Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Summorum Pontificum, Athanasius and SSPX

As the world knows our Pope “liberated” the Tradition Latin Mass, or Vetus Ordo (VO: old order) mass in July. This is a significant event for the Church; possibly the most significant event since Pope Paul VI ordered the creation of the Novus Ordo (NO: new order) mass on the heels of the Second Vatican Council. The NO mass was created in a liturgical think-tank in the span of a few years, was spearheaded by Archbishop Bugnini, who some accused of being a Mason, and was promulgated in 1970.

Conspiracy theories (or, maybe not) aside, the NO mass was a radical break from nearly 2,000 years of Catholic tradition. The VO mass is an organically developed liturgy from the time of the Apostles, and has highly developed forms and linguistically beautiful prayers to show its development through the centuries; the NO mass was a novelty created by a man known to hate, or at least disregard, tradition, and has since been the catalyst for novelties which would have horrified most Catholics prior to Vatican II (and still horrify many after).

Now comes word that the Vatican may lift the “excommunications” vs. the Bishops of the Society of Saint Pius X (SSPX). Most canon lawyers and major thinkers in the Church do not think those excommunications are of the same degree or substance as most, since the SSPX has, in fact, not denied any dogma or doctrine of the Church. In fact, it was Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre’s intention to uphold the tradition, dogmas and doctrines of the Church which led him to consecrate the four Bishops, now “excommunicated” (because they were done without papal mandate). Many believe the “excommunications” are void (or voidable), null, or otherwise invalid considering the extreme emergency the Church has been going through since Vatican II. That is a point I don’t intend to discuss here, but for a general outline of the very real emergency in the Church, a good book is “The Great Facade” by Thomas E. Woods Jr. (now a mainstream writer) and Christopher Ferrera (a lawyer by trade), both of whom are faithful to Pope Benedict XVI. Written some years ago, this book outlines the extreme, universal abuses going on in the Church, the world over, and the causes thereof. In fact, this book is a treatise that, indeed, our Church is in one of the greatest crisis in Her 2,000 year history (a crisis almost imperceptible in these modernistic times, since the modernist, by definition, thinks everything is peachy keen in the world).

Which leads me to the two booklets I would like to briefly discuss: “The Eternal Sacrifice” and “Saint Athanasius; Defender of the Faith,” both by the eminent liturgist and historian, Michael Davies (Requiescat in pace), who hailed from the United Kingdom.

It’s useful to know that Pope Benedict XVI, as Cardinal Ratzinger, had great respect for Michael Davies, and spoke of losing a good son of the Church at his death; the Pope and Davies were known before Davies’ death to be on very friendly terms.

I’m not going to belabor that point, except to say it is quite percipient as to the current Pope’s mind on these things.

In his preface to “Saint Athanasius,” Davies directly implies that his reason for writing this book was to compare the situation of St. Athanasius (who was excommunicated by a Pope) with that of Lefebvre: “‘What happened over 1600 years ago is repeating itself today, but with two or three differences: Alexandria is today the whole Universal Church the stability of which is being shaken, and what was undertaken at that time by means of physical force and cruelty is now being transferred to a different level. Exile is replaced by banishment into the silence of being ignored, killing by assassination of character.’…The most evident parallel elicited in the book is that between the role played by St. Athanasius in the fourth century and that of Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre in the decades following the Second Vatican Council. It must be made clear that at no time did the Archbishop ever compare himself to St. Athanasius….” “Saint Athanasius” (Foreword, 21 March 1994, 1995, Angelus Press, citation omitted.) Indeed, St. Athanasius was banished multiple times, excommunicated by two councils (and the excommunication was ratified by Pope Liberius), and he is now one of the greatest Saints of the Church. Of that time, Athanasius writes, “The whole world groaned and was amazed to find itself Arain [the heretical belief that the Son is not co-eternal with the Father.]” Id. pg. 30. St. Athanasius wrote, “Our churches are taken from us and given to the Arians; they have our places, but with have the faith. They cannot rob us of that.” Id. pg. 20.

Obviously the differences between the modernist of today and the Arian of the fourth century are different in form. But in inherent content, the comparisons are similar: In the fourth century almost every believer in the Christian world believed in a heresy because of Arianism. Today, almost the entire Christian world believes in the heresy of all heresies: modernism: The relativistic notion that all truths [sic] lead to, or are co-equal with, the one Truth. It is syncretism and relativism wrapped all into one. And it is the direct result of Vatican II (or the Spirit thereof) and it manifests itself in joint-prayer services, Assisi I and II, and in most (or all?) of the dioceses throughout the world, which welcome, hold-hands with, and otherwise placate other faith traditions as co-equal with Catholicism; whereas in the past, through charity, we respected other faiths, and other people, but, ultimately prayed for them, and asked them in to the Catholic Faith, which is the only, sure, way to heaven. Christ is the only door to heaven (adherents in other faiths may be saved, St. Thomas Aquinas tells us, but only through the Baptism of desire, which is, arguably, a near impossibility in this day and age, where nearly everyone has heard of and knows of Christ, and few take advantage of the Sacraments, which were instituted by Christ for a reason, and not in a vacuum.)

The second book is “The Eternal Sacrifice,” which I would like to add as a contrast to the de facto heresy which exists throughout the world in denying the transubstantiation of the Eucharist: The Truth that Christ—God—is truly present in every particle of the Eucharist. It would take a thousand pages herein to outline all of the abuses to the Eucharist since Vatican II; suffice it to say, that since VII the Eucharist is passed-around by disinterested “Eucharistic ministers” to disinterested lay people who could care less about Christ truly present in the Eucharist. Today, only 25% of the 25% of Catholics who still go to mass believe in this central mystery of our Faith. This is significant, and is a direct result of the reforms during and after VII which watered-down our faith.

“‘When Christ on the Cross cried out His Consummatum est, few were the men who noticed it, fewer still the men who perceived that this phrase announced a turning point for mankind, that this death opened into everlasting life gates through which, from that moment on, all the people of the earth would pass. Now, to meet the expectant longing of mankind, this great event is arrested and, through Christ’s institution [of the mass] held fast for these coming generations so that they might be conscious witnesses of that event event in the last centuries and amongst the remotest nations, and might look up to it in holy rapture.’…[t]he Catholic Church has meaning and significance only in so far as it is directed towards God. It is equally true that it has meaning and significance only in so far as it is considered as an exercise of the priesty office of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Our Lord’s priestly office on earth did not come to an end when He ascended into heaven. He perpetuates it in His Mystical Body, the Church, which, in its innermost reality, is an extension of the Incarnation throughout the nations and the centuries. Our Lord is present among us today in His Church, teaching, ruling, and sanctifying us. Priests who have received their orders in direct succession from the Apostles offer the Mass in Christ’s name and in His person, in persona Christi. Our Lord Himself is the true High Priest of every Mass, the priest at the altar acts only as His instrument. In the traditional Mass of the Roman Rite, now commonly known as the Tridentine Mass, this sublime truth is symbolized fittingly by the manner in which the priest subordinates himself to the awe inspiring holiness and majesty of the rite which he is celebrating, the rite which Father Faber described as the most beautiful thing this side of heaven.’ A prayer in the liturgy of St. John Chrysostom evokes the profound truth that: ‘It is really Thou Who dost offer and art offered, Thou Who dost receive the offering and art given back to us, Christ our God.’ The Sacrifice of the Mass is truly the Sacrifice of Calvary made present among us, a sacrifice at which we should dare to be present only in a spirit of the utmost reverence and most abject humility, conscious of our unworthiness in the presence of the all holy God. ‘Quam terribilis est haec hora!’ cries out the deacon in the Syrian liturgy. ‘How awesome is this hour!’ Awesome it is indeed when our Savior and our God is present among us as preist and victim.” (Michael Davies, The Eternal Sacrifice, Newman Press, 1987, pages.13-14, citation omitted.)

“God is our Creator, we are His creatures. Without Him we would not exist, without Him we would not have that hope of everlasting happiness in heaven which alone enable us to endure the suffering and sorrow of our exile in this valley of tears. We owe God everything, and He owes us nothing. Those who are created have a duty to love and serve their Creator…’Who is like God?’ These are the words which should be at the forefront of the mind of every Catholic. The answer, of course, is that no one is like God. He is infinite, and we are finite. Between infinite and finite there can be no comparison. We must, therefore, as the Catechism teaches us, devote our lives to knowing, loving and serving God in this world so that we can be happy with Him forever in the next. This is our duty as His creatures.
The Commandments of God enjoin a solemn obligation of sanctifying the Sabbath by rendering Our Heavenly Father worthy and reverent public worship. The only adequate expression of our absolute submission to almighty God is the offering of the sacrifice. ….
The essence of sacrifice lies in the offering of a victim to God on behalf of the people by their publicly appointed representative…The most significant moment of Jewish sacrifice was the pouring of the blood of the victim upon the altar. The altar of sacrifice in the Jewish Temple represented God, just as the Christian altar represents Our Lord Jesus Christ Himself. The blood of the victim was said to contain its life, and when poured upon the altar it had been returned to God in Whom that life originated.
The Christian religion has only one sacrifice, the sacrifice that was once offered when Our Lord Jesus Christ, acting both as priest and victim, shed His Blood for us upon the Cross. Every type and every purpose of Old Testament sacrifice was fulfilled to perfection on Calvary. Holocaust, peace offering, sin offering were all merely types, shadows, figures of that one perfect sacrifice on the first Good Friday when God the Son made Man reconciled all tings unto Himself, ‘making peace through the Blood of His Cross, both as to the things that are on earth and the things that are in heaven’ (Col. 1:20).”

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

"On the Theology of Death"

I found the essay, “On the Theology of Death” by Karl Rahner at a garage sale last weekend, where it was given to me, gratis. I couldn’t resist the title, even though Rahner—though admittedly a brilliant theologian—was a peritas at Vatican II (that confusing but valid, non-dogmatic council of policies; instead of formulating doctrine and house-cleaning, as most councils are intended to do, VII opened the Church’s windows and invited the world to dirty the house some more). Rahner is a golden-boy of the Catholic left. He was admonished by the Vatican to quit advocating for interfaith services. So, I entered this book with some trepidation, even though the title was alluring enough for me, and, as an ex-firefighter, who used to deal with death on a daily basis, I felt compelled to read it.

At the outset, before looking at this book, let’s make very plain the concept of death, since many in our culture seem to forget about its true reality. We live in a materialistic age where matter becomes more significant to the average person than the maker. We all fancy nice cars and i-phones, even while the average person in the world lives in abject poverty. Christ said, “blessed are the poor.” Last Sunday’s reading was on-point, Luke 12: 16 – 21:

The land of a certain rich man brought forth plenty of fruits. 17 And he thought within himself, saying: What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow my fruits? 18 And he said: This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and will build greater; and into them will I gather all things that are grown to me, and my goods. 19 And I will say to my soul: Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years take thy rest; eat, drink, make good cheer. 20 But God said to him: Thou fool, this night do they require thy soul of thee: and whose shall those things be which thou hast provided?

If any of us love this life, we will “lose it.”

In the context of the modern world, man forgets about his final end. Let’s realign ourselves: Everyone reading this shall die. We all will end in the grave; our bodies will corrupt until they become bones or dust, until the general resurrection at the end of time, which is a dogma of our faith. Your soul will leave your body, our God will draw your soul. Your body will corrupt. Your skin will “leather”, your eyes will shrink, first into pea pods, but then they will crumble. Your hair will matte, and begin to fall out, until all falls away. Your skeleton will remain for a time longer, as it is of stronger substance, but it too will crumble and fall away. Only your soul will live on, and that is for eternity. Eternity is a long, long time. Imagine all of the particles of sand on all of the sea shores on earth, trillions of pieces of sand, to say the least, and pretend that each piece of sand equals a billion years, and pretend that you spend this amount of time in eternity. That, of course, does not equal even one day of your life in eternity; not even one second of eternity’s time, but of course God is outside of time.

I am not illustrating anything new here--even a child can understand that point—but meditating upon this is beneficial in the context of situating our souls to face eternity. Death is the beginning of our eternity either in union or separated from God.

Like I said, I approached Rahner’s essay with great caution. Although Rahner flirts with the heterodox notion that God might have saved humanity in a perfectly non-violent, unbloody, manner, he nevertheless comes to the Orthodox conclusion that Christ’s bloody Sacrifice was not only salvific, but that God could not have saved us by any other means:

“His life redeems, inasmuch as his death is axiologically present in his entire life. And in so far as any moral act of man is to be considered as a disposing over his entire person with regard to his interior destiny, and in so far as such a disposition receives its final character only in death, it is clear (on the supposition that Christ assumed the flesh of sin and death) that we cannot really say that Christ could have redeemed us through any other moral act than his death, even had God been disposed to accept some other act.” (Herder, New York, 1961, pg. 63.)

Rahner is a notoriously hard read, and you can almost see him strain to say the words, but he did: even God, according to Rahner, could not have saved us through any other means then through the death of Christ, His Son, the Second Person of the Trinity. Some Christians tend to meditate exclusively on Christ risen (even some Bishops do this). It’s much “cleaner” to think of Christ this way. It’s more happy-clappy, feel-good. They think of Christ’s earthly ministry, His miracles, and on the periphery acknowledge that Christ’s blood washes away our sins. But, strangely, they steer from the Passion Narratives in the Bible, even though this is the summit, the apex of why Christ came among us. We don’t like to think of bloody death, but Christ and the martyrs teach us otherwise. Even Rahner dedicates the last forty pages or so of his essay to the Christian martyrs, because they were the perfect embodiment of what it means to be Christian: giving up one’s life on earth in a Christ-like sacrifice:

“[A] martyr is one who freely accepting his death in faith, is killed by powers inimical to Christ, and bears a noble testimony as a ‘witness’ to faith in Jesus Christ…Martyrdom has to do with death. In order to understand martyrdom, death must be understood. And so the mystery of death enters into martyrdom, and makes martyrdom itself a mystery. One only dares approach the subject of death hesitantly. For the hidden incomprehensibility of death is also concealed from the average everyday mind, by the fact that death happens daily, and the dullard thinks that what happens every day must be understandable.” (pg. 82-83).

But the average Christian must, too, die in Christ to attain everlasting life. Every action that we make has everlasting impart:

“But the affirmation of faith concerning the definitive ending by death of the state of pilgrimage means, as well as the survival of man’s conscious personal existence, that the fundamental moral decision made by man in the mundane temporality of his bodily existence, is rendered definite and final by death. This doctrine of the faith involves taking this earthly life with radical seriousness. It is truly historical, this is, unique, unrepeatable, of inalienable and irrevocable significance.” (pt. 27.)

Rahner doesn’t shrink from the concept of original sin; what else explains the often absurd dimension of sin and suffering on earth?

“[D]eath is a visible expression of the disharmony between God and man in man’s very being which supervened at the beginning of his spiritual and moral history. Because man has lost the divine life in union with God by grace, his earthly existence also disintegrates. Man’s subjection to death is the manifestation of his disharmony with God.” (pg. 34).

“The end of man, considered only from man’s point of view, presents an inseparable and irreducible unity an ontologically dialectical opposition of elements…with no assurance that it [death] will strike him at the moment in which interiorly he has completed his life. Death is a blow of fate, a thief in the night, an emptying and reducing of man to powerlessness, in fact, the end.” (pg. 40).

“It [death] will always, therefore, include the character of a divine judgment among its notes. But it is sin that is manifested in death. The emptiness, hopelessness, the transitoriness, indeterminateness, the inextricable confusion of noblest action and most humiliating passivity, of plain meaning and ultimate ambiguity, all these characteristics of the death which we must actually die are nothing but the manifestations of sin, to which in some higher and hidden dimension these characteristics analogically belong. Because a creature belonging to God, it shrinks back, by a movement of its very essence, from this last mystery of emptiness, of finality, of nothingness, form the mystery of iniquity. Because this same creature, whether holy or sinful, is driven as long as he lives by the power of the divine life which calls him and works in him, he will always experience a mysterious horror of death, which can never be explained by himself, or from what he can observe in himself. In this horror of death, there emerges on the visible surface of human life, the horror of that death which alone is true death. If men try effectively to hide the reality of this horror from themselves by explaining it away by their manner of life, by taking refuge either in frivolity, despair or tragic heroism, then by this very act they make of it what they will not admit terrifies him in it, the beginning of eternal death. Death and man’s attitude towards it, which of course is really part of its very nature, is not abolished or extinguished by is permanently transformed only when in the light and power of Jesus Christ who died and rose again, it is seen and borne as what is can be, the darkness of that night of the Cross in which eternal life penetrated in death the very depths of the world, in order to give life to the world.” (pg. 55).

The Bible is full of passages concerning death, and the Christian’s relation to it. (Cf. Rom 1:32; 7:9-10; 6:16, 21, 23; 7:5; 8:2; James 1:15 and much of St. John, etc.) But it’s Christ’s death, and dying in Christ, which is the refuge, the final hope of the Christian:

“A Christian in the state of grace dies a different death from that of the sinner…the Council of Trent…states…that the death of the Christian in the state of grace no longer has the mark of a punishment for sin, but, like concupiscence in the justified man, has the character of a mere consequence of sin (poenalitas sed non poena)” (pg. 67).

To die in a state of grace we must frequent the Bread of Life. In John 6:54-59 Christ tells us:

Jesus said to them: Amen, amen I say unto you: Except you eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you. 55 He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath everlasting life: and I will raise him up in the last day. 56 For my flesh is meat indeed: and my blood is drink indeed. 57 He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, abideth in me, and I in him. 58 As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the Father; so he that eateth me, the same also shall live by me. 59 This is the bread that came down from heaven. Not as your fathers did eat manna, and are dead. He that eateth this bread, shall live for ever.

St. Paul writes in 1 Cor. 24-26:

24 And giving thanks, broke, and said: Take ye, and eat: this is my body, which shall be delivered for you: this do for the commemoration of me. 25 In like manner also the chalice, after he had supped, saying: This chalice is the new testament in my blood: this do ye, as often as you shall drink, for the commemoration of me.
26 For as often as you shall eat this bread, and drink the chalice, you shall shew the death of the Lord, until he come.

This is why the traditional Latin Mass is so important, and has been the source and training-ground of so many Catholic Saints. In it, we “shew the death of the Lord.”

Rahner writes:

“The second sacrament which repeatedly and visibly reveals and deepens this companionship in suffering and death with our Lord, by grace throughout the whole course of the Christian life, is the sacred mystery of the Eucharist. This is the continuously renewed celebration of the death of the Lord, making that death present here and now in our lives. In the Eucharist, according to his command, we announce his death, which is our death and our life, again and again until he comes once more and it is no longer revealed in ritual sign but in the radiance of his visibly manifested glory, that in his death our death is swallowed up by the victory of life. What is done in this mystery is the sacramental enactment of Christ’s death, and what we receive in this mystery is the grace which became ours, n his death…In this sacrifice and sacrament, not only is the mystery of the Cross brought near to us in a spatio-temporal relation, but it actually produces its effect on our own lives, drawing us into itself, subjecting us to its own unfathomable laws and communicating its strength to us. Of necessity, therefore, anyone who takes part in this mystery in divine worship, announcing in it the death of the Lord, must also announce this death in his own life, by experiencing it in himself in the reality of his life…For we must consider as the effect of this sacrament all that Scripture means by our communion in the passion and death of Christ: that we must suffer with him, in order to be glorified with him (Rom 8:17; that though participation in his passion we are conformed to his death (Phil 3:10); that he has to be glorified in our bodies in life and in death (Phil 1:20); that for Christ’s sake we are constantly delivered into the power of death (2 Cor 4:10f.); that with him who was crucified in infirmity, we also are weak (2 Cor 13:4); that it is a grace, not only to believe in Christ, but also to suffer for him (Phil 1:29; that only if we have died with him shall we live with him (2 Tim 2:11). We share his death because we daily celebrate and receive the sacrament of his death.” (Pg. 76-77)

I will end by quoting that beautiful passage in the Bible of the raising of the twelve year old daughter of Jairus Luke 8:41-55:

41 And behold there came a man whose name was Jairus, and he was a ruler of the synagogue: and he fell down at the feet of Jesus, beseeching him that he would come into his house: 42 For he had an only daughter, almost twelve years old, and she was dying. And it happened as he went, that he was thronged by the multitudes.
49 As he was yet speaking, there cometh one to the ruler of the synagogue, saying to him: Thy daughter is dead, trouble him not. 50 And Jesus hearing this word, answered the father of the maid: Fear not; believe only, and she shall be safe.
51 And when he was come to the house, he suffered not any man to go in with him, but Peter and James and John, and the father and mother of the maiden. 52 And all wept and mourned for her. But he said: Weep not; the maid is not dead, but sleepeth. 53 And they laughed him to scorn, knowing that she was dead. 54 But he taking her by the hand, cried out, saying: Maid, arise. 55 And her spirit returned, and she arose immediately. And he bid them give her to eat.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

"The Eucharist makes the Church"

When we look at the great Cathedrals in Europe, they were built to give glory to God. The highest expression of glorifying God is through the unbloody Sacrifice of the Mass. In a very real sense, then, the Cathedrals of Europe were built to house the Latin Mass, and Gregorian Chant. Today, they are all too often tourist attractions and living history museums, which perhaps is the only thing keeping them open, funded and maintained. Mass attendance in Europe hovers at around eight percent of the population even in such purportedly "Catholic" countries as France. Instead of maintaining tradition, and nurturing the ancient, beautiful Sacrifice of the Tridentine Mass (which itself was a mere codification of the mass dating back to the time of St. Gregory the Great), which would certainly increase mass attendance, many Bishops want to trivialize even the great Cathedrals. I was in Notre Dame Cathedral a few months ago. There was a giant projection screen over the altar, draped in such a way as to make it look like a giant sail. On it were projected words. The overall effect was one of banality, and trying to be "cool", "hip", even "avant garde." When will some Bishops get a clue? People want to be transported out of the banal, media-saturated world when they go to mass, not back into it.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

On Malta

Malta is the most conservative Catholic country in the European Union. It has the highest number of citizens who attend mass of any country in the European Union. Catholicism is it's official state religion. Abortion is illegal in all circumstances. Many people in the general population still venerate Our Lady in processions. Catholic schools are still sponsored and funded by the state. Malta, standing as it does between Europe and Muslim countries across the sea to its south, has withstood the onslaught of Muslim armies as recently as the sixteenth centuries. She withstood the fascists in Italy and Germans during the Second World War. President Franklin Roosevelt, describing this situation, called Malta "one tiny bright flame in the darkness." She expelled the Revolutionary French who invaded her because the Maltese considered them ungoldly. She welcomed the British in the nineteenth century, but asked them to leave in the twentieth, which they did. Today most Maltese speak English. But Malta remains first and foremost a Country devoted to Our Lady and Christ Truly Present in the Eucharist. No wonder there are forces biting at the bit to destroy her culture.

Perhaps Saint Paul is praying for Malta still for the courtesy she showed him during the three months that he was on the Island after he was shipwrecked there; Acts 27: 41-44 to 28: 1-11:

41 And when we were fallen into a place where two seas met, they run the ship aground; and the forepart indeed, sticking fast, remained unmoveable: but the hinder part was broken with the violence of the sea. 42 And the soldiers' counsel was, that they should kill the prisoners, lest any of them, swimming out, should escape. 43 But the centurion, willing to save Paul, forbade it to be done; and he commanded that they who could swim, should cast themselves first into the sea, and save themselves, and get to land. 44 And the rest, some they carried on boards, and some on those things that belonged to the ship. And so it came to pass, that every soul got safe to land.

1 And when we had escaped, then we knew that the island was called Melita. But the barbarians shewed us no small courtesy. 2 For kindling a fire, they refreshed us all, because of the present rain, and of the cold. 3 And when Paul had gathered together a bundle of sticks, and had laid them on the fire, a viper coming out of the heat, fastened on his hand. 4 And when the barbarians saw the beast hanging on his hand, they said one to another: Undoubtedly this man is a murderer, who though he hath escaped the sea, yet vengeance doth not suffer him to live. 5 And he indeed shaking off the beast into the fire, suffered no harm.
6 But they supposed that he would begin to swell up, and that he would suddenly fall down and die. But expecting long, and seeing that there came no harm to him, changing their minds, they said, that he was a god. 7 Now in these places were possessions of the chief man of the island, named Publius, who receiving us, for three days entertained us courteously. 8 And it happened that the father of Publius lay sick of a fever, and of a bloody flux. To whom Paul entered in; and when he had prayed, and laid his hands on him, he healed him. 9 Which being done, all that had diseases in the island, came and were healed: 10 Who also honoured us with many honours, and when we were to set sail, they laded us with such things as were necessary.
11 And after three months, we sailed in a ship of Alexandria, that had wintered in the island, whose sign was the Castors.