Tuesday 31 May 2005

Visitation

I love my Order dearly, but one can refer to deficiencies in one's own 'family,' and I freely admit that the homely, moving images Franciscans have given to popular devotion can make the divine Logos fade into the shadows of a carpenter's shop alone. :) It is not that I do not find popular images of the infancy narratives to be compelling. Yet I myself blush to admit that it is easy to become lost in picturing reactions and feelings of the characters at the outset of Luke's vivid gospel. Israel in worship and expectation, and the power of the Holy Spirit (overshadowing Mary, inspiring Elizabeth - and guiding the Church, as Luke tells us in his 'second book'), can become abstractions, as one pictures one or the other of Mary's joys or sorrows, or imagines her charity in visiting her aged and pregnant cousin.

The tone of the narratives in the Old and New Testaments differ markedly, of course, and it is well within my memory when preaching often referred to Jesus' instituting a 'law of love,' as if Yahweh had been persuaded to change his punishing nature. Yet Jewish scholars would see the sacred scriptures as presenting a picture of continuous fidelity from God, no matter how unfaithful his children were to the covenant. Luke provides us with an image of the continuation of salvation history - complete with angels, prophecies, temple worship and personal praise. Mary, Simeon, Anna, Zechariah, and Elizabeth are Israel not only in expectation (and fulfilment), but at prayer. They proclaim Jesus the Son of God - and the 'infancy' section concludes with Jesus Himself referring to his father's house and therefore his own divine sonship.

Yes, I know I'm falling into sounding pedantic! :) Bear with me. I have been Franciscan for many years, and seeing Elizabeth beyond her being an older woman who was distressed at having no children (yet happily visited by her charitable little cousin) is hardly an easy task.

Raymond Brown, in his commentary The Birth of the Messiah, notes that Luke has moved the christological moment (revelation of Jesus’ identity) from the resurrection to the virginal conception. Luke’s theological thought is of a new creation, wherein God’s spirit (as was the case in Genesis 1:2) is once again active in the first creation of life. Brown is careful to note, however, that too much creative theological thought has focused on Mary's feelings and dispositions - and reminds us that no one, including this first disciple of Christ, had post-resurrection understanding in advance. Mary's discipleship would involve waiting, uncertainty and so forth no less than does our own.

I so wish at times that my brothers, such as Giles of Assisi or Bernadine of Siena, had been a little less literal in their treatments of Mary as virgin. (They tended to be rather absorbed in making certain that no one thought childbirth had disturbed certain physical attributes.) No Jewish girl would have made vows of virginity (preparatory to announcement of her being the intended Mother of Jesus), nor been given 'in trust' in a marriage. I do believe that her virginity is literally true, because divine images (as I noted yesterday in relation to wheat!) often are revealed to us through what is physical and simple. Not only is Jesus' conception the new creation I previously mentioned, but Mary is an image of the Church.

We tend to forget today that any concept of virginity for the sake of the kingdom has to do, not with morality, but with eschatology. It points to that there is more to the relationship with God than the good of this earth. Israel, as the Old Testament shows us, did not refrain from painting a picture of her own infidelity. The Christian, of course, is no more faithful or laudable than was Israel - but, by divine power alone, we have a hint that creation continues, and that the kingdom, however begun, has further glory to be revealed in the future. Mary leaves us with an image of discipleship in such expectation - what Francis would call 'the virgin made Church.' (A priest friend reminded me yesterday of quite a contrary image in Hosea - Christian writers would never have the blunt honesty of Israel's prophets.) :)

A blog should contain a personal element, and I'm smiling now - suddenly seeing a contrast between Luke's idealistic images and Paul's (pastoral) realism. Acts depicts a communist Christian community of mega saints! (Luke must have known Christians who varied somewhat from those known to Paul!) If this is in any way historical (to such a great extent – Acts makes it seem that there were thousands), I would imagine it was in the ‘heat of the moment’ after the resurrection, and based on the expectation of Jesus’ imminent return to reign in glory (which they would share.) People expecting to be raised to glory shortly would not attend to temporal matters – where Paul was writing to those who had at least some grasp of that it might not be done by next Tuesday. Based on Acts, one would have the impression that Paul departed for Rome in some small glory... there is no hint of his martyrdom.

Luke shows us what the Church should be. Paul already knew, and was writing to deal with, what it is. :) Yet Luke, more so than any other writer, leaves us strong images of Jesus at prayer - and of Israel, in the persons of the faithful individuals in the infancy narratives, expressing herself in prophecy and canticle. We shall never have perfection - in fact, as Paul already knew, we'll be lucky to have anything except weakness, sinfulness, and conflict in our dealings with one another. Beyond that, we have expectation, an intention towards discipleship, and worship. Sounds like little - but it has kept us from self-destructing for 2,000 years.

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