A feature, not a bug.

Patrick O'Hannigan writes on Purgatory:

Christopher Hitchens does not correspond with B-list pundits like me, but I'm glad you quoted from at least some of what he's emailed to you. I hope all who read Mr. Hitchens' take on the so-called "invention of Purgatory" realize that his theology makes as much sense as clown shoes in a tango class. Purgatory does not involve "the possibility of some kind of appeal." Rather, as Christians like Peter Kreeft have pointed out many times, Purgatory can be thought of as "heaven's waiting room." More formally, "final purification of the elect" is -- per the Catechism of the Catholic Church, with which I think you are familiar -- entirely different from the punishment of the damned. The backhand from Hitchens calling the doctrine of Purgatory an "invention" was likewise unwarranted, albeit predictable. Two clicks on the Web might have given Hitchens' cockamamie "invention" thesis an "insuperable problem" of its own, while it tried in vain to explain why graffiti in the catacombs includes prayers for the dead, which make no sense if they're already enjoying the beatific vision or eternally separated from God in Hell.


Richard Dawkins actually comes closer to the mark by summarizing Purgatory as a kind of divine Ellis Island, although I'm not persuaded he would have put the matter quite like that if he thought the whole doctrine were certifiably ridiculous. Not to get all "inside baseball" on people who'd rather play poker, but that the misguided Johann Tetzel sullied Purgatory by leaning too hard on the corollary doctrine of indulgences while raising money to fund the construction of Saint Peter's Basilica does not mean that postmodern cynics like Hitchens and Dawkins know more about the Four Last Things than ancient heavyweights like Aquinas and Augustine.

And here are two really solid ideas that deserve meditation.

First, history:

Perhaps another reason for the decline of faith lies just there, in widespread ignorance of history. Looking forward is all to the good, but Christians ought to be able to look back as well, and the megachurches of my experience seem to have a problem with that, especially when they make a point of ignoring anything too closely associated with the "mackerel snappers" from which they're spinoffs. For example, a popular church in my own town has a main campus and several satellite campuses. Its founding pastor, an eloquent gentleman on the dark side of fifty, said in a sermon (sorry, "message") that he went to a Catholic Mass for the first time while visiting the Holy Land less than a decade ago. Perhaps that explains why the web site for his church now cycles through a banner saying "We are one church in multiple locations." In less charitable moments, I've wanted to approach that guy with a Chick-fil-a sandwich in hand (peace offering!) and say something like "Dude! That one church in multiple locations idea? That's two thousand years old, man!" Of course, syntax like that would betray both my California roots and my Roman Catholic sympathies; it's not a conversation I'm ready to have yet.

Second, why religion?  Why not just "spirituality?

You mentioned that religious faith is like a muscle that has to be exercised. I think the analogy is apt, and orders of magnitude better than comedian George Carlin's attempt to paint faith as something like "a lift in your shoe" (meaning that some people need it and some don't). Father Benedict Groeschel's thoughts are especially helpful in this regard. You may perhaps have heard of him; he's a legend among Catholic preachers and a fixture in the Bronx. In the gray habit he wears as a Franciscan Friar of the Atonement, Groeschel looks for all the world like a stunt double for Gandalf in The Lord of the Rings movies. At the end of his nonfiction book, "The Miracle Detective," Randall Sullivan quotes Fr. Groeschel as saying, "Faith is a gift. It is also a decision. Accept the gift, and you'll make the decision."

Thanks for the ideas.

Being a Man.

Patrick O'Hannigan reviews two books that might just help our sons be better men.

"Spiritual but not religious."

A phrase that gives me a toothache.

Patrick O'Hannigan on "Does God Hate Religion?"

Obviously the problem, when there is one, lies not in religion as such but in the unconverted hearts of people who make religious observance a burden for others. Jesus never railed against faith (which is nurtured by religion), but always railed against hypocrisy (which taints religion as much as anything else in our lives). You can make the case that Jesus called the Pharisees "whitewashed sepulchers" and "vipers" not because being professionally religious is a bad thing, but because it entails living to a higher standard than, for instance, your average tax collector.

If God hated religion, would Jesus have been angry with the moneylenders who defiled the temple by turning it into a bazaar? Would he have asked his cousin John to baptize him in the Jordan River, assuring that wild man that the overtly religious act of baptism was necessary so that the two of them could together "fulfill all righteousness"?

Would Jesus have told Peter that the "gates of Hell" would not prevail against his church if he had no use for churches?

It is also worth noting that after curing a leper, Jesus instructed him to show himself to the priests (Lk. 5:14) and to "offer for your cleansing what Moses prescribed."

Finally, it seems doubtful that a God who hated religion would inspire the author of the First Letter to Timothy to identify the church as "the pillar and foundation of truth."

It is religion, not relationship, that describes Jesus as the Messiah and the "Lamb of God." Neither of those titles makes any sense except in a religious context. Moreover, as a devout Jew, Jesus said the Shema prayer ("Hear O Israel, the LORD is our G-d, the LORD is one") daily. He observed Passover and other religious feasts with his disciples. When speaking to crowds, he took for granted that they were religious, too, and demonstrated it ("You have heard it said . . .") by introducing quotations from the Torah before offering his definitive re-interpretation of them

Certainly there were religious authorities who conspired against Jesus, but there were also some on his side (here's looking at you, Joseph of Arimathea, member of the Sanhedrin). Moreover, had religion as such been tainted for all time by the actions of the priests who bullied the Romans into crucifying Jesus, had the violent death of an innocent man been the inevitable result of taking religion too seriously, then this serious drawback would have been recognized as such by Jesus, who was recognized as "teaching with authority, and not like the scribes." Instead, Jesus prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."


There is, in other words, a mountain of evidence to suggest that God blesses "that old-time religion," properly understood, as an aid to union with him. We need religion to focus our minds and remind us of the stakes involved in our sojourn through this vale of tears.

Does God hate religion? On the contrary, he perfected it.