Prayers for the Scottish Dead

At the conclusion of St. Adomnan's Life of St. Columba, about which I previously wrote, a transcriber appended a fascinating note:

"Whoever may read these books about St. Columba's miraculous powers, pray to God for me Dorbbene that after death I may have life eternal."

Adomnan's work was written c. 690 AD.  I don't know when Dorbbene made his transcription, but he was a successor of St. Adomnan, not more than nine years after the latter's death.  That means that in early Celtic Christianity, often noted for its development free and clear from Roman influence, prayers for the dearly departed were firmly in place -- so much so that a transciber would seek out the prayers of his readers.  

The Catholic apologist will note that prayers for the dead are recorded within the deuterocanon, and that may very well be true.  So I don't raise this point to surprise anyone at the ancient pedigree of such prayers.  I'm just [b]logging my interest in the note concluding the transcription, and the Protestant's inability to attribute this to "papish" influences.

Polycrates: Proto-Protestant, Catholic or Orthodox?

Patiently crawling through Jurgens' The Faith of the Early Fathers, I came upon a fascinating dispute between two ancient bishops of the Church, Polycrates of Ephesus and Victor of Rome (c. 190 A.D.) (Jurgens, Vol. 1, at 82).  Particularly interesting are the sources of authority to which these men appealed or upon which they apparently acted.

According to Eusebius (Church History, Book V, Ch. 23), the bishops of Asia [Minor] followed a tradition dating Easter on the 14th day of Nisan, the date of the Jewish celebration of Passover.  This occurred regardless of the day of the week on which Passover fell.  However, this was "not the custom of the churches in the rest of the world," who instead celebrated Easter on the day "of the Resurrection of our Savior," Sunday (Id.).

St. Victor, the late-second century Bishop of Rome, desired unity in the worldwide Church's observance of Easter (Catholic Encyclopedia: Pope St. Victor I).  He called together the Italian bishops in what is the earliest known Roman synod.  He also "wrote to the leading bishops of the various districts, urging them to call together the bishops of their sections of the country and to take counsel with them on the question of the Easter festival." (Id.).  In the east, he wrote to Bishop Polycrates, leader of bishops of Asia Minor, to induce him to call a council of Asian bishops to address the matter. 

Responses from all fronts but Asia affirmed the celebration of Easter on Sunday.  Bishop Polycrates rejected Bishop Victor's instruction to change the celebration date (Jurgens, at 83).  Eusebius records that Victor excommunicated the Asian bishops in response, and for this strong-arm tactic, received the reproof of several (Church History, Book V, Ch. 24).  Jurgens states that information of this excommunication is "held in considerable suspicion," and that the likes of St. Irenaeus, who pleaded for toleration for the sake of unity, may have held Victor to a mere threatening of excommunication (Jurgens at 82).  

Little else is known about this early dispute, but much of informative value can be derived.  Some have cited the episode as evidence that Polycrates represents a proto-Protestant Bible Christian, and that the Roman Bishop holds no special authority.  (Note that for such Christians it inexplicably does not follow that we must celebrate Easter on Nisan 14.)  But the events surrounding Polycrates' letter of rejection have also been interpreted as showing the opposite proposition, i.e., Victor's headship over "Catholic Christendom" (Cath. Encyc.: Pope St. Victor I). 

So was Polycrates' view of authority proto-Protestant, Catholic or Orthodox?  In his letter rejecting Sunday Easter, he clearly states the authorities by which he refuses Victor's instruction.  He first cites the Nisan 14 Easter tradition in Asia, held by the likes of the Apostle Philip, the Apostle John, Polycarp, and other departed saints, as well as his own bishop-kinsmen who preceded him.  He then states that this traditional observance is "according to the Gospel" and an adherence "to the rule of faith."  He notes his seasoned age, his acquaintance with "the brethren throughout the world," and his having "read through the entire Holy Scriptures," and declares that he is not afraid of the threats of men, but must rather obey God.  Finally, he relies upon the consensus of the "most numerous" bishops he called together upon Victor's request, who approved of Polycrates' own view (Church History, Book V, Ch. 24). 

Polycrates' appeal to having read the Holy Scriptures, and his chiding use of Acts 5:29 ("We must obey God rather than men.") notwithstanding, it seems hard to mistake his view of authority for the Protestant one.  He relied upon tradition and other authorities before Scripture, and he lived in an age of an open canon.  Polycrates hardly can be claimed to have abided by the rule of sola Scriptura.  Whichever of these two adversaries one fancies in this dispute, one is fancying some view of authority other than the Protestant one.

Far more from Polycrates' letter resembles the Orthodox view on authority: a primary reliance on tradition, including an invocation of named Apostles preceding him in his particular church; adherence to the "rule of faith"; the supposed universality of the held belief; the Holy Scriptures; and the agreement of a council of bishops (see Tradition in the Orthodox Church, available here).  Indeed, the authority to which Polycrates appealed in rejecting Victor seems distinct from the Catholic view only in his rejection of the universal authority of the Bishop of Rome.

But whatever we say of Polycrates, we must not lose sight of Victor -- calling for councils, ruling on a divisive matter, receiving obedient rebuke (save for Polycrates).  And ultimately, although the details are lost to history, one must take note of the fact that Victor's determination carried the day.  It is interesting that papal primacy has not been so self-evident as to be a sine qua non of faithful catholicity throughout the ages, especially in the east.  Rather, its necessity in the face of heresy or adversity seems to have propped up progressively germinating forms of the doctrine.  Whatever the lesson of Polycrates and Victor for today, it is much nearer an analogy to the dispute between the separated Orthodox and Latin Churches than to the dispute between the Latin Church and Protestant groups. 

Liturgical Order

I've been on-again-off-again picking away at Jurgens' The Faith of the Early Fathers. I was riveted last night while reading the First Apology of St. Justin the Martyr, penned some time between 148 and 155 A.D. To put this in chronological perspective, Justin was born as little as four years after the Book of Revelation was written (but no longer than within one generation). I was struck in particular by Justin's account of Christian worship (which Tim Troutman noted a while back is the earliest record of the order of a Christian service). [Note: I realize I'm not covering new ground with this post, but still want to make note of it.]

He describes a Christian baptism before beginning his discussion of the liturgical order of his day. "We, however, after thus washing the one who has been convinced and signified his assent, lead him to those who are called brethren, where they are assembled. They then earnestly offer common prayers for themselves and the one who has been illuminated and all others everywhere, that we may be made worthy, having learned the truth, to be found in deed good citizens and keepers of what is commanded, so that we may be saved with eternal salvation. On finishing the prayers we greet each other with a kiss. Then bread and a cup of water and mixed wine are brought to the president of the brethren and he, taking them, sends up praise and glory to the Father of the universe through the name of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and offers thanksgiving at some length that we have been deemed worthy to receive these things from him. When he has finished the prayers and the thanksgiving, the whole congregation present, saying, "Amen." "Amen" in the Hebrew language means, "So be it." When the president has given thanks and the whole congregation has assented, those whom we call deacons give to each of those present a portion of the consecrated bread and wine and water, and they take it to the absent."

He then describes the Eucharist, how it is only for members of the believing community who have been baptized, and how "the food which has been made into the Eucharist by the Eucharistic prayer set down by [Christ], and by the change of which our blood and flesh is nourished [i.e., our assimilation of food into our being], is both the flesh and the blood of that incarnated Jesus."

He then continues, with some repetition, "And on the day called Sunday there is a meeting in one place of those who live in cities or the country, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read as long as time permits. When the reader has finished, the president in a discourse urges and invites [us] to the imitation of these noble things. Then we all stand up together and offer prayers. And, as said before, when we have finished the prayer, bread is brought, and wine and water, and the president similarly sends up prayers and thanksgivings to the best of his ability, and the congregation assents, saying the Amen; the distribution, and reception of the consecrated [elements] by each one, takes place and they are sent to the absent by the deacons."

I have summarized the two overlapping accounts of the liturgical order of Christian worship:

1) Prayers for perseverance unto salvation;
2) Greeting with a kiss;
3) Bread and Cup of Water and Wine taken to the "president";
4) President offers praise and thanksgiving for these things;
5) Congregation assents with an "Amen"; and
6) Deacons distribute elements (and take some away to those absent).

1) Memoirs of Apostles [Gospels] and Prophets read;
2) President delivers discourse on what is read;
3) All stand and offer prayers;
4) Elements of bread and cup of water and wine brought forward;
5) President offers thanksgiving and prayers for these things;
6) Congregation assents with an "Amen"; and
7) Deacons distribute elements (and take some away to those absent).

Without speculating about the precise order of the first few things in each list, we can see the general pattern of a) Scripture reading, b) Homily, c) Prayers, d) Eucharistic elements presented, e) elements consecrated, f) elements distributed. This seems remarkably close to the Mass, as I recall it, and less similar to anything I experience on any given Sunday.

But St. Justin the Martyr is not without problems. Jurgens notes some questionable Christological language (which he is willing to excuse on account of the primitive state of Christological doctrines at that time). Also, I do not believe I could distinguish Justin's statements on works and righteousness from at least semi-Pelagianism (but the same excuse would be availing). It is also interesting how central the "Amen" of the congregations assent seemed to be for the consecration. I do not know if that survived in some form in the mass.

If I Were a 2nd Century Christian

Issue. I think this might be a helpful intellectual exercise: where would I have looked to know what to believe about the faith and the Gospel if I were alive as a Christian in the 2nd century of the Church? [My comments are a rephrasing of those I made recently here.]

Rule. The properly ordained bishops taught the true faith and the Gospel in the 2nd century. Irenaeus tells us, "It is possible, then, for everyone in every church, who may wish to know the truth, to contemplate the tradition of the apostles which has been made known to us throughout the whole world. And we are in a position to enumerate those who were instituted bishops by the apostles and their successors down to our own times, men who neither knew nor taught anything like what these heretics [the Gnostics] rave about" (Against Heresies, 3:3:1 [A.D. 189]).

Analysis. Since properly ordained bishops held the truth, I would have believed about the faith and the Gospel what my local bishop taught me.

While the successor-bishops taught the true Christian faith, they did not do so infallibly (indeed, even the Apostle Peter could err, as Paul made plain in Galatians 2:11 ff. ("When Peter came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he was clearly in the wrong.")). If I had doubts about my bishop's teachings, I would assure myself that all proper authorities are given by God (cf. Matt. 10:1, 2 Cor. 10:8, 13:10, 1 Thes. 4:2, Titus 2:15), and that we are to submit to our proper spiritual authorities (as Paul tells us in Heb. 13:17 "Obey your leaders and submit to their authority. They keep watch over you as men who must give an account. Obey them so that their work will be a joy, not a burden, for that would be of no advantage to you."). Therefore, if in fact my bishop were in doctrinal or practical error, I would have remained submitted to him as my proper authority (trusting that any culpability for such error would rest with him and not me). I would trust that his fellow bishops, speaking for the Church, would eventually call him to correction.

What would my alternate be?
- Declare myself a bishop? I would lack the authority to do that, if the proper authority is one ordained by a successor-bishop of the Apostles.
- Declare myself without a bishop, until my bishop came around to what I understood to be the truth? First, this would not be true submission, but conditional submission ('I submit under my terms'). Second, by what standard would I determine that I would again 'submit' to him? Scripture (as it existed at that point)? Even the heretics argued from Scripture (Irenaeus, Against Heresies, 1:3:6, "And it is not only from the writings of the evangelists and the apostles that they endeavour to derive proofs for their opinions by means of perverse interpretations and deceitful expositions: they deal in the same way with the law and the prophets, which contain many parables and allegories that can frequently be drawn into various senses, according to the kind of exegesis to which they are subjected.").

Conclusion. In the 2nd century, I would have believed that our God loves us enough to give us shepherds on earth, easily identifiable, that we can follow with trust and confidence. I would have followed the local bishop's explication of the Gospel, and submitted myself to his God-given authority.

Protestant Conversions Critique: Tradition

Pardon my being nearly two decades late, but a loved one recently brought to my attention an article by David Hagopian, Esq., entitled Romeward Bound: Evaluating Why Protestants Convert to Catholicism. It was originally published in an OPC church's magazine Antithesis, and is available here (at 11), and here. I would like to comment on this article; as near as I can Google, no one else has.

Mr. Hagopian analyzes, and asserts the fallacy of, a plethora of conversions from Protestantism to Catholicism. His goal is to help "Protestants to come to grips with the reasons why these Neocatholics [(his term)] have set their compasses toward Rome, because only then will Protestants be able to see some of the shortcomings of their espoused faith..." (internal citations omitted).

Tradition. Hagopian cites tradition as that which Neocatholics embrace "above all else". They think Catholicism is far "richer" because of its unique claims to living tradition and the teaching authority of the Apostles' successors.

He attempts to show the fallacy of this reason for conversion by first taking up the Catholic claim that the Church was founded on Peter, the rock. While conceding that "some Protestants" handle Matthew 16 ("for thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build my church") poorly, he addresses the Neocatholic's "unconvincing", question-begging interpretation of this passage. Even if Peter is the "rock" to which Christ referred, "Neocatholics simply assume that Christ thereby gave Peter papal authority" (emphasis in original). They "also assume that this passage grants a right of succession". Finally, "[u]ntil and unless Neocatholics can prove that Christ, in Matthew 16, specifically granted Peter papal authority and that Christ thereby intended to establish an unbroken chain of apostolic succession from Peter onward (both of which are read into the text), they have not met the exegetical burden that is incumbent upon them."

The last sentence speaks of an essential matter that I was surprised to see a lawyer presuppose. His argument is this: Catholics assume that Matthew 16 gave to Peter the papacy, and that this involved a right of succession, but since they cannot prove these assumptions, their position is false. His surprising presupposition is that the "burden" here is "incumbent" upon Catholics. But, I wonder, why would the onus probandi be on Catholics in their interpretation? If the Church Fathers refer to Peter as having some form of primacy over all the Bishops, and if the Church has maintained throughout the centuries that the Petrine See involved a type of succession, it seems instead that the onus is "incumbent" upon the party proferring an alternative understanding of Christ's designation of Peter as "rock" (if one insists on having burdens of proof at all). Perhaps Mr. Hagopian disagrees with this view of history, but in that case he would do well to address the matter, instead of presupposing that Neocatholics bear any burden in interpreting Matthew 16. Also, his argument presupposes that Catholics, or at least Neocatholics, look to prove their positions from Scripture alone.

He does address history enough to dispute Catholicism's claims to be the Church dating back to "antiquity". In a few sentences he seeks to debunk this claim. He tells us that, "along with dispensationalism, Catholicism simply assumes that the church sprang up in the first century A.D.", but that the proper "truly covenantal view" sees that the Church did not begin on Easter, but when God declared a covenant people for Himself (i.e., the Jews). "Thus", to be connected with antiquity, one should be Reformed Protestant.

I believe this is a non sequitur: if one believes that one should be affiliated with the church where it has ties to antiquity, since antiquity began with the Jews of the Old Covenant, one should be Reformed Protestant. How is Reformed Protestantism more affiliated with covenantal Jewish antiquity than, say, Orthodox Judaism? I believe Mr. Hagopian's position is that since the Reformed recognize the spiritual nature of the church as the new covenantal People of God, they therefore share in that nature. And since they share in it, they are the proper tie to "antiquity". But I believe Catholics also recognize that God has maintained a Covenant People from the Old Covenant onward (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, para. 1093). Therefore, they would seem to have a claim to "antiquity" either under the Neocatholics' purported view (back to the first Easter) or Mr. Hagopian's view (back to the Covenant with Abraham).

Also, Mr. Hagopian did not discuss how a 3rd or 10th or 14th century Christian would feel about this proposition on antiquity. I believe Christians of those eras would have held as today's Neocatholic does, namely, that their ties to the Christ-commissioned (new) Church validates their orthodoxy. As Christ is the culmination of the Old Covenant, a proper line of affiliation with Him is a line of affiliation to all of redemptive history.

To be continued (next up: Sola scriptura)...

Always-Church and Physical Manifestation

From the "So-Called Second Letter of Clement of Rome to the Corinthians" (ca. A.D. 150) (as provided in Jurgens' Faith of the Early Fathers, Volume 1, at 43):

"I presume that you are not ignorant of the fact that the living Church is the body of Christ. The Scripture says, "God made man male and female." The male is Christ, and the female is the Church. Moreover, the Books and the Apostles declare that the Church belongs not to the present, but has existed from the beginning. She was spiritual, just as was our Jesus; but He was manifested in the last days so that He might save us. And the Church, being spiritual, was manifested in the flesh of Christ."

The proposition that the always-Church was spiritual throughout history until the incarnation, when it was made physically manifest seems contrary to my Reformed paradigm.

The Westminster Confession of Faith tells us that the Church before Christ's incarnation ("as before under the law") was "visible" only in one nation. Since then, it has become visibly manifest in all those throughout the world who "profess the true religion." WCOF, Chapter XXV, Sec. 2. I take this manifestation by profession to be a spiritualized manifestation; we are spiritually members of Christ's body, not physical members. While membership in the Church was through genetic lineage, a manifestation by descent, it is now passed on through the spiritual condition of professing the true religion. In other words, there is no more physical manifestation of the visible Church, only a spiritual manifestation.

Thus the Reformed view seems to be that the always-Church was physical (with the Jews) throughout history until the incarnation, when it was spiritualized for all peoples.

But the letter I quoted, thought to be the oldest extant Christian homily, does raise an interesting point. It would be an unusual irony if Christ's appearing in the flesh put the Church out of its own.

Eucharist, Episcopal Authority, Relics

I have encountered many a quote from a Church Father on the internet. I recently purchased William A. Jurgens' Faith of the Early Fathers, in the hopes that reading the Fathers in actual print would be more informative; reading ancient texts on an LCD screen somehow provides a disruptive contrast. I have not been disappointed.

I will share an especially meaningful quote here, but primarily want to note that if you've only ever read it on a computer screen, you may be missing something. Buy the Fathers in print!

St. Ignatius of Antioch wrote to the Smyrnaean Church c. 110 A.D. In this letter, he says:

"Pay close attention to those who have wrong notions about the grace of Jesus Christ, which has come to us, and note how at variance they are with God's mind. They care nothing about love: they have no concern for widows or orphans, for the oppressed, for those in prison or released, for the hungry or the thirsty. They hold aloof from the Eucharist and from services of prayer, because they refuse to admit that the Eucharist is the flesh of our Saviour Jesus Christ, which suffered for our sins and which, in his goodness, the Father raised. Consequently those who wrangle and dispute God's gift face death. They would have done better to love and so share in the resurrection. The right thing to do, then, is to avoid such people and to talk about them neither in private nor in public. Rather pay attention to the prophets and above all to the gospel. There we get a clear picture of the Passion and see that the resurrection has really happened."

I simply note that, if I am permitted to take this text at face value, it seems little concerned with a common critique of Catholic Eucharistic practice. I have read and heard Protestants explain that the sacrifice of the Mass is false because Christ can't be both on the altar and risen in heaven. Ignatius says that the Eucharist is the flesh, and the same flesh which was crucified and was raised. If the Protestant critique is valid, it seems unlikely that St. Ignatius of Antioch would not have thought of it within a century of Christ's resurrection.

He continues:

"Flee from schism as the source of mischief. You should all follow the bishop as Jesus Christ did the Father. Follow, too, the presbytery as you would the apostles; and respect the deacons as you would God's law. Nobody must do anything that has to do with the Church without the bishop's approval. You should regard that Eucharist as valid which is celebrated either by the bishop or by someone he authorizes. Where the bishop is present, there let the congregation gather, just as where Jesus Christ is, there is the Catholic Church. Without the bishop's supervision, no baptisms or love feasts are permitted. On the other hand, whatever he approves pleases God as well. In that way everything you do will be on the safe side and valid. It is well for us to come to our senses at last, while we still have a chance to repent and turn to God. It is a fine thing to acknowledge God and the bishop. He who pays the bishop honor has been honored by God. But he who acts without the bishop's knowledge is in the devil's service."

Contrary to the common Protestant characterization of Church under the verse "For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them. (Matthew 18:20)", Ignatius characterizes Church and the validity of its practices by submission to a ruling Bishop (overseer).

Jurgens' compilation then goes to a later writing (The Colbertine Martyrdom of Saint Ignatius, see page 27), likely from the 4th or 5th centuries, which discusses Ignatius' death. Jurgens had already told us that Ignatius died during the reign of Emperor Trajan (likely 110 A.D. also), having been sentenced to the beasts in the arena in Rome, as a martyr. I did not realize the principle of Holy Relics went back so far:

"Only the harder parts of his holy relics were left, and these were conveyed to Antioch and wrapped in linen, as an inestimable treasure left to the holy Church, on account of the grace that was in the holy martyr."

Considering this quote, it has an odd (i.e., foreign to me) sensibility. Grace stays with the body of a holy Christian at their death. If we are both a body and a soul, and if God's grace is with us in life, then why would it evaporate from the body at death? Or, why do we believe that the grace of God that is with us, with what we are, is only with our soul? We do, after all believe that our very-same body will be reunited with our soul. We should expect positive authority before asserting that the grace of God does not inhere in physical matter.

These are my thoughts on Eucharist, Episcopal Authority and Relics, gleaned from an in-print reading of the Fathers.

I wrote this on Catholicity Question's second post today, and thought enough of it to post here:

"[This follows from a conversation about whether Protestants would do well to look back to the first generation of the Church for lessons on Truth.] It strikes me that adhering to paleo-orthodoxy would be far more logically consistent for those of our stripe than is adhering to Reformed "fathers". Again, I see many problems with paleo-orthodoxy, but it still makes more sense than having Luther's or Calvin's works on your shelf next to scripture, and using [those] (effectively, even if you don't admit it) as the proper, authentic articulat[ion] of biblical systematic theology. The logical conclusion of asserting that the church fell into near-total apostasy leading up to the Reformation is, in my opinion, that the church is never trustworthy whenever viewed removed from it's primitive days. *Hence, primitivism seems more logical than fallible developmentalism.*"

I guess I like that little term that popped into my head, "fallible developmentalism" (maybe it's not even my term... who knows...). I suppose some prudent Reformational students will dog on me that I fail to understand the real essence of the Reformation. They're quite possibly right. But to my simple understanding, you either fully trust the Spirit's hand in doctrinal development, or you trust His involvement somewhat less than fully. If there is no reliable litmus test of what is "Spirit Approved", then primitivism is a safer haven.

Mary And The Fathers Of The Church

Finished! I finally made it through Fr. Luigi Gambero's Mary and the Fathers of the Church.

While Fr. Gambero is easy to follow, I think I read this book in three different segments. I had to put it down for major life events like a move and law school finals, but also because at times it was deeply difficult emotionally. As a non-Catholic, I did not find the early Church evidence to compellingly point toward modern Catholic Marian expressions and teachings. But I don't think compelling me or making an argument was the author's intent; it should be insightful and edifying for a Catholic reader.

Fr. Gambero ended with John Damascene (d. ca. 750). It wasn't until he covered the later Church Fathers, and only by looking East, that clear expressions of Mary's mediation of all graces, her Assumption, and her Immaculate Conception began to emerge. But giving doctrinal development the room it requests, this late arrival is not of major moment for me.

What was difficult was the opening chapters, which described the spring of Marian developments from which the Church Fathers later drank, the apocryphal Protoevangelium of James. When I read this opening, it was a time when my wife and I were a bit more caustic in our discussions about Catholicism and Orthodoxy. She thought that I was buying books only to learn arguments to support what I had already decided to do in my heart. And I wish it could have been that easy. But even in my time of eagerness, I struggled with the effect this apocryphal text later had. I learned how it "cast an undeniable spell over the Christian mentality of the first centuries" and "profoundly conditioned Christian liturgy, preaching, popular devotion, and art." From it we are told the names of Mary's parents, their sterility, Mary's premature birth, and Mary's presentment at the Temple. Many miraculous events are also described.

For one inclined to panic at the drop of a Marian needle, this was like a cherry bomb dropped into my trousers. It was just too much to handle, and I stopped reading this book further. I'm glad I've been able to get through it since, but still feel anxiety over the influence that this (largely tall) tale had on the Church.

I guess I need to reflect more on the belief that the Holy Spirit allows the Church to preserve and develop doctrines. This could ease my concerns over the use of texts that were outside the deposit of faith as major sources for later development.

However, concerns remain. Marian development strikes me as having a unique historical attribute. While there was great and often painful hedge trimming done in other areas of doctrinal development (for example, anathematizing predestinarianism and semi-Pelagianism alike), I don't think there was similar hedge trimming related to Marian excesses. I was hoping to see in this book that there had been some tension between various ancient scholars on the proper roles and attributes to ascribe to Mary. Instead, I found none. That may be the way the Holy Spirit has chosen to commend a truth. I simply note that it appears different from the development of other doctrine.

Mary Forgive Me? Grant Me Heaven?

St. Germanus of Constantinople, famous for not submitting to Emperor Leo III's iconoclastic rule, recorded in his prayer to Mary, "Do not despise petitions which have been uttered by an unworthy mouth. On the contrary O Lady glorified by God, considering the love with which we say these things to you, grant us forgiveness of sins, the joy of eternal life and freedom from all faults. (Homilia in Sancta Mariae zonam, as translated in Glimpses of the Church Fathers by Claire Russell)"

This fits with the overall tenor of his homily, but for the whole thing you'll have to acquire Russell's work.

I wonder, within Catholicism (and Orthodoxy!), what petition to Mary would "cross the line"? Germanus' expressions of Marian devotion attribute merciful, salvific and sanctifying acts to her. Even granting that God chose Mary to be the Ark-womb of Jesus and the New Eve (countering Eve's introduction of death into the world by introducing Life into the world), I am caught unprepared to imagine a defense of St. Germanus' exuberance. An expression of gratitude to Mary for 'causing' the possibility of New Life differs in kind from a petition to her to grant forgiveness, which of course only Christ Jesus can grant.

I suppose the apologist could contend that Germanus was asking her to "grant" the forgiveness indirectly through her petitioning to her son to do the real effectual granting. But this is not remotely the clear meaning of the expression "grant me forgiveness" or "grant me eternal life." At some point, shouldn't prudent concern for confusing and improperly catechizing the masses outweigh what is hoped to be achieved by this type of request to Mary? After all, this is no small expression, having no small implication on Christology (the purported end of all Mariology).

Nagging feeling, anyone?

Doctrinal Growth In 434 A.D.

Again I have found a gem in Claire Russell's "Glimpses of the Church Fathers." She gives her reader a portion of St. Vincent of Lerins' Commonitorium. Little is known of St. Vincent beyond his writing, but this work dates from 434 A.D. According to Russell, he "is an ecclesiastic writer in Southern Gaul in the fifth century. He died around 450 in the monastery at Lerins."

Chapters 22 and 23 of the Commonitorium comment upon 1 Tim 6:20, "O Timothy, guard what has been entrusted to you. Avoid profane babbling and the absurdities of so-called knowledge. (NAB)" St. Vincent articulates that Timothy is to keep the deposit of faith, to "preserve the talent [i.e., the gift] of Catholic Faith inviolate, unadulterate." The warning against altering this deposit is clear, "You have received gold; give gold in turn. Do not substitute one thing for another... teach precisely what you have learned..." I began to think I had stumbled against some good anti-Catholic literature (oh boy!)... St. Vincent's exposition was clear -- Paul warned Timothy, 'Don't change the deposit! Don't add anything! Teach just what you have been given!'

My surprise at this early testimony lasted only a few sentences. St. Vincent draws a wonderful analogy: the deposit of faith is like a human body, "which in the course of years develops and unfolds, yet remains the same as it was." As much as a grown man looks like the infant he was, so too does developed doctrine resemble the original deposit. But it is still the same body, the same being.

He writes of the process of doctrinal growth beautifully, "For it is right that those ancient doctrines of heavenly philosophy should, as time goes on, be cared for, smoothed, polished; but not that they should be changed, not that they should be maimed, not that they should be mutilated."

And then he hit my jugular with shocking prophecy of how I've come to view Protestantism: "For if once this license of impious fraud be admitted, I dread to say in how great danger religion will be of being utterly destroyed and annihilated. For if any one part of Catholic truth be given up, another, and another, and another will thenceforward be given up as a matter of course, and the several individual portions having been rejected, what will follow in the end but the rejection of the whole?"

Do read on (in the Catholic Encyclopedia link above) to St. Vincent's Chapter 25, in which he gives some biting views apropos to Protestantism, such as "hardly ever do they [here he is refering to heretics] bring forward anything of their own which they do not endeavour to shelter under words of Scripture" and "hardly a single page [of heretical writings] does not bristle with plausible quotations from the New Testament or the Old." Read further still, and you will learn his rule for the right interpretation of Scripture, and his views on the Pope of the Roman See.