The Beheading of John the Baptist in Tradition and Legend [REPOST]

(Andrea Solario)

From the 1910 Catholic Encyclopedia:

The honour paid so early and in so many places to the relics of St. John the Baptist, the zeal with which many churches have maintained at all times their ill-founded claims to some of his relics, the numberless churches, abbeys, towns, and religious families placed under his patronage, the frequency of his name among Christian people, all attest the antiquity and widespread diffusion of the devotion to the Precursor. The commemoration of his Nativity is one of the oldest feasts, if not the oldest feast, introduced into both the Greek and Latin liturgies to honour a saint.... The celebration of the Decollation [Beheading] of John the Baptist, on 29 August, enjoys almost the same antiquity. (Charles Souvay)

Becoming of one of the greatest saints, the recipient of protodulia, John’s feasts are ancient and multiple. In older martyrologies, the Conception of the Forerunner is feasted on September 24 (the 23rd in the East). His Nativity is of course celebrated nine months later at Midsummer, June 24. The Orthodox also have more Johannine feasts for the transferring of various relics.

(source)

St. Mark’s Gospel, strangely, has the longer account of St. John’s death:

Herod himself had sent and arrested John and put him in prison, in chains, for love of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, whom he had married; because John had told Herod, “It is wrong for thee to take thy brother’s wife.” Herodias was always plotting against him, and would willingly have murdered him, but could not, because Herod was afraid of John, recognizing him for an upright and holy man; so that he kept him carefully, and followed his advice in many things, and was glad to listen to him.

And now came a fitting occasion, upon which Herod gave a birthday feast to his lords and officers, and to the chief men of Galilee. Herodias’ own daughter came in and danced, and gave such pleasure to Herod and his guests that the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever thou wilt, and thou shalt have it;” he even bound himself by an oath, “I will grant whatever request thou makest, though it were a half of my kingdom.” Thereupon she went out and said to her mother, “What shall I ask for?” And she answered, “The head of John the Baptist.” With that, she hastened into the king’s presence and made her request; “My will is, she said, that thou shouldst give me the head of John the Baptist; give it me now, on a dish.” 

And the king was full of remorse, but out of respect to his oath and to those who sat with him at table, he would not disappoint her. So he sent one of his guard with orders that the head should be brought on a dish. This soldier cut off his head in the prison, and brought it on a dish, and gave it to the girl; and the girl gave it to her mother. When John’s disciples heard of it, they came and carried off his body, and laid it in a tomb. (Knox trans.)

(Gustave Moreau)

The Golden Legend speaks of the divine retribution wrought by the head of John the Baptist:

And in like wise as Herod was punished that beheaded Saint John, and Julian the apostate that burnt his bones, so was Herodias which counselled her daughter to demand the head of Saint John. And the maid that required it died right ungraciously and evil, and some say that Herodias was condemned in exile, but she was not, ne she died not there, but when she held the head between her hands she was much joyful, but by the will of God the head blew in her visage, and she died forthwith. This is said of some, but that which is said tofore, that she was sent in exile with Herod, and miserably ended her life, thus say saints in their chronicles and it is to be holden. And as her daughter went upon the water she was drowned anon, and it is said in another chronicle that the earth swallowed her in, all quick, and may be understood as of the Egyptians that were drowned in the Red Sea, so the earth devoured her.

(source)

There are multiple claimants to the relic of John’s skull, including San Silvestro in Rome (photographed above). The full collection of these skulls might fill a small closet shelf. The Legend again has many stories about the miraculous head throughout the ages. His bones were desecrated and burned by Julian the Apostate, but multiple pieces have survived to the modern day.

Who Art Thou?

The last two weeks at the local Tradistani parish have been blessed with very good sermons about St. John the Forerunner, or John the Baptist. Last week’s Gospel reading about imprisoned John sending his disciples to the Lord and this week’s reading where John denies being the Christ both provided a great deal of substance for thoughtful sermonizing. I have written elsewhere about how diminished the cult of the Forerunner has become in the Latin Church, and I appreciate greatly those occasions when he is properly remembered.

Spiritual literature on the Forerunner is sparse, and I was pleased a few months back to come across a book by the 20th-century Russian Orthodox priest Sergius Bulgakov, The Friend of the Bridegroom: On the Orthodox Veneration of the Forerunner. While perusing the table of contents online I noticed an appendix on “St. John the Forerunner and St. Joseph the Betrothed” and bought it on the spot.

Like myself, Bulgakov takes the ancient icon of the Deësis as a starting point for understanding the early veneration of the Forerunner. However, his observation that John and the Virgin Mary are here paired iconographically is the starting point for some truly odd speculative theology. His emphasis on the importance of John’s mission becomes mildly troubling early on:

If not for John, Christ the Savior could not have come into the world. John and Christ are personally and indissolubly linked like the great and small celestial lights to which the Church hymn compares them. (“All creation is illuminated by solar rays, for, O Forerunner, you appeared like a radiant star of the spiritual sun.”) 

Christ’s link to the Mother of God is clear and easy to understand; without Her the Nativity would not have taken place: the divine incarnation presupposes and implies divine motherhood. Less apparent but not less indissoluble is the link between Christ and the Forerunner, for the Lord’s Baptism, which corresponds to His spiritual birth and His reception of the Holy Spirit, presupposes the Baptist. And so, the place he occupies in relation to Christ is correlative to that of the Mother of God. (5)

The Russian’s errant understanding of Original Sin and of the total purity of the Mother of God hampers him in some respects, and I expected that to be the case. In order to place John so close to Mary, he must first demote the Blessed Virgin. Still, he continues with many good insights into the nature of John’s mission and with his importance to the turning from the Old Testament into the New. He makes much of John’s appellation as the “Friend” of the Bridegroom:

The Lord… did not find Himself alone in the world, for a friend, prepared and worthy to receive Him, had come to meet Him. In this meeting, this friend represented all humankind, or rather, the whole Old Testament Church, which, in his person, was coming to an end, surpassing its limited holiness. (11)

Bulgakov notices some intriguing parallels between John and Jesus in the Gospels that I had not seen before, such as the way the two are described as growing children: “And the child [John] grew, and was strengthened in spirit; and was in the deserts until the day of his manifestation to Israel” (Lk. 1:80), compared to “And the child [Jesus] grew, and waxed strong, full of wisdom; and the grace of God was in him” (Lk. 2:40). The baptism of John at the beginning of the Gospels is directly paralleled at their end when sacramental baptism is instituted by Christ. Both John and Jesus are named by an angel. He ends his chapter on the Birth of John with a wonderfully poetic description of the state of the world and the grandeur of Rome that could drive St. Augustine to literary jealousy:

And none of the people knew then that they were living at the same time as the “greatest born of women,” nor that precisely in their historical epoch a work of the purification of the sinful human essence was being accomplished that it is impossible for man to surpass. The world was intoxicated and deafened by its own grandeur. Tiberias reigned on the world’s throne. The hosts of Rome controlled the universe. Roman law held the universe in its iron grip. Horace was writing his odes, Tacitus his history, Vergil his Aeneid, and Seneca and Epictetus their philosophical works. Greece was surrendering itself to the sweet luxuriousness of its aesthetic and philosophical contemplation. The waves of the human ocean were rising and falling. Great political events, international wars, civil cataclysms were ripening and taking place. The world was living with all the intensity of the life of human genius and creativity, of sin and vice. But it did not know—no one in the world knew—that the fullness of human maturity had been fulfilled, that, in the Jordan desert, the greatest of those born of women was waiting for his hour to come. The ways of God are unfathomable for man. (40-41)

But this devotional work turns truly troubling in the chapter on the Baptism of the Lord. At the Jordan, Bulgakov says, Christ came not simply to begin his ministry with the public approbation of God the Father and the Holy Ghost, but to consciously and intentionally take on the role of the Son of God and to receive the Spirit.

Even as the Son receives from all eternity the Holy Spirit who proceeds from the Father and who, reciprocally, reveals the Son to the Father and the Father to the Son, so His human nature must receive the Spirit of filiation, in order that the Son of man truly become the Son of God…. In order to be the perfect God-Man, the Son must receive as Man that which He possesses as God. In order that the fullness of Divinity dwell in Him, it is necessary that the Son’s human nature too be adopted by the Father by the descent of the Holy Spirit upon it. (54-55)

And he continues,

[Christ’s] growth and development, now as an adolescent, are shown a second time in the Gospel: “Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.” This indicates that His human nature was incomplete and imperfect in some sense, which would be impossible if the Holy Spirit, the fullness of Divinity, had hypostatically reposed upon this nature. This fulness was realized only in the baptism, when the Holy Spirit descended upon the Lord’s human nature in the form of a dove, and the Lord became the Anointed one, Christ…. The hypostatic descent of the Holy Spirit upon Christ’s human nature, His two natures being without confusion and without separation, took place at the baptism, when Jesus became the perfect God-Man…. The baptismal theophany is therefore a new and definite filiation. (56)

Here, Bulgakov’s crypto-Nestorianism becomes less cryptic. His Christology is so shaky that he believes Christ had to wait until his thirtieth year before he could make a “weighed decision to dedicate Himself to God” (58). He even admits that what he is writing sounds close to the heresy of Nestorius, but simply denies it without disproving it.

From here it was impossible to treat the author as anything but a hostile witness, and it was with some dismay to the reader that he proceeded to interpret John’s sending of his disciples to question Jesus as an experience of doubt, as his own Gethsemane temptation. In a later chapter on the Glorification of the Forerunner, he delves into even more heterodox territory with speculations about the so-called angelic nature of John. Most theologians interpret the description of John as the “angel” sent before Christ as a twofold metaphor—firstly in that he is the messenger (the literal meaning of angel) who foretells the Messiah, and secondly in that his ascetic life so mortified his flesh that it allowed him to live in spiritual purity like the angelic hosts. Bulgakov is not content to let it merely rest there:

The Forerunner is, as it were, a humanized angel or an angelic man, a living and personal communion of the two worlds. His nature represents a mystery that cannot be fully fathomed in this age. But it has been manifested and partially unveiled. Was this union of the angelic and human worlds accomplished at his birth, or is it a consequence of his heavenly glorification? There is no answer. But one can consider it established that the boundary between these two worlds was abolished at the moment of the Incarnation, and this abolition was one of the consequences of the Incarnation. These worlds were united in the person of the Forerunner, who thereby became not only a being who, as an angel, surpassed man, but also a being who, as a man, surpassed angelic being…. He is not only a man and not only an angel, but an angel-man. (131-132)

The book ends with an appendix on the devotional usurpation of John the Baptist by St. Joseph in the Roman Church. While this was perhaps the only section with which I entirely agreed, it is greatly ironic that this Russian priest complains so bitterly about the untraditional exaltation of Joseph while himself over-exalting John’s nature and mission, and dragging down not only the Virgin Mary but the God-Man himself! The Forerunner deserves a better consideration than this disappointing work. Perhaps someday one will be written.

A Burning and Shining Light [Repost]

[The supplanting of that most ancient celebration of the Vigil of St. John's Nativity by the Sacred Heart devotional feast (due to a peculiarity of the current calendar year) prompted this repost of last year's praise of the Savior's forerunner, that great man who was so close to Christ's heart and mind. Perhaps no saint is more needed in our current trial, where even ostensibly traditional churchmen wink at divorce and adultery.]

(Pierre Puvis de Chavannes)

St. John’s Eve is tonight, a celebration of the Nativity of the Forerunner. No other saint’s birth is celebrated in the liturgical kalendar, apart from the nativities of Christ and Mary. If the Josephites have their way, the stepfather of Christ will someday receive a similar feast, but for now we are spared that indignity.

Among those born of women, none have risen greater than John the Baptist, who was filled with the Holy Spirit in his sainted mother’s womb. None deserve to have universal side-chapels opposite the Virgin more than John, which would be a magnificent continuation of the ancient iconographic tradition of the Deësis. While the pre-ministerial years of Our Lord are shrouded in shadow, we know that he expressed a great affection for his cousin with many compliments:

“For John came to you in the way of justice, and you did not believe him.” (Mt. 21) 

“He was a burning and a shining light, and you were willing for a time to rejoice in his light.” (Jn. 5) 

“The baptism of John, was it from Heaven, or from men?” (Mk. 11) 

“Amongst those that are born of women, there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist.” (Lk. 7) 

“What went you out into the desert to see? a reed shaken with the wind? But what went you out to see? a man clothed in soft garments? Behold they that are clothed in soft garments, are in the houses of kings. But what went you out to see? a prophet? yea I tell you, and more than a prophet. For this is he of whom it is written: ‘Behold I send my angel before thy face, who shall prepare thy way before thee.’” (Mt. 11)

Angel, Burning Light, More Than a Prophet, Friend of the Bridegroom—the Forerunner is given the Messiah’s stamp of approval at every opportunity, even though John himself says that “He must increase, but I must decrease” (Jn. 3). But “he that shall humble himself shall be exalted” (Mt. 23), and thus the Church has historically placed him opposite the Virgin herself in his exalted intercessory position.

One can easily imagine The Baptist in a desert place as a young man, preparing for the mission ahead of him. Like the later desert hermits, the Devil must have sent his craftiest lieutenants against him, perhaps wondering if his imperviousness to temptation meant he was the promised Messiah.

John was a martyr, but not for baptizing nor for prophesying the Christ. He was murdered for one simple, repeated declaration: “It is not lawful for thee to have thy brother’s wife.” God could have permitted John to live well into the new dispensation, to witness the Crucifixion and Pentecost, and to be finally martyred as a Prophet of the Risen Christ. Perhaps it was not fitting that John should outshine the Twelve, or perhaps it was most fitting that the prelapsarian tradition of marriage should be witnessed bloodily by a sinless man even as Jesus was reestablishing its pre-Mosaic form. The strumpet Salome was herself the product of a broken marriage, a fitting image of contemporary times.

Even long after his death, the bones of St. John produced so many miracles that Julian the Apostate began to burn and pulverize them before the remaining relics were rescued. Today his cult has been pulverized: his feast cheapened into a yearly bonfire party, when it is celebrated at all, and his relics called into question by thoughtless bishops.

“For Herod feared John, knowing him to be a just and holy man, and kept him. And when he heard him, did many things, and he heard him willingly.” (Mk. 6)

But for the craftiness of Herod’s concubine, John would have lived and probably converted the king to repentance. Elijah, too, was harassed constantly by the witch-queen Jezabel. He escaped the persecution of the prophet-killer by a fiery chariot, but the Second Elijah was made to suffer and die for the perpetuation of the lie of Herodias’ marriage.

Centuries later, his namesake John Chrysostom would denounce the neo-pagan queen Aelia Eudoxia, who in her turn would depose and banish the bishop. “Again Herodias raves,” he preached, “again she is troubled; she dances again; and again desires to receive John’s head in a charger.” The golden-mouthed John would eventually die in exile from his bishopric.

“What peace? so long as the fornications of Jezabel thy mother, and her many sorceries are in their vigor.” (II Kg. 9)

There will be no peace until the wicked queen is thrown by her unmanned slaves to the dogs. There will be no peace until the birth of a true prophet is celebrated, until his father’s dumbness is released and his mother’s childless shame is removed.

Herod feared John, so did Herodias, and so should we.

John the Baptist in the Latin Mass

(Giotto)

Usually when reaching the Communicantes prayer in the Johannine-revised Missal, I cringe and quickly skip over the inserted phrase: sed et beati Ioseph eiusdem Virginis Sponsi. Last night at Mass it instead piqued my curiosity towards finding references to the Baptist throughout the text of the Missal.

The first mention is very early, in the Confiteor which is prayed twice, once by the priest and once by the server.

Confíteor Deo omnipoténti, beátæ Maríæ semper Vírgini, beáto Michaéli Archángelo, beáto Joanni Baptístæ.... Ideo precor beátam Maríam semper Vírginem, beátum Michaélem Archángelum, beátum Joánnem Baptístam, &c.

That adds up to four invocations of John by name before the Introit.

The Gloria refers to Christ as the Agnus Dei, the Lamb of God, as he was named by the Baptist.

After the washing of hands, in the Suscipe, sancta Trinitas, John is mentioned by name after the Virgin and before Peter and Paul.

In the canon, the Communicantes omits the Baptist, including rather John the Apostle and the John who was martyred under Julian the Apostate.

After the consecration, the Nobis quoque peccatoribus invokes the martyrs, with the Baptist at the head of the list.

The thrice-hymned Agnus Dei of course reflects the proclamation of the Forerunner of the identity of the Christ.

Before the people's communion, the celebrant declares: Ecce Agnus Dei, ecce qui tollit peccáta mundi. This quotes the Baptist again more fully regarding the Christ (cf. Jn 1.29).

Finally, the Last Gospel makes reference to the witness of John as one giving testimony of the Light.

The testimony of St. John the Baptist is so important to the liturgy of the Mass that the priest not only prays to, but with, him multiple times. Traditionally in the Roman Rite, the feasts of the Baptist were of the greatest importance after the feasts of Christ, the Virgin, and the Angels. This is reflected mightily in the Mass itself.

"Such an one was John, who regarded not the multitude, nor opinion, nor anything else belonging to men, but trod all this beneath his feet, and proclaimed to all with becoming freedom the things respecting Christ. And therefore the Evangelist marks the very place, to show the boldness of the loud-voiced herald. For it was not in a house, not in a corner, not in the wilderness, but in the midst of the multitude." —St. John Chrysostom

A Burning and Shining Light

(Pierre Puvis de Chavannes)

St. John’s Day is today, a celebration of the Nativity of the Forerunner. No other saint’s birth is celebrated in the liturgical kalendar, apart from the nativities of Christ and Mary. If the Josephites have their way, the stepfather of Christ will someday receive a similar feast, but for now we are spared that indignity.

Among those born of women, none have risen greater than John the Baptist, who was filled with the Holy Spirit in his sainted mother’s womb. None deserve to have universal side-chapels opposite the Virgin more than John, which would be a magnificent continuation of the ancient iconographic tradition of the Deësis. While the pre-ministerial years of Our Lord are shrouded in shadow, we know that he expressed a great affection for his cousin with many compliments:

“For John came to you in the way of justice, and you did not believe him.” (Mt. 21)

“He was a burning and a shining light, and you were willing for a time to rejoice in his light.” (Jn. 5)

“The baptism of John, was it from Heaven, or from men?” (Mk. 11)

“Amongst those that are born of women, there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist.” (Lk. 7)

“What went you out into the desert to see? a reed shaken with the wind? But what went you out to see? a man clothed in soft garments? Behold they that are clothed in soft garments, are in the houses of kings. But what went you out to see? a prophet? yea I tell you, and more than a prophet. For this is he of whom it is written: ‘Behold I send my angel before thy face, who shall prepare thy way before thee.’” (Mt. 11)

Angel, Burning Light, More Than a Prophet, Friend of the Bridegroom—the Forerunner is given the Messiah’s stamp of approval at every opportunity, even though John himself says that “He must increase, but I must decrease” (Jn. 3). But “he that shall humble himself shall be exalted” (Mt. 23), and thus the Church has historically placed him opposite the Virgin herself in his exalted intercessory position.

One can easily imagine The Baptist in a desert place as a young man, preparing for the mission ahead of him. Like the later desert hermits, the Devil must have sent his craftiest lieutenants against him, perhaps wondering if his imperviousness to temptation meant he was the promised Messiah.

John was a martyr, but not for baptizing nor for prophesying the Christ. He was murdered for one simple, repeated declaration: “It is not lawful for thee to have thy brother’s wife.” God could have permitted John to live well into the new dispensation, to witness the Crucifixion and Pentecost, and to be finally martyred as a Prophet of the Risen Christ. Perhaps it was not fitting that John should outshine the Twelve, or perhaps it was most fitting that the prelapsarian tradition of marriage should be witnessed bloodily by a sinless man even as Jesus was reestablishing its pre-Mosaic form. The strumpet Salome was herself the product of a broken marriage, a fitting image of contemporary times.

Even long after his death, the bones of St. John produced so many miracles that Julian the Apostate began to burn and pulverize them before the remaining relics were rescued. Today his cult has been pulverized: his feast cheapened into a yearly bonfire party, when it is celebrated at all, and his relics called into question by thoughtless bishops.

“For Herod feared John, knowing him to be a just and holy man, and kept him. And when he heard him, did many things, and he heard him willingly.” (Mk. 6)

But for the craftiness of Herod’s concubine, John would have lived and probably converted the king to repentance. Elijah, too, was harassed constantly by the witch-queen Jezabel. He escaped the persecution of the prophet-killer by a fiery chariot, but the Second Elijah was made to suffer and die for the perpetuation of the lie of Herodias’ marriage.

Centuries later, his namesake John Chrysostom would denounce the neo-pagan queen Aelia Eudoxia, who in her turn would depose and banish the bishop. “Again Herodias raves,” he preached, “again she is troubled; she dances again; and again desires to receive John’s head in a charger.” The golden-mouthed John would eventually die in exile from his bishopric.

“What peace? so long as the fornications of Jezabel thy mother, and her many sorceries are in their vigor.” (II Kg. 9)

There will be no peace until the wicked queen is thrown by her unmanned slaves to the dogs. There will be no peace until the birth of a true prophet is celebrated, until his father’s dumbness is released and his mother’s childless shame is removed.

Herod feared John, so did Herodias, and so should we.

The Beheading of John the Baptist in Tradition and Legend

(Andrea Solario)

From the 1910 Catholic Encyclopedia:

The honour paid so early and in so many places to the relics of St. John the Baptist, the zeal with which many churches have maintained at all times their ill-founded claims to some of his relics, the numberless churches, abbeys, towns, and religious families placed under his patronage, the frequency of his name among Christian people, all attest the antiquity and widespread diffusion of the devotion to the Precursor. The commemoration of his Nativity is one of the oldest feasts, if not the oldest feast, introduced into both the Greek and Latin liturgies to honour a saint.... The celebration of the Decollation [Beheading] of John the Baptist, on 29 August, enjoys almost the same antiquity. (Charles Souvay)

Becoming of one of the greatest saints, the recipient of protodulia, John’s feasts are ancient and multiple. In older martyrologies, the Conception of the Forerunner is feasted on September 24 (the 23rd in the East). His Nativity is of course celebrated nine months later at Midsummer, June 24. The Orthodox also have more Johannine feasts for the transferring of various relics.

(source)

St. Mark’s Gospel, strangely, has the longer account of St. John’s death:

Herod himself had sent and arrested John and put him in prison, in chains, for love of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, whom he had married; because John had told Herod, “It is wrong for thee to take thy brother’s wife.” Herodias was always plotting against him, and would willingly have murdered him, but could not, because Herod was afraid of John, recognizing him for an upright and holy man; so that he kept him carefully, and followed his advice in many things, and was glad to listen to him.

And now came a fitting occasion, upon which Herod gave a birthday feast to his lords and officers, and to the chief men of Galilee. Herodias’ own daughter came in and danced, and gave such pleasure to Herod and his guests that the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever thou wilt, and thou shalt have it;” he even bound himself by an oath, “I will grant whatever request thou makest, though it were a half of my kingdom.” Thereupon she went out and said to her mother, “What shall I ask for?” And she answered, “The head of John the Baptist.” With that, she hastened into the king’s presence and made her request; “My will is, she said, that thou shouldst give me the head of John the Baptist; give it me now, on a dish.” 

And the king was full of remorse, but out of respect to his oath and to those who sat with him at table, he would not disappoint her. So he sent one of his guard with orders that the head should be brought on a dish. This soldier cut off his head in the prison, and brought it on a dish, and gave it to the girl; and the girl gave it to her mother. When John’s disciples heard of it, they came and carried off his body, and laid it in a tomb. (Knox trans.)

(Gustave Moreau)

The Golden Legend speaks of the divine retribution wrought by the head of John the Baptist:

And in like wise as Herod was punished that beheaded Saint John, and Julian the apostate that burnt his bones, so was Herodias which counselled her daughter to demand the head of Saint John. And the maid that required it died right ungraciously and evil, and some say that Herodias was condemned in exile, but she was not, ne she died not there, but when she held the head between her hands she was much joyful, but by the will of God the head blew in her visage, and she died forthwith. This is said of some, but that which is said tofore, that she was sent in exile with Herod, and miserably ended her life, thus say saints in their chronicles and it is to be holden. And as her daughter went upon the water she was drowned anon, and it is said in another chronicle that the earth swallowed her in, all quick, and may be understood as of the Egyptians that were drowned in the Red Sea, so the earth devoured her.

(source)

There are multiple claimants to the relic of John’s skull, including San Silvestro in Rome (photographed above). The full collection of these skulls might fill a small closet shelf. The Legend again has many stories about the miraculous head throughout the ages. His bones were desecrated and burned by Julian the Apostate, but multiple pieces have survived to the modern day.

Feast of the Forerunner: What's in a Name?

St. Ambrose prominently mentions the significance of the Forerunner's naming in his commentary on Luke, read at Mattins today: "His name is John that is, it is not for us to choose a name now for him to whom God hath given a name already. He hath a name, which we know, but it is not one of our choosing." Augustine's teacher continues: "Thus was it that our Lord Jesus was named before He was born, with a name not given by an Angel, but by the Father. Thou seest that Angels tell that which they have been bidden to tell, not matters of their own choosing."

The Bible recounts many occasions when the Lord has given a man a new name a makes him a new person in that same moment. Abram became Abraham and the father of men as "numerous as the stars" in faith. Peter was not the first called of the Apostles—that honor went to Andrew—however he was made the "rock" upon which the Church was to be built; the "one church" and its "one chair" found its place in Peter, according to St Cyprian. Most famously in the New Testament is the case of St. Paul. Saul was a Jew keen not only on the Law, but the persecution of the Church; as Paul he would be the "doctor to the Gentiles" and the sower who planted the seeds for the conversion of the Mediterranean world. We continue this in part at Baptism and Confirmation when the neophyte receives a new name by which God knows the person and which replaces the colloquial name known in the prior life. The new name is new life and new creation.

None of this applies to John. He did not become anything. He was not refashioned into a new and better person. He was a man conceived of a woman like us, but born like Jesus and Mary, fully what God wanted him to be, fully holy, fully human. None of this would be so apparent had Zachariah not had to dispute his son's name with his wife. No one debated the name of Moses or Solomon. No one cared much about the name of John the Evangelist. They did care about the name of the Forerunner. His purpose and his purity were to him by God before he was even born. Abram, Simon, and Saul had to wait. What he was in the desert he was destined to be from eternity. 

He was fully human like us, and the prefigurement to the One Who was fully human and fully divine. "God became man," wrote St. Athanasius in On the Incarnation, "so that man might become God." Despite his perfection, St. John the Baptist was still a prophet of the old covenant, which possessed the Law, but not grace (John 1:17). John's humanity was one un-encumbered by sin and spent, likely, living in the desert with the Essenes—an aesthetic sect of Judaism which valued personal austerity over outward devotion. John did not have the grace of Sacraments, into which "Christ's work has passed" according to Leo the Great. He was the most a man of the old covenant could be. Christ, imbuing the Sacraments with divinity and allowing the recipients of them to receive God in fact and symbol, is its fulfillment and, worrisome for us, is the most a man of the new covenant could be. John had his name given to him by God. All those baptized have the name Christian, "little Christ."

“The Lord hath called me from the womb”

(Rogier van der Weyden)

[Some selections from Vespers on the Vigil of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist.]

Capitulum Responsory Hymnus Versus

Isa 49:1
Give ear, ye islands, and hearken, ye people from afar. The Lord hath called me from the womb, from the bowels of my mother he hath been mindful of my name. [v. 2: And he hath made my mouth like a sharp sword: in the shadow of his hand he hath protected me, and hath made me as a chosen arrow: in his quiver he hath hidden me.]
R. Thanks be to God.

R. Among them that are born of women * there hath not risen a greater
V. Than John the Baptist.

Hymnus:

Ut queant laxis resonare fibris

Mira gestorum famuli tuorum,

Solve polluti labii reatum,

Sancte Joannes.

Nuntius celso veniens Olympo,

Te patri magnum fore nasciturum,

Nomen, et vitae seriem gerendae

Ordine promit.

Ille promissi dubius superni,

Perdidit promptae modulos loquelae:

Sed reformasti genitus peremptae

Organa vocis.

Ventris obstruso recubans cubili,

Senseras Regem thalamo manentem:

Hinc parens nati meritis uterque

Abdita pandit.

Sit decus Patri, genitaeque Proli,

Et tibi compar utriusque virtus

Spiritus semper, Deus unus, omni

Temporis aevo.

Amen.

Englished:

O for thy spirit, holy John, to chasten

Lips sin-polluted, fettered tongues to loosen;

So by thy children might thy deeds of wonder

Meetly be chanted.

Lo! a swift herald, from the skies descending,

Bears to thy father promise of thy greatness;

How he shall name thee, what thy future story,

Duly revealing.

Scarcely believing message so transcendent,

Him for season power of speech forsaketh,

Till, at thy wondrous birth, again returneth

Voice to the voiceless.

Thou, in thy mother's womb all darkly cradled,

Knewest thy Monarch, biding in his chamber,

Whence the two parents, through their children's merits,

Mysteries uttered.

Praise to the Father, to the Son begotten,

And to the Spirit, equal power possessing,

One God whose glory, through the lapse of ages,

Ever resoundeth.

Amen.

(Tintoretto)

Sts. John, Zachary, and Elizabeth, pray for us!

Josephology Part 9: The Iconographic Demotion of John the Baptist

“You have very often heard, holy brethren, and you know well, that John the Baptist, in proportion as he was greater than those born of women, and was more humble in his acknowledgment of the Lord, obtained the grace of being the friend of the Bridegroom; zealous for the Bridegroom, not for himself; not seeking his own honor, but that of his Judge, whom as a herald he preceded.” –St. Augustine 

“From Holy Scripture we also learn that some souls through the divine predilection, as those of Jeremias and of the Baptist, were sanctified before they saw the light of day. Now, what shall we say of Joseph? The Church has never made any utterance on the subject. Still, Joseph surpasses all the other saints in dignity and sanctity.” –Edward Healy Thompson

~ 

Devotion to St. John the Forerunner began very early in the Church. In the West his Nativity and Beheading are both celebrated with major feasts, and in the East he has six feasts throughout the year. There were no fewer than fifteen churches dedicated to him in Constantinople alone. His relics were and are matters of great contention, some of which were desecrated by Julian the Apostate (331-363) because he knew this would greatly offend Christian sensibilities. The Feast of the Baptist’s Nativity is believed to be one of the oldest feasts commemorating a saint ever introduced to the calendar.

What a great contrast to the devotion to St. Joseph, which was almost unknown for a thousand years of the Church’s liturgical life. Unlike the Josephite devotion, which was artificially imposed from above at various times and never organically expanded among the faithful, devotion to the Baptist started strong and only increased until modern times. How strange that the exalted place of Our Lord’s Forerunner should be so suddenly supplanted in the hearts of Latin Catholics.

(St. Francis de Sales Oratory; St. Louis, Missouri)

(St. Joseph’s Catholic Church; Wapakoneta, Ohio)

John the Baptist we know with a high level of certainty to have been sanctified by the Holy Ghost in the womb of St. Elizabeth, and thus freed from concupiscence for the rest of his life. In this glory he is a peer of St. Jeremias the Prophet, and the lesser of Our Lady who was freed from sin from the first moment of conception. As St. Gabriel prophesied to Zachary, “he will be filled with the Holy Ghost, even from his mother’s womb” (Luke 1). Because of this he is generally considered to be the third holiest of all men.

In art, John is most often depicted in his beheading or during his ministry as the Forerunner. Frequently he is baptizing Christ or pointing Him out to his own disciples.

(Annibale Carracci)

But there is another subgenre of sacred art in which the Baptist is notably present. The icons of Christ Pantocrator or Christ in Majesty would sometimes include a full or partial court of angels of saints. An early 4th century example is the “Christ the Lawgiver” mosaic in the Basilica of San Lorenzo, Milan, where He is surrounded by the Twelve Apostles.

Another frequent variation depicts Christ surrounded by the four Cherubim who symbolize the four Gospels. This imagery comes almost verbatim from St. John the Apostle’s Apocalypse: “In the midst of the throne, and round about the throne, were four living creatures, full of eyes before and behind. And the first living creature was like a lion: and the second living creature like a calf: and the third living creature, having the face, as it were, of a man: and the fourth living creature was like an eagle flying” (Apoc. 4).

(Psalter of Westminster Abbey; 13th cent.)

Most relevant to our subject is the Deësis (“supplication”) variation, which shows Christ flanked on either side by the Blessed Virgin and John the Forerunner, both with heads bowed in prayer to the enthroned King. In the East, the Deësis is sometimes presented in the context of the heavenly court, although often with just the three figures.

(St. Sophia of Kyiv; 11th cent.)

(Walters Art Museum; 16th cent.)

In the West, the Deësis more frequently lent itself to depictions of the Last Judgment, where Mary and John are beseeching the Judge for mercy. These two saints were believed to be the greatest intercessors for clemency; hence, John is always invoked in the traditional Confiteor. (In some French cathedrals, Mary was paired with St. John the Apostle, just as they were together at the foot of the Cross.)

(Marx Reichlich; 16th cent.)

(Stefan Lochner; 15th cent.)

(Santa Maria d’Arties; 16th cent.)

There the Forerunner remained for many centuries, head bowed and knee bent before the awesome judgment seat of Christ, beseeching Him for mercy on behalf of all the faithful. But one is unlikely to find John there anymore. Instead, one is rather likely to find this sort of artistic monstrosity:

(Lawrence Lovasik; 20th cent.)

What could prompt Catholic sensibilities to supplant the Forerunner with the Stepfather of Our Lord? Do we wish to see St. Joseph as a kind of forerunner of the Forerunner, a precursor to the Precursor? Why do we prefer Joseph to John? I harbor a suspicion that it is because John is too ascetic for our tastes.

Joseph was a man who led a fairly average life, after all the drama of fleeing to Egypt and back. He is relatable: a man who worked for a living, an ordinary “family man” to whom extraordinary things happened—a sort of ancient, Jewish Bilbo Baggins. John, on the other hand, is too strange and extremist for bourgeois Catholic sensibilities. At one time, the sensus fidelium placed the Baptist as the complement of the Virgin, but that rough fur coat does not translate well to modern, pink-cheeked plaster statuary.

The modern Latin Catholic appeals to the Holy Family to restore the dignity of family life and to solidify the home with strong bonds of love, but the angel prophesied rather that it would be John who would “turn the hearts of the fathers unto the children” (Lk. 1). Remember that John died for the sanctity of marriage, opposing divorce and adultery with his dying breath. He even won the respect of the wicked Herod: “For Herod feared John, knowing him to be a just and holy man: and kept him, and when he heard him, did many things: and he heard him willingly” (Mark 6). Sometimes the wicked respect those who stand against them on principle, and are open to being convinced of their errors. Herodias had John executed because she feared Herod would be convinced to divorce her. Those who have gained worldly power through licentiousness have the most to fear from moral truth.

Perhaps it is this rough, eremitic extremism that will paradoxically revive love in the family. Those who forcefully oppose the family’s disintegration are the ones who love it the most, whether they are married or not.

St. Joseph, not such a bad guy after all, pray for us!

St. John the Baptist, Ordinary Time & Us

source: wikipedia.org

"This is my first time wearing a green stole," said the gleeful deacon, recently ordained on St. Joseph's day during Lent. It was the Monday after Pentecost Sunday and a deacon, priest, and his all Traddiness were in the sacristy of an English church preparing for Mass. "I like Ordinary time," he continued.

"There is no such though," I rebutted.

"Now don't get me started!"

"Gentlemen," interjected the priest, "it is time for Mass now."

To this day I do not believe in "Ordinary time," that prolonged green season turgid with readings that have no natural cycle to them and which, somehow, masks all but a few feasts. Recently we relaxed our festivities after the fifty days of celebrating the Resurrection and then the octave of Pentecost. Now we should be returning to a more general consideration of the mysteries of Christ and a penitential spirit. Personally I interpret the kalendar differently from most traditionalists and reformers. In my view the temporal and sanctoral cycles could be eschewed as categories in favor of "Time of Christ" and "Time of Mysteries." The period from the first Sunday of Advent until Pentecost Sunday re-live the actual life and ministry of Christ, His salvific work on our behalf, His Incarnation, Passion, Resurrection, Ascension, and the sending of the Spirit. The second part, the "Time of Mysteries"—a poorly concocted and spontaneous title—is the time to reflect on what the things Christ did actually mean and how they should influence us. The Church does not return to strict penance and fasting after None on Ember Saturday, but rather begins the celebration of Trinity Sunday, finally celebrating the Godhead completely revealed to mankind. The Jews knew God, but only as one person and not as a Father. Christ revealed Him as a Father and, after the Resurrection, was known to His Apostles as God. And through the Holy Spirit the Triune God became known to the entire world. Of course the Trinity was revealed at the Baptism in the Jordan, but the Trinity was not comprehended or realized until some time later, after the Ascension.

Then we came to Corpus Christi, the feast of the Body of Christ. The Church is a Sacramental body, the "Body of Christ" as St. Paul wrote to the Church at Corinth. The Eucharist is, more than bricks and mortar, the fabric of the Church. 

Now, only two weeks removed from Pentecost, we are asked to celebrate and consider St. John the Baptist. Pentecost, as I wrote here, is a feast concerned with baptizing people into the Risen Christ and diffusing the Church through the whole of the world. With John the Forerunner we return to Baptism. St. John is, more than any other saint I think, the archetype of what the Christian should be. He was given a name different from his father's, one that was to be special to God. St. Ambrose wrote:

"His name is John that is, it is not for us to choose a name now for him to whom God hath given a name already. He hath a name, which we know, but it is not one of our choosing. To receive a name from God is one of the honours of the Saints. Thus was it that Jacob's name was no more called Jacob but Israel, because he saw God face to face. Thus was it that our Lord Jesus was named before He was born, with a name not given by an Angel, but by the Father. "

He was a holy man from the womb, proclaiming the presence of Christ before birth and continuing to do so more perfectly after. And above all he pointed those attracted to him towards Jesus. Is this not our lot?

We did not proclaim Christ in the womb perhaps, but at Baptism we became saints, "holy ones," in a new birth, having been reborn of "water and the Holy Spirit." At Baptism and Confirmation we are given names used before God and the Church. In our Baptism we are called both to repent, as was John's call of baptism, and to live a new life sanctified by the Resurrection of Christ, as is the Baptism of Trinity. And above all we must point to Christ for others. Most of us will not have particularly interesting or noteworthy lives. Our spiritual battlefield is the office, the classroom, the home, the restaurant. There are myriad ways to show God in these settings if only we have the fortitude to ask for the opportunity. Before Christ rose from the dead and gave us the Trinitarian Baptism, St. John showed us what Baptism does, completing his place as the Forerunner to our Lord Jesus Christ.

St. John the Baptist, pray for us.