Friday, June 26, 2015

Bad for Dallas, Good for Tyler and Good for Fort Worth

Father Wolfe is leaving Mater Dei in Dallas and moving to Tyler.

I'm sorry to see him go. I remember the first time I sat under him for a Sunday Mass at the Carmelite Chapel.  "Who's this guy?" I thought.  He's a quirky speaker but an extremely gifted speaker.  His sermons are well thought out, well prepared, pertinent to the times and enthusiastically given.  What more can you ask?  At the time Father Joseph Terra was the pastor of Mater Dei and now they will be reunited in Tyler.

If it wasn't so far away...

I'm very happy to read that Fort Worth is getting a FSSP parish!  That's just about the best news I've read all year for the DFW Catholic Community.   There's room for many more FSSP parishes in our area.

The FSSP defines traditional Catholicism.  They are as orthodox as you can be but also fiercely loyal to the Bishops and the Pope.  They tolerate none of the critical comments you read on so-called "conservative" Catholic blogs.


Thursday, June 25, 2015

Tips for apologetics -- Say what the Church says, but nothing more

It's been said that a lot of heresies were founded in the process of refuting another heresy.  Someone may say that Jesus wasn't fully man, and in the process of rebutting that argument someone else says Jesus wasn't fully Divine.  Someone may say that Jesus didn't have a human will, and in rebuttal someone else will say He had only a human will, not a Divine will.  Someone will say that Mary wasn't the mother of God and someone else will say she's not only the mother of God (Jesus) but also God's (The Father's) wife.  And on it goes.

We get carried away with analogies and can get so attached to them that we start believing our analogy instead of what the analogy was supposed to point to.  That's bad, but it probably won't lead to heresy in everyday conversation.  However analogies can cause misunderstanding, hurt feelings and alienation.

As an example when discussing the male-only priesthood, sometimes people use analogies like "Jesus is the bridegroom of the Church so it's fitting that a priest be a man" or "There's something fatherly about the role of a priest so it's natural that man are priests" (I confess I've used those and similar arguments in the past).  I don't know that these are wrong, but they are probably easily misinterpreted.  You're saying that men and women are different, which is controversial enough today, but it's easy to misconstrue that to mean that men are better than women.  Now you have two arguments to deal with: a charge of male chauvinism and reserving the priesthood to men.  People often associate the male-only priesthood to discrimination so you haven't really helped yourself here.

Again, I don't know that these are wrong.  There's a similar argument that "Jesus was a man, so it's more fitting that the priest is a man when standing in persona Christi."  That's a little better in my opinion, but only just.  Then I heard a priest say that ordaining women would hurt our relationship with the Orthodox which is elitist nonsense and I won't comment further on it here (it angry's-up the blood as Grandpa Simpson would say).

The thing is, the Church doesn't make any argument similar to that. The Church's argument for reserving the priesthood to men alone is that Jesus chose men to be His apostles. In light of the tradition in Judaism and in the early Church it's clear that Jesus did that deliberately and the Church doesn't have the authority to change that practice.  Women are awesome, but they can't be priests because Jesus chose who He wanted and He chose men.  That's all the Church says.  For that matter most men aren't called to be priests either.

The thing is, someone may not like that argument either, but it's not your argument.  If someone says that's a crazy idea, you don't have to take it personally because you didn't think of it.  Apologetics is not about saying something (anything) to get people in the Church, it's about presenting the Truth.  What happens next is up to God.  If the person you're talking to doesn't accept the message, that's the way it is. But make sure that he's rejecting the Church's message, and not your clever analogy.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

An adult faith

Recently I came across this post at PrayTell, bemoaning the absence of young people at Mass.  On the same day I came across this article by Maureen Mullarky at First Things in which she favorably reported on the number of young people at a Sacra Liturgia conference in New York.  PrayTell is a liturgist's blog (I almost wrote "Liberal, bullying autocratic liturgist" but that would be redundant) so it's unlikely that they frequent Sacra Liturgia's conferences and listen to people expound on the benefits of Gregorian Chant.  These are clearly two very different worlds so what are we to make of this?

The first option is that the young people aren't going to the groovy, hip, all-inclusive liturgies that the PrayTell crowd would gravitate to, and instead they are flocking to more traditional worship. But it's unclear that you can draw a national picture from one experience in New York (that may be heretical: I'll have to check the Catechism).

The second option is that it's just random chance.  One anecdote cancels out another. One person shows up at a Catholic Mass and it's like the 4PM buffet at Golden Corral and another person shows up at a conference and it's hipster beards and tattoos.

A third option is confirmation bias. The PrayTell crowd doesn't like how things are going, or thinks that things are moving in the right direction but not fast enough.  So in their gloom they attend Mass and only notice the oldsters.  Maybe they see the kids around but there should be more!  The Sacra Liturgia crowd, on the other hand is hopeful and confident in the path they are on so even a few young'uns in the crowd is sufficient to confirm that the have the momentum.

In fact, I'm not sure that I've seen any statistics that demonstrate that young people are in fact drawn towards traditional worship and away from Marty Haugen.  For their sake, I hope they are at least drawn away from Marty Haugen.  Drawn away with draft horses if necessary.  From what I hear young people are not drawn to any kind of Mass, Haugenmass or otherwise.

But I'm a bit perplexed by the focus on youth.  I know the youth is the future and all that, but since when do we grade our churches by how well the kids like them?  Are we so inundated with advertising aimed at the youth demo that we can't think of any other metric by which to grade our parishes?  Maybe instead of "how many kids are here?" we should ask "how many rubrics were broken today?" or "how many positive references to the Catechism can I find in Father's homily?" or "Would someone know without reading the plaque that the artwork behind the altar is a Crucifix?"  It's an idea so crazy it just might work!

In my Bible, Jesus' Great Commission doesn't say "Go out to all the nations, attracting the youth and encouraging them to sit barefoot around the altar and call you by your first name."  Nor does the Book of Acts depict the disciples leading a youth movement.  Rather, it depicts adults acting like adults and coming to the faith and bringing their kids with them.  Just like parents today bring their kids to Mass, come to think of it.  I grew up in a Catholic school and I guarantee I wouldn't have gone if my parents said it was optional.  Folk group and all (and we had one).

Honestly, until adults start acting like adults, I don't know if anything will get the youth to show up in large numbers.  And the ones  that show up may not be engaged. It's called "adolescence".  Who knows what will happen to them later in life.  We can't judge the success of a parish by the number of youth hanging about because they aren't adults.  They are not making adult decisions to accept the faith and accept the life that's required when following Jesus.  They're just hanging out with their friends.  Then they graduate and their friends scatter to different colleges and that's that.  The parish was little more than a coffee house anyway, and there's comfy couches in the Student Union so it's all good.

So don't get too wrapped up in the youth culture.  We're in a Church that measures time in centuries.  We can plant the seeds and water them, but it's up to God to bring in the harvest.   The Church has to deal with adult issues in an adult manner because it takes an adult attitude to resist the adolescent culture we find ourselves in.

Thursday, June 18, 2015

I won't be reading Laudato Si right away

After yesterday's anti-environmentalist screed, you may think that I'm boycotting Francis' new encyclical in a fit of pique.  But that's not true.  I will try to read it at some point, but there are two reasons why I won't be downloading it right away.

The first is that I really just don't read encyclicals very often.  A friend bought me copies of Benedict XVI's encyclicals and I've never read them.  I love Benedict XVI and have read many of his books.  But I just have no interest in reading his encyclicals.  I've tried to read some of Pope St John Paul's encyclicals and soldiered all the way through Centessimus Annus but I have been unable to read even one other specimen of the great man's work.  And don't even get me started on the documents of Vatican II.  I like to call these works "busy books" because when I sit down to read them, I realize I need to get busy with household chores, like cleaning the gutters, scrubbing the floor and snaking the toilet; all of which are more interesting than reading papal documents.  I've never even started on Francis' first encyclical Lumen Fidei (mostly written by Benedict) and I've started to read Evangelii Gaudium three times, but never got past the 75% mark.   I just can't explain it. I think Benedict XVI is a fantastic writer and not only do I enjoy his books,  I very much enjoy reading the documents that he put out as head of the CDF.  But the encyclicals seem dull and formal and I generally feel undereducated while reading them.

The other reason is more serious though.  I don't think I should really be reading papal encyclicals.  Perhaps the principle of subsidiarity applies to the economic discussions in Francis' latest text, but honestly I'd like to see some subsidiarity in the dissemination of the text.  I am wholeheartedly in favor of Pope Francis (or any Pope) publishing whatever he thinks is necessary for the benefit of souls today.  And if he were to ask I'd gladly give him money to run the printing press.  However, I'd prefer to hear some of that from my bishop and pastor. 

I don't want to go Congregationalist on anyone, but I have a goofy idea that the hierarchical structure of Church means that my primary source of moral guidance should come from my pastor, who understands the needs of his parish because he sits in a confessional for 2 hours every Saturday listening to his parishioners detail what's wrong in their lives.  And I would think that there's a two-way dialog between my pastor and my bishop so the Bishop knows what's going on.  Not about the details of confession, but in general terms of what issues are causing the most pain in this geographic area at this specific time.  I basically expect the bishop to read the Pope's letter and, understanding the issues that affect his diocese, to work with his priests to convey the message that is most applicable in a way that their parishioners can put into use.  We don't need to hear too much about the dangers of coal mining in Dallas, for example.  We do need to hear about environmental and quality-of-life issues due to all the traffic down here. 

Very simply, if I can go straight to the Pope, what do I need a pastor and bishop for? The next time the bishop asks for money, I'll just send a check to Francis since he's doing all the heavy lifting.  (As an aside I should note the fact that news reports of the encyclical say Francis complains about too much air conditioning.  My parish is currently raising money to replace the air conditioners.  If they cancel that project there likely will be a drop in donations.)

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Am I an Enviromentalist?

In light of Francis' impending encyclical on the environment, I thought I'd propose this question: am I an environmentalist?  My wife and I don't drive especially fuel efficient cars, but we don't drive very much at all.  Combined we drive less than 50 miles per week and routinely fill up the cars once a month or so (sometimes less).  We planted trees and bushes to provide shade in the summer and reduce our cooling bills.  We keep the A/C set to 78 in the summer and the heat set to 68 in the winter.  We recycle and for years have had an energy plan that used mostly wind energy (but don't currently for unrelated reasons to this argument).  I've never calculated my carbon footprint, but I suspect it's pretty low.

But I hate environmentalists.  I can't think of a crowd more full of crap than the professional bed-wetters that make up the environmentalist movement.  I think Al Gore should be deported to the North Pole, where he can watch the melting ice pack in person.  I think Greenpeace with it's jetsetting CEO and historical site trashing activists should be banned to the South Pole where they can huddle with the penguins.

So, am I an environmentalist?  Am I a Green bean?  Would I be welcome at a meeting of the IPCC?  I am actually a pretty green guy, as far as that goes, but I don't buy the philosophy / morality / religion behind it.  I just want to save money.  But is it good enough to get me into the club?

While we're on the subject of religion, what about Catholics-in-name-only, who probably will be very happy with at least a few parts of what Francis publishes tomorrow.  They are mostly good on social justice, they help the poor, they defend the defenseless, they pick up the pieces when a disaster strikes in Haiti or The Philippines.  But they don't believe a word of Papal infallibility. They deride and belittle Bishops that uphold the Church's teachings on sexual morality.  They organize protests if the Church decides to only support pro-life charities.  Are they Catholic?  Is the social justice good enough without Should they be welcomed into the halls of power of Catholic universities, hospitals, and chancery offices.  Or even the Vatican?

Today a man can be a woman and a white woman can be a black woman (and presumably a white woman can be a black man).  But can you be a member in good standing of a group if you display raw contempt for the values that group holds?  Who decides or, in the Pope's words, who am I to judge?

So call me an environmentalist.  And when you see me driving to the bank to cash my checks call me a capitalists.  And when you see me do it in my Chevy SUV call me an American.  But above all call me a Catholic, because that's what I call myself.  I think environmentalists are a pestilence. And think my credit union's a bunch of crooks.  And I think GM is run by idiots.  But I love my Church. Even it the Pope in his new encyclical insults me and calls me a smarmy neo-patripassionist crabbypants because I use styrofoam cups (it's likely, he really should have taken the name Jerome given the daily stream of invective from his mouth).

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Much, much (much) more about The Issue

Dan McLaughlin's essay at The Federalist titled Can Gays and Christians Can Coexist in America.  Lots of good stuff.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

It's around 70 printed pages, and heavily (heavily) hyperlinked.  It's really impressive.

Monday, June 8, 2015

Archbishop Chaput on the road ahead

Archbishop Chaput, who really should be a Cardinal, has some useful remarks on how to revitalize the Church.

Notice what's missing: not a single direct reference to Vatican II in the Archbishop's remarks.  That's how you do it, friends.  (one of the commenters couldn't resist).

Saturday, June 6, 2015

Of Benedictines and Dominicans

I've been having a conversation with a friend over the so-called Benedict Option and the Dominican Option. The distinction is nicely summarized in this piece in First Things by Dr Pecknold of CUA.  I don't care much which path people chose or in asserting one is right and another is wrong. Dominicans and Benedictines are both flourishing religious orders so there's room for both.  Both orders have produced saints and sinners.  Both may have had their "time" but they coexist comfortably today as well.  Interestingly, Rusty Reno describes the experience of an actual Dominican towards the end of this talk. One of their interns is a Dominican novice and when he wears his robes around on the streets of New York, it is definitely counter cultural.

But I would make a comment, at the risk of stretching these metaphors to the breaking point.  Dominicans may indeed go out into the world to provide a counter-cultural witness.  They may indeed preach the Gospels in the way they speak and in the way they live. They may well challenge the worldly mindset and convict people of their sins and their need of God's mercy.  But they also go home at night to a supportive community that shares their beliefs, shares their prayers, and learns from each other's struggles.  I don't know that a lot of faithful Catholics can say that same today, and this probably leads to many people favoring the Benedict style.

The world is obviously an immoral place.   Think of simply going to work: watching the morning news, listening to the radio, seeing billboards on the road and listening to the chatter of your co-workers on the elevator. It's very likely that each and every one of those events will expose some new immorality and some fresh outrage against the moral order as found in the Catechism.  By the time you come home your family has been inundated with daytime talk shows, cable news shows, social media and -- rarely these day --  interactions with actual people all of which serve to normalize abnormal behavior and ideas.  Celebrities swap sexual partners regularly and in some cases swap sexual identity and the celebrity driven media trumpets that as a heroic triumph of will over nature.

And then you go to Mass.  The homily is a forgettable, anodyne, disorganized jumble of words that seem to boil down to be nice, if it actually means anything at all.  And the best that can be said about the hymns is that they are forgettable. If you get one stuck in your head, you know God's demanding penance for your sins.  

"But I'm going to fix that!" you say.  "I'm going to put on my white robe and pray and fast and be a witness to the world."  "I'm going to make my corner of the world a holy place!"  There's no doubt that the Dominican Option has a certain bravado associated with it.  It's more manly to roll up your sleeves and work in God's vineyard than to close the monastery gates and tend to your own garden.  But when you're by yourself, you'll eventually get worn down.  Whether in a month or a year or ten years eventually you'll have to stop.

In the beginning you can convince yourself that help is coming any day now.  You can feel the momentum on your side.  There's a new breed of priests coming down the pike that will help!  The old hippies are dying off!  But things take time.  In fact, some things have gotten better, but it's long past time to think that society will get better just because the current crop of bad people won't be in it any more.  They'll be replaced with new bad people.  Christianity conquered Rome and ended the bloodsport of the Coliseum, but it took hundreds of years.  How many generations hoped in vain for help just around the corner?

In that case, the Benedict Option is very compelling.  Lock the doors and throw away the key. Keep the lunatics outside so you can preserve your soul.  You can feed others all day long, but eventually you have to eat, too.

An essential part of Catholicism is that you can't be Catholic on your own.  You need some sort of community support.  Whether you live a cloistered life or an apostolic life, you have to have support.  It's probably a little known fact that our priests often feel alone, especially if there is only one priest in a parish.  He's got a bunch of disinterested parishioners to deal with on Sunday and angry parishioners to deal with throughout the week and who can he talk to in between?  He's busy at the parish, he doesn't have time to go down to the Holy Roller Bowling Alley and BBQ and hang out with his fellows.

And what about the faithful Catholic? Who can he talk to?  At best, there's a monthly meeting of the Knights of Columbus or Catholic Daughters of America.  At worst, he's stuck by himself with a hostile world outside his home and a indifferent family inside his home.

How can the parish foster this sense of community?  Father Bergman talked about this a bit in his talk at the Institute of Catholic Culture.  He talks about physically moving closer to the parish.  So that the parish would be the physical and spiritual center of people's lives. So that the neighborhood would be dominated by the parish and the parish life would be the neighborhood life.  It seems unworkable in a bit city like Dallas but it's such a compelling idea.  I don't know that all the "busyness" that goes on at the parish helps too much.  I'm doubtful that playing volleyball with my fellow Catholics helps me to face the next day's challenges to my faith.  I'm thinking more of a place of fellowship.  Just hanging out talking, drinking (we're not Baptists) and recharging for the next day.  Someplace you'd go frequently with a TV showing sports and people hanging out for an hour or two.  It doesn't have to be an organized activity, but if someone wants to give a talk about how he dealt with the gay lobby that day, I'm OK with that.  And the priests can come, too.  I don't know if they would feel recharged hanging out with a bunch of laypeople or if they do in fact need something like the Holy Roller Bowling Alley, with membership limited to clerics.  If so I'll pitch in to buy it.

Something like that would make the Dominican option more palatable.  But how do you get people to go?

Cardinal Kasper and the dangers of misunderstanding


EWTN broadcast the first part of Raymond Arroyo's interview with Cardinal Kasper last week.  It confirmed something that I'd suspected for some time and by the end of the interview I actually felt bad for Cardinal Kasper (a little, he still makes me nervous).  He's been a victim is something I don't even know the word for: miss-association, or miss-application but certainly a misunderstanding.

Cardinal Kasper has for decades proposed that Catholics who have been divorced and remarried without an annulment should be allowed to receive the sacraments.  He talks about criteria, but I've never actually heard what they are.  He talks about limited circumstances, but I don't know what they are.  I guess I could read his book.  Regardless, that's what he's known for. He was making the case twenty years ago and he's still making the case now.

So here comes the new Pope who's talking out loud about how he's going to shake things up: reform the Curia, re-vitalize the mission activity of the Church, and reclaim the fallen-away through mercy and evangelism.  He comes to Cardinal Kasper and says "Why don't you give a four hour talk on your ideas so we can discuss them in the upcoming synods?"  Then afterwards the Pope publicly praises Cardinal Kasper's talk.  What should he think of that?  What would you think in that situation? You'd think that the Pope favored your proposals.  You'd have no reason not to think that.  But what if the Pope simply wanted you to play devil's advocate: to articulate the secularist opinion in a clear way so the assembled bishops could better understand them.  What if the Pope never intended to implement Kasper's proposals, he just wanted to address them while upholding the current discipline?

The rhetorical practice of disputation, most commonly seen in Aquinas' Summa Theologia, requires that the speaker first address the objections before he refutes them.  And the speaker must understand the objections correctly. In today's pundit lingo, the speaker is not permitted to set up a "straw man" and knock it down.  Before a debate, both sides have to be able to state the other side's position in a way that the other side would agree with.

It's likely that Francis is doing that here: he's educating himself and the rest of the bishops on the opposition's argument so they can more effectively refute it.  But what about poor Cardinal Kasper?  He assumed that the Pope loved his ideas, but the Pope only loved the way he expressed them.  That's the miss-application part.  Kasper identified himself with his proposal, so when the Pope expressed his appreciation of Kasper, he assumed the Pope was in favor of his proposal.  He's got to feel a bit let down.  And given the number of people attacking his proposal, he may even feel a bit set-up.  That was pretty clear to me in the interview.  Now he's merely "raising a question", like he and the Pope were in cahoots from the beginning.  Like the plan all along was for him to raise this issue, right a book about it, go on a speaking tour, get verbally attacked from conservative Catholics simply for the sake of raising a question. But as Raymond Arroyo points out in the interview, that's not how the Cardinal was talking last year.

It would help if Francis would say what he's up to, but after two years watching him work, it's clear that's not going to happen.

Thursday, June 4, 2015

Tips for Apologetics: Using Scripture

My previous offering on this subject may have given the impression that I don't think that the magisterium or coucils are important. Or perhaps it gave the impression that I'm embarrassed about such things and wish to keep them in the shadows.  Far from it. I just think that appealing to some unknown authority is not helpful.  However, it's important to have these source available and at some point it's critical to bring them up.   The magisterium is the critical element of the Catholic Church. It is the embodiment of apostolic succession, so at some point it's critical to establish that the Pope and councils speak with authority.

That brings up an issue with interpreting scripture.  If you listen to Catholic Answers on the radio, you'll hear a lot of arguing about scripture. Catholic Answers is largely staffed with former Protestants and a significant part of their ministry involves debating Protestants.  Scripture is common ground between Catholics and Protestants so it seems logical to argue the Catholic position from scripture.

A typical exchange will go like this:
Caller: Why do you Catholics wear robes in Mass when 1 Philippines 25:13 says not to? Are you ignorant or what?
Apologist: Oh yeah? Well what about Romanians 13:45 where it says the only way to get to heaven is to wear robes when in the sanctuary? Can't you read?
Caller: Oh yeah? Well if you had a real Bible you'd see that Revolutions chapter 45 is entirely devoted to polyester robes being the tool of the devil and cotton robes are for fools and knaves.
Apologist: Bullcrap!  That passage is widely misinterpreted! In the original German it clearly refers to wearing robes in the swimming pool, which anyone would agree with!
 There are a couple of problems with this exchange.  First of all, it reinforces the common atheist objection that the Bible is riddled with errors and contradictions.  We're trying to establish that the Bible is inerrant, when properly understood, not that we should prefer one verse (which agrees with our position) over another (which doesn't).  That's what liberal Catholics do.

Another problem is that these arguments assume that the Bible is the last word on every issue.  Sola Scriptura is the Protestant position and while it's clever to use scripture to refute sola scriptura, it's essentially conceding the argument before you start.

Another problem is that such arguments eventually center around how one word or phrase is interpreted.  The example above is clearly made up, but an actual argument that I've hear many times goes like this:

Caller: Why do you say that Peter is the Pope and leader of the apostles and the Pope retains that charism?
Apologist: Because in Matthew 16 Jesus says to Simon "You are rock (Peter) and on this rock I will build My Church."
Caller: But the Greek work there is petros, and petros means "pebble". Clearly Jesus was dismissing Peter. He was saying "You are nothing, but on THIS rock I will build my Church" The rock he was referring to was the faith of His followers.
Apologist: That's not true. Scolars have established clearly that "petros" meant "rock" and Jesus only changes from "petra" to "petros" because of the gender. He could hardly call Peter (a man) a female rock.
Caller: If you had a real Bible you'd know better than to say such nonsense.
I don't like that chain of discussion because it seems so inaccessible.  Jesus did express pleasure that His message was available to simple people and hidden from the wise.  It's hard to think of an argument more wooly than arguing over whether a given Greek work means "rock" or "pebble" given the dialect and era of it's usage.  I'm not a linguist and sometimes have a hard time explaining what English words mean.  (That's a true statement: I once took on a volunteer duty of helping a Vietnamese nun understand written materials for a class she was taking and I needed to keep my dictionary handy to not only explain what some words meant but the connotations associated with it. Including words I frequently use but was baffled by when I had to translate them into simpler English words.)

However, if it's a interminable academic exercise to explain what a specific word in a specific foreign language meant at a specific time in history, it's relatively easy to demonstrate how people of the age dealt with it.  So, instead of arguing over rocks and pebbles, how about arguing about how the apostles and early Church dealt with Peter and his successors in Rome? That's a matter of historical fact which cannot be easily refuted.  That's also the Catholic position: we base our beliefs not only on scripture, but on the apostolic tradition.  So we care about what the Bible says, but we also care about how the early Church understood what the Bible said.  We don't base our faith on how a single word is translated, we base our faith on how the Bible in it's entirety has been lived throughout history.  The Bible is inerrant, when understood properly. And we know how to understand it properly because we know how it was historically understood by the people who lived with Jesus and the people who followed them.

 Getting back to the 1st (fictional) example.  Scriptural literalists, including atheists seeking to undermine the authority of scripture, can find lots of conflicting passages. But Catholics shouldn't be bothered by that because we have the interpretive key: the actions and words of the early Church fathers.  It's critical to realize that not only did they live the faith, but they passed it on.  We know how they explained it to their contemporaries.  We have detailed apologetic tracts from Justin Martyr and Irenaeus and the rest.  They had to put the faith into words that others could understand. So we can see how they interpreted and passed on the Bible. And that helps us understand how the various passages are to be interpreted today.