Numbers and the Bread of Life Discourse

Dear Theophilous,

I’m not someone who superstitiously puts a lot of faith in numbers. I don’t play the lottery. I won’t go out of my way to avoid the number 13. I don’t really have a favourite or lucky number (although throughout my entire recreational athletic career I have worn the number 7, that’s due more to the fact that when selecting my first ever hockey jersey I chose the sweater with the captain’s C on the front in a moment of 6-year-old vainglory). It’s just that I feel life is too short to spend my time worrying about how the numbers in my life will affect how my day plays out.

All this being said, I do love finding symmetry and patterns in the world around me; something that usually involves number games. One of my favourite number games is to find numerical links throughout Holy Scripture. A few of which (both obvious and obscure) include:

3

The Holy Trinity

The number of persons involved in Original Sin

The number of times God called Samuel

The number of persons involved in the Transfiguration

The number of angelic visits during the Nativity story

12

Tribes of Isreal

Apostles

Elect for Paradise (12x12=144x1,000=144,000)

40

Years the Israelites wandered in the desert

Days that Elijah spent on his journey

Days Christ spent in the desert

Days between the Resurrection and the Ascension

This list is very incomplete. I’m sure there are biblical scholars that have spent their careers looking at these numbers, interpreting them, commenting on them and sharing the wisdom these numbers impart.

As we work our way through the Bread of Life Discourse (Year B – Weeks 17-21 of Ordinary Time), there is another numerical coincidence that I find interesting, to say the least.

As a highlight of his teaching through the entire Bread of Life Discourse Jesus tells the crowds (and us):

Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat of the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever. (Jn 6:53-58)

The Bread of Life Discourse remains as difficult to swallow today as it was in the time of Christ:

Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” (Jn 6:41)

The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” (Jn 6:52)

When many of his disciples heard it, they said, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” (Jn 6:60)

Because of this many of his disciples turned back and walked with him no longer. (Jn 6:66)

It was during my meditation on the Bread of Life Discourse a couple of years ago that this last line caught my attention for it’s numeric value, for which I feel it bears repeating, but with a slightly different emphasis:

Because of this many of his disciples turned back and walked with him no longer. (Jn 6:66)

I doubt that it would take much commentary to make the link between the Scripture context and its numeric value. Disciples no longer walking with Christ in a verse numbered 6:66 … a number associated with Satan (the Beast) in the Book of Revelation (cf Rev 13:18). It is Christ who calls us to abide in Him through the Eucharist, His very flesh and blood; and Satan who pulls us away.

More telling is the exchange Jesus has with His Apostles immediately after the other disciples left Him:

“Do you also wish to go away?” (Jn 6:67)

To which Simon Peter replied:

“Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.” (Jn 6:68)

Through His loving grace the Father has given us the gift of freewill. When Christ calls us to Him in the Eucharist it is for us to decide whether we will fall away and walk with Him no longer, or will we turn to Him because He has the words of eternal life.

The Quintessential Question of our Faith



Dear Theophilus,

In this past week’s Gospel reading (Lk 9:18-24), Christ asks the quintessential question of our faith:

“Who do you say that I am?” (Lk 9:20)

Our entire faith hinges on how we answer this very pointed question.

If, like Peter, we answer: “The Christ of God.” (Lk 0:20), then everything else should fall neatly into place. There can be no further questioning of our faith. There certainly should be no further questioning of what we believe in or how we act morally and theologically.

Christ is asking us to either accept him for all that he is, or to reject him.

It’s on this question that the arguments of our Christian brethren that feel they can pick and choose Christ’s teachings that are relevant to them begin to fall apart. For, if they cannot accept all that Christ teaches, then how can they consider him to be The Christ of God?

How can we not consider the Eucharist to be the source and summit of our faith when Christ told us “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” (Jn 6:51) if he is not The Christ of God?

If Jesus is truly The Christ of God, then how can we not consider the teaching of the Catholic Church to be divinely inspired when, appearing to the disciples after the Resurrection, Jesus said to them “’Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ When he had said this, he breathed on them, (Jn 20:21-22) a commissioning that continues to this day in the conferring of the sacrament of priesthood. A priesthood in the Catholic Church commissioned when Christ said: “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.” (Mt. 16:18)

The teachings simply fall into place once we truly understand what it means to answer Christ’s question like Peter did at his institution as the fist Pope: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” (Mt. 16:16)

The list of what becomes indisputable when we answer this question, Who do you say that I am? is too lengthy to discuss in a blog post, there are 2865 paragraphs in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. It’s all there, and if Jesus is The Christ of God, then each of those paragraphs makes perfect sense.

As Fr. Robert Barron puts it so well (as he always does) in his Catholicism Series, if we do not answer like Peter, then there is very little to differentiate Christianity from the other world religions. If Jesus is not The Christ of God, then he is little more than a prophet, like Elijah or Mohammed, who have had (or claimed to have had) a revelation from God. If Jesus is not The Messiah, the Son of the living God, then he is little more than a new Buddha who has fond another path towards enlightenment. If Jesus is not The Christ of God, then could he be the next incarnation of Vishnu, come to teach us how to attain Moksha?

This is the quintessential question of our faith. How you answer it forms the core of what you believe and compels you how to act on those beliefs. So,…

Who do you say that He is?

Facing Temptation - Turning our Humanity Towards God



Dear Theophilus, 

Lent has only begun and already I feel the temptation to break with my Lenten promise. I shouldn’t be surprised really, my whole life I’ve noticed that the more I deny myself of something, the more desirous for it I become. 

Perhaps I should cave in to temptation. I’m only human after all, and these are human inclinations I’m feeling. The world tells me that to not succumb to my human nature would make me less than human – or at least incomplete in who I am as a human. 

Christ tells us the contrary – that by not giving into our temptations, we become elevated above humanity. By not giving into our temptations, we are bringing ourselves closer to reunification with God. 

Jesus knew all about temptation and how succumbing to it would lead us away from the Father instead of towards the greatness he intended for us: 

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. (Lk 4:1-2a) 

What we tend to forget in this well-known story of the temptation of Christ is that Jesus was not only divine, but he was also completely human in nature as well. Although his divinity gave Christ the fortitude to overcome temptation, his humanity suffered from it. When the devil tempted Christ during those forty days, his human flesh was just as tormented as yours and mine during this Lenten season. 

He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over he was famished. The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘Man does not live by bread alone.’” (Lk 4:2b-4) 

Here Christ is tempted, like we are, to fulfil our materialistic desires – to become a Messiah of earthly things. For most of us who live in the comfort of western society, we’re no longer tempted by hunger, except to excess, yet we still hunger for material things. Once one desire has been met, we quickly move on to long for the next great thing that promises us happiness. Like Christ, by saying no to all our materialistic whims and fancies, we acknowledge that our existence isn’t about this world, but the next. That we must prepare of hearts not for the bread of this world, but for the bread of eternal life. As Damian Goddard so profoundly stated: He who refused to turn stones into bread, rolled away the stone to become our bread. 

Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, “To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, and it will all be yours.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’” (Lk 4:5-8) 

Wouldn’t life be easier if we had power and authority over others? Wouldn’t it be grand if we could have others be at our beck and call? Sure, but at what cost? How many others must we step on to climb the ladder of success? With great authority comes even greater responsibility – can we handle that in our human frailty? How many times have we heard someone in a position of authority bemoan that life was so much easier when they were a simple servant? Did Christ not show us by washing the feet of the Apostles that the path to greatness is through servitude? When confronted by Pilate’s statement of authority, did Christ not calmly rebuke him by explaining that all earthly power is given because the Father has willed it?  

We need to remember that Christ is not an earthly Messiah, come to liberate us from the political ties that bind us. Christ’s authority is far greater than our earthly realm, and if we are called to an allegiance to our earthly leaders, how much greater should our allegiance to the source of their power be? When pride calls us to search out a position of authority, we need to be like Christ and humble ourselves to a role of servitude. 

Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written, ‘He will command his Angels concerning you, to protect you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’” Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’” (Lk 4:9-12) 

In our cynical age seeing is believing. If it can’t be proven through modern science or if we don’t see it with our very eyes, we call into veracity the matter at hand. How foolhardy we are, though, in that we ignore Christ’s 2000 year-old teaching to St. Thomas: Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe. (Jn 20:29) 

Keep this in mind when the sceptics tell you that it’s humanly impossible for anybody to keep their Lenten observance. You don’t need to prove it to them by announcing your Lenten promise to them, rather cherish your belief in Christ with the inward, silent knowledge that it is possible. Know that by turning away from temptation, you are not turning away from your humanity, but rather turning your humanity towards God.

Catholicism and my e-Reader



Dear Theophilus,

I received a Kobo e-Reader for Christmas 2011. As a traditionalist, I was a bit dismayed at the idea of giving up the comfortable weight, feel and smell of real books for the light, sleek lines of technology. I also mourned the loss of giddy anticipation while waiting for a package of ordered books to arrive in the mail or a tranquil afternoon spent leafing pages and reading back covers in a traditional bookstore.

Seven months later, I’m a convert. Although I still enjoy picking up the odd book now and again (there’s still a stack of novels under my bed), I thoroughly enjoy the ease my Kobo gives me in finding the titles I want to read at a much cheaper price. I also have to admit that I like it that they’re in my hand immediately, giving instant gratification to my bookish addiction. I’m also reluctantly enamoured with the text-size function now that bifocals seem to have become a necessity.

The vast library of Catholic classics (and contemporaries) available at my fingertips also excites me. Titles that are long out of print or simply not carried by my local bookstore are readily available. In the case of the classics, they are often offered at the best discount going – free (or at least under $1).

Since Christmas, my library has grown with the following titles:

• Explanation of Catholic Morals (John H. Stapleton)
• Heresy: Ten Lies They Spread about Christianity (Michael Coren)
• Orthodoxy (G.K. Chesterton)
• How to Listen when God is Speaking (Mitch Pacwa S.J.)
• The Path to Rome (Hilaire Belloc)

and my virtual bedside table is covered with similar titles:

• Didache (the 12 Apostles)
• Summa Theologica (St. Thomas Aquinas)
• Europe and the Faith (Hilaire Belloc)

plus whatever Catholic title or author I find as I troll Catholic blogs, e-Book stores or that are suggested by friends. Titles I hope to share with you as I discover the wonderful world of Catholic e-Books.

Why the Catholic Church is the Source of Truth



Dear Theophilus,

In trying to defend and explain Catholic teaching recently, I was asked why the Catholic Church should believe that it has a monopoly on the Truth. The person asking was a self-professed ‘None’, claiming to be neither Catholic nor any other denomination – just simply a Christian trying to figure out what Christ would want us to do. His biggest bone of contention was that he thought the Catholic Church to be exclusionary with its doctrinal laws and that Christ would want to include everybody. I agreed with my interlocutor wholeheartedly, unfortunately he had a hard time understanding that it is not the Catholic Church that excludes individuals, but rather the individual sinners that chose to exclude themselves from the teachings of Christ through the Catholic Church. This is when the question of the Catholic Church being the holder of God’s Truth was asked.

I knew that a simple answer of Christ building his Church on the rock of St. Peter and the subsequent genealogy of papal succession wouldn’t cut it as an answer. Nor would either Christ’s commissioning of St. Peter with the keys to heaven or the sending forth of the Apostles be sufficient. I’m pretty certain that the person asking the question already had the answer he wanted to hear in mind – that only a personal Christ known through the Bible could express the Truth, and not the College of Cardinals.

I was left scrambling for an answer coming from his own perspective to convince him. It was only 2 days later that I found an appropriate way to answer the question on the primacy of the Catholic Church while reading How to Listen When God is Speaking by Mitch Pacwa, S.J.

My line of argument had to start from common ground, a belief that we both held – that God, our Father, is the creator of heaven and earth and that Jesus Christ was his Son. Agreeing upon this we could then recognize the divine nature of Christ and his oneness with the Father and the Holy Spirit in the Blessed Trinity. Although the mystery of the Trinity is difficult to get one’s head around, there is nothing in this statement that any Christian would deny – even the staunchest anti-Catholic Protestant.

From here we need to ask ourselves: Whom did Christ come to teach? The answer being all of humanity. Jesus taught mainly through parables, using the language and symbols the people of his time and place could understand. These parables have been handed down to us through scripture to be read and applied to our contemporary lives. However, and this is important to the point of the Catholic Church having the ability to unpack the lessons of the parables for us, after teaching the parables to the crowds, Christ would then take the 12 Apostles aside and teach them how to understand the deeper meanings of the parables so as to be able to explain them to those who seek the Truth (Mt 13:16-23, 36-43 and Jn 13:17-20). From this we can acknowledge that although Christ is the undisputed source of the Truth, his apostles became his preferred source for the interpretation of the Truth for the lay people.

The question for us remains, however, of how this authority to interpret Christ’s teachings has been handed down throughout the ages in the Magisterium of the Catholic Church? To answer this we need to examine how Jesus wanted his teachings to be handed down and interpreted. To know this, we join Jesus and the Apostles at the table of the Last Supper where Christ promises them the guidance of the Holy Spirit:

“When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that will come. He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.” (Jn 16:13-15)

This was reaffirmed for the Apostles when Christ appeared to them in the locked room after the resurrection:

Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” (Jn 20:21-23)

It’s amazing that these same words are said to Catholic priests 2,000 years later when they are ordained as the Archbishop breaths on them.

This conveyance to the Apostles of knowledge and ability to understand and interpret Christ’s teachings is reiterated when he appears to them after the resurrection in Luke’s Gospel (Lk 24:45) as well as at Christ’s Ascension into heaven (Acts 1:8).

As we continue to read the Acts of the Apostles, we learn of the great deeds that were done in Christ’s name and how the Early Church developed in Jesus’ absence, handing down Christ’s teaching from one generation to another. We cannot begin to believe that these holy and righteous disciples, infused with the Holy Spirit, would have deviated from Christ’s intent. As Christ’s teachings were transmitted by the disciples from one generation to the next, they were guided, as Christ promised, by the Holy Spirit to form the doctrines of the One Holy and Apostolic Catholic Church of today. A Catholic Church that can trace the source of its teachings to the 12 men who, breathed on by the risen Christ, came to understand the scriptures so as to speak the Truth.

If we truly believe that Jesus Christ is the head of the Church on earth (as all Christians are called to believe), then we must also believe that the Apostles and their descendants – the Catholic Church – were called to carry out His will until the end of time.