Category Archives: Birth Narratives

Parental Criticism

Since the text on which I’m dissertating (Protogospel of James) involves children of all sorts (Mary, Jesus, John the Baptist), as well as their parents (Joachim, Anna, Joseph, Elizabeth, Zechariah), I find it necessary to devise a new sort of exegetical method that I have decided to term “Parental Criticism.” It is brazenly non-historical, and is rather based on my own experience as father of a four month old. Here is an example:

Chapter six of the Protogospel of James (henceforth PJ) narrates the events following the birth of Mary. Mary’s mother Anna places her on the ground when she is six months old to see if she is able to stand (PJ 6:2). Mary surprises her mother when she walks seven steps. Anna snatches her up and vows that her feet will never again touch the ground until they bring her to live in the temple (this will happen in the following chapter). Anna creates a sanctuary in her bedroom for Mary, where she allows her to eat no unclean food and to only be entertained by virgins (PJ 6:4-5).

This story of course conveys the fact that Anna was a practitioner of what is commonly called “attachment parenting (AP),” the slogan of which is, loosely translated, “keep ‘em close.” Rather than teach her daughter to avoid the things of the world that defile, Anna decides to shelter her from them. Mary spends the first three years of her life in her mother’s bedroom. The root of AP seems to have been the inkling that one’s child is in fact the most significant child to have ever been born. The ironic thing is, of course, that in Mary’s case, this was true (it remains true until the birth of Jesus).

This account is of course striking given what follows her third birthday, namely, her parents allow someone else to raise her. Now, the tension is resolved slightly because those chosen to raise the three-year-old Mary are none other than the priests in the Jerusalem Temple, which becomes in PJ a sort of permanent day care for the Blessed Virgin. In contrast to the makeshift sanctuary in her mother’s bedroom, Mary now lives in the holy of holies, the “real” sanctuary. She is no longer fed undefiled food by her mother, but is rather fed from the hand of an angel.

One more aspect of the story has yet to be mentioned: Joachim’s role as the father of Mary. When Mary turns two, Joachim goes to Anna and says that it is time to bring Mary to the temple in fulfillment of their vow to God (PJ 7:1). Anna “suggests” that they should wait until she is three. Joachim complies without resistance to Anna’s amendment. Joachim, as the ideal father in this instance, does what he is told. His initial suggestion is well-reasoned and good, but because it is different from that of his wife, he realizes that it is wrong.

Amen


Andrew of Crete and the Immaculate Conception

The focus of my research, the Protevangelium of James, is often cited as the earliest expression of Mary’s Immaculate Conception. As a consequence of my research, I have been reading many Patristic homilies on Mary, some of which speak of her birth and childhood.

Today, on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, I decided it may be fitting to share one. This is from an eighth-century homily, the Canon on the Nativity, by St. Andrew of Crete (translated by Luigi Gambero in Mary and the Fathers of the Church, 394):

Let all creation dance; let David dance as well, for from his line and his seed arose the branch that will bear the Flower, the Lord and Redeemer of all…

Anna was sterile and barren, but not childless in God’s eyes. For from all eternity, she was predestined to be the mother of the chaste Virgin, from whom the Creator was to come forth in the form of a servant.

Unsullied Lamb, who alone, from your womb, gave Christ the wool of our nature, we all celebrate your birth from Anna with songs.


Bibliography for the Protevangelium of James

For those interested in the study of New Testament Apocrypha, I’m working on compiling a more or less exhaustive bibliography for the Protevangelium of James. You can find what I’ve got so far at the top of this page, or by clicking here.


Epiphany, 2011

Today the Magi find crying in a manger the one they have followed as he shone in the sky. Today the Magi see clearly, in swaddling clothes, the one they have long awaited as he lay hidden among the stars.

Today the Magi gaze in deep wonder at what they see: heaven on earth, earth in heaven, man in God, God in man, one whom the whole universe cannot contain now enclosed in a tiny body. As they look, they believe and do not question, as their symbolic gifts bear witness: incense for God, gold for a king, myrrh for one who is to die.

– Peter Chrysologus, Sermon 160, PL 52:620-62.

* image – The Epiphany, Giotto Di Bondone


The Mystery of the Incarnation (a video)

Scholars and theologians agree that this is likely what the birth of Jesus looked like:


There’s Something About Mary, Part 3

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In the first post of this series, I gave a summary of the four Catholic dogmas concerning Mary. In this post, a New Testament witness to Mary’s role in the Incarnation, specifically that of Luke. Among the Synoptic Gospels, the Gospel of Luke stands out with regard to Mary’s role in the birth of Jesus. Matthew’s birth narrative certainly includes Mary, but she is a fairly passive character. She is found to be pregnant by the Holy Spirit (ἐν γαστρὶ ἔχουσα ἐκ πνεύματος ἁγίου) in Matt 1:18, but Matthew’s attention in this narrative seems more focussed on Joseph than on Mary; namely, the angel who visits Joseph instructs him on how he is to handle his future wife who has become pregnant. Mark, of course, has no birth narrative. Mary appears in the Gospel of John, and her character is significant, but her role in that Gospel will necessitate another post (I write this retrospectively, seeing how long this particular post has become).

In Luke, Mary’s role in Jesus’ birth is extensive and pronounced. After he has visited both Zechariah and Elizabeth to announce the forthcoming birth of John the Baptist (Luke 1:5-25), the angel Gabriel is sent by God to visit Mary in Nazareth. When he greets her, he does so by means of the title κεχαριτωμένη, a perfect participle that means, “one who has been graced.” Typically, English translations render this “favored one” or even “highly favored one.” In my opinion, a better translation of this participle would in fact match the sense of the Ave Maria, “one who is full of grace.” The perfect tense typically means action completed in the past, but with continuing effects into the future. All of these things considered, Gabriel’s address to Mary shows that she is in possession of grace, that she has been in possession of grace, and that her possession of grace is distinct from the rest who are in Luke’s narrative. Canonically speaking, her possession of grace distinguishes her from everyone else as well.

Gabriel continues by telling Mary that she will become pregnant with a son (by the power of the Holy Spirit), that her son will be called the son of the Most High (ὐψίστου), and that God will give to him the throne of David, which will last forever (Luke 1:32-33). Mary’s response to Gabriel has given rise to no shortage of theological reflection; she says, in reference to herself, “Behold, the servant(f) of the Lord. May it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). This response, known simply as Mary’s Fiat, effectively sets in motion the events of the Incarnation. This is not to say that the Word becoming flesh was some sort of afterthought, or that without Mary’s consent humanity could not have been redeemed. To be sure, redemption could have occurred in any number of ways. However, the means by which God chose to act was through a virgin in Nazareth who was not only able to bear the Redeemer, but who was willing to bear the Redeemer. Mary’s being graced (κεχαριτωμένη) shows her ability to undertake such a task; her Fiat shows her willingness.

Mary’s encounter with Elizabeth is also worth noting in this discussion. When she goes to see her relative (Luke 1:36, 39-40), John the Baptist is still in Elizabeth’s womb. Upon seeing Mary (who is now pregnant), John leaps in the womb and Elizabeth is immediately filled with the Holy Spirit. She exclaims, “You have been blessed among women; also the fruit of your womb has been blessed!” Elizabeth then makes a statement that has often been glossed over, “Why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord might come to me?” (Luke 1:43). This entire scene is striking on account of its theological richness. Namely, Mary comes to Elizabeth when she is barely pregnant (i.e., the baby is likely not showing yet), and yet Elizabeth, empowered by the Spirit, is aware that Mary is with child. Moreover, Elizabeth asserts that Mary is the mother of her Lord. Now, I’m not going to press things too far and say that Luke singlehandedly gave birth (pardon the pun) to the concept of Mary as θεοτόκος that would be championed at Ephesus in 431…I’m also not going to say that Luke’s metaphysics of the Incarnation (if we may even speak of such things at this point) is sophisticated enough to support the theological weight of such a claim. However, I will say is that Luke’s portrayal of this scene seems to me as Mariological as it is Christological…it could perhaps be said to be more Mariological than it is Christological. Namely, although Jesus is technically in this scene (in utero), His character is quite passive in every sense of the word. The focus is on Mary’s being the Mother of the Lord.

At this point, we may rightly speak of a shift in focus. After Elizabeth has finished praising Mary, Mary begins to prophesy in what is now known as the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55). In this hymn of praise, Mary directs the reader’s attention, not to herself, but to God; specifically, she speaks of God’s saving action. Granted, Mary’s hymn of praise also addresses the topic of her own role in this work, especially at the beginning, but this is always as a means to show the larger picture of God’s action in and among humanity. In a sense, the Magnificat embodies what any talk of Mary should embody. That is, Mary’s role in this process is beyond question; as mentioned earlier, Mary’s Fiat has set in motion the events of the Incarnation, and as such, her Fiat shows her own willingness to participate in the work of redemption. The work of redemption is always and undeniably the work of God, but at least in Luke’s Gospel, Mary’s role in this plan remains undeniable.

Scattered throughout the New Testament, there are other texts that speak either specifically of Mary or broadly of Jesus having a human mother. I have chosen to focus here on the Annunciation narrative in Luke, as it strikes me as among the most Mariological narratives in the New Testament. If you’re interested in looking for yourself at the other New Testament authors who speak of Mary, the Marian Library at the University of Dayton has a fine resource that can be accessed here.


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