Book Review: "The Apostasy That Wasn't" by Rod Bennett

Rod Bennett's The Apostasy That Wasn't: The Extraordinary Story of the Unbreakable Early Church is sure to be one of the best-written histories you will ever encounter. Bennett is an astonishingly talented writer, and he successfully brings to life the most tumultuous period in Church history. If you understand the importance of the Council of Nicea, but remain fuzzy on the build-up, key players, and immediate aftermath, then this your guide.

The book's title actually does double-duty. In terms of apologetics it answers the popular (but erroneous) charge that Christianity was corrupted at the time of Constantine, and Christ's simple, straight-forward Gospel was shot through with elements of paganism and stood in need of reclamation (via the Reformation, Joseph Smith, Charles Taze Russell, etc.). In terms of Christian history, however, the book's title captures the way that Antony of Coma, Athanasius, Pope St. Julius I, Basil the Great, Gregory of Nazianzen, and others fought and overcame the most dangerous, far-reaching, successful heresy ever faced by the Church - Arianism.

Bennett zeroes in on the most important actors, with Athanasius as the book's main protagonist, and provides enough back story to bring the second and third centuries to life. Dramatized vignettes may seem out of place in a work of history, but Bennett uses them sparingly and in a way that breathes life into historical characters. A lesser writer couldn't pull it off, but Bennett hits the mark. His vivid prose draws you into the action, and you remain there when he transitions back to narrating the history. (On a personal note, after reading Bennett, I can finally keep my Eusebiuses straight.)

The Apostasy That Wasn't  is exceptional.

"Redemptive Suffering" in Christianity's Earliest Writings

Being sick this past week has given me additional time to re-read Ignatius of Antioch's seven epistles (c.110 A.D.).  They are easy to locate online (free of charge). I have really profited from Dr. Kenneth Howell's new translation and commentary, Ignatius of Antioch & Polycarp of Smyrna.  One of the elements I have found most intriguing in his analysis of Ignatius's epistles is the presence of what later theology terms redemptive suffering.  

By "redemptive suffering," I mean the belief that the sufferings God allows into our lives, when accepted and lived with trust in His love for us, participate in the sufferings of the Crucified; and the grace we receive to participate in Jesus' sufferings are of benefit not just to us, but the entire Body of Christ.  In the past I shared my conviction that this belief is found in the writings of St. Paul and witnessed to both in our Eucharistic belief and our Blessed Mother's earthly life.  

Dr. Howell helps us follow this thread from Paul through the Church's earliest days.  Chapter two of his book is devoted to Ignatius's theology of martyrdom.  I have read two other translations of Ignatius's epistles, but no one before Dr. Howell pointed out the literal translation of Ignatius's Greek term, antipsuchon - "substitute soul."  To put it in context, here is Ignatius's usage in his epistles to the Smyrneans and Polycarp, respectively:  "My spirit and my bonds are your substitute soul"; "I and my bonds that you love are your substitute soul in every way."  Listen to Dr. Howell's commentary here, "[Ignaitus's] sharing in the passion of Christ serves to advance the spiritual welfare of those to whom he writes since he is their 'substitute soul' (antipuschon).  Since in his mind Ignatius's martyrdom began while still in chains, he is conscious that it is for more than his own salvation" (p.13-14).

I should also note how Ignatius witnessed to a "give-and-take" within the Communion of Saints, with all grace flowing from Christ Jesus, "Now pray for me as I need the love [emanating] from you in the mercy of God to make me worthy of the lot which I am set to obtain.  Pray that I may not be found unapproved."  And this truth extends beyond earth into the life of heaven, "My spirit makes you pure not only now but also when I attain to God" (Epistle to Polycarp).  

St. Ignatius of Antioch, participant in the sufferings of Christ on behalf of the Church (Col.1:24), pray for us!

A Palm Sunday Parallel

It is a snowy Palm Sunday, and I just finished re-reading the Martyrdom of Polycarp (written c.155 A.D.).  After the Acts of the Apostles' recounting of the martyrdom of Stephen, MoP is the earliest Christian writing focused on the martyrdom of an individual.  Polycarp was an amazing figure by all accounts - instructed and ordained bishop of Smyrna by the Apostle John, he spent over half his life in ordained service to the Church; and he finished strong.  

When told that his life would be spared if he but swear by Caesar and curse Christ, he responded, "Eighty and six years have I served Him, and He never did me any injury: how then can I blaspheme my King and my Saviour?  ... You threaten me with fire which burns for an hour, and after a little is extinguished, but you are ignorant of the fire of the coming judgment and of eternal punishment, reserved for the ungodly. Why do you hesitate? Bring forth what you will."

Polycarp's courage at that moment was a participation in Jesus' own when facing the Cross - and God did not want the Church or the world to miss that truth:  the magistrate who had Polycarp hunted and taken into custody bore the name Herod, and he had Polycarp led into the city on a donkey - like Jesus entering Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.

Shepherd in the Rearview Mirror

I have been reflecting upon the great people the Lord brought across my path early in life.  One of the most influential, to whom I return again and again in my mind, was Paul Masek.  He was an extraordinary mentor; if you read The God Who is Love, then you already know how he offered me encouragement and direction at critical junctures. 

I was reminded of Paul again at Mass this past Sunday, when the music leader performed a version of Psalm 23, "The Lord is my Shepherd." When I was starting high school things were pretty rough.  I had seriously committed my life to Jesus about a year before and was heading into high school with a reputation of being seriously over-religious.  (Translation: I read the Bible and was very excited to share what God was doing in my life.)  In 1987, even in a Catholic school, that put you on the outside of a lot of social groups. 

I had been introduced to Paul, a young, Catholic youth minister, about a month before freshman year; and we became fast friends.  When I shared my struggles at school with him he reminded me of the final line in Psalm 23, "Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever" (23:6), and then he broke it open for me:  "The psalm says that goodness 'follows' us all the days of our lives - but have to turn around to see it.  Often times, in the moment, we cannot recognize the good that God is bringing about.  It's only after time passes and we look back, that we're able to see it."

And he was right.  God was deepening my commitment to Him by letting me experience resistance.  He helped me to understand, from the start, that committing yourself to following Jesus - what so many people imagine as "playing it safe" - is the most radical, revolutionary thing a human being can do.  Looking back I wouldn't trade those early days for anything.  God walked with me and held me incredibly close throughout.  And in the end, high school turned out to be a good experience - both spiritually and socially; but those are stories for another time.  "We know that in everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose" (Rom.8:28).  That is true for every one of us, even those who leave this world as martyrs.

Paul Masek is a guy worth getting to know.  I highly recommend checking out his blog, book, and the amazing retreat team he heads up, R.E.A.P. (of which yours truly was blessed to be an original member a couple of decades back!).

Martyrs - Are They Really "All That"?

A friend recently shared her discomfort about the way we seem to elevate martyrs; she is much more inspired by the saints who lived long lives in service to Jesus and His Church.  I too am inspired by saints such as Mother Teresa who spent decade after decade serving Jesus in the slums of Calcutta, constantly fighting back the temptation to despair amidst all of that suffering.  Those "lifers" in God 's service teach us how to be martyrs "on the installment plan" - giving themselves away one piece at a time, day after day.  But admire them as I do, I still hold the saints who were killed because of their love and service to Jesus in special esteem.  Why is that?

I think it is for the same reason that I can't help but hold a young Marine who loses his life serving our country in Afghanistan in such esteem.  He is a hero, a patriot.  Did he accomplish all of the things that Thomas Jefferson did during his long life - drafting the Declaration of Independence and Bill of Rights, or serving as a president to our nation?  No, he did not perform the same number of acts that Jefferson did; rather, it was the quality of that young Marine's act - serving his country with literally everything he had in this world, that sets him apart.  We say, "He paid the ultimate price."  

I also think of Vicki Soto, the 27-year-old teacher who just weeks ago sacrificed her life for her students.  I am blessed to know so many teachers - good, holy men and women who sacrifice themselves for their students daily; I have an incredible amount of respect for them.  I look at them and I see Jesus at work.  They are inspirations, heroes.  And yet, when I think of Vicki Soto's sacrifice my heart screams, "HERO!"

What is it about the sacrifice of our physical lives that evokes this kind of response?

I think the largest part of it is that they have faced down Death.  What greater fear do we have than Death?  (True, Hell is worse than physical death; but [to our detriment] I don't think we give it much thought anymore.)  It calls forth a "make or break" kind of bravery that we simply do not face on a day-to-day basis, no matter how stressful our service to the Lord.  My worst fear is that if I were put to the test, if I was forced to choose between torture and death or allegiance to Jesus, that I would falter.  I pray every single day that, should that moment come, the Lord will give me the grace to persevere.

I think another reason we esteem those who lay down their lives is because we recognize that their ability to sacrifice themselves did not appear out of nowhere; there was a great deal of preparation.  The Marine who loses his life in defense of his country had already made the selfless choice to serve.  He was a man of generosity and discipline.  He subjected himself to weeks and months of grueling training to become an able protector of others.  Vicki Sotto's love for children did not begin on the day of her death; it had been nurtured for a long time.

And the saints who died as martyrs, even those martyred as teenagers, had already made a profound surrender to God.  No one dies as a martyr unless they have first died to themselves, to their egos, in a way few of us have even stopped to imagine.  It is not the length of their lives or number of accomplishments, but the quality of their love.  When put to the test, the ultimate test, they loved Jesus more than survival and freedom from pain.  And that speaks to me.  It speaks deeply.

I love the saints - all of them.  The ones I am personally closest to - the Blessed Mother, St. Joseph, and Therese of Lisieux - were martyrs "on the installment plan."  They gave themselves to Jesus through many small "deaths."  (And Mary and Joseph are unarguably the greatest of the saints.)  But those martyrs who shed their blood ... I cannot help but have a special awe and affinity for them.

Holy Innocents & Unholy Alliances

Today in the Octave (8 Days) of Christmas, we recall the Holy Innocents, the children two-years and younger who were murdered by King Herod in his effort to eliminate the newborn King (Mt. 2:16-18).  The Church honors these children as martyrs - those who lost their lives in this world because of Jesus.

This feast highlights the love and mercy of God - that He invites all to eternal life, with no regard for mental abilities or age! (This was prefigured in the circumcision of Israelites at eight days old, and is witnessed to today in Christianity's practice of baptizing infants.)  Every person is precious to God from the moment they come into existence, and He desires union with them.  That places a pleasurable burden on the shoulders of parents - raising our kids in the practice of the Faith, introducing them into a relationship with God.

Children, loving children as God loves them - that's where my mind is at on today's feast.  I think of the murder of those innocent children at Sandy Hook Elementary.

I of course think of abortion too.  I recently read this quote from Mother Teresa:

"America needs no words from me to see how your decision in Roe v. Wade has deformed a great nation. The so-called right to abortion has pitted mothers against their children and women against men. It has sown violence and discord at the heart of the most intimate human relationships. It has aggravated the derogation of the father's role in an increasingly fatherless society. It has portrayed the greatest of gifts -- a child -- as a competitor, an intrusion, and an inconvenience. It has nominally accorded mothers unfettered dominion over the independent lives of their physically dependent sons and daughters" 

Those words in bold, they remind me of Herod's motivation for wanting to kill Jesus.  Mother Teresa continued:

"And, in granting this unconscionable power, it has exposed many women to unjust and selfish demands from their husbands or other sexual partners. Human rights are not a privilege conferred by government. They are every human being's entitlement by virtue of his humanity. The right to life does not depend, and must not be declared to be contingent, on the pleasure of anyone else, not even a parent or a sovereign."   

The spirit of Herod seems to be flourishing in the United States.  Almost half of the Catholic voters in our nation cast their ballot this past November for a man whose party platform reads "[we] strongly and unequivocally supports Roe v. Wade and a woman’s right to make decisions regarding her pregnancy, including a safe and legal abortion, regardless of ability to pay."  That's right - abortions being paid for with our tax dollars.  The White House has an ongoing love affair with Planned Parenthood, the largest abortion provider in our nation.  It is responsible for the deaths of over 300,000 children every year!  Innocents are being slaughtered right under our noses, and the "People of God" ally themselves with them.

A deep, profound change of heart is what today's feast calls for, and toward that end I invite you to join yourselves to the intercessions made in the Liturgy of the Hours this morning.  They are incredibly powerful:

We rejoice in the glory of Jesus Christ, who conquered the enemy not by force of arms but with a white-robed army of children, and we cry out:

– The white-robed army of martyrs praise You.

The Holy Innocents gave witness not by words but by their life’s blood,
give us strength to be your witnesses before men, both by words and actions.

– The white-robed army of martyrs praise You.

They were not ready for battle but you made them fit to win the palm of victory,
now that we are prepared for victory, do not let us despair.

– The white-robed army of martyrs praise You.

You washed the robes of the Innocents in your blood;
cleanse us from all sin.

– The white-robed army of martyrs praise You.

You rewarded the child martyrs with the first share in your kingdom,
do not let us be cast out from the unending heavenly banquet.

– The white-robed army of martyrs praise You.

You knew persecution and exile as a child,
protect all children whose lives are in danger from famine, war and disasters.

– The white-robed army of martyrs praise You.