Wednesday, February 17, 2021

Symbolism in the Bethlehem Birth of Jesus

Nov 16, 2010 Michael Streich

Each Bethlehem Participant is Symbolic - Mike Streich Photo Image

The birth of Jesus as recorded in the Gospels symbolizes a universal society and opens the door to modern embellishment and interpretation.

The birth of Jesus as celebrated at Christmas by Christians has been interpreted in many ways. The New Testament books Matthew and Luke provide the most comprehensive, if rudimentary, versions of the Bethlehem story. Matthew focuses on the Magi or wise men from the East while Luke highlights the response and role of the shepherds. Even King Herod figures into the story, adding a distinctly political perspective to the birth of Jesus. Much of the traditional Christmas “crèche,” popularized by St. Francis of Assisi, is an embellishment. But the symbols of the Bethlehem birth still resonate.

The Symbolic Role of the Bethlehem Shepherds

Shepherds were people of the land, pastoral, and associated with the oldest profession in the ancient world, perhaps even predating agriculture. This is alluded to in Genesis. Abel was a “keeper of sheep” (Genesis 4.2) and pleased God while his older brother, Cain, was involved in agricultural pursuits. Both brothers offered a sacrifice. Abel’s was pleasing and accepted; Cain’s was not.

This story from the Old Testament demonstrates that from earliest times, God, or whatever creator force or being was being placated, preferred the role of the shepherd. In Psalm 23, a Psalm of David – himself a shepherd who rose to be king, the reader is reminded that the “Lord is my shepherd.” This same divine shepherd used his “rod and staff” to “comfort” or protect.

The shepherds who came to the manger in Luke had been visited by angels – a heavenly ensemble that celebrated the birth of the Messiah. They represented the ordinary people, the hard working masses. Being a shepherd was no easy task; it was difficult work and demanded the attention of the shepherd around the clock.

King Herod and the Political Perspective

Herod was a very paranoid ruler. When the wise men from the east came to him inquiring about the birth of a new king, he became concerned and called advisers to discern where this possible usurper was to be born. From Old Testament prophetic literature, they interpreted the birth of the long awaited Messiah.

But the wise men, after finding Jesus, never returned to Herod. Warned in a dream, they returned to Persia after leaving their gifts. The wise men or Magi are symbolic of several things: hidden knowledge, intellectual knowledge, philosophy, and the search for truth.

They based their quest, significantly, on a star. Charles B. William’s translation of the New Testament refers to them as “stargazers.” The New American Standard Bible calls them Magi. They were definitely not “kings” and no actual number is given. Their names are of Medieval origin.

Future Political Perspectives on Jesus

Jesus was no Henry David Thoreau who refused to pay taxes in support of the Mexican-American War. In Matthew 22.15ff he responded to the Roman poll tax by saying, “Pay Caesar, therefore, what belongs to Caesar, and pay God what belongs to God.” The 16th Century Reformer Martin Luther used this text to differentiate between church and state.

In Matthew 17.24ff, Jesus actually pays the temple tax, but not out of the funds held by his Apostles. The coin is retrieved from a fish by Simon Peter. It can be argued that by paying the imperial and local taxes, Jesus separated God’s kingdom from the kingdom of man (separation of church and state) and even, indirectly, accepted the rule of Rome.

When before Pilate at his trial, the people of Jerusalem clamored for the release of Barabbas, a man of action, over the meek and shepherdly Jesus. Yet the Jewish forces of insurrection, identified with men like Barabbas, would be destroyed while the humble “good shepherd” (John 10.11-14) would found a mighty and global religious movement.

Symbolism of the Magi or Wise Men from the East

Whatever their number, these travelers represent the hidden knowledge of the ancient world, the esoteric ideals that Rome associated with the many “mystery cults.” Their pedigree predated Rome and their deeper understanding was universally respected. They relied on astronomy and astrology, focusing on a particular star to guide them.

They never questioned the humble and decidedly poor conditions associated with the birth of Jesus. Ancient history was full of such tales. Sargon the Great was floated down the Euphrates River in a basket as a baby, retrieved, and forged the first Mesopotamian Empire. The same can be said of the legends about Moses. Cyrus the Great was brought up from birth by humble peasants, according to the Greek historian Herodotus. Why should this child in Bethlehem be any different?

The Bethlehem Birth of Jesus as Symbolic of all Mankind

Each participant in the Bethlehem story reflects an aspect of humankind. Joseph was a carpenter, a skilled craftsman. Mary was the vulnerable birth mother whose strength rested in her faith, supplied by angelic guidance.

The Shepherds represented the hard working peasants while the wise men symbolized knowledge and learning. Herod, the arch-villain in this story, was the duplicitous politician, willing to kill any potential claimant to his throne.

Almost two thousand years have sanitized the Bethlehem story. The animals in the manger – not specified in any account, are docile, recognizing the Creator made flesh. Hymns and stories embellish the story. The very date of the Bethlehem birth, December 24th, is highly improbable.

But symbols satisfy everyday people that long for a spiritual dimension in their lives. Christmas in July or August is a commercial stunt, although it might be closer to the truth. The Bethlehem birth of Jesus offers a wide array of symbolic meanings, good and evil characters, and the starting point of Christianity.

Sources:

Herbert Lockyer, All the Trades and Occupations of the Bible (Zondervan, 1969)
New American Standard Bible (The Lockman Foundation, 1963)
Charles B. Williams, The New Testament in the Language of the People (Moody Press, 1963)

Monday, February 15, 2021

Causes of the Hundred Years War in 1337

Oct 29, 2010 Michael Streich

Causes of the Hundred Years War - Mike Streich Photo

While an immediate cause of the Hundred Years War was Philip VI's confiscation of Gascony, the chief cause involved Edward III's claim to the French throne.

The Hundred Years’ War began in 1337 after many years of struggle between England and France. The immediate cause of the war was tied to the region of Gascony, confiscated in 1337 by French king Philip VI on the basis that Edward III of England, who had a hereditary legal right to the land, had not shown him proper homage. Other reasons, however, formed the foundation of conflict, chief of which was Edward himself as a potential claimant to the French throne.

French and English Conflicts over Commercial Interests

The English in the early 14th Century still controlled large sections of France, including the wealthy Aquitaine. Revenues from this province alone dwarfed all internal English taxation. Ships leaving the Aquitaine, however, were subject to naval attacks by French pirates. In reprisal, English pirates attacked French shipping.

Another cause of friction involved Flanders and the English woolen industry. Export duties represented large revenue sums for the English king.

In the years before the war, unrest in Flanders between the wealthy merchants and the artisans and craftsmen resulted in the Count of Flanders turning to the French king for help. The English sensed that France was attempting to tamper with the lucrative wool industry at England’s expense.

Philip VI Sends Assistance to the Scots

Another immediate cause of conflict involved Edward III’s continued attempts to subdue the Scots, a struggle that had been in progress for many years. Philip VI encouraged French knights to travel to Scotland and assist the enemies of Edward.

Edward III Becomes a Credible Rival for the French Throne in 1328

Edward III was the son of Edward II and his French wife, Isabella. Edward II died in 1327 during a power struggle between Isabella and her lover, Roger Mortimer. In 1330, at the age of eighteen, Edward III arrested his mother, executed Mortimer, and began his rule. It was through Isabella, however, that Edward’s claim to the French throne rested.

Isabella was the daughter of French King Philip IV who died in 1314. Of his three sons, only Louis X conceived a male heir. The child died in 1316, the same year Louis X died. Neither Philip V nor Charles IV – who died in 1328, produced male heirs.

In the 14th Century, it was inconceivable that a woman could rule. Thus, with Isabella ineligible, the only other legitimate male heir in 1328 was her son who also happened to be Edward III, King of England.

The French Turn to Philip VI of the House of Valois

Philip VI was the nephew of Philip IV through Charles, Count of Valois. The French nobility had no intentions of honoring Edward’s claim. Chosen as King of France in 1328, Philip not only became the rival of Edward III, but insofar as some of Edward’s French land claims like Gascony, his lord under the old Feudal customs. It was on this basis that Philip confiscated Gascony in 1337.

Unlike Edward III, Philip lacked leadership skills and demonstrated a heightened paranoia about everyone around him. He enjoyed the pomp of court life and frivolous entertainment. Philip was wholly inadequate in the task of carrying on a war against Edward who was loved by his people and was a superb soldier and leader.

The Hundred Years’ War Decided who Controlled France

Spanning most of the ill-fated 14th-Century, the Hundred Years’ War ultimately decided who controlled France. By the time the series of battles ended, few recalled the causes of the war and Western Europe was changed dramatically from an age of chivalry to a pre-modern society.

Sources:

Christopher Allmand, The Hundred Years War: England and France at War c. 1300-c. 1450 (Cambridge University Press, 1988)
Desmond Seward, The Hundred Years War: The English in France, 1337-1453 (Atheneum, 1978)
Jonathan Sumption, The Hundred Years War I: Trial by Battle (University of Pennsylvania Press, 1990)

Effects of the Hundred Years War

Oct 30, 2010 Michael Streich

Agincourt was one of the Last Battles of the War - Wikimedia Commons Image

The Hundred Years' War took Europe from the Middle Ages into the pre-modern period, changing warfare and developing a mood of early nationalism.

The Hundred Years’ War started in 1337 but lasted until 1453. It was a conflict that began with mounted knights and the waning code of chivalry but ended with primitive canons and the use of gunpowder. The long series of battles, representative of the different phases of the war, resulted in a spirit of early nationalism and, at least in England, increased the civil bureaucracy. The Hundred Years’ War characterized a transition for England and France from the medieval to the early pre-modern period. By 1453, only Calais remained in English hands, leaving a clearly defined France, at least geographically.

English Yeomen Archers against French Mounted Knights

At the start of the war in 1337, English king Edward III had more money to wage war than Philip VI of France, although the overall resources of both nations were equal. England employed the use of yeomen infantry armed with the longbow, an influence of the Welsh who had, in earlier years, opposed the English under Edward I.

English bowmen could shoot ten to twelve arrows a minute, each one capable of piercing chain mail, while the French, using the traditional crossbow, could only fire two arrows per minute. Edward III relied heavily upon his archers to stop the French mounted knights. This strategy was successful throughout the war, beginning with Crecy and Poitier and ending at Agincourt.

Effects of the Hundred Years War on English Government

The on-going Anglo-French conflict resulted in the expansion of government bureaucracy and Parliamentary interference with royal endeavors. Wars cost money and although the English Parliament raised funds, as in 1341, they served to remind the king that no direct taxes would be approved without the approval of Parliament.

But the English monarchy became unstable after the death of Edward III in 1377. Edward’s son, Edward, the Prince of Wales (also known as the “Black Prince”), died of plague a year before his father. Not until the second decade of the 15th Century would England be led by a king of the stature of Edward III, and that was Henry V.

After the Hundred Years’ War

Despite Henry V’s victory at Agincourt in 1415, France prevailed in the conflict. In 1429, an obscure young female named Joan arrived in Chinon to convince the French dauphin that she was sent by God to rid the land of the hated English. After raising the siege of Orleans, Joan enabled the heir apparent to be crowned king at Rheims.

By 1450 the English were beaten, forced to return to England and endure the War of the Roses before finally settling an internal peace under the Tudor dynasty. In France, the monarchy would spend decades consolidating power over powerful provincial nobles. Not until the reign of Louis XIV, the “Sun King,” in the 17th Century, would France be fully attuned to an absolutist monarch who controlled the restless French nobility.

Effects of the Hundred Years War on Military Traditions

Chivalry ended in the Hundred Years’ War. The rules of conflict changed. Cannons became a regular feature of siege warfare and gunpowder changed military strategies. In many ways, the Hundred Years’ War was a “military revolution” that forced Europe to adapt. In 1490, for example, the powerful Venetian city-state replaced bowmen with trained gunners.

The use of cavalry would remain as a core element of military preparedness until World War I, but the notion of knights clad in heavy chain mail ended. City walls were strengthened – as evidenced by the Italian city-states, to accommodate the new warfare. The ending of the Hundred Years’ War coincided with significant social, cultural, and intellectual changes in Western European history.

Sources:

Christopher Allmand, The Hundred Years War: England and France at War c. 1300-c. 1450 (Cambridge University Press, 1988)
Desmond Seward, The Hundred Years War: The English in France, 1337-1453 (Atheneum, 1978)
Jonathan Sumption, The Hundred Years War I: Trial by Battle (University of Pennsylvania Press, 1990)

Sunday, February 14, 2021

Lost Opportunity to Stop the Holocaust?

Michael Streich

Pope Pious XI died in February 1939, leaving unfinished a final encyclical that his successor, Pious XII, chose not to promulgate. Historians and theologians have long suggested that Humani Generis Unitas may have represented a significant statement of justice that might have postponed or even prevented the Holocaust much like the earlier encyclical, Mit Brennender Sorge, lessened state interference with Catholic doctrine. Connor O’Brien, writing in the April 27^th, 1989 New York Review of Books, refers to the 1939 encyclical as a possible “lost chance to save the Jews.”

Two Concurrent Goals

Both National Socialism and the Catholic hierarchy feared Communism. It was this mutual hatred that initially led prominent prelates to support the Hitler regime. According to Cardinal Faulhaber, Pope Pious XI praised Adolph Hitler, “for his stand…against Communism.” Guenter Lewy, in his book The Catholic Church and Nazi Germany, states that both Pious XI and Pious XII, “were preoccupied with the threat of Communism and therefore showed considerable benevolence to both Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany.” These attitudes would change as the Hitler regime began its systematic racial persecutions that culminated in the Final Solution.

Voices of Opposition

What was perceived as growing neopaganism in the German Reich was addressed in 1937 through Pious XI’s encyclical, Mit Brennender Sorge (“With Burning Concern”). The papal letter was smuggled into Germany and read in every church, incurring the wrath of the Nazis. Although addressing issues of religious freedom, it marked a turning point in the relationship between Berlin and the Vatican.

By early 1939 Humani Generis Unitas (“On the Unity of Humanity”) was prepared for Pious XI’s review. Sub-section 132 addresses “the present persecution of the Jews” and carries a strong message decrying anti-Semitism. Sub-section 152, a summary conclusion titled “Doing the Truth,” urges for “a vigorous condemnation of anti-Semitism and racism” and relates this to “the cause of justice and charity.” Prepared as a draft by two Jesuits, the pope may never have even seen it before his death. Pope Pious XII was elected in March 1939 and refused to publish it. According to Michael Phayer in his book, The Catholic Church and the Holocaust:1930-1965, “diplomacy would now take precedence over justice.”

Speculation and Confrontation

Could Humani Generis Unitas have slowed the persecution of Jews or even averted the Holocaust? Conor O’Brien believes it could have and writes that, “the failure to publish…was one of the greatest and most tragic missed opportunities in history.” To what extent might the November 1938 horrors of Kristallnacht have influenced Pious XI had he lived beyond March 1939?

In 1941, Clement von Galen, bishop of Muenster, delivered a sermon that Sociologist Gordon Zahn calls, “the single most stirring statement of Episcopal opposition to the Nazi rule.” Galen, elevated to the Cardinalate after the war, slowed state euthanasia policies. The argument can be made that if the Nazis “backed down” in 1941, might they have moderated their treatment of Jews in 1939 had this unpublished encyclical been promulgated?

How Hitler might have reacted is, of course, speculation. The Nazis dealt with Catholic opposition ruthlessly. Maximillian Kolbe and Edith Stein died in Auschwitz. Both were canonized by Pope John Paul II. In matters of social justice, Bishop Galen said it best: “it is better to die than to sin.”

Sources:

Humani Generis Unitas

Lewy, Guenter, The Catholic Church and Nazi Germany (New York: McGraw Hill, 1964)

O’Brien, Conor Cruise, “A Lost Chance to Save the Jews?” The New York Review of Books, Vol. 36, No. 7, April 27, 1989

Phayer, Michael, The Catholic Church and the Holocaust 1930-1965 (Indiana University Press, 2000)

Zahn, Gordon, German Catholics and Hitler’s Wars (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1962)

Copyright owned by Michael Streich. Any republishing of any kind requires written permission. First published in Suite101

Saturday, February 13, 2021

The Endurance of Luther's 1517 Reformation

Political and Secular Considerations Enabled Successful Reform

Nov 23, 2008

By 1517 German princes were ready to embrace a local movement that, while begun as a debate on Church practices and beliefs, encompassed elements of political reform.

The start of the Protestant Reformation is usually dated to October 1517 when the Augustinian monk, Martin Luther, published his Ninety-Five Theses, a series of statements meant for debate and prompted by the sale of indulgences. Luther, a professor of Scripture at Wittenberg University, had become increasingly uneasy with the wholesaling of indulgences, notably by the Dominican Johaan Tetzel. Unlike past attempts at church reform under Jan Huss and John Wycliffe, Luther’s Reformation established a permanent movement, splitting Christendom in half, and was supported by secular authority.

Of Politics and Piety

North German nobility in the early Sixteen Century were beginning to explore greater means of territorial autonomy both from Church and Emperor. Luther’s hearing at the 1521 Diet of Worms coincided with a more general meeting attended by various ambassadors addressing taxation issues. Luther’s own patron, Saxony’s Frederick the Wise, protected him as public opinion swelled in support of Luther’s refusal to recant. Excommunicated in early 1521, Luther had already written several documents further identifying crucial issues of Reform, including The Babylonian Captivity of the Church, Christian Liberty, and An Address to the Christian Nobility of the German Nation Concerning the Reform of Christendom.

Although Luther’s message of reform was theological (his first Theses point had stated, “when Christ our Lord says ‘repent’, He means that the entire life of believers should be one of repentance.”), many saw the growing movement in secular terms and sought to incorporate everyday grievances. The 1524 Peasant Revolt was caused, at least in part, by a misunderstanding of Luther’s message. Luther rejected the goals of the revolt and supported the nobility. In his Commentary on Romans, Luther writes that, “The Apostle therefore commands that Christians should honor the power of governments and not use their liberty of grace as a cloak for their maliciousness.” (Chapter 13) Luther rendered unto Caesar those things that were Caesar’s and rendered unto God those things that were His, although he viewed God’s omnipotence as a totality that included human government.

An Enduring Movement

By the time Luther died in 1546, the Council of Trent had begun the task of reclaiming lapsed Catholicism but the Reformation was solidly entrenched. Leaders after Luther such as John Calvin would further the movement and in England an unhappily married Tudor king would divorce Catholicism from his realm purely for personal, political reasons. Far from promoting authentic Christianity, the Reformation would spawn bloody wars of religion, notably in France, and culminate in the hellish Thirty Years’ War. From those turmoils new Christian groups would emerge, espousing many of the reforms Luther had advocated, chief among which may have been access to a vernacular Bible. Reformation beliefs may have enabled the evolution of secular considerations of governmental reform such as Resistance Theory that ultimately contributed to early notions of constitutionalism.

One long term legacy of 1517 was the freedom to think and to discourse, whether on religious or secular themes. Carlo Ginzburg’s unfortunate miller never had this opportunity (The Cheese and the Worms: The Cosmos of a Sixteenth Century Miller). In this, Luther freed people from rigidly strident Christianity and began a process that would eventually separate church and state. The Reformation as an enduring movement proved beneficial to both.

The copyright of the article The Endurance of Luther's 1517 Reformation in German History is owned by Michael Streich. Permission to republish The Endurance of Luther's 1517 Reformation in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.

Martin Luther's Peasant Background Examined

Archaeological and Literary Evidence Suggests a Well-to-do Family

Dec 18, 2008

Recent excavations in Mansfeld and Wittenberg confirm the literary sources that point to a social status above the norms of general peasant life in 16th Century Germany.

New evidence in the life of Reformer Martin Luther suggests that his upbringing did not reflect the lifestyle of typical peasantry. Luther scholar Roland Bainton’s assessment that “Luther was not brought up in grinding poverty,” [1] is corroborated by artifacts currently displayed in Halle at the State Museum of Prehistory. According to the Atlantic Times, the evidence demonstrates that Luther’s family “led an extravagant lifestyle…” [2] Although studies of Luther’s early life confirm that his father, Hans, was a man of means, the new discoveries give a more detailed picture of the family’s prosperity.

Literary Evidence of the Luther Family Lifestyle

Luther’s family had settled in Mansfeld the year after he was born in Eisleben. Bainton states that Luther’s mother came from a “well established burgher family,” [3] and that her social status was higher than that of her husband. Some scholars speculate that it was financial help from her family that enabled Hans to lease a copper mine in partnership with a friend.

This enterprise allowed Hans to eventually own shares in eight copper and silver mines and three foundries. Although by no means rich, the income derived from these enterprises permitted him to afford a university education for his son Martin. According to Luther, recollecting in later years, his father paid “bitter sweat and toil.”

When Martin obtained the Master of Arts degree, his father presented him with a copy of the Corpus Juris. Such books were not inexpensive. Later, on the occasion of Luther’s first Mass, Hans presented the Augustinian Order with a gift of twenty florins. The Italian florin, in use throughout Europe at the time, was a gold coin containing 3.5 grams of gold. Such examples indicate that Luther’s family had risen from the days when, as Luther later recalled, his mother carried all her firewood home on her back.

Evidence from the Artifacts

According to the Atlantic Times, in Mansfeld, the Luther family owned, “not only a house but three interconnected buildings as well.” Behind the structures, archaeologists found a garbage dump dated to the time the family lived there. According to findings, numerous articles were quickly buried here. The scientists speculate that this may have been done to avoid contamination after two of Luther’s brothers died in 1505.

Archaeologists found “300 silver coins, pieces of jewelry, cookware, and children’s toys.” Additionally, the dump contained the bones of pigs and poultry. This would indicate that the Luther family ate substantially better than most families, particularly since meat was seldom found in a peasant diet.

The article concludes with a brief list of artifacts found from Luther’s own Wittenberg house, dumped after his death. These include “exotic dishes from Venice” as well as dinnerware and other personal objects. While these findings do not impact Luther’s early life, they may shed light on Luther’s taste’s which would have been formed as a young adult.

Notes and Sources:

[1] Roland H. Bainton, Here I Stand: A Life of Martin Luther (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1950) p. 24.

[2] “Martin Luther Revisited: An exhibition shows that the reformer was not from a poor background,” Atlantic Times, Vol. 5, No. 12, December 2008, p.20.

[3] Bainton, p. 24.