St. Patrick’s Breastplate.

Yesterday was St. Patrick’s Day, so I posted his Confession. The other thing he’s known for writing—and okay, he may not have written it at all, but it’s had his name on it for centuries—is called St. Patrick’s Breastplate. It’s sometimes called his Lorica; that’s just Latin for breastplate.

It’s not a literal breastplate. It’s a hymn, which tends to be recited as a rote prayer. Sometimes people set it to music though. It was written in Old Irish, and English translations vary. Here’s one of them.

I arise today through a mighty strength,

the invocation of the trinity,

through belief in the threeness,

through confession of the oneness

of the Creator of creation.

I arise today through the strength of Christ with his baptism,

through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,

through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension,

through the strength of his descent for the judgment of doom.

I arise today through the strength of the love of cherubim

in obedience of angels,

in the service of the archangels,

in hope of resurrection to meet with reward,

in prayers of patriarchs,

in predictions of prophets,

in preaching of apostles,

in faiths of confessors,

in innocence of holy virgins,

in deeds of righteous men.

I arise today through the strength of heaven—

light of sun, brilliance of moon,

splendor of fire, speed of lightning,

swiftness of wind, depth of sea,

stability of earth, firmness of rock.

I arise today through God’s strength to pilot me—

God’s might to uphold me, God’s wisdom to guide me,

God’s eye to look before me, God’s ear to hear me,

God’s word to speak for me, God’s hand to guard me,

God’s way to lie before me, God’s shield to protect me,

God’s host to secure me:

against snares of demons,

against temptations of vices,

against inclinations of nature,

against everyone who shall wish me ill,

afar and anear, alone and in multitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and these evils—

against every cruel and merciless power

that may oppose my body and my soul,

against incantations of false prophets,

against black laws of heathenry,

against false laws of heretics,

against craft of idolatry,

against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,

against every knowledge that endangers man’s body and soul.

Christ to protect me today

against poison, against burning,

against drowning, against wounding,

so that there may come abundance of reward.

Christ with me.

Christ before me, Christ behind me.

Christ in me.

Christ beneath me, Christ above me.

Christ on my right, Christ on my left.

Christ in breadth, Christ in length, Christ in height.

Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me.

Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me.

Christ in every eye that sees me.

Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today through a mighty strength,

the invocation of the trinity,

through belief in the threeness,

through confession of the oneness

of the Creator of creation.

Salvation is of the Lord. Salvation is of the Lord. Salvation is of Christ.

May your salvation, oh Lord, be ever with us.

Other translations swap “I bind unto myself” for “I arise today,” so maybe that’s the version you’ve heard before.

The earth’s salt.

Mark 9.43-50, Matthew 5.13, Luke 14.34-35.

If you’ve ever heard someone called “the salt of the earth,” usually they mean an ordinary but decent person. And no, that’s not what Jesus meant when he coined the phrase “salt of the earth”—or as I translated it, “the earth’s salt.” I’ve no idea how it evolved from a remarkable person to an unremarkable person. When Jesus uses it in his Sermon on the Mount, he means remarkable.

He means a flavor enhancer. Be the salt of the earth: Enhance it. Make it taste better.

Mark 9.49-50 KWL

49“Everything for the fire will be salted. Lv 2.13

50Salt is good—

when salt becomes saltless,

in what way will it season anything?

Have salt in yourselves:

Have peace with one another.”

Matthew 5.13 KWL

“You’re* the earth’s salt.

When salt is tasteless,

in what way will it salt things?

It’s good for nothing—

unless it’s thrown outside for people to walk on.”

Luke 14.34-35 KWL

34“So salt is good—

when salt is also tasteless,

in what way will it salt things?

35It’s useful for neither the ground nor the dungheap.

They throw it outside.

One who has an ear to hear: Hear me!”

Beatitudes: Both awesome and awful.

Matthew 5.3-12, Luke 6.20-26.

Many of Jesus’s teachings are bunched together as the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew, and the Sermon on the Plain in Luke. They overlap a bunch, so I’m going through ’em together. Both of them begin with beatitudes.

Beatitude is an old-timey word for “blessing.” Most translations follow the KJV’s convention and begin each line with “Blessed are the…” as Jesus lists the sucky, not-so-great situation under which these folks are groaning. They’re poor. Mourning. Humble. Starving for justice. Merciful in a world without mercy. Pure-hearted in a dirty culture. Striving for peace where there’s nothing but rage and fear. Getting hunted down, mocked, slandered, driven out. These things sure don’t sound like blessings.

And let’s be blunt: They’re not blessings. Jesus is not blessing us with poverty, misery, injustice, no peace, and persecution. He’s telling us our Father intends to relieve the people suffering from these things. I’ll explain further, but first let’s get to the beatitudes in these two gospels.

Matthew 5.3-12 KWL

3“The spiritually poor: How awesome!

—the heavenly kingdom is theirs.

4Those mourning: How awesome!

they’ll be comforted.

5The gentle: How awesome!

—they’ll inherit the land.

6Those hungry and thirsty for justice: How awesome!

—they’ll be filled.

7The merciful: How awesome!—

they’ll be shown mercy.

8Those of clean mind: How awesome!—

they’ll see God.

9Those making peace: How awesome!—

they’ll be called God’s children.

10Those hunted down because of justice: How awesome!

—the heavenly kingdom is theirs.

11When people condemn you², hunt you² down,

say everything evil against you², lie,

all because of me: How awesome you² are!

12Rejoice and celebrate for your² great reward in heaven!

For they persecuted the prophets before you² this way.”

Luke 6.20-23 KWL

20Jesus, lifting his eyes to his students, says:

“The poor: How awesome!

—God’s kingdom is yours².

21Those hungry now: How awesome!

—you’ll² be filled.

Those crying now: How awesome!

—you’ll² laugh.

22When the people hate you², segregate you²,

condemn and throw out your² names as if evil,

all because of me: How awesome you² are!

23Rejoice on that day! Skip!

Look at your² great reward in heaven!

Their ancestors did likewise to the prophets.”

Yeah, you likely noticed I went with a much different translation of μακάριοι/makárihi than the traditional “blessed.”

Don’t break up with unbelievers!

1 Corinthians 7.10-17.

When I was growing up, both Mom and my pastors taught us kids we shouldn’t date non-Christians. Because, God forbid, you were gonna fall in love with them, marry them, and now you were gonna have perpetual disagreements with your pagan spouse about religion. Then we’d have kids, and she’d of course object to me wanting to raise ’em Christian. Then she’d let the Jehovah’s Witnesses talk to her some morning, join them, and now I’d have to deal with all the heretic garbage they taught her. Or pick some other worst-case scenario; just imagine your spouse turns into a massive jerk… and presume you somehow won’t turn into one too.

Done? Good. I myself didn’t need to imagine any worst-case scenarios, ’cause I grew up with a Christian mom and an atheist dad, so I knew exactly what that looked like. Dad didn’t forbid us kids from going to church with Mom and becoming Christians, but he certainly wasn’t thrilled about it. And he especially wasn’t thrilled whenever he did something immoral—usually theft—and his Christian kids would object, and spoil his evil fun.

In the Roman Empire, divorce was widespread, and people did it for any and every reason. So if a Roman’s spouse got mixed up in some new gnostic religion, and was suddenly spending all the family’s money on it, and our hypothetical Roman wanted nothing to do with it: Divorce! Easy-peasy. Property gets divided, and you go your way with your money. And your spouse goes to temple with all their money, and leaves temple with no money, but at least you still got all your money.

Some of this attitude leaked into Jesus’s culture, and as a result a number of Jews likewise divorced for any and every reason. And certain Pharisee rabbis let them. This, despite the LORD telling Malachi he hates divorce. Ml 2.16 NKJV The rabbis would simply find a convenient loophole which permitted divorce in this instance… and could always somehow find a way to permit divorce in every instance. Human depravity is clever like that.

When Jesus was questioned about the issue, he said nope, divorce was never God’s idea. Moses permitted it “because of your hard-heartedness,” Mt 19.8 KWL i.e. your closed-mindedness; people won’t accept any scenario where divorce isn’t an option. Indeed Jesus’s own students came to him afterwards and objected Mt 19.10 —and Jesus said yeah, not everyone’s gonna accept this teaching. Mt 19.11 People should go into marriage expecting it to be lifelong, but they just don’t. They want, “just in case,” loopholes. We all want loopholes.

So some of the first Christians figured religion oughta be one of those loopholes, right? If a Greco-Roman pagan became Christian, but her spouse was a massive Zeus worshiper and wanted to stick with Zeusery, what was she to do? Especially if he demanded she come to temple with him, and couldn’t figure out why she couldn’t worship Jesus and Zeus, just like she worshiped Athena and Zeus, or Demeter and Zeus, or Artemis and Hera and Hestia and Zeus. Why’s Jesus so exclusive? What, are you monotheist now?

So that’s the cultural background to today’s scripture—namely, how Paul and Sosthenes addressed the whole pagan-spouse problem.

The background of the Sermon on the Mount.

Matthew 5.1-2.

Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount begins in Matthew 5, where Jesus “went up into a mountain” Mt 5.1 KJV to teach his students (Greek μαθηταὶ/mathité, “pupil,” KJV “disciple”).

Matthew 5.1-2 KWL

1Seeing the crowds,

Jesus goes up, into the hill,

and as he is sitting down

his students come to him.

2Opening his mouth,

Jesus is teaching his students,

saying…

and he starts with the Beatitudes.

Y’notice my translation has “hill.” The original Greek text has ὄρος/óros, which can mean either “hill” or “mountain,” and the person (not necessarily St. Jerome) who originally translated Matthew for the Vulgate decided it meant montem, “mountain,” so that’s how Christians have historically interpreted it. That’s why it’s the Sermon on the Mount, not Hill.

Thing is, I’ve been to the Mount of Beatitudes in northern Israel, where Christian tradition says Jesus gave this sermon. It’s a hill.

A view of the Mount of Beatitudes from Capharnaum. See that domed building? That’s the octagonal Church of the Beatitudes, built by the Roman Catholics in 1938. Berthold Werner, Wikimedia

True, not everybody agrees what the difference is between a hill and a mountain. In English and American custom, a mountain is 1,000 feet above its surrounding geography. But of course if the locals are used to calling a nearby hill “the mountain,” state geographers might disagree, but it’s a mountain to the locals regardless. The same is true with the Mount of Beatitudes: Christians keep calling it a mountain, but it’s not. It’s only about 200m (about 650 feet) above Lake Tiberias (i.e. the Sea of Galilee). It’s actually 25m below sea level. Where I’m sitting in the Sacramento Valley, as I write this, I am at an elevation 31m above the Mount of Beatitudes. That’s how low of a “mountain” it is.

The 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘴.

Most movements have slogans; they help promote the movement. The Protestant movement is no different. When it began in the 1500s, the Reformers came up with slogans. Back then the international language of Christendom was Latin, so of course the slogans are all in Latin.

The three I’m writing about today are called the solas—because they all start with the Latin word sola. You’re probably more familiar with the masculine form of it, solo, which is also an English word and means the very same thing: Alone, only, unaccompanied, done by one person without assistance. Anyway, the three slogans are:

Sola fide, “by faith alone.”

Sola gratia, “by grace alone.”

Sola scriptura, “by scripture alone.”

In the 20th century, various Christians created two more slogans which they claim are also part of the solas: Solus Christus, “Christ alone”; and soli Deo gratia, “glory to God alone.” I have no problem with people coming up with new slogans, but they aren’t part of the original solas, so I won’t talk about them as much.

So… why am I bringing up some five-century-old Latin slogans? Because sometimes you’re gonna hear Christians quote them, talk about them, use them… and use them wrong. The early Reformers had specific reasons for coining these slogans, and we gotta know what they meant by them before we just quote ’em haphazardly.

And even if people don’t use the Latin words—if they use the English translations “by faith alone,” “by grace alone,” and “by scripture alone,” or translate ’em into any other language and teach Christians about ’em—again, let’s know what the Reformers meant by them.

Do we perform sacraments or ordinances?

ORDINANCE 'ɔr.dɪ.nəns, 'ɔrd.nəns noun. Authoritative order or decree.

2. Religious ritual; particularly one ordained by Christ.

3. What Evangelical Christians call sacraments.

When I talk about certain Christian rituals, I call them sacraments. And you’re gonna find many Evangelicals really don’t like this word.

These folks think of “sacraments” as a Roman Catholic word… and some of them are a bit anti-Catholic… and some of ’em are extremely anti-Catholic. They still got a lot of hard feelings about the Catholics, dating all the way back to the original Protestant spats with Roman Catholicism. To them, “sacrament” has a lot of bothersome Catholic baggage attached… so they refuse to use it.

What do they call Christian rituals then? Well Evangelicals could just call ’em rituals, but for some reason we never really wanted to; it makes us think of dead rituals, or dead religion, which they’re not. Somehow the word “ordinances” caught on. Or “holy ordinances.” ’Cause Jesus ordained them.

The two ordinances which Evangelicals tend to single out, are holy communion 1Co 11.23-26 and baptism. Mt 28.19 Some of us also recognize Jesus also mandated foot-washing, Jn 13.14-15 but not every Evangelical lists it as an ordiance. Probably because they don’t wanna wash feet, which sorta merits its own article.

Anyway. Communion and baptism are definitely ordinances… and you’ll find Evangelicals tend to also practice all the other sacraments the Catholics do. They just won’t call them sacraments. Or ordinances, ’cause they figure Jesus didn’t ordain them. Although often the apostles did.

CATHOLIC SACRAMENT	EVANGELICAL EQUIVALENT	WHO ORDAINED IT
Baptism	Baptism	Jesus
Confirmation	Confession of faith at baptism	Peter
Eucharist	Holy communion	Jesus
Penance	Counseling, confession, and intercession	James
Anointing the sick	Anointing the sick	James
Holy orders	Laying hands on people for ministry	The LORD, to Moses
Matrimony	Wedding ceremonies	9th-century Christians

As you notice, Evangelicals still anoint and pray for the sick. Still lay hands on people they’re sending out to do ministry. Still perform wedding ceremonies, funerals, and baby dedications. Still counsel and intercede for people. It’s just they won’t call these other things “ordinances” because they’re not the three ordinances Jesus gave us… and they’ll still try to avoid the word “ritual,” even though it’s precisely what we’re doing.

It’s all about “not doing as Catholics do,” even though we’re totally doing as Catholics do.