Appearing in today’s gospel is a passage that is sure to lead to questions: “Amen, I say to you, all sins and all blasphemies that people utter will be forgiven them. But whoever blasphemes against the holy Spirit will never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an everlasting sin.” (Mark 3: 28-29) It is a question I am regularly asked. Sometimes out of curiosity; sometimes out of concern for their souls. Perhaps beneath the question is seeking assurance they are not somehow guilty of a sin that is unforgivable. My first response to the question is the very fact that they are worried and essentially asking“Have I done this?” is itself a strong sign that they have not. But let’s explore the question.
First of all one has to discern the context of the words. In Mark 3, Jesus speaks of “blaspheming the Holy Spirit” in response to a very specific situation. The scribes are witnesses of undeniable acts of healing and liberation, they recognize that something extraordinary is happening, and yet deliberately claim that this work of God comes from Satan. It is one thing to wonder about who is this person able to do the works of God. That would be the spirit of inquiry even if accompanied with a measure of confusion or doubt. But that’s not what they do. They willfully misname God’s saving work. They have closed their hearts to the Spirit of God – for what? To protect power, status, and control? Jesus’ warning arises from this hardened posture.
It is important to clear away common fears, misconceptions, and poor catechesis. Blaspheming the Holy Spirit is not a sudden angry thought, a careless word spoken in frustration, a season of doubt or questioning, falling into serious sin, feeling distant from God, or even rejecting God for a time and later returning. Think about it. Peter denied Jesus, Paul persecuted the Church, David committed grave sin and all were forgiven.
Across Scripture, the Fathers, and the Catechism, there is remarkable consistency. Blaspheming the Holy Spirit is a settled, persistent refusal to accept God’s mercy by rejecting the Spirit who offers it. St. Augustine put it this way: “The sin is unforgivable because it refuses forgiveness.” The Catechism (CCC 1864) says: “There are no limits to the mercy of God, but anyone who deliberately refuses to accept his mercy by repentance rejects the forgiveness of sins.”
In other words, the Holy Spirit’s role is to convict the heart, reveal truth, move us toward repentance, and open us to grace. To blaspheme the Spirit is to shut the door from the inside.
The heart of the issue is why is it called “unforgivable?” It is not that God refuses to forgive. It is that the person refuses to be forgiven. Forgiveness requires recognition of sin, openness to grace, and willingness to be changed. Blaspheming the Holy Spirit is the deliberate choice to say: “I do not need mercy,” “I will decide what is good and evil,” “God is wrong; I am right.” As long as that stance remains, forgiveness cannot take root not because grace is absent, but because it is rejected.
One thing that always needs to be said pastorally and clearly in order to give the person reassurance is that anyone who is worried about having committed this sin has not committed it. Why? Because fear, sorrow, regret, and concern for reconciliation are movements of the Holy Spirit, not signs of blasphemy. The unforgivable sin is marked by certainty, not anxiety; self-justification, not repentance; hardness, not fear; and indifference, not longing. A closed heart does not ask for reassurance.
Jesus is not trying to terrify fragile consciences. He is warning hardened ones. He is saying be careful not to explain away grace, to label God’s work as threatening or to protect yourself so fiercely that you refuse to be converted. This warning is itself an act of mercy. It is a final attempt to shake open a heart that is closing.
The last word is always this. As long as a person can still say, “Lord, have mercy,” then mercy is already at work. God’s forgiveness is inexhaustible. The only real danger is refusing or denying it.
And so when parishioners ask, “Have I done this?” My answer is “No. The very fact that you’re asking means the Spirit is still speaking, and your heart is still open. But tell me more.” That last part of the response very often leads to the grace of the Sacrament of Reconciliation.
One of the most subtle spiritual dangers is not outright rejection of God, but the slow closing of the heart, intentionally or not, in what amounts to some form of self-protection.
In his letter to Timothy, Paul writes with urgency and tenderness. He knows how easily fear can cause a believer to retreat from the fullness of gospel living. Perhaps we pull back on ministry or sharing our faith in parts of our lives where we might be judged or dismissed. That is why he reminds Timothy that God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and self-control. We know the experience of being in love, how it opens our hearts. We know the experience of fear when we close in and begin to shield or protect some part of ourselves. Perhaps it is to protect our reputation, our safety, our comfort, or our standing in the community. Faith quietly loses its courage.
The Gospel shows what happens when self-protection hardens into resistance. The scribes are confronted with undeniable evidence of God’s power at work in Jesus. Rather than allowing the truth to challenge them, they reinterpret it in a way that preserves their authority. They choose explanation over conversion. In doing so, they close themselves off from the very grace meant to heal them.
Jesus’ warning about blaspheming the Holy Spirit is not about a single careless word. Let me suggest it is about a settled refusal to recognize God’s work when it stands plainly before us. A closed heart no longer seeks truth; it seeks justification. Once that happens, repentance becomes impossible not because God withholds mercy, but because the heart will no longer receive it. Paul tells us “and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the holy Spirit that has been given to us.” (Romans 5:5) We have closed off our hearts and refused entry to the Holy Spirit.
Paul offers a different path. From prison, stripped of security and status, he refuses self-protection. He entrusts himself to God and encourages Timothy to do the same. His confidence does not come from being safe, but from being faithful. The truth of the Gospel is worth the cost, even when it leads to suffering.
You might think, “I don’t think I have a closed heart.” A closed heart often begins as a cautious heart, a heart that wants to avoid risk. Where are we cautious? Where might we be choosing comfort over truth, silence over witness, control over trust?
The Gospel does not grow in protected spaces. It grows where people are willing to be changed.
Today we are invited to pray for hearts that remain open; open enough to be challenged, open enough to repent, open enough to trust that God’s Spirit is at work even when it unsettles us. Because truth received brings life, but truth resisted for the sake of self-protection slowly shuts the door to grace.
May the Lord keep our hearts open, courageous, and free. May our hearts not be governed by fear, but shaped by the Spirit who leads us into all truth. The Spirit that is poured into our hearts.
The First Sino-Japanese war marked Japan as a military power – but was Japan capable of engaging a western military power? That question would be put to the test in the Russo-Japanese War of 1904–1905.
In the previous post we noted that the transfer of Liaodong Peninsula and its warm water Port Arthur were ceded to Japan in the treaty that ended the First Sino-Japanese War. Via the “Triple Intervention,” (of which Russia was the primary animator), Japan reluctantly agreed to return Liaodong to China in 1895, the same year the war ended. In 1898 the ports of Liaodong and Port Authur were leased to Russia. The news was not received well in Japan. Beyond the humiliation, this meant the very thing Japan feared: a western imperial power gaining a foothold in what Japan considered its “security zone.” But Japan also realized Russia’ long term goals and objectives were even more ominous.
Russia had a similar view of Japan and sought to construct “security zones” that provided protection, strategic depth while providing economic and diplomatic leverage. Russia’s Far Eastern policy aimed at the warm-water port of Port Arthur. In addition Russia wanted to extend its influence southward from Siberia into Manchuria and Korea. This would link the Pacific coast firmly to European Russia.
All this brought Russia even more deeply and directly into Japan’s perceived security zone.
Precursors to War
After 1895, Russia steadily entrenched itself in Manchuria as it had gained rights to build the Chinese Eastern Railway across Manchuria to connect to the Trans-Siberian Railway. In 1898 the aforementioned lease of Port Arthur was secured and in 1900 the Russian military took advantage of conflict and occupied Manchuria during China’s Boxer Rebellion. Then Russia failed to fully withdraw from Manchuria afterward, despite repeated promises. Japanese leaders interpreted this as bad faith and evidence of permanent annexation plans. All this transformed Russia from a distant empire into a direct territorial rival.
Although Manchuria was vital, Korea was the emotional and strategic trigger. After 1895, Russia increased diplomatic, financial, and military involvement in Korea. Russian advisers appeared at the Korean court. Russia was giving all the signs and indications that their goal was for Korea to become a Russian protectorate, mirroring what had happened in Manchuria. Japan was willing to compromise on Manchuria; it was not willing to compromise on Korea.
From 1901–1904, Japan sought negotiated settlements, proposing that Japan recognize Russian predominance in Manchuria in exchange for Russian recognition of Japanese predominance in Korea. Russia repeatedly delayed responses and when they did reply the concessions or counters were vague or conditional. At the same time the Russians continued strengthening their military position. Japan rightly concluded that Russia was using diplomacy to buy time.
Internal pressures pushed Japan toward war. After the Triple Intervention, Japan believed its status as a great power depended on resisting further humiliation. Many Japanese believed they must fight before Russia completed the Chinese Eastern Railway and achieved overwhelming superiority – it was now or never – and the nation, for 20 years, had been investing in the military for a contingency just like this. Further delay favored Russia and so “now” seemed to be the window for victory; a window that might soon close. War increasingly appeared to be the least bad option.
How to understand the Russo-Japanese War
The Triple Intervention’s legacy went beyond immediate grievance. It convinced Japan that international law and diplomacy favored the strong, hardened Japanese elites against reliance on Western goodwill, and reinforced the belief that only decisive force could secure Japan’s place. The Triple Intervention was not a cause of war, but a lesson learned.
Other world powers had their own concerns about Russia. Britain and the United States preferred a strong Japan to check Russian expansion and applied no serious pressure on Japan to back down. In addition the Britain–Japan Alliance (1902) reassured Japan that it would not face a multi-power coalition. And so Japan did not fear diplomatic isolation in the way it had regarding the First Sino-Japanese War. All of this gave indications that perhaps Japan was being accepted as a world power or at least acknowledged as the preeminent Asia power.
Meanwhile, Russia never prepared for war. On one hand Russia was far more concerned with European matters and internal court intrigue. On the other, Russia severely underestimated Japan’s military power, the existential threat they were imposing upon Japan, its willingness to attack a European power, and other factors that likely included racial and cultural assumptions that Japan was a “second-rate” power. Besides, time was on their side; or so they believed.
Over time, historians have developed different views of the war. In part, because more primary source information became available and the lenses of understanding changed between generations. Up until the 1950s, the understanding was that Russian aggression and imperial expansion were the primary causes; Japan fought a defensive, pre-emptive war. It was believed that Japan exhausted diplomatic options and struck only when delay became fatal. Overall, the clash is viewed as a case of a rising regional power resisting European imperialism. Any Japanese imperial ambitions are downplayed and priority is given to the perceived threat from Russia.
In the 1960s the assertion was that Japan deliberately chose war to secure imperial expansion. Russia was cautious, divided, and often defensive while Japan overstated the Korean security threat to justify expansion. Captured by internal politics, Tokyo rejected workable compromises to avoid diplomatic limits on its freedom. At the same time, military and naval elites used war to secure budgets, cement political influence and validate the expenses of the modernization efforts. Russia, lacking a coherent Far Eastern strategy, repeatedly sought delays. This view underplays how threatening Russian actions appeared to Japanese decision-makers at the time.
From the 1990s onward the view judges that the war resulted from mutual imperial ambitions, compounded by misperception, bureaucratic politics, and structural insecurity. This approach does not split blame cleanly but asks, “Why did compromise fail when it seemed possible?”
The general conclusion is that diplomacy failed because Russia’s bureaucracy was fragmented causing delays which Japan interpreted as deception. Both sides believed time favored the other, creating a commitment trap. Along with other factors, war was not inevitable, but once certain thresholds were crossed, it became likely.
When one looks at the analysis of the later Asian-Pacific War, you will discover elements of the same pattern. Often these phases are described as orthodox, revisionist, and modern (sometimes followed by neo-orthodox). It is especially in the last phases, when more primary source documents become available that specialists begin to view through specific lenses reflecting what the historian thinks is the primary driver: economics, diplomacy, policy, politics, security, and more.
Why do I mention this? Because later in this series we will review that same morphing historiography as concerns Pearl Harbor and the Asia-Pacific War.
The War
After years of failed diplomacy, Japan launched a surprise attack on the Russian fleet at Port Arthur in February 1904. Japan quickly seized the initiative on land and sea, winning major battles at Liaoyang, Mukden (remember this name), and decisively at the naval Battle of Tsushima, where Japan destroyed Russia’s Baltic Fleet. Tsushima turned a prolonged war of attrition into a rapid path to Japanese victory.
Despite Russia’s larger population and resources, she suffered from poor leadership, long supply lines, and domestic unrest all of which crippled her war effort. Japan’s modernized army and navy achieved rapid, coordinated victories but at high cost. The war ended with the Treaty of Portsmouth (1905), mediated by the United States, recognizing Japan’s predominance in Korea, transferring Port Arthur and southern Manchuria to Japan, and confirming Japan as the first Asian power to defeat a European great power in modern war.
The Aftermath
The Japanese victory in the Russo-Japanese War is described as coming “at high cost” because military success pushed Japan close to the limits of its manpower, finances, and social cohesion, even while it won on the battlefield. The costs were real, visible, and politically destabilizing, leaving deep scars beneath the triumph.
Japan won most major engagements, but often through frontal assaults against entrenched Russian positions. The losses (deaths and casualties) were exceptionally high for a small nation. Total casualties (killed, wounded, missing) were 70,000–80,000. While the Russian losses were higher in absolute numbers, the losses were not as devastating or proportionally large. Further, for Japan the losses fell heavily on young, conscripted males, straining villages and families. The army began to fear it was winning battles faster than it could replace men.
Japanese doctrine emphasized an offensive spirit and tactical mindset regardless of the cost. While it worked tactically in this war, attrition favored Russia in the long run. Japan’s leaders quickly came to understand that they could not sustain another year of fighting. By early 1905 ammunition stockpiles were low, replacement soldiers were less well trained, and the army was nearing exhaustion. Victory arrived just before exhaustion became defeat.
In a certain sense Japan lost the war. Japan had financed the war largely through Britain and U.S. loans supplemented by heavy domestic taxation. As a result national debt skyrocketed as war expenditures consumed well over half of government spending. Japan emerged victorious but financially dependent on international credit, and most importantly, had no leverage to impose a punitive peace as it had done after the First Sino-Japanese War. Punitive peace was the expectation of the people after such a great sacrifice.
But unlike earlier wars, Russia had suffered casualties and loss, but overall their army and navy were still substantial, no Russian territory was occupied, and the regime of Russia was not really threatened, nor was the Trans-Siberian Railway. In addition, the U.S. had moderated the treaty/settlement. President Roosevelt’s priorities were ending the war quickly, preserving a balance of power in East Asia and avoiding Russia’s complete humiliation which might destabilize Europe. Roosevelt pressed Japan to drop indemnity demands and accept territorial and political concessions instead
Japan accepted because it needed peace more than money.
Back home, the public expected indemnity payments, territorial expansion of more than Korea and southern Manchuria, and some step-up in recognition. The perceived gap between sacrifice and reward sparked riots in Tokyo and a growing disillusionment with the current political leaders. Victory felt incomplete, even humiliating to some.
The war reinforced dangerous lessons for the Japanese military that cemented the bushidō philosophy in their ranks. It became, not just an understanding, but doctrine that bushidō spirit could overcome material disadvantage. Also, that decisive victory required willingness to accept massive losses. These lessons contributed to later tolerance for extreme casualties in future wars. In a way, the cost was not only human and financial, but ideological. And to the western mind, irrational.
Image credit: various photographs from Naval Aviation Museum, National World War II Museum, and US Navy Archives.
This coming weekend is the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time. The gospel is the beginning of Matthew’s well known “Sermon on the Mount.” In today’s post we cover the context for the Sermon as well as some overarching views of the Sermon regarding its context and audience.
From the 4th through the 9th Sundays of Year A the Catholic Lectionary covers most of Chapters 5-7 of the Gospel according to Matthew – popularly known as the “Sermon on the Mount.” These verses are the first, the longest and the most carefully structured discourse in Matthew’s narrative. Roughly 27 percent of Matthew’s discourse is shared with Luke 6:20-49, a further 33 percent has parallels elsewhere in Luke, and 5 percent in Mark, while the remaining 35 percent is unique to Matthew. In Matthew it is a lengthy collection of authoritative teaching with a parallel of authoritative deeds following in Matthew 8-9. But the Sermon does not simply appear. Matthew has established the groundwork for its message.
By way of preparation for the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew has established Jesus’ superiority to John the Baptist (3:1–12), recounted the divine acknowledgement of Jesus as the Son of God (3:13–17), and shown what kind of Son of God Jesus is (4:1–11). The scene has been set: the Messiah had begun to preach in Galilee as Scripture foretold (4:12-17). The Son of God has begun to form a new messianic community via the calling of the four disciples (4:18-22).