Interesting iconography. The scroll signifies St Anne's religious education of Mary. Sometimes St Anne is holding a book. At first glance, the scroll looked like part of St Anne's girdle, a symbol of maternity. Girdles of local women saints were popular medieval relics sought by pregnant women. I wonder if the artist intended that double meaning.
I like the idea of St. Anne teaching Mary and nurturing her much better than the non-canonical story where her parents hand her off to the temple at age three to be raised there. Always thought that was highly unlikely.
There was a large old print in the family with the same theme. In this case, St. Anne is teaching Mary Holy Scripture using a codex instead of a scroll.. It came into my hands following my aunt's and mother's deaths. My cousin in FL loved the picture and I sent it to her.
How can St. Anne be in the canon? She is never mentioned in the New Testament. For that matter, there are very few references to Mary, and none of those mention her death, or the assumption of her body. Yes, I know about Tradition with a capital T. I first learned about the role of oral tradition in Catholicism as long ago as third grade, But one can see why the sola scriptura Protestants are sceptical about some Catholic teachings. I have read that Anne is mentioned in the gospel of James, but that gospel not in the canon. The immaculate conception is also not in scripture. It is the result of theological reasoning, but arrived at without any actual written foundation.
Hagiography is not for anybody who wants a lot of proof and documentation. (I recently watched an interesting mini documentary on incorruptibility of the body, once the ultimate sign of sanctity. It's complicated ...) Some lives are so heavily encrusted with apocryphal stories that the real person underneath is lost (Ss Anne, Swithun). Other lives are likely pure fabrications (Ss George, Christopher, Veronica).
I have no problem with venerating any of these folks, real or imagined. They fill the need for folks to imagine how someone in their circumstances might live a Christian life.
I have, at times, prayed to St Elizabeth. We know nothing about her other than that she was the elderly mother of John the Baptist. I always felt that she would understand my particular challenges as someone in her late 40s and 50s dealing with a kid who was something of an oddball livewire.
The way I look at it, Mary had parents. That is a fact that we can know is true, even though written records were sketchy or non-existent back then. As they say, "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree"; I think I am safe in believing that Mary's mother and father were good people. As to the Protoevangelium of James, don't get me started. The kindest thing I can say about it is that it is pious fan fiction. I have listened to enough homilies cherry picking factoids from it to make me blue in the face, including one last Thursday. If you want to read something wild and kind of creepy, check out the Nativity of Jesus narrative in the Protoevangelium. Or better yet, don't.
I was staying in a hotel in downtown Omaha when this feast occurred, a couple of days ago. There was a Catholic church visible from my hotel window, so I walked over there for an early morning mass. Unfortunately, there was no music at the mass - typical, of course, for a parish weekday mass; it was unfortunate because singing Marian songs is about 3/4 of the fun of celebrating a Marian feast. Still, in his homily, the priest invited us to join in spontaneously on an a cappella verse of Hail Holy Queen (enthroned above...). Some of us knew it. I think of that hymn as being at the "other end" of Mary's life's journey, but that's ok.
The priest also noted, in his opening remarks (which almost served as a mini-homily in their own right), that the church, on its liturgical calendar, commemorates the births of three persons: Jesus, Mary and John the Baptist. He sees that as a mark of the significance of those three persons, which seems a fair observation. In the same remarks, he also pointed out that the Birth of Mary lands precisely nine months after the Immaculate Conception. That gives rise to the thought (which he didn't express - this is me talking now) that, of those three personages, the church's calendar celebrates the conceptions of two of them, Jesus and Mary, even though the circumstances of the latter's conception are not related in scripture, whereas the story of John the Baptist's conception is told in Luke's Gospel. I guess we conclude that, for whatever reason, the story of Zechariah, Elizabeth and their son John didn't capture people's imaginations sufficiently to warrant its own feast day. But curiously, the beheading of John the Baptist, vividly recounted in Mark's Gospel, is given a date on the church's calendar. Go figure.
What parish did you attend Mass at, Jim? We didn't have music at our Mass here, either. If it had been one of the Marian holy days of obligation, I'm sure I would have been playing Hail Holy Queen for an exit hymn!
Katherine - it was Mary Magdalene Parish, at 20th and Dodge. Across the street (kitty-corner) was a large school which I think I subsequently figured out was Omaha Central High School. Our hotel was at 18th and Douglas.
The priest apparently was African, but I didn't catch his name. The folks at the daily mass was what one might expect to see in a downtown parish on a weekday: some retirees, and a few working people stopping in before their workday started. One or two of the latter were young adults, which was nice to see.
Mary Magdalene is a historic church in Omaha. I don't know if it still does, but it used to have the most Masses scheduled on a weekend of any of the churches in Omaha. Probably not so many now with the priest shortage that affects all the parishes. It used to be known for the speediest Masses, in and out in 20 minutes, and no music or frills in those! But funny how a lot of people liked that. About the priest shortage, we had an unexpected vacancy in our town, fortunately not our parish. The bottom line is that the three parishes here and two smaller towns are in a cluster or "family", and will share three priests (and three retired priests) one of whom will be the main pastor. All five parishes will have to lose one weekend Mass each.
About Central High School, that building used to be the state capitol, before the capital city was changed to Lincoln. So for historic reasons, the building will always be maintained rather than replaced. (I know, people back east laugh at our "historic" buildings, compared to those in Boston and New York.)
Yes, somehow my wife and learned about the reputation of that parish for speedy masses. Of course, liturgists frown on that sort of thing, but for a downtown parish, where workers have to adhere to a schedule, it's a blessing. We were in tourist mode, but it was a blessing for me, too, because it allowed us to get on to our next activity (which, for us, was checking out and leaving, but we had a very long drive in front of us that day).
That high school building was so impressive, I thought at first it must be city hall or the courthouse or something similar. But then I saw the long line of young-looking people wearing backpacks streaming up the steps at 7:30 am. The building is so grand-looking, I thought it must be a college (my wife had mentioned that Creighton was around there somewhere). Google Maps told me that it's a high school.
Age-wise, I thought Omaha looked a lot like my hometown in Michigan (but with a much bigger and nicer downtown area :-)). Yes, it's not as old as Boston, but it's clearly a city with some history and roots. And a nice zoo!
I know liturgists frown on speedy Masses, but I actually think they are fine, especially for daily Masses. It's a way for people to stay connected spiritually in the midst of busy lives. You probably didn't get a chance to see St. Cecelia s cathedral. It's a little different from most of the Gothic style churches of that era, it's more of a Romanesque style. It's beautiful in a massive way, but the acoustics are terrible. St. Johns on the Creighton campus is another historic church; it's where our older son and daughter in law got married. It has a rood screen, which I guess is particular to a university church.
Well, as someone who has trouble accepting the RCCs process for declaring someone a saint as it is, calling people about whom nothing is known “saints” seems akin to canonizing Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. Eventually we reveal to children the mythical nature of Santa Claus and other revered, but not real characters, and explain the underlying mythology and symbolism. It seems that the church should do the same. They know that Mary had a mother. However nothing is known about who she was. For all we know she died in childbirth, fairly common in those days. I have trouble venerating mythical people. It’s tough enough to venerate some of the “ saints “ that we do know a lot about. John Paul II comes to mind, along with a whole lot of other popes. Or people like Thomas More who persecuted other Christians and had people burned at the stake. I object to the canonization of Elizabeth Stein, who did not “ die for her faith”. but was murdered in the Holocaust because she was Jewish. Anyway, …..I am blessed enough to know a few saints, but none of them will ever be canonized.
I get that saints were declared or fabricated for all sorts of economic and political reasons that I could mount a long long lecture on with cynical examples and facts.
But it's the Catholic imagination that affirms what holiness is in the long process of veneration.
I didn't believe Jesus was real for a good part of my life. But I found a kind of salvation in the idea that human beings could imagine the story at all and try to live up to it.
Well, we probably don’t agree on the definition of “ holiness” either. A whole lot of folk who were canonized don’t fit my understanding of what holiness signifies. Even though I would be happier keeping a few of the totally invented saints like Christopher than a lot of the “real” people saints, I’m hardly in a position to undo a couple of thousand years of RCC saint making. ;)
Stanley, a nice change from the American political scene was the British Parliament's special session yesterday, to hold what amounted to a bipartisan wake for QE2.
I'm hostile to the whole notion of royalty, but if there is a case to be made for a monarch providing a symbol for common decency and unity, I guess that session would be it.
I suppose 9/11 (today) used to be a similar unifying memorial for Americans. But given Trump's recent reference to nobody knowing the "real" story behind that tragedy, I'd say that we are pretty much hopelessly and stupidly divided.
Jean, after 9/11 was used as a blank check for military adventurism, I lost my emotional connection to it. I don't know how many people were killed in these wars but it had to be a large multiple of 3,000. Living and working in this area, I knew someone who lost a fireman cousin. I sorrow for those who lost loved ones and the loved ones they lost. But I avoid the public recognition of it. I may be mistaken, but 9/11 commemorations just strike me as war propaganda.
FWIW - a parishioner came up to me yesterday before mass, asked me if I was preaching (I was), and instructed me - didn't request, but instructed me - to talk about 9/11. This happened as I was lined up in the back of church to walk in the procession at the start of mass, i.e. literally a minute before mass began. I am afraid I didn't handle it particularly well: as he hurried away to his pew, I turned to one of the readers who was in line in front of me and rolled my eyes. She cracked up. I told her I don't preach the "gospel" of 9/11.
I admit that, when I was prepping the homily earlier this week, I was aware that this past Sunday fell on 9/11, and wondered fleetingly whether there was some reference or tie-in I could make. I didn't see any connection, and moved on.
In the event, one of our petitions in the prayers of the faithful was for those who were victimized in any way by the attacks on 9/11. So presumably the guy walked away satisfied.
There is a lot of patriotism (I hope that word hasn't been co-opted completely by the Proud Boys and other goons of that ilk) among our parishioners. The line between love of God and love of country never has been brightly drawn in the Catholic church in the US. Many of us have memories of American flags in the sanctuaries in our parish churches - perhaps that's more than a memory in some places). The parish church in which my mother grew up has a striking stained glass window showing the Sisters of Charity caring for wounded WWI doughboys, at the feet of the Blessed Virgin - surely reflecting in some way the experience of families in that parish. My parents were children during WW II; in their minds and hearts, the love of God, love of church, love of country - it's all intertwined in a sort of virtuous braid. In my observation, it's the younger generations that have taken that sincere instinct toward virtue and turned love of country into some sort of unattractively divisive and power-mad idolatry.
Somewhat ironically, my own view is that, in this toxic politics-of-everything world we live in today, significant elements of both left and right have somehow lost the thread of love and appreciation for the United States and its heritage. Certainly, Donald Trump's true believers are the opposite of patriotic; after January 6 and all that led up to it, they can only be deemed traitors. As for the progressive left, some of them are - sometimes literally - iconoclasts eager to smash and cancel virtually everything and everyone associated with American history and build a new Utopia in the smoking ruins.
"Many of us have memories of American flags in the sanctuaries in our parish churches..." LOL, Jim, more than a memory. There's one in our church, right next to the gold and yellow papal flag. Both are off to the side, to the right of the Sacred Heart statue, not shown in an ostentatious way. I think they're both pretty dusty. We have bat trouble from time to time, one time I noticed a bat resting on the papal flag. My choir was singing for a funeral a couple of weeks ago, and a bat was swooping around during the homily. Father lost his place in his notes and choir members were crouching pretty low in the loft. A little excitement we didn't need.
Yes, sadly, 9/11 has become some kind of dog whistle.
The local parish has an American flag behind the altar. The priest often refers to our freedom to worship "unlike in Europe." Not sure what he means, but everyone else seems to get it and agree. Apparently all of Europe, except for his beloved Poland where he attended seminary, is a den of secularism and perversion.
I don't watch him on YouTube anymore because he is a goob.
We leave our flag up from Memorial to Veterans Day in honor of Raber's military service. He was in the Navy on maneuevers with NATO forces. I support NATO, and I am proud of Raber service to it.
One other thought about Mary: today, being a Saturday in Ordinary Time not otherwise designated a saint's day, can be celebrated as a Memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary. For these Marian Saturdays, one of the options given for a Morning Prayer reading is this brief snippet from Paul's Letter to the Galatians (4:4-5):
"[W]hen the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to ransom those under the law, so that we might receive adoption."
Thus, for Paul, the significance of Mary's role, at least according to his thinking on the occasion he penned this letter, lay in her being Jewish and imparting that heritage to Jesus - who thereupon ransomed those born of that heritage. We might note that this seems quite characteristic of Paul, who of course had lived a life of zeal on behalf of his own Jewish heritage prior to his conversion experience.
The author of Luke's Gospel wrote a major New Testament work about Paul's apostolic mission; and that same author also is the most important source for our understanding of Mary's significance in the Incarnation. Whether the author of Luke's Gospel personally knew either Mary or Paul is something we can't know with certainty; but at the very least, that author certainly was steeped in traditions relating to both persons.
Yet we might conclude that that pollination in traditions was a cross-pollination; Paul himself has left virtually no evidence that he knew Mary's name or story, beyond these two bare verses in Galatians. His letters leave almost no indication that Mary's role in our salvation was among the things he emphasized when he traveled, preached and planted Christian communities. That devotion to Mary took root and grew, we have no doubt; but we don't have much reason to attribute that to Paul.
Interesting iconography. The scroll signifies St Anne's religious education of Mary. Sometimes St Anne is holding a book. At first glance, the scroll looked like part of St Anne's girdle, a symbol of maternity. Girdles of local women saints were popular medieval relics sought by pregnant women. I wonder if the artist intended that double meaning.
ReplyDeleteI like the idea of St. Anne teaching Mary and nurturing her much better than the non-canonical story where her parents hand her off to the temple at age three to be raised there. Always thought that was highly unlikely.
DeleteThere was a large old print in the family with the same theme. In this case, St. Anne is teaching Mary Holy Scripture using a codex instead of a scroll.. It came into my hands following my aunt's and mother's deaths. My cousin in FL loved the picture and I sent it to her.
DeleteHow can St. Anne be in the canon? She is never mentioned in the New Testament. For that matter, there are very few references to Mary, and none of those mention her death, or the assumption of her body. Yes, I know about Tradition with a capital T. I first learned about the role of oral tradition in Catholicism as long ago as third grade, But one can see why the sola scriptura Protestants are sceptical about some Catholic teachings. I have read that Anne is mentioned in the gospel of James, but that gospel not in the canon. The immaculate conception is also not in scripture. It is the result of theological reasoning, but arrived at without any actual written foundation.
DeleteHagiography is not for anybody who wants a lot of proof and documentation. (I recently watched an interesting mini documentary on incorruptibility of the body, once the ultimate sign of sanctity. It's complicated ...) Some lives are so heavily encrusted with apocryphal stories that the real person underneath is lost (Ss Anne, Swithun). Other lives are likely pure fabrications (Ss George, Christopher, Veronica).
DeleteI have no problem with venerating any of these folks, real or imagined. They fill the need for folks to imagine how someone in their circumstances might live a Christian life.
I have, at times, prayed to St Elizabeth. We know nothing about her other than that she was the elderly mother of John the Baptist. I always felt that she would understand my particular challenges as someone in her late 40s and 50s dealing with a kid who was something of an oddball livewire.
The way I look at it, Mary had parents. That is a fact that we can know is true, even though written records were sketchy or non-existent back then. As they say, "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree"; I think I am safe in believing that Mary's mother and father were good people.
DeleteAs to the Protoevangelium of James, don't get me started. The kindest thing I can say about it is that it is pious fan fiction. I have listened to enough homilies cherry picking factoids from it to make me blue in the face, including one last Thursday. If you want to read something wild and kind of creepy, check out the Nativity of Jesus narrative in the Protoevangelium. Or better yet, don't.
I was staying in a hotel in downtown Omaha when this feast occurred, a couple of days ago. There was a Catholic church visible from my hotel window, so I walked over there for an early morning mass. Unfortunately, there was no music at the mass - typical, of course, for a parish weekday mass; it was unfortunate because singing Marian songs is about 3/4 of the fun of celebrating a Marian feast. Still, in his homily, the priest invited us to join in spontaneously on an a cappella verse of Hail Holy Queen (enthroned above...). Some of us knew it. I think of that hymn as being at the "other end" of Mary's life's journey, but that's ok.
ReplyDeleteThe priest also noted, in his opening remarks (which almost served as a mini-homily in their own right), that the church, on its liturgical calendar, commemorates the births of three persons: Jesus, Mary and John the Baptist. He sees that as a mark of the significance of those three persons, which seems a fair observation. In the same remarks, he also pointed out that the Birth of Mary lands precisely nine months after the Immaculate Conception. That gives rise to the thought (which he didn't express - this is me talking now) that, of those three personages, the church's calendar celebrates the conceptions of two of them, Jesus and Mary, even though the circumstances of the latter's conception are not related in scripture, whereas the story of John the Baptist's conception is told in Luke's Gospel. I guess we conclude that, for whatever reason, the story of Zechariah, Elizabeth and their son John didn't capture people's imaginations sufficiently to warrant its own feast day. But curiously, the beheading of John the Baptist, vividly recounted in Mark's Gospel, is given a date on the church's calendar. Go figure.
What parish did you attend Mass at, Jim?
DeleteWe didn't have music at our Mass here, either. If it had been one of the Marian holy days of obligation, I'm sure I would have been playing Hail Holy Queen for an exit hymn!
Katherine - it was Mary Magdalene Parish, at 20th and Dodge. Across the street (kitty-corner) was a large school which I think I subsequently figured out was Omaha Central High School. Our hotel was at 18th and Douglas.
DeleteThe priest apparently was African, but I didn't catch his name. The folks at the daily mass was what one might expect to see in a downtown parish on a weekday: some retirees, and a few working people stopping in before their workday started. One or two of the latter were young adults, which was nice to see.
Mary Magdalene is a historic church in Omaha. I don't know if it still does, but it used to have the most Masses scheduled on a weekend of any of the churches in Omaha. Probably not so many now with the priest shortage that affects all the parishes. It used to be known for the speediest Masses, in and out in 20 minutes, and no music or frills in those! But funny how a lot of people liked that.
DeleteAbout the priest shortage, we had an unexpected vacancy in our town, fortunately not our parish. The bottom line is that the three parishes here and two smaller towns are in a cluster or "family", and will share three priests (and three retired priests) one of whom will be the main pastor. All five parishes will have to lose one weekend Mass each.
About Central High School, that building used to be the state capitol, before the capital city was changed to Lincoln. So for historic reasons, the building will always be maintained rather than replaced. (I know, people back east laugh at our "historic" buildings, compared to those in Boston and New York.)
DeleteYes, somehow my wife and learned about the reputation of that parish for speedy masses. Of course, liturgists frown on that sort of thing, but for a downtown parish, where workers have to adhere to a schedule, it's a blessing. We were in tourist mode, but it was a blessing for me, too, because it allowed us to get on to our next activity (which, for us, was checking out and leaving, but we had a very long drive in front of us that day).
DeleteThat high school building was so impressive, I thought at first it must be city hall or the courthouse or something similar. But then I saw the long line of young-looking people wearing backpacks streaming up the steps at 7:30 am. The building is so grand-looking, I thought it must be a college (my wife had mentioned that Creighton was around there somewhere). Google Maps told me that it's a high school.
Age-wise, I thought Omaha looked a lot like my hometown in Michigan (but with a much bigger and nicer downtown area :-)). Yes, it's not as old as Boston, but it's clearly a city with some history and roots. And a nice zoo!
I know liturgists frown on speedy Masses, but I actually think they are fine, especially for daily Masses. It's a way for people to stay connected spiritually in the midst of busy lives.
DeleteYou probably didn't get a chance to see St. Cecelia s cathedral. It's a little different from most of the Gothic style churches of that era, it's more of a Romanesque style. It's beautiful in a massive way, but the acoustics are terrible. St. Johns on the Creighton campus is another historic church; it's where our older son and daughter in law got married. It has a rood screen, which I guess is particular to a university church.
Well, as someone who has trouble accepting the RCCs process for declaring someone a saint as it is, calling people about whom nothing is known “saints” seems akin to canonizing Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. Eventually we reveal to children the mythical nature of Santa Claus and other revered, but not real characters, and explain the underlying mythology and symbolism. It seems that the church should do the same. They know that Mary had a mother. However nothing is known about who she was. For all we know she died in childbirth, fairly common in those days. I have trouble venerating mythical people. It’s tough enough to venerate some of the “ saints “ that we do know a lot about. John Paul II comes to mind, along with a whole lot of other popes. Or people like Thomas More who persecuted other Christians and had people burned at the stake. I object to the canonization of Elizabeth Stein, who did not “ die for her faith”. but was murdered in the Holocaust because she was Jewish. Anyway, …..I am blessed enough to know a few saints, but none of them will ever be canonized.
DeleteEdith not Elizabeth.
DeleteYah, we won't agree on this, but fwiw:
DeleteI get that saints were declared or fabricated for all sorts of economic and political reasons that I could mount a long long lecture on with cynical examples and facts.
But it's the Catholic imagination that affirms what holiness is in the long process of veneration.
I didn't believe Jesus was real for a good part of my life. But I found a kind of salvation in the idea that human beings could imagine the story at all and try to live up to it.
Well, we probably don’t agree on the definition of “ holiness” either. A whole lot of folk who were canonized don’t fit my understanding of what holiness signifies. Even though I would be happier keeping a few of the totally invented saints like Christopher than a lot of the “real” people saints, I’m hardly in a position to undo a couple of thousand years of RCC saint making. ;)
DeleteWell, if you listen to our politicians, we Americans are all noble saints. Except for the demons supporting the other party.
DeleteStanley, a nice change from the American political scene was the British Parliament's special session yesterday, to hold what amounted to a bipartisan wake for QE2.
DeleteI'm hostile to the whole notion of royalty, but if there is a case to be made for a monarch providing a symbol for common decency and unity, I guess that session would be it.
I suppose 9/11 (today) used to be a similar unifying memorial for Americans. But given Trump's recent reference to nobody knowing the "real" story behind that tragedy, I'd say that we are pretty much hopelessly and stupidly divided.
Jean, after 9/11 was used as a blank check for military adventurism, I lost my emotional connection to it. I don't know how many people were killed in these wars but it had to be a large multiple of 3,000. Living and working in this area, I knew someone who lost a fireman cousin. I sorrow for those who lost loved ones and the loved ones they lost. But I avoid the public recognition of it. I may be mistaken, but 9/11 commemorations just strike me as war propaganda.
DeleteFWIW - a parishioner came up to me yesterday before mass, asked me if I was preaching (I was), and instructed me - didn't request, but instructed me - to talk about 9/11. This happened as I was lined up in the back of church to walk in the procession at the start of mass, i.e. literally a minute before mass began. I am afraid I didn't handle it particularly well: as he hurried away to his pew, I turned to one of the readers who was in line in front of me and rolled my eyes. She cracked up. I told her I don't preach the "gospel" of 9/11.
DeleteI admit that, when I was prepping the homily earlier this week, I was aware that this past Sunday fell on 9/11, and wondered fleetingly whether there was some reference or tie-in I could make. I didn't see any connection, and moved on.
In the event, one of our petitions in the prayers of the faithful was for those who were victimized in any way by the attacks on 9/11. So presumably the guy walked away satisfied.
There is a lot of patriotism (I hope that word hasn't been co-opted completely by the Proud Boys and other goons of that ilk) among our parishioners. The line between love of God and love of country never has been brightly drawn in the Catholic church in the US. Many of us have memories of American flags in the sanctuaries in our parish churches - perhaps that's more than a memory in some places). The parish church in which my mother grew up has a striking stained glass window showing the Sisters of Charity caring for wounded WWI doughboys, at the feet of the Blessed Virgin - surely reflecting in some way the experience of families in that parish. My parents were children during WW II; in their minds and hearts, the love of God, love of church, love of country - it's all intertwined in a sort of virtuous braid. In my observation, it's the younger generations that have taken that sincere instinct toward virtue and turned love of country into some sort of unattractively divisive and power-mad idolatry.
Somewhat ironically, my own view is that, in this toxic politics-of-everything world we live in today, significant elements of both left and right have somehow lost the thread of love and appreciation for the United States and its heritage. Certainly, Donald Trump's true believers are the opposite of patriotic; after January 6 and all that led up to it, they can only be deemed traitors. As for the progressive left, some of them are - sometimes literally - iconoclasts eager to smash and cancel virtually everything and everyone associated with American history and build a new Utopia in the smoking ruins.
"Many of us have memories of American flags in the sanctuaries in our parish churches..." LOL, Jim, more than a memory. There's one in our church, right next to the gold and yellow papal flag. Both are off to the side, to the right of the Sacred Heart statue, not shown in an ostentatious way. I think they're both pretty dusty. We have bat trouble from time to time, one time I noticed a bat resting on the papal flag. My choir was singing for a funeral a couple of weeks ago, and a bat was swooping around during the homily. Father lost his place in his notes and choir members were crouching pretty low in the loft. A little excitement we didn't need.
DeleteLike your parish, the only mention that was made here of 9/11 yesterday was an intention in the petitions.
DeleteYes, sadly, 9/11 has become some kind of dog whistle.
DeleteThe local parish has an American flag behind the altar. The priest often refers to our freedom to worship "unlike in Europe." Not sure what he means, but everyone else seems to get it and agree. Apparently all of Europe, except for his beloved Poland where he attended seminary, is a den of secularism and perversion.
I don't watch him on YouTube anymore because he is a goob.
We leave our flag up from Memorial to Veterans Day in honor of Raber's military service. He was in the Navy on maneuevers with NATO forces. I support NATO, and I am proud of Raber service to it.
One other thought about Mary: today, being a Saturday in Ordinary Time not otherwise designated a saint's day, can be celebrated as a Memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary. For these Marian Saturdays, one of the options given for a Morning Prayer reading is this brief snippet from Paul's Letter to the Galatians (4:4-5):
ReplyDelete"[W]hen the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to ransom those under the law, so that we might receive adoption."
Thus, for Paul, the significance of Mary's role, at least according to his thinking on the occasion he penned this letter, lay in her being Jewish and imparting that heritage to Jesus - who thereupon ransomed those born of that heritage. We might note that this seems quite characteristic of Paul, who of course had lived a life of zeal on behalf of his own Jewish heritage prior to his conversion experience.
The author of Luke's Gospel wrote a major New Testament work about Paul's apostolic mission; and that same author also is the most important source for our understanding of Mary's significance in the Incarnation. Whether the author of Luke's Gospel personally knew either Mary or Paul is something we can't know with certainty; but at the very least, that author certainly was steeped in traditions relating to both persons.
Yet we might conclude that that pollination in traditions was a cross-pollination; Paul himself has left virtually no evidence that he knew Mary's name or story, beyond these two bare verses in Galatians. His letters leave almost no indication that Mary's role in our salvation was among the things he emphasized when he traveled, preached and planted Christian communities. That devotion to Mary took root and grew, we have no doubt; but we don't have much reason to attribute that to Paul.