can catholics go to heaven?

I’ve just finished writing and teaching a series on Biblical Growth for the young people who went away to my church’s youth club camp this summer. It’s the second year I’ve done a series between the end of camp and the beginning of the church and academic year. I’m a big believer in answering the questions that young people have rather than just bombarding them with answers and information that I think they should have. As such, I typically have a Questions Box (HT to the wonderful SU CSSM at Castlerock & Benone for that idea!) for the duration of the series into which the young people can place any question they wish. I’ll attempt to give them The answer or my answer on the last night. I encourage all types of questions from “Did Adam have a belly button?” to “Where do dinosaurs fit in?” and they are typically as diverse as that.

There’s always repetition from year to year, that’s a given in youth ministry, but one question always makes its way into the box. This question, in particular, really annoys me: “Can [Roman] Catholics go to heaven?”

Now, don’t misunderstand me: I love the fact that the young people are open enough to ask the question and I am humbled that they are open enough with me to ask the question. But the fact that the question is even asked just gets under my skin.

Obviously in my context I can see why they’re asking: 30 years of The Troubles; the media making synonyms out of Protestant, Unionist and Loyalist, and Catholic, Nationalist and Republican; the, frankly, less than Christlike witness of some leading local religious figures. Together these three factors, amongst others, contribute to a warped sense of Christianity, grace, salvation and the good news.

From my reading of the Protestant canon I cannot help but come to the conclusion that, yes, Catholics can go to heaven. Now an American reading this would wonder what all the fuss was about, perhaps even to an Italian, but to some in the Northern Irish church I writing heresy and I should be removed as a ruling elder and excommunicated posthaste.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again… perhaps heresy is good once in a while… especially if it turns out to be true.

I am convinced that salvation is a work of God offered as a gift to mankind, by grace (cf. Eph 2:8,9; 5:3-14). It is God who does the saving because only He could do so, only He could redeem/pay the price. He does not wait until someone attends the “right” church fellowship, or believes the “right” doctrine (in the context of the Protestant and Roman Catholic churches). Far from it. It’s not in a man’s hands so that no man my boast when they receive the gift. Rather it is entirely God, which is precisely why we should be so thankful.

So, can Catholics go to heaven? Absolutely.

the dread I have of justice and holiness

Why did the Holocaust happen? Why did that kid die? Why do criminals seem to be unstoppable? Hard, age-old questions of which we demand an answer.

I’m studying Lamentations at the minute, which is an old testament book detailing the writer’s, Jeremiah, response to the fall of Jerusalem (c. 586 B.C.) at the hands of the Babylonians. Lamentations is an easy book to read, reasonably simple to understand but a hard book to take in. Everything that is talked about sounds so horrid, so wrong.

Recently, the thing about the writing that I have found most staggering is that God permits it all. God permits the slaughter of young and old (2:21). God permits the starvation of children (2:12). God permits the cannibalism (2:20). God permits all this to happen to his chosen people. Many will use this as reason to give up on God, they might say he’s not worthy to follow for that. Some might be disbelieving that a good God can be behind such bad things.

I’m no prophet, but I do wonder… September 11th, the Tsunami, Bali bombings, the Troubles… might these be divine justice acted out? After all, none of us are innocent (Romans 3:23) so none of us should have anything to complain about. (Easy to say, I know…)

Thinking again about Lamentations, the writer reminds us that Jerusalem’s fall was a result of its sin. Sin. A little word with a lot of meaning, most of which has been watered down by “modern”, “progressive”, “21st Century” ideas. I wonder if we had more of a comprehension of just how bad, immoral and grotesque sin really is (in God’s eyes) – what it really means – if it would affect how we react to suffering when (and not if) it comes?

God’s justice and holiness are scary things for me, which makes me all the more desperate and thankful of God’s grace. “It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the Living God.” (Hebrews 10:31)

heresy is good

Sparked by remembering the Roman Catholic church’s original response to the alleged heresy of Galileo (see the recent BBC news story) I’ve been wondering if all heresy is wrong. Heresy, according my dictionary, is defined as opinion that is at odds with accepted Christian doctrine. What if said accepted Christian doctrine isn’t quite up to scratch? Think again of the old geocentric idea of the universe.

Perhaps it’s melodramatic of me to say I’ve been wondering if all heresy is wrong; it might be better to say I’ve been wondering if things I’ve been taught are correct. I belong to a Presbyterian church because I agree in the ideals of its form of governance – a democratic theocracy, where God alone is head and everyone has an equal say in the minutia. However, in PCI (the Presbyterian Church in Ireland) there is some baggage – for example, the Westminster Confession of the Faith and the Code, amongst others. I’ve recently been wondering if everything in those books is still worthy of application in today’s world.

For example, the Code talks about all things in a church service being under the control of the minister (a.k.a. the teaching elder). Another example: the sacrament of Communion (a.k.a. the Lord’s Supper) can only be conducted by a minister. The WCF says that baptism can only be administered “by a minister of the Gospel, lawfully called thereunto” [Ch. XXVIII para. II].

My question is are those things still worthy of application… because I do not think they are biblical. They are codified rules of man put together to help ensure proper practice and safeguard against ignorance. But I contend that they were written at a particular time into a particular context, which is not necessarily applicable anymore. (The whole idea of codifying the divine seems wrong to me… God is bigger than any book… but that’s a thought for another day.)

Why does the church forbid (I think that’s the right word) a member – nay, an ordained elder – from conducting the Lord’s Supper as part of a home group meeting? I know the pat-answer, but I ask is that answer biblical. Are we not all called to be priests? Members of a holy nation?

Is there not a conflict of interest where ministers adhere and push a Code that safeguards their power and authority over things? It seems, to me, to be un-Presbyterian; it looks a little more like the episcopalian model of church governance.

Our church is currently in a vacancy so my opportunity to discuss this with a minister is limited, but when we get a new minister I think I’ll raise this and start pushing against the grain. Not quite a modern day Galileo, but it’s a start…

pure: a meditation for youth workers

My Desire

I desire to be used by God: to be used powerfully and to great effect.

I desire to be used by God: to help find many who are now lost.

I desire to be used by God: to love because I was first loved.

I desire to be used by God, but am I willing to pay the cost?

2 Timothy 2:20-21 (NLT):

In a wealthy home some utensils are made of gold and silver, and some are made of wood and clay. The expensive utensils are used for special occasions, and the cheap ones are for everyday use. If you keep yourself pure, you will be a special utensil for honorable use. Your life will be clean, and you will be ready for the Master to use you for every good work.

If God came over for dinner I’d most likely not be cooking… I’d hire some fancy chef. But I’d definitely be using the fancy dishes, the heavy cutlery, the clean glasses, because he is the King of kings and the Lord of lords… because he is worthy. The same is true in our day-to-day living: God will only use worthy utensils. Worthy utensils are men and women who are pure and clean.

It is up to me to keep myself pure and clean: v21, “if you keep yourself pure”. If I am not being used by God because of impurity, I have only myself to blame.

Orthodoxy compels orthopraxy. That is, correct belief compels correct action. “Everything in moderation” is not a biblical principle: there are correct actions and incorrect actions. We must heed what Paul says in v22:

Run from anything that stimulates youthful lusts. Instead, pursue righteous living, faithfulness, love, and peace. Enjoy the companionship of those who call on the Lord with pure hearts.

Now, few of us live in a monastery or a convent, so each of us must daily work out how to realise these commands in the mess of real life. It isn’t easy, it’s not blank-and-white, but it is essential if we want God to use us to save souls and nurture those young in the faith.

We youth workers have been given a high and holy calling. We are part of a long line of teachers of the Truth that goes back millennia. We must ensure that the line doesn’t end with us; we must see our role as teaching future teachers. And not just by cramming doctrine, principles and truth into their heads. We must also show them how to apply all this stuff. We must live it out before them.

There are always going to be some who don’t listen or are disruptive or scoff, but read on from v24:

A servant of the Lord must not quarrel but must be kind to everyone, be able to teach, and be patient with difficult people. Gently instruct those who oppose the truth. Perhaps God will change those people’s hearts, and they will learn the truth. Then they will come to their senses and escape from the devil’s trap. For they have been held captive by him to do whatever he wants.

That is our goal: that, through us, God would change the heart of every young person in our care so that they know the truth and believe it. But more than that… that they would be transformed in every area of their life.

Psalm 15 is a favourite of many, and it’s interesting that it talks so much about how life is lived.

Who may worship in your sanctuary, Lord?
Who may enter your presence on your holy hill?
Those who lead blameless lives and do what is right,
speaking the truth from sincere hearts.
Those who refuse to gossip
or harm their neighbors
or speak evil of their friends.
Those who despise flagrant sinners,
and honor the faithful followers of the Lord,
and keep their promises even when it hurts.
Those who lend money without charging interest,
and who cannot be bribed to lie about the innocent.
Such people will stand firm forever.

So, now I finish where I started… only this time I must answer the question…

My Desire

I desire to be used by God: to be used powerfully and to great effect.

I desire to be used by God: to help find many who are now lost.

I desire to be used by God: to love because I was first loved.

I desire to be used by God, but am I willing to pay the cost?

…?

where’s jesus?

I’ve been thinking today about the Jesus of the gospels and the church and how everything relates to the community I live in. I think something’s missing from the church, or maybe there’s too much getting in the way.

Reading Luke 8:40-48 and Matthew 9:18-22 has sparked all this off. Here was a woman who was suffering from “a hemorrhage for twelve years” [8:43 NLT], who was marginalised from people and the so-called religious (because she was deemed unclean), who had probably gone through more emotional and physical grief than I can imagine… and who was desperate to get to Jesus, to feel him… no, not even, just grace a touch of his robe.

She needed no invitation. The masses of people crowding round Jesus [c.f. 8:45] blocking him from view, even from reach, did not deter her. The judging glares, cold and stiff shoulders, and callous remarks from those she had to squeeze past to get to Jesus did not dampen her desperation, her utter desperation to get near to Jesus… to reach out and just touch him.

To me, that is such a powerful scene (and damning indictment of my own failing to show Jesus as he is through my own life). I believe that the marginalised in my community are desperate for Jesus, though they might cover it up with a stoicism and/or aversion typical of Northen Irish culture. I believe these precious, dear, created-in-the-image-of-God people long for compassion, friendship, welcome, healing and more… and they lament day and daily that they don’t have it.

How have we so badly savaged the body of Jesus – the church – that it is unrecognisable to those who are crying out for a glimpse of him? Or how have we dressed it up that it is unrecognisable to those who yearn to reach out and touch him and feel his warmth, but not the nice stuff we’ve wrapped around him?

size doesn’t matter

I’m not long home from my small group. It was excellent tonight! We were studying through Philemon and discussing the theme of inclusiveness in Christian community. We discussed at great length how we thought we did, as a Christian community, at including people and accepting them where they’re at. We then spent about twenty minutes in prayer, which felt so… so *real*… so in touch with the Spirit… at one point the group spontaneously broke into a prophetic song. It was awesome. It was humbling. It was obvious God was in our midst.

I love my small group. I miss it when we don’t meet over the summer break. (Why on earth do we need a break from such refreshing and energising things?!) I’ve been a member of a small group for many years now and I truly believe that they are essential for a healthy church. The intimacy, the accountability, the partnership, the advice, the encouragement, the fun and the genuine concern for health, well-being and spiritual state are all found in my small group. There is just no way that I can conceive of that this sort of pastoring/mentoring/discipleship/shepherding/all those things can be done adequately or even at all in a big church meeting – it’s too impersonal.

More people need to get into these small groups and experience all this. I’m on a mission!

protestant nationalism

I don’t often post about the Orange Order because it is a topic I get very angry about very quickly. However, reading a recent BBC news article has really annoyed me. It highlights a major issue with the Orange Order’s raison d’être. Reverend Stephen Dickinson is quoted in the article as saying, “This [referring to Orange Order demonstrations/marching] is about Protestantism, this is about Britishness.”

Why, oh why, do they so link Protestantism with Britishness?! One is not related to the other in any way. Furthermore it is very dangerous for the church to be (apparently) of a certain political persuasion. This idea is regrettably perpetuated in the media, which refer to Protestants generally as the unionist/loyalist community and Roman Catholics generally as the nationalist/republican community.

What a load of crap! I am a Protestant, yes, but I am not so ignorant or simple-minded as to have my politcal views entrenched in this archaic tribalism. Does the Orange Order believe Protestant Nationalism to be an oxymoron or (dare I suggest it?) even heresy?!

the responsibility of government

Today on BBC Radio Ulster‘s Stephen Nolan Show, Iris Robinson, a local politician, said that she believed government has a “responsibility to uphold God’s law” [listen here]. I believe she was referring to the so-called Moral Law laid down in the Ten Commandments. Her remarks were, in my opinion, ill-considered especially given they were made during a debate on abortion. I mean, the essence of the debate on abortion will be forgotten about quickly now; instead, people will focus on this sound bite… just like I’m doing now.

I didn’t listen to the Nolan show but I did hear much comment on it on the way home in the car on BBC Radio Ulster’s Evening Extra programme. The show welcomes responses from listeners through the media of text messages and, to a lesser extent, email. I was disappointed because the reaction of the apparent majority of responses was as I expected: typical, traditional, conservative and very Northern Irish. Most listeners who responded seemed to be in support of Mrs Robinson’s view. (Some were supportive of her stance on abortion, which is a separate matter; these listeners obviously didn’t catch onto the subject of the debate, which was on her remarks about her views on government responsibility.)

I find it difficult to believe that people who cannot think through things like this are governing our country. Obviously I disagree with Mrs Robinson’s remarks on governmental responsibility.

Think about it: if it was the responsibility of government to uphold God’s law then surely we should all be in prison because no one follow’s God’s law perfectly! The Bible, in which God’s law is quoted, tells us this! I am a Christian and have faith in the same God as Mrs Robinson but I cannot share this view. Jesus never forced anyone to listen to Him or obey Him, and neither should His followers. Submission to God’s law is up to the individual and should not be impressed by the church, the state or anyone else. I believe that there is plenty of good within God’s law, but just because it’s God’s law shouldn’t mean it’s civil law. The responsibility of government is to ensure order within the state, and equality, security and opportunity for all people within that state.

Remarks like Mrs Robinson’s only help to build up walls and cause friction. I pray that she will come to her senses over this and that those who supported her stance on this will realise the mistake.

rethinking my theology

Over the past few months I have been reading a number of interesting books on postmodernism and prayer, all of which are well-intentioned efforts at helping Christians develop a more meaningful and a more intimate relationship with God. In the past I have been warned against reading too much into postmodernism (and the movement called the “emerging church”) due to its alleged flimsy basis and its verging onto pluralism. However, I have found my reading very helpful and have found myself questioning things I have previously taken for granted or rethinking ideas I had assumed to be true.

A simple example… the Bible clearly points out that God is omnipotent – that is, all-powerful. He can do anything he wants, whenever he wants. It’s one of the three O’s that I was taught about God; the others being omnipresence (everywhere, all at once) and omniscience (all-knowing).

So, God is omnipotent. Yes. But does God exercise his omnipotence on earth? Well, yes… I believe miracles happen. However, I am swiftly coming to the conclusion that God more often that not chooses not to exercise his omnipotence on earth. C S Lewis in “The Problem of Pain” says that, due to the delicate balance and fundamental laws of nature, instances of miracles – that is, God exercising his power – “should be extremely rare”.

Where am I going with this? Well, there is this modern idea of God being sovereign and omnipotent over his creation; the idea that he has his finger on every button and oversees and orchestrates every detail that happens in the world. While I agree that God is both sovereign and omnipotent over his creation, I no longer believe that he orchestrates and forces every single detail on earth.

And I think it’s a good thing he doesn’t.

If God was responsible for every human interaction and situation (and even a rugby game’s score line) then where is free will? Furthermore, given the apparent acceptance of the above view amongst a lot of people, isn’t it easy to see why so many people struggle with the problem of suffering and blame God for so much?

I do not think God is responsible for World War II nor do I think he is responsible for the scoreline in the last rugby game I played. Rather, I believe that God has created the world with certain rules (a.k.a. the Laws of Nature, and hence the idea that miracles are rare) and allows people to be governed by them and (is this the right word?) “suffer” from causality. This means the blame for the problems in the world should not be given to God. Instead, it rightly lands with us.

The above is only one example of a rethinking of my accepted theology. There are plenty more examples that I’m sure I’ll voice here. This shift in thinking has been (and still is!) disconcerting and lonely. So much so that I have even given consideration as to whether or not I should continue in some of my leadership roles in my church family! However, I do feel that the shift is towards a positive end – a more realistic expectation of God in my life and a more authentic relationship with him.

where will you go today?

Okay, I’ve completely exhausted my list of websites-I-visit-everyday and I need more. So, what splendid sites do you surf to on a regular basis?