To Whom Shall We Go?

To Whom Shall We Go?

          One of the most important writings of St. John Paul II’s long reign as pope is the encyclical, Fides et Ratio, “Faith and Reason.”  In this masterpiece, the pope investigates the deep relationship between faith and reason, and shows that the two support and enlighten one another.  This, of course, only makes sense since our reason, our intellect, comes from God and its highest purpose is to know God.

          However, since the French Revolution, and its “goddess Reason,” there have been those who make the ridiculous case that faith is actually the enemy of reason.  Most prominent today are the so-called “new atheists.”  However, any thorough examination of the discourse shows that reason is clearly on the side of the Christian.  I have said many times that I don’t have nearly enough blind faith to be an atheist.

          However, as much as we love to show that our Faith is incredibly reasonable, and we base so many of our arguments in favor of the Faith on reason, we must be careful not to go so far as subjecting everything about the Faith to the judgment of our reason. 

What I mean is this: we can fall into the trap of saying that we will not accept the truths of the Faith until we scrutinize them and unless they pass the test of our personal judgment.  This, of course, is a heresy, and one that has led to great division - tens of thousands of Protestant denominations.  As Catholics, who know that the Church has received the fullness of the Truth, and the authority to teach that Truth, we must not set ourselves up as the final judges of Truth, regardless of the power that reason has to deepen our faith.  It must be remembered that although our Faith is not hostile to human reason, there are aspects of it that are above human reason.

The Gospel readings of the last few Sundays have brought this consideration to mind.  They have been the Bread of Life discourse in the sixth chapter of the Gospel according to St. John.  The past few weeks Jesus has been telling the crowds that He is the Bread of Life, and that whoever eats His Flesh and drinks His Blood will have eternal life.  This is not the place for it, but a study of the text shows without question that He is speaking very literally.  His Jewish disciples understood that as well, because in this week’s Gospel, we heard that many of them left Him forever, and He let them go.  He refused to back down from this teaching; it is essential to the Faith.

Imagine if you had been one of those hearing Jesus say these words for the first time.  You knew that, as a Jew, the consuming of blood at all was forbidden, and cannibalism would have been unthinkable.  Yet here is a man telling a massive crowd that unless they fed on his flesh and drank his blood, they would not have life.  Your first instinct would probably have been disgust and, like many of those who left probably felt, you might have wondered if this man was crazy. 

With hindsight, we can understand that Jesus was talking about the Eucharist, which truly is His Body and Blood, but which is not being fed to us as his disciples in John 6 would have imagined.  This doctrine is above human reason, even for those who believe and understand it (as much as a person can this side of Heaven), but it is not opposed to reason.  Of course, the people hearing Jesus say these words had no understanding of the Eucharist and certainly would never have been able to grasp it if He had laid out the whole thing to them at the time.

We can understand, as reasonable Jews, why they would have left Him, shaking their heads as they went.  Why, then, did the Apostles stay?  Did they understand better what Jesus was trying to say?  I doubt it.  But they did understand better who Jesus is.

They had heard His teachings, they had seen His miracles, they had been among the 5,000 that He had just fed with five loaves and two fish.  They had come to believe, as Peter said, that He had the words of everlasting life.  These particular words they did not understand yet, but they trusted the One who spoke them, so they stayed with Him, and their faith was rewarded when, the following year, at the Last Supper, the meaning of those words was made clear.

Many of the disciples had seen and heard the same things as the Twelve, though, and yet they went away.  What was lacking?  I wonder if, perhaps, it was love.  Jesus had said just prior that they were seeking Him not because they had seen signs, but because they had eaten of the loaves.  At the multiplication of the loaves and fish, their bellies were filled, but their hearts and minds were not.  Faith was not allowed to illuminate their reason.  They wanted more of what Jesus might give them, but not more of Him.  So when they did not think they wanted what He was offering anymore, they left.

The Apostles, on the other hand, (with the possible exception of Judas) had come to know and love Jesus.  Faith and reason told them that this was One sent from God, and God was to be trusted.  So, when understanding was lacking, Peter responds to Jesus’s question about their leaving: “To whom shall we go?”

They did not wait to understand everything before they would believe Jesus.  Yes, their reason worked with faith (and God’s grace) to convince them of who Jesus is, and perhaps most importantly, they had a deep personal relationship with Him.

This can be a tricky subject.  Many cult leaders have manipulated people into accepting and doing anything they say.  That is why it is so important that our Faith is not merely a blind faith, but one which continues to receive life from God Himself, with an authority received from Jesus and that has stood the test of time, so we do not run off after any charismatic preacher with his own ideas and agendas, but stay safe in the house of God, built on a rock, which will carry us surely through the travails of this life to the shores of eternity.

Sacrifice and Suffering

Sacrifice and Suffering

          One of my favorite quotes of all time is by St. Josemaria Escriva: “The world admires only spectacular sacrifice because it does not see the value of sacrifice that is hidden and silent.”

          This statement exposes one of the defining characteristics of our culture, and one that has been instrumental in its decline.

          It’s true, isn’t it?  We say that “sacrifice” is laudable, but when we do, we are almost always talking about “spectacular” sacrifices.  We honor (rightly so) those fallen heroes who have procured for us our freedoms and defended them over the years.  They made the “supreme sacrifice,” and of course they should be honored.

          We admire the sacrifices of athletes who put in countless hours perfecting their craft to bring home a championship.  People were duly impressed with Adrian Peterson’s work ethic rehabbing from a torn ACL and MCL, suffered in December, 2011, to come back and win the NFL’s MVP award in 2012.  If the sacrifice wasn’t spectacular, the fruits it bore were.

          It’s good that we honor and appreciate those sacrifices.  Of course, we tend most to appreciate the sacrifices of others from which we benefit.  But what about when we are called to sacrifice, in ways that will not be noticed or garner parades?  Then, we tend to take a much dimmer view.

          How about the sacrifice, for example, of a young person struggling to stay chaste while dealing with same-sex attraction?  That person should “be who they really are,” says our culture.  How about the mother who wants to work through her husband’s infidelities, for the sake of her children and her sacred wedding vows?  She’s choosing to be a “victim,” who should “honor herself” or “actualize her full potential.”

          How about teenagers who sacrifice so much in the eyes of their peers to be people of virtue?  We’ll give them birth control (without the knowledge or consent of their parents), but we will not support them in their quest for purity (at least not in our public schools).

          We could go on and on.  An unwillingness to honor hidden but heroic sacrifice has led to the exaltation of evils ranging from abortion, to broken homes, to same-sex “marriage,” promiscuity, and a lack of religious vocations.

          As Catholics, sacrifice should be in our blood.  At every Mass, we participate in the supreme Sacrifice, and are called to join our daily sacrifices to His for the salvation of the world.  And yet, we seem to understand the concept as poorly as everyone else.

          Beyond sacrifice, what about suffering?  This is something in which our culture sees no value whatsoever.  And yet, it is one of the most powerful weapons we have, and we will never get to Heaven without it.

          Don’t get me wrong, I don’t seek out suffering, and I avoid it when I reasonably can.  I’ll admit that.  But suffering is part of our human experience and only our understanding as Catholics can give true meaning to it.

          Pope St. John Paul II once received a priest who had suffered a broken arm while skiing.  The priest, knowing that the holy father was an avid skier, decided to ask the pope’s blessing over his injured arm.  The pope obliged, but admonished the priest: “Don’t waste your suffering.”

          When we are suffering, Jesus is drawing us to Himself at one of His most intimate moments, on the cross, as He gives His Life for the salvation of the world.  He asks us, in a supreme act of humility, to offer our sufferings, with His, that our pain might be exalted to heights we can not imagine. 

And yet, so often, we waste our suffering.  I know I often do.  I complain, in self-pity, instead of offering my pain to Jesus, on the cross, for the salvation of souls.

St. Paul says in Colossians 1:24: “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church…”  He recognizes that his suffering is a prayer, and that prayer has power.  Why?  Because Christ’s suffering was somehow insufficient in itself?  Of course not.  It’s because Our Lord, much like a mother who lets her young daughter help bake a cake, allows us to contribute something, not because He needs it, but because we do.  And yet, that something that we contribute, is something of value.  Just as every ingredient the young girl pours into the recipe really does go to making the cake, every suffering we offer with Christ really does go to building up the Kingdom.

It is so powerful, so beautiful, and yet our culture misses it.  Worse than that, it fights against it.  Right now in California, we are fighting against SB 128, a bill which would legalize assisted suicide in the state.  Now there are many things wrong with this bill.  It abandons our most vulnerable populations when what they need is support.  It lends itself to horrible abuses, and it sends a terrible message to our youth.

But spiritually, it is even worse.  It operates under the principle that suffering is the worst possible evil (a lie which has destroyed societies greater than our own).  Instead of tapping into powerful spiritual riches, it destroys them.  We should also remember how suffering of the body often leads to conversion and the salvation of souls.  (Not to mention the serious nature of the sin of suicide.)  I am quite confident that the suffering of my father’s cancer was instrumental in his salvation.  How grateful I am that his doctor could not have prescribed him a deadly medication!  The little suffering it might have spared him on earth might have caused an eternity of suffering.

Rebuilding our culture is a tall order.  And there is no doubt that we will have no real renewal in our country or in the Church until we again recognize the value of sacrifice that is hidden and silent, and of suffering.  All we can do is try to recognize that value ourselves, and share it with those within our sphere of influence: at home, at work, in our parishes.  That may add up to quite a few mustard seeds, and we know what Jesus can do with those.

Being a Child

Being a Child

This past Sunday’s Gospel is one of the more challenging to understand. It recounts Jesus’s encounter with a Canaanite woman who has come to him to ask for healing for her daughter. Jesus’s response is coarse to our modern ears. He tells her that He has been sent only to the lost sheep of Israel and that it is not right to give the food of the children to the dogs. The woman responds that even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from their masters’ tables, to which Jesus says, “Great is your faith,” and He grants her request.

Why does Jesus initially seem unwilling to heal this woman’s daughter? Why does He make reference to children and to dogs? I remember seeing a movie about Jesus many years ago in which this scene is portrayed as Jesus being taught a lesson by this woman. It apparently expands His compassion and refocuses His mission.

Well, that didn’t sit well with me, so when I got my hands on the Catena Aurea, this was the first passage I looked up. I was eager to see what the Fathers and Doctors of the Church had to say. Here is my interpretation of Sunday’s challenging Gospel, informed by what I found.

There are a few things to remember. First, the miracles of Jesus are signs that point to who He is. He is not a magician, or a traveling sideshow. He is God, come to redeem the world. Also, the Jews of the time divided people into the Children and the goyim (dogs) – the pagans. The woman understood that, so Jesus was not throwing an insult at her.

What is amazing is not that Jesus has a conversion experience, but that He invites this woman to become a child of God. Jesus, in this event, is eliciting faith from this woman. He is bringing salvation to her. Being a child, Jesus teaches us, is not about ethnicity, but about faith. When she approached Jesus, the woman had probably heard of this wonder-worker and hoped he could help her, like some traveling magician. But Jesus will have none of that. He challenges her to identify not with the dogs, but with the children. Her desperation over the condition of her daughter opens the woman to faith, with a little prodding from the Lord. Once she has faith, the healing of her daughter can take on its full meaning.

What, then, can we learn? Jesus is the great Healer, but He offers us much more than simply the answer to a problem. He invites us to be children; He calls us to faith; and through that Faith we are freed from bondage, as was the daughter of the woman in Sunday’s Gospel. May we have the humility and openness of the Canaanite woman, and like her, truly become children of God.

The Baptism of the Lord

The Baptism of the Lord

 

Image from uploads0.wikipaintings.org

This Sunday was the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, and liturgically ended the Christmas season.  There is much to be contemplated upon during this feast.  The first is, in looking at the baptism of Jesus, what does it reveal about our own baptism?  The second is the question, Why was Jesus baptized at all?

When we examine the baptism of the Lord, as presented in Matthew Ch. 3, verses 13-17, which we heard at Mass yesterday, we see some telling similarities to our own baptism.  The most obvious, of course, is that it is a water baptism.  When Jesus is baptized, the Spirit comes down in the form of a dove, and the Father’s Voice is heard to say, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”  (This is also a beautiful early hint at God’s revelation of the Trinity.)

When we are baptized, we receive the Holy Spirit; we become, in fact, temples of the Holy Spirit.  He lives in our souls and brings with Him the gifts that will be strengthened at our Confirmation.  We also become children of God, with souls perfectly pure, containing no stain of original or actual sin.  God at that time could say of us, “This is my beloved son (or daughter), in whom I am well pleased.”

A question that my students sometimes ask is, “Why did Jesus need to be baptized?  John was baptizing people for the repentance of their sins, and Jesus had no sin.  John was telling them to prepare for the Kingdom of God; Jesus was bringing the Kingdom of God.”

John himself, in verse 14, gives voice to this very objection.  I have found two answers to it in the writings of the Fathers of the Church.  The first is that Jesus was not purified by the water, but He purified the water for us.  By His baptism, Jesus sanctified the waters of baptism.  Remember that John’s baptism was not the Sacrament of Baptism.  Jesus would leave that to His Church Himself.

The second is contained to Jesus’s response to John’s objection, “Allow it now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.”  John’s baptism was of God.  People would certainly be interested to see whether Jesus would endorse it.  Not to mention that Jesus was the leader of His disciples, and He has left us the perfect example of how to live.  It may not have been necessary for Jesus to be baptized, but it is necessary for us.  He was setting the example for us to follow. 

Imagine the humility of God on display in the act of being baptized.  John was baptizing sinners.  Who was coming to him?  Prostitutes and tax collectors…and the Son of God.  He got into those same waters and underwent the same baptism as we who are sinners.  There is no depth to the humility of God when it comes to love of us.

 

Note:  As always, when I reflect on Scripture, I am forced to remember my own limitations of knowledge and wisdom.  I ask for emails from anyone who has something to add.  

Praying with the Heart of St. Paul

Praying with the Heart of St. Paul

This Sunday’s second reading (1Tim2:1-8) really caught my attention. It has long pricked my conscience, but I heard parts of it I never noticed before. I would welcome feedback from any priest or theologian regarding the comments I make here.

In verse 2, we are told to offer prayers “for kings and for all in authority.” This I have done, but it has been a challenge, especially since 2008. Readers of this blog have heard me bemoan the policies of the Obama administration many times, as many Christians have. But I have consistently prayed for him.

After the disaster of 2012, and an election I do not believe was validly conducted, it became even harder to do. I have wondered, were Germans supposed to pray for Hitler? We are to pray for our enemies, I know, and I do not compare Mr. Obama to Hitler, but how am I supposed to pray for this man by name every day, I wondered? I have taken to praying specifically for his conversion, which I know is what is most important for any soul. But still I wondered, am I embracing fully the command of the Gospel?

Then I heard this reading at Mass this week, both on Tuesday and again on Sunday, and something caught my attention that never had before. After St. Paul asks for prayers to be offered for kings and those in authority, he says, “that we may be able to lead undisturbed and tranquil lives in perfect piety and dignity.”

Is St. Paul especially asking for prayers for those in authority because they have the power to grant earthly peace to the Church? I have genuinely desired the salvation of Mr. Obama’s soul and yet I have been praying for his conversion particularly so that his persecution of Catholics (HHS mandate, for example) and promotion of anti-Christian values might end. This has caused me to feel a little self-serving, but I wonder if this is much of what St. Paul had in mind.

I have also wondered if my desire for “a tranquil life” is appropriate for a member of the Church Militant. Verse 3, however, says that “this is good and pleasing to God our savior.”

So I will continue to pray for the conversion of Mr. Obama, and for a tranquil life as a Catholic, with more confidence now. And I will also remember the last part of that sentence, which reminds us that even if we should find that tranquility, there are always battles to be won: “[God] wills everyone to be saved and to come to knowledge of the truth.”

Not Peace, but Division

Not Peace, but Division

Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth?  No, I tell you, but rather division.  From now on a household of five will be divided, three against two and two against three; a father will be divided against his son and a son against his father, a mother against her daughter and a daughter against her mother, a mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. (Lk. 12:51-53)

These words of Jesus come from this past Sunday’s Gospel.  This reading is definitely one of those that makes people uncomfortable, especially people who are used to a sterilized reading of the Bible.  How can Jesus say that He has come to separate families?  Don’t we value family as Christians?  Shouldn’t we desire peace in our families?  Why would Jesus want to injure our most intimate human relationships?

Well, of course Jesus doesn’t desire strife in families.  As Catholics, we value family, and take seriously family obligations, as much as anyone, and more than most.  So how are we to understand this Gospel, or apply it to our lives?

I’m sure your parish priest gave an excellent answer to this question on Sunday, but I want to look at only one angle of it.

Often in Scripture, Jesus shows the incredible value of something by highlighting the goods that must be sacrificed for it.  So, for example, we know how exalted celibacy is because of the great good of marriage, which is sacrificed for its sake.  Jesus tells us that our devotion to Him must surpass even that to our own families, which has always been held as one of the highest goods, among both Christians and Jews.

An encounter with Jesus demands a choice.  How will we respond to Him?  Because our relationship with Him is even greater than those with our families, it can not be sacrificed for family peace.  In the passage above, Jesus makes clear exactly what we must be willing to suffer for His sake.

Of course, God offers grace to our families.  They are an image of His, and we should desire true peace in our families, a peace cemented by a mutual love of God.

But many Catholics suffer because that peace has not been realized in their families.  Often it is the faithful members who are blamed.  Their devotion to Jesus (“religious fanaticism” is how it will probably be characterized) has caused the division.  They are rigid, unwilling to compromise their values for the sake of the demands of their less faithful family members.

This can begin to wear, not only on the emotions of a Christian, but even on his conscience.  Is it true?  Am I a fanatic, who is causing strain in the family, the very family that God so values?  Am I unreasonable for being faithful to my principles when it would be so much easier for everyone if I just compromised my values a little?

Sunday’s Gospel answers with a resounding, “NO!”  Our consciences need not be troubled.  Jesus tells us that this is the price we may have to pay for our faithfulness.  And He makes it clear that it is a price worth paying, a price that we must be willing to pay.

Now, of course, we should examine our attitudes and motives, and whether our practice of our Faith can be characterized by authentic charity.  But we should never be ashamed of being uncompromising with our values. Who knows?  Perhaps our fortitude will be the instrument God uses to bring our families true peace, in Heaven.

The Great Apostasy: A Catholic Response

The Great Apostasy:

A Catholic Response

Note: This article is not meant to single out Mormons (for whom I have great affection) for criticism.  However, the Great Apostasy is the foundational Mormon doctrine, and is a direct attack at the claims made by the Catholic Church.  Therefore, it is imperative that Catholics understand how to respond when we are inevitably challenged.

          If you have Mormon friends or family, and if you’ve ever discussed religion with them, you have probably encountered the theory of the “Great Apostasy.”  It is the foundational doctrine of Mormonism and the reason why they say we should leave the Catholic Church.  So what is the Great Apostasy, and is it true?

          The Great Apostasy is central to the Mormon understanding of Church history.  One thing the Latter-Day Saints (LDS – Mormons) get right is that they do see clearly that Jesus established a visible Church, with hierarchy and authority.  They will generally agree that the Catholic Church can trace its roots back to that original Church that Jesus established.  If the Catholic Church is the Church Jesus founded 2,000 years ago (a point on which Catholics and Mormons generally agree), why shouldn’t one belong to it?

          Because, the Mormon teaching goes, that Church fell into complete and total apostasy very early and replaced the true (Mormon) gospel with a false (Catholic) gospel.  So the Holy Spirit left the Church, Jesus was no longer the Head of that Body, and there was no true Church left on the Earth.  Jesus had to restore the gospel through a new Church, which He established through the New York farm boy Joseph Smith in the 1820s.

          That is the Mormon claim.  Missionaries will tell you that story with confidence.  They will say that throughout the centuries there were reformers like Martin Luther and John Calvin, who recovered parts of the original gospel message, but there was no way to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.  There needed to be a new Church, with new authority, established in these latter days.  That is the LDS Church.

          This may sound completely unbelievable to us, but there are 10 million people who take it seriously and they are pulling Catholics out of the Church, so we had better know how to respond.  There are some simple ways to show, not only that the Great Apostasy didn’t happen, but that it couldn’t happen.  The following is certainly not exhaustive, but hopefully a good start.

          Since we do share some common ground over the nature of the Church, we should be able to establish that the question of the Great Apostasy should have direct impact on a Mormon’s assessment of the Catholic Church.

          The first place I would go to show that the Great Apostasy is a falsehood is the Scriptures.  Since Mormons use the King James translation of the Bible, that is what I will quote here.

          First, we turn to Matthew 28:19,20, in which Jesus commissions His disciples to make disciples of all nations.  Since this is something that could only be accomplished after the lifetimes of the eleven men hearing Him on that day, clearly He is commissioning the entire Church.  Look at verse 20: “lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.” (Scriptural emphases added throughout)  If the Great Apostasy happened, that statement of Jesus is a lie.

          Next, turn to John 14:16.  “And I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you forever.”  How long does Jesus say the Comforter (the Holy Spirit) will abide with the Church?  Forever.

          Turn to Matthew 16:18 – “And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”  Jesus is building His Church on the rock.  What does He say about the man who built his house on rock in Matthew 7:25?  “And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock.”

          Our Mormon friend may come back with some Scripture of his own, such as 1Tim 4:1 – “Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith…”  Notice that the passage says some will depart from the faith.  In every such passage we hear that some, or even many, will fall away.  In and of itself that implies that not all will fall away.  No total apostasy.

          Besides, look at Matthew 13:24-30.  When the enemy sows weeds with the wheat, what does the Master say?  “Let them grow together until the harvest; then they will be separated.” 

Finally, in Ephesians 3:21, St. Paul says, “Unto him be glory in the church by Jesus Christ throughout all ages, world without end.”  Not only was there no total apostasy, if we take God’s Word seriously, there couldn’t be one.

          Scripture is only one tool to use to show that the Great Apostasy never happened.  The next is history, particularly the writings of the Fathers of the Church.  The myriad of writings from men who learned the Faith at the feet of the Apostles – St. Clement of Rome (disciple of St. Peter); St. Polycarp and St. Ignatius of Antioch (disciples of St. John); Sts. Irenaeus and Justin Martyr only slightly later, are powerful evangelical tools.  And there are many, many more.  Not only do they demonstrate that the Great Apostasy never happened, they show without a doubt, that the early Church was Catholic.

          Look at just a few quotes:

St. Ignatius of Antioch (A.D. 110):

Make certain, therefore, that you all observe one common Eucharist; for there is but one Body of our Lord Jesus Christ, and but one cup of union with his Blood, and one single altar of sacrifice – Letter to the Philadelphians

[The heretics] abstain from the Eucharist and from prayer because they do not confess that the Eucharist is the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ, flesh which suffered for our sins and which that Father, in his goodness, raised up again. They who deny the gift of God are perishing in their disputes – Letter to the Smyrnaens

St. Justin Martyr (A.D. 151):

For not as common bread nor common drink do we receive [the Eucharist]; but since Jesus Christ our Savior was made incarnate by the word of God and had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so too, as we have been taught, the food which has been made into the Eucharist by the Eucharistic prayer set down by him, and by the change of which our blood and flesh is nurtured, is both the flesh and the blood of that incarnated Jesus – First Apology

St. Irenaeus (A.D. 180 – Irenaeus was a student of St. Polycarp, who received the Faith from St. John the Apostle):

For with this Church [in Rome], because of its superior origin, all Churches must agree, that is, all the faithful in the whole world; and it is in her that the faithful everywhere have maintained the Apostolic tradition – Against Heresies

          There are only three ways to explain this:

1)     These men received the Gospel from the Apostles, but intentionally and universally corrupted it, in exactly the same way, throughout the world.  This would be an incredible task since they lived throughout the Mediterranean world and would have found it hard to communicate or even know of each other.  It is further incredible because these men died horrific deaths for their faith.  No one would die such terrible deaths for what they knew to be a lie, yet all these men courageously faced martyrdom.

So, scenario 1 seems very implausible.  How about scenario 2? Even more unrealistic.

2)     The Fathers died as martyrs for the Catholic Gospel because they received it from the Apostles, but it was the Apostles that took the true (Mormon) gospel, intentionally corrupted it, and then passed on that corruption to their disciples.  This may be more possible on a practical level since the Apostles all knew each other and were all together, so they could have master-minded such a scheme.  But they also had personal contact with Jesus, and had their lives transformed by Him.  Why would they betray Him now?  And like the fathers, they too died horrific deaths as martyrs for their faith.  There’s no way it was a corruption.

3)     The only explanation left is the true one.  The reason these men died for their Catholic Faith is because it is exactly what was given to them by Jesus.  He gave it to the Apostles, who witnessed to it by their lives; they gave it to the fathers, who also witnessed to it by their lives.

Of course, if you follow that line of reasoning where it leads, there’s no denying it leads to Rome.  Whether a Mormon or Protestant or Jehovah’s Witness, even once they discover the fathers, there will still be many questions and misconceptions to clarify.  We need to be patient and loving and supportive of their journey.

And we also need to support fellow Catholics.  Like St. Peter, we need to strengthen our brothers, so they (and we) will not be pulled from the bosom of the Church, the Body of Christ.