Sometime around the year 350, St. Cyril was named Bishop of Jerusalem. St. Cyril served as Bishop of Jerusalem during tumultuous times, both political and theological. During his reign as bishop, he was banished from his see three times and was three times reinstated. In 381 he was one of the Fathers present at the First Council of Constantinople. St. Cyril died on March 18, 386, and his commemoration is celebrated on March 18^th in the liturgical calendar of the Church. St. Cyril’s existing works include his pre-baptismal catechesis, known as the Procatechesis, and twenty-three post-baptismal catechetical homilies. These are some of the earliest writings depicting the catechesis and ritual of the Sacrament of Baptism in the early Church. St. Cyril was named a Doctor of the Church by Pope Leo XIII in 1883. Having celebrated St. Cyril’s commemoration in March, and about to conclude the Easter season, it might be interesting to look at St. Cyril’s catechesis on Baptism. In the Procatechesis, St. Cyril addresses those catechumens who are participating in the Lenten catechumenate. The catechumens are undergoing preparation for their entry into the Church through the Sacrament of Baptism at Easter. In their preparation, the catechumens would have attended Church daily, receiving instruction in the faith and receiving minor exorcisms, not unlike our modern catechumens today who attend RCIA programs and receive minor exorcisms during the scrutinies on the third, fourth, and fifth Sundays of Lent. It is to the catechumens that have been advancing in their knowledge of the faith that St. Cyril is speaking, when, in the Procatechesis, he says, “Already there is an odor of blessedness upon you, O you who are soon to be enlightened; already you are gathering the noetic flowers, to weave heavenly crowns; already the fragrance of the Holy Spirit has breathed upon you; already you have gathered round the vestibule of the King’s Palace; may you be led in also by the King!”[1] The vestibule of the King’s Palace was the baptistry of the Church. For St. Cyril, Baptism is the gate through which we entered the King’s palace, or paradise. After the Fall and expulsion from the Garden of Eden, man was held captive by the devil in his original sin. With the crucifixion, death, and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, the hold of the devil over man was broken. In one of his post-baptismal homilies, St Cyril explains how this is evident in the ritual of Baptism. Within the ritual there is a clear expression of conversion, turning away from Satan, and turning toward Christ. According to St. Cyril, the ritual begins at the entrance to the baptistry with the individual being baptized facing west with his arms outstretched. The west is where the sun sets, and with the setting of the sun comes darkness. As such the west was symbolically tied to the devil. “Since the west is the region of sensible darkness, and he being darkness, has his dominion also in darkness, therefore, looking with a symbolic meaning towards the West, you renounce that dark and gloomy potentate.”[2] The arms are held out, representing that the individual is rejecting or pushing away the devil and his works. The individual to be baptized then vocally rejects Satan, all of his works, and all of his pomp. After the rejection of Satan, the person being baptized physically turns his body (conversion) and enters the baptistry facing the east. He has now turned his back to Satan and is moving toward Christ and the baptismal font. With his back to the west, he now faces east. Just as the west is tied to the setting of the sun and darkness, the east is the direction that the sun rises and represents light and the coming of Christ. “For as the lightening comes from the east and shines as far as the west, so will be the coming of the Son of Man” (Matt. 24:27). In facing east, the person being baptized also faces the direction in which lies paradise. “And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east; and there he put the man whom he had formed” (Gen. 2:8). Facing east, the person then puts off the garments they are wearing. The stripping of the garments has multiple meanings. First, it is a symbol of the person putting off the old man of sin. “For since the adverse Powers made their lair in your members, you may no longer wear that old garment.”[3] In putting of the garment there was a sense of putting off the sin, and having put off the sin, there was no longer any shame connected to the nakedness. “You were naked in the sight of all, and were not ashamed; for truly you bore the likeness of the first-formed Adam, who was naked in the garden, and was not ashamed.”[4] Another meaning to the stripping of the garments has to do with Baptism being a participation in the crucifixion and death of Jesus Christ. “Having stripped yourselves, you were naked; in this also imitating Christ, who was stripped naked on the Cross, and by His nakedness put off from Himself the principalities and powers, and openly triumphed over them on the tree (Col. 2:15).”[5] Another early Church Father, Theodore of Mopsuestia, adds that after turning east the person genuflects before stripping their old garments. After the garments are put off the person is then brought to the standing position, representing the lifting up of man from the Fall. After rejecting Satan and putting off the old garments, the baptizand is then anointed with exorcised oil. The exorcised oil also has multiple meanings. One meaning is that, being cut off from Satan, “the wild olive tree,” you are grafted onto Christ, “the good olive tree.” The other purpose that St. Cyril gives for the anointing of exorcised oil has to do with warding off the evil spirits tempting the person before Baptism. “For as the breathing of the saints, and the invocation of the Name of God, like fiercest flame, scorch and drive out evil spirits, so also this exorcised oil receives such virtue by the invocation of God and by prayer, as not only to burn and cleanse away the traces of sins, but also to chase away all the invisible powers of the evil one.”[6] Once the person was anointed with the exorcised oil, they were then led to the baptismal font and asked three questions. “And each of you were asked, whether he believed in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and you made that saving confession, and descended three times into the water, and ascended again; here also hinting by a symbol at the three days burial of Christ.”[7] Baptism is a participation in the death and resurrection of Christ for the one who is baptized. St. Paul says, “We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in the newness of life” (Rom. 6:4). Coming out of the waters, the newly baptized were once again clothed with a new white garment. Just as before Baptism he put off the garment of the old sinner, now the baptizand is clothed with a new white robe which represents the newness of life in Christ. “For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ” (Gal. 3:27). Having “put on Christ” the baptized individual can now properly call himself a Christian. There is one further anointing which occurs. At the Baptism of Christ, after He is baptized, the Holy Spirit comes upon Him. “And when Jesus was baptized, he went up immediately from the water, and behold the heavens were opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and alighting on him; and behold a voice from heaven, saying, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased’” (Matt. 3:16-17). This second anointing with holy oil represents the Holy Spirit coming upon the newly baptized. “For as the Bread of the Eucharist, after the invocation of the Holy Spirit, is mere bread no longer, but the Body of Christ, so also this holy ointment is no more simple ointment, nor common, after invocation, but it is Christ’s gift of grace, and, by the advent of the Holy Spirit, is made fit to impart His Divine Nature.”[8] Thus, receiving the anointing, we receive participation in the divine nature and through Christ truly become children of God.

There are key moments in our own lives, stages of development and achievements worth remembering and celebrating. We can think here of birthdays, wedding anniversaries, and so forth. Something like this is true of the Church’s life as well. We can think of the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Great Commission, and so on. But perhaps the most vital, the most defining, is an event we will soon celebrate: Pentecost. The first Pentecost is when the Church takes her first autonomous breath, as it were, when she takes her first steps in the world to continue the work of her divine Founder and Spouse.

What is so special about Pentecost? It is worth noting that it originated with the Jewish people. They would celebrate Pentecost (in Hebrew, Shavuot) in thanksgiving for the first fruits of the wheat harvest and, later, for the giving of the Mosaic Law at Mount Sinai. It was thus a time to celebrate God’s generosity both in the created order and in the order of salvation. The name “Pentecost” is of Greek origin and means “fiftieth.” In the context of the Jewish liturgical calendar, Pentecost was 50 days after Passover.

For Christians, Passover celebrates something even more profound. It is no longer reckoned according to Passover but according to Easter, the day on which the Lord our Pasch rose from the dead. And thus Passover for us is 50 days after Easter. It does not serve as the birthday of a nation, but rather as the birthday of the Church that calls out to all nations. The Holy Spirit comes upon Jesus’s followers, gathered together in one place, to empower them to preach the Gospel and administer the life-giving sacraments even to the ends of the earth. The invisible mission of the Holy Spirit, the graces and gifts He gives so as to enliven and encourage the Church, is sensibly signified by the tongues of fire that come to rest on each one present (see Acts 2).

In short, Pentecost is important for the Church, and consequently important for our lives as sons and daughters of the Church. At Pentecost we see the power of the Holy Spirit on full display. And that power does not cease in the Church but is on offer in every generation. Granted, the Apostles and first disciples had unique and irreplaceable roles to play in salvation history. Even still, the same Spirit lavishes His gifts upon us today. We think perhaps most readily of charismatic gifts such as prophecy and tongues. These are certainly “flashier,” one might say, even if they are not meant, contrary to popular opinion, for the sanctification of the recipient but for the edification of the Body of Christ. I would like instead to speak about what are traditionally called “the gifts of the Holy Spirit,” since these are more intimately bound up with Christian life and holiness. What are these gifts, and how can we acquire them? What role do they play in the Christian life?

We find the gifts of the Holy Spirit enumerated in Sacred Scripture. The primary place to go is Isaiah 11:1–3. The prophet is speaking of the Davidic Messiah-King upon whom the Spirit of God will rest. The gifts the Spirit imparts are Fear of the Lord, Fortitude, Piety, Counsel, Knowledge, Understanding, and Wisdom. My reflections will draw from a book I highly recommend by Archbishop Luis M. Martinez, The Sanctifier.

What are the gifts of the Holy Spirit? They are supernaturally infused habits or dispositions or instincts whereby we are apt to be moved directly by the Holy Spirit. At times they are compared to the sails of a ship. Sails exist to catch the wind so that the ship might arrive at its proper destination. Likewise, the gifts of the Spirit make the soul docile to the movement of the Holy Spirit as we journey to eternal life.

Fear of the Lord, to mention the first gift, means more than servile fear, the fear we have when we are afraid of just punishment. Fear of the Lord is born of reverence and love; it is like the filial fear a child has before the parent whom he hates to disappoint. “One who loves deeply,” Martinez writes, “has a fear that is above all other fears—fear of separation from the beloved. This is the gift of fear which is directed by the Holy Spirit.” This life is full of trials and difficulties. Without God’s help, these can be obstacles to holiness and eternal life. And thus God gives us the gift of Fortitude, which strengthens us in doing good and avoiding evil, especially when it is dangerous or difficult to do so. “It is a confidence, a security, that produces peace in our souls in the midst of dangers, in struggles, in all our tribulations.” As I mentioned before, we have a reverence and love for God because He is our loving Father. Piety, then, is the gift whereby the Holy Spirit moves us to revere God with filial affection, to worship and praise Him, and to act with limitless generosity to our brethren whom God likewise loves. “And when it is love, not duty, that inspires our actions, we pass all limits, we abandon all measures and generously pour out the love of our hearts. This is the gift of piety.”

The last four gifts pertain to the intellect. First, Counsel is the gift whereby God directs us in matters necessary for salvation. Human life, as I said before, and as we all know well, is full of trials and difficulties. Prudence, even supernatural prudence, would not be sufficient to guide our ship to port, given the complexity of human life. “But God, who never fails us in our needs, has given us a gift by which the Holy Spirit becomes our guide.” God Himself becomes our Helper and Counselor. Second, Knowledge is the gift whereby the Holy Spirit moves us to judge correctly about divine things and about how we ought to act. “It gives us an insight into the mysterious relationships between creatures, and particularly into the great, transcendental, relationship that creatures have with God.” With this gift of Knowledge, we lift ourselves from creatures to the Creator. Third, Understanding allows us a penetrating insight or gaze into the very heart of reality, especially of those things necessary for salvation. “By it the Holy Spirit moves us so that we can penetrate the depths of all supernatural truths and thus attain our eternal salvation.” Finally, Wisdom, which stems from charity and leads back to it, is the gift whereby the Holy Spirit moves us to taste the goodness of the Lord and to judge all other things accordingly. “The gift of wisdom gives to our souls this power to experience divine things, to taste them in the depths of our being and, by that pleasure and experience, to judge all things.” Wisdom is the greatest of the Spirit’s gifts; it directs all the others.

Perhaps you have celebrated Pentecost in the past without knowing about these wonderful gifts. The good news is that the Holy Spirit stands ready to lavish them upon all who ask in faith. This, then, is my advice to you all (and to myself): (1) Get to know these gifts more profoundly, and how the Holy Spirit can use them to sanctify your life. (2) Pray for these gifts daily. All those in a state of grace have them, but perhaps not all seek to receive them in greater abundance. (3) Teach your family members and friends about these invaluable gifts. Imagine a world in which men and women are profoundly open and docile to the movement of the Holy Spirit!

We are by nature social or political animals. We find our full flourishing as human beings not in isolation but in communion with other persons. And so Christ’s injunction not to be of the world (Jn. 17) does not necessitate being some place other than the world in which we live and act. In short, Jesus’s words relate not to our origins but to our affections or desires. Being “not of this world” means seeking first God’s kingdom and His justice, confident that if we do, He will give us our temporal necessities also (Mt. 6:33). It is with this fundamental mentality that Christians, animated by the word of Christ, engage in temporal political affairs.

The problems of the modern age in general, and those of our contemporary socio-political context more particularly, call for well-wrought solutions. But where do we seek these solutions? Not, surely, in the pseudo-logic of momentary fads or of reactionary movements. Instead, we look to the wisdom of the past, to the paths trod by our ancestors. We do this not because our forebearers were perfect, but because human beings of every age seek the truth in part by appealing to a great tradition, which G.K. Chesterton strikingly called “the democracy of the dead.” More than this, as Catholics we appeal to the theological tradition as well as to the philosophical, to faith alongside reason. Why? Because the Church has a message not only about the natural moral law and about how we ought to act together for the sake of the common good of the social order naturally understood, although she does; the Church also has a supernatural message that ought to take root in the hearts of every human being and in every human community. The latter message purifies, perfects, and elevates the former message.

This explains, at least in part, our rationale for hosting the upcoming Faith & Culture Conference, to be held May 12–13 at the Doubletree Hotel in downtown Tulsa. We intend it to be a conversation between great minds, both local and national, about perennial principles and questions. The goal is not merely heady or academic. These conversations have real potential to change the political landscape for the better. An informed, conscientious populace can only conduce to a wiser and more just nation. I would like to discuss a subject that will inevitably color and animate many of the discussions at the May conference: liberalism. The term “liberal” can mean different things in different contexts. In an American context, liberal can designate someone left leaning politically, and thus it may prove a scornful term for those who are “conservative.” On the other hand, liberal is used as a term of praise by more traditionally minded folk when describing a particular notion and method of education.  I am not using the term, therefore, to speak about liberal Democrats or about liberal arts education. I am using liberal here in a more general way to denote something that has been consistently rejected and condemned by the Church, nonetheless something that, to our detriment, permeates every aspect of our social or political life.

What is liberalism? Simply put, liberalism is the undue exaltation of freedom (libertas) above all other social or political goods. Liberalism makes human freedom the chief goal or end of political life. At root, it is based on a tendency, quintessentially modern, to make “will” (as opposed to intellect) the highest principle in human life. Human reason is a measured measure, by which I mean that it is the measure or rule of our actions, yes, but one that is measured or ruled by reality. It is only when we have conformed our minds to reality that we can reach out in love to the good. Or so it is when we properly order intellect and will. Liberalism, which exalts unfettered will and freedom, exists in the theological realm as well, and these two manifestations of liberalism are not unconnected, as Pope Leo XIII argues in his encyclical Libertas:

[F]ollowers of liberalism deny the existence of any divine authority to which obedience is due, and proclaim that every man is the law to himself; from which arises that ethical system which they style independent morality, and which, under the guise of liberty, exonerates man from any obedience to the commands of God, and substitutes a boundless license. The end of all this it is not difficult to foresee, especially when society is in question. For, when once man is firmly persuaded that he is subject to no one, it follows that the efficient cause of the unity of civil society is not to be sought in any principle external to man, or superior to him, but simply in the free will of individuals; that the authority in the State comes from the people only; and that, just as every man's individual reason is his only rule of life, so the collective reason of the community should be the supreme guide in the management of all public affairs.

If you can easily see our own societal moment even in these words from 1888, it is because liberalism, just as Leo XIII describes, is the air we breathe, the water in which we swim, the inescapable presupposition to every political action we take. Bound up with liberalism is an understanding of human rights based not on the goods and ends of human nature, especially those goods we call “common” because they are communicable to many without diminution, but based on a negative precept never to violate the desires of another citizen. Notice that the legitimacy or illegitimacy, the uprightness or perversity, of these desires is immaterial. In a world in which will reigns supreme, it matters not what I have chosen or why; it matters simply that I, a free subject, have chosen it.

First, individual human freedom should not be elevated above all other goods, since the private good is always ordered to the common good, and since law itself as a principle of order in society is an ordinate of reason precisely for the common good. Second, however, the vision of freedom I just described is not the Catholic vision, nor a traditional vision of any kind. For freedom is always founded and grounded in the truth, in an understanding of the wise and good order that God has made and willed for us to inhabit. Human freedom blooms in the soil of truth and responsibility toward our neighbor, to say nothing of our responsibility to Almighty God. It does not grow or bloom in the soil of indifference and self-centeredness. Sometimes these competing visions of freedom are called “freedom for excellence” and “freedom of indifference” respectively. The former gives rise, when appropriated by the members of a nation, to more peace, more justice, more social solidarity. The latter gives rise, as we see daily in our own nation and abroad, to more violence, more malice, more social discord.

Because all interpersonal interactions in the modern world are suspected of being fronts for manipulation and the will to power, the social contract is thought to protect us and to ensure that our “rights” (whether rights in truth or mere licenses to do whatever we want) remain unviolated. However, this need not be the solution, in part because the premise on which it is based is false. True enough, human relationships in this fallen world are subject to abuse and manipulation. Even still, a reorienting of our fundamental narrative, one in which will is paramount, would do much to alleviate the ills of the modern age. Human beings are not political because the social contract is the only way to ensure that we do not routinely plunder and pillage one another. We are political because we have powers of intellect and will that impel and compel us to enter into relationships of knowledge and love with other persons. We find real fulfillment in these communions, even if we are ultimately called for supernatural communion with the Triune God and with those likewise joined to Him in faith and charity.

If casting off the chains of liberalism seems impossible or even undesirable, it is, again, because liberalism so profoundly characterizes the modern project. Voluntarism, nominalism, subjectivism, relativism—these are so many interdependent poisons that weaken us and our society. Granted that liberalism is but one “topic” among many, it is sure to make an appearance at the Alcuin Institute’s Faith & Culture Conference. If you are interested in learning more about the relationship between Church and state, between Catholic culture and (American) political life, do join us on May 12–13! We would appreciate your help in understanding the principles involved and in crafting practical solutions for living as Catholic citizens in a rapidly changing world.