Seized by Christ

They are experiencing Christianity as joy and hope, having thus become lovers of Christ.

Tag: Catholic Teaching

  • The Indelible Mark of Character

    Our lives always bear a seal—whether from Christ, from sin, or from the wounds we carry.

    Connected with the concept of “servant” is the image of the indelible character, which has become part of the Church’s faith. In the language of late antiquity, “character” meant the seal or stamp of possession by which a thing, an animal, or even a person was marked. Once given, it could not be erased. Property so marked was irrevocably identified as belonging to its master.

    Cardinal Ratzinger explains that this “character” is more than a symbol. It is a belonging that becomes part of a person’s very existence, calling after its owner. It is an image of relationship and reference—our lives are never neutral; they always show who we belong to.

    This truth has a sharp edge for our time. Many say they are “interested” in faith but claim they have no time to practice it. But our actions—and inactions—reveal who or what owns us. If God does not mark us, something else will.

    At the same time, life’s wounds leave marks of their own. A traumatic experience can burn itself into character. When a young person loses a parent or suffers abuse, the damage can feel irreversible, like a kind of spiritual PTSD. It alters how they act and even who they seem to become. Many forms of “abnormal” behavior are not just choices but scars that have hardened into character.

    That is why forgiveness matters so deeply. If vengeance or remorse are left unchecked, they can take possession of us until they define our whole being. To forgive and let go is not weakness—it is a way of guarding our character, preventing sin and bitterness from stamping us with their seal.

    Ultimately, the only true freedom is to belong to Christ, who marks us in baptism and calls us His own forever. In Him, even the scars of trauma can be transfigured, no longer chains but signs of grace.

    Ref: Cardinal Ratzinger; Pilgrim Fellowship of Faith p.162 last paragraph.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Beyond Bread Alone:

    The Forgotten Works of Mercy

    In the first blog, we saw how the corporal works of mercy have become part of the very fabric of Western society. Food banks, hospitals, charities, and even government programs echo Christ’s command to feed, clothe, and shelter those in need. That is a powerful legacy of Christianity.

    But mercy is not only about the body. It is also about the soul.

    The Church has always taught about the spiritual works of mercy:

    • Instruct the ignorant
    • Counsel the doubtful
    • Admonish the sinner
    • Bear wrongs patiently
    • Forgive offenses willingly
    • Comfort the afflicted
    • Pray for the living and the dead

    Unlike their corporal counterparts, these spiritual works are not easily institutionalized. A government cannot legislate forgiveness. A nonprofit cannot substitute for patient endurance. No program can replace prayer.

    And yet, it may be precisely these works that our world needs most today.

    In many places, hunger for truth is deeper than hunger for bread. Loneliness wounds more people than sickness. A culture of anger and resentment cries out for forgiveness and patience. In a world full of noise, people are starving for real counsel, comfort, and prayer.

    The danger is that Christians become content with mercy limited to the material. We may feed bodies but leave souls untouched. We may shelter people but never welcome them into communion with Christ. True mercy must be both corporal and spiritual — not either/or but both/and.

    Jesus Himself reminds us: “Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Mt 4:4). To give bread without the Word is to give half a meal.

    So here is the challenge: if society is already carrying forward the physical dimension of mercy (often thanks to its Christian roots), then perhaps the unique responsibility of Christians today is to restore the spiritual works of mercy to their rightful place.

    This is not about abandoning corporal works — far from it. It is about remembering that real love, Christian love, reaches deeper than the body. It touches the heart, the soul, the eternal destiny of the person in front of us.

    In the next blog, we will look at practical ways to integrate both: how Christians can care for bodies and souls, ensuring that mercy is whole and holy.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Have We Outsourced the Works of Mercy?

    In the Gospels, Jesus gave His followers the command to live out the corporal works of mercy: feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, visit the sick and the prisoner, and bury the dead. These simple, concrete acts of love are how Christians have always revealed Christ to the world.

    Over centuries, these works became so deeply woven into Western society that many people today hardly notice their Christian origin. Hospitals, food pantries, shelters, charities, and even government welfare programs all reflect the lasting influence of the Gospel. In many ways, the corporal works of mercy are part of the very fabric of our culture.

    That is good news. But it also raises an important question: have we outsourced mercy to institutions?

    Think about it. In modern society, there is almost always a program, charity, or government office ready to provide physical care. This is not bad — in fact, it is evidence of Christianity’s leavening effect on culture. Yet when mercy is reduced to only social services, something essential is lost.

    Christians are not called simply to hand off good works to others. We are called to bring Christ Himself into every act of mercy. Feeding the hungry is not complete without offering the Bread of Life. Giving shelter is not full without welcoming someone into genuine human community. Visiting the sick is not just about treatment but about hope and prayer.

    If we only address the body while leaving the soul untouched, mercy becomes incomplete. As one observer put it, some Catholic charities risk “feeding bellies while starving souls.”

    So, while society may continue the corporal works in their material form, Christians are still uniquely responsible for the deeper task: to ensure that mercy reaches both body and soul.

    This series will explore that balance — beginning with the works of mercy everyone knows, and moving toward the often-forgotten spiritual works of mercy. Together, they reveal a vision of Christian love that cannot be replaced by any program or policy.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Why Does Christianity Feel Like It’s All About Rules?

    Why Does Christianity Feel Like It’s All About Rules?

    Rediscovering the Love at Its Core

    If Christianity Starts with Love, Why Does It Feel Like It’s All About Rules?

    You’ve probably heard it—or maybe thought it yourself: “If God is love, then why does being Christian feel like following a bunch of rules?”

    It’s a fair question. The Gospel begins with love—God’s love for us, poured out through Christ. But somehow, what many people experience instead is a system of dos and don’ts, loaded with guilt and fear.

    Why the disconnect?

    Let’s explore a few reasons why Christianity often feels rule-heavy—and how we can recover its heart.

    1. Rules Are Love’s Scaffolding

    Just like parents set up boundaries for their toddlers—don’t touch the stove, don’t run into traffic—God, through the Church, gives us moral guidelines not to restrict us, but to protect us.

    Rules aren’t the enemy of love. They’re how love gets a foothold in real life.

    When rightly understood, commandments and Church teachings are like guardrails on a winding road. They exist to help us flourish—not to limit joy, but to preserve it.

    2. We Learn the Law Before We Know the Love

    Most people start their spiritual life with a focus on behavior. It’s natural to want a checklist—especially when you’re unsure what’s right or wrong. “Just tell me what to do so I don’t mess up.”

    But the Christian life isn’t just about doing—it’s about being in relationship.

    Over time, what once felt like a burden can become a bridge. When the heart begins to grasp God’s love, obedience shifts from fear to freedom.

    3. Fear and Guilt Can Eclipse the Gospel

    Let’s be honest—fear is powerful. Fear of messing up. Fear of hell. Fear of not being good enough.

    Rules can offer the illusion of control: “If I do X, I’m safe.”

    But when guilt dominates a person’s experience of religion, the beauty of grace gets buried. Christianity becomes a tightrope walk instead of a relationship of trust.

    Love doesn’t ignore sin—it heals it. But when communities focus only on what not to do, they risk losing sight of what we’re invited into: life in abundance.

    4. History Hardened Some Lines

    Throughout history, the Church has had to respond to real threats—heresies, persecution, cultural confusion. In times of crisis, the tendency is to emphasize clarity and boundaries.

    But those necessary guardrails can become rigid over time, even after the original threat is gone. What started as protection can slowly replace affection.

    This isn’t new. Even in the early Church, the apostles had to strike a balance between truth and freedom (see Acts 15). It’s an age-old tension—and one we still navigate today.

    5. Recovering the Primacy of Love

    Rules without love become dry. But love without truth becomes hollow.

    The good news? Christianity was never meant to be about jumping through hoops. At its core is this breathtaking claim: “We love because He first loved us” (1 John 4:19).

    Every commandment makes sense only when framed as an invitation—not a burden to carry, but a path to joy. When we obey God not to earn His love, but because we’ve already received it, everything changes.

    A Quick Historical Glimpse

    • Old Testament – The law was part of the covenant: “You are My people; this is how we live in union.”
    • Jesus’ Teaching – He summarized all commandments into two: love God and love your neighbor (Matthew 22:37–40).
    • Early Church – Faced with cultural diversity and false teaching, rules were used to preserve unity—but sometimes drifted into legalism.
    • Reformers & Vatican II – The Reformers emphasized grace over works; Vatican II’s Lumen Gentium echoed Paul: “The greatest of these is love” (1 Corinthians 13:13).

    Final Thought & Discussion Prompt

    “Can you think of a commandment that once felt burdensome—but when seen as an invitation into God’s love, became a source of freedom and joy?”

    Let’s talk about it. Share your experience in the comments.