Father Hunwicke on Councils and The Council

Father* Hunwicke has re-published his series of blog posts from 2011 on the significance of Vatican II, with reference to earlier Church Councils. They are a splendid read.

*John Hunwicke lives at present as a lay member of the Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham. I intend to continue referring to him as Father, as a personal honorific, in acknowledgment of his many years of ministry in the Church of England.

“The Council” 1
Councils (2)
Councils (3)
Councils (4)

Passing on a Meme from Mulier Fortis

Ttony of The Muniment Room has tagged me for Mulier Fortis’s "meme" about books to put on Kindle. I don’t have a Kindle, but our house is groaning with real books. I imagine some of the books I would recommend aren’t available in Kindle editions, but here is my attempt at a Fantasy Kindle list. I’ve kept to fiction, and a balance of heavy-ish and light.

C S Lewis: That Hideous Strength. A near-futurist novel about totalitarianism in post-World War Two Britain, the sinister powers behind it, and the small group of people who are drawn into the battle against them.

R H Benson: Lord of the World. This is a fascinating mixture of a novel. I love its Edwardian futuristic imagination, especially the author’s descriptions of flight. There is one such passage, set in the Alps, which is tremendous. An interesting feature is the things Benson assumed would still be in place: the glory of the Church’s worship; the royal houses of Europe; Palestine as a peaceful, forgotten backwater. Some of the scenes, in particular those involving the main female character, are very powerful and moving. All this, wrapped up in an old-fashioned Ripping Yarn.

Finally, as a busman’s holiday for a busy teacher, Miss Read’s Chronicles of Fairacre, comprising her first three Fairacre novels: Village School, Village Diary, and Storm in the Village. A pleasant escape into the rural world of the 1950s.

I think I’ll tag The Reluctant Sinner, Pastor Emeritus, and Fr Henry of Offerimus Tibi Domine.

Apparently I have to include Mulier Fortis's rules, which are:

"You post the rules and a link back to the person who tagged you.
You also tell them that they've been tagged on their own blog, rather than just hoping they'll discover it for themselves.
Then you decide what three books are essential reading for anyone with a Kindle. Reasons would be good, but not essential.
Then you tag five people."

However, I’m sure I have already broken them, and in any case I am finding them a bit complicated for my non-technical brain.

A few more thoughts about the Catholic card

My post on 5th February about the new “I am a Catholic” card had a welcome visitor in the comments box. He is Mr Brian McMahon, who is a candidate in training for the permanent diaconate in the Archdiocese of Westminster. He has an interesting blog, Cursor Mundi, which I cordially invite my readers to visit.

I confined myself to thanking Mr McMahon for his comment, because I thought I would need some time to reflect on it. He makes a number of points, in a very friendly spirit. His comment is, I would guess, a pretty accurate rendering of what was probably in the Bishops’ minds when they were working on this project. I’d now like to add some reflections to what he has written.

The wheel has been invented, and well done to whoever invented it. But if it doesn’t work, it needs modification. The card looks very attractive; but its list of faith-statements strikes me as weak, and in one instance - "Celebrate the sacraments regularly" - inaccurate. Inaccurate in rather a complex way: it seems like a stringing-together of words at a brainstorming session, which when joined together become incorrect and even meaningless.

I believe the text of the card matters, because the substance of words matters, in the sense of their weight and meaning. In such a small space every word should count, in terms of attracting the reader - including the young reader - to Christ, His Church and the sure path to eternal life She offers.

However simply expressed, the message surely has to be both theological and catechetical, albeit in concentrated form. Teaching about God, giving a reason for the hope that is in us, as Catholic Christians, should be at the heart of it. I don’t think the Bishops’ card has achieved this. I hope they will treat this production as Mark I, and not as the last word in this very good initiative.

You will by now have gathered, Mr McMahon, that your contribution has provided me with valuable encouragement to further thought on this subject. God bless you in your studies, and in your future ministry.

Ttony on the National Pastoral Congress of 1980

After a break from blogging, Ttony of The Muniment Room has stormed back with this tremendous account of the National Pastoral Congress, which was held in Liverpool in 1980. He writes about its preparation, its chief players, and its consequences for the Catholic Church in England and Wales. If you did not know about this before, it will help you to understand why we are where we are.

HOW DID WE GET HERE

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 and final

How Did We Get Here (Sources)

The "I am a Catholic" card

I’ve been having quite a bit of fun (frivolous word! but I hope you will indulge me) with this idea of the “I am a Catholic” card, which was the subject of my post on 3rd February. It’s really commendable that the Bishops of England and Wales have embarked on this initiative. The Catholic Herald has the details, and the wording, which, for convenience, I have transcribed here:

As a Catholic, I,
[insert your name]
am called to:
Share with others the joy of knowing Jesus Christ
Pray
Celebrate the sacraments regularly
Love my neighbour as myself
Use the gifts that I’ve been given wisely
Forgive as I have been forgiven

In the event of an emergency please contact a Catholic priest.

According to the Herald, the other side “has a quote from Blessed John Henry Newman, focusing on the call to serve and affirming that everyone has a mission.”

A few commenters thought that the wording could have been better chosen. David suggested that others might like to produce their own versions, in no more than 50 words or so, and encouraged parishes, groups, and individuals, to do this. “The more the merrier,” said ms Catholic state; and I think that’s a very good idea.

The Bishops’ version is a valiant start. More could be done, though, to utilise every scrap of the space - that of a credit card - to maximum effect. This would give them more scope for composing short, pithy statements of what it means, specifically, to be a Christian of the Catholic Church, rather than, say, a broad-Church Anglican or other Christian. In addition, we need to take account of the important point made by the commenter Andrea Hyde, that some Protestant Christians have the strange idea that Catholics are not Christians.

Here are some provisional ideas for my personal “I am a Catholic” card.
The size of a credit card is only 8.5cm by 5.3cm, less a small margin all round; therefore everything that is not essential must be excluded.
Both sides should make an impact.
Personally, I would not use one side for the Newman quotation. Instead, I would devote that side to something like the following, in large bold lettering:

I AM A CATHOLIC.

If I am injured or taken ill,
please contact a Catholic priest.

This could be accompanied by a small picture of a crucifix in one corner.

The other side would then be fully available for the most concise essential statement of what it means to be a Catholic.
Apart from the small crucifix on the “I am a Catholic” side, there should be no other illustrations; they take up valuable space.

David’s idea of about 50 words has gone out of the window, even if I don’t count the headings; but I have managed to fit onto one side what I hope are the basic things one would want to say to an enquirer.
Anything I have omitted (mistakes excepted) is, I hope, implicit in what is included.
I hope these short statements are intriguing enough to prompt the reader to say “What does this mean?” or “But what about…?” and so to lead that person to learn more.
This is a tall order. But my first thoughts are along these lines:

As Catholics, we believe in
- One God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit
- Jesus Christ, our Saviour
- The Catholic Church, founded by Him to guide us
We are called to
- Love God completely
- Be good to all
- Live a moral life
- Turn from sin, and ask God’s forgiveness
We are drawn close to God
- In the Holy Mass and Sacraments
- When we pray
- When we read the Bible
And when this life is ended
- We hope for happiness with God forever.

I've run through the Creed, and looked at the chapter headings in my Penny Catechism; and I hope I've included everything that absolutely had to be included. I hope that it also sounds attractive.


Picture from telegraph.co.uk, via Google Images

The Olive-Tree Baptismal Font

There have been some reports and comments in the Catholic blogosphere about the new olive-tree baptismal font in the Sistine chapel. I haven't read all of them, but those I have seen were not at all keen.



Like others, I was concerned at the thought of a dear little chubby arm being stabbed by one of those alarmingly prickly-looking leaves. The design does however make the foliage lower at the front, in fact below the rim of the font, which reduces the risk somewhat.

I rather like the design. It's certainly modern, but it is a realistic representation of the natural appearance of an olive tree.

More importantly, it recalls - deliberately, I suppose - the olive tree to which St Paul refers in his Letter to the Romans. I published a post in June 2010, on the subject of the olive, in the so-called prophecies of St Malachy, and in the Holy Father's words at Ben Gurion Airport at the end of his visit to Israel in May 2009. With this new font, Pope Benedict appears to be emphasising the idea of Baptism as our grafting into the olive tree, which also awaits, in God's good time, the grafting back of its natural branches.



Pictures via Google Images, from (1) inigohicks.blogspot.com and (2) traddyiniowa.blogspot.com - neither of whom liked the new font.

The Catholic Faith as a Mini-Saga

From a comment by David under a Catholic Herald article: “Bishops to distribute cards to Catholics declaring their faith”:

These cards are a good idea. The wording is rubbish! So what's to stop a parish producing its own -similar in size and layout, but with better wording? Bearing in mind the constraints of space on a credit-card sized space, Let's have a competition on here for the best wording - leaving the top and tail alone I reckon that's about 50 words. The Catholic Faith in 50 words - now there's a challenge ..

... to which Ms Catholic state adds:

I totally agree with your last point that parishes...and in my mind individuals too....can produce and distribute cards and leaflets according to their consciences.....and distribute them where they will. The more the merrier .

Some years ago, the Daily Telegraph held a mini-saga competition. A mini-saga was a complete story, told in just 50 words. I think extra words were allowed for the title. Some of the entries were very clever. I had a go at one or two stories; not to send in, because they weren’t very good; but it was challenging and satisfying to do them. If you have ever tried writing a sonnet, your experience has probably been quite similar. The mini-saga is a sort of equivalent in prose. It forces you to pare everything down until what remains is pure, concise and essential.

I think I may try my hand at this 50-word statement of faith; but it will probably be far more difficult than it looks. Please don't expect to see the results on this blog; I'd be far too embarrassed!


Picture from bbc.co.uk via Google Images

The Prophecies of Simeon and Anna

You may find, as I do, that in reading and re-reading the Gospels, you grow to love certain characters who appear quite fleetingly but to great effect.

I am thinking just now of Simeon and Anna, who appear in Chapter 2 of St Luke’s Gospel, in his account of Jesus’s presentation in the Temple. Verses 25 to 35 refer to Simeon, and verses 36 to 38 to Anna.

It’s interesting that the words of Anna, who is specifically described as a prophetess, are not recorded. Luke says, simply, that “she gave thanks to God, and spoke of Him [of Jesus] to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem.”

Simeon, while not actually called a prophet by Luke, brims over with prophetic words that are both beautiful and ominous. He utters the famous words, “Lord, now let your servant depart in peace” – he who had lived to a very great age with the Divine promise that he should not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. He speaks of Jesus as the Lord’s salvation, as a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and as the glory of Israel. He tells Mary of the sword that will pierce her heart.

Simeon and Anna complete the small but wide-ranging group of witnesses to the Incarnation, birth and infancy of Christ. Zechariah and Elizabeth, a priest of the Temple and his wife, share in that extraordinary time at the very beginning. Their own longed-for child, John, leaps in Elizabeth's womb at the sound of the voice of Mary, who is already, to Elizabeth, "the mother of my Lord". The shepherds, in all probability quite poor and uneducated, and ranging in age from boys to old men, visit the new-born Jesus. The Wise Men, exotic foreigners, Gentiles, practitioners of strange sciences, bring expensive gifts full of meaning. And finally we meet two very old saints, prophets, in the great Temple of Jerusalem. They are really a cross-section of human life, greeting Our Lord at the start of His earthly journey; and how wonderful that is.


Picture from patheos.com via Google Images

Rome and the SSPX: another fascinating news item

Many of you will have read the following, which appeared today on the Rorate Caeli blog:

The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has accepted as valid the repudiation of schism of a former Orthodox priest accomplished by the Superior-General of the Society of Saint Pius X (FSSPX /SSPX), Bp. Bernard Fellay. Cardinal Levada also reportedly informed that the priest would have been named a domestic prelate in recognition of his former rank in the Orthodox Church. (News provided by the Polish district of the SSPX, translated by Laodicea). Rorate has been able to independently confirm this information. Archimandrite Athenagoras Bogoridi-Liven, a Bulgarian, is currently living in the monastery of Bellaigue, France, of Benedictines alligned with the SSPX.

This is really interesting. A great step for the formerly Eastern Orthodox priest, and may he be richly blessed. But to be received into Catholic communion by Bishop Fellay of the SSPX; and to have his reception accepted as valid by Rome; and to be named as a domestic prelate – which I think gives him the title of Monsignor, but I’m happy to be corrected on that point - is an extraordinary piece of news.

May I refer you to a post of mine from October 2010, entitled The SSPX: Vatican recognition de facto and ad hoc. This latest news seems to make a further intriguing contribution to the story of the SSPX . What next, I wonder?

The settling-in process of the revised English Mass translation

I thought it might be useful to record the things I have noticed at Mass, now that the revised translation has been up and running in England and Wales for some months.

First of all, our parish priest. He has been very good, very committed to making a decent job of the revised Mass. All credit to him.

Most of the congregation seem to have got the hang of “And with your spirit”. The only instance of it that frequently trips me up is the one after Holy Communion, when I haven’t changed gear from saying my post-Communion prayers, and haven’t picked up my Mass book again. I find myself saying “And also … your spirit”. I’ll get used to it soon enough, I hope.

The Confiteor is, in one respect, a work in progress. Hardly any of the people strike their breast at the “through my fault”, except where I happen to be. Usually by the third strike, my neighbours on each side have joined in, which is interesting. This may be happening elsewhere among the congregation – little clusters of “strikers” – but I don’t look round to see what’s happening. In my peripheral vision, I don’t notice any movement.

During the Creed, and again this is only within my peripheral range of sight, very few heads are bowed at the Incarnation; but then, that was the case before the revision. However, I think the incidence of it has increased a little. There is one heroine who genuflects at this point, in the old style, which sets a wonderful example.

At the Offertory prayers, nearly everyone says “for our good and the good of all his Church”, except for me and a few others thinly scattered around the nave, who remember to insert the “holy”. Our “Church” then goes out into the silence. I feel a bit like Corporal Jones in Dad’s Army, standing to attention a couple of seconds behind the rest of the platoon. But perseverance is the thing; perhaps my neighbours who miss it this time will remember to say it next time. Slowly, slowly, it will spread.

The response to “Behold the Lamb of God” is definitely rather ragged. I think quite a lot of people still say “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you”; but at this point they seem to become conscious of the sound of confusion as the two translations diverge; and I think quite a few of them are back on track with “my soul shall be healed” by the end.

I wonder if these observations are fairly similar to those of my English-speaking readers. I suppose it depends on whether the priest decides to tackle what builders would call the "snagging" list, or relies on time to iron everything out.

Anonymity, with extra Anonymity

As far as I am concerned, Confession must not only be in a proper confessional with a screen between confessor and penitent, but it should also be without any possibility of recognising the penitent by his or her voice.

Hence the various outings I have made in recent years. A couple of times to the Birmingham Oratory, but it's two trains from here, followed by quite a long walk from Five Ways station. I haven't been there for four or five years.

Once to Birmingham's St Chad's Cathedral, where the then-incumbent, Archbishop Nichols, offered the Mass, and then disappeared into the confessional. I was a bit intimidated at the thought of confessing to him, but he was kindness itself.

Mostly, these days, to the grand Georgian church of St Mary-on-the-Quay, in Bristol. A hassle-free train journey through delightful countryside, to Brunel's great Temple Meads station, and a bus that runs every few minutes from the station forecourt to the church. Couldn't be easier.



The church appears to be staffed mainly by overseas priests: from the Philippines, I think, and from the Sub-Continent/Sri Lanka. The priests are very good, and always give words of encouragement and advice. Yesterday was a little different: an Irish priest, also very good and kind, with his own style of guidance. All most edifying.

Confessions take place during the daily half-hour of Solemn Exposition, and this is followed by a lunchtime Mass at 12.15, ideal for the local office-workers. Naturally there are quite a few pensioners in the congregation, but yesterday I particularly noticed that there were a number of young and youngish men. I thought that was really impressive. And for the first time I saw a woman wearing a mantilla. I wore a headscarf, and this is another of those things I rather like: when I am in a strange church in a different town, I don't feel at all embarrassed about covering my head. There's a feeling of being able to express one's devotion freely; none of this fear of being thought to be posing as an über-Catholic.


Images: Confessional, from Fr Z's blog; St Mary's, from geograph.org.uk. Both via Google Images.

Financial Support for the Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham

The Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham has not spent the £1 million transferred to it from the Confraternity of the Blessed Sacrament.

The full story is in The Church Times, and has been posted here, on the Ordinariate Portal blog.

In eternal terms, I think the Good Lord will provide the Ordinariate’s spiritual lifeblood. But a more prosaic form of lifeblood is derived from the financial support of its members and well-wishers. However modest each person’s donation may be, even a small amount each month, multiplied by as many donors as possible, will make a substantial contribution to the fruitfulness of the Ordinariate’s ministry.

Here are the links to the donation pages of the Ordinariate, and of the Friends of the Ordinariate. Donations can be made to either or both. I received the following explanation as to the difference between the two, in reply to an enquiry I made to the Friends:

“The difference of the two links is that the Ordinariate is for the support of the clergy for everyday expenses. The Friends Charity will give to the Ordinariate any projects it wants to do.”


Picture from catholicnews.org.uk via Google Images

“Why is Mary making that long journey with Joseph, and in her condition too?”

I have sometimes wondered what Mary’s female relations thought of Joseph for taking Mary with him on the long and arduous slog from Nazareth to Bethlehem. They were experienced enough to have a good idea of the advanced stage she had reached in her pregnancy. But I can imagine her keeping everything within her heart, as she is described as doing on other occasions; and as many of us know, women vary somewhat in their appearance at any given stage of pregnancy. There may thus have been some slight scope for uncertainty. Still, they must have been surprised, and probably worried, at the news that one or both of the couple were determined not to be parted at such a time.

We are told tantalisingly little about things that are not really important to us in the great scheme of the Incarnation. We can however consider those parts of the story that we are told, and can at least speculate, with faithfulness and within reason.

I am assuming that Mary and Joseph shared with one another all those words of the Angel which they considered themselves at liberty to share. Is that a reasonable assumption?

Did the Angel direct Joseph and/or Mary to go to Bethlehem so that the Anointed One would be born there, in order to fulfil the Scriptures?* There is no record of such a command in the Birth accounts of Matthew or of Luke.

I think it is very likely that they both knew about the Biblical prophecy. Did one or both of them decide, without the Angel’s guidance, that this was what they should do? I’m not sure about that. They knew they were the handmaid and the servant of the Lord; they may have simply waited for further guidance, for a clear pointer as to what they should do.

If this was in fact the course of action - of patient, expectant inaction - which they felt to be the right one, they certainly received that clear pointer when the Emperor’s edict was issued, requiring Joseph to travel to Bethlehem to be enrolled for the purposes of taxation.

Here is another of those fascinating glimpses we receive into the status of St Joseph. I published a post a little while ago drawing attention to his notable ancestry, in addition to his descent from King David. He must surely have held a position of some seniority in his extended family, that it should be necessary for him to be present in person in his ancestral town, or his own hometown, of Bethlehem.

But the timing of the journey was cutting it very fine. Did Mary’s family try to dissuade Joseph from taking Mary with him? I can see a picture in my mind, of Mary virtually coming to the rescue of Joseph, with words of calm determination that they would not be parted.

There is something else that emerges, I think, when one considers these events, and the extraordinary path along which Mary and Joseph’s special promises to one another were to lead them. It is the beautiful spirit of unity between them. To use a modern expression, they were soulmates; to a degree far beyond that which any other married couple had ever been or would be.


*Matthew 2:6, after Micah 5:2

Picture "Journey to Bethlehem" by Joseph Brickey, from sherriejohnson.blogspot.com, via Google Images

St Paul's Epistles in Chronological Sequence

After many years of reading the Jerusalem Bible, I bought the Catholic Revised Standard Version a few years ago. I wondered if the different translation would refresh my reading of Scripture. It certainly has, and I prefer it.

There is however one very useful aspect to my Jerusalem Bible. It is the standard edition, and it contains detailed introductions to particular groups of Books.

This post concerns the Letters of St Paul. I thought you might find it interesting to compare the Letters as printed in the Bible, with the order in which they were actually written, according to the introduction in the Jerusalem Bible. It may be, of course, that biblical scholarship has moved on in this respect since the JB was published in 1966. If so, I’m happy to be corrected on the dates.

The standard Biblical sequence is:

Romans
1 Corinthians
2 Corinthians
Galatians
Ephesians
Philippians
Colossians
1 Thessalonians
2 Thessalonians
1 Timothy
2 Timothy
Titus
Philemon
Hebrews

The Letters arranged by year are:

50-51: 1 and 2 Thessalonians
56-57: Philippians
57: 1 and 2 Corinthians
57-58: Galatians and Romans
61-63: Ephesians, Colossians and Philemon
65: 1 Timothy, Titus, 2 Timothy
67: Hebrews

I like to read the Letters in chronological sequence. I haven't made an in-depth study of them, and so I can’t put my finger on particular instances where it makes a difference, but I think there’s a sense of progression in them as the years go by. It seems to be worth doing, as an exercise if for no other reason.


Picture from thebloggingbrother.blogspot.com via Google Images

When Mary visited Elizabeth, did Joseph accompany her?

We know from Luke’s Gospel (1:39) that on being told by the Angel that her kinswoman Elizabeth has conceived a child in her old age, when everyone had thought her to be barren, “Mary arose and went with haste” to visit her.

So here we are, with Mary's sudden announcement that she wants to visit Elizabeth. Did she say why? She may not have felt herself authorised to reveal the reason. She is determined to set off at once on that long journey from Nazareth to the hill country of Judea.

She could not have travelled alone: that would surely have been unthinkable. Is it possible then that her betrothed husband Joseph took on the task of escorting her? And of returning at an agreed time to collect her and bring her back to Nazareth? It seems very probable to me.

If he did, it is likely that he witnessed some very strange things. He would have heard the extraordinary outburst from Elizabeth at the sound of Mary’s voice, and the outpouring of joy from his betrothed, echoing the words of Hannah, the mother of the prophet Samuel. He would have discovered that Elizabeth’s husband Zechariah had unaccountably been struck dumb in the Temple. Upon returning to Judea to bring Mary home, he would have learnt about – and may even have witnessed – the sudden return of Zechariah's power of speech, on the occasion of his son John’s naming and circumcision, and his beautiful prophecy about his child’s destiny.

And then home, and back to earth with a terrible jolt for poor Joseph. If Mary and he had made these journeys together, everyone in Nazareth would assume that Joseph was the father of Mary’s child. Only she and he knew differently; and at this point he, to his great distress, knew nothing at all.


Picture from catholicmom.com via Google Images

Some Thoughts on the Betrothal of Mary and Joseph (Part 2 of 2)

Following on from yesterday’s post, here are the betrothal references in Joseph’s story:

Matthew 1:18-25: "When His mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child of the Holy Spirit; and her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to send her away quietly.

"But as he considered this, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit; she will bear a son, and you shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.”

"All this took place to fulfil what the Lord had spoken by the prophet:

Behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and His name shall be called Emmanuel”
(which means, God with us).

"When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took his wife, but knew her not until she had borne a son #; and he called His name Jesus.”

# I ought to include the footnote that appears in my Bible : “This means only that Joseph had nothing to do with the conception of Jesus. It implies nothing as to what happened afterward.”

Finally, here is a telling word from Luke 2:5. At the time of Jesus’s birth, the evangelist continues to describe Mary and Joseph as “betrothed”, yet Joseph had by this time clearly taken her to their married home. It appears to have been done quietly, without celebration; perhaps for the sake of discretion, since the pregnancy would naturally have led their family and neighbours to believe that they were already living as man and wife.

Which gives rise to another speculation or two. More to come tomorrow.


Picture from thesacredpage.com via Google Images

Some Thoughts on the Betrothal of Mary and Joseph (Part 1 of 2)

I thought I would gather together all the Gospel references to the relationship of Mary and Joseph, and I’m glad I did.

But first, the Jewish Encyclopaedia has a fascinating article on betrothal. In addition to the interesting text, it contains a number of beautiful illustrations which are well worth seeing in their own right.

I’ve picked out the following words:

- Once they were betrothed, the couple “were considered as man and wife in all legal and religious aspects, except that of actual cohabitation.”

- Betrothal “is equivalent to an actual marriage and only to be dissolved by a formal divorce.”

- The period between betrothal and the formal hometaking (the completion of the marriage) was 12 months, or 30 days if either of the spouses had previously been widowed.

Set within this context, here are the Gospel references to Mary and Joseph’s relationship. First, Mary’s story.

Luke 1:27 describes Mary as “a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David.”

It is interesting and possibly significant that when the angel says in Luke 1:31, “You will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call His name Jesus”, he does not say that it will happen straight away, or indeed when it will happen.

Perhaps this sheds some light on Mary’s response to the angel (Luke 1:34): “How can this be [or “how will this be”], since I have no husband?” It is strange that she says she has no husband, at a time when she and Joseph are already husband and wife “in all legal and religious aspects, except that of actual cohabitation”. It has always seemed unlikely to me that Mary would have waited until after the “hometaking" to tell Joseph about her vow of virginity. Bearing in mind the Church’s teaching on the perpetual virginity of Our Lady, it feels as if this text contains a hint of a special understanding between them, of a kind that makes it necessary for her to ask the means by which the Lord has willed her to bear a son.

This is a long post, so I have split it and will continue it tomorrow.


Picture from bookdrum.com via Google Images

The Flight, the Massacre, the Return - but to Where?

Today’s Feast of the Holy Innocents reminds me of my reluctance to dwell on this appalling episode in the infancy of Our Lord. So if you’ll excuse me, I won’t. I’ll talk round it instead, concentrating on other related verses.

There are elements of St Matthew’s account of this period in the life of the Holy Family which I find really intriguing. The following rather scattery reflections are very much of the “lounge bar of the local” variety; not at all a work of academic research; and they will be well known to you. But here goes.

St Luke (1:39) says that Zechariah and Elizabeth lived in a town in the hill country of Judea. This must have been close enough to Jerusalem to enable Zachariah to travel there fairly easily to carry out his priestly duties when his turn came round.

There is no more detail concerning the location of their town; we do not know how close it was to the Judean town of Bethlehem.

After Jesus’s birth in the stable in Bethlehem, Mary and Joseph appear to have stayed there for some time, rather than returning to Nazareth. The account of the visit of the Magi describes their dwelling not as a stable but as a house (Matthew 2:11), which implies that the census crowds had departed and they had found a place that was comfortable for the baby and convenient for Joseph to ply his trade as a carpenter.

Warned by the angel of Herod’s murderous plan, the little family fled to Egypt. Herod “sent and killed all the male children in Bethlehem and in all that region who were two years old or under” (Matthew 2:16). At this point, therefore, Jesus was evidently up to two years of age.

This brings me back to Elizabeth and Zechariah. Was their Judean hill-country home “in the Bethlehem region”, and thus within the search and kill range of Herod’s troops? If not, my train of thought is irrelevant. But if it was within range, was John, who was six months older than Jesus, older than the age of two at the time of the massacre, and therefore old enough to escape the work of the killers?

If John was older than two years old, Jesus would have been quite a toddler by then, and He and His parents well settled into their life in Bethlehem. Did Mary and Joseph choose to live there because of the ancient prophecy (Matthew 2:4-6, quoting Micah 5:2)? Had the angel commanded Joseph (or both of them) to do so? Did they stay because it was Joseph’s ancestral home, and possibly (or probably) Mary’s too? In view of the circumstances of Jesus’s conception and birth - almost certainly unknown to everyone else except Elizabeth - did they decide to stay away from Nazareth for the sake of discretion? Did they choose Bethlehem because they could be near to Elizabeth and her own very special son?

And then there is the final detail in this little investigative and conjectural trail. It appears that when Herod had died and it was safe for the Holy Family to return, their intention was to settle once again in Bethlehem. At least, that is the way I read it, from Matthew 2:22-23: “But when [Joseph] heard that Archelaus reigned over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there and being warned in a dream he withdrew to the district of Galilee, and he went and dwelt in a city called Nazareth, that what was spoken by the prophets might be fulfilled. ‘He shall be called a Nazarene.’ ”

I’ve enjoyed gathering these threads together, and I hope you too will find them interesting.

Later: I’ve just thought of something else. If they had returned to live in Bethlehem, they would have been the only family, aside from a few others who might have migrated into the town, who had a male child within the age-range of the massacre. In the event of any subsequent attacks of royal paranoia, Jesus would have been very conspicuous.

Christmas wishes, and the genealogy of Our Lady

A very happy Christmas to all my readers!

Continuing the theme of genealogy from my last post, the following is well-known from our Scriptural readings, but I thought I would just dwell on it for a few minutes.

St Luke’s Gospel contains very interesting references to the ancestral connections of Our Lady, as well as those of St Joseph. I say connections, because we do not know the precise details, and family trees can be very complicated things, especially, for example, if step-fathers have been recorded as fathers.

Firstly, as I understand it the customary practice was to marry within one’s tribe or extended family. If this is so of Mary and Joseph, the Davidic ancestry which is recorded in regard to Joseph may well have been shared by Mary.

Secondly, further light is shed on Mary’s connections when we consider the details recorded about her kinswoman Elizabeth. Elizabeth was the wife of a priest, and was herself a descendant of the brother of Moses, the great Aaron, the first High Priest.

In themselves these details do not prove the direct priestly and royal ancestry of Mary, but it is wonderful to think that this young girl, leading her quiet life in Nazareth, far away from the hub of things, may well have inherited the blood of these two major figures of Jewish history and of God’s dealings with His chosen people.



Picture from prepareformass.wordpress.com, via Google Images

Raising up the Temple and the Altar of God

The differing genealogies of St Joseph are intriguing, and various theories have been put forward to account for the differences. It has even been suggested that one genealogy is in fact that of our Lady. But that seems far-fetched. It seems more likely that Joseph had more than one ancestral line, and these have simply been recorded as they existed. The most reasonable explanation is surely the inclusion in one or other version - or both - of collateral ancestors who married widowed sisters-in-law.

However, the reason for this post is a passage I came across in the Book of Ezra. Following the return from the Babylonian captivity, among those entrusted with rebuilding the Altar of God and the Temple of the Lord, was one Zerubbabel, the son of Shealtiel. Hello, I thought, as I read this; I know those names. The first thing that came to mind was the genealogies of St Joseph; and the names are there, in both Matthew’s and Luke’s versions.

There is an inclination to think of artisans as somewhat down the social scale; an idea which I find very annoying, and it is hard to believe that this was the case in ancient times. I think it adds a background to St Joseph which sheds light on his considerable stature as a Jew, in addition to all that we revere him for in relation to his loving care for Jesus and Mary. It is a great and a noble thing to have as one’s ancestors those who built up the Altar and the Temple, and to be entrusted with an even more exalted work of raising up.



Picture from st-joseph-medal-com, via Google Images