On the election of a pope.

Back when Francis was elected pope in 2013, I wrote the following article for a previous blog. You can change that first paragraph to read, “On 8 May 2025, a Roman Catholic committee of church leaders elected Cardinal Robert Prevost of the United States to be their church’s new leader, the pope. By custom, the new pope usually takes on a new name as part of the job, so he’s gonna be known as Leo XIV.”

Annoyingly, the reasons I wrote this article still apply. So, time to rehash it.

On 13 March 2013, a Roman Catholic committee of church leaders elected Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio of Argentina to be their church’s new leader, the pope. By custom, the new pope usually takes on a new name as part of the job, so he’s gonna be known as Franciscus, or for we English-speakers, Pope Francis. (Named for one of my favorite saints, Francesco Bernardone, a.k.a. Francis of Assisi.)

What does this mean for Christians? Well, not every Christian is a Roman Catholic. I’m not. But since Catholicism is the largest branch of Christianity, and since your average pagan has no idea about what a pope is or does, or even the differences between one denomination and another, they’re gonna assume the pope is in charge of Christianity, and anything he does affects every single Christian on the planet. You know, like everybody assumes the Dalai Lama is in charge of every single Buddhist. (Oh, wait, you thought he was in charge of every Buddhist? Well now you know how pagans think of the pope.)

The pope’s job, really, is to preserve the Catholic Church: He preserves the gospel of Christ Jesus, and he upholds his church’s traditions. Pagans don’t understand this: They think the pope is the boss of the church. They think he can order the church what to do and think. That’s why a lot of pagan journalists love to speculate, “What sort of changes might a new pope make in the Catholic Church?” Some of them dream of a new, exciting, permissive pope who’ll make all the progressive changes they’ve been fantasizing about: No more bans on abortion and birth control. No more bans on same-sex marriage. Anybody can become a priest, whether male or female, gay or straight, married or single, Christian or atheist. Anything they wish wasn’t a sin, will now totally be permitted. (That way, they’ll feel a whole lot better about identifying themselves as Catholic, despite the fact they don’t follow Catholic teachings, or even Jesus, at all.) But none of that is the pope’s job. He can’t change any of that. Not without a great big church council, and sometimes not even then.

Now, other denominations don’t work this way. In some, the president decides the church is gonna work a different way, and by golly it does work a different way. In others, the pastors gotta meet and vote before changes can be made—but sometimes they do vote, and huge changes are made. Now, we can debate about whether those changes are any good, or consistent with the scriptures at all. (Some of them certainly aren’t.) But the Catholic Church isn’t one of those denominations. Change comes slowly. And they’re not gonna ramp up the process, simply because society rushes headlong into everything.

Te Deum.

Te Deum teɪ 'deɪ.əm is a rote prayer. Really it’s a hymn which dates back to the late 300s. It’s named for its first words, Te Deum laudamus/“To God we praise.” Traditions say it was written by St. Ambrose when he baptized St. Augustine. Or St. Hiliary or St. Nicetas of Remesiana wrote it. Meh; who cares how we got it. It’s been a popular prayer for the past 17 centuries, and has been set to music many times in many ways.

The Presbyterian Church’s Book of Common Worship translates it like so.

We praise you, O God,

we acclaim you as Lord,

all creation worships you,

Father everlasting.

To you, all angels, all the powers of heaven,

the cherubim and seraphim, sing in endless praise:

Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might,

heaven and earth are full of your glory.

The glorious company of apostles praise you.

The noble fellowship of prophets praise you.

The white-robed army of martyrs praise you.

Throughout the world the holy church acclaims you;

Father, of majesty unbounded,

your true and only Son, worthy of all praise,

the Holy Spirit, advocate and guide.

You, Christ, are the king of glory,

the eternal Son of the Father.

When you took our flesh to set us free

you humbly chose the Virgin’s womb.

You overcame the sting of death

and opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers.

You are seated at God’s right hand in glory.

We believe that you will come, and be our judge.

Come then, Lord, and help your people,

bought with the price of your own blood,

and bring us with your saints

to glory everlasting. BCW 570-571

Praying for the next pope.

Pope Francis, the head of the Roman Catholic Church, died Easter Monday. You probably knew this already; his funeral and interment has been all over the news.

Likewise the church’s process of picking his successor: All the cardinals under the age of 80 have to go to Vatican City for the conclave, the process where they’re locked in the Sistine Chapel, and vote for a Catholic man—any Catholic man; he doesn’t have to be a cardinal—to be the new pope. They keep voting till one of their candidates gets a majority. Used ballots get thrown in a stove and burned; they add a little something to the fire to make the smoke white or black. Black means they’re still voting; white means they’ve picked a guy. If he accepts the job, he’s the new pope; if he doesn’t, back to voting.

Catholics are of course praying the cardinals pick a good guy. Praying the Holy Spirit lead the cardinals to pick a good guy. (Praying the cardinals even listen to the Holy Spirit. True, men are made cardinals for all sorts of reasons; some of those reasons have admittedly been political. But hopefully all were chosen because they’re good examples of following Jesus.)

And, as I’ve pointed out to some of my fellow non-Catholics, we should be praying the cardinals pick a good guy.

I get various responses to that:

• “Already am!”
• “…Oh! Yeah, I should be praying the cardinals pick a good guy.”
• “…What? Why should I pray for that? I’m not Catholic.”
• “What?” [followed by scoffing] “Who cares who they pick.”

You can obviously tell which of the responses are the anti-Catholic ones.

God is not too busy for your prayers.

Honestly, I’ve never heard anyone state, “But God’s too busy to listen” as the reason they don’t pray. They might feel it, or secretly deep down believe it… but they don’t say this.

Because while they may not know squat about God, they are fully he’s almighty. Even pagans describe him as almighty. He has the power to effortlessly handle the volume of eight billion prayers a minute; basic divine almightiness includes the ability to juggle infinite conversations. They know that at least.

They might’ve seen the movie Bruce Almighty, in which God (played by Morgan Freeman) grants Bruce Nolan (played by Jim Carrey) his powers. Bruce also has to hear all the prayers God does, and he can’t handle the volume. (God later explains he’s aware Bruce can’t handle the prayers of the whole planet, so he just limited Bruce to his hometown. That’s still a lot—and Bruce can’t handle that either.) So they might suspect God can’t give each individual prayer the attention we’d like him to. But they still know God, as popularly described by both Christians and non-Christians, can so give each individual prayer his attention. ’Cause they know Bruce isn’t God… and for that matter neither is Morgan Freeman.

So yeah, this “God’s too busy” line is one people already know isn’t true. May struggle to believe it, but know it’s not true. May have to be reminded of the fact it’s not true, just a little… but only a little. Well here ya go: Your little reminder.

In my experience, whenever people say God’s not listening, they never say it’s because God can’t handle the prayer traffic. Instead they presume he’s not listening for other reasons. Usually a petty or silly one, like “I prayed wrong” or “I’m not worthy”—as if God only answers the prayers of the deserving, and that’s not them.

Because even little pagan kids know God’s not too busy to hear their prayers. Their ideas about God may have entirely come from popular culture, but pop culture nonetheless conveys the idea God hears all. Kinda like Santa Claus! Santa sees you when you’re sleeping, knows when you’re awake, knows if you’ve been bad or good… yet for some reason doesn’t know what you want for Christmas till you go to the shopping mall and tell him, but little kids never really think about that particular inconsistency. Anyway God’s at least as omniscient as Santa, and isn’t too busy to hear everything you’ve told him.

So it’s probably an utter waste of time for me to write an article about why God’s not too busy for our prayers: People already know otherwise! But I’m not gonna rule out the possibility, however small, that there’s some doubting Christian out there who somehow got the idea God’s just too busy for them.

Christians in slavery.

1 Corinthians 7.21-24.

As you likely know, slavery was practiced in bible times. It was part of ancient cultures’ criminal justice systems: If you broke the law, or were on the wrong side in a war, they’d either kill you, fine you, or enslave you. They didn’t do penitentiaries; their prisons either held people for trial, or held slaves.

Occasionally people object to the scriptures, and the apostles, because they didn’t fight slavery, nor declare it sin. To a large degree they didn’t have to. Plenty of scriptures mandated that Hebrews and Christians treat slaves humanely, treat Christian slaves like Christian family, and once they’ve worked off their debts to society, grant them freedom. And American slavery demonstrated that plenty of depraved people will distort or ignore the scriptures for their evil gain, claim to be Christian nonetheless, and eagerly go to war to keep people in chains.

Roman slavery was better than American slavery, but was still rife with abuse, evil, rape, and murder. Just because it happened in the bible, and in many ways is even a biblical principle—as we’ll see in today’s passage—does not mean slavery should still exist. All the more reason we needed to abolish it, and should continue to fight slavery and human trafficking where we find it.

Anyway. The last passage of 1 Corinthians I looked at, was about how Christians—well, male Christians—oughta remain in the same state of ritual circumcision they were in when they came to Jesus. If you’re a circumcised Jew, remain one; if you’re an uncircumcised gentile, remain one. You don’t need to change for Jesus. Work with the situation you’re in.

Today: Same thing if you’re a slave or freeman.

1 Corinthians 7.21-24 KWL

21Were you a slave when God called?

Don’t you mind.

But if you’re able to become free,

behave yourself all the more!

22For a slave called by the Master

is a freeman in the Master.

Likewise a freeman called by the Master

is the Master’s slave.

23You are properly purchased.

Don’t become slaves to people.

24Each person is in the place

where they were called, fellow Christians;

remain there, with God.

If you were a slave when you became Christian, Paul and Sosthenes say, “Don’t you mind.” 1Co 7.21 Slavery doesn’t disqualify you from God’s kingdom. It definitely limits how and where you can minister; your slaveholder has to grant permission, same as the warden of a prison, the case officer of a parolee, or the parent of an undisciplined child. If your slaveholder says you can’t, you really can’t.

But at the same time: Don’t you mind. Don’t worry about it. God is fully aware of your situation, and what you can and can’t do. And he has final say, not your slaveholder.

Make peace with your enemies.

Matthew 5.25-26, Luke 12.57-59.

In the scriptures, sins against others tend to be compared with debts. “Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.” Mt 6.12 KJV This was because among the ancients, a debt was the fastest way to fall into deep, deep trouble.

Y’see, if you borrowed money and didn’t pay it back when you agreed to, the ancients had the attitude that you never did mean to pay it back. You deceived your creditor into giving you money. You committed fraud; that’s a sin. Lv 19.13 You committed theft; that’s a sin. Lv 19.11 You’re a criminal. And what did the ancients do with criminal debtors? Sold ’em into slavery, and their purchase price would pay the debt. What if your own purchase price didn’t cover the debt? Usually they’d sell as many of your family members into slavery as would cover the debt.

In some countries, like the Roman Empire, government officials would frequently buy you. ’Cause the Romans had tons of civic projects to work on. They built impressive stuff, and built it to last; lots of it is still standing. They’d build roads, aqueducts, amphitheaters, harbors, public toilets, public baths; anything they figured might bring Roman civilization to the public. Stuff that’d remind them it was good to live under Roman rule. The crucifixions alongside all the main roads would remind them it wasn’t so good to defy it.

And when I say “they built impressive stuff,” I mean Roman slaves built it. Then at night, they’d lock these slaves in prison lest they run away.

That is the historical background to what Jesus is talking about in this teaching from his Sermon on the Mount—and its parallel teaching in Luke. We know this has to do with debt, ’cause Jesus talks about paying the last quadrans in Matthew, or the last lepton in Luke. These weren’t fines; Romans didn’t bother with fines unless they knew you had money, and prison would never be an issue. The sort of case Jesus is talking about here, are debts.

Matthew 5.25-26 KWL

25“Be reconciled with your opponent quickly

while you’re still on the road to court,

lest they hand you over to the judge,

the judge hand you over to his servant,

and you will be thrown into prison.

26Amen! I promise you:

You’re not coming out of there

till you’ve paid the last quadrans.”

Luke 12.57-59 KWL

57“Why can’t you judge what’s right on your own?

58For while you go with your opponent to the ruler,

while you’re still on the road to court,

make an effort to settle things between you,

lest they drag you before the judge,

the judge hand you over to the bailiff,

and the bailiff will throw you into prison.

59I tell you:

You may never come out of there

till you’ve paid the last lepton.”

In case you were curious: A lepton was the smallest Greek coin, a quadrans was the smallest Roman coin, and Mark says a quadrans was worth two lepta. Mk 12.42 The silver weight of a lepton is worth about 4 cents in present-day USD, meaning the quadrans was worth 8 cents.

The National Day of Prayer.

In the United States, it’s the National Day of Prayer, held the first Thursday of May.

Various articles are gonna say the National Day of Prayer began in 1952. It didn’t really. Congress and various presidents have called for national days of prayer, starting with the first Continental Congress in 1775. They just haven’t been consistent. Ten presidents never bothered to call for any such days.

What did happen in 1952, was Billy Graham held a rally on the steps of the Capitol, which spurred Congress to unanimously pass Public Law 82-324, signed into law by Harry Truman. It says,

Resolved by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, That the President shall set aside and proclaim a suitable day each year, other than a Sunday, as a National Day of Prayer, on which the people of the United States may turn to God in prayer and meditation at churches, in groups, and as individuals.

Truman scheduled the first National Day of Prayer for 4 July 1952, and next year Dwight Eisenhower scheduled it for the same day, 4 July 1953. Then it started moving round the calendar. Mostly it happened Wednesdays in late October. In 1972 there were two.

PRESIDENT	DATES
Harry Truman	4 July 1952
Dwight Eisenhower	4 July 1953 26 October 1955 2 October 1957 7 October 1959	22 September 1954 12 September 1956 2 October 1958 5 October 1960
John Kennedy	4 October 1961 16 October 1963	17 October 1962
Lyndon Johnson	21 October 1964 19 October 1966 16 October 1968	20 October 1965 18 October 1967
Richard Nixon	22 October 1969 20 October 1971 18 October 1972	21 October 1970 16 February 1972 17 October 1973
Gerald Ford	18 December 1974 14 May 1976	24 July 1975
Jimmy Carter	15 December 1977 3 October 1979	7 October 1978 6 October 1980
Ronald Reagan	19 March 1981 5 May 1983 2 May 1985 7 May 1987	6 May 1982 3 May 1984 1 May 1986 5 May 1988

In 1988, Public Law 100-307 fixed it to the first Thursday in May, and that’s what it’s been ever since. (In fact, as I was looking up the dates for the previous National Days of Prayer, my search engine kept insisting it took place the first Thursday of May of that year. Nope. Bad search engine.)

Largely the National Days of Prayer were left up to the presidents until the 1980s. In 1974 the International Congress on World Evangelization was held in Lausanne, Switzerland, and on their return to the States, the American delegation decided to create Mission America to enact some of the plans they’d made in Lausanne. Part of Mission America was the National Prayer Committee, founded in 1979 and headed by Vonette Bright, one of the founders of Campus Crusade for Christ International (now Cru). They met in Washington D.C., started coordinating with the White House about National Day of Prayer events, and held their first joint event in 1983 in Constitution Hall.

What does the event look like? Well, y’know: Speeches from politicians and clergy. Prayers. Sometimes presidents let the National Day of Prayer Task Force take the lead; sometimes not. Sometimes they’re good reminders about the importance of talking with God; sometimes they’re a bunch of platitudes which say little. Some politicians have no prayer life at all, and it shows when they talk about it. (Disturbingly, some clergy members are the very same way.)

But what does this National Day of Prayer thing do? Well, it’s a reminder to pray for our homeland, which is something we oughta be doing regularly. A reminder to pray for our leaders; something we oughta also be doing.

And for Christian nationalists, it’s a not-subtle-at-all way to remind people of the political strength of Christian voters. We are legion, and we vote, so get in line. But I’m not gonna discuss the nationalists today; their godless motives aren’t about prayer anyway.