Communion of Saints

The Nicene Creed has been universally adopted as a concise statement of what we Christians have decided that we believe. Years later, at the Council of Trent, it was reduced in size and language, and the new statement is what we known as the Apostles’ Creed. In this version, however, was added a new concept: “We believe in the communion of saints.” I wonder how many times we proclaim these words without giving heed to what they really mean, or question whether or not we believe them. Do we take them literally, perhaps even picturing all the saints actually ingesting the body and blood with us? [My Florida friend Fr. Jim imagines a long table with us at this end, all the Christians over the centuries seated along the sides, and Jesus himself presiding at the far end—a powerful metaphor!]. Or are we convinced that, since we’re all in one family [it’s “Our Father,” not “My Father”], we automatically can converse with whomever we wish at any time? Or only at certain times and places? Or only in our imaginations—it’s just a convenient way to get over grief or loneliness? Or is it some weird theological construct by which we’re somehow loosely connected? One encyclopedia’s description is: The communion of saints is the spiritual solidarity which binds together the faithful on earth, the souls in purgatory, and the saints in heaven in the organic unity of the same mystical body under Christ its head. Now what on earth—or in heaven—does THAT mean to us?

Love God?

What does it mean to “love God”? When we apply “love” to humans, one accepted definition is that we desire his/her well-being over ours. That smacks of agape [unconditional], one of C.S. Lewis’s “Four Loves,” the others being eros [romance], phileo [friendship], and storge [affection]. But how can we wish things for God when He already is so immense and has created everything? Perhaps we need to rethink what loving God means. If He’s REALLY omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent, He can hardly need anything from us, although perhaps He’d like something–our esteem, our awe? Certainly our gratitude, if nothing else. I’ve heard teachings to that effect, but they don’t ring true for me. No, I believe that our learning to love God helps us, not him. It reassures us of his specific care for each of us. That He REALLY has our backs. How, I haven’t the faintest idea. But that He does, I have no doubt! How about you?