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Coping

An article by Karl Vaters entitled “13 Reasons Not to Worry About the Future of the Church” offers insight into how Christians are dealing with the nosedive in attendance and affiliation they are experiencing in America. Vaters acknowledges this immediately:

The church is in trouble.

It must be. My blog feed keeps telling me it is.

For several years now, barely a day goes by without someone writing about the imminent demise of the body of Christ.

Everyone seems to have a different reason why they think the church is dying:

  • The “nones” are growing faster than the church
  • The “dones” are leaving faster than we’re replacing them
  • People aren’t singing together any more
  • Offerings are way down
  • Regulars attend less often than they used to

The post-pandemic turndown seems to be permanent in many places
But despite all the gloom and doom, I have not lost one moment of sleep over the demise of the church.

That Vaters feels no stress reveals the basic disconnect between believers and non-believers on this matter, and that gap is, I’m afraid, permanent and unbridgeable.

It’s evident from the first of thirteen points he makes:

Point 1: The Church Belongs to Jesus, Not Us.

The explanation for this point is one sentence: “And Jesus knows what he’s doing.” God is in control, believers insist, and so even if it looks bleak, his steadfastness is cause for calm. But this, of course, assumes that Jesus/God exists and operates the way Christians believe he does. They are not open to the possibility that the reason people are leaving religion is because they’ve realized the truth: gods don’t exist. Instead, these people are somehow deceived or never were Christians to begin with. This seems a little obvious, perhaps even axiomatic, but the shortsightedness inherent in such a position (“We could be wrong!”) means they will be in constant denial about the reality of the problem, and as it worsens, some of Vaters’s more moderate positions might radicalize.

Point 2: The Picture Is Not As Bleak as We Think

His second point is an attempt to make things global:

While the European and North American church is dealing with significant issues, the church in many parts of the world is experiencing strong, steady growth. As reported at Lifeway.com, “There are fewer atheists around the world today (147 million) than in 1970 (165 million), and the Gordon-Conwell report expects the number to continue to decline into 2050.” Plus, “Not only is religion growing overall, but Christianity specifically is growing,” especially in the global south.

We could summarize this point as follows: Sure, in the West, where scientific literacy is steadily rising, religion is on the decline. But in the developing world, where scientific literacy lags, it’s growing.

If the growth of your religion is most pronounced where scientific literacy is most lacking, it doesn’t say much about the foundations of your religion.

Point 3: The Church Always Thrives Under Persecution

Christians have a persecution complex: they see it as inevitable because it’s throughout the New Testament. True Christians suffer for their faith. This is so engrained in the Christian psyche that I’m not surprised it appears this early and only surprised that it wasn’t the second point.

If persecution is coming to the American church (which is where almost all of this hand-wringing is coming from) it may reduce church attendance numbers and perceived cultural influence, but it won’t kill the church.

Prosperity is far more dangerous to the church than persecution has ever been. As the Puritan writer Cotton Mather put it in the early 1700s, “Religion brought forth prosperity, and the daughter destroyed the mother.”

This point seems more like pop psychology than measured reasoning. It also ignores the reality driving this decline. People aren’t leaving the church because they have cushy lives — not exclusively, anyway. They’re realizing they don’t need this in their lives anymore, and they have tools at their disposal (read: the internet) that put dissenting views and reasoning well within their grasp. They can begin by feeling church is just not for them anymore and fill that in later (as they so choose) with good critical analysis of Christian theology that makes them add, “Well, not only do I not need it but it also just doesn’t really make a lot of sense when I think about it.”

Point 4: Loss of Privilege Is Not the Same As Persecution

This point is actually refreshing.

The removal of the Ten Commandments monument from a courthouse is not persecution.

I’m not saying it’s good, but it’s not persecution.

There are Christians in places like Syria and Iran who know what real persecution feels like. When we claim persecution for what is a loss of privilege, we minimize the real persecution our brothers and sisters face all over the world today.

It does feel a little like Vaters can’t make up his mind, though: are Christians facing persecution or not? As church attendance continues to dwindle, he might shift his opinion on this a bit.

Point 5: The Church Is at Its Best When We Are Counter-Cultural

I get the feeling that this is an attempt to be a little edgy, but it is in fact quite ridiculous:

The church doesn’t hold the reins of power well. We’re better in a burr-in-the-saddle role than being the conquering hero on the stallion. Let’s leave that role to Jesus himself.

Christianity has dominated the Western world for most of the last 1,700 years. It’s had a near-total monopoly on the culture. Its myths fill our collective consciousness. For hundreds of years it had the power to compel compliance through various means (including torture). To suggest that at any time in modern history it’s only been a “burr-in-the-saddle” of society is absolutely ridiculous.

This is why Christians are panicking. They are losing that monopoly. They are losing their political and cultural power. And they are going crazy about it.

Point 6: The Church Is Bigger than Our Buildings and Our Denominations

Churches are being turned into residential units, bars, and even skateparks. What are we to make of that?

We are likely to lose many church buildings in the coming decades. This will be especially challenging for churches with full-time pastors and a mortgage. I also foresee massive stress points coming for most, if not all, denominations.

I sympathize with those who love their church’s historic building and their denomination, only to lose one or both. But I’m grateful that buildings and denominations are not needed for the church to survive and thrive.

In fact, we may need to lean on our buildings and denominations less in order to lean on Jesus more.

This point is just to serve as a balm to those handwringing traditionalists who are upset about the material decline in the church, nothing else.

Point 7: The Church Is People Who Love Jesus, God’s Word, and Each Other

If churches aren’t buildings, what are they?

This is one of the main reasons the church thrives under persecution. It forces us to turn to what really matters and can never be taken away – loving Jesus, following the Bible, and caring for each other.

Churches (particularly Protestant churches, especially those that align with the Evangelical movement) maintain their hold on people through the social cohesion they provide. Non-theistic churches are forming that attempt to fill this void, so this point is a non-starter from the beginning.

Point 8: The Church Has Faced Bigger Problems Than This (Whatever Your “This” May Be)

Besides, Vaters says, it’s not all that bad:

Whatever your real or perceived church crisis may be, it is not “the greatest calamity the church has ever faced.”

We tend to magnify the severity of small pains that are close to us, while diminishing the reality of much larger pains that are further removed from us.

The church has faced far bigger problems than what most of us are currently experiencing, but those problems are so far away from us that they feel insignificant. The church survived them all.

But it is that bad. Christians fail, intentionally or unconsciously, to realize exactly what the problem is.

The internet is killing the church. It is exposing young people to more and more arguments against theism in general and Christianity in particular. These ideas weren’t widely diseminated in times past. A thousand years ago, uttering such criticism would risk death. Now, it’s everywhere. And content creators are getting better and better at presenting the dark and illlogical sides of Christanity, and Christianity just keeps throwing the same apologetics mud at them. And here, the internet applies something new: reactions to those apologetics. Discections of those apologetics. Critical analysis of those apologetics. So not only does the internet provide the initial explanation of why Christianity makes no sense, it provides answers to Christians’ attempts to explain away those faultlines and fractures, and it shows apologetics to be hollow, shallow, and repetative.

Point 9: My Corner of the Church Is Not the Church

I’m not sure why Vaters put this one in here:

My segment of the body of Christ may be tied to a particular worship style, theological stance, historical background, denominational identity, or any of a wide variety of other distinctives. But the way I worship is not the church. It’s just my little corner of it. If the way I like to worship becomes less popular, that has nothing to do with the strength of the church as a whole.

In fact – brace yourselves – even if the church in America collapses, as tragic as that would be, it would not mean the end of the church.

Jesus has sheep that are not of this fold.

It’s really a tweak of point 6.

Point 10: Maybe the Parts that Can’t Survive Shouldn’t

This point seems like it’s going in a direction of critical self-examination.

I know that sounds harsh, and it may even be triggering for many small-church pastors who have heard something similar because of their lack of numerical gowth. But the small church is not the issue.

This is not a point about size, but of type.

Anything Jesus does will not just survive, but thrive. Eternally. So I have to wonder, if my favorite form of church is dying, maybe it’s because Jesus isn’t building it?

Everything but the church itself (as defined in point #7, above) has an expiration date. No denomination, worship style, or tradition is forever. Sometimes a congregation, tradition, or denomination dies because it has finished serving its purpose.

This point is not meant to trivialize the very real pain of a local church going through serious hardships. I stand with you. Like John said to the suffering saints in Philadelphia (Rev 3:7-13), “I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name.” You have my heart, my prayers, and any help I can offer.

Instead, though, Vaters is simply using an old apologetics technique applied to those those who leave the faith to explain why some churches are failing: they weren’t really Christian.

Point 11: The Church Is the Most Relentlessly Growing Organism In History

This, too, is a short point — two sentences.

For almost 2,000 years of great triumphs and horrifying persecution, the church keeps going.

When Jesus builds something it tends to stand. And stand strong.

The fact that it’s been dominate in the political and cultural machinary of Europe and America for centuries has nothing to do with its longevity. It’s all Jesus’s work.

Remember when we used to worshop Zeus? Neither do I. Worshiping Jesus will eventually seem as antiquated.

Point 12: Worry Doesn’t Work

Another one-sentence explanation: “In fact, worry makes it worse.” This smacks of desparation, but I could be reading more into it than is really there.

Point 13: Jesus Told Us Not to Worry About Anything

The bottom line:

You can toss the previous 12 points. This is all I need to know.

To wildly (but hopefully not inappropriately) paraphrase Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount from Matthew 5:25-33:

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your church building, where you will worship or fellowship; or about your denomination, what decisions it will make. Is not the church more important than buildings, and the faith more important than denominational creeds? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his church’s life or a dollar to its offering basket? But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Whatever is of worry is not of faith.

And we need all the faith we can get.

Vaters is doing his best to cope with the coming reality, but he’s still in denial, so he will never accept it when it comes.

karlvaters.com/future-of-the-church/

Monday Thoughts

School Thoughts

We received a new student on our team today: a fifteen-year-old boy from Central America who doesn’t speak a word of English and has not been in school since the first grade.

I have reservations.

I’m not fussing about any extra work entailed by having such a kid in my classroom. I’ve already got two complete-non-speakers and a fourth kid who barely speaks English. My reservations are about how effectively I can really help these kids. They are, of course, in my lowest level classes, which means there are a lot of behavior issues in those classes. I’m supposed to create a new curriculum for these boys because they’re so low with their English that modified materials don’t do anything for them in my class. In science, yes. In math, certainly. In social studies, a qualified yes. In English class, though? It’s impossible just to modify the curriculum. This newest student is illiterate in his first language: I can’t modify my curriculum that includes standards like “Determine one or more themes and analyze the development and relationships to character, setting, and plot over the course of a text; provide an objective summary” and “Determine the figurative and connotative meanings of words and phrases as they are used in text; analyze the impact of specific word choices on meaning and tone, including analogies texts.” You can’t do this with pictures. Besides, I struggle teaching the native speakers these things because of their low motivation — teaching a non-English-speaking student with the aid of pictures? Not going to happen. So I’ll have to invent a curriculum for these boys.

Is that type of teaching really in these boys’ best interest? Wouldn’t a part-time immersion with classes like gym and art coupled with a couple of direct English instruction courses be more effective? The people at the district office downtown will say, “No, the data don’t support that.” But I think that’s bullshit. I know from my own experience in Poland that dumping me into an environment where I didn’t speak the language without any direct language instruction would have only frustrated me, and that’s with me being 22 years old at that time. If I were only 14 in such a situation — forget it.

Parenting Thoughts

The Boy’s church league basketball team had their last game this evening, which sadly they lost 22-30. It was a tough season: they went 1-8. But it wasn’t the losing that bothered the Boy so much; it was the unsportsmanlike conduct so many of the players on the other teams exhibited. Tonight, for example, there was one boy who screamed at every shot attempt our team made in an effort to distract our boys.

I had some choice words to say in texts to K about this kid’s behavior.

“Just keep your cool,” she gently reminded me.

“Of course — he’s just a kid,” I replied. But that type of behavior doesn’t come from nowhere. Either his parents never tried to correct him because they saw nothing wrong with it, or they actively encouraged and/or taught him to behave like that.

Were I to coach such a kid, I’d tell him and his parents, “Look, if you do that, I bench you for the quarter. You do it again, it’s for the rest of the game. And every time after that, it’s for the rest of the game.”

The Boy’s inherently empathetic outlook on things means such behavior would never enter his mind. Was that something we had to teach him? I guess we did, but I don’t remember doing so, and I suspect his empathy would lead him not to do that even if we didn’t explicitly teach him that.

Hearts

School Drama

How much of drama in the school is from adult modeling, both in the popular media and the home? The norm is to be upset about something, to be stressed about something, to feel wronged by someone. It’s a victimization mentality, a life lived in the passive voice and ordered by second and third conditionals. What we see on the tabloids while waiting to check out at Publix is what the kids try to emulate in their daily interactions with others, both because of what they see in the media and because the media informs the behavior of so many adults around them.

Watch any reality TV show: it is one constant conflict. Granted, it’s a hyped, artificial conflict: this or that individual doesn’t want to get kicked of this or that show, and the backstabbing and conniving of other participants creates conflict and heightens audience self-identification: “Hey, I’ve been stabbed in the back like that myself!” we say when we known someone’s scheming on reality TV has paid off.

That ain’t us

“Every single kid in this class been suspended at least once.”

It was a fair claim, and honestly speaking, I knew the girl who said it might actually be right. At least for half a second, that’s what I thought. A quiet voice beside me reminded me that that probably wasn’t the case.

“I haven’t.”

The shy words came from one of the best students in the class, a hard work boy who never has any behavior problems. The two girls with whom I was speaking — with whom I’d drifted so off topic from our classwork that I felt somewhat guilty continuing it and did so only because of a perceived need to explain some basic facts to some confused girls — the two girls just looked at him. I jumped in.

“And in fact I can show you a whole class of students that have never been suspended.” I had in mind my honors group, but times are changing, and being in an honors class no longer necessarily means perfect behavior, so they argued, tossing a couple of names at me. Knowing they were likely right, I persisted nonetheless in asserting that none of them had been suspended.

Finally, the girls turned to the fatalistic refrain of at-risk kids: “Well, that’s them, not us.”

“But it could be you,” I suggested, and one would think I’d suggested that they could fly to the moons of Jupiter by their own power, such was the looks of disbelief.

“That ain’t us!” they insisted.

The Bird

The kids are all taking a benchmark test. We’re spending two hours of each of the two days students will be in school taking a district-mandated benchmark test, which, truth be told, will be of little to no value to me. I know where my students are; I know where we’re going; I know what I haven’t covered. Further, I know the students better than a benchmark could show

In the midst of all this, a bird flies up to the window and perches on the sill. It cocks its head as it investigates all the humanoid forms on the inside, all hunched over glowing boxes, almost all oblivious to the bird’s presence. Except Anna. She’s sitting next to the window and has watched the bird flutter up. She takes a break from her test and looks over at the bird, smiling and likely grateful for the break the bird’s presence has brought.

Birds come to this window regularly, but their presence injects a bit of tragic chaos into the class atmosphere. Twice this year, birds have flown into the window with a sickening thud, only to lie outside the window slowly dying of the blunt force trauma the window and physics delivered. They flap about just outside our window as if they are trying to distract a predator to lure it away from its nest. These times, though, the bird is not faking. 

Startling Admission

When I listened to Pack’s rant about the individual who left the RCG because he was tired of “faking it,” my initial thoughts were regarding what the individual meant by “faking.” It was only later that I considered the simple fact that mentioning it at all shows a startling lack of critical thinking, a Pack-ian level of egocentrism, or some combination of the two. It was a great and foolish risk Pack took because that comment undoubtedly resonated with members sitting in the headquarters building and reverberated throughout the small congregations worldwide.

Pack probably can’t imagine the number of people in his church who heard that comment and felt it as an indictment of themselves. He suggested it was a question of lying; the individual who quit and everyone remaining who nonetheless relate to the statement all understand it as a question of self-preservation. Pack intended it as an insult to the individual of little faith who was lying by his very presence among true believers; his audience heard it as a tacit admission that the cognitive dissonance required to remain in the RCG is simply overwhelming for many. Pack meant to insult the former member; instead, he only drew attention to his own failures and the cognitive/emotional stress they create.

This highlights just how far Pack has retreated into his own ego. He can’t even realize when the decisions of others are a clear condemnation of his own actions. Sequestered in his compound, his every need handled by others, he can’t even imagine the mental anguish his followers are suffering. Everything he says and does filters through the lens of his own ego, and the refraction of that lens is so complete that Pack literally cannot differentiate his own ego from the world around him.

I know we all hate Hitler comparisons, but I can’t help but draw parallels between Hitler’s decision-making process at the end of the war and Pack’s at what appears to be the end of the RCG. As the Soviets encircled Berlin and defeat became inevitable and obvious, Hitler moved battalions that essentially no longer existed and ordered attacks from army groups that had been decimated. He remained convinced of his certain victory, and he discussed the stunning blow his imaginary, newly-rebuilt Luftwaffe was about to deliver despite the fact that the Allies had complete domination of the skies of Europe. Surrounded by sycophants who were terrified of crossing him, Hitler lived in an echo chamber that only confirmed and compounded his delusions.

Even more telling, when the battle had begun turning months earlier, there might have been a chance for Germany to fight to a stalemate in the east and gain some time to rebuild its forces. Had Hitler ordered the cessation of transports to concentration camps and used those trains to shuttle soldiers to the eastern front, he could have at least slowed his defeat and perhaps prevented it completely. Instead, he did the opposite: he increased the transports to the camps and left his soldiers on the Soviet front with inadequate manpower and supplies. He couldn’t see past his own ego and his sick obsession with being an ultimate “hero” by rendering Europe judenfrei regardless of the war’s outcome. His inward-looking decisions thankfully cost him the war, because simply based on the numbers in 1939, Germany should have conquered Europe.

Similarly, we seem to see this playing out in Europe yet again. Putin has isolated himself, believes his own propaganda, and is convinced of his military genius and his force’s ultimate strength. Since the outbreak of the Covid pandemic, Putin has lived in almost complete isolation, and his view of the outside world reflects that. He attacked Ukraine on an imagined pretense; he was confident of a quick victory because his army certainly had to be at least as strong as his ego; his forces suffer loss after loss because he either can’t or won’t concede that his tactics are not working. His ego inflates yet again and more people suffer as a result.

In just the same way, Pack’s ego and his certainty in his prophetic acumen have swelled to proportions that conceal everything else. He, too, has surrounded himself with sycophants and isolated himself not only from the real world but from the lay members that constitute the intellectual isolation that is the RCG. The army that is encircling the compound at Wadsworth is more powerful than the Soviet army, more persistent than the Ukrainian forces: it’s reality, the most merciless conqueror in history.

Aunt D

K and I went for the visitation for my Aunt Y in Rock Hill this evening, stopping by to pick up Aunt D.

“I’ve lost my last sibling,” she said several times.

First Tournament Back

The Girl played in her first tournament since her stomach issues today. Her team went 3-0, not dropping a single set.

And our Girl was on the court again, doing what she loves again.

It was good to see.

Hell

www.ncregister.com/commentaries/jimmy-akin-being-precise-about-catholic-church-teaching-on-hell

Pope Francis recently sparked a discussion when he told an Italian television program, “What I am going to say is not a dogma of faith but my own personal view: I like to think of hell as empty; I hope it is.”

I was not surprised he would have this view. It is common in some ecclesiastical circles and was proposed by theologian and priest Hans Urs von Balthasar in his book Dare We Hope That All Men Be Saved?

Given how Pope Francis’ comments often function as a lightning rod, I was not surprised by the discussion that followed, and one contribution was a recent article by Ralph Martin.

Although framed as a piece about what the Church teaches on hell, Martin spent much of it arguing for his own view, which is the traditional one, that hell is both a real possibility and an actual reality for many people. He explores this further in his book Will Many Be Saved?

I wish Martin well in arguing his case — and arguing it vigorously. The thought that hell might be a real but unrealized possibility is a comforting one that can be attractive to many today. However, Scripture contains serious warnings about hell that do not sound hypothetical.

As a result, the theological field should not simply be ceded to what we moderns find comfortable and reassuring. If there is to be any reassessment of the traditional view of hell as an actual reality for many, Scripture’s statements need to be taken seriously and both sides need to be argued vigorously.

(I’d note, in particular, that in his book von Balthasar never even addresses Luke 13:23-24, where in response to the question, “Lord, will those who are saved be few?” Jesus responds, “Strive to enter by the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able.”)

My sympathies are thus with Martin, but I would refine a few things about his article.

First, regarding Pope Francis’ statement that what he was about to say was “not a dogma of faith,” Martin offers a definition of dogma that could suggest it is restricted to revealed truths connected with salvation. I would point out, by contrast, that in current theological jargon, a dogma is any truth that the Catholic Church has infallibly defined to be divinely revealed, whether or not it has any direct connection with salvation. (Culpably rejecting a dogma is a mortal sin; but the truth itself doesn’t have to have a direct connection with salvation.)

Second, there is a passage where Martin conveys a misleading impression about the views of Cardinal Avery Dulles. First, he says that “the traditional interpretation … by the Church’s greatest theologians is that it is very likely that many people go [to hell],” then he identifies Cardinal Dulles as “perhaps the leading American theologian of the 20th century,” and then he cites a 2003 article that Dulles wrote in First Things.

The problem is that Martin quotes a part of the article in which Cardinal Dulles refers to several passages of Scripture and says, “Taken in their obvious meaning, passages such as these give the impression that there is a hell, and that many go there; more in fact, than are saved.” The impression is thus that Cardinal Dulles is firmly in the line of “the Church’s greatest theologians” who believe that “many go there; more in fact, than are saved.”

However, this is not Cardinal Dulles’s view. He notes the obvious interpretation of various Bible passages without asserting that the obvious one is the only possible one. In fact, he concludes:

The search for numbers in the demography of hell is futile. God in His wisdom has seen fit not to disclose any statistics. Several sayings of Jesus in the Gospels give the impression that the majority are lost. Paul, without denying the likelihood that some sinners will die without sufficient repentance, teaches that the grace of Christ is more powerful than sin: “Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more” (Romans 5:20). Passages such as these permit us to hope that very many, if not all, will be saved.

All told, it is good that God has left us without exact information. If we knew that virtually everybody would be damned, we would be tempted to despair. If we knew that all, or nearly all, are saved, we might become presumptuous. If we knew that some fixed percent, say fifty, would be saved, we would be caught in an unholy rivalry. We would rejoice in every sign that others were among the lost, since our own chances of election would thereby be increased. Such a competitive spirit would hardly be compatible with the gospel.

Martin’s article thus conveys a misleading impression of Dulles.

What does the Church actually teach? This is found in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, which says, in part, “The teaching of the Church affirms the existence of hell and its eternity. Immediately after death the souls of those who die in a state of mortal sin descend into hell” (1035).

The Church thus teaches that hell is a real possibility. If you die in mortal sin, you go there. But does the Church leave room for the idea that God might rescue all from mortal sin — even at the last moment?

The Catechism states, “The Church prays that no one should be lost: ‘Lord, let me never be parted from you.’ If it is true that no one can save himself, it is also true that God ‘desires all men to be saved’ (1 Timothy 2:4), and that for him ‘all things are possible’ (Matthew 19:26)” (Catechism, 1058).

The Catechism thus seems open to the possibility that God — for whom “all things are possible” — might be able to rescue all from mortal sin and thus hell might be empty.

This view seems to be permitted on other grounds. After von Balthasar proposed it in Dare We Hope, Pope St. John Paul II named him a cardinal — specifically for his theological contributions — though Father von Balthasar died before the consistory.

Further, as Cardinal Dulles notes in his 2003 article, John Paul II seemed to have a change of view on this subject. The cardinal notes that in his non-magisterial 1995 interview book Crossing the Threshold of Hope, the Pope raised Father von Balthasar’s view and says, “yet the words of Christ are unequivocal. In Matthew’s Gospel he speaks clearly of those who will go to eternal punishment.”

However, as the cardinal notes, in a magisterial text in 1999, Pope John Paul seemed to have shifted, saying, “Damnation remains a possibility, but we are not granted, without special divine revelation, the knowledge of whether or which human beings are effectively involved in it” (General Audience, July 28, 1999, emphasis added).

Based on what he said, John Paul was open on the question of “whether” human beings actually go to hell, and Cardinal Dulles concludes that “the Pope may have abandoned his criticism of Balthasar.”

It should be noted that in the version of the audience currently on the Vatican website, the words “whether or” have been deleted. However, this does not alter what John Paul II apparently said, and we cannot know why the words were deleted or whether John Paul II gave his approval to this edit.

For his part, Pope Benedict XVI also took an optimistic view regarding hell in his 2007 encyclical Spe Salvi. He states:

There can be people who have totally destroyed their desire for truth and readiness to love, people for whom everything has become a lie, people who have lived for hatred and have suppressed all love within themselves. This is a terrifying thought, but alarming profiles of this type can be seen in certain figures of our own history. In such people all would be beyond remedy and the destruction of good would be irrevocable: this is what we mean by the word hell (45).

He then contrasts these with people who are so pure they go straight to heaven and then concludes:

Yet we know from experience that neither case is normal in human life. For the great majority of people — we may suppose — there remains in the depths of their being an ultimate interior openness to truth, to love, to God (46).

This latter category goes to purgatory to be purified. Pope Benedict thus thought that “we may suppose” that few go to hell, few go directly to heaven, and “the great majority of people” go to purgatory before heaven.

We thus see the three most recent popes taking optimistic views of hell, with the later John Paul II seemingly open to the idea it may be empty, Benedict holding that we may suppose those who go there are few, and Francis hoping that it is empty.

I’m firmly convinced of the value for theological discussion of vigorously arguing the traditional view that some and even many go to hell — and hearing what the optimists have to say in response. 

At the same time, when presenting the teaching of the Church, we should be aware of the flexibility that is being displayed on this matter, including by the recent popes.

The Girls

I was on my way out to my car when the two little Muslim sisters (I knew this because they both cover their heads with scarves) passed me. I greeted them and somehow, we began talking. A group of their friends, all girls, gathered around us, all talking to me at almost the same time. I asked them where they’re from, and one girl said that she’s from Afghanistan.

“Do you speak Dari or Pashto at home?” I asked. Her jaw dropped.

“You know those?!”

“No, no, not how to speak them. I just know they exist. I know they’re the primary languages of Afghanistan.”

She smiled ear to ear: “We speak Pashto.”

“I’m from Iran,” another girl said. “I speak Persian at home.”

“Oh — Farsi, right? Isn’t ‘thank you’ in Farsi ‘Mersi’?” I asked.

Another jaw dropped.

“I just always found it strangely beautiful that it’s a loan word from French.”

“Do you speak French” the lone boy asked.

“Un peu,” I responded, winking, hoping he wouldn’t push me beyond my meager limits in the language.

But before that could happen, one of the young covered girls announced, “I’m Fatima!” They’d been telling me their names, and she finally got hers squeezed in.

“Oh, like the prophet Mohammed’s daughter, right?” I asked.

Her eyes got enormous and she ran back into the classroom, presumably to tell someone.

The fact that I know these little tidbits seemed to me simply basic education about other cultures. I know Dari and Pashto were Afghan languages because of our country’s involvement in that country and learning a little about it and its history at that point. I know “mersi” was one way in Farsi to say “thank you” because I sat next to an Iranian woman and her child on a flight from Charlotte to Munich in 2015 when I followed K and the kids to Poland a few weeks after they’d left. I know Mohammed’s daughter was Fatima because I read parts of a book about the supposed apparitions of Mary at Fatima. I know a bit of French because I too two years of it in college. Just a few tidbits of knowledge about these girls’ (and one boy’s) language and culture, but it seemed to make their day.

So little to create so much.

Overheard

“We’re just trying to teach the responsibility,” she said, explaining the reasoning her son’s teacher gave for assigning some work that the mother felt was unnecessary.

The words had hardly left her mouth when her interlocutor jumped in with how he would have responded and perhaps in doing so, suggesting how she likely replied or wanted to respond: “That’s my job.”

So many ideas packed into that handful of words.

The overarching notion is that there are some things that a teacher teaches, but there are some things that only a parent teaches. This notion of non-overlapping domains is popular with those who lean right, and it is fast becoming a key right-wing talking point. Whether it’s issues of race or questions of gender, the right is quick to point out that there are things that parents teach and it’s hands-off for everyone else.

I’m certainly not suggesting that there aren’t things that are predominantly in the domain of parents. Religion, for example, is something that as far as proselytizing is strictly off-limits for teachers, and rightly so. The problem with religion and issues about science is that the right is constantly redefining what is acceptable. It’s no longer acceptable, some feel, merely to teach students the beliefs and rituals of other religions for them to be educated about the beliefs and motivations of others. This is growing to include ideas like scientific literacy. Young Earth creationist parents resist the teaching of evolution in schools as an infringement on their religion as much as they do about teaching students the basics of Buddhist belief. If it contradicts or threatens Christian faith, they want it out.

Perhaps none of this applies to the individuals I overheard. Perhaps it all is. (Living in the South and overhearing this at a Scouting function, I would suspect it’s likely that at least some of it is.) What I found most interesting was the realization I had on hearing this that many parents in America have no idea at all what’s going on in schools. Teaching responsibility might very well be something the parent I heard does regularly and well, but schools are filled with students who are not taught these basic things at home. Teachers have to pick up the slack that negligent parents, overwhelmed parents, single parents, and any other parents leave.

Changes

Some time ago, I was looking for something in the Wayback Machine, and it struck me that I might grab a few shots of what this site has looked like.

As many changes and as radically different (yet the same) as the subjects of the blog itself…

First, there was the original look:

November 2004

It was running on Text Pattern, which was basic. And my design was basic. Because my skills were basic. But there was that classic header:

I still kind of like it…

Some years were unavailable in the Wayback Machine, so suddenly, we jump seven years to 2010:

May 2010

By then, I’d switched to WordPress, which gave me a lot more options as far as design goes.

February 2011

And with that freedom, I began to change the design regularly.

October 2011

With this being day 1500 of my daily posting streak, I thought it might be good to reflect on the site itself.

January 2013

I tried everything: magazine layouts,

March 2014

minimalist layouts,

December 2014

seasonal layouts, everything.

March 2018

Then I started using the Divi theme, and for about 6 years now, I’ve stuck with it.

May 2019

I’ve changed the header image,

June 2021

and I messed a bit with other design elements, but since about June of 2021, I’ve found something that I like and just hang with — except for the yearly change of the header image…

Today’s Only Picture

One of the things we accomplished this weekend was getting a new computer for the Boy. The Girl needs one, too, but we still don’t know the specs she’ll need for what programs she might be running in college. So today I got the computer set up and snapped a picture to text to E. He was at his friend’s house having some needed buddy time. However, he’d left his phone at home. So it was for naught. But I got a picture for the day out of it…

Win

The Boy’s team finally got their first win of the season today, and the Boy scored.