“Aquae Sanctae Terrae”: The Spiritual Signification of the Waters of the Holy Land (Conclusion)

“Aquae Sanctae Terrae”: The Spiritual Signification of the Waters of the Holy Land

A Seminarian from the Midwest

Conclusion: The Devil and the Dead Sea

(Part 1 may be read here, Part 2 here.)

Aerial view of Dead Sea shore (source)

The Dead Sea

Now there is only one more lake in the Holy Land to discuss — the Dead Sea. Its name betrays where it represents on the spiritual map. The Dead Sea represents Hell. The geographic features alone make a strong case for this theory. The Dead Sea, at -1,411 feet below sea level, is the lowest place on earth. Scripture is filled with allusions to Hell being a place where the damned will go down to. The region around the sea can also be odorous due to the high sulfur concentration. The Dead Sea is about nine times saltier than the ocean, and is unable to support any life.[46] The average summer temperatures around the lake are about 105 F, but at times have been recorded over 120 F.

The Dead Sea is also an endorheic lake, which means it has no outlet. This accounts for its high salinity. Whatever minerals the Jordan pumps into it will never leave unless they are physically extracted, which means the lake will only get saltier over time. It is also worth noting that the only entrance into the Dead Sea is from the north, or the top of the lake. This is fitting, because the only way to get to Hell is to go down to it from earth. Lake Hula and the Sea of Galilee, on the other hand, are exorheic lakes, which means they have both an entrance and an exit point. This mirrors how there are entrances at each end of earth and Purgatory. For earth, you can either go up to Purgatory or Heaven, or down to Hell. For Purgatory, there is an entrance coming from earth and an entrance going up to Heaven. Heaven only has a door at the bottom, which Saint Peter faithfully guards, for those coming up from earth or Purgatory.

The Dead Sea also features negatively in the scriptures. In Deuteronomy, the Dead Sea is referred to as the Salt Sea or the Sea of the Arabah, which means Sea of the Desert or Wasteland in Hebrew.[47] Scholars debate the exact locations of Sodom and Gomorrha, but there is a general consensus they were located somewhere on the shores of the Dead Sea. These cities are synonymous for immorality and are fitting symbols for Hell. We also read that God destroys Sodom and Gomorrha with fire and brimstone (which is the same thing as sulfur).[48] Lot’s wife is also turned into a pillar of salt.[49] The Dead Sea and the surrounding region abounds with these two hellish symbols — salt and sulfur. The wicked city Jericho is only seven miles from the Dead Sea.

Debris beside the Dead Sea (source)

Jerusalem is also only about fifteen miles from the Dead Sea which is striking. One may ask why the holy city of Jerusalem is so close to a place that represents Hell? The answer can once again be found in the topography/geography of the landscape. Although relatively close to the Dead Sea and Jericho, Jerusalem towers nearly 4,000 feet above the Dead Sea and sits about 3,200 feet higher than Jericho. Jerusalem is not part of Hell, but is almost its gate. This is fitting because Jerusalem is where Christ triumphed over Satan and Hell.

Through His passion and death, Christ tore down the gates of Hell and harrowed it. Jerusalem and the gates of Hell serve as a counterpoint to Caeserea Philippi and the gates of Heaven. This image of gates is referenced in Matthew’s gospel, “And I say to thee: Thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”[50] The gates of Hell shall not prevail against the Church because Christ has vanquished them through His passion and death just outside Jerusalem.

The devil’s hatred for water

The final point to note is the Devil’s hatred for water. Although this theory is more speculative, there is evidence to support it. The storm on the Sea of Galilee can be viewed as a challenge from the Devil. He uses water to try to frighten Christ and the Apostles. The Devil is threatened because Christ is on His way to exorcise the Gerasene demoniac (Mark 5). Our Lord is encroaching on what the Devil thinks is his territory. The water in the symbolic Hell (the Dead Sea) is so polluted with salt, it is useless and cannot support life. Moreover, the Dead Sea itself is shrinking at a steady pace.

The real Hell is likely going to be a place without any water. We can deduce this from the story of the rich man in Saint Luke’s gospel. The rich man, languishing in Hell, begs for a single drop of water, “And he cried, and said: Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, to cool my tongue: for I am tormented in this flame.”[51] The Devil hates God and God’s creation and is constantly seeking to destroy it. His favorite way to do this is by stealing souls away from Heaven.

The waters of baptism are a painful reminder to him of souls who are escaping from his grasp and of God’s supreme power. Through baptism, God stamps an indelible mark on a man’s soul. The Devil does all he can to sully this mark, but he cannot erase it. Christ’s side during the passion also sprayed water alongside blood. Saint Thomas says this is appropriate because it signifies the purifying effect of the passion.[52] Water is also used at every Mass which is yet one more small reminder to Satan of his defeat at Calvary.

God is eternal wisdom; nothing He does is arbitrary. The geography of the Holy Land is no exception. Although the historical events that occurred in this region tell us it is important, the land and water themselves tell a story through their physical structure. The physical features of the Holy Land were designed in such a way that they would reflect spiritual places and realities:

• The beautiful region around the Jordan’s headwaters with its fresh mountain air signifies Heaven.
• The malarial swamp of Lake Hula and the scorched land around it, cleared of infidels, represents Purgatory as a place of penance and purgation.
• The sometimes tranquil and sometimes turbulent waters of the Sea of Galilee reflect the many ups and downs we experience in our earthly lives. Christ’s abiding presence, however, always pervades the stormy world. Our Lord is always ready to extend a hand to save us or calm the storm when we call on Him.
• The Jordan River, flowing from its heavenly heights, sanctified by Christ Himself, is a symbol of baptism and the grace which flows down to us on earth. It is a life-giving highway connecting Heaven with earth. It also washes the filth of our sins down to the dregs of Hell.
• Finally, the lifeless Dead Sea, sitting at the lowest place on earth, represents Hell in all its hot and sulfurous misery.

The Jordan and its watershed, therefore, are more than just a sliver of Palestine; they also signify the whole physical and spiritual world.

NOTES

[46] Learning Lesson: A Funny Taste — National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, www.noaa.gov/jetstream/ocean/ll-taste.

[47] Deuteronomy 3:17

[48] Genesis 19:24

[49] Genesis 19:26

[50] Matthew 16:18

[51] Luke 16:24

[52] Saint Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, III, q. 76, a. 6, corpus, trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province, (New York, NY: Benziger Brothers, Inc., 1947), 2443.

“Aquae Sanctae Terrae”: The Spiritual Signification of the Waters of the Holy Land (Part 2)

Joshua passing the River Jordan with the Ark of the Covenant, 1800, by Benjamin West, (source).

“Aquae Sanctae Terrae”: The Spiritual Signification of the Waters of the Holy Land

A Seminarian from the Midwest

Part 2: The Sea of Galilee and the Jordan River

(Part 1 may be read here.)

The Sea of Galilee

The Jordan’s next stop is at the Sea of Galilee, which lies ten miles south of Lake Hula and sits nearly 1,000 feet lower at about 700 feet below sea level. The Sea of Galilee, and all the land north of the Dead Sea in the Holy Land up to the Jordan headwaters, but excluding Lake Hula, represent the earth on the spiritual map. Within this region, Christ became man to redeem the world. There are many stories within the Old and New Testament, especially at the Jordan River and the Sea of Galilee, which highlight God’s intervention on earth. These episodes are primarily associated with the importance of Baptism and the necessity of being part of the Church. The region is also culturally diverse despite its small size, enhancing its global character.

Beginning in the Old Testament, the first major reference to the Jordan River comes in the book of Joshua. The Israelites are finally taking the Promised Land. God commands Joshua to have priests of the tribe of Levi carry the Ark of the Covenant into the Jordan River. [20] When the priests enter the swollen Jordan with the Ark, it parts like the Red Sea, and the Israelites cross safely. Joshua then has twelve men, one from each tribe, carry twelve stones out of the river to commemorate the miraculous crossing. [21] He also has them put twelve stones into the river where the priests held the Ark. [22] The Ark of the Covenant’s presence in the Jordan is a sign of God’s power and blessing coming over the river. This event prefigures Christ’s baptism, which forever sanctified the Jordan. To this day, water taken from the Jordan River is treated as ready to use baptismal water and does not need to be exorcised or blessed like regular baptismal water.

The episode also has implications for the priesthood of the Old and New Covenant. The Levites carrying the Ark into the river represent the priests of the old covenant. The twelve men from the twelve tribes represent the Apostles and the New Covenant priesthood. The twelve stones they take from the river also represent the Apostles and are like the twelve precious foundation stones on which God will build the heavenly city in the book of the Apocalypse. [23] The twelve stones that get put into the river represent the burying of the Old Covenant priesthood, indicated by the verse, “And they are there until this present day.” [24] Once everyone has safely crossed the river, the priests lead the Israelites into the Promised Land, “And when they had all passed over, the ark also of the Lord passed over, and the priests went before the people.” [25] This image is also similar to the New Testament sacrament of baptism. Through baptism, a priest leads a soul dead from original sin, into the spiritual promised land of life with Christ.

Naaman the leper

Another Old Testament story featuring the Jordan occurs in the Fourth Book of Kings. As mentioned before, here we read about, Naaman, the leprous Syrian army commander. Desperately Seeking a cure, Naaman takes the advice of a captured Hebrew girl, and visits the prophet Elisha. Elisha tells Naaman to wash in the Jordan seven times. [26] Naaman is unimpressed, but after some convincing from his retinue, he relents and does as Elisha asks. [27]Naaman is cleansed while washing, “And his flesh was restored, like the flesh of a little child, and he was made clean.” [28] The connection between this story and baptism is obvious. The leprosy represents sin. The sacrament of baptism washes away every trace of sin and bestows sanctifying grace on a soul.

Now is an appropriate time to answer Naaman’s original objection. Why must he wash in the Jordan? It is not on account of the Jordan’s physical properties, but because of what the river signifies. The Jordan, flowing down from its mountainous sources, is a physical manifestation of how God’s grace flows down from Heaven to us in the valley of earth below. The Jordan is like a spiritual highway or a channel of grace. Through the sacrament of baptism, invisible and spiritual realities are joined with the visible and material world. By God’s power, men receive sanctifying grace through water. The Jordan and the waters of the Holy Land are the place where God chose to create this unique union and institute the sacrament of baptism. Looking back with New Testament eyes, it is obvious why God had Namaan wash in the Jordan. The cleansing was a prefiguration of baptism. For Naaman, however, this sign was not apparent. Naaman receives a visible and physical healing, yet he is baffled by the means. He only sees the physical reality, the Jordan, a little line on the physical map. Like everything in the Old Testament, Naaman’s story only finds its fulfillment in the New Testament. The sacrament of baptism, which Christ institutes in the New Testament, provides a spiritual and invisible healing. A healing superior to Naaman’s physical healing. Naaman’s story also shows how the Gentiles will eventually come into covenant with God. Therefore, when we look at the Jordan River on the spiritual map, we see it is not just a little line, but is also a symbol of the invisible grace that is flowing down from Heaven in the sacrament of baptism.

Nicolas Poussin, Saint John Baptizing in the River Jordan, 1630s (source)

John the Baptist and Christ

The Jordan also features prominently in the New Testament. In Matthew’s gospel, John the Baptist is in the desert outside Jerusalem, preaching the baptism of repentance to the Jews. It is possible that John was baptizing in the exact same place that Joshua and the Israelites crossed the Jordan River centuries earlier. Joshua crossed the Jordan opposite of Jericho which is the same area where John was baptizing. [29] One can find evidence for this theory in Matthew’s gospel. When the Pharisees and Sadducees come out to investigate what is going on, John chastises them, saying, “Ye brood of vipers, who hath showed you to flee from the wrath to come? Bring forth therefore fruit worthy of penance.” [30] The Pharisees and Sadducees represent the rottenness of what the Jewish people have become. John, perhaps looking at the same twelve stones which Joshua removed from the river, continues, “For I tell you that God is able of these stones to raise up children to Abraham.” [31] These stones symbolize the Apostles and their mission of making believers of all nations. He also warns of the passing of the Old Covenant when he says, “For now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree therefore that doth not yield good fruit, shall be cut down, and cast into the fire.” [32] John’s baptisms link the Old and the New Covenant. John’s baptisms were only a representation of the true effect of baptism. They were a ritual cleansing for Jews, which represented the cleansing of sins. John himself says, “I indeed baptize you in water unto penance, but he that shall come after me, is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear; he shall baptize you in the Holy Ghost and fire.” [33] It is the baptism of the New Covenant therefore, which will be truly efficacious and wipe out sins.

It is in this context that Christ also comes to John to receive baptism. Since Christ was sinless, He was not coming to be figuratively cleansed of sins. The Catechism of Trent, citing Saint Augustine, argues that Christ received baptism in order to institute it as a sacrament. [34] Saint Augustine writes, “From the moment that Christ is immersed in water, water washes away all sins” and, “The Lord is baptized, not because He had need to be cleansed, but in order that, by the contact of His pure flesh, He might purify the waters and impart to them the power of cleansing.” [35] Christ’s submerging under water also signifies the time He would spend in the tomb between His death and resurrection. Likewise, when men are baptized, there is also an element of death, burial, and resurrection present. The old man, dead to sin, is buried; and the new man, alive in Christ, rises. This new life in Christ is symbolized by a shining white garment which the Church gives to the newly baptized man.

Mosaic from Sant’Apollinare Nuovo in Ravenna (source)

Calling of the disciples

After Christ’s baptism, he retires into Galilee. [36] In Christ’s time, the region around the Sea of Galilee was a cross section of the major cultures of the world. Greeks, Romans, and Jews all lived in the region. Travelers from all over the world also passed through Galilee on the Via Maris, a Roman highway connecting the Nile Delta with Damascus. [37] This cultural mishmash is reflected by the names of the different cities and villages found around the Sea of Galilee. There are the Greek names of the Decapolis district (on the southeast shore of the sea) including, Philadelphia, Hippos, and Pella. There are the Latin names of Caesarea Philippi and Tiberias. And of course there are the Hebrew names such as, Chorazin, Capharnaum, Tabgha, and Magdala. The sea itself also goes by different names. In the Old Testament it is called, the Sea of Chinneroth, Kinerot, or Kineret (Hebrew). Saint Luke gives it the Hellenized name, Lake Gennesaret (Lk 5:1). Matthew and Mark refer to it as the Sea of Galilee (Hebrew), naming if after the district it is in. John calls it both the Sea of Galilee and the Sea of Tiberias (Latin).

In Mark’s gospel, we read of Christ famously calling Peter, Andrew, James, and John to be His Apostles while they are fishing. When viewing the Sea of Galilee as a symbol of the earth or the world, the calling gains added significance. In addition to Christ’s words indicating their new vocation, “Come after to me, and I will make you to become fishers of men”, there is also the physical element of Christ calling His first priests to step away from the noise and distractions of the world so they can devote themselves to serving and being with Him. [38]

Perhaps the most famous incident at the Sea of Galilee is the storm at sea depicted in Mark 4 and Matthew 8. Christ is asleep in the boat while His Apostles battle the storm. The boat, the barque of Peter, represents the Church. The stormy sea represents the dangers of the world. Saint Peter Chrysologus gives his vivid interpretation of the scene:

When Christ embarked, in the boat of His Church, to cross the sea of the world, the blasts of the Gentiles, the whirlwinds of the Jews, the tempests of persecutors, the storm clouds of the mob, and the foggy mists of the devils all descended in a fury to make one storm over all the world. [39]

The Apostles, in the midst of their peril, wake our Lord. Christ rises and rebukes the wind and sea. Through this rebuke, Jesus proves He is the master of the world. Evil has no real power. It is only permitted by God to serve some greater purpose. In this passage, Christ uses the storm to test the faith of the Apostles and manifest His power.

Our Lord and Saint Peter’s night time walk on the sea, recounted in Matthew 14, is another classic story. At first, Peter confidently walks out to Christ, but then he sinks into the water. Our Lord quickly comes to the rescue, and gently chides Peter, “O thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt?” [40] This story teaches us that like Peter, we too can rise above the world and master its perils if we keep our focus on Christ; but when we take our eyes off of Christ, we will sink back into the mire of the world just as Peter did. Jesus, however, is always ready to save us when we call on Him.

Circle of Tintoretto (Lambert Sustris?), Christ at the Sea of Galilee, c. 1570s (source)

Resurrection appearance

The last great event to happen at the Sea of Galilee occurs in John’s gospel after the resurrection. Seven of the Apostles are out fishing on the sea. They have had a bad night, managing to catch no fish. Their fortunes change, however, as night turns to day, and Christ appears on the shore. Our Lord commands them to drop their nets on the right side of the boat. The apostles do as He asks, and immediately their nets are filled with 153 fish. Once they have landed this miraculous catch, John realizes that it is Jesus who is on the beach, and says to Peter, “It is the Lord.” [41] Peter then puts on his tunic, for he was naked (Jh 21:7), and swims to meet Christ on the shore. The rest of the Apostles follow by boat with the miraculous catch. On the beach, Peter proves his three-fold love for Christ, redeeming his three denials. This whole event is rich in meaning and merits unpacking.

The first point of interest is that the Apostles have returned to their old way of life. There is nothing inherently wrong with fishing, but Christ called the Apostles away from this profession for a higher purpose which they seem to have forgotten. Their work is not blessed by God, indicated by the empty night of fishing. Christ, however, brings the morning rays of sun and grace with Him. He tells the Apostles to try dropping their nets on the right side of the boat. When they do so, they catch 153 fish. Our Lord is reminding them of their true vocation, which is to be fishers of men.

Saint Jerome believed the number 153 was significant because that was the number of known fish species at the time. [42] The fish represent all the nations of the world that the Apostles are called to baptize. This idea also aligns with the verse in Matthew which reads, “Again the kingdom of heaven is like to a net cast into the sea, and gathering together all kinds of fishes.” [43] Casting the net on the right side indicates the way of salvation, while the left side indicates the way of damnation. [44] When Peter hears that it is Christ on the beach, he puts on his tunic and swims to meet him. This is another image for baptism. By the submersion in water at baptism, a man is purified and prepared to receive Christ. He then receives a white garment to show that He has been clothed by Christ. Both the submersion and the garment are present in this story (Jh 21:7). This is also an undoing of the incident in Genesis where Adam and Eve, unlike Peter, hide from God in the garden because they are ashamed of their nakedness. [45]

All these stories of the Old and New Testaments provide evidence for how the Jordan River and the Sea of Galilee are symbols for the world. The events that take place at these bodies of water are also usually associated with images of baptism and the Church, which is fitting because these are the means which aid us on earth in our quest for Heaven.

NOTES

[20] Joshua 3:3

[21] Joshua 4:8

[22] Joshua 4:9

[23] Apocalypse 21:19-20

[24] Joshua 4:9

[25] Joshua4:12

[26] 4 Kings 5:10

[27] 4 Kings 5:11-14

[28] 4 Kings 5:14

[29] Joshua 4:13

[30] Matthew 3:7-8

[31] Matthew 3:9

[32] Matthew 3:10

[33] Matthew 3:11

[34] The Catechism of the Council of Trent, (Charlotte, NC: Tan Books, 2017), 179.

[35] The Catechism of the Council of Trent, 179.

[36] Matthew 4:12-13

[37] Rev. Bargil Pixner, Paths of the Messiah, trans. Keith Myrick, Sam Randall, and Miriam Randal, ed. Ranier Riesner, (San Francisco, CA: Ignatius Press, 1991), 55.

[38] Mark 1:17

[39] Saint Peter Chrysologus, Fathers of the Church: Saint Peter Chrysologus Selected Sermons and Saint Valerian Homilies, Vol.17, trans. George E. Ganss, S.J. (New York, NY: Father of the Church, Inc., 1953), 62.

[40] Matthew 14:31

[41] John 21:7

[42] George R. Beasley-Murray, World Biblical Commentary: John, Vol. 36, (Waco, TX: Word Books, 1987), 401-402.

[43] Matthew 13:47

[44] Matthew 25:34, 25:41

[45] Genesis 3:10

“Aquae Sanctae Terrae”: The Spiritual Signification of the Waters of the Holy Land (Part 1)

NLM is grateful to S.K., a seminarian from the Midwest, for sharing this recent paper with us. – PAK

Jordan River as it runs through northern Israel

“Aquae Sanctae Terrae”: The Spiritual Signification of the Waters of the Holy Land

Part 1: The Jordan’s Sources and Lake Hula

Introduction

In the Fourth Book of Kings, Naaman the Syrian, derides the Jordan River when Elisha tells him to wash in it. He declares, “Are not the Abana, and the Pharphar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel, that I may wash in them, and be made clean?” [1]

At first glance, Naaman’s assessment seems accurate. Although the Jordan River, the springs that feed it, and the Sea of Galilee, are attractive bodies of water, they are not physically impressive. The Jordan is only 223 miles long. In comparison, the Tigris and Euphrates rivers each measure well over 1,000 miles. The Nile flows over 4,000 miles from its source in Lake Victoria. The Sea of Galilee at thirteen miles long and eight miles wide is equally unimpressive. It could fit into Lake Michigan 350 times. The other Holy Land lakes have even less to speak of. In most biblical maps, one will notice a small lake ten miles to the north of the Sea of Galilee. This is Lake Hula, or the Waters of Merom. At about three miles long and three miles wide, it is barely noted in the scriptures at all. The last lake, the Dead Sea, is the largest, but also the most repulsive. It is about three times larger than the Sea of Galilee. The sea’s water is so salty it cannot support any forms of life and is bitter to the taste. After a few minutes, it will also sting the flesh of those who swim in it.

Thus, if the waters of the Holy Land are not that special, why must Naaman wash in the Jordan? What makes this river and the waters of the Holy Land significant? The answer can be found on a map, but not a physical one. Hiding beneath the underwhelming marks these waters make on a physical map, is another map — a spiritual one. In this essay, I will do some spiritual cartography and map out the spiritual places these waters represent — revealing their true significance.

Water is one of the richest symbols in the scriptures. The Bible is packed with stories set in or around water. In the Old Testament, a few examples include: the gathering of the oceans during the creation narrative, the great flood, the crossing of the Red Sea, Moses striking the rock, and the crossing of the Jordan in the book of Joshua. In the New Testament, we read of Christ’s baptism in the Jordan, the miracle at the wedding in Cana, Christ sleeping in the boat during the storm on the Sea of Galilee, Christ walking on the Sea of Galilee, and water flowing from Christ’s side during the passion. Since I cannot cover every reference to water in this essay, I will limit myself primarily to the major events that occurred at the Jordan River and its lakes (Lake Hula, the Sea of Galilee, and the Dead Sea). Water is an important element because it is a symbol of life. Water by its purity also signifies cleanliness and innocence. Finally, water is the matter used in the sacrament of baptism, which means there is a real material connection between water and sanctifying grace. These are the main attributes of water that will be covered in this essay.

Photo by Lawrence Lew OP (source)

Sources of the Jordan

The first place to pin on the spiritual map is Heaven. Where does this overlap with the physical map of the Holy Land? The answer is at the sources of the Jordan River.

The Jordan is formed by three small spring fed rivers that converge in the Hula Valley to form the Jordan River. [2] The three springs are located at an elevation of around 1,800 feet and are all near the foot of Mount Hermon in Lebanon. With their constant outflow of water, springs have an everlasting character, which reminds us of God, eternity, and Heaven.

There are also several places in the scriptures where we see springs and rivers flowing out of Heaven or places that resemble Heaven. In Genesis, we read that the Garden of Eden, a type of proto-heaven, was watered by a spring, “But a spring rose out of the earth, watering all the surface of the earth.” [3] This spring forms a river several verses later, “And a river went out of the place of pleasure to water paradise.” [4] Adam and Eve lost paradise through their sin. God, however, promises to make a new Heaven, which is symbolized by Ezekiel’s vision of a rebuilt Jerusalem. [5] The exiled Israelites returning to their home represent all believers (of the Old and New Testaments) returning to their true home of Heaven.

A life-giving spring is also depicted as flowing from the temple of this new Jerusalem. We know this does not represent a physical place, because no such spring flows or has ever flowed from the temple in Jerusalem, which means this is a depiction of something spiritual, such as spiritual temple or heavenly temple. This spiritual temple is Christ’s own body which was pierced on the right side and released a flow of purifying water. The verse from Ezekiel predicts this, “And behold there ran out waters on the right side.” [6] We read further that the spring forms a river which heals wherever it flows. The waters represent the healing effects of sanctifying grace which was merited by Christ’s passion and death. There is one place, however, that cannot be healed — Hell. This is signified by the verse, “But on the shore thereof, and in the fenny places they shall not be healed, because they shall be turned into saltpits.” [7] The springs in Eden, the temple of the new Jerusalem, and Christ’s side, all provide support for the idea that the three springs of the Jordan River represent Heaven.

Since there are three springs, a connection can be made between them and the three persons of the Holy Trinity. The formula for the sacrament of Baptism can also be linked with the three springs. In the sacrament, the minister pours a separate stream of water as he names each member of the Holy Trinity, one pour for each spring.

On a map, the three springs roughly form an inverted triangle. In the northwest, there is the spring which feeds the Hasbani River, in the middle/south, there is the spring which supplies the Dan River, and in the northeast, there is the spring which turns into the Baniyas River. All of the springs are renowned for their purity and natural beauty. The eastern spring and river get their names from the Greek nature god, Pan, who had a shrine located in a niche outside the cave where the spring begins. Above the cave is a massive rock wall about 200 feet high and 500 feet wide. [8] Located within sight of the cave, Philip the tetrarch, built the city of Caeserea Philippi in honor of Caesar Augustus. [9] On top of the rock wall, there was a white marble temple dedicated to Caesar. [10]

Father Stanley Jaki, a contemporary Bible scholar, argues that this was the location where Christ chose Saint Peter to be the head of the Church. He bases his theory on the verses from Matthew beginning with, “And Jesus came into the quarters of Cesarea Philippi: and asked his disciples, saying: Whom do men say that the Son of man is?” [11] Peter replies, “Thou art Christ, the Son of the living God.” [12] To which our Lord responds,

Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-Jona: because flesh and blood hath not revealed it to thee, but my Father who is in heaven. And I say to thee: That thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give to thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven. [13]

Father Jaki proposes that this scene took place outside of Pan’s cave under the large rock wall. Jesus and the Apostles would not have gone right up to the spring because of the presence of the pagan shrine. [14] He writes, “Standing at a distance, Jesus and the Twelve must have been impressed by the massive wall of rock rising over the source of the Jordan.” [15] The rock wall provides an appropriate background for Christ to speak these words to Peter. In the presence of the pagan temples and false gods, who vie conspicuously close to Christ and the source of the holy Jordan River, Peter boldly declares Jesus as the true God. The symbolism is obvious. Peter (whose name means rock) is likened to the massive rock wall. Christ rewards Peter’s faith by promising to build the Church on top of him. Christ is asserting His power over the false gods that dwell above and below the physical rock wall that they are standing in front of. Any remnants of these pagan images will be washed away by the Jordan.

If Father Jaki’s theory is correct, it would also fit with the theory that the source of the Jordan represents Heaven. The Church is erected as the gate through which believers must enter Heaven. Christ appoints Peter as the gatekeeper of this gate and gives Him the keys. It is also interesting that this particular spring is the one that flows from the east. Throughout the scriptures, God and His power are always depicted as coming from the east.

Lake Hula

Following the Jordan River south, we come to the Jordan’s first lake, Lake Hula, also referred to as the Waters of Merom. Historically it measured about three miles by three miles, and was five to ten feet deep. [16] The lake was drained in the 1950’s because it was a breeding ground for malarial mosquitoes. [17] Today only a small wetland remains.

On the spiritual map, Lake Hula represents Purgatory. At an elevation of about 230 feet, it is nestled between the Jordan headwaters at around 1,800 feet in elevation and the next lake down, the Sea of Galilee, which sits about 700 feet below sea level. Lake Hula is only mentioned once in the scriptures, and is referred to as the Waters of Merom in the book of Joshua. The lake is the sight of a major battle between the Israelites and a coalition of pagan nations. God promises Joshua that he will be victorious in battle and commands him to take no quarter. [18] Joshua is a figure for Jesus. We know that Jesus’ victory on the cross merited enough grace for all to be saved, but the grace is only efficacious for those who believe in God and do His will. The strict command to annihilate all of the enemies is a warning to all those who reject God’s grace. There is no salvation for those who oppose God. After the battle, Joshua purges the area of all pagan influence. We read of Joshua capturing Asor, “Now Asor of old was the head of of all these kingdoms. And he cut off all the souls that abode there: he left not in it any remains, but utterly destroyed all, and burned the city itself with fire.” [19]

Like the land around Asor and Lake Hula, Purgatory is also a place of fiery purification. It is the place where God’s refining fire cleanses souls of any remaining earthly attachments. This fire, however, is deadly for God’s enemies. The historical presence of malaria around this lake also points to additional suffering for those who dwell around it. Lake Hula then is a fitting spot for Purgatory. It is a place of painful purgation where only the saved can go, but one which they would rather bypass.

NOTES

[1] 4 Kings 5, 12 (All Bible quotes are from the Douay-Rheims translation)

[2] “Jordan River.” Encyclopedia Britannica, Encyclopedia Britannica, inc., 25 Nov. 2023, www.britannica.com/place/Jordan-River.

[3] Genesis 2, 6

[4] Genesis 2, 10

[5] Ezekiel 47

[6] Ezekiel 47, 2

[7] Ezekiel 47, 11

[8] Rev. Stanley Jaki, And on This Rock, (Front Royal, VA: Christendom Press, 1997), 10.

[9] Rev. Stanley Jaki, And on This Rock, 10.

[10] Rev. Stanley Jaki, And on This Rock, 15.

[11] Matthew 16, 13

[12] Matthew 16, 16

[13] Matthew 16, 17-19

[14] Rev. Stanley Jaki, And on This Rock, 77.

[15] Ibid. 77.

[16] “Jordan River.” Encyclopedia Britannica, Encyclopedia Britannica, inc., 25 Nov. 2023, www.britannica.com/place/Jordan-River.

[17] Ibid.

[18] Joshua 11, 6

[19] Joshua 11, 10-11

The Truthfulness of the Pre-1955 Good Friday Prayer for the Jews

Abel and Abraham presenting their prototypical offerings with Melchisedech's

As we prepare in Advent to celebrate the birth of the Messiah who, in His earthly life, was sent “only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matt. 15, 24), among whom He inaugurated His visible mission “to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19, 10), it seems appropriate to reflect on the controversial Good Friday petition for the Jews; since, as Archbishop Fulton Sheen famously remarked:

Every other person who ever came into this world came into it to live. He came into it to die. Death was a stumbling block to Socrates — it interrupted his teaching. But to Christ, death was the goal and fulfillment of His life, the gold that He was seeking. Few of His words or actions are intelligible without reference to His Cross. He presented Himself as a Savior rather than merely as a Teacher.

The prayer for the Jews in the pre-1955 Mass of the Presanctified on Good Friday reads as follows:

Let us pray also for the faithless Jews [perfidis Judaeis]: that Almighty God may remove the veil from their hearts; so that they too may acknowledge Jesus Christ our Lord. [No instruction to kneel or to rise is given, but immediately is said:] Almighty and eternal God, who dost not exclude from Thy mercy even Jewish faithlessness [Judaicam perfidiam]: hear our prayers, which we offer for the blindness of that people; that acknowledging the light of thy Truth, which is Christ, they may be delivered from their darkness. Through the same our Lord Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth with thee in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Henri de Lubac — no traditionalist, to be sure — devotes an entire chapter of his famous work Medieval Exegesis to the meaning of the word perfidis in patristic literature, and (surprise!) it turns out that it does NOT mean “perfidious” or “treacherous” or “nefarious.” In Christian vocabulary, it is the right word to designate the idea of being unfaithful to a commitment one had undertaken. The Israelites accepted the old covenant, which was ordered to accepting the Messiah. By not having received Him when He came, they were guilty of infidelity to the Lord. Thus, the phraseology is absolutely correct. (Addendum: A Latinist friend pointed out to me that perfidus and its derivatives occur twenty times in the Hispano-Mozarabic Missal: once against those who stoned St. Stephen, a few times against pagans, sometimes against heretics, and at other times against sinners contra religionem without further distinction.)

‘The Synagogue’: outside Bamberg cathedral

Pius XII introduced the first unnecessary change by inserting the standard instruction for kneeling and standing. John XXIII continued the trend of accommodating political pressure by removing the word perfidis/perfidia from the Good Friday prayer. The rite of Paul VI simply jettisoned the traditional prayer altogether, replacing it with a typically Hallmarkian text. It was a final misstep for Benedict XVI, in “rehabilitating” the usus antiquior, to replace the Roncallian version with a brand new prayer of eschatological orientation rather than evangelical, which makes it inferior, as Christian prayer, to the ancient prayer. This succession of changes seems to concede the argument that there really was something “anti-Semitic” about the old prayer, when it does no more than translate the teaching of the New Testament into the lex orandi. Balking at this lex orandi is a backhanded way of balking at divine revelation. In this way, ironically, the ones who show themselves to be guilty of perfidia are the Christians who cease to pray and work for the conversion of all, including the Jews.

Even if, for reasons of prudence, we may need to use or accept the 2008 prayer for the time being, Catholics who make use of the pre-1955 Holy Week liturgy should be in a position to defend the classic prayer, rather than to accept the false premise that there was something wrong with it.

On the now-defunct Foretaste of Wisdom blog there was a fine piece entitled “St. Thomas Aquinas on the Relationship between Christianity and Judaism after Christ,” the substance of which I reproduce below, for the benefit of NLM readers.

1. Christianity is the continuity (fulfilment) of the faith of the Judaism of the Old Covenant.

As regards the substance of the articles of faith, they have not received any increase as time went on: since whatever those who lived later have believed, was contained, albeit implicitly, in the faith of those Fathers who preceded them. (Summa theologiae, II-II, Q. 1, art. 7)

2. Judaism after Christ is not the continuity of the faith of the Judaism of the Old Covenant.

Accordingly we must say that if unbelief be considered in comparison to faith, there are several species of unbelief, determinate in number. For, since the sin of unbelief consists in resisting the faith, this may happen in two ways: either the faith is resisted before it has been accepted, and such is the unbelief of pagans or heathens; or the Christian faith is resisted after it has been accepted, and this either in the figure, and such is the unbelief of the Jews, or in the very manifestation of truth, and such is the unbelief of heretics. Hence we may, in a general way, reckon these three as species of unbelief. (Summa theologiae, I-II, Q. 10, art. 5)

3. The Old Law was a step, a bridge from the law of nature to the new law of the Gospel. It is inherently temporary and ordered beyond itself.

Hence, the New Law is called a law of love and consequently is called an image, because it has an express likeness to future goods. But the Old Law represents that image by certain carnal things and very remotely. Therefore, it is called a shadow (as in) Colossians 2:17: “These are but a shadow of the things to come.” This, therefore, is the condition of the Old Testament, that it has the shadow of future things and not their image. (Super Heb., X.1, no. 480)

In the present state of life, we are unable to gaze on the Divine Truth in Itself, and we need the ray of Divine light to shine upon us under the form of certain sensible figures, as Dionysius states (Coel. Hier. i); in various ways, however, according to the various states of human knowledge. For under the Old Law, neither was the Divine Truth manifest in Itself, nor was the way leading to that manifestation as yet opened out, as the Apostle declares (Hebrews 9:8). Hence the external worship of the Old Law needed to be figurative not only of the future truth to be manifested in our heavenly country, but also of Christ, Who is the way leading to that heavenly manifestation. But under the New Law this way is already revealed: and therefore it needs no longer to be foreshadowed as something future, but to be brought to our minds as something past or present: and the truth of the glory to come, which is not yet revealed, alone needs to be foreshadowed. This is what the Apostle says (Hebrews 11:1): “The Law has a shadow of the good things to come, not the very image of the things”: for a shadow is less than an image; so that the image belongs to the New Law, but the shadow to the Old. (Summa theologiae, I-II, Q. 101, art. 2)

The salutiferous Cross foreshadowed under Moses

4. That the Old Law is said to be “everlasting” and that the call of God is “without repentance” does not establish that the Old Law remains in force as such or that it was not God’s intention to bring it to an end in the fullness of time.

The Old Law is said to be “for ever” simply and absolutely, as regards its moral precepts; but as regards the ceremonial precepts it lasts for ever in respect of the reality which those ceremonies foreshadowed. (Summa theologiae, I-II, Q. 103, art. 3 ad 1; see also the corpus in full)

In this way one avoids the opinion of the Jews, who believe that the sacraments of the Law must be observed forever precisely because they were established by God, since God has no regrets and is not changed. But without change or regret one who disposes things may dispose things differently in harmony with a difference of times; thus, the father of a family gives one set of orders to a small child and another to one already grown. Thus, God also harmoniously gave one set of sacraments and commandments before the Incarnation to point to the future, and another set after the Incarnation to deliver things present and bring to mind things past. (Summa contra Gentiles, IV.57, 2)

5. Professing “Judaism” after the time of Christ — that is, holding on to the Old Covenant in its oldness after it has been fulfilled — is objectively a grave sin based on a grave theological error:

All ceremonies are professions of faith, in which the interior worship of God consists. Now man can make profession of his inward faith, by deeds as well as by words: and in either profession, if he make a false declaration, he sins mortally. Now, though our faith in Christ is the same as that of the fathers of old; yet, since they came before Christ, whereas we come after Him, the same faith is expressed in different words, by us and by them. For by them was it said: “Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son,” where the verbs are in the future tense: whereas we express the same by means of verbs in the past tense, and say that she “conceived and bore.” In like manner the ceremonies of the Old Law betokened Christ as having yet to be born and to suffer: whereas our sacraments signify Him as already born and having suffered. Consequently, just as it would be a mortal sin now for anyone, in making a profession of faith, to say that Christ is yet to be born, which the fathers of old said devoutly and truthfully; so too it would be a mortal sin now to observe those ceremonies which the fathers of old fulfilled with devotion and fidelity. Such is the teaching Augustine (Contra Faust. xix, 16), who says: “It is no longer promised that He shall be born, shall suffer and rise again, truths of which their sacraments were a kind of image: but it is declared that He is already born, has suffered and risen again; of which our sacraments, in which Christians share, are the actual representation.” (Summa theologiae, I-II, Q. 103, art. 4)

6. The Old and New Laws are not parallel; the Old Law was a step in God’s divine economy, in which the New Law is the goal.

Accordingly then two laws may be distinguished from one another in two ways. First, through being altogether diverse, from the fact that they are ordained to diverse ends: thus a state-law ordained to democratic government, would differ specifically from a law ordained to government by the aristocracy. Secondly, two laws may be distinguished from one another, through one of them being more closely connected with the end, and the other more remotely: thus in one and the same state there is one law enjoined on men of mature age, who can forthwith accomplish that which pertains to the common good; and another law regulating the education of children who need to be taught how they are to achieve manly deeds later on. We must therefore say that, according to the first way, the New Law is not distinct from the Old Law: because they both have the same end, namely, man’s subjection to God; and there is but one God of the New and of the Old Testament, according to Romans 3:30: “It is one God that justifieth circumcision by faith, and uncircumcision through faith.” According to the second way, the New Law is distinct from the Old Law: because the Old Law is like a pedagogue of children, as the Apostle says (Galatians 3:24), whereas the New Law is the law of perfection, since it is the law of charity, of which the Apostle says (Colossians 3:14) that it is “the bond of perfection.” (Summa theologiae, I-II, Q. 107, art. 1; see also the responses to the objections)

Abraham pays tithes to Melchisedech

In all of this, St. Thomas shows himself to be the faithful interpreter of Tradition, as this quotation from St. Augustine shows:

For we see that priesthood has been changed; and there can be no hope that what was promised to that house may some time be fulfilled, because that which succeeds on its being rejected and changed is rather predicted as eternal. He who says this does not yet understand, or does not recollect, that this very priesthood after the order of Aaron was appointed as the shadow of a future eternal priesthood; and therefore, when eternity is promised to it, it is not promised to the mere shadow and figure, but to what is shadowed forth and prefigured by it. But lest it should be thought the shadow itself was to remain, therefore its mutation also behooved to be foretold. (City of God, XVII, 6)

In light of this rock-solid teaching from the Church’s Common Doctor, it is impossible to maintain that the traditional (pre-1955) version of the prayer for the conversion of the Jews on Good Friday constitutes an “antisemitic” attack on them. Rather, it expresses accurately, elegantly, and charitably the teaching of the New Testament and of the Church, ordered to the salvation of all mankind in Christ, — especially the people chosen in view of the Christ, the true and natural Son of God.

I should like to close with a quotation from an article published in (of all places) Theological Studies in the year 1947, by John M. Oesterreicher, “Pro Perfidis Judaeis,” and happily available on the internet:

To conclude with a proposal made from time to time: that the Church should modify the expression perfidia Judaica and restore the ancient order for the Good Friday prayer, I should like to venture an opinion. The Church will hardly alter the words perfidia Judaica, which, as we have shown, are not intended to dishonor the Jews, and this because she may not and will not forget Christ’s claim for recognition from His own people. She, the custodian of truth, must call things by their proper names; thus, Israel’s resistance to Christ, unbelief. Indeed, she would be an enemy of the Jews did she conceal from them the source of their unrest.

In 1947, it was still possible for a scholar naively to say: “The Church will hardly alter the words…” And yet, as a friend pointed out to me, the same author, Oesterreicher, later took to “Judaizing” opinions. After the reformatory carnage through which we have passed since then, is it possible we might learn a lesson or two from our mistakes as we work to restore the traditional Roman rite?

Recommended further reading:

• Fr. Brian Harrison, “The Liturgy and ‘Supersessionism’”
• Foretaste of Wisdom, artiles on Palm Sunday and Holy Saturday
• FIUV Position Paper, “The Good Friday Prayer for the Jews” (also contained in this book)
• Fr. John Hunwicke, many articles

Christ delivering the fathers of the Old Covenant from hell

All photos (except Bamberg cathedral) courtesy of Fr. Lawrence Lew, O.P.

Visit Dr. Kwasniewski’s website, SoundCloud page, and YouTube channel.

[This article was updated.]

St. John Henry Newman, the Traditionalist — Part 2: Quotations

Newman wearing a saturno and a winter cappa

Last week I spoke about Newman’s anti-liberal, anti-progressive, anti-modernist side, against those of his fairweather friends and misguided enemies who paint him as a proto-Congar or a proto-De Lubac, as one who practically sketched out the Second Vatican Council and left his notes to Papa Roncalli. The truly Catholic Newman was faithfully expounded in seven books written by Fr Stanley Jaki and still in print, albeit nearly ignored, as they do not flatter modern readers. In a timely manner, Bishop Edward O’Dwyer’s 1908 essay Cardinal Newman and the Encyclical ‘Pascendi Dominici Gregis’ has also just been republished.

Today I would like to make good on my claim that Newman would oppose just about every trend in the Church today, except for the active role taken on by laity — I mean, by conservative and traditional laity who pass on and defend the Catholic and Apostolic Faith in spite of the resistance or indifference of their shepherds, a situation that echoes the fidelity of the laity during the Arian crisis, as Newman carefully documented. I shall quote particularly sparkling passages from his writings. Some of these will be found in the book that I announced on Monday, Newman on Worship, Reverence, and Ritual: A Selection of Texts (US | UK), but most are from other places in his writings. I am not putting these in any particular order, nor am I attempting to canvas his entire career or cherrypick the “best.” Like most great authors, Newman wrote an astonishing amount, and wherever one dips in, one is apt to find treasure.

Ancient Israel as a Model and Warning

In my opinion, one of Newman’s greatest strengths as a biblical exegete is his keen sense, indebted to the Church Fathers, that the Old Testament is not just a record of a particular ancient people or nation, but a mirror we hold up to our faces to see our own image. The virtues of Israel are the virtues of Christians, and their vices our vices.

A splendid example of his approach is the following passage, in which he explains that it would make no difference to have miracles, if we have not faith and love, illustrating the more general (and uncomfortable) truth that Christianity does not somehow automatically make us better than the ancient Israelites. It gives us more access to truth and grace — that is all. We can still imitate their disbelief, even as the best of them foreshadowed our saints and indeed are counted among our saints.

What is the real reason why we do not seek God with all our hearts, and devote ourselves to His service, if the absence of miracles be not the reason, as most assuredly it is not?
       What was it that made the Israelites disobedient, who had miracles? St. Paul informs us, and exhorts us in consequence. “Harden not your hearts, as in the provocation, in the day of temptation in the wilderness ... take heed ... lest there be in any of you” (as there was among the Jews) “an evil heart of unbelief in departing from the Living God.” Moses had been commissioned to say the same thing at the very time; “Oh that there were such a heart in them, that they would fear Me, and keep My Commandments always!”
       We cannot serve God, because we want the will and the heart to serve Him. We like any thing better than religion, as the Jews before us. The Jews liked this world; they liked mirth and feasting. “The people sat down to eat and to drink, and rose up to play;” so do we. They liked glitter and show, and the world’s fashions. “Give us a king like the nations,” they said to Samuel; so do we. They wished to be let alone; they liked ease; they liked their own way; they disliked to make war against the natural impulses and leanings of their own minds; they disliked to attend to the state of their souls, to have to treat themselves as spiritually sick and infirm, to watch, and rule, and chasten, and refrain, and change themselves; and so do we. They disliked to think of God, and to observe and attend His ordinances, and to reverence Him; they called it a weariness to frequent His courts; and they found this or that false worship more pleasant, satisfactory, congenial to their feelings, than the service of the Judge of quick and dead; and so do we: and therefore we disobey God as they did, — not that we have not miracles; for they actually had them, and it made no difference.
       We act as they did, though they had miracles, and we have not; because there is one cause of it common both to them and us — heartlessness in religious matters, an evil heart of unbelief; both they and we disobey and disbelieve, because we do not love.  (Parochial and Plain Sermons, vol. 8, sermon 6, Miracles no Remedy for Unbelief)

In a similar vein, Newman speaks of how even the incarnate Christ remains the “hidden Savior” of Israel, one whose presence calls for reverential fear and faith in things unseen. We can quarrel and commit blasphemy towards Christ just as the Jews of His day did:

If He is still on earth, yet is not visible (which cannot be denied), it is plain that He keeps Himself still in the condition which He chose in the days of His flesh. I mean, He is a hidden Saviour, and may be approached (unless we are careful) without due reverence and fear. I say, wherever He is (for that is a further question), still He is here, and again He is secret; and whatever be the tokens of His Presence, still they must be of a nature to admit of persons doubting where it is; and if they will argue, and be sharpwitted and subtle, they may perplex themselves and others, as the Jews did even in the days of His flesh, till He seems to them nowhere present on earth now. And when they come to think him far away, of course they feel it to be impossible so to insult Him as the Jews did of old; and if nevertheless He is here, they are perchance approaching and insulting Him, though they so feel. And this was just the case of the Jews, for they too were ignorant what they were doing. It is probable, then, that we can now commit at least as great blasphemy towards Him as the Jews did first, because we are under the dispensation of that Holy Spirit, against whom even more heinous sins can be committed; next, because His presence now as little witnesses of itself, or is impressive to the many, as His bodily presence formerly.”  (Parochial and Plain Sermons, vol. 4, sermon 16, Christ Hidden from the World)

One of very few pictures we have of Newman in liturgical garb

Church Services Too Long and In Need of Modification?

Newman sees the liturgical services (or “ordinances”) of the Church as an opportunity to test our actual resolve to be holy, to attend in faith and love to God’s presence. If we cannot bring ourselves to go to church at a set time to meet the Lord and to concentrate our minds on Him when the means are provided to us, why should we presume that we will succeed in putting our minds on Him elsewhere, when no consistent means are given? Back in Newman’s day, proposals were afoot for shortening and simplifying the Church’s public worship, and he opposed them staunchly. As we know, one of the principal goals of twentieth-century liturgical reform in the Catholic Church was to abbreviate all the ceremonies, because they were considered too long for Modern Man.Ô This tendency was at work in Pius XII’s Holy Week deformation before the epitome of exiguity was achieved in the hieratic haiku of the rites of Paul VI. Newman has something helpful to say to this self-sabotaging reformism:

If any one alleges the length of the Church prayers as a reason for his not keeping his mind fixed upon them, I would beg him to ask his conscience whether he sincerely believes this to be at bottom the real cause of his inattention? Does he think he should attend better if the prayers were shorter? This is the question he has to consider. If he answers that he believes he should attend more closely in that case, then I go on to ask, whether he attends more closely (as it is) to the first part of the service than to the last; whether his mind is his own, regularly fixed on what he is engaged in, for any time in any part of the service? Now, if he is obliged to own that this is not the case, that his thoughts are wandering in all parts of the service, and that even during the Confession, or the Lord’s Prayer, which come first, they are not his own, it is quite clear that it is not the length of the service which is the real cause of his inattention, but his being deficient in the habit of being attentive. If, on the other hand, he answers that he can fix his thoughts for a time, and during the early part of the service, I would have him reflect that even this degree of attention was not always his own, that it has been the work of time and practice; and, if by trying he has got so far, by trying he may go on and learn to attend for a still longer time, till at length he is able to keep up his attention through the whole service.  (Parochial and Plain Sermons, vol. 1, sermon 11, Profession without Hypocrisy)

Newman makes mention of the Lord’s Prayer, which for him exemplifies the value of simple, clear, unemotional, formal prayer — as long as it remains true to its type:

Christ gave us a prayer to guide us in praying to the Father; and upon this model our own Liturgy is strictly formed. You will look in vain in the Prayer Book for long or vehement Prayers; for it is only upon occasions that agitation of mind is right, but there is ever a call upon us for seriousness, gravity, simplicity, deliberate trust, deep-seated humility. Many persons, doubtless, think the Church prayers, for this very reason, cold and formal. They do not discern their high perfection, and they think they could easily write better prayers. When such opinions are advanced, it is quite sufficient to turn our thoughts to our Saviour’s precept and example. It cannot be denied that those who thus speak, ought to consider our Lord’s prayer defective; and sometimes they are profane enough to think so, and to confess they think so.  (Parochial and Plain Sermons, vol. 1, sermon Sermon 14, Religious Emotion)

One wonders what Newman would have said about a pope twisting the last line of the Lord’s Prayer to say something that the Greek New Testament doesn’t say, and then to enforce his “new and improved” version on segments of the Church. We know what he would say about a pope abandoning the Latin language for Catholic worship:

The Mass must not be said without a Missal under the priest’s eye; nor in any language but that in which it has come down to us from the early hierarchs of the Western Church. (Idea of a University, Part II, ch. 6: “University Preaching,” 1855) 

Along similar lines, Newman preached on the quality of zeal that befits the confessor of Christ, and complained quite movingly of coreligionists who dared to suggest purging verses from the Psalter because they were no longer fitting to recite. We pick up the thread where he is telling us how much we are supposed to keep learning from the Old Testament. Watch where he goes with the Psalter:

A certain fire of zeal, showing itself, not by force and blood, but as really and certainly as if it did — cutting through natural feelings, neglecting self, preferring God’s glory to all things, firmly resisting sin, protesting against sinners, and steadily contemplating their punishment, is a duty belonging to all creatures of God, a duty of Christians, in the midst of all that excellent overflowing charity which is the highest Gospel grace, and the fulfilling of the second table of the Law.
       And such, in fact, has ever been the temper of the Christian Church; in evidence of which I need but appeal to the impressive fact that the Jewish Psalter has been the standard book of Christian devotion from the first down to this day. I wish we thought more of this circumstance. Can any one doubt that, supposing that blessed manual of faith and love had never been in use among us, great numbers of the present generation would have clamoured against it as unsuitable to express Christian feelings, as deficient in charity and kindness?
       Nay, do we not know, though I dare say it may surprise many a sober Christian to hear that it is so, that there are men at this moment who (I hardly like to mention it) wish parts of the Psalms left out of the Service as ungentle and harsh? Alas! that men of this day should rashly put their own judgment in competition with that of all the Saints of every age hitherto since Christ came — should virtually say, “Either they have been wrong or we are,” thus forcing us to decide between the two. Alas! that they should dare to criticise the words of inspiration! Alas! that they should follow the steps of the backsliding Israelites, and shrink from siding with the Truth in its struggle with the world, instead of saying with Deborah, “So let all Thine enemies perish, O Lord!”  (Parochial and Plain Sermons, vol. 3, sermon 13. Jewish Zeal, a Pattern for Christians)

Yet Paul VI did exactly what Newman railed against: he had “parts of the Psalms left out of the Service” (that is, the Liturgy of the Hours of 1970), following the steps of the backsliding Israelites. See this link for a full listing of the omitted verses.

I would go further and say that Newman, of all modern theologians, is the one whose thought stands most opposed, as a matter of principle, to the postconciliar liturgical reform.

There never was a time since the apostles’ day when the Church was not; and there never was a time but men were to be found who preferred some other way of worship to the Church’s way. These two kinds of professed Christians ever have been — Church Christians and Christians not of the Church; and it is remarkable, I say, that while, on the one hand, reverence for sacred things has been a characteristic of Church Christians on the whole, so, want of reverence has been the characteristic on the whole of Christians not of the Church.  (Parochial and Plain Sermons, vol. 8, sermon 1, Reverence in Worship)

Did those who radically altered the inherited liturgy, with its profound spirit of reverence exhibited and inculcated in a thousand turns of phrase, bows of the head, kisses of the altar, bending of the knees — did they “prefer some other way of worship” to what had been, for so many centuries, “the Church’s way”? Did they show “reverence for sacred things” or rather an appalling “want [lack] of reverence”? As if continuing his train of thought, Newman says in a different sermon:

It is scarcely too much to say that awe and fear are at the present day all but discarded from religion. Whole societies called Christian make it almost a first principle to disown the duty of reverence; and we ourselves, to whom as children of the Church reverence is as a special inheritance, have very little of it, and do not feel the want of it.  (Parochial and Plain Sermons, vol. 5, sermon 2, Reverence, a Belief in God’s Presence)

A Church is Like Heaven — or Should Be

Newman’s vision of what heaven will be like is all the more challenging to read in the postconciliar period, when his comparison of it to services in church seems to apply to nearly no Catholic parish except those that have resolutely returned to tradition:

Heaven then is not like this world; I will say what it is much more like, — a church. For in a place of public worship no language of this world is heard; there are no schemes brought forward for temporal objects, great or small; no information how to strengthen our worldly interests, extend our influence, or establish our credit. These things indeed may be right in their way, so that we do not set our hearts upon them; still (I repeat), it is certain that we hear nothing of them in a church. Here we hear solely and entirely of God. We praise Him, worship Him, sing to Him, thank Him, confess to Him, give ourselves up to Him, and ask His blessing. And therefore, a church is like heaven; viz. because both in the one and the other, there is one single sovereign subject — religion — brought before us.  (Parochial and Plain Sermons, vol. 1, sermon 1. Holiness Necessary for Future Blessedness)

Such views about the afterlife and the way in which a church service should emulate the state of beatitude would probably be written off today by many as “romantic” or “romanticized,” as much as would be Guéranger’s reconstruction of medieval monasticism, Mocquereau’s reinterpretation of plainchant, or Pugin’s and Viollet-le-Duc’s reclamation of Gothic architecture. Yet what all of these 19th-century geniuses had in common is their strong artistic intuition and lively religious imagination. In short, they were not rationalists and historicists, but believers and emulators.

Newman was concerned about the worldliness that ever threatened to creep into the Church, as he complains about “the American Church,” i.e., the Episcopalians.

If this view of things is allowed a footing, a sleek gentlemanlike religion will grow up within the sacred pale, with well-warmed chapels, softly cushioned pews, and eloquent preachers. The poor and needy, the jewels of the Church, will dwindle away; the clergy will sink in honour, and rich laymen will culminate. Already, Mr. Caswall informs us, “there are churches which rather resemble splendid drawing-rooms than houses of worship, and in which the poor man could hardly feel himself at home. Handsome carpets cover every part of the floor,” and “the pews are luxuriously cushioned in a manner calculated to invite repose.” (Essays Critical & Historical, Volume 1, VIII. The Anglo-American Church)

We are not far here from the utterly non-transcendent comfortable religion that Bishop Barron years ago, before he busied himself with the more urgent business of evacuating hell, memorably dubbed “beige Catholicism.” Not heaven on earth, but a second-rate country club.

Carpeted and cushioned churches: Newman is not amused

Refraining From or Approaching Holy Communion

The question of who may or may not, who should or should not approach to receive the true Body of Christ in the most holy sacrament of the altar has always been and will always be a pressing one in the Church, as it is a matter of spiritual life or death: those who receive worthily grow in God’s friendship, while those who receive unworthily, that is, in a sinful condition offensive to God, heap damnation on themselves, until and unless they repent. When Newman speaks about the receiption of communion, even in the Anglican context, he is dreadfully serious about what he believes is at stake for souls (and indeed, as any Thomist would say, if an Anglican believes his Eucharist is truly Christ, he would commit a further grave sin by receiving it with grave sin on his conscience):

The true reason why people will not come to this Holy Communion is this, — they do not wish to lead religious lives; they do not like to promise to lead religious lives; and they think that that blessed Sacrament does bind them to do so, bind them to live very much more strictly and thoughtfully than they do at present. Allow as much as we will for proper distrust of themselves, reasonable awe, the burden of past sin, imperfect knowledge, and other causes, still after all there is in most cases a reluctance to bear, or at least to pledge themselves to bear, Christ’s yoke; a reluctance to give up the service of sin once for all; a lingering love of their own ease, of their own will, of indolence, of carnal habits, of the good opinion of men whom they do not respect; a distrust of their perseverance in holy resolves, grounded on a misgiving about their present sincerity. This is why men will not come to Christ for life; they know that He will not impart Himself to them, unless they consent to devote themselves to Him.  (Parochial and Plain Sermons, vol. 7, sermon 11. Attendance on Holy Communion)

Would that we had a mere fraction of this sense of self-awareness among us today, when the vast majority of those present at any Mass walk up to receive, without heeding St. Paul’s instruction to examine their consciences for impediments! If one had to choose between this pervasive laxity and the bad old days when few received, the latter situation was far better, as simply being more honest. Christian love builds on truth, not on free lollipops for all comers. Mortal sinners used to refrain from committing an act of sacrilege. Today, they get what has been called the “Sin-nod.”

Newman understood sacramental logic better than all the bishops at the various modern synods that have wasted the time, money, and patrimony of the Catholic Church:

If the dead bodies of Christians are honourable, so doubtless are the living; because they have had their blessedness when living, therefore have they in their sleep. He who does not honour his own body as something holy unto the Lord, may indeed revere the dead, but it is then a mere superstition, not an act of piety. To reverence holy places (right as it is) will not profit a man unless he reverences himself. Consider what it is to be partaker of the Body and Blood of Christ. We pray God, in our Church’s language, that “our sinful bodies may become clean through His body;” and we are promised in Scripture, that our bodies shall be temples of the Holy Ghost. How should we study, then, to cleanse them from all sin, that they may be true members of Christ! We are told that the peril of disease and death attends the unworthy partaking of the Lord’s Supper. Is this wonderful, considering the strange sin of receiving it into a body disgraced by wilful disobedience? All that defiles it, intemperance or other vice, all that is unbecoming, all that is disrespectful to Him who has bought our bodies with a price, must be put aside.  (Parochial and Plain Sermons, vol. 1, sermon 21, The Resurrection of the Body)

I take it as a peculiar virtue in Newman that he uncompromisingly sizes up sin for the gross disorder it is, and sees the entire work of the Church to consist in freeing man from sin so that the divine life may take root in him. In a famous passage, our author articulates a view that is not just worlds apart from the currently reigning moral theology, but, one might say, its direct and categorical opposite.

“The Catholic Church holds it better for the sun and moon to drop from heaven, for the earth to fail, and for all the many millions on it to die of starvation in extremest agony, as far as temporal affliction goes, than that one soul, I will not say, should be lost, but should commit one single venial sin, should tell one wilful untruth, or should steal one poor farthing without excuse.” I think the principle here enunciated to be the mere preamble in the formal credentials of the Catholic Church, as an Act of Parliament might begin with a “Whereas.” It is because of the intensity of the evil which has possession of mankind, that a suitable antagonist has been provided against it; and the initial act of that divinely-commissioned power is of course to deliver her challenge and to defy the enemy. Such a preamble then gives a meaning to her position in the world, and an interpretation to her whole course of teaching and action.  (Apologia Pro Vita Sua, ch. 5, quoting internally from Certain Difficulties Felt by Anglicans in Catholic Teaching, Volume 1, Lecture 8)

It cannot be denied that “the Catholic Church” about which Newman spoke so majestically and with such certitude in the preceding passage is in mortal danger today, fifty years after the last Council, languishing in a sickness that, from all appearances, is unto death, and will require a divine Physician to heal. From time to time, Newman could wax apocalyptic, as in this Anglican sermon where he is reflecting on the internal schisms of his own community, in words that tragically apply today to the Catholic Church he recognized by her notes and praised for her unity:

Alas! I cannot deny that the outward notes of the Church are partly gone from us, and partly going; and a most fearful judgment it is. “Behold ... the stars of heaven and the constellations thereof shall not give their light; the sun shall be darkened in his going forth, and the moon shall not cause her light to shine.” “I will cause the sun to go down at noon, and I will darken the earth in the clear day. And I will turn your feasts into mourning, and all your songs into lamentation.” “All the bright lights of heaven will I make dark over them, and set darkness upon thy land, saith the Lord God.” This in good measure has fallen upon us. The Church of God is under eclipse among us. Where is our unity, for which Christ prayed? where our charity, which He enjoined? where the faith once delivered, when each has his own doctrine? where our visibility, which was to be a light to the world? where that awful worship, which struck fear into every soul? And what is the consequence? “We grope for the wall like the blind, and we grope as if we had no eyes; we stumble at noonday as in the night; we are in desolate places as dead men.”  (Sermons on Subjects of the Day, Sermon 22. Outward and Inward Notes of the Church, citing Isa. xiii. 10; Amos viii. 9, 10; Ezek. xxxii. 8; Isa. lix. 10)

Yes, these passages are stern and sobering. They are not the happy-clappy stuff of BunnyLuv liturgy. Newman could see the developing secularism of England, Europe, America, the deepening shadow of infidelity that threatened to suffocate the entire West. He knew that there was only one answer: absolute faithfulness to Jesus Christ and His revelation, without compromise, without shame, without cowardice, and with the joy that comes from resting in the truth of God’s love, which is too intense to leave us, Grand Inquisitor-style, in our self-absorbed mediocrity. For Newman there is not, nor could there be, a “new paradigm” for Christianity; there is the one and only paradigm, already given, given once and for ever. Our work is to conform to it, not to transform it; to apply it, not to subvert it.

A Lighter Interlude

There is plenty of humor, especially of a satirical kind, in Newman’s work. I shall offer just one example, especially pertinent to readers of NLM. How often do we bump into people who insist on repeating their liturgical mistakes, because “that’s the way we’ve always done it (or: the way it’s always been done)”?

It is related by the learned Dr. Bentley . . . [that] his opponent happened to spell wrongly the name of a Greek town; and when he was set right, he made answer that it was the custom of our English writers so to spell it, and he proceeded to quote as many as five of them in proof of his assertion. On this Bentley observes, “An admirable reason, and worthy to be his own; as if the most palpable error, that shall happen to obtain and meet with reception, must therefore never be mended.” After this, the slashing critic goes on to allude to the instance of an unlearned English priest, truly or not I know not, “who for thirty years together” (perhaps it was on taking the first ablution in the Mass) “had always said, ‘Quod ore mumpsimus,’ instead of ‘Quod ore sumpsimus,’ and when, says Bentley, “a learned man told him of his blunder, ‘I’ll not change,’ says he, ‘my old Mumpsimus for your new Sumpsimus.’”  (Present Position of Catholics in England, Lecture 3, Fable the Basis of the Protestant View)

A contemporary parallel: “I’ll not change my old Missa murmurata for your new Missa lecta,” or, “I’ll not change my rubricae personales for your rubricae generales.”

Conclusion

I would like to close with a well-known meditation in which Newman reminds us that God has made us and placed us here, right now, for a reason, whether we grasp it or not, and that each of us has our role in the great scheme of things — in the working out of His plan for the salvation of men and the triumph of the Cross:

God has created me to do Him some definite service; He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission — I never may know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. Somehow I am necessary for His purposes, as necessary in my place as an Archangel in his — if, indeed, I fail, He can raise another, as He could make the stones children of Abraham. Yet I have a part in this great work; I am a link in a chain, a bond of connexion between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good, I shall do His work; I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it, if I do but keep His commandments and serve Him in my calling.
       Therefore I will trust Him. Whatever, wherever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. My sickness, or perplexity, or sorrow may be necessary causes of some great end, which is quite beyond us. He does nothing in vain; He may prolong my life, He may shorten it; He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends, He may throw me among strangers, He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide the future from me — still He knows what He is about.
       O Adonai, O Ruler of Israel, Thou that guidest Joseph like a flock, O Emmanuel, O Sapientia, I give myself to Thee. I trust Thee wholly. Thou art wiser than I — more loving to me than I myself. Deign to fulfil Thy high purposes in me whatever they be — work in and through me. I am born to serve Thee, to be Thine, to be Thy instrument. Let me be Thy blind instrument. I ask not to see — I ask not to know — I ask simply to be used.  (Meditations and Devotions, Part III, I. Hope in God — Creator, n. 2)

How moving is this meditation, when we think of Newman’s own heroic fidelity, often under very trying circumstances, to the “definite service and mission” God entrusted to him! And how moving for us today, when so many Catholics feel themselves to be “in sickness, in perplexity, in sorrow,” at the spirit of worldliness that has swept through and conquered the human side of the Church!

What a marvel to behold the sublime realism, the integrity and honesty, the unbending trust in Providence disclosed in this meditation and prayer. Christ will conquer. Truth and righteousness will have the final word. We are not likely to see it or know it in this life, but we still beg the Lord to use us for His glory, to work in and through us during our pilgrimage of faith. “I do not ask to see / The distant scene — one step enough for me.”

St. John Henry Newman, pray for us.

Newman's private chapel, where he offered the Tridentine Mass
(photo courtesy of Liturgical Arts Journal)

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