C
Contarini
Guest
I don’t think that’s a very helpful definition theologically. Christian theology has generally focused on will and intention as the significant factor in “works.” This of course is where you are going as well, but you start off with this straw-man definition.Edwin,
What I mean by works is physical activity or movement.
Take three examples that were commonly seen in the Early Church: praying, almsgiving and fasting.
These actions do not, in and of themselves, save anyone. No one thinks that they do. However, Scripture strongly indicates in a number of places that they contribute to one’s salvation. One of the clearest such passages is Acts 10:4. There an angel tells Cornelius that his prayers and alms have come up before God as a “memorial,” which has led to God sending the angel to tell Cornelius how he can hear a fuller presentation of the Gospel. Now of course these acts on Cornelius’s part were themselves a result of God’s “prevenient grace”–they were not just his unaided human acts. But they clearly contributed to Cornelius’s salvation.Would any of these three activities, laudable as they may be, save the person who is engaging in them? I would answer that they would not.
I think you need to unpack what you mean by charity/love here. Are you suggesting that our love for God (which is surely involved in prayer and fasting–almsgiving might be purely motivated by love of neighbor) is entirely disinterested? Isn’t the idea of a disinterested love of God on our part both incoherent and arrogant? (Yes, Jonathan Edwards and some of his disciples tried to develop such an idea, and in some form it arguably goes back to the Reformation, but I don’t think it works.) We pray, surely, because we want to have an intimate relationship with God. We want something for ourselves, and we do not want to be deprived of that relationship, which is the purpose for which we were made (to be in loving union with God). This collapses your clear-cut distinction between doing something so we will be saved and doing something out of love. Surely our love of God is the same thing as our desire to be saved, if we have a Biblical understanding of what salvation is (i.e., union with God and not just some kind of paradise).So why engage in them, then? I would answer that the motivation is – or, at least, ought to be – charity i.e. love.
And similarly this collapses your distinction between love and fear. If I love someone (but not yet perfectly–few if any of us love perfectly in this life), I fear hurting them or disrupting my relationship with them. I fear becoming the kind of person who will no longer be capable of having a harmonious relationship with them.
That’s hardly a “rule and regulation.” It’s an obvious consequence of the plain teaching of Scripture–see 1 Cor. 5:9-10 and Galatians 5:19 for starters. Paul says in the clearest possible manner that there are certain sins that are incompatible with sharing in the kingdom of God. If anything had to be defended, it would be the view that some sins are venial sins. (I myself am not at all sure that 1 John 5:16-17 is talking about the mortal/venial distinction, even though that’s where the Catholic terminology comes from.) Probably the real question is what we mean by “sin.” Wesley spoke of sins “properly so called,” and I’m willing to use that terminology rather than “mortal sins.” But I think the terminology of “venial sin” is useful, because it reminds us that even these failings, which don’t cut off our relationship with God, still mark a falling short of the standard of perfect love, and still stem from our sinful nature (or what Catholics call “concupiscence”).The most obvious one to me is the one you mentioned in your post – the Catholic belief in the idea that some sins are mortal sins.