Theological Dialogue 10: A Collective Soul? Maybe... But not in the way you think.

When the world comes to its inevitable end, and all human souls are judged by Jesus, does that mean that there is a set amount of human souls? Why do you think God would have made a certain amount of souls, but make His kingdom last forever? If the possibilities are endless, do you think there are infinite human souls, and if not, what limit do you think God would stop at?

Hey!

This is a particularly interesting question because there are a number of theories surrounding the amount of souls that exist in the world, but biblically, we don’t get a ton of evidence supporting one over the other. But ultimately, there are three schools of thought. One that suggests that the number of souls in the world is limited, one that asserts that only humans have souls, and a final theory that proposes that all things have souls (this was mainly Aristotle and his concept of the vegetative, sensitive, and rational soul, Reasons for the Faith A).

The implications of each are particularly fascinating. But in hopes of answering your question, we’ll look at Plato and his theory of limited souls. Plato suggests that there is a set number of souls, which inevitably leads to the notion that there are human beings walking around without souls, or at least human beings that are awaiting a soul. Christopher More wrote a really interesting book called “Dirty Job”, that discussed this very issue. The premise was that souls passed from human to human through death. Essentially, when one person died, his or her soul was released into the world and eventually landed with a new individual, the person meant to have that soul. There is a certain degree of romance in this. Our soul is literally meant for us, and shared by others. In a fascinating way, it is the soul that connects humanity.

However, the issue with this kind of theory is that it does not connect the soul to our humanity. In other words, we can be human without a soul, or as we are awaiting one. My problem with this line of thought is that I believe that the soul is intricately connected to our humanity. I do not think that we are human without it.

If we look back at the moment in Genesis when God makes man, He breathes a nashema (soul) into him. This, in a lot of ways, seems to be the differentiating factor. There is every reasons to believe that the world was inhabited by humanoid like creatures that existed prior to Adam, but they were, as Adam suggests, not man. They were something else in their entirety, and consequently, it was the soul (the imago dei) that separated Adam from these humanoid animals. Thus, the soul is what makes us human, and without it, we have no image of God, we are not a representation of the form and ultimately, we are not us.

In accordance with this notion, I would argue that there are an infinite number of souls in the world. Every human possesses one. And that is part of the beauty. We contain God within us, and yet we take nothing from Him.  And that is the very thing that allows for God’s kingdom to be eternal. It is not bound by space or time and consequently it can contain a limitless number of souls.

Another question : If God and heaven are eternal - or outside of time, timeless. Does that mean when we die and go to heaven, we will be able to see the souls of people who have yet to pass away on earth? For example, my grandfather who died when I was a baby would be able to see my soul in heaven as if I'd already passed right now.

 So this is ultimately a question of omniscience. And I do not think that when we die we necessarily inherit God’s understanding of time or His eternal vision. Obviously this is highly theoretical, but when we talk about time in regard to God, we must understand that He sees all things in the present. Your question reflects a good understanding of this notion, but I think it is important to know that heaven is not eternal in the same way that it is a permanent present. The grounds for this claim center on the fact that, biblically, we understand that the Kingdom of God is “…yet to come.”

Now, amongst the many theories concerning heaven, there are two that carry particular credence. Either heaven and the Kingdom of God are one in the same and we are at rest until Christ assumes His earthly throne, or heaven and the Kingdom are two distinct notions, and there are those who currently reside in heaven and those who have yet to come. The former of these two notions is problematic due to the fact that we see Christ ascend to “heaven” near the start of Acts, and we have reason to believe that Mary was assumed into heaven as well. However, Christ does not really offer us anything regarding the state of heaven, but He constantly references the Kingdom, claiming that it is an earthly Kingdom and that it is near. Consequently, we do not really know what happens to people after death. Be it the apostles, the saints, or anyone for that matter.

The Church of course teaches that some go to heaven and we can pray to them for guidance, but unfortunately, this isn’t really a scriptural notion, it is more of a theological one. Heaven is a very elusive concept, and appropriately so. In our fallen state, why would we assume that we can comprehend perfection?

On the other hand, if heaven is in fact separate from the Kingdom that Christ speaks of, then it is where He currently reigns while awaiting the end times. I think this type of thinking is far more satisfactory to most because we like to think that after death, we go to heaven and all is made well. But unfortunately what feels best is not always correct. But who am I to say? Maybe there is a golden gate and fluffy clouds, and maybe we do meet Christ face to face after we parish. That is certainly a beautiful way to think about death.

But wherever we end up, I do not think we are all there simultaneously. Maybe we wait for those who are to come, and maybe we even have the chance to guide them. Regarding your Grandpa, I think that he is waiting for you. Not in an anxious fashion, there is probably none of that in heaven, but in a wonderfully tranquil way. He knows you will arrive eventually and time is nothing there, so we probably do not feel the weight of it in the same way we do on earth.

Regardless of what it all looks like in the end, the one thing I can say with some confidence is this: In death, everything is illuminated. And only then are we made perfect in His truth.

I hope this helps to shed a little light on these topics. Your questions are fantastic ones, and not easy to answer. Thank you.

Theological Dialogue 9: Holy Days of Obligation

Why does the church have holy days of obligation? If our faith is what saves us, and not our works, how can we be obliged to do anything? Wouldn’t that kind of go against the teachings of the faith? I have also heard these days referred to as holy days of “opportunity”. Is that the same thing?

Thanks.

This is an extremely interesting question, and one that I do think warrants some explanation. First and foremost, the Church implements Holy Days of Obligation in an effort to celebrate significant moments in Christ’s ministry, Mary’s life, and church history in general. Essentially, these days are set aside so as to mark their importance outside our standard church going practices. In other words, the church wants to make them special, make them sacred, and thus they have been set apart, or dedicated, quite literally, which aligns directly with the etymological understanding of what it means to be holy (that which is separate).

Though it is somewhat of an elementary explanation, the Holy Days of Obligation are designed to pull us out of our standard routine in order for us to recognize that something profound is going on. From day to day and week to week, we tend to do much of the same thing, and sometimes that even includes going to church on Sundays (a Holy Day of Obligation by the way).  However, when a holy day falls on a Wednesday, or a Friday, it is equivocal to that moment when you are pulled away from your typical routine and asked to make time for something special, something worthwhile. The interesting part is that sometimes we allow ourselves to break from our consistent rhythm, and sometimes we do not. Whether or not our salvation depends on it is not so much the question, but why we refuse to find the time is actually extremely fascinating.

You are entirely right when you state that it is our “faith that saves us”. As for how that impacts the obligatory nature of holy days, I think it is important to recognize that these two issues are not cut of the same cloth. When the church declared the Holy Days of Obligation, it did not do so with the intention of tying them directly to your salvation. Much like the sacraments, that do not “save” you in and of themselves, but rather place you in relationship with Christ that you might be saved, the Holy Days of Obligation, and your dedication to them, speak to a lifestyle of salvation, they are not, in and of themselves, the saving mechanism.

You see, I think that we are afraid of this word obligation, which is in part why we have somewhat modified the title of these days to Holy Days of “Opportunity”. We have successfully maneuvered around our obligations, and instead created a situation in which we can now go to church and use it as an opportunity to grow closer to the Lord. The problem here is that, in opportunity, the entire dynamic has shifted. We are now celebrating these holy days for us. We have given ourselves the opportunity to say, “God, look how faithful I am. Look how I desire to be in relationship with you.” However, the reality of the matter is that on Holy Days of Obligation, and every Sunday for that matter, we are called to take time out of our day to worship the Lord. Not because of the benefits rendered, but because He is overwhelmingly deserving of that worship.

We need to no longer fear this notion of obligation and obedience, but rather embrace it. In Islam, the story of Abraham’s sacrifice is a very interesting one. Obviously, it is Ishmael and not Isaac under the knife, but the most fascinating part is that Abraham actually drives the knife into his son. However, when he opens his eyes, it is not Ishmael that lies dead beneath him, but a ram in Ishmael’s stead. Obviously the Catholic Church has a very different understanding of this particular sequence of events, but the motif, in a lot of ways, remains the same. Islam preaches faith and obedience, and in a lot of ways, Jesus does the same. But the interesting part is that faith and obedience in this sense are not separate entities but rather intimately tied to one another. In our faith, we will be obedient.

Christ establishes Himself as “the way, the truth and the light”. Essentially, at the foundation of this notion is the idea that Christ is our guide. He is the one that we should follow. And if we believe that, then following carries with it a certain degree of obedience.

In a world where we have become so accustomed to doing what we want (an issue I struggle with continuously) we have lost sight of the fact that sometimes we are called to sacrifice, to do something outside the normal order. In other words, we are called to be obedient. And not because our obedience will gain us our salvation, that’s not how this game works, but because our obedience stems from our love for God.

At the end of the day, and in a funny way, there is an opportunity here. An opportunity to be obedient: Obedient to the teachings of the church. Obedient to the commandments of Christ. And obedient, for once, to something other than ourselves.

So what is a Holy Day of Obligation? Ultimately, it’s our chance to admit that we aren’t running the show, and it’s our chance to revel in that fact.