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Editor,

We are told that ‘pride goeth before the fall,’ and it’s a saying played out large in Biblical history. The saying, even if not quite accurate, is worth remembering, but the Biblical story of pride, and the sin immediately subsequent to pride, makes such remembrance imperative.

The lesson is first taught in Genesis, with Eve’s succumbing to the temptation. Adam and Eve had only to obey one small rule, and all would be well. God wrote the rule for the good of Adam and Eve, because He loved them. But using the lever of pride, Satan was able to persuade both Adam and Eve to disobey. The consequences of disobedience to that one rule were a disaster, not only for Adam and Eve, but for all of mankind.

The lesson, unfortunately, was not learned very well. The Old Testament repeatedly tells us of the pride-disobedience-punishment connection. In some cases, the kings of Israel succumbed, and many times, it was not only the king who was punished, but also the whole people of Israel. It’s hard to figure out God’s intent in making some of the rules—for example, the rules about cleaning one’s kitchen. All we know with certainty is that God made the rules because he loved Israel. We also know that when rules were broken, there were consequences, not only for those who broke the rules, but often for their subjects as well.

It is not by accident that these stories are written; they show us that kings, just like their subjects, have a responsibility to do what is right in the eyes of God-- to follow the rules--not only for their own personal benefit, but for the well-being of those they rule.

There’s another relationship which is made clear in these Biblical stories, and that is the relationship between parents and rulers. Adam and Eve were parents, and their disobedience had consequences for all their children. In like fashion, kings who disobeyed sometimes passed the consequences to all their subjects. In this way, parenthood is ‘rulership’ and ‘rulership’ is parenthood.

In our own lives, if we are parents, we can draw some conclusions. We make rules. We do not expect our children to know precisely why the rules are made, but we do make them for the good of our children, simply because we love them. Sometimes parents enforce rules made by others with legitimate authority—and we do that despite the fact that we do not know why these rules were made—but we enforce them, nonetheless. We also learn from these stories that we owe to our children our own obedience of the rules, for their good as well as for ours. This is one of the facets of the social contract to which we subscribe as members of particular societies, and it is also a general outline of authority.

Parents and kings share a burden in conscience, then: making certain that their children follow the rules, including those rules made by others with legitimate authority. The rules are written for a reason, even if we cannot discern what that reason may be. Moreover, we too must follow ‘the rules,’ for disobedience has consequences not only for ourselves, but also (possibly) for those who are subject to us.

In the Church, authoritative legislators have written rules which concern the celebration of the Eucharist. Often it is hard for us to discern the “why” of the rules, even if we have extensively studied liturgical practices, history, and theories. But it is not our understanding which matters; it is the understanding of the legislator which matters. The rules are written by legitimate and loving authority; as such, so long as we wish to maintain membership in the particular society of the Church, they are to be followed. Satan will follow his successful formula, of course. He will suggest to us that our study and knowledge makes us superior, and that we can disobey the rules. Disobedience to legitimate authority is bad enough, but worse, should those who choose to disobey the rules be ‘rulers,’ the consequences may also fall on their subjects. This is a burden in conscience which is very significant.

It should also be understood that heresy and disobedience are two sides of the same coin. Each of them begins with pride. In each, someone decides to make their own ‘rules;’ the distinction lies only in whether they are rules of belief or practice. Each is both serious and foolish, and both could well lead to disaster—not only for the individual, but for those whom they rule.

Sincerely,