Question Corner

Feb. 13, 2026
By: Jenna Marie Cooper

Q: I've read a lot recently about how the Society of St. Pius X (SSPX) is planning to ordain new bishops this summer, with or without the pope's permission. Why is this such a problem, if the SSPX are all validly ordained anyways?

A: The quick, big-picture short answer is that the SSPX’s proposed episcopal ordinations are a problem because ordaining new bishops without the permission of the pope (technically called a “mandate”) is gravely injurious to Christian unity.

It is true that a truly ordained bishop has the power, by virtue of his ordination, to confer the sacrament of holy orders on other men. This includes the power to ordain lay men as deacons, deacons as priests and priests as bishops. So, if a bishop attempted to ordain a priest as a bishop without a pontifical mandate, the sacrament would still “work” and would result in a new and real bishop.

However, while such an ordination would be valid, it would be illicit – that is, against the law – and gravely so. In fact, canon law applies one of its most severe penalties for those directly involved with the ordination of a new bishop without a mandate from the pope.

As per Canon 1387 of the Code of Canon Law, both the ordaining bishop and the new bishop who received the illicit ordination from him “incur a latae sententiae excommunication reserved to the Apostolic See.” This means that both men are excommunicated automatically as soon as the mandate-less ordination takes place, and their excommunication can only be “lifted” or reversed by the authority of the pope.

The reason why canon law comes down so hard on this particular crime is because ordaining a bishop without the mandate of the pope, and especially if this happens against the pope’s express wishes, is strongly connected to the sin, and more foundational crime, of schism.

Canon 751 defines schism as “the withdrawal of submission to the Supreme Pontiff or from communion with the members of the Church subject to him.” A Catholic can be schismatic on an individual level, such as if a lay Catholic personally decides they will no longer obey the pope or follow the laws of the Catholic Church.

But the negative effects of schism are multiplied exponentially when a bishop ordains new bishops totally on his own initiative, since this has the potential to create a sort of “parallel church,” by which large numbers of the Catholic faithful might be drawn out of communion with the legitimate successor of St. Peter and the visible Church which Christ himself founded.

For background on this particular situation, the SSPX, or the Society of St. Pius X, was founded by Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre in 1970, in response to what he saw as the overly modernizing influence of the Second Vatican Council. Originally, the society was founded in the proper canonical way as a “pious union,” at the time the first step toward becoming a recognized religious community.
OSV NEWS PHOTO | DENIS BALIBOUSE, REUTERS
Bishop Bernard Fellay, then-superior of the traditionalist Society of St. Pius X, is pictured in a file photo ordaining a priest during a ceremony in Econe, Switzerland.
But then in 1988, frustrated by Rome’s lack of support for his work, Archbishop Lefebvre consecrated four new bishops against the explicit warnings of the Holy See. In his July 2, 1988, apostolic letter “Ecclesiae Dei,” Pope St. John Paul II recognized this as a “schismatic act” and formally declared that the bishops involved were excommunicated.

Over the years, popes since St. John Paul II have made efforts to reconcile the SSPX to full communion with the Church. For instance, in January 2009 Pope Benedict XVI lifted the automatic excommunication of the surviving affected bishops as an act of mercy and pastoral concern; and at various points in Pope Francis’ papacy the SSPX were granted the wider ability to celebrate the sacraments in some circumstances.

If the SSPX were to go forward with the ordination of new bishops without a papal mandate, this would likely re-set the state of their dialogue with Rome to where it was in 1988.

Feb. 6, 2026
By: Jenna Marie Cooper

Q: Why are there so many different kinds of convents out there? I don't understand why a young woman who feels called to give her life to God would need that many choices. (Ohio)

A: The short answer to the question of why there are such a variety of convents out there is: You would have to ask God!

But looking at this question on a more fundamental level, we believe God gives us the kinds of consecrated life we need for the good of all the people of God.

The Church teaches that religious life – and really, all of consecrated life (the umbrella category that encompasses “religious life,” strictly speaking) – is based around the concept of “charism.”

“Charism” is a Greek word often translated as “gift.” In our current Catholic terminology, a “charism” is a spiritual gift from God meant to benefit the wider Christian community. (For a scriptural example, see Rom 12:6-8)

In the specific theological context of Catholic consecrated life, a “charism” is an inspiration or spiritual gift from God that informs a whole way of life centered on following Christ more radically in the spirit of the Gospels.

For example, St. Francis of Assisi was given the charism of imitating Christ more closely through a love of holy poverty. In the religious order he founded, Franciscan friars, nuns and religious sisters share in the same “gifted” spirituality that was given to their founder.

Throughout the Church’s history, God has granted charisms of consecrated life to different members of the faithful to meet the needs of the Church that arose over the course of centuries.

For example, at the very beginning of the Church we had women who renounced marriage in order to dedicate themselves entirely to the Lord as consecrated virgins, with a charism of living as “brides of Christ.” This radical, spousal love of God often expressed itself in martyrdom in the Church’s first few centuries, and through their witness many people were convinced of the truths of the faith.

OSV NEWS PHOTO | BOB ROLLER
Nuns pray during morning Mass at Lucas Oil Stadium
July 18, 2024, during the National Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis.Later, when the Church was no longer suffering from violent persecution at the hands of the Roman emperor, men and women longing to bear a similar witness as the early martyrs freely embraced a life of prayer and penance, often in solitude in the desert, as a “bloodless” or “white” martyrdom. They became the first hermits.

In late antiquity, as Roman civil society was collapsing, St. Benedict wrote a “rule of life” for monks living in community. This was the beginning of the Order of St. Benedict, which founded monasteries that served as islands of peace and stability in a chaotic world – and which we can largely thank for the preservation of our western intellectual cultural heritage.

During the later Middle Ages, at the height of “Christendom” when the Church was a major influence in Europe and beyond, many Church leaders grew lax in their spiritual lives.

This was the point in history when God inspired saints such as St. Francis and St. Dominic to found new religious orders dedicated to rekindling the fire of the faith in Christian hearts that had grown cold. Similarly, in the Counter-Reformation era of the 16th century, orders such as the Jesuits and Discalced Carmelites came about in part as an “answer” to some of the objections of the Protestant leaders of the day.

In early modern times, various social needs inspired founders to establish active apostolic communities dedicated to works of charity. For example, St. John Bosco founded the Salesians to care for youth, and St. Jeanne Jugan started the Little Sisters of the Poor to care for the impoverished elderly.

In the 20th century, the Church established secular institutes as a new form of consecrated life dedicated to evangelizing secular society from within as a “leaven in the world.” Going forward, the Lord may very well give us new charisms, although this never negates the older ones.

Jan. 30, 2026
By: Jenna Marie Cooper

Q: The Anglican church is elevating its first woman to the role of archbishop of Canterbury, the chief diocese of the Church of England. Theologically, do we as Catholics see this as a problem?
A: I think the answer here could be either “yes” or “no,” depending on how we approach the question. Of course, for Catholics it would be a problem if someone were to propose that the Catholic Church should ordain women as bishops, since this goes against our well-established doctrine on the nature and purpose of the sacrament of holy orders.

As St. John Paul II recounted in his 1994 apostolic letter “Ordinatio Sacerdotalis,” on reserving priestly ordination to men alone: “When the question of the ordination of women arose in the Anglican Communion, Pope Paul VI, out of fidelity to his office of safeguarding the Apostolic Tradition, and also with a view to removing a new obstacle placed in the way of Christian unity, reminded Anglicans of the position of the Catholic Church: ‘She (the Catholic Church) holds that it is not admissible to ordain women to the priesthood, for very fundamental reasons. These reasons include: the example recorded in the Sacred Scriptures of Christ choosing his Apostles only from among men; the constant practice of the Church, which has imitated Christ in choosing only men; and her living teaching authority which has consistently held that the exclusion of women from the priesthood is in accordance with God’s plan for his Church.’”

Extending this into a more big-picture point of view, the Catholic Church would disagree with any Christian theology in support of women’s ordination, since it undermines the concept of “apostolic succession.” Apostolic succession refers to our teaching that every bishop – along with the priests who participate in their bishops’ pastoral ministry – was ordained by an older bishop who was in turn ordained by a bishop himself, forming an unbroken chain through which the power to administer the sacraments was “handed down” from the original Twelve Apostles.

But along these lines, a female archbishop of Canterbury would not be a new or especially pressing problem for us, since branches of the Anglican Communion have already had “ordained” women, including women bishops, since the late 20th century. And furthermore, the Catholic Church believes that there have not been valid Anglican ordinations at all since shortly after the Reformation era.

Historically, the Church of England (the original church of the Anglican Communion, which includes branches such as the Church of Ireland and the Episcopal Church in the United States) began in 1534 when, for political reasons, King Henry VIII decided that the church in his country should be independent of the Holy Father in Rome. And so at the beginning, all the bishops of the Church of England had been validly ordained Catholic bishops.

OSV NEWS PHOTO | TOBY MELVILLE, REUTERS
Bishop Sarah Mullally of London smiles as she gives an address inside Canterbury Cathedral in England Oct. 3, 2025, after being appointed as the Anglican Church’s new archbishop of Canterbury, the first woman to hold the role in its 1,400 year history.

But as Pope Leo XIII observed in his 1896 apostolic letter “Apostolicae Curae” (“On the Nullity of Anglican Orders”), during the reign of King Edward VI, the son of Henry VIII, a new ordination ritual for the Church of England was created. The wording of this new ritual departed from our traditional Catholic sacramental understanding of the priesthood. Thus, Leo XIII clarified that Anglican ordinations since that time are “absolutely null and utterly void.”
Because of this, Catholics see Anglican priests and bishops as being more like Protestant ministers, who can lead services and teach the faith in a non-sacramental sense, and less like Orthodox priests who, while separated from full communion with the Catholic Church, are nevertheless still ordained with apostolic succession and can therefore celebrate valid sacraments.

Insofar as some Anglicans might indeed see themselves as “ministers” rather than sacramental “priests,” in a certain sense we might even “agree” with them about a female archbishop of Canterbury, since the Catholic Church has always acknowledged that women are capable of non-sacramental teaching and leadership.

Yet as St. Paul VI was aware even in the 1970s, the ordination of women in the Anglican Communion does present an additional obstacle to Christian unity, and this by itself will always be a problem.

Jan. 23, 2026
By: Jenna Marie Cooper

Q: I am a 14-year-old boy, and growing up I learned to serve the Mass. At first I never served with girls (my old church did not allow it). They stated that serving was a gateway to the priesthood and since girls cannot be priests they should not be servers. Recently I started serving at two new churches. The first is a quite large church that allows female servers. The second church is a traditional Latin Mass church - this church has zero girl servers. The Latin Mass church takes the view that most servers will at least try to be priests so no girls should serve. Just because girl servers were traditionally banned, does that mean that we should not have them? Are they allowed? Should they be? I asked my local priests about this but it being such a controversial topic I could not get a solid answer.

A: The short answer is that yes, female altar servers are officially allowed in the Church today.

It is true that prior to the late 20th century girls and women were not permitted to be altar servers in the way we currently understand this role, although I’m not sure saying women were totally “banned” is the most accurate way to phrase this.

For instance, one of the jobs of pre-Vatican II altar boys was to make the Latin responses at Mass. But back in our grandparents’ day, it wasn’t unheard of for trained girls to “assist at Mass outside the rail,” meaning that they prayed the Latin responses while kneeling at the altar rail, even if they didn’t actually enter the sanctuary or handle the sacred books and vessels during Mass.

I think historically, the connection between altar serving and priesthood and thus masculinity came about because “acolyte” (a technical canonical term for altar serving) was one of the four “minor orders” – along with that of porter, lector and exorcist – that a seminarian would receive as part of his progress towards the priesthood. After Vatican II, St. Paul VI did away with “minor orders” as such, although echoes of them remained in the practice of instituting seminarians into the ministries of lector and acolyte.

“Instituting” someone into the ministry of lector or acolyte means to establish them in this role in a more stable, permanent and ongoing way. This is different from how most parish lectors and altar servers serve on what is technically an “as needed” basis.

Perhaps as a reflection of the role these instituted ministries have in priestly formation, the current Code of Canon Law, which was published and took effect in 1983, explicitly allowed lay men to be instituted as lectors and acolytes in Canon 230, 1 as it was originally written. However, the code was silent on the subject of women serving at the altar as non-instituted acolytes, and in 1994 St. John Paul II stated that girls and women could fulfill this role.

So, practically speaking, “altar girls” have been specifically allowed since 1994. There was a further clarification regarding the background theology of this in 2021, when Pope Francis issued the “motu proprio” letter “Spiritus Domini,” changing the text of canon 230 to allow lay persons of either gender to be formally instituted in the roles of lector and acolyte.
OSV NEWS PHOTO | GREGORY A. SHEMITZ
Altar server Shaniah Chavez holds a candle as she participates in the opening procession during the Easter Vigil at St. John the Evangelist Church in Center Moriches, N.Y., April 8, 2023.
“Spiritus Domini” was especially interesting to theologians and canon lawyers since it specified that participation in these ministries was rooted in baptism, meaning they are therefore applicable to male and female members of the faithful equally, as opposed to being fundamentally an anticipation of holy orders, which would have made them properly male.

The question of whether or not women and girls “should” be altar servers is a different question, one where different people will naturally have different opinions. Some might point out the pastoral benefits of an all-boys altar server team in promoting priestly vocations, while others might appreciate how allowing female altar servers emphasizes our common baptismal priesthood.

Q: Is it a sin if someone calls Mary co-redemptrix? Should I stop following them on social media? (Louisiana)

A: I’m assuming your question is in response to the recent document from the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (the Vatican “department” that deals with major theological questions pertaining to what we believe as Catholics) titled “Mater Populi Fidelis” – or in English, “Mother of the faithful people of God” – which is a “doctrinal note on some Marian titles regarding Mary’s cooperation in the work of salvation.”

The entire document is well worth a read, as it contains some helpful explanations and beautiful reflections on Mary’s role in salvation history. But the main practical takeaway from “Mater Populi Fidelis” is that, to avoid misunderstandings that could potentially veer into heresy, we should be extremely careful about referring to Our Lady as “Mediatrix” or mediator of God’s grace; and that “given the necessity of explaining Mary’s subordinate role to Christ in the work of redemption, it is always inappropriate to use the title ‘Co-redemptrix’ to define Mary’s cooperation” since “this title risks obscuring Christ’s unique salvific mediation and can therefore create confusion and an imbalance in the harmony of the truths of the Christian faith.”

Or in other words, while the title “co-redemptrix” has been used in the past by saints and even some popes, they did not elaborate “much on its meaning.” Calling Mary “co-redemptrix” could in theory have a perfectly orthodox interpretation such as, e.g., a reference to her as the mother who bore Christ the Redeemer into the world.

However, after years of careful discernment, the church’s doctrinal authorities came to the conclusion that this title is apt for misunderstanding and thus should not be used.

Whether or not it is actually a sin to call Mary “co-redemptrix” is a nuanced question that would need to take several factors into account. For an act to be a sin, it needs to be something that is objectively wrong, which the one committing it knows is wrong and which is chosen with at least some degree of freedom.CNS PHOTO | JUSTIN MCLELLAN
An image of Mary and the child Jesus stands behind the altar at Our Lady of the Sacred Heart Church in Rome
May 3, 2023.


Clearly, past Catholics who used the title before the publication of “Mater Populi Fidelis” on Nov. 4 were not sinning, since the question of calling Mary “co-redemptrix” was still an open one. And even now, this document does not seem to prohibit referencing this title in a purely academic context, such as if a degreed theologian wished to explore this theme in a paper intended for their professional peers.

Yet at the same time, Canon 752 of the Code of Canon Law reminds us that: “a religious submission of intellect and will is to be given to any doctrine which either the Supreme Pontiff or the College of Bishops, exercising their authentic magisterium [i.e., their teaching authority], declare upon a matter of faith or morals […] Christ’s faithful are therefore to ensure that they avoid whatever does not accord with that doctrine.”

So a Catholic who stubbornly refused to accept the church’s teaching in “Mater Populi Fidelis” and continued to refer to Mary as “co-redemptrix” out of a willful disregard for the pope’s authority likely would be sinning.

Still, we generally cannot know what goes on in another person’s heart as an outside observer. Defiantly promoting the “co-redemptrix” Marian title might be objectively a problem – and it’s not something we should do ourselves – but we can reserve judgment as to whether or to what degree another person might be sinning if they do this.

With respect to the question of whether or not to follow people who still use the “co-redemptrix” title on social media, here again I think a lot depends on the context. The church does not ask us to un-follow friends or family members who post things contrary to church teaching. But as a prudential judgment, it can be reasonable to avoid consuming media that directly contradicts church teaching.

Dec. 5, 2025
By: Jenna Marie Cooper

Q: My dad gives up chocolate every year for both Lent and Advent. I always tell him that this is weird and that we're not supposed to give things up for Advent, only Lent. Which one of us is right? (Florida)

A: Strictly speaking, Catholics aren’t required to “give anything up” for Advent. And even while the practice of taking on an additional, personal Lenten penance is a well-established and praiseworthy custom, Catholics technically aren’t required to do anything extra for Lent beyond the usual fasting and abstinence from meat (see Canon 1251 of the Code of Canon Law).

However, your dad also isn’t being “weird” for deciding to take on an additional penance for Advent. Although it’s not as common as a personal Lenten penance, it is still very much in keeping with the nature of the Advent season.

OSV NEWS PHOTO | BOB ROLLER

The first candle on an Advent wreath is seen lit during Mass at Sacred Heart Church in Prescott, Ariz., Nov. 30, the first Sunday of Advent. The season of Advent is the church’s preparation for the commemoration of Christ’s birth. The candles in the wreath represent the four weeks of the season, with a new candle lit each Sunday before Christmas.

Of course, Advent and Lent are different liturgical seasons with their own distinct meanings. Yet they actually do parallel each other in many ways. Both seasons are seasons of preparation: in Lent, we prepare for our annual remembrance of Christ’s passion, death and resurrection; and during Advent we prepare ourselves for the celebration of his first coming to earth as man at Christmas. Advent also calls to mind the big-picture need for preparation for Christ’s second coming in glory at the end of time – as well as the constant need for readiness to receive him daily into our hearts, minds and souls.

In a similar vein, both seasons are also seasons of repentance. During Lent we recall our sins so as to be truly sorry for them in memory and gratitude for what Christ suffered to redeem us. And in Advent, we renew our resolve to turn away from sin as a way to prepare for the coming of the Lord.

This Advent theme of repentance is especially present in the Gospel reading for the second Sunday of Advent, wherein we hear how “John the Baptist appeared, preaching in the desert of Judea and saying, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand’” (Mt 3:1-2).

The penitential nature of Advent is reflected in other aspects of our liturgy. For example, as in Lent, the liturgical color for Advent is purple, which signifies sorrow for sin and repentance. Although the Third Sunday of Advent has the specific theme of joy at the closeness of Christ’s coming – it is often called “Gaudete Sunday,” from the Latin word for “rejoice” – the liturgical color is rose, which communicates a more restrained and subdued joy than the white used for the full rejoicing proper to the Christmas and Easter seasons.

Likewise, during Advent, church decorations are to be pared down, as per the General Instruction of the Roman Missal: “During Advent the floral decoration of the altar should be marked by a moderation suited to the character of this time of year, without expressing in anticipation the full joy of the Nativity of the Lord” (GIRM, No. 305). And at Advent Sunday Masses, the joyful “Gloria” prayer is omitted (GIRM, No. 53)

There is a venerable Latin saying that I think applies here: “lex orandi, lex credendi,” which roughly translates to “we pray as we believe.” This means that our liturgy represents the truths of our faith, which we are to strive to interiorize ever more deeply.

As the Catechism of the Catholic Church tells us specifically with respect to Advent: “When the Church celebrates the liturgy of Advent each year, she makes present this ancient expectancy of the Messiah, for by sharing in the long preparation for the Savior’s first coming, the faithful renew their ardent desire for his second coming” (CCC, No. 524).

So on a practical spiritual level, taking on some additional penance for Advent – whether this be making a sacrifice, taking more time for prayer or spiritual reading or committing to additional works of charity – can be an excellent way to enter more deeply into the spirit of the season.

Nov. 28, 2025
By: Jenna Marie Cooper

Q: In my rosary group, I suggested we pray for all those experiencing feelings of hopelessness. My friend said that since it's the month of November, we should pray for the dead who are feeling hopeless. I've never heard of this intention before. Is it legit?

A: I think your friend’s heart is certainly in the right place. But while Catholics are called to pray for the dead – and while it’s a wonderful spiritual work of mercy to pray for living persons currently feeling hopeless – our Catholic teaching does not allow for the logical possibility of hopeless deceased souls who can still benefit from our prayers.

As you probably already know, we as Catholics believe that a soul faces one of three possibilities after death: They will go to either heaven, hell or purgatory. As we read in the Catechism of the Catholic Church: “Each man receives his eternal retribution in his immortal soul at the very moment of his death, in a particular judgment that refers his life to Christ: either entrance into the blessedness of heaven, through a purification, or immediately, or immediate and everlasting damnation” (CCC, No. 1022).

Heaven is the state of perfect happiness that comes from full union with God, the source of all goodness. The saints in heaven (and everyone in heaven is technically a saint, whether or not that are formally canonized with that title) are obviously not hopeless, since in heaven all true hope is ultimately fulfilled. Consequently, the saints have no need of our prayers – instead, we ask them to prayerfully intercede for us here on earth.

Of course, not very person – not even every basically good person – will be living a saintly life at the time of their death, and therefore might not be spiritually prepared to encounter God face-to-face. God still mercifully provides for these souls with the state of purgatory, which is a period of purification and healing of the wounds left behind from repented sins.

We believe that purgatory does involve a degree of suffering, but that this suffering is “entirely different from the punishment of the damned” (CCC, No. 1031). We on earth can help the souls in purgatory through our prayers and sacrifices. However, while the souls in purgatory can use our prayers, this is not because they feel hopeless! All souls in purgatory are destined for heaven, and so the state of purgatory is a fundamentally hopeful one.

OSV NEWS PHOTO | GREGORY A. SHEMITZ
Worshippers attend an All Souls’ Day Mass in the Our Lady of the Rosary Chapel and Mausoleum at Holy Sepulchre Cemetery in Coram, N.Y., Nov. 2.

With respect to hell, as we read in the Catechism of the Catholic Church: “The teaching of the Church affirms the existence of hell and its eternity. Immediately after death the souls of those who die in a state of mortal sin” [that is, unrepented moral sin] descend into hell, where they suffer the punishments of hell, ‘eternal fire.’ The chief punishment of hell is eternal separation from God, in whom alone man can possess the life and happiness for which he was created and for which he longs” (CCC, No.1035).

It’s important to keep in mind that the souls in hell suffer not because God is vengeful and eager to punish, but rather because such souls have freely rejected God through their own embracing of sin. God does not actively send souls to hell as much as he simply respects their choices.

Unlike purgatory, which is a journey toward something greater, hell is an absolutely permanent state. In the Divine Comedy, the poet Dante famously imagines the gates of hell as bearing the inscription: “Abandon all hope, you who enter here,” and this is theologically accurate. Because of hell’s finality, the souls there cannot benefit from anyone’s prayers for them.

Still, in many cases we don’t know the eternal destiny of any particular soul. Even for those who lived very sinful lives, we can always hope that they turned toward God in their final moments. And so it’s safe to say that as far as we should be concerned, prayers for the dead are never wasted.

Nov. 21, 2025
By: Jenna Marie Cooper

Q: From what I learned in history class, indulgences caused major issues for the church in the 16th century and was one of the main reasons why the Protestant Reformation happened. If indulgences were that much of a problem, then why does the church still have them?

A: I think a traditional Latin maxim applies here: “abusus non tollit usum,” or “abuse does not take away the proper use.” Or, in other words, just because a thing may have been abused in the past or may have the potential to be misused, it does not logically follow that the very same thing can never have its legitimate uses.
For some background, indulgences are a special favor granted by the church on the occasion of completing some pious work – like saying a certain prayer or visiting a particular shrine, etc. – which brings about “remission in the sight of God of the temporal punishment due for sins, the guilt of which has already been forgiven” (See Canon 992 of the Code of Canon Law).

This means that a person’s soul is eased in their sufferings in purgatory or, in the case of a plenary indulgence, a soul is freed from purgatory. A faithful Catholic may earn an indulgence for themselves, or they may apply it to a person who has already died.

The causes of the Protestant Reformation are complicated, involving various social, political and religious influences. But relevant to our discussion here, although historians debate some of the details, the general story is that in the 1500s money was being collected for indulgences, in part to fund the construction of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.

In theory it was possible to defend this as the indulgence being attached to the pious work of almsgiving, but in practice the promotion of indulgences in this way took on a dangerously commercial tone.

The then-Catholic monk Martin Luther was scandalized by what he saw as the sale of indulgences, and famously criticized the practice in his “95 theses.” Although Luther may have originally intended to challenge abuses from the point of view of a reform-minded but faithful Catholic, he did depart from the church’s doctrine on various points and of course eventually wound up separating altogether from communion with the Catholic Church.

CNS PHOTO | SAMUEL H. KRESS COLLECTION VIA NATIONAL GALLERY OF ART
This is a bronze coin titled “Dante before the Mountain of Purgatory [reverse], late 15th century.”

Yet even if indulgences were used badly at previous points of history, when understood properly they still have value for the church even today. And in fact, indulgences are tied in to many key Catholic doctrines such as the nature of purgatory and the communion of saints.

We believe that purgatory is a state a soul enters after death when that soul is ultimately destined for heaven but is not yet prepared to enter into the full presence of God. The so-called “temporal punishment due to sin” that happens in purgatory is not so much “punishment” as it is a process of purification and the healing of spiritual wounds, which even repented and forgiven sins can leave behind.Those of us still on earth can actively strive for a deeper sense of conversion and detachment from sin, but the souls in purgatory can no longer help themselves in this way and are dependent on our prayers and penances.

But because many of the saints were holy beyond what was needed for their own salvation, the church sees their “extra” holiness as being “stored up” in what we call the church’s treasury of grace.

Because Jesus gave the church, through St. Peter, the power to “bind and loose” spiritual things in both earth and heaven, (Mt 16:19) the church is able to apply this “stored up” grace to souls more in need. This distribution of grace is what happens when an indulgence is granted. See Paragraphs 1471-1479 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church for a fuller explanation.

However, indulgences can only be earned, never sold; and today the church avoids any association of indulgences with the exchange of money.

Nov. 14, 2025
By: Jenna Marie Cooper


Q: At my parish, we pray for vocations to the priesthood and religious life. But at the other parish in town, they pray for vocations to the priesthood, the diaconate, marriage, and religious life. How many vocations are there actually?

A: This is a tricky question to answer, because in our Catholic tradition the word “vocation” can mean different
things in different contexts.

The word “vocation” comes from the Latin word “vocare,” or “to call.” A vocation is literally “a calling,” which in a Catholic sense typically means a calling from God.
The first and most foundational vocation for any Christian is our baptismal vocation, which the Catechism of the Catholic Church describes as “a vocation to holiness and to the mission of evangelizing the world” (CCC, No. 1533).

However, often the term “vocation” is used to describe a Catholic’s state in life, or a permanent life commitment that involves a certain role within the church. But even here, there are a few different ways to categorize the various states in life.

One way is to divide Catholics between ordained clergy– that is, bishops, priests and deacons – and non-ordained laity (see Canon 207 of the Code of Canon Law). By this standard, anyone who has not received the sacrament of holy orders would be considered “lay.”

We can also categorize states in life according to a three-fold division of: the ordained clergy, those in consecrated life and the laity who are neither ordained nor living in a public state of consecrated life.

In this latter, more robust sense of the word “laity,” the Vatican II document “Lumen Gentium” describes the lay faithful as having a distinct vocational mission of their own: “They are called there [i.e., in the ordinary circumstances of secular life] by God that by exercising their proper function and led by the spirit of the Gospel they may work for the sanctification of the world from within as a leaven.”

Lay people may also be called to marriage and family life, which naturally comes with its own joys, responsibilities and potential for bearing a Christian witness to the world.

“Consecrated life” is an umbrella category that encompasses a variety of specific forms, from religious brothers and sisters engaged in active apostolates like teaching or serving the poor, to monks and nuns dedicated entirely to prayer, to lesser-known forms like secular institutes, consecrated virgins and hermits.

However, members of the faithful in all forms of consecrated life have the special vocation of imitating Christ’s own way of life more radically and be “witnesses to the fact of a new and eternal life acquired by the redemption of Christ,” and foretell “the future resurrection and the glory of the heavenly kingdom.”CNS PHOTO | LOLA GOMEZ
The Roman collar of a priest is seen in a file photo.

Yet even when speaking specifically about “state in life” vocations, it’s difficult to give an exact number for this since there are some instances when the various states of life can overlap. For example, some clergy, such as permanent deacons or priests from Eastern Catholic Churches, might also be married. (Though while an already-married man might receive holy orders in some circumstances, it’s worth noting that once ordained, clergy cannot marry or re-marry if their spouse dies.) Priests can also be members of institutes of consecrated life, giving them a dual vocation to the priesthood and consecrated life in their community.

But it’s important to keep in mind that the concept of “vocation” is ultimately not about sorting ourselves or others into boxes, but rather is about discerning and embracing God’s will for us in our own unique life situation – whether or not that fits tidily into one of the above-mentioned categories.

In fact, many of our greatest saints “broke the mold” in their vocation stories. Some of them responded to a call to pioneer new forms of Christian life, while others obeyed God’s call to a radical Christian life amid difficult, unusual or novel circumstances.