The purpose of writing openly about what I told you in the previous chapter, this living, burning Catholic Dogma in my soul and how it came to be there, is relatively straightforward and may surprise you. Despite the firestorm of polemical argumentation you were just subjected to, I do not present it for wearisome polemics or to prove a power-driven argument. That is the method by which the world clings. This method is like an ungraceful fencing duel, where both opponents make unimaginative, lunging touchés to draw blood. Nor am I attempting to win an intellectual contest. Arguing this way would only turn into that same useless, power-driven argument-making I mentioned previously; only now we must waste our time quoting sources.
My desire to obey allows me to run rough-shod over those mentioned above. Suppose anything I am writing can be determined authoritatively and objectively to be in disobedience to the Church. In that case, I will strike it out or burn it myself. It is that obedience that gives me the freedom and boldness to speak as I do and not any claim of official scholarly superiority that I do not have.
No, I write the story of how this Dogma of God’s Church came to be so alive in my soul because it is driven by love, love of God, and love of my fellow man, that is, a universal, objective, God-based love. Now, how can Dogma and universal love coexist? Are these two things not antithetical? Does not Dogma, by definition, exclude love to those outside the dogmatist’s belief system, just as an enemy outside a castle is to be confronted and killed to save the kingdom? Is not Dogma merely another word for intolerance, itself being simply another word for hate? This is true only in the darkened mind of modern man, who has trouble knowing the meaning of words anyway. These two things can be reconciled because God is, universally and objectively, both truth and love. It may seem paradoxical, but objective, dogmatic truth and universal love are compatible. I will discuss this paradox of love and Dogma in this chapter, for it is most important.
Perhaps this paradox drove St. Joan of Arc to kneel on the battlefield, holding the head of a mortally wounded English soldier, comforting him, praying, and even shedding tears for him.[1] The same paradox led the Lord to say that we should love our enemy while also telling us that he has come not to bring peace but a sword.[2] It might be the paradox that drove Jesus to clear the Temple of money changers by force, throwing down their tables and running them out with a whip while still loving those same sinners enough to die for them.[3] Did Christ love the men whom he drove away with force? Yes. Were these men following Christ’s and the Heavenly Father’s will? Apparently not. Did they feel “affirmed” in their own goodness while running for their lives? I am guessing no. Were they “enlightened”? You bet. Most importantly, were these men included in Christ’s plea on the Cross to the Father for forgiveness for those who did not know what they were doing?[4] Of course. The key to this paradox is the following: Jesus Christ is resurrected and lives as a Real Person with a genuine will of his own while having a real love for humanity. His saints, including his most Holy Mother, Mary, are alive and are real people who also have a love for humanity. The living Founder of the Catholic Church has a will for the world and each of us. Jesus Christ loves the world and us as individuals, even today in this lost fantasy world created by the modern "enlightened" and atheistic mind.
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