Sunday Thoughts

(…and other days too)

Essays on Faith in an Age of Doubt

Individualism in Matters of Faith

In modern Western culture, individualism is often celebrated as a virtue—the freedom to chart one’s own course, define personal truth, and approach religion in a way that feels authentic to the individual. While this mindset can encourage personal responsibility and sincere spiritual seeking, it becomes problematic when applied without balance to matters of faith. Christianity, at its heart, is not a purely private or self-designed journey. It is a shared, communal life rooted in relationship—with God, with others, and within the broader Body of Christ.

Historically, unchecked individualism has often led to fragmentation in Christian belief. Many well-meaning individuals, driven by a desire to be faithful, have broken from established tradition and begun interpreting Scripture in isolation. Over time, this has given rise to divisions and differing doctrines—even among those who deeply love Christ and the Bible. While sincere, these movements have shown how difficult it is to preserve doctrinal unity without authentic spiritual guidance to guard and clarify the deposit of faith.

This is where the Church plays a vital role—not as a barrier to personal faith, but as a safeguard against error and confusion. From a Catholic perspective, Christ established the Church not only to preach the Gospel, but to preserve it across generations. The Church, guided by the Holy Spirit, helps us remain anchored in truth while navigating the complexities of culture, language, and personal experience.

Individual reflection and conscience are important, but they must be held in tension with humility, tradition, and community. When pride causes us to trust only in our own interpretation, we risk missing the fuller wisdom of the Church’s collective and prayerful discernment over centuries.

Christianity is not meant to be lived in isolation. It is a call to communion, to mutual submission, and to faith that is both personal and ecclesial. In an age where “my truth” reigns supreme, we need the Church more than ever—not to restrict freedom, but to protect the truth that sets us free.

Religion Isn’t the Enemy of Relationship, It’s the Framework

In many modern Christian circles, the phrase “It’s about relationship, not religion” has become a common mantra. At first glance, it sounds compelling. Who wouldn't want a personal relationship with God over a stale set of rules? But while this phrase is often well-intentioned, it oversimplifies and even misrepresents the nature of authentic Christian faith—especially from a Catholic perspective.

1. False Dichotomy

The biggest issue with the phrase is that it sets up a false opposition between “relationship” and “religion,” as if the two are mutually exclusive. In reality, Christianity has always been both deeply relational and profoundly religious. The God of Scripture invites us into a relationship—but that relationship is not vague or formless. It’s expressed through covenant, community, worship, and obedience: the very things that define religion.

Religion, from the Latin religare (“to bind again”), refers to a binding relationship between God and humanity. It's not a set of empty rituals; it’s the structure that sustains and deepens our connection with God and with each other.

2. Jesus Practiced Religion

Jesus was not anti-religion. He worshipped in the synagogue, celebrated Jewish feasts, read Scripture publicly, fasted, taught with authority, and respected the authority of the Mosaic Law. When He criticized the Pharisees, it wasn’t because they were religious—it was because they were hypocrites. In Matthew 23, Jesus strongly rebukes the scribes and Pharisees. Yet in verse 2-3, He clarifies that despite their corruption, they still occupy a seat of legitimate teaching authority. Therefore, we are to follow what they teach—but not follow their example. His issue wasn’t with religion itself, but with religion emptied of love, humility, and sincerity.

To reject religion altogether is to reject the very framework in which Christ revealed Himself and through which the early Church operated.

3. Relationship Without Structure Is Vulnerable

Imagine trying to build a relationship without any shared practices, rhythms, or commitments. In a marriage, for instance, love is deepened and protected through vows, rituals, and intentional actions. So it is with our relationship with God. Liturgy, sacraments, prayer, and doctrine are not barriers to intimacy; they’re the very scaffolding that allows love to grow.

Without the structure of religion, one’s spiritual life becomes highly individualistic—subject to personal feelings, whims, or interpretations. This often leads to fragmented doctrine, confusion, or even spiritual pride. Religion, especially as understood in the Catholic faith, protects the relationship from distortion.

4. The Church Is a Family, Not a Solo Journey

To say "it's just me and Jesus" is to miss the communal nature of Christianity. Christ didn’t leave us a book and say “figure it out”—He established a Church. A relationship with Christ naturally involves His Body, the Church, which He called “the pillar and foundation of truth” (1 Timothy 3:15). The Church is not a religious obstacle to God—it’s His gift to us, safeguarding the truth and nourishing the faithful through the sacraments.

5. Religion Done Right Leads to Relationship Done Right

When religion is lived authentically, it’s not a lifeless formality but a living, breathing encounter with God. It shapes our loves, disciplines our desires, and anchors us in truth. It protects us from making God into a projection of ourselves.

To discard religion in the name of relationship is like throwing away the trellis because you love the vine. The vine needsthe trellis to grow rightly.

The Christian faith is not “religion or relationship”—it is religion that leads to relationship. True religion is not the enemy of intimacy with God—it’s the pathway to it. When we dismiss religion altogether, we risk creating a relationship with a god of our own making, instead of the living God who reveals Himself through the Church, the Scriptures, and the sacraments.

Don’t throw away the tools God gave you to know and love Him.

Religion isn’t the problem—it’s the invitation.

Nominalism, Reformation and the Splintering of Christianity

Introduction

The Reformation is often described as a theological revolution or a political revolt, but few recognize it as the visible consequence of a deeper, philosophical transformation. Long before Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the door at Wittenberg, a disruptive new mode of thought occurred in the intellectual world that would redefine foundational concepts and irreversibly affect the Church: Nominalism.

While some practices in the Church certainly needed reform, the philosophical framework inherited by many Reformers, especially Luther, undercut the very metaphysical foundations of Christianity. Nominalism transformed how people understood God, Scripture, grace, and the sacraments. In addition, the arrival of a groundbreaking technology—the printing press—ensured this fracture would spread like wildfire.

What Is Nominalism?

Nominalism is the philosophical position that denies the real existence of universals. According to this view, abstract concepts such as “justice,” “human nature,” or even “sacrament” are merely names (nomina) we assign to similar objects or experiences. They have no objective existence outside the mind.

This was a radical departure from the Realism of the earlier Church and of thinkers like St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas, who held that universals are real and participate in the eternal mind of God.

“A universal is that which is common to many. According to Plato, these exist in a world of forms; for Aristotle and Aquinas, they exist in things and in the mind.”
— Ralph McInerny, Aquinas and Analogy (CUA Press, 1996)

The Rise of Nominalism: William of Ockham

The most famous Nominalist was William of Ockham (c. 1287–1347), an English Franciscan friar and philosopher. His motto—entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem (“entities should not be multiplied beyond necessity”)

This idea, later called Ockham’s Razor, became the basis of his epistemological minimalism—the belief that we should only affirm what can be directly observed or logically demonstrated.

🔹 Key Features:

Rejects the real existence of universals (like “justice” or “human nature”); they are just names we use for convenience.
Limits knowledge to particular, observable things, not metaphysical or abstract realities.
God’s will is absolutely free and unconstrained by reason: What is “good” is good only because God wills it, not because it reflects His nature.
Emphasizes God’s will over God’s nature—because we cannot know His essence, only what He chooses to reveal.

🔹 Why It Matters:
Ockham’s minimalism stripped theology and philosophy of deeper metaphysical meaning. Words like “sacrament” or “grace” no longer pointed to a universal, divine reality—they were just mental labels. This would lay the groundwork for theological fragmentation and the loss of a unified Christian worldview.

The Theological Consequences of Nominalism

1. God Becomes Arbitrary and Unknowable

In Scholastic Realism (e.g., Aquinas), God’s will and nature are in harmony. God cannot contradict Himself because He is Truth. In Nominalism, however, God is not bound by reason or nature. He can will anything—even evil—if He so desires.

“Nominalism made God into a tyrant whose arbitrary will dictated morality.”
— Joseph Pieper, Scholasticism: Personalities and Problems of Medieval Philosophy (St. Augustine's Press, 1998)

2. Grace Becomes Disconnected from Sacrament

For Aquinas, a sacrament causes what it signifies through its form and matter, participating in a divine reality. In Nominalism, sacraments are not instruments of grace but arbitrary signs. Grace is not necessarily connected to the visible rite.

“In Ockham’s view, the sacraments are occasions for grace, not causes of it.”
— Steven Ozment, The Age of Reform (Yale University Press, 1980)

3. Scripture Supplants the Church and Tradition

Nominalism divorced theology from metaphysics. If there is no shared metaphysical reality, then divine revelation becomes the only certainty. This birthed a deep suspicion of natural theology and of the Church’s interpretive authority.

“The Nominalist tendency to isolate theology from philosophy led to a reliance on Scripture alone and a rejection of the Church's interpretive role.”
— Étienne Gilson, The Spirit of Medieval Philosophy (University of Notre Dame Press, 1991)

Martin Luther and the Nominalist Heritage

Luther was educated in a nominalist school under Gabriel Biel, a disciple of Ockham. Though Luther later criticized Biel's ideas, he absorbed much of Nominalist thought:

God’s righteousness is external and imputed (iustitia aliena), not internal and transformative.
Justification is a legal declaration, not a change in being.
The sacraments do not cause grace; they are signs of God’s promise.

Luther’s torment over God’s justice was a byproduct of this philosophy. In Nominalism, grace is not a participation in divine life but a divine favor, arbitrarily given.

“Luther’s understanding of justification presupposes a nominalist and voluntarist conception of God.”
— Alister McGrath, Iustitia Dei: A History of the Christian Doctrine of Justification (Cambridge University Press, 2005)

The Perfect Storm: The Printing Press

While Nominalism prepared the intellectual soil, it was Johannes Gutenberg’s invention of the printing press (c. 1440) that became the accelerant. For the first time in history, texts could be reproduced rapidly and widely without scribes.

Luther's 95 Theses were printed and disseminated across Europe in a matter of weeks. Pamphlets, polemics, and vernacular Bibles followed. But the ability to print did not bring unity—it brought unprecedented theological chaos:

Competing theologies could now be spread without restraint.
Authority shifted from Church teaching to printed opinion.
Literacy and private interpretation became the new arbiters of truth.

“Without printing, no Reformation; perhaps no Luther.”
— Elizabeth Eisenstein, The Printing Press as an Agent of Change (Cambridge, 1979)

The printing press enabled not just reformation, but revolution. What might have remained a regional theological debate exploded into a continental fragmentation. In this sense, Nominalism and the printing press together created a perfect storm: the former undermined objective truth, and the latter broadcast a thousand rival “truths” without a referee.

The Fruits of Nominalism: Division and Relativism

Without a shared metaphysical framework, Christians no longer agreed on what words like “grace,” “church,” or “truth” even meant. Once Scripture became subject to private interpretation without binding reference to a universal order:

Protestant sects began to multiply—Lutherans, Calvinists, Anabaptists, Anglicans—all claiming Scripture, all disagreeing.
The authority of the Church was replaced by the authority of individual conscience.
Eventually, even the Bible itself was questioned, as Enlightenment thinkers—using Nominalist logic—declared all religious truths subjective.

Today, with over 30,000 Christian denominations, the fragmentation continues.

Restoring Unity: Recovering a Sacramental Worldview

The path to Christian unity is not merely doctrinal reconciliation—it requires a restoration of metaphysical realism. We must recover the ancient and medieval understanding that:

Truth is objective.
Sacraments are efficacious signs.
The Church is a visible, hierarchical institution founded by Christ.
God is not arbitrary, but His nature is knowable through reason and revelation.

“The Church firmly believes that God, the principle and end of all things, can be known with certainty from the created world by the natural light of human reason.”
— Catechism of the Catholic Church, §36

Only by rebuilding on this foundation can the Body of Christ move toward true unity.

Conclusion

The Reformation was not merely a reaction to ecclesiastical corruption; it was the fruit of a philosophical revolution that began in the Middle Ages. Nominalism undercut the very fabric of Christian thought. It dismantled the realism that allowed the Church to speak with one voice across time and culture. In its place arose a fragmented world of private judgment, symbolic sacraments, and countless interpretations of Scripture.

Then came the printing press—magnifying every division, empowering every theological camp, and turning Christianity into a marketplace of opinions.

Ideas have consequences. And few ideas have had consequences as dramatic—and as tragic—as Nominalism, especially when amplified by mass communication. The way forward is not to invent a new unity, but to recover the one that was lost when we abandoned the sacramental worldview that shaped the early Church.

Does Nominalism open the door for multiple versions of truth?

Yes—Nominalism opens the door to multiple versions of "truth" by denying that universal, objective truths exist independently of the mind. In a Nominalist framework, what we call "truth" often becomes dependent on:

Language
Context
Authority (e.g., God’s will)
Subjective or social agreement

So while a strict Nominalist may not explicitly say “multiple truths are all equally valid,” their system dismantles the metaphysical foundation required for one unified, objective, knowable Truth—especially in theology and morality. Nominalism doesn’t explicitly promote relativism, but it creates the philosophical conditions that make relativism—and multiple “truths”—both possible and culturally acceptable.