulfills this obligation according to his abilities. The Code of Canon Law also states, “The Christian faithful are obliged to assist with the needs of the Church so that the Church has what is necessary for divine worship for apostolic works and works of charity end for the decent sustenance of ministers” (No. 222). However, the Church does not mandate a “tithe” as such of any percentage of income or other resource.

The word tithe comes from the Anglo-Saxon word teotha meaning “a tenth. ” The first mention of a tithe in the Bible occurs in G e n e s i s w h e n Melchizedek, a king and a “priest of God Most High,” offered a sacrifice of bread and wine in thanksgiving for Abraham’s victory over several enemy kings. As an o ff e r i n g t o God, A b r a h a m g a v e Melchizedek “a tenth of e v e r y t h i n g . ” (Co n f e r Genesis 14.) However, this tithe was not seen as i n i t i a t i n g some new practice, but rather as fulfilling an established custom. Apparently, one tenth of one’s bounty was customarily given to the priests in their service to God.

 The Torah laws prescribe the offering of tithes A person offered to God, or “tithed,” one-tenth of the harvest of grain of the fields or the produce of fruit of the trees, one-tenth of new pressed wine and oil, and every tends firstborn animal of herd or flock (Leviticus 23 30-33. Deuteronomy 12:17. 14:22-29). Such tithing recognized that God had graciously bestowed these blessings upon man, and man in return offered a thanksgiving sacrifice of one-tenth of the “first fruits.”

The Book of Numbers also records how God prescribed that the Levites, the priestly class of the Jewish people were entrusted with these tithes: “To the Levites I hereby assign al} tithes in Israel as their heritage in recompense for the service they perform in the meeting tent” (Number 18:21-24). Therefore, these tithes were contributions offered to the Lord and distributed to the Levites for their support.

Interestingly, the practice of tithing whether as a sacrifice in honor of God or as a tax in payment to a ruler was common among the ancient people of Greece, Rome, Lydia, Arabia, Babylon, and Persia. Some archaeologists suggest that the portion one-tenth constituted the tithe because the number ten was the basis for the numerical system and thereby signified totality. Since God governed totality, any blessing received from it was a gift of God, and an appropriate act of thanksgiving one-tenth-ought to be returned to God.

In the early history of our Church, the priests depended upon the generous support of congregations for their sustenance. This custom was based on the New Testament instruction: Jesus taught the apostles to depend upon charity when He sent them on mission “Provide yourselves with neither gold nor silver nor copper in your belts; no traveling beg. no change of shirt, no sandals no walking staff. The workman after all, is worth his keep. (Mt. 10 10). St. Paul also instructed the early Church community to provide for the needs of their priests “Do you not realize that those who work in the temple are supported by the temple and those who minister at the alter share the offerings of the altar? Likewise, the Lord Himself ordered that those who preach the gospel should live by the gospel” (I Cor inthians 9:13- Such support, of course, was spontaneous and within a person’s means.

However, as the Church grew, the Church enacted laws to insure such support, based on the precepts of the Old Testament. The first recorded legislation is found in a letter of the Bishops assembled at Tours, France m 567 and the canons of the Council of Macon in 585. The Church viewed tithes as in accord with divine law since they were instituted by God Himself. The practice of tithing fluctuated throughout Europe. After the Protestant Reformation and then especially the French Revolution, and the growing secularization of civil government, mandatory tithing fell into disuse.

In the United States, churches have relied on the voluntary contributions of the faithful. Prior to Independence, a different situation existed. During the early colonial period in those areas governed by France and Spain a mandatory “tithing” was sometimes imposed which supported the Catholic Church. In the same way, in the English colonies tax revenue was used to support the Church of England.

 Although we may not have a rule of tithing, we do have the duty to support the needs of the Church, whether at the international, diocesan or parish level. Each of us should evaluate what we do “give back to God” through our support of the Church and charitable organization. For example, we should ask, “Do I give to God each week at least what I spend on entertainment, such as movies? Do I give to God at least one hour’s worth of my 40 hour pay check?” St. Paul in his Second Letter to the Corinthians (8:1-7) praised the generosity of the faithful in Macedonia: “In the midst of severe trial their overflowing joy and deep poverty have produced an abundant generosity According to their means — indeed I can testify even beyond their means — and voluntarily, they begged us insistently for the favor of sharing in this service to members of the church. “Each of us should be more of a “tither” than a “tipper” in returning a portion of our bounty back to God.

Father William Saunders is pastor of Our Lady of Hope parish in Potomac Falls, Virginia. He is dean of the Notre Dame Graduate School of Christendom College. The above article is a “Straight Answers” column he wrote for the Arlington Catholic Herald. Father Saunders is the author of Straight Answers, a book based on 100 of his columns, and Straight Answers II.

“I just want you to be happy.”

These words are some of the most confusing in all of man’s vocabulary. Through those simple words, many lives have been restored. However, through those same words, many lives have been wrecked. To take an extreme example, imagine a man with an addiction to heroin. The man who gives him his fix states these words. The man who drags him kicking and screaming to a local rehabilitation program states the exact same words. Yet the end results of both situations are vastly different. As another example, a husband and wife decide to get divorced and they both say to one another, “I just want you to be happy,” yet the lives of the children will never be the same.

Philosophers, pastors, teachers, and mentors have echoed man’s natural desire for happiness since the beginning of time. In many philosophy 101 classes, regardless of culture, ethnicity, religion, or creed, this is the first principle from which our attempts to make sense of the world flow. The desired end is always the same, but it is often the road to that end that marks the great difference.

Fr. Robert Spitzer once laid out four levels of happiness after reviewing Greek and Christian writers. These are: laetus, felix, beatitudo, and sublime beatitudo. Laetus is happiness in a thing, perhaps food or a new toy, but this happiness is short-lived and we know it can’t completely fulfill us. Felix is a happiness based on competition, such as “I am better at math than Lucy,” but this happiness is unstable as the constant pursuit to outdo those around us, should we fail, could lead us bitter and broken. Beatitudo comes from our altruistic behavior and seeing the good in all those we come into contact with; however, while this happiness is better than felix, we might make our happiness contingent upon being everything to everyone. Lastly, sublime beatitudo is the full perfection of happiness, particularly the fullness of the transcendentals: beauty, truth, and goodness.

With this in mind, any person in their right mind would naturally ask, “How do I attain the highest level of happiness?” So often we get stuck on the first level of happiness and focus on accruing numerous things, nice houses, big cars, etc., but this has been shown time and again to be a false sense of contentment. As the sage spiritualist Jim Carrey stated, “I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it’s not the answer.” We’ve seen the seemingly irrational suicides of men who had every bit of laetus, like Chester Bennington and Chris Cornell, who in the eyes of the world ought to have been the happiest men on planet earth. In America, during arguably the most affluent era of history, only 33% say that they are happy overall.

Yet time and again we see the desire for fame, wealth, and honor listed as non-negotiables for a fulfilling life.

The next stages of happiness, felix and beatitudo, which are certainly steps in the right direction, can still potentially come up short in true, interior fulfillment. Felix, for example, can help a man or woman’s drive to be excellent in their work and their pursuits. Competition is a healthy passion which can motivate us to do things we never dreamed of. However, it can also lead to an unhealthy fear of our inadequacies and put us in depression. Beatitudo is also healthy and a great reminder that we indeed are called to live for others. This sort of happiness can lead people to start soup kitchens or build homes for the homeless, but it has also led to violence in the name of helping the helpless.

I think many of us would agree that we all ought to be aiming for sublime beatitudo, and I’m sure many of our readers can easily see the role that a relationship with Christ will play in the growth of our overall happiness; however, with the rise of the nones who have very little interest in religion as a source of happiness, how is it that perhaps we can and ought to use this natural desire for happiness to better engage the path of virtue as a first step in the process of evangelization?

My assertion is that we must have a robust apologetic of happiness.

This apologetic would aim to awaken the senses of the interlocutor to the vast expanse of potential happiness that is offered because of the very fact that they are human. This apologetic could not rest on the esoteric religious experience as many of the “nones” we would encounter have already experienced religion in their own subjective way and have decided to step away. So simply telling them that Jesus is what will make them happy will probably either be brushed off as it reminds them of the childhood religion they left, or it is so abstract of a concept that they have absolutely no context from which to understand the statement.

Rather this apologetic would need to focus on what is important in the lives of those we want to reach. In the book Churchless, put together by the folks over at the Barna Group, there’s a poll that was taken in which the most important life goals of the unchurched were listed. The top four are: staying in good health, career success, being a good parent, and being comfortable financially. Within those goals, there is a healthy mixture of laetus, felix, and beatitudo. Now what I am suggesting is that as evangelists we need to be able to speak directly to these types of concerns. How can Christianity offer to deepen good health, career success, money, and parenting to such a degree that the religiously unaffiliated cannot ignore it? How is it that making Jesus the Lord of our life practically applies to these concerns and affects them in such a way that the start of evangelization and an introduction to Christ might become a real possibility? How is it that we can begin with laetus, felix, and beatitudo in order to introduce the highest happiness, sublime beatitudo, which is Christ Himself as the fulfillment of beauty, truth, and goodness?

The apologetic of happiness would by necessity begin with a recognition of our desire to be happy. Money, health, and being a good parent all stem from our natural desire to live a life of happiness. The beauty of the Christian thing is that the vision of these aspects of human life is that of balance. Do we need to work hard and make money? Yes. Do we need to be concerned with our physical health? Yes. But Christianity deepens our understanding of these goals. It teaches that money is needed to provide but not to fulfill, and that while seeking physical health requires self-discipline and can assist in overall well-being—both excellent goals to attain—the healthiest man alive isn’t necessarily the happiest. Christianity does not negate these things. Rather, they give them a deeper meaning and a healthy sense of detachment so that we don’t seek these good things as if they were sublime beatitudo itself.

Money, career, and health, all aspects of the first two levels of happiness, can disappear in an instant. We’ve seen numerous men and women who have these things take their own lives or live in utter depression for years. This isn’t to say they aren’t important but rather to put them in context. Indeed, these are good and wonderful aspects of human flourishing; but again, they are not something that lasts forever.

One that stands out to me is the desire to be a good parent. Now you are beginning to reach the third level of happiness. In the Ted Talk by Dr. Robert Waldinger, What makes a good life? Lessons from the longest study on happiness, we learn that after seventyfive years of research, they found that one thing is better equipped than most to make us happy: good relationships. He states that good social connections lead to happier and physically healthier lives. The problem is that what we want is a quick fix. But that isn’t the nature of relationships. Relationships are hard work. They require sacrifice and an emptying of our own egos. Community and family life is the foundational principle of a happy life, and I believe that in the necessity of an apologetic of happiness, we need to offer the abstract ideal of human happiness, but then equalize that with the very practical reality of having a deep relationship with those we intend to evangelize.

Climbing the levels of happiness requires us to slowly eschew our own faults and failings, and to recognize that perhaps what we thought made us happy is only the first step. This ladder can often appear as a difficult climb ahead, so when we use the words, “I just want you to be happy,” we need to be viscerally aware of the fact that the happiness we are presenting is going to hurt, in the sense that our egos will be tested, but also restore in the loving embrace of Christ’s divine life which can best be found in the sublime beatitudo.

Jared Zimmerer is a Catholic author, speaker, blogger, husband and father of 6 and the Director of Outreach and Mission at Word on Fire Catholic Ministries. He holds a bachelor’s degree in Kinesiology, He also holds a Master’s Degree in Theology from Holy Apostles College and Seminary.

How can someone have authority over my stewardship?

This week in the Gospel we are learning about Jesus’ authority. The Gospel tells us how Jesus departed from the traditional habits of the teachers in the synagogues to teaching with new authority. Of course, his authority came from God, but people were “astonished” because this occurred early on in his ministry and was not the norm. In the second part of the Gospel, Jesus expels a demon. But also in non-traditional habit for the day, he does so much quicker, not relying on long ceremonies or ordeals which often did not work. Jesus did not need to rely on ceremonies because He had the authority of God, the same authority we referred to earlier in the Gospel. The positive reaction from the people when He ministered with this authority started to build their trust in the Lord, the same trust we should have with him.

God is the authority in our lives. In fact, while we may personally discern our stewardship practices, he is the real authority that reminds us that all we have, is what is needed. In most instances who has authority also has priority. This authority is linked to a Christian Steward’s way of life. Stewards consider giving their first fruits in return for all the gifts they have received from God. Each breath we take, each child we hold, each family member we cherish is a gift. A gift we are to return.

With God at the helm of stewardship, how could anyone go astray? But, as many of us know, we have. The culture seems to have lost the voice of authority. We have lost the authentic sense of giving. We give because we are told to by some other authority. There is a carrot at the end of that gift, not a holiness achieved. For example, in speaking with a group of friends who are parents of young children, I heard of the responsibilities to give time and money to this or that. However, the conversation had a tone of frustration or anger, like “how dare the school ask me to give more.” Despite knowing charity is needed to support many of our Catholic missions, we typically need to be reminded to do it, and even asked. I wonder what a community looks like when everyone is freely giving? Giving with no “checkbox” next to their name, giving without condition, giving to the fullest extent, freely, without reminders and without the need to ask for more because more is always given.

Part of an interesting exercise I get to be a part of each week, is watching my daughter “withdraw” from her piggy bank to share what she has with the Parish. In no organized fashion (clearly accounting might not be in our future) she takes a handful of her coins and throws them into her purse, never hesitating or counting. Her measurement is the size of her hand, but in comparison to what she has, that is close to everything. She like many other kids, have a natural ability to give. Often without asking, if they see someone in need they try to help. Sadly, when many adults see someone in need we avoid eye contact and try to go the other way. There is so much we can learn from these little people in our lives. Sure, they may not have the bills to pay, the responsibilities we have, but they do know the value of giving. Understanding that it was God wants for them and as authority in their lives, they act to please Him first. What authority are we placing before God’s in our lives?

Katie Price is the Coordinator of Stewardship for the Cathedral.

No, the tagline for this article is not a mistake nor are we jumping the gun because, believe it or not, A s h We d n e s d a y a n d t h e beginning of Lent is less than three weeks away. With that in mind, I thought it might be good for us to being to turn our minds toward this holy season. Like many things in life, what you get out of Lent will depend on what you put into it and, with Lent, attitude is everything. I will confess that in my younger days that I saw Lent as nothing more than a forty-day slog through drudgery and Friday nights of limited options for going out to eat; once again, attitude is everything. So how do we see/approach Lent?

Lent is a great love story. It may not seem to be so on the surface but what is the season all about? If we first focus on sacrifice, self-denial, and penance then we will be placing our focus in the wrong area. Lent is a great love story because it is about a God, our God, who has a love for us that is unbreakable, unrelenting, and inexhaustible, even though we are guilty of rejecting his love time and time again. The selections that the Church gives us from the Scriptures demonstrate this. We are reminded that God has chosen us to be his own and that he has done this is a wonderful way in his only Son through baptism. Through sin, we have squandered the grace that God has given us through this sacrament, but Lent is about a call to return to that grace again. This is what the first four and a half weeks of the season speak to, from Ash Wednesday until the Fifth Sunday.

The second part of Lent continues to tell that same great love story but recalls how this love of God was perfectly manifested in the Paschal Mystery of Jesus, that is, in his passion, death, and resurrection. The fifth week of Lent transitions us to Holy Week which ends with the triumph of Easter. It is at this glorious feast that we renew our baptismal promises, having focused on allowing God to renew the grace of that same sacrament in us throughout Lent.

Sacrifice and self-denial are our responses to the gift of God’s grace that is offered to us for our renewal. The penances and pious acts that we may choose to adopt are not ends in themselves, but acts by which we seek to root out in our lives what does not belong so that the grace of God may find a welcome place deep in our lives. The same is true about the reception of Ashes on Ash Wednesday. The ashes we receive are nothing more than the ash of old palms that has been blessed. There is nothing mystical about the ashes in themselves. What is important about the ashes is that we receive them as an outward sign of an inner desire to change our lives, to be converted back to right relationship with God. Ashes and pious acts of sacrifice and self-denial must come from a genuine desire to change; if not then these acts are empty.

There are many things that we can do for Lent: add daily Mass to our daily routine, pray the Stations of the Cross, ready the Scriptures daily, participate in giving to CRS Rice Bowl, give alms in the special collections for charity, give your time to a good cause, add time for daily prayer, and the list goes on and on. Whatever you may do or not do, make whatever choice you do in the hope of growing deeper in the love that God has for you. Lent is not about what do I have to give up but rather how can I respond to the Lord’s call to turn back to him. The first reading of Lent on Ash Wednesday begins God’s word spoken through the Prophet Joel: “even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart.” Make sure that this coming Lent is about your journey going deep into the grace, love, and mercy that is freely offered to us by our God through Jesus.

Father Christopher House is the Rector-Pastor of the Cathedral and serves in various leadership roles within the diocesan curia.

The relics of holy people – parts of the body after death , item sused during life – are a fundamental part of mankind’s religious imagination

One of the world’s most remarkable Christian relics, the right forearm and hand of St. Francis Xavier, the great 16th-century Jesuit missionary, is on a pilgrimage across Canada this month.

We hosted the relic in Kingston, Ont., this week, with thousands venerating the relic in our cathedral, after the students at the chaplaincy on campus completed an all-night prayer vigil in the presence of the relic. No doubt the enormous number that came by day were the fruit of the prayer by night.

English Canada’s religious culture is largely shaped by a Protestantism that does not emphasize the relics of the saints. In a secular culture that does not recognize saints, their relics hold no interest.

But it is humanly impossible for a culture to exist without relics. Even those who turn murderously against God need their relics. The communists drenched the soil of Russia with the blood of tens of thousands of priests, burned their churches and attempted to abolish their faith, only to install in the Kremlin their own unholy sepulchre, with Vladimir Lenin still on display for his dwindling faithful. The real holy sepulchre in Jerusalem is, of course, empty, which makes all the difference.

Others simply lose interest in the things of God, and flock instead to the hall of fame to see the sweat-soaked jersey of this superlative hockey player, or the puck that scored that historic goal. An entire global restaurant chain, The Hard Rock Café, was built on the premise that a burger is better when dining in the presence of Eric Clapton’s guitar.

Biblically the power of relics goes back to the defining moment of the Jewish people, the exodus from Egypt, when Moses carried the bones of Joseph, son of Jacob (Israel), from slavery toward the promised land. The prophet Elisha’s bones were the occasion for a corpse returning to life. In the New Testament, we find that even handkerchiefs and aprons touched to St. Paul were brought to the sick for their healing.

In Islam, hairs of the Prophet Muhammad are treated with great reverence and preserved in several Islamic holy places.

This universal desire to honour relics shapes the noble practice of visiting graves, and keeping as heirlooms items used by beloved relatives — often prayer cards, books, jewelry or clothing. Today, the cutting edge of the funeral industry fashions new jewelry out of cremated remains.

So it should not surprise that when important relics from Christian history are taken on pilgrimage, the response of the faithful is both numerically impressive and profoundly moving. And among relics, the forearm and hand relic of St. Francis Xavier is one of the most impressive. There are few relics — short of incorrupt bodies, which are miraculously preserved from normal decomposition — as large. The body of St. Francis Xavier itself is incorrupt, venerated for more than 400 years in the cathedral of Goa, India, the site of his most impressive missionary work. It is only the forearm and hand that is kept in Rome, and which is now visiting Canada.

The pilgrimage is being organized by Catholic Christian Outreach (CCO), a movement of full-time missionaries on uni – versity campuses, which is another sign that the young faithful are often more inter – ested in their religious tradi – tions than their parents. But the pilgrimage is for everyone, and when the relic visits the St. Francis Xavier parish in Mississauga, Ont., on Sat – urday — a parish with many immigrants from Goa in its history — it will be all generations on hand. Indeed, one of the missionary couples of CCO had a baby boy last week and named him Xavier.

It’s a rare honor — and responsibility — for Canada’s young Catholics to host such a continental tour. The relic itself must be accompanied at all times, even on flights between cities, which is why it travels in a seat on the plane, not as cargo. The young man accompanying the relic, D’Arcy Murphy, noted that it is like the Stanley Cup in that way. Except that after 9/11, even the Stanley Cup goes into the (special) luggage hold. And except that it is unlikely that after 465 years it will be still around.

The visit of St. Francis Xavier’s relic has occasioned much curious and informative news coverage, which is to the good because it tells the true story of religion in Canada, namely that tradition is more attractive to young people than innovations, and that immigrants are making our country more religious, not less. I often visited St. Francis Xavier’s relic during my years of study in Rome. Having it in Canada is like welcoming an old friend for a visit — and introducing him to thousands of new friends.  Father Raymond J. de Souza is a chaplain to Newman House, the Roman Catholic mission at Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario. Reprinted with Permission by Catholic Education Resource Center

Why? There are many reasons for this unreasonable view of reason, not least because reason can threaten what we believe, because it’s not emotionally stimulating, because some view it as manipulative, and because it’s hard work.

2  Reasoning may cause me to change my beliefs. By its very nature, reasoning stimulates the intellect rather than the emotions. Pseudo-reasoning can be employed to manipulate people. But authentic reasoning takes work, especially when an issue is complex, or laden with passion. We have minds. We are able to think, and reasoning helps us to think more clearly in the sense of conforming our thinking to reality. Man, as St. John Paul II observed in Fides et Ratio, is unique in his ability to reason: “Within visible creation, man is the only creature who not only is capable of knowing but who knows that he knows, and is therefore interested in the real truth of what he perceives.”

Reasoning may not validate “the wisdom of the world”, as authentic reasoning proceeds from the Creator, while “the wisdom of the world” proceeds from human/temporal motives that are often at odds with truth.

Just because someone has scientific training doesn’t mean they are good reasoners. I’ve worked with scientists and engineers my whole career, and have experienced (and contributed) plenty of lackluster reasoning.

Some of the best, widely read reasoners of the twentieth century — G. K. Chesterton, C. S. Lewis, and Fulton Sheen — were intentional Christians. Faith linked to reason is more aligned with reality/creation than faith that ignores, or is dismissive of, reason. Not to say that goodness increases with better reasoning skills, but to the extent that one becomes a better reasoner, and better aligned with reality/creation, one ought to experience an attraction to truth. And while goodness may prevail in the absence of a regard for reasoning, it’s easier for someone to be manipulated when reasoning is absent, or scorned.

In a word, reasoning helps us to see creation more clearly, as it truly is. Scrupulously weighing evidence, considering different perspectives, separating evidence from speculation and dissimulation, making sure arguments are logically consistent, avoiding ad hominem attacks, tamping down emotion — challenging, even for practitioners of the art of reasoning.

As with any skill, reasoning must be learned and practiced. In a recent Wall Street Journal review of Alan Jacobs’ new book How to Think, Barton Swaim states: “What makes Mr. Jacobs so refreshing is that he considers bad thinking not as a cognitive problem but as a volitional one. The problem, he thinks, isn’t one of ‘overcoming bias’. Everyone is biased, especially those who think they’ve overcome their biases. ‘The fundamental problem we have may best be described as an orientation of the will: we suffer from a settled determination to avoid thinking’…Mr. Jacobs insists we must try harder.”

Right reasoning works from reliable evidence to conclusions, so learning to distinguish between reliable and unreliable evidence is essential. One of the most bizarre things you’ll ever hear is that we’re composed of atoms that were produced inside stars billions of light years from Earth — atoms that may have been part of a dinosaur two hundred million years ago, or part of an olive tree in Jesus’ Garden of Gethsemane, but the evidence suggests this is so. Reliable evidence can lead us in many directions, some familiar and some unfamiliar, though most of the time evidence has to do with matters more mundane than where atoms originated, and is more likely to confirm what we believe if we are already inclined to rely on reason.

We may accept inconclusive evidence when we need to reach a conclusion, or if in a situation in which not taking action may produce dire consequences. In such cases, conclusions might be provisional. As for consensus, it’s worthy of consideration, but consensus isn’t evidence, and is often wrong.

Distinguishing between evidence-based conclusions and speculation isn’t easy. Speculation is a marvelous human talent, but when it adopts the veneer of evidence it impedes reasoning. An example is a Wall Street Journal article entitled, “Recent Hurricanes Strain U.S. Towns’ Aging Sewer Systems”, in which the article states: “Hurricanes Harvey and Irma…exposed the failings of aging sewer systems that were unable to cope with the heavy rainfall and flooding.” There was nothing in this article, including the “expert” opinions, that connected the flooding problems in the Houston region with aging sewers. In fact, these sewers simply weren’t designed to handle such an apocalyptic storm.

Another example is the progression from reliable evidence of conditions on other worlds that may favor life as we know it, to speculation about the existence of life there, without clearly separating what is known (evidence) from what isn’t (speculation). While the muddying of boundaries between evidence and speculation is often inadvertent, when dissimulation is practiced, manipulation is intended. Sometimes, dissimulation weaves reliable evidence and falsehoods to produce a convincing fabric, and because dissumulators know human emotions can trump reason, they are good at stirring our passions.

Practiced reasoners are more likely to distinguish evidencebased conclusions from speculation, and are less susceptible to dissimulation, but, paradoxically, the better we become at reasoning, the more we are aware of our human limitations, including our intellectual limitations.

Civility is enhanced by a commitment to reasoning. A practitioner of reasoning is concerned with the evidence for, or substance of, an argument, rather than the “worthiness” of the person making the argument. The too-common practice of refuting an argument by labeling someone a liar, idiot, or deceiver indicates a deficit of intellectual rigor and character.

Today, we are deluged with information, voices, images, and pitches. It’s not a matter of tuning out, but one of fine tuning our minds to truth, mindful that reason and faith are not enemies. On the contrary, as John Paul II insisted, “reason and faith cannot be separated without diminishing the capacity of men and women to know themselves, the world and God in an appropriate way.”

  Thomas M. Doran is a professional engineer with over 35 years of experience

What we should, or should not, render unto Caesar shapes much of our daily discourse as citizens…

The key word in Christ’s answer is “image,” or in the Greek, eikon… in the New Testament, the “image” of something shares in the nature of the thing itself…. Once we understand this, the impact of Christ’s response to his enemies becomes clear. Jesus isn’t being clever. He’s not offering a political commentary. He’s making a claim on every human being. he’s saying, “render unto Caesar those things that bear Caesar’s image, but more importantly, render unto God that which bears God’s image” — in other words, you and me. All of us.

And that raises some unsettling questions: What do you and I, and all of us really render to God in our personal lives? If we claim to be disciples then what does that actually mean in the way we speak and the way we act?

Thinking about the relationship of Caesar and God, religious faith and secular authority, is important. It helps us sort through our different duties as Christians and citizens. But on a deeper level, Caesar is a creature — a creature of this world — and Christ’s message is uncompromising; We should give Caesar nothing of ourselves. Obviously we’re in the world. That means we have obligations of charity and justice to the people with whom we share it. For Christians, patriotism is a virtue. Love of country is an honorable thing. As Chesterton once said, if we build a wall between ourselves and the world, it makes little difference whether we describe ourselves as locked in or locked out…

Real freedom isn’t something Caesar can give or take away. He can interfere with it; but when he does, he steals from his own legitimacy…The purpose of religious liberty is to create the context for true freedom. Religious liberty is a foundational right. It’s necessary for the good of society. But it can never be sufficient for human happiness. It’s not an end in itself. In the end, we defend religious liberty in order to live the deeper freedom that is discipleship in Jesus Christ. What good is religious freedom, consecrated in the law, if we don’t then use that freedom to seek God with our whole mind, our whole strength, our whole soul and all that we are.

  The Most Reverend Charles J. Chaput, O.F.M. Cap. is the ninth and current Archbishop of Philadelphia. Reprinted with permission

This week’s and last week’s Gospel passages for Sunday Mass are about discipleship. Last week (2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time) the call of Andrew, Peter, and another disciple was proclaimed to us as recorded by John. This Sunday (3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time) we have the calling of Andrew, Peter, James, and John proclaimed to us, as recorded by Mark. There are differences between the two accounts, but the differences are in the details. Both Mark and John agree on the focus of their accounts: Jesus called and his disciples followed.

Again, we are presented with the importance of answering the Lord’s call to follow him. What does discipleship look like? Honestly, that depends on who you ask. When I was on faculty at Mundelein Seminary, before returning to the Cathedral, Bishop Robert Barron, then rector, offered three paths for seminarian formation, but these three paths are not about making priests, they are for making disciples. Discipleship is grounded in a relationship with Jesus and too often people confuse a relationship with the Church as a relationship with Jesus but they are too distinctive realities; our relationship with Jesus is animated and expressed through our relationship with the Church. Do you have a true relationship with Jesus?

The first path of discipleship is finding the center for our lives and there are many people, ideologies, behaviors and so on that want to vie for that position. The center must be Jesus. We cannot be true disciples if he is not center to who we are. Not close to the center and not near the center, but the center; being close may work when playing Horseshoes but not with true discipleship. Jesus Christ, not an idea of him but the actual person, must be the central reality of our lives. His life, love, and grace must be the grounding force of what guides and moves our thoughts, actions, and disposition. If anyone or anything else is occupying the center space of our lives then our discipleship is lacking and incomplete.

The second path is acknowledging that you are a sinner. For some people this may come as a shock, but, yes, all of us are sinners and this acknowledgement is vital for true discipleship. The Scriptures chosen for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time point to this necessity. The beginning of Mark’s Gospel links the acceptance of Jesus’s call to repentance with the ability to accept his invitation to discipleship. If we are unwilling to acknowledge our need for a savior then our discipleship is false. Jesus has come to save us from our sins and to lead us back to the fullness of the Father’s love. Any good and lasting relationship requires that each party know and understand each other. If we cannot, or will not, acknowledge our own sinfulness and our need for redemption then Jesus cannot be for us the savior that he wants to be and therefore we cannot truly know him. Part of our free will means that the Lord will not go where he is not invited in our lives. We must acknowledge our need for his mercy and forgiveness. When we do, then we can truly begin to know him.

The third and final path is acknowledging that your life is not about you. Contrary to what the world tells us, as disciples we cannot have what we want, when we want it, no matter what. The Lord Jesus tells us plainly “whoever would be my disciple must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me (Mt 16:24; Mk 8:34; Lk 9:23).” Our Lord’s life was rooted in sacrificial love and it must be the same for the disciple. Our lives are to be about Jesus Christ and the building up of his kingdom here and now. That is expressed in our love that is shown to our sisters and brother. If we are in love with ourselves then we are not able to walk this third path of discipleship.

These three paths ultimately form one path because all three are about enabling us to fully answer Jesus’s call to follow him. Jesus is calling each of us by name to true discipleship. Are you willing to walk the path to fully answer his call?

We’ve all been in the middle of a conversation, telling a story, asking for advice, or sharing how we’re doing when we notice the person across from us isn’t paying attention. Maybe they’re eyeing some odd character who just walked through the door behind us, or they’re glancing at their phone in response to a text alert, or they’re simply exhibiting that glazed-over look accompanied with an agreeable, I’m-not-listening-but-am-pretending-to head nod. I’m guilty of this, as I imagine we all are. In many cases, it’s not because we don’t care, are bored, or necessarily have something better to do. Instead, it often has to do with the understandable reality that it’s hard, even at times exceedingly difficult, to give our full attention to something or someone for an extended period of time. And although I think the way we consume information these days, in short, easily-digestible snippets of content at an unending rate, definitely doesn’t make things easier in this department, we can’t blame it only on technology (yes, we’ve all heard a thousand times that the digital age is hortening our attention spans).

The reason it’s hard to pay attention—to give ourselves fully to the moment before us no matter what we’re doing—is because it often requires us to turn away from what we’re naturally conditioned to do. It’s hard to keep our thoughts reigned in; it requires an act of the will and a firm commitment to staying focused. And with a weakened ability to focus—to be fully attentive to what’s in front of us—we hinder our relationships with others, the fruitfulness of our prayer, and even our union with God and the knowledge of his will.

It’s well known that the ability to pay attention—or to live in the moment—can increase happiness. An article from the Harvard Gazette, “Wandering Mind Not a Happy Mind,” claims that “people spend 46.9 percent of their waking hours thinking about something other than what they’re doing, and this mind-wandering typically makes them unhappy.” The article examines the research conducted by Harvard psychologists Matthew A. Killingsworth and Daniel T. Gilbert, which according to them, provides some illuminating insights on the peril of roaming thoughts. ‘Mind-wandering is an excellent predictor of people’s happiness,’ Killingsworth says. ‘In fact, how often our minds leave the present and where they tend to go is a better predictor of our happiness than the activities in which we are engaged.’”

This has been well documented by other studies as well, which is why fashionable terms and phrases like “living in the moment” and “mindfulness” have come to the cultural fore. Yet, aside from the psychological and emotional benefits of living in the present, of paying attention, what are its consequences for the spiritual life?

Simone Weil, the brilliant French philosopher and Christian mystic, wrote an essay with the lengthy title, Reflections on the Right Use of School Studies with a View to the Love of God. The essay expounds on the hidden spiritual benefits of focused study in academics. While the essay was specifically intended for students and their commitment to study, the crux of it can be applied to any type of work or activity with which we are called to give our full, undivided attention. In the essay, Weil explains that the attention students give toward unveiling some aspect of academic truth—whether it’s solving a math problem or grasping a theoretical proof—strengthens their ability to commune with God in prayer. “If we concentrate our attention on trying to solve a problem of geometry, and if at the end of an hour we are no nearer to doing so than at the beginning, we have nevertheless been making progress each minute of that hour in another more mysterious dimension. Without our knowing or feeling it, this apparently barren effort has brought more light into the soul.”

And so, whether we are solving a math problem, crafting an email to a coworker, listening intently to a friend, or cleaning a bathroom, by giving whatever the activity is our full attention— and therefore living within that moment—we widen our capacity to hear God’s voice in prayer. “It is the orientation of all the attention of which the soul is capable towards God. The quality of attention counts for much in the quality of the prayer. Warmth of heart cannot make up for it.” — Simone Weil, Reflections on the Right Use of School Studies with a View to the Love of God

Of course, all is grace, and our prayer is always first a response to God’s grace. God is ultimately the one who allows us to commune with him, for as we know, we do not know how to pray as we ought. Yet, we are still called to respond to his outpouring of grace—to his request to be in relationship with him. And we respond by offering the full use of our natural faculties to God and trusting in him to make up in us what we are lacking. If we don’t give God our full attention in our prayer, or in anything else we do which can be offered up to God, we’re only responding half-heartedly to his grace. We are still human though, and we’ll get distracted, find ourselves wandering in thought, and forget that we were smack dab in the middle of a Hail Mary. But, we try as best we can, and that’s all that God asks of us. The more we practice focusing our attention on the ordinary tasks that make up our day, the more we’ll be able to keep our attention fixed on the extraordinary task of listening to God in prayer. “The most potent and acceptable prayer is the prayer that leaves the best effects. I don’t mean it must immediately fill the soul with desire . . . The best effects [are] those that are followed up by actions—when the soul not only desires the honor of God, but really strives for it.” — St. Teresa of Avila

Herein is the beauty of the Christian life, and the implication of the command to “pray always”—everything we do can be offered up to God. And so the more attention and effort we give to anything we offer up to God, naturally, the more beautiful it is to him. This is why he asks for us to do one thing at a time, to live in the moment that he has gifted us with. “Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient for a day is its own evil.”

Our imaginations are great gifts, and the ability to re-live the past and fashion the future in our minds can be used to do great things. Yet, it can also keep us blind to the presence of God if we’re not careful. God does not reign in an anxiety-haunted vision of a hypothetical future, nor is he lurking in a past landscape saturated with regret. God is present to us in the present—in this exact instance of our existence.

As with everything in life, we only have to look to the source of all wisdom, truth and goodness: Jesus. Jesus was present in all that he did. Can you imagine Jesus sitting down with you at a meal and constantly looking out the window or asking you to repeat what you said, distracted and distant, as if wishing he was somewhere else? Or Jesus crafting a shoddy table, being only semi-competent in his woodworking? No. When he bent down to heal someone he looked into their eyes and spoke comfort to their heart. When he went away to be alone with God, he listened fully to his Father’s guiding voice. And on the eve of his Passion, knowing full well that he would be tortured and killed the next day, he remained perfectly present to his disciples, to his friends. He ate with them. He prayed with them. He washed their feet in a spirit of humility and love. Jesus lived presently and gave all of his attention to the work of love before him.

May we commit ourselves to loving God and others with our full attention—trusting that he’ll make up for whatever we’re lacking with his generous grace and love. “Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you.” — St. Augustine

Chris Hazell is the founder of The Call Collective, a blog exploring the intersection between faith, culture and creativity. He holds bachelors’ degrees in English and Economics from UCLA and currently works as a Lead Content Strategist for Point Loma Nazarene University. With a passion for sports, good food and drink, deep conversations with friends, funny stories, writing and seeking to know and love Christ, he attributes all of the blessings in his life—health, family and friends—to nothing but God’s overabundant grace.

Reprinted with Permission from Word on Fire