Name a Church for Fr. John

 

Understanding the Catholic devotion to Mary

05-25-2026

Acts 1:12-14 After Jesus had been taken up to heaven, the Apostles returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a sabbath day’s journey away. When they entered the city they went to the upper room where they were staying, Peter and John and James and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. All these devoted themselves with one accord to prayer, together with some women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers.

Occasionally I give a talk to the OCIA class to describe the differences between Catholics and Protestants. Since the OCIA is full of folks who have largely been raised Protestant and are now interested in Catholicism, I figure they better know what they’re getting into: how deep the water is before they jump into the Catholic swimming pool.  And I use the analogy of $300 trillion.

Don’t get excited. I don’t say Catholics have $300 trillion and Protestants don’t. It’s the other way around. First, I invite them to think about salvation by using a monetary metaphor. All Christians agree that salvation consists of everything Jesus suffered, died, and rose on the third day to give us. Jesus’ crucifixion, death, and resurrection constitute the sum and substance of salvation.

Now, for the sake of my talk, we will call that salvation $300 trillion. Think of $300 trillion as a thought picture, a metaphor, which we substitute for salvation. Now, I suppose some people may prefer the money instead of salvation, but I hope you get my point. Even though all Christians agree on what salvation is – here substitute the $300 trillion – Catholics and Protestants sharply disagree on how we get it.

For most Protestants, you get the whole of salvation – again think $300 trillion – by a sincere act of faith. You accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior, and in that instant you are saved. Or, substituting our monetary metaphor, they receive the whole $300 trillion, without one penny left over. With me, so far? Now, Catholics believe you get that salvation that Jesus died and rose to give us quite differently.

We believe Jesus entrusted salvation – again substitute $300 trillion – to the Church, kind of like a bank. And the Church distributes the graces of salvation little by little. We get some of the $300 trillion when we are baptized, we get more when we attend Mass, and more when we pray before meals, when we help the poor, when we do penance, and make personal sacrifices. That is, we don’t get the whole $300 trillion at once, but rather piecemeal.

Now, if you can wrap your mind around this monetary metaphor of salvation as $300 trillion, you begin to see why Catholics and Protestants see Christianity so differently. For example, Protestants can tell you the day and the hour they were saved. It was the moment they accepted Christ as their personal Lord and Savior. Using our monetary metaphor, that was the moment they won $300 trillion. You would remember the day you won the Chicago lottery!

Catholics, by contrast, have a hard time trying to answer the seemingly simple question, “Have you been saved?” Most Catholics stammer and stutter trying to give a coherent come back. The best answer is: “I’ll tell you the day I die.” Why? Because only at the end of our earthly life will we know whether we have been greedy enough for grace or not.

St. Paul taught the Philippians the same truth, urging them: “Work out your salvation in fear and trembling” (Phil 2:12). In other words, go frequently to the bank, the Church, and withdraw the graces of salvation. But we’re not very greedy for grace. This monetary metaphor also sheds light on the Catholic devotion to the saints and why that makes most Protestant cringe.

Catholics believe the saints were super greedy for grace, so we want to imitate them in that holy desire. St. Peter had, say, $300 million, St. Paul had $350 million, Mother Teresa $100 million, St. John Paul II perhaps $200 million. You and I? We have about 75 cents. But for Protestants saints are not so special. Why not?

Because if they have been saved, they have the whole $300 trillion. If they have not been saved, how much do they have? Zero. In the Protestant universe there are only two kinds of people: those who have been saved, and those who have not been saved; those with $300 trillion in their pockets, and those with nothing in their spiritual pockets.

And that’s why Catholics name churches for saints, like St. Boniface, while Protestants name church “Harvest Time,” or “New Life,” or “Community Bible.” How we name churches is not incidental but reflects a much deeper theology of how to be saved and what it means to be a Christian. And in some respects, the Catholic and Protestant worldviews are radically different and virtually irreconcilable.

Today, we celebrate the Memorial of Mary, Mother of the Church, yet ANOTHER feast in honor of the Blessed Virgin. What is up with these crazy Catholics? Why are they so hung up on Mary? Why do they name churches, and feast days, and their daughters for a peasant girl from Nazareth, who lived 2,000 years ago and whose life was unremarkable in any meaningful respect?

She didn’t build anything; she didn’t write any books or compose great music, she didn’t conquer any countries. So what’s the big deal about Mary? Well, here our monetary metaphor comes to the rescue. Catholics are convinced that in the whole history of the world – and the whole history yet to unfold – only one person ever received the whole $300 trillion of salvation, namely, Mary.

She was rich in the only way that ultimately matters: rich in grace. You and I have about 75 cents. Again, for Protestants, Mary is simply another Christian who has been saved. In other words, Mary has $300 trillion in her pockets, and (if we're saved) we have $300 trillion in our pockets. Mary is simply another saved Christian, no more, no less. So stop making statues of her, or naming churches for her. You might as well name a church for Fr. John.

Praised be Jesus Christ!