Meditating on the Glorious Mysteries

The final set of points for meditation.  I remember one of my teachers comparing the Joyful and Glorious Mysteries.  She said that whereas each of the Joyful Mysteries had its dark side, the spirit of the Glorious Mysteries was one of unalloyed happiness.  I accepted this for some time; but later, when I started to experience the Mysteries as real events, in which I was involved, I began to feel a sense of grief and loss, in the midst of joy, when reflecting on Christ's Ascension into Heaven.  It still hits me on every Feast of the Ascension, that sensation of being bereft, and in fact I shed tears at the thought of it.  It makes me wonder how the Apostles felt:  wrapt in the glory of it, surely, and yet with breaking hearts because in all the remaining years of their lives they would see Him no more.

It was some years later that I began to experience something of the same feeling when meditating on the Mystery of the Assumption of Our Lady.  The disciples must have loved her so much, both for herself and as the Mother of the dear Lord. The things they must have learnt from her! And what sorrow they must have felt when her life came to its end.  It is hard to find appropriate words when speculating on the effect upon them of the astonishing sequel.  All I can think of is that it would have been so overwhelming that it dried their tears instantly, and that their sorrow was transformed into awe.

The Resurrection
“He is not here; for He has risen as He said.” (Matthew 27:6)
“Go quickly and tell His disciples.” (Matthew 27:7)
“Jesus came and stood among them.” (John 20:19)
“Put out your hand, and place it in My side.” (John 20:27)

The Ascension
“I go to prepare a place for you.” (John 14:2-3)
“If I do not go away, the Counsellor will not come to you.” (John 16:7)
“While He blessed them, He parted from them …”
“… and was carried up into heaven.” (Luke 24:51)

The Coming of the Holy Spirit
“I will send Him to you.” (John 16:7)
“All He tells you will be taken from what is Mine.” (John 16:15)
“He will guide you into all the truth.” (John 16:13)
“I will pour out My Spirit; and they shall prophesy.” (Acts 2:18, after Joel 2:28)

The Assumption of Our Lady
Mary’s earthly life is at an end.
Body and soul, she is taken to heaven ... (Pius XII: Munificentissimus Deus, and Holy Tradition)
... and is with her Son once more.
“Blessed be her glorious Assumption.” (The Divine Praises)

The Coronation of Our Lady in Heaven
“Hail, holy Queen, Mother of Mercy!” (Salve Regina)
The glory of the Saints.
Our friends in heaven.
Eternal joy.

Meditating on the Sorrowful Mysteries

Here is my selection of points for meditation when I pray the Sorrowful Mysteries.

It was surprisingly hard to find four directly relevant Gospel texts for The Scourging at the Pillar and The Crowning with Thorns.  I approached the problem by including texts that illustrate the dreadful scenes in which these Mysteries are set.  When I reflect on them, I am very much aware of the fast-moving sequence of events leading to the Crucifixion. 

The Agony in the Garden
“Father, if You are willing, remove this chalice.” (Luke 22:42)
“Not My will, but Yours, be done.” (Luke 22:42)
He finds the disciples “sleeping from sorrow.” (Luke 22:45)
“See, My betrayer is at hand.” (Matthew 26:46)

The Scourging at the Pillar
“The man has done nothing that deserves death.” (Luke 22:15)
“I shall have Him flogged and then let Him go.” (Luke 22:16)
“If you release Him, you are not Caesar’s friend!” (John 19:12)
Jesus is then scourged and mocked. (John 19:1-3)

The Crowning with Thorns
Wearing His crown, Jesus is presented to the priests. (John 19:14)
“Do you want me to crucify your King?” (John 19:15)
“We have no king but Caesar!” (John 19:16)
“I am innocent of this righteous man’s blood.” (Matthew 27:24)

The Carrying of the Cross
“He went out, bearing His own Cross.” (John 19:17)
Simon of Cyrene is forced to carry it for Him. (Matthew 27:32)
“There followed Him a great multitude of the people ...”
“ … and of women who bewailed and lamented Him.” (Luke 23:27)

The Crucifixion
He gave His life “as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:28)
“The Lamb of God, Who takes away the sin of the World.” (John 1:29)
“Not a bone of Him shall be broken.” (John 19:36; Exodus 12:46; Numbers 9:12; Psalm 34:20)
“They will look on Him Whom they have pierced.” (John 19:37; Zechariah 12:10)

Meditating on the Luminous Mysteries

A very happy new year to all my readers.  And a wish for stout hearts for those of us in the United Kingdom, for whom, given the present government's attitudes and plans, there may be trouble ahead ...

Following on from yesterday's post about the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary, here is my selection of mini-texts for praying the Luminous Mysteries.  I have been reluctant to include these Mysteries in my Rosary prayers up to now, but the exercise of gathering the points for meditation has been a great help; I have warmed to them, and now feel comfortable in praying them. 

The biggest challenge, I found, was to try to home in on the essence of "The Proclamation of the Kingdom".  Of all the Luminous Mysteries, this one has caused me the most difficulty in the past.  The Lord proclaimed the Kingdom in so many ways: the Parables, the Sermon on the Mount, the various miracles.  What could I actually focus on?  What could be said to be the nub of it, for the purpose of prayer and meditation?  At least, for me personally.  We all have our own ideas, and I decided to concentrate on the ones here; but they're not set in stone, and I may change them as time goes on.

The decision to keep to five lines for each Mystery (with each group of five repeated to accompany the ten Hail Marys) was somewhat forced on me by the simple fact that I could not find nine suitable texts (plus the title) for each of the twenty Mysteries.  I think this solution is a good practical one.

The Baptism by John in the Jordan
“Behold the Lamb of God!” (John 1: 29 & 36)
“I should be baptised by You, and You come to me?” (Matthew 3:14)
"This is My beloved Son.” (Matthew 3:17)
“Elijah has come, and they did not know him.” (Matthew 17:12)

The Wedding Feast at Cana
“They have no wine.” (John 2:3)
“My hour has not yet come.” (John 2:4)
“Do whatever He tells you.” (John 2:5)
“You have kept the good wine till now!” (John 2:10)

The Proclamation of the Kingdom
“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” (Matthew 4:17)
“They shall all be taught by God.” (John 6:45, after Isaiah 54:13)
“Who can forgive sins but God alone?” (Mark 2:7)
“Upon this Rock I will build My Church.” (Matthew 16:18)

The Transfiguration
“We were with Him on the holy mountain.” (2 Peter 1:18)
“He was transformed in their presence.” (Matthew 17:2)
Moses and Elijah “appeared in glory …”
“… and spoke of His exodus which He was to accomplish.” (Luke 9:31)

The Institution of the Eucharist
“The bread I shall give for the life of the world is My flesh.” (John 6:51)
“Take, eat; this is My Body.” (Matthew 26:26)
“This chalice which is poured out for you …”
“… is the new covenant in My blood.” (Luke 22:20)

Meditating on the Joyful Mysteries

I continue to be plagued by a tendency for my thoughts to drift off while saying my prayers.  One of the oddest things about it is the realisation that my brain is carrying out two functions at once.  When my attention returns to what I should be doing, I find I have come to the end of a particular prayer, or all my morning prayers, or a decade of the Rosary.  So part of my brain has been saying the words all through my wanderings.

When saying the Rosary, I find it helps enormously if I have a little phrase, mostly from Scripture or sometimes from some other devotional source, to pin down the flighty half of my mind while I say the prayers for each Mystery.

We are all different, and certain things resonate with one person while others are more inspiring for another person, or at another time.  And that's absolutely fine.   I thought you might be interested in what I have selected for my own meditation on the Joyful Mysteries.  I keep tinkering with them, but this is the current version.  For each Mystery, I meditate on the title and four phrases, and I do this twice, so that there is a line to occupy my mind for each Hail Mary.  I rather like the repetition; it seems to reinforce the meditation.

The Annunciation to Mary
“Hail, full of grace!” (Luke 1:28)
“Be it done unto me according to your word.” (Luke 1:38)
He shall be called “God with us.” (Matthew 1:23)
“And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt amongst us.” (John 1:14)

The Visitation to Elizabeth
“How is this, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” (Luke 1:43)
“The child in my womb leapt for joy.” (Luke 1:44)
“My soul magnifies the Lord.” (Luke 1:46)
“He has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy.” (Luke 1:54)

The Nativity of Our Lord
Joseph and Mary “went up to the City of David.” (Luke 2:4)
“There was no room for them at the inn.” (Luke 2:7)
She wrapped her Son, and laid Him in a manger. (Luke 2:7)
The shepherds “went with haste” to see the Child. (Luke 2:16)

The Presentation of Jesus
“They brought Him to Jerusalem to present Him to the Lord.” (Luke 2:22)
“My eyes have seen Your salvation.” (Luke 2:30)
The light of the Gentiles, and the glory of Israel. (Luke 2:32)
They “marvelled at what was said about Him.” (Luke 2:33)

The Finding in the Temple
“The boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem.” (Luke 2:43)
The teachers “were amazed at His understanding.” (Luke 2:47)
“Your father and I have sought You, sorrowing.” (Luke 2:48)
“I must be about My Father’s business.” (Luke 2:49)

The Kindness of the Innkeeper's Wife

God bless us, every one!

The only character I ever played in a school Nativity play was the innkeeper's wife.  I haven't read the Holy Father's new book on the Infancy of Christ, so I don't know if he mentions the innkeeper and his wife among those persons and animals who are absent from the Birth narratives in the Gospels. 

On account of the crowds that had arrived in Bethlehem for the census, there was no room for Mary and Joseph at the inn; and so they had to make the best of things in a stable.  It is interesting to let one's imagination roam over this scene.  Let us, in particular, consider the innkeeper's wife.  There must surely have been such a person, a capable woman, knowledgeable in the ways of the world as well as in the business of childbirth.  As soon as she saw Mary, she would have assessed her condition in an instant.  Clearly this poor young woman was not fit to go a step further.  But "there was no room."  Perhaps literally so; or perhaps in the very practical sense of there being no possibility of privacy for the dramatic business of childbirth.

The idea of a stable is pretty grim.  How big was the stable?  Was it divided into stalls?  Some of the guests might have arrived on horseback, in which case many of the stalls would have been occupied by their horses, with their associated sounds and smells.  Did other animals share the stable, in particular the ox and the ass, those beloved creatures of our Crib scenes?  This imagined stable is getting to be quite a lot bigger than the one we are used to from the traditional illustrations.

Let us, for the sake of this exercise, imagine one of the stalls, swept and made ready in haste by the good innkeeper's wife: a little private space, its floor covered with new straw, its manger lined with fresh hay.  I can see her escaping from her domestic duties at intervals, to see how things were progressing, and to check that the couple were warm and had enough to eat and drink.

And then, the moment she had been looking forward to.  Was she present at the birth?  The instincts of an experienced mother would naturally be on the alert and ready to help with the arrival of a young woman's firstborn, especially when the young mother was so far from the comforts of home and family.

In the midst of that busy time, with so many guests to attend to, I'd like to think that this good woman experienced the delight and joy of the occasion, and a sense of modest satisfaction that she had done her best in difficult circumstances.

I wonder what she thought when a group of shepherds turned up at the door in the early hours, with a very strange story, asking to see the baby?

Jesus our Emmanuel

I remember reading, long ago, that in certain instances where the Scriptures spoke of a person being called by a name, it was not merely an identifying label.  It was a statement of the inmost reality of that person: the purity of his or her identity, known only to God.

In the life of Our Lord Jesus, we know that only one of His given names was His name in the normal earthly sense.  In St Luke's account of the Annunciation, Mary is given three names by the Angel:  "You shall call His name Jesus;" "He will be called the Son of the Most High;" "The child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God."

In St Matthew's account of the revelation to St Joseph, we are told the significance of the names "Jesus" and Emmanuel":  "You shall call His name Jesus, for he will save His people from their sins." ( I understand that the name means "The Lord is salvation".)  Matthew then says, "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).' "

In Chapter 6, verse 45 of St John's Gospel, in that extraordinary encounter in which Christ speaks of His flesh as the bread of life, He says

"It is written by the Prophets, 'And they shall all be taught by God.' Everyone who has heard and learnt from the Father comes to Me.  Not that anyone has seen the Father except Him Who is from God; He has seen the Father."

I wish all my readers a very happy and blessed Christmas.

The Original Countercultural Father

I have borrowed "Countercultural Father" from Ben Trovato, the paterfamilias whose excellent blog has that name. 

Lately, I have been doing some work on the Mysteries of the Rosary: specifically, writing down short snatches of text to help me to meditate as I pray the Mysteries.

A few minites ago, while continuing this task I had set myself, I was re-reading the account of the angels' appearance to the shepherds, to announce the birth of Christ.  To these ordinary chaps, probably with minimal education, the Heavenly message is given in all its richness and theological depth:

Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people; for to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour Who is Christ the Lord."

This is not the only occasion on which God speaks to mankind in such a countercultural fashion.  At the other end of Christ's earthly life - indeed, a step beyond the end - the Resurrection is first announced to a few of the Lord's female disciples, who have come with such loving devotion to tend to His corpse.  They are the people whom the Apostles are least likely to believe.

God chooses His hearers and His messengers, as He knows best.


Picture from whatsaiththescripture.com, via Google Images

Fresh Air and the Natural Law

Pastor Emeritus has given me a gentle reminder, for which I am grateful, that it has been a few weeks since my last post.  During the interval my husband and I have been away on a lovely week's holiday in the clear fresh air of the delightful little coastal town of St Ives, in Cornwall.  While every day's weather forecast predicted lashing wind and storms, in fact we had an entire week of mild, dry weather, with only one windy day.  A charming little Catholic church, dedicated to the Sacred Heart and St Ia, with beautiful Stations of the Cross.  Row upon row of houses clustering in higgledy-piggledy terraces, clinging to every available shelf of the steep slopes up from the bay.  Great exercise to walk up and down, but I fear my knee-joints will take some time to recover.

However, back to business. 

I have occasionally seen rather dismissive references to the Church's appeals to Natural Law arguments in promoting or defending Her moral teachings.  I think the core of the criticism was usually that the concept of Natural Law, being derived - I think - from Greek philosophy, was a type of accretion.  The objectors maintained that its adoption was therefore both post-Scriptural (Thomist, I believe, though it may have featured in earlier centuries) and indeed unscriptural.  If I have misunderstood anything in the foregoing, I shall be very happy to be corrected.

The idea of Natural Law, pure and simple, has always seemed very logical to me.  But it was when reading a certain passage in the new Testament that I became aware of its presence in the words of Our Lord.  Following His rejection of the Jewish traditions regarding divorce and remarriage, He was asked some searching questions.  It was in one of these exchanges, in Matthew, Chapter 19,  that I suddenly made the connection with Natural Law:

"Have you not read that He Who who made them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, 'For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one'?  So they are no longer two but one." ...... "For your hardness of heart Moses allowed you to divorce your wives, but from the beginning it was not so."

What was so from the beginning, and what was not so.  I had the impression not only of the beginning of history according to the Biblical account of creation, but also of  the beginning in the sense of the mind of the Creator at our creation; in His fundamental blueprint of the nature of man, woman and their partnership. 

Words from the Word Himself, who was with God, and was God, from the beginning.  Since gaining what I felt and still feel was a most helpful insight, I have never felt any disjointedness between the Gospel and Natural Law.



Picture from Wikipedia

Shoulderings, Part 3 of 3: The Garment

And then there is the garment, or robe. A strange thing to consider in regard to shouldering a burden, but please bear with me.

I should mention at the start that I haven't included St Paul's references to the wearing of armour, except incidentally in one quotation.  I'm considering the garment as the sign of conversion and faith, of the joy of repentance and forgiveness, of responsibility, and of glory.

Conversion and faith
Here is a stern warning in Matthew 22: 11-14: “But when the king came in to look at the guests, he saw there a man who had no wedding garment; and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?’ And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and cast him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ For many are called, but few are chosen.”

There is a helpful footnote to this text in my Bible: “The wedding garment represents the dispositions necessary for admission to the kingdom”.

The joy of repentance and forgiveness
Here is the beautiful conclusion to the parable of the Prodigal Son, in Luke 15:21-24: “And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet; and bring the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and make merry; for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ ”

Responsibility
This is a mixture of Scripture and personal anecdote.  Here is St Paul to the Romans (13:11-14):
"... You know what hour it is, how it is full time now for you to wake from sleep.  For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed; the night is far gone, the day is at hand.  Let us then cast off the works of darkness and put on the armour of light; let us conduct ourselves becomingly as in the day, not in revelling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy.  But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires."

The idea of putting on Christ, like a garment, is a vivid and indeed a physical image.  "Image" it may be, but St Paul seems to be urging it as a reality: that virtue - in its original meaning of strength and manliness - is a spiritual garment; that Christ Himself is our garment and our virtue.  That when we try to do good and avoid wrongdoing, it is a manifestation of that garment resting on our shoulders.

And now the personal anecdote.  I'm rather prone to daydreaming.  A bad habit in many ways, but occasionally it is more considered and it leads to some useful reflections.  This particular one, which was rather gloomy, ended with a heartfelt little prayer of that odd sort we make up ourselves, barely articulate:  "I'm just a bit of rubbish."  I'm making no claims for what came next, because it sounded suspiciously like my very own voice in my head:  "Yes, but you're My bit of rubbish; so put this robe on."  Well, the first idea made me laugh; but the second gave me quite a start.  Interestingly, it was this experience that prompted the reflections that led  to this series of posts on the various kinds of shoulderings.

But back to the robe or garment.  I can't back this up with any quotation, but it feels as though each person's garment is perfectly suited to that individual.  Also, that it is a working garment, laid on our shoulders for a purpose. Each of us is to be , in an important or obscure way, an envoy, an ambassador. 

By temperament I am nearer to the unconfident end of the scale. With that in mind, if it were only me doing this work of giving witness, it would be utterly daunting. But I now try to think of myself as wearing this robe, at moments when I would otherwise quail and retreat; and there is a dignity about the knowledge of it, and a kindliness, and these qualities are not mine, but the Lord’s, to Whom the garment really belongs. It is one of those surprising little joys of life to have become aware of this.

Glory
It was while I was mulling over this little series that I was reminded of another robe, in a much darker scene. Here it is, in John 19:2-6: “The soldiers plaited a crown of thorns, and put it on His head, and clothed Him in a purple robe; they came up to Him, saying, ‘Hail, King of the Jews!’ and struck Him with their hands. Pilate went out again, and said to them, ‘Behold, I am bringing Him out to you, that you may know that I find no crime in Him.’ So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, ‘Here is the man!’ When the chief priests and the officers saw Him they cried out, ‘Crucify Him, crucify Him!’ ” 

The soldiers used the robe to mock what they had been told about Jesus, and the crown of thorns both to mock and to torture Him. In the minds of the Jewish leaders it probably went too close for comfort, contributing to the frenzy of their rejection.  As for us, we see the Suffering King, His suffering inseparable from His kingship.  This is a dark glory.

In happy contrast, another Scriptural passage has been brought to my mind.  This one concerns a garment of unalloyed glory. It is from Revelation 19:7-8: “ ‘The marriage of the Lamb has come, and His Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to be clothed with fine linen, bright and pure’ – for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.”  If I'm to get my fine linen, it's definitely a work in progress ...


Finally ...
...  to tie everything in this series together, there is a phrase from the New Testament which occurred to me while I was writing these posts: “The weight of glory”. These words appear in St Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians (4:16-18), and they seem to link together the different kinds of shoulderings: the unseeing quality of our lives, like the lives of the oxen; the affliction of our personal crosses; and the glory the Lord intends for us.

“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer man is wasting away, our inner man is being renewed every day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, because we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen; for the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”



Picture from oneyearbibleblog.com, via Google Images

Shoulderings, Part 2 of 3: The Cross

The cross, and indeed the Cross. Luke 9:23: “If any man would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me.” Matt 10:38: “He who does not take his cross and follow Me is not worthy of Me.” Very sobering, that second one.

And then there is the Cross, on that dreadful journey to Calvary. Matthew 27:32: “As they were marching out, they came upon a man of Cyrene, Simon by name; this man they compelled to carry His cross.”   The second and third accounts of the scene each add a detail.  Mark 15:21: “And they compelled a passer-by, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to carry His cross”; Luke 23:26: “And as they led Him away, they seized one Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, and laid on him the cross, to carry it behind Jesus.” 

Several years ago I heard some words in a young priest’s homily which have remained with me ever since. He said, “For each of us, the cross is that thing which we would least wish to bear.”*

Simon most certainly did not want to bear it. He was forced.

St Alphonsus Liguori, in his reflection on the fifth Station of the Cross, attributes the conscription of Simon to the fear of the Jewish leaders that Jesus would die on the way to Calvary, when they wished him to die an ignominious death on the cross. This passage gave rise to a strange experience some weeks ago, when I was standing at the fifth Station in the church of St Mary-on-the-Quay in Bristol.

In this representation, Simon is bent forward with the full weight of the cross on his back. He has turned his face in our direction, to look up at Jesus, Who is walking beside him. I had a horrible intuition from the look on Simon’s face: he knew all too well that this was no act of compassion he had been forced to undertake. He was carrying the cross so that in a little while Jesus would undergo a far, far more terrible agony. He was in fact making it worse for Jesus. And he knew it. Perhaps this was one of the reasons for his unwillingness: a sense of desperate pity that would have preferred the poor suffering Man to die quickly under the weight of the cross, and get it over with. But Simon had no choice. The sheer awfulness of it suddenly became very real to me. You never know what will come to you when you follow the Stations of the Cross.





*As a matter of interest, the priest was Dom Paul Gunter, who is now the Secretary of the Liturgy Commission of the Bishops of England and Wales.

Picture from communio.stblogs.org, via Google Images

Shoulderings, Part 1 of 3: The Yoke

I thought I would gather together some of the passages in the New Testament which refer to the shouldering of a load. It is not a complete collection, but I thought you might like to see the results. It’s quite long, so I’ve divided it into three instalments.

The Yoke

Matthew 11:28-30: “Come to Me, all you who labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Shoulder My yoke, and learn from Me; for I am gentle and humble of heart; and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden light.”

When we think about it, that is a most astonishing thing for a wandering preacher to say. It pierces to our hearts; what must it have been like for those who heard these words actually spoken by Jesus?

To people in Britain, the idea of the yoke tends to conjure up the solitary yoke of the milkmaid. The older ones among us may remember the large roadside advertisements, showing the Ovaltine milkmaid. I don’t know why it took me so long, but I must have been in my forties when I first began to associate the yoke of Christ with the shared yoke of the oxen.

I have heard it said that the farmer takes an ox that is new to the work and teams it with a more experienced animal. As they go along, the older ox guides and supports his partner. Thus the weaker partner is never left to cope alone; and neither are we.

Another important feature is that the oxen cannot see behind them. Their work is just to go on, ploughing the land. It is the farmer who decides what to plant, sows it, waters it and harvests it. I suppose it never occurs to the oxen that the crops are the fruit of their labours. But perhaps the Lord may grant us a glimpse, one day, of the harvest - whether small or great - that has been gathered from our unseeing efforts.


Picture from mysticalchrist.wordpress.com, via Google Images

A Sword for the Heart of St Joseph

The sword spoken of by the prophet Simeon, on the occasion of the presentation of the infant Jesus in the Temple – the sword that was to pierce the heart of Mary – was surely not the only sword. St Joseph was also to receive a blow to his heart; but unlike Our Lady’s, his sword is not referred to specifically.

St Luke provides us with the dramatic account of the disappearance of the twelve-year-old Jesus, at the end of His family’s pilgrimage to Jerusalem. His distressed parents, after three days of searching, discover Him in the Temple, among the teachers, who are astounded at His understanding.

Mary: “Son, why have You treated us so? Behold, Your father and I have been looking for You anxiously” Or, to use another translation, which I think has more impact, “Behold, Thy father and I have sought Thee, sorrowing.”

Jesus: “How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be in My Father’s house?” Or, as I recall from another version. “Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?”

There are a few things I’d like to consider in this exchange. Firstly, it gives a strong impression that Mary and Joseph had not told Jesus about the uniqueness of His origin. Jesus seems to have been raised as an ordinary child of ordinary parents, being brought up to love Joseph in the most natural way, as His father. They gave everything else into the hands of the Lord, to reveal in His own good time.

After three days of desperate worry, having lost not only their beloved son but the precious child entrusted to them by God, Mary and Joseph find Him in the most unexpected of places: among the doctors of the Law. Not only this, but discussing holy matters with them, and, to cap it all, more than holding His own, and amazing these learned men with the breadth and depth of His knowledge.

Our Blessed Lady, in her understandable distress, speaks to Jesus of her bewilderment that He should have done such a thing to her and to St Joseph. How could He cause such sorrow to His mother, and to His father?

Here I am going to make what may appear to be a slight digression. I understand that some scholars of the New Testament take the view that Jesus did not know Who He was: at least, before this or that point in His life. I’m no scholar of the Scriptures, merely a reader, but this doesn't ring true to me. I have the impression that while there are certainly passages in which - to use the best expression I can think of - He seems to hold a veil between His earthly mind and His divine consciousness, there are many others in which Our Lord Jesus speaks as though He clearly knows exactly Who He is. I feel sure that the incident of the finding in the Temple is the first recorded manifestation of Jesus’s knowledge of Himself; a manifestation which must have come as a jolt to Mary and Joseph.

“Thy father and I have sought Thee, sorrowing.” “I must be about My Father’s business.” This from a twelve-year-old boy, whose distraught parents have just found him after three frantic days of searching. I think this must have pierced their hearts; and on this occasion most poignantly the loving heart of Joseph, who was the best of earthly fathers to Him, and would continue to be so.



Picture from catholicsource.net, 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 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

“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.