After the 16th-century Council of Trent, all the readings and prayers for Mass had been collected in a single book called the Roman Missal.
Scripture is proclaimed on Sunday according to a schedule of passages called a lectionary. For Roman Catholics it is the Lectionary for Mass and for many other Western churches, the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL).
No, it’s really not.
No. It’s really not. Because it’s not just about us.
Grace is a gift of love that invites us into relationship with God.
Religious education has taught generations of Catholics that grace is a free gift of God’s favor. It is received through the sacraments and makes our salvation possible. Unfortunately, this popular conception of grace is sometimes misconstrued, presenting grace as a commodity rather than a reality experienced in our lives. From this view, “receiving grace” through the sacraments may be interpreted as getting more grace, as if sacraments were transactions imparting a quantifiable spiritual good.
The short answer: no one really knows.
In many Romance languages, the word for the Feast of the Resurrection is tied directly to Passover: Pâques (French), Pascua (Spanish), and Pascha (Latin) all come directly from Pesach, the Hebrew word for Passover.
Prayer doesn’t change God, it changes us.
The movie Shadowlands is the story of C. S. Lewis and his wife Joy. At one point in the film, after finding out Joy’s cancer has gone into remission, one of Lewis’ friends says to him, “I know how hard you have been praying, and now God is answering your prayer.” Lewis, brilliantly played by Anthony Hopkins, replies, “That’s not why I pray, Harry. I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I’m helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God. It changes me.”
Atonement explains how Jesus’ execution relates to human salvation.
“Jesus died for our sins.” As a teacher and churchgoer, I hear this expression quite often by people making a connection between salvation from sin and Christ’s crucifixion. In other words, “Jesus died so that I can go to heaven.” This connection between our salvation and the death of Jesus on the cross is often understood through the idea of atonement.
It’s not a trick question.
It sounds like a trick question akin to “Who’s buried in Grant’s tomb?” Of course Jesus’ birth is Christmas Day. But did the Incarnate Word arrive on December 25? I’d say there’s a 1-in-365 chance.
The task of creating a good life for all members of society is never perfectly realized.
Social life is a lot like being on a sports team. Individual players want to be as successful as possible, perhaps by scoring lots of points. The ultimate goal of each player, however, is the success of the team, a goal more than the sum of every player’s statistics. A team does not win because each player tries to score as many points as possible, but conditions do need to be optimal for each individual player to play well in order for a team to win. The good of both the individual and the team are interdependent.
How do Christians make sense of some of the Bible’s more graphic stories?
There are some Bible stories that don’t appear in the Lectionary. Like that of Yael, in the book of Judges, who drives a tent peg through an enemy general’s head, killing him instantly. Or that of Uzzah, who reaches out to steady the Tabernacle in 2 Samuel and, as a reward for his consideration, is instantly struck dead by God.
The Catholic Church has never declared that anybody is in hell.
The Catholic Church has historically treated suicide as an unforgivable sin. The reasoning, as articulated by St. Thomas Aquinas, was that suicide was not only a grave sin but one whose very nature deprived a person of the opportunity for repentance and, therefore, forgiveness.
This is, of course, no longer the case. The church now both buries and prays for suicide victims, entrusting them into God’s limitless mercy.