Details can be found at many news outlets, including New York Times: https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.nytimes.com/2019/04/22/world/asia/sri-lanka-attacks-bombings-explosions-updates.amp.html
Aupetit told the congregation, “We, too, brothers and sisters, we will rise again, just like our cathedral will rise again.”
Read more at LA Times: https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.latimes.com/world/la-fg-paris-notre-dame-prayers-20190421-story.html%3foutputType=amp
And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit.
And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And the earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened. And many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised, and coming out of the tombs after his resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many. When the centurion and those who were with him, keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were filled with awe and said, “Truly this was the Son of God!”
(Matthew 28: 50-54)
One of the most shocking of these aspects of the New Testament accounts of the death of Jesus is the spontaneous tearing of the massive “temple veil”. This is generally thought to have been the barrier that guarded the entrance to the “holy of holies”, the sacred space into which only the high priest could enter; However, this isn’t perfectly clear, and could also refer to an outer court veil that would be more visible. Naturally, secular historians don’t believe that this actually occurred, and even Christians, who accept it on faith, treat it as a minor footnote between the agonies of Jesus’ death and the glories of the Resurrection, which is a much more impressive miracle.
Intriguingly, extra-biblical sources do also attest to some weird goings on at the Jewish temple, in about the year 30. In an interesting article entitled, “Something Awry in the Temple?” Robert L. Plummer, a New Testament professor at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, reviews six of these sources, which include the Jerusalem Talmud, Babylonian Talmud, the Midrash Rabbah, and the writings of Josephus.
The Jerusalem Talmud presents four disturbing and inauspicious signs:
It has been taught: Forty years before the destruction of the Temple the western light went out, the crimson thread remained crimson, and the lot for the Lord always came up in the left hand. They would close the gates of the Temple by night and get up in the morning and find them wide open. Said [to the Temple] Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai, “O Temple, why do you frighten us? We know that you will end up destroyed. For it has been said, ‘Open your doors, O Lebanon, that the fire may devour your cedars!’” (Zech 11:1).17
In a work known as “the lives of the prophets”, dating to the first quarter of the first century, an oracle attributed to “Habakkuk” states:
At that time,” he said, “the curtain of the Dabeir [that is, the temple curtain separating the Holy from the Holy of Holies] will be torn into pieces, and the capitals of the two pillars will be taken away, and no one will know where they are; and they will be carried away by angels into the wilderness, where the tent of witness was set up in the beginning. And by means of them the Lord will be recognized at the end, for they will illuminate those who are being pursued by the serpent in darkness as from the beginning.”
Josephus’ account mentions the spontaneous opening of the eastern door, as well as other portents, including a comet, the shining of a mysterious bright light from the altar, and a heifer that had been brought in for slaughter mysteriously giving birth before it could be slain. An earthquake in the Temple grounds was also reported, as relayed by Plummer:
For purposes of confirming the NT records, it is significant that Josephus speaks of an earthquake that was felt in the temple precincts. According to Josephus, this earthquake was accompanied by a loud sound—like the sound of many voices—which some present interpreted as saying, “Let us depart from here” (not a particularly auspicious statement). Josephus dates this particular event to an unnamed Pentecost preceding the destruction of the temple.
It should be noted that these stories differ significantly from each other, and from the Gospels. Furthermore, the dating of these stories cannot be correlated precisely to what we would call “Good Friday.” But they do testify to a belief on the part of Jewish people, that some mysterious portents occurred in and around the Temple, around the year 30.
Sources:
1. Holy Bible, English Standard Version.
2. Plummer, Robert L, “Something Awry In the Temple? The Rending of the Temple Veil and Early Jewish Sources That Report Unusual Phenomena In The Temple Around AD 30.” Journal of the Evangelical Theologicsl Society 48 (June 2005): 301–316. Online at:
https://www.etsjets.org/files/JETS-PDFs/48/48-2/48-2-pp301-316_JETS.pdf
Palm Sunday looks back to “The Triumphal Entry” of Jesus into Jerusalem, just before his death, when adoring crowds waved palm branches and shouted “Hosanna!” as Jesus entered the city. In many churches these ceremonies take on almost a cheerful and festive tone, a kind of foretaste of Easter. The rest of Holy Week reverts back to the solemnity of Lent, with Good Friday being a focal point—we look back through the corridor of time to Jesus lifting his bloodied head one last time as he hangs from those dreadful crossed planks; He cries out in a loud voice as he slumps into death, and the land is covered in an eerie blackness. By Easter Sunday, the tomb of Jesus is empty and churches explode into full-on celebration. Even fairly dormant mainline Protestant churches will, for one glorious day, be overflowing with people. Some of their left-leaning pastors will even deign to choke out an orthodox sermon for the occasion.
A part of me is glad for the coming of Easter. Austerity, discipline, and penitence are not always fun. I am sitting here at what could be “happy hour”, sipping tea in place of my usual Manhattan or Gin and Tonic, because one of my own Lenten observances is to give up alcohol; in just over a week I’ll permit myself to enjoy those libations again.
Lent is, of course, a voluntary observance. It’s not something you’ll find in the Bible. You can have Christianity without it, and many people do. Still, I appreciate Lent. It may not be “fun”, but it is spiritually enriching. I embrace it willingly, and even look forward to it. I feel that I get an enhanced sense of clarity and perspective, even joy, from the increased attention to my spiritual well-being. Even though the Christian life is a 24 hr/day, 365 day-per-year endeavor, I yet find it useful to have seasons that focus our energies in particular ways.
By not drinking that Manhattan, my mind is almost forced to obey the command of Colossians 3:2: “Set your affections on things above.” It must be something akin what a runner feels when training—All that exercise and giving up sweets has had its benefits.
So, I will raise my glass of ice tea to you as a toast. There’s still some time to fast and pray, if you feel so moved, before the dawn of Easter.
Walk through one of our local hospitals and you’ll find ministers and laypeople of all varieties of Christian denominations, praying with and for the sick and dying. The recipients of such prayer are usually grateful.
But being prayed for is not always well received. In fact, in portions of the South the words “I’ll pray for you” (delivered with an air of condescension) can be a stinging insult—an odious assertion from one whose facade of perfection is intact, that yours is not.
Beyond this, though, some people are apparently triggered by well intended offerings of “thoughts and prayers” by ordinary people in the wake of tragedies, such as the depressingly frequent mass shootings that have taken place in schools and workplaces. A CNN article from 2018 describes How ‘thoughts and prayers’ went from common condolence to cynical meme”. Author A.J. Willingham tells us that “The phrase has gone from sincere to funny, but not in a ha-ha way.”
Today, in the wake of the tragic suicide of Jeremy Richman, father of Sandy Hook shooting victim Avielle Richman, an editorial in the Hartford Courant screams “Keep the thoughts and prayers and ban AR-15s instead”:
The mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, daughters, sons, wives, husbands and other family members whose lives have been broken by mass shootings don’t need thoughts and prayers. What they need — what we all need — is to get military-style assault weapons off our streets, out of our schools and out of our lives
Now, this is a disturbing sentiment, and I’ll explain my reaction to this momentarily. I’ll leave the gun control issue aside—You’ll find that Christians are on both sides of the gun control debate (I’m generally for stricter gun control laws).
Furthermore, I’ll acknowledge some merit to the idea that prayers should be accompanied by deeds. Christians agree with this. Jesus taught this (for example, in the “Parable of the Good Samaritan”). James wrote that “faith without works is dead”. We don’t just sit around in meditation booths and marinate in our own thoughts—that’s dead faith. Pope Francis, who is spiritual leader over no small number of Christians, is quoted as saying “Prayer that doesn’t lead to concrete action toward our brothers is a fruitless and incomplete prayer” … “prayer and action must always be profoundly united.” (Catholic News Agency)
So why do I find myself disturbed by the editorial rather than shouting “amen”? Well, in one headline an editor has managed to crassly politicize a personal tragedy, and also to insult a host of ordinary people who would like to express empathy and kindness. Even looking at only the “thoughts” side of this maligned phrase, as Ben Rowan notes in The Atlantic:
For those that aren’t religious and do not pray, according to Ladd, the first half of “thoughts and prayers” offers a secularized alternative—much like “happy holidays” is to “merry Christmas.” It allows participation in the same communal ritual, which can compel a sense of social cohesion.
Essentially the sentiment “Keep your thoughts to yourself” comes across to me as “share my political beliefs or F*€k off.” Kindness itself is being assaulted here. Kindness which is offered to others indiscriminately allows for connection beyond the differences of religion and other barriers, and is a stitch in the fabric of society. Eliminate such small scale kindness and empathy and we move one step closer to disintegration.
On the topic of prayer, it should be recognized that this Hartford Courant editorial is not a Christian critique inviting Christians to reflect on the need to back prayer with action. This is rather a cynical and secular critique that sees prayer as inaction. The assumption appears to be that prayer is not needed because it is ineffective. It is a self gratifying form of meditation at best, a mere murmuring into the void, since no one is on the other end actually listening to prayers. To the hordes of people who believe in God and the power of prayer, this kind of message comes across as a slap, a repudiation of their beliefs; it sounds like, “if you are the sort who prays, then get lost; we don’t need your kind.”
However, Christians pray not out of timidity in the face of existential emptiness, nor out of guilt, nor as a weapon of oppression against nonbelievers. We pray because we are commanded to do so, by none other than Jesus himself. Not praying is not an option for us. We are furthermore told that despite all the mysteries surrounding prayer, it actually works. “The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much” says James 5:16.
So to my fellow Christians I would say “pray on.” Do couple prayer with appropriate actions—God could do it all, but for reasons that are mysterious, God often chooses us to be the instruments of Divine mercy and aid. Even pray for those who see themselves as your enemy, for those who irrationally hate you for not being progressive enough, and who tell you to “keep your prayers”; for as Jesus said, in his famous Sermon on the Mount:
“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.(Matthew 5:43-44)
To those who receive these expressions of “thoughts and prayers” in the midst of tragedy, I would encourage you to try to accept the sentiment with some grace and forebearance, and try to love those whom you see as enemies. I would ask you to see these particular words as at the very least an expression of empathy and common humanity. At most, they are an earnest attempt by Christians to actually do something.
(Note: Scripture references are from the Holy Bible, English Standard Version).
“When I say it’s you I like, I’m talking about that part of you that knows that life is far more than anything you can ever see or hear or touch. That deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive. Love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed.”
”The difference between Patrick’s magic and the magic of the druids is that in Patrick’s world all beings and events come from the hand of a good God, who loves human beings and wishes them success.”
”With the Irish — even with the kings — he succeeded beyond measure. Within his lifetime or soon after his death, the Irish slave trade came to a halt, and other forms of violence, such as murder and intertribal warfare, decreased.”
Whether or not you are Irish, or Roman Catholic, or even Christian, it might be argued that you in fact owe a lot to St. Patrick. Christians—of all varieties—should be especially grateful to him. While it is hard to tease fact from myth, it is clear that this giant of the faith was instrumental in converting the Celtic people of Ireland to Christianity.
These Christians in turn would be instrumental in planting centers of learning in continental Europe after the collapse of Rome. This is an argument that was made in a delightful little book I read many years ago: Thomas Cahill’s How The Irish Saved Civilization (New York: Anchor Books, 1995). His introduction summarizes his thesis:
”Ireland, a little island at the edge of Europe that has known neither Renaissance nor Enlightenment—in some ways, a Third World country with, as John Betjeman claimed, a Stone Age culture—had one moment of unblemished glory. For, as the Roman Empire fell, as all through Europe matted, unwashed barbarians descended on the Roman cities, looting artifacts and burning books, the Irish, who were just learning to read and write, took up the great labor of copying all of western literature—everything they could lay their hands on. These scribes then served as conduits through which the Greco-Roman and Judeo-Christian cultures were transmitted to the tribes of Europe, newly settled amid the rubble and ruined vineyards of the civilization they had overwhelmed. Without this Service of the Scribes, everything that happened subsequently would have been unthinkable. Without the Mission of the Irish Monks, who single-handedly refounded European civilization throughout the continent in the bays and valleys of their exile, the world that came after them would have been an entirely different one—a world without books. And our own world would never have come to be.”
Not all will agree with the strongest form of this assertion (after all, some of the classic writings of antiquity may have survived the predations of barbarian hordes; furthermore some credit is probably owed also to Islamic scholars and the Byzantine empire). Nonetheless Irish monks clearly played a role that had been been overlooked and under-appreciated.
Today I tip my green plastic hat to the Irish, and to the man who in middle age returned as a missionary to a people that he could easily have despised for kidnapping him at age 16.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
that dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return”
(Words upon imposition of ashes, Ash Wednesday)
“In essentials, unity.
In nonessentials, diversity.
In all things, love!”
The early bishop and martyr Polycarp, whose feast is celebrated on Feb 23, was involved in a dispute that is a model of Christian brotherhood in the midst of disagreement. The dispute is known by the obscure name “Quartodecimanism” from a Latin term meaning “fourteenth”.
The controversy arose because Christians in Jerusalem and Asia Minor, following guidance from the Apostle John, chose to celebrate Passover on the 14th day of the “first month”. They felt that the crucifixion of Jesus should carry the emphasis, and that this day should be the principle feast for Christians. On the other hand, churches in and around Rome had changed the principle celebration to the following Sunday (as is the commonplace today for most Christians). The dispute became quite heated at times, leading almost to excommunications.
We have a record of how Polycarp and his opponent treated each other on this issue:
And when the blessed Polycarp was at Rome in the time of Anicetus, and they disagreed a little about certain other things, they immediately made peace with one another, not caring to quarrel over this matter. For neither could Anicetus persuade Polycarp not to observe what he had always observed with John the disciple of our Lord, and the other apostles with whom he had associated; neither could Polycarp persuade Anicetus to observe it as he said that he ought to follow the customs of the presbyters that had preceded him. But though matters were in this shape, they communed together, and Anicetus conceded the administration of the eucharist in the church to Polycarp, manifestly as a mark of respect. And they parted from each other in peace, both those who observed, and those who did not, maintaining the peace of the whole church.
(Eusebius, quoting a letter by Irenaus, available at earlychurchtexts.com)
Eventually the debate was settled, and the Roman practice prevailed, though a few holdouts persisted into the fourth century. Today Easter Sunday is the biggest feast on the Calendar for Christians throughout the world.
Other sources:
Campbell, T. (1907). Pope St. Anicetus. In The Catholic Encyclopedia. New York: Robert Appleton Company. Retrieved February 25, 2018 from New Advent: http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/01514a.htm
Byrd: Senex puerum portabat
Senex puerum portabat:
puer autem senem regebat:
quem virgo peperit,
et post partum virgo permansit:
ipsum quem genuit, adoravit.
translation by William Mahrt
The old man carried the child,
but the child ruled the old man;
him whom the Virgin brought forth,
and after childbirth remained a virgin
him whom she bore, she adored.