Thousands of books and websites recommend just as many formulas to help you use the various means of devotion. These devotional formulas can be helpful. But they can also be harmful.

Some are a specific prayer procedure like ACTS (Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, Supplication). Others propose a particular form of fasting such as the Daniel fast (eating only fruits and vegetables for a certain amount of time). Rather than encouraging a relationship, these formulas often turn into checklists of dos and don’ts. This tears from the means of devotion their intimacy, for passion rarely accompanies obligation.

Even so, devotional formulas are worth studying. Like learning dance patterns, they reveal possibilities you might never have realized on your own. Yet also like dance patterns, devotional formulas must be discerned for what they are—isolated, artificial choreographies that only teach theory.

Following theory will never take you to the depths of intimacy, nor the center of the dance floor. That space belongs to those who are moving not to formulas they’ve memorized, but something far more powerful they feel. Devotion is like dancing; you don’t count steps, you feel a rhythm. And just as the same music in a room full of people moves each dancer differently, sacred intimacy inspires each of us to personal expressions that transcend choreography.

Explore devotional formulas. Just don’t let them dictate your dance. Take from them and adapt whatever helps you move more gracefully to the rhythm of your relationship with God.

A self-serving motive can lay behind the attempt to recast Jesus as a love-gushing peace activist. In this role, Jesus stands in front of the thundering tank without any means to stop it. He holds a flower and he prays a prayer. This Jesus appeals to our better judgment and to our humanity to rethink what we’re about to do. But ultimately, he’s powerless. If we want to run him over, we can. This is a Jesus we’re comfortable with—a Jesus we can control.

But for precisely the opposite reason was Christ nailed to a cross. The authorities that knew him conspired to arrange his execution because he was an uncontrollable revolutionary. He denounced the leading pastors of the day as a brood of vipers and white-washed tombs. He assaulted businessmen in their place of business, and by violence imposed upon everyone his own opinion about how God should be worshiped at the temple. He was a man who lived on the streets and kept company with the homeless and hookers, whom those from civilized society called an over-eating pig and a drunk; and who responded to all this by teaching,

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace on earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. I came to set a son against his father, a daughter against her mother, and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law. A man’s enemies will be the members of his household. He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; he who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and he who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. He who has found his life will lose it, and he who has lost his life for my sake will find it.” (Matthew 10.34-39)

This man? This is your peace activist who strums a guitar in the park and bawls from his bosom, “Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya!”?

Nonsense.

Jesus Christ is the most divisive figure in human history, and this after only his first appearance on Earth when he came as a lamb. If you have difficulty accepting the rage Christ exhibited in his first visit to Earth, you had better find somewhere else to stay the next time he drops in.

Behold! Coming from heaven, a white horse! The one sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, on his head are many crowns, and he has a name written that no one knows but himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which he is called is The Word of God. The armies of heaven arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, follow him on white horses. From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh a name is written: King of kings and Lord of lords. (Rev 19.11-16)

One day our eyes shall see this sight. Our skin will sting from the heat of fire, and our nostrils choke on the stench of blood. As the Messiah’s horse stamps past our bowed heads, what will we think of him then? Let us try to think so of him now.

Photo by: wili_hybrid.

The simplest way that I can think of to express the Catholic argument is this:

The pope is infallible because he is the heir of the Apostle Peter’s infallibility.

Roman Catholic doctrine teaches that Christ assigned Peter supreme human authority over the Church, and placed a spiritual safeguard over him to ensure he successfully carried out this leadership assignment. When Peter died, his spiritually-guarded leadership role transferred to a successor, the bishop of Rome (the pope).

There are the four pieces to this argument:

Christ assigned Peter supreme authority over the Church.

This is the first Scripture verse most Catholics will turn to in this discussion:

“You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell will not overpower it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth will have been bound in heaven, and whatever you release on earth will have been released in heaven.” (Matt 16:18)

Catholics say that through a play on the sounds of the word rock (petra) and Peter’s name (petros), Christ promised to build his Church on Peter. Thus, Peter is the foundation of the Church, and as the foundation, Peter held an extra measure of authority among the apostles. Other passages that in one way or another suggest Peter’s supremacy include John 21:15-17; Luke 22.31-32; Matthew 10.2; Acts 1.15; and others.

God placed a spiritual safeguard over Peter to ensure he successfully carried out his leadership assignment.

Catholics argue it like this: Christ promised hell would not prevail over the Church. For that promise to be fulfilled, the Church must remain doctrinally pure. Peter is the foundation of the Church, so he must remain doctrinally pure. Therefore, God must have ensured by supernatural means that Peter remained doctrinally pure for the Church to remain doctrinally pure, too.

Catholics may point to this verse as evidence that Christ prayed for Peter to remain steadfast in his faith, and what Jesus prays for happens:

“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. When you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” (Lk 22.31-32)

Peter’s supreme authority, along with the spiritual safeguard, transferred to a successor when he died.

The bishop of Rome (the pope) is the legitimate successor of that spiritually safeguarded authority.

Neither of these two last points are biblically defensible. Neither, however, does Scripture specifically deny their possibilities. It simply doesn’t say anything about them. So since Scripture is silent, Roman Catholics turn to the records of Church history to develop support for these final two points in their argument. They argue that Peter was the first bishop of Rome, and so accordingly, thereafter the bishop of Rome is to always be the foundational safeguarded human authority in the Church.

That−as best as I can tell−is why Roman Catholics believe the doctrine of papal infallibility. From my perspective, Christ does seem to assign Peter a preeminence of some kind, though I’m not sure what that meant to involve. But the argument that Peter was given spiritually-guarded infallibility doesn’t even bounce once for me. I haven’t found any Scripture taken in context that supports the idea. It appears to ultimately derive from a logical argument — the same sort of which was used hundreds of years ago to defend a geocentric solar system. As for the succession of Peter’s authority, I don’t even hear a whisper of it in the Bible. Besides, Peter surely held other posts in his ministry before he settled in Rome. Why shouldn’t the successors of those ministries claim Peter’s authority, too? I am open to all four pieces of the Roman Catholic reasoning for papal preeminence and infallibility being true. But to date I have not seen good evidence.

§ § §

The doctrine, itself, can be confusing. So since I was already researching it, this is what the doctrine does and does not mean:

The doctrine of papal infallibility does not teach that a pope is infallible on all matters at every moment. Three conditions must be in place before any papal declaration can be considered infallible:

First, the pope must be specifically intending to declare an infallible statement.

This is called speaking ex cathedra. This term is Latin and means “from the chair.” It refers to the Catholic belief that the pope sits as the highest overseer—the senior pastor—to all Christians in the world. Only when the pope is consciously exercising this authority can a declaration begin to be considered infallible.

Second, the issue the pope is speaking on must regard faith or morals.

Whatever the pope’s opinions are on scientific matters, for instance, remain an issue of personal judgment. Likewise, when the pope looks out the window and says, “What a dreary day!” that doesn’t make it a dreary day for all Christians everywhere.

Third, the pope must be giving information or instruction he intends all Christians everywhere to believe or obey.

The declaration, then, must be relevant to the entire Church; the pope may tell a certain bishop to do something without intending every Christian in the world to do the same thing.

The doctrine of papal infallibility does not teach that the pope is sinless. In his personal life he’s a human fumbling around like the rest of us in desperate need of God’s help to live a holy life. But when he as the universal overseer of the Church speaks or writes something he intends all Christians everywhere to believe or obey, the Holy Spirit preserves him from making any error in judgment or statement.

Other useful information:

The infallibility of the pope was formally defined as an infallible doctrine in 1870 by the First Vatican Council. The belief as a tradition, however, goes back several hundred years earlier. Notice here that a council can also speak infallibly in Roman Catholicism. Any definition by an ecumenical council that is approved by the Pope, concerns faith or morals, and is intended for the whole Church to believe or obey is, in the Roman Catholic’s opinion, infallible.

Because the definition of infallibility is so late in Roman Catholic history, there is no consensus on how often the popes have spoken infallibly. Modern day infallible declarations by both popes and councils, however, are documented carefully. The most recent occurrence was in 1950 when Pope Pius XII declared that the Virgin Mary was transported to Heaven with her body and soul united.

The doctrine of papal infallibility is defined dogma in Roman Catholicism. This means that no one who doubts or denies the teaching can be Catholic. Any Catholic who does not affirm the teaching is a heretic.

More information on: papal infallibility; ecumenical council infallibility; Assumption of Mary; a Roman Catholic explanation and defense of the Doctrine of Infallibility. The picture is of Pope Gregory I by Carlo Saraceni (c. 1610). Note the dove (representing the Holy Spirit) landing on the pope as he writes.

This past week in 1692 the Salem witch trials began. What started as an attempt to stop the contorted fits of three young girls ended in 150 people accused of witchcraft. Fifteen women and five men were executed. Others died in jail, and even after the trials ended, those found innocent were kept in prison until their jail fees were paid.

Within a decade, the Salem Village community began realizing their mistakes. Some who had testified against their neighbors publicly apologized. Each new season brought new insight, and slowly the excommunications of convicted church members were reversed. Finally, twenty years after the trials, the government reversed the convictions and compensated the accused and their families.

The remorse shows something important about this community. The citizens of Salem were not on a pillaging hunt like bloody Herod ransacking Bethlehem for the baby Jesus. These were well-meaning people fumbling to find the best for their society. But though they were well-meaning, though they intended the best, still, the actions they chose were wrong. Their 317-year-old mistake echoes a message for our modern lives: Sometimes an entire community can be mistaken.

Driven by a certainty in skewed perceptions, well-meaning people can commit monstrous errors. And they will keep on committing those errors one after another until enough of the community’s members step out of the crowd and voice dissent. Those first few risk their popularity, social ranks, and sometimes even their lives. Yet they also chance saving their community from its darkest mistakes. With time, their collective voice can break the spell of popular choice.

But in a society led astray by its own beliefs, where would one find such persons with the sense and courage to speak? The answer is illustrated well in this painting:

The Witches by Walter McEwan (1892)

The original is about 6×10 feet in size. It’s big. The focal point of this scene is the ‘witch’ with the red cloak. Her mother begs her to confess her sins of witchcraft to the magistrates waiting at the door. Perhaps then they will be lenient. In front of those village leaders, another accused woman looks with scorn upon her younger social superior. Her posture shows a readiness to condemn the witch, herself. Then there’s the slump at the back of the cell—faceless, oblivious, useless. Too focused on her own despair. Though it is hard to tell in this poor image of the painting, the eyes of the red-caped woman are painted in such a way that they follow you everywhere in the room. Wherever you stand, she is looking at you. And in that detail is the answer. Surrounded by a community of misguided love, selfish apathy, blind zealotry, and baseless hate, this symbol of innocence and truth looks to the only person in the room that may still offer her help.

She looks to you.

Photo by dhammza. Salem witch trials.