ACAT 26: The Incarnation

“Incarnation” literally means “taking on flesh.”  Jesus’ Incarnation is that moment when God took on human flesh – fully God, fully human.  As with our discussion of the Holy Trinity, these tenets of the Catholic faith are impossible to state in the kind of factual terms we might use to describe the natural world.  The Catechism is not a scientific proof; it is an outline of what is offered when we accept the invitation to believe.  There are no words or experiences with which to relate supernatural realities beyond our own.  Instead, we are invited to believe in Jesus Christ, God-With-Us, God-Made-Flesh, as proof of God’s love of, and investment in, humanity.

Lesson Seven goes into much useful detail about why the Incarnation took place, and it is well worth reading.  [Link here and search “Lesson 7”].  But what of our annotation for autistic thinkers?  How do we truly make a connection with something this inexplicable, yet – especially at this point in December – visibly depicted everywhere we look?

The Annotated Catechism approaches matters of faith by asking, “What is being described?  How does this pertain to me as an individual, and what is my role?”  Simply: our role is to be human – to have a soul and a body, to have free will and curious intellect, deliberately and individually designed, and given by God.

Within that makeup, however, is the stain we inherited from our ancestors’ disobedience, resulting in a distrust of humanity’s goodness and doubt surrounding God’s designs.  God warned that the consequence of disobedience would be death… not immediately, but instead of enjoying perpetual blessing, disobedience forfeited our bodily protection from pollution, decay and death.

Few reflexes are as primal and universal as the way we recoil in the presence of rot and flinch at imminent death.  “Thriller” films and novels evoke adrenaline for some and horror in others, but the same instinct is at play.  Even as many of us believe firmly that crossing over is the pathway home to God, there is an instinctive bodily opposition to pain, suffering and, ultimately, death.  This brings us to that paradoxical statement we sometimes hear in the course of evangelization: “God was born so that he could die.”  In all truth, that is a good way to sum up the Incarnation.  We also hear that “The sinless Jesus bore the stain of sin for us.”  But what does that mean?

Bishop Thorlak of Iceland was deeply influenced by the theology of Hugh of St. Victor, who explains the Incarnation in systematic terms of God’s desire to break through our barrier of distrust with demonstrable love.  The following insights come from Hugh of St. Victor’s De Sacramentis, Book Two, Part One.

First, some relational definitions.  Since God is Creator of all and Authority over all that is created, He cannot obey, as there is no authority outside Himself.  He cannot be sent forth, as there is none who might send Him.  He cannot choose between right and wrong, because He is Truth and Knowledge itself. And, God cannot die, as He is all in all of all.

Next: Our relationship with God was broken when our first ancestors disobediently ate the fruit which awakened the choice of exploiting God’s goodness for our own, solitary gain.  This gave rise to vice, which is the natural consequence of sin, and brought bodily death upon the human race as the final means by which our disordered inclinations can cease to plague our senses.  Humans have no natural ability to liberate ourselves from this inherited pattern.

God, grieving this consequence, knew that the only way to change this sequence without unraveling the makeup of humanity would be to somehow graft our broken nature back into the Godly line.  The logistical problem is that our nature is human, not Divine; and only God is God.

While humans cannot become God, could God become human?  Technically yes, but that would require his radically changing form and abdicating His Divinity, which would disintegrate all of Creation.  In order to reverse the curse affected by our ancestors, God would need the capacity to freely choose and obey, which (as shown above) is not possible if he remains Divine.

However: A son bears the name and inherited essence of his father.  A son with a human nature can freely choose to obey.  A son can be sent to carry on a father’s mission and values, becoming his de facto representative where he is sent.

Thus, God did not come as Creator to our earthly plane.  He sent His Son, born human of a human mother, with a human soul, free will, and earthly flesh.  Being born of Mary, who was preserved from inherited (original) sin, the Son would not have the same fallen focus self-gratification that other humans have; yet He would physically exist within the parameters of humanity – including subjection to bodily decay and death.

So: God sent a Son, Jesus, bearing His nature, to the womb of a mother free of original sin, so that He could live as a human, and die as a human.  God’s Son would act to reverse our disobedience, completely innocent of any vice but still obedient to the bodily the penalty of sin – death.  It is the equivalent of an innocent man offering to take the sentence of a convicted criminal, and serving it faithfully to its completion.

But… why?

We offer this admittedly oversimplified, but hopefully helpful analogy, addressing the question of God taking on the stain of sin and subjecting Himself to bodily death. Imagine God as an endless body of life-giving water free of all pollution.  When humanity partook of sin, we became splattered and caked with toxic waste, with no way to purify ourselves.  Dwelling directly with the water of God was no longer an option for us as we would poison all of Creation with our presence… but at the same time, that water is the only means by which we can detoxify from the pollution of sin.

How can we solve this conundrum?  We can’t return to Him polluted, and if God Himself were to descend, He, being pure water, would devastate and drown us!  But what if this pure water (God) could supernaturally take human form?  He would be a living, infinite source of life-giving water, simultaneously existing as, and contained by, a physical human body.  As God, He would be free of our pollution… but, would willingly mingle with us, acquiring more of our stain each time He infuses us with life-giving water.  He will dilute our sinful inclinations, that is, our toxicity, to the degree we accept His gift.  Some of us shrink back and say we are too dirty to ever think of mingling with God… some say that pollution is not bad and prefer to remain in the toxic state… and some will draw water from God’s Son again and again, wishing one day to return to that state of grace our ancestors knew before the stain of sin came into our line.  God, for His part, gives without account, as often as we wish, as often as we trust, as often as we accept.  He always invites, and never forces.

[Following our analogy to its conclusion: God’s human body eventually succumbed to the effects of our pollution.  But, being supernatural, it was only the physical, earthly form that died.  God knew that an earthly body could not live forever in our realm, so He made provisions for that in His scenario, which would include resurrection and establishment of a wider body, The Church.  That is an entirely different discussion for future commentary!]

This is all little more than a sketch which cannot compare to the deeper theology at hand.  For here, for now, let us conclude by revisiting our thought, “What is the Incarnation?  How does it pertain to us, and what is our role?”  May we find our answer close in our hearts.

ACAT 25: Mary’s Unstained, Unflinching Love

Catholic teaching on Mary is often a dividing line with other Christians, though it need not be.  Those familiar with the historical story of Jesus will know that his mother was Mary and his birth came about through Divine intervention.  Catholics do not worship Mary, but we do recognize her role in the story of human salvation – which includes the salvation of each individual reading this – and we understand that she has received the grace and privilege which comes with a role such as hers.

That word, immaculate, derives from Latin, and means “not stained.”  Mary does not possess superpowers of her own merit; rather, she is as ordinary as any other person, but unstained by the splash of evil which spilled in the Garden when our ancestors’ eyes were opened to all that destroys love.  Unstained = unaffected, untainted… and therefore, unflinching in her ability to love God and love like God.

This is what the Baltimore Catechism says about Mary’s Immaculate Conception.

  1. Was anyone ever preserved from Original Sin?
  2. The Blessed Virgin Mary, through the merits of her divine Son, was preserved free from the guilt of Original Sin, and this privilege is called her Immaculate Conception.

The Blessed Virgin was to be the Mother of the Son of God. Now it would not be proper for the Mother of God to be even for one moment the servant of the devil, or under his power. If the Blessed Virgin had been in Original Sin, she would have been in the service of the devil. Whatever disgraces a mother disgraces also her son; so Our Lord would never permit His dear Mother to be subject to the devil, and consequently He, through His merits, saved her from Original Sin. She is the only one of the whole human race who enjoys this great privilege, and it is called her “Immaculate Conception,” that is, she was conceived—brought into existence by her mother—without having any spot or stain of sin upon her soul, and hence without Original Sin.

Our Lord came into the world to crush the power which the devil had exercised over men from the fall of Adam. This He did by meriting grace for them and giving them this spiritual help to withstand the devil in all his attacks upon them. As the Blessed Mother was never under the devil’s power, next to God she has the greatest strength against him, and she will help us to resist him if we seek her aid. The devil himself knows her power and fears her, and if he sees her coming to our assistance will quickly fly. Never fail, then, in time of temptation to call upon our Blessed Mother; she will hear and help you and pray to God for you.

Mary’s Immaculate Conception cannot be explained much more directly than the Catechism itself.  Many struggle to understand or believe what this means, as it is not something we can directly observe, experience or relate to.  It is, quite simply, a matter of faith – which is our willingness to accept things beyond our experiences with confidence that such belief does not compromise our freedom or integrity in any way.  Furthermore, it is a comfort to many to know that Mary is as human as we are, yet has the privilege to repulse evil with her prayer.  Evil is ugly.  Evil destroys.  Evil seeks to break up what is beautiful for the sake of jealousy.  Anyone who stands opposed to evil is on the side of what we’re all longing for.  The Catholic Catechism assures us that Mary is humankind’s advocate against the division and destruction of evil by virtue of her unstained, unflinching love.

ACAT 18: God’s Governing Style

In exploring God’s infinite perfection, the Baltimore Catechism leads us to three more attributes to ponder, and all in one sentence.  Question 20 of Lesson Two explores the style in which God governs his creation by asking if God is just, holy and merciful.  The answer given is a threefold, interrelated “yes,” with each attribute explicitly defined:

Just: Providing what is deserved, whether merit or punishment

Holy: Exalted in goodness

Merciful: Less exacting than justice demands

The Baltimore text gives an example of a judge in a court of law who is motivated by wisdom and virtue.  A criminal found guilty in this court will be sentenced according to what is right – no more, no less.  Occasionally, circumstance will arise where the person’s guilt is mitigated by factors beyond control, such as impaired thinking, ignorance of the law or extreme and immediate need.  In such cases, a just judge would show mercy by overriding the typical sentence with something more fitting, and in no way does this suggest the judge is corrupt or bending any rules.  A just judge follows the rules.  A holy judge asks what is morally right.  A merciful judge considers each person’s humanity and frailty, and keeps or adjusts decisions based on what will lead that person to a better way of life.

When taken together, these three attributes form a solid platform of checks and balances.  Any overreliance on one detracts from the ability of the others to achieve their intention.  God’s justice is no less real than God’s mercy, yet neither dominate, nor do they switch off and on.  All three operate simultaneously at any given moment: justice and mercy bound together in holiness.  However many sermons, books and homilies may focus on one aspect over the other, the reality is a constant, perfect and simultaneous triad.

Our post last week considered God in the spiritual tradition of St. Thorlak, which portrays Him against the backdrop of His purpose, which is LOVE.  God brought creation into existence with love, through love and for love… so, it ought to follow that God governs creation likewise: with love, through love and for love.  This is where we can find a solution among those who assert one aspect of God’s governance over another (that is, the fire-and-brimstone image on the one hand, and the none-are-ever-condemned image on the other).  LOVE is what motivates and binds justice, holiness and mercy into one cohesive truth.  1 John 4:18 shows how this works:  “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment.”  If God is wrathful, there is reason to be afraid – either fearing God’s punishment for what we have done, or fearing that we can never reach or maintain a level of goodness to stay in the safe zone out of God’s way.  Likewise, if God holds none of us to any standard of virtue, nothing in any other part of the catechism, or any religious teaching, makes sense.   Some will say that Jesus’ death erased sin and guarantees salvation for all, even to the point of eliminating the concept of hell or damnation.  That also fails to hold up under scrutiny and test, and it gives rise to a different kind of fear – that of everyone making up their own rules, justifying themselves without consequence, and gradually losing sight of the common good.

Perfect love casts out fear.  If God is the essence of love, there ought to be no fear or chaos in God’s governance.  The triad of justice and mercy bound by holiness is perfectly balanced, with neither fear of wrath nor moral chaos.  Loving justice defends those who are abused and restores what is taken by holding abusers accountable.  Loving mercy considers those who stand accused and invites them to choose the better way before the evil of their actions is locked in.  Both exist simultaneously.  Nobody loses.  Those who decline God’s invitation to holiness reap the fullness of justice… and, those who accept God’s invitation to holiness reap the fullness of mercy.

ACAT 17: A Concept of God

Lesson Two of the Baltimore Catechism outlines the characteristics of God which most of us have heard in one way or another.  Most of these qualities are beyond anything we can relate to in human terms:

  • Spiritual
  • Perfect
  • Infinite
  • Without beginning
  • Without end
  • Everywhere
  • All-seeing
  • All-knowing
  • All-powerful

Without anything like this in our concrete reality, it falls to our imaginations to construct our idea of God.  That presumes, however, that we have a well-functioning imagination.  Many of us do not, and even who do still find this far past the range of speculation.  It often seems that our concept of God comes out like the mythical gods of long ago: Giant, thunderous, demanding, frightful in abject perfection (with ourselves, by comparison, looking like wretched fools or worse). In other scenarios, God ends up like a forerunner of Santa Claus, a benevolent grandfather figure who sees everything we do, knowing all that we feel, think and say, and exists to dispense gifts to us based on our merit.  Imagining God can feel like living in a snow globe, existing solely for God’s amusement – or abandonment when He tires of watching us.  It gets to be such absurdity that we eventually dismiss the whole thing as either too big to imagine, or outright fiction.  Autistics particularly struggle with the contradiction of concrete realities which consist of abstract qualities.  Perhaps, then, we might start with the implications of God rather than trying to comprehend His descriptions.  St. Augustine took this approach in his teachings, and over the centuries, he would influence many others, including our own St. Thorlak.  How did he – a scholar, and also a likely autistic – present these heady realities of God to the medieval Catholics of Iceland, few of whom were literate, all of whom labored day and night to survive on fishing and farming in an unreliable and punishing climate?

Thorlak’s intellectual leaning was a peculiarity to his fellow Icelanders, including those at the Oddi, the center of Icelandic scholarship.  He found his niche 1,359 miles (2,187 km) abroad, studying theology at the renowned Abbey of St-Victor in Paris.  He never intended to subsist on academia, though.  Thorlak was eager to return to his homeland with the mission of bringing this marvelous knowledge of God to those unable to pursue theology.  And, in the way many fellow autistics have of drawing out profoundly simple yet powerful solutions to confounding complexities, Thorlak showed a way to see the unseeable God by using the backdrop of His purpose: LOVE.

In that manner, then, let us employ the Catechism’s list of attributes to understand not a demanding deity, not an indifferent toymaker in the sky, but One who embodies and defines the essence of love.

We, being human, have the limits of our minds and senses; thus, the first three attributes reflect the limits to how we can know God.  God is spiritual, perfect and infinite.  Spiritual suggests He exists within the interior and unseen realm, the experience itself of being.  One of the earliest translations of “spirit” is “breath.”  We can think of God as the breath that says “yes” to all that has existed, exists now, and will exist far beyond our participation.  Perfect means complete, whole, without flaw.  Infinite: God encompasses the totality of all that is.  Since creation is very much alive and unfolding, that totality is not finished, nor can we comprehend how far back it goes or how far ahead it will go on.

Without beginning, without endeverywhereall-seeing, all-knowing, all-powerful: These are, in one sense, embellishments on the notion of being infinite.  God’s essence and intentionality infuses and sustains all creation, which includes us and the world around us and the universe in which our world exists.   But more specifically, these reflect the intentionality of God.  He exists not just to exist, but to be, see, know and act.  Why?

What if the answer is love?  If God is love’s very essence, then creation is the expression of joy so ripe that it had to be given form.  The “love” that is God is that creative love underpinning the interests which propel our spirits.  God’s love is no mere greeting card sentiment.  God’s love is all-consuming, all-knowing, all-seeing and without end.  God’s love of the very notion of humanity and earth and universe, and all its intricacies, is indistinguishable from God Himself, and exceeds the capacity of God to remain statically fixed or detached.  It is such a burning drive that God, unable to be contained, brought it all into being to experience it.

Repeat: God did not simply imagine us.  The delight He took in imagining us was so consuming that He was moved to experience us.  Hence, God actively sees, knows and empowers what He has given form and substance.

Autistics know the difference between thinking about something and experiencing that intense rapture which drives us, draws us forward, consumes our minds and feels like the meaning of life itself.  Onlookers call this our “special interest.”  We go along with that terminology because it avoids degrading our joy into something pejorative, like “obsession,” but it grossly dismisses how greatly that joy affects us.  (To the point, who would ever gaze upon a loved one and whisper, “You are my special interest?”)

With “love” as God’s backdrop, we see that he is neither dictator nor spy in the sky.  God supplies all, designs all and sustains all because He is love which cannot be contained.

This may still be too much to comprehend or believe, especially when we look around and see everything that is NOT love.  Where did all the mess come from, and why does God not step in and clean it up for us?  We will continue this discussion as we explore more of the Catechism.  In the meantime, let us recall that list in answer to the question, “In what manner does God love us?”

Spiritually.  Perfectly.  Infinitely.  Without beginning or end.  Everywhere.  Seeing and knowing all, and loving us with all His power.