The Marian relationship through the Little Office

The deeply personal relationship with Mary that emerged in the middle ages in the Western church is striking. Not imposed from above, Marian devotion of this kind seems to have been a result of the spiritual yearnings of the general laity and clergy. The immediacy, and even physicality, of the Virgin’s intercessory activity that emerges through the ‘exempla’ of Peter Damien’s letters surprised me. For most people this relationship would have manifested itself through the Little Office of the Virgin Mary. This would have been the daily point of contact, the plane on which the relationship took place.

The personal care and attention the Virgin bestows on those who are devoted to her is emphasized in Damian’s stories. The story of the Burgundian who dies after going on pilgrimage to the church at Podio, which was dedicated to the Virgin, illustrates this. Damian vividly describes the ‘black swarms of demons’ and even seems to suggest they have a good case for his soul. Yet due the fact he ‘ended his days in such a holy manner’ and ‘gave assistance to his (the Lord’s) Holy Mother’, he is allowed another chance at salvation. The dynamic of the relationship is important. Because ‘the man died on a pilgrimage in my service’, he is saved. Those who become servants of Mary gain her intercession. A relationship of service is, by its nature, a very personal and singular arrangement. It requires a consciously individual commitment to serve the Virgin. Damian’s stories suggest the value of this commitment, as Mary acts on behalf of her ‘servants’ regardless of how deserving they are of it. He describes the cleric who ‘had no tact for religious life, no quality that reflected the gravity and decorum pertaining to canonical discipline.’ Yet still, due to his daily devotion, the Virgin visits the ‘delinquent bishop’ who removed the inept cleric’s stipend and strikes him with a rod that seems to allude to the rod of justice. The bishop’s decision seems just, yet the comparative value Damian’s stories place on devotion to Mary emphasizes how powerful this relationship can be, bringing apparently disproportionate good to her ‘servants’.

The help Mary gives in the letters can either be aggressive and forceful or more maternal and caring but is always immediate and direct. When recounting the story of the dying cleric of the diocese of Nevers in Letter 166 who was revived by the virgin’s ‘milk from her sacred breast’, Damian is keen to stress the ‘vestige of milk’ that could be seen on the cleric’s lips when he is revived and praising her. The physical evidence of her intercession seems important. Mary’s aid extends directly from the divine realm into the physical. She is a very immediate presence. This may explain why Damian wants to constantly establish the personal link through which he came by these stories. In name checking his sources, ‘my sister’s boy, Damianus,’ ‘I learnt from my brother Damian…’, he attempts to ground the Virgin’s actions in the real world. Similarly, in letter 17, he attempts to overlay the patterns of nature over the liturgical format, ‘because by active work throughout the four seasons of the year we tire our bodies, composed also of four elements, we therefore sing four psalms in celebrating the morning office.’ He does this to persuade the laymen he is writing to that The Little Office is a natural and true thing to do, and through it the Virgin’s aid can help you in the physical world of nature that surrounds us.

As we said in class, the antiphons that frame each psalm work to insert Mary into the divine message that underlies each psalm. Not only, as Wieck argues, does it add a ‘musical motif’ that hangs over the recitation of each psalm and integrates the Virgin, it also mirrors Mary’s divine role as the bearer of God. Her antiphons surround the Psalms, the word of God, just as the temple surrounded the Ark and her womb surrounded Christ. The way the Psalms and Antiphons interplay give a richness of symbolic and divine meaning to the Little Office but also articulates the relationship of the Virgin to God and therefore the believer’s relationship to God through the Virgin. Mary sits at the juncture between God and man and, as Baltzer argues, represents the most direct route to freedom. This is the liturgical representation of all of Peter Damian’s stories. Just as Mary was the one who delivered Christ, our salvation, into the earth, so can your service on earth earn you your salvation, through Mary.

The way the Little Office developed was perhaps the inevitable result of the nature of this personal relationship based upon servility. Most obviously we see this in the way large psalters designed for group worship were increasingly replaced by small, decorative books of hours designed for personal use. Wieck shows how these books were often made for specific individuals, with their faces incorporated into the illustrations. Claude Goiffier, who was First Gentleman of the Privy Chamber in Henri II’s reign in France, incorporates his coat of arms (page 61). Wieck calls this self-aggrandizement but it also shows how people were defining their identities though this relationship to the Virgin. Marian devotion was also taking the place of personal patron saints. Reading and meditating on the Little Office in private was by itself an individualizing process. As literacy increased people were taking control of the way they worshiped Mary. The desire for salvation is of course an intensely personal thing. If Marian devotion was seen as the best means to gaining salvation, it is understandable that the development of the Little Office of the Virgin reflected this.

W.R.

Devotion and the Book of Hours

One of the things to keep in mind with the Office of the Virgin Mary is its deep personal significance to the medieval devotee. Its ubiquity in everyday life meant that, as Roger Wieck puts it in Painted Prayers, “repeated on a daily basis from childhood to old age, the Hours of the Virgin became a familiar, steadfast friend.” Unlike the Mass, which, for the most part, involves little audience input, the Little Office, with its great variety of antiphons, versicles, and responses, was largely participatory. Nobody at the Office was a passive spectator; everyone, including the lay person, was expected to witness, to partake. As we discussed in class, participation in the Office was associated with a vow of service to the Virgin, and service to Mary demands a great deal. Recall the story of Peter Damian’s brother Marinus, in letter 106, who gained a visit from the Virgin herself on his deathbed by virtue of his entering Mary’s service through a combination of flogging, submission, and alms-giving. While reciting the Little Office, the participant might have been meant to recall the example of Marinus (or someone like him), keeping in mind the extreme humility with which the prayer is said. The expectation that one ought to prostrate themselves, body and soul, to the Mother of God likely enforced this sense of solitary devotion. As Rebecca Baltzer explains in “The Little Office of the Virgin”, the exceptionally personal nature of Marian devotion explains why the Book of Hours, a text whose body contained the Little Office, became such a prevalent artifact of the Middle Ages: no other rite required such a level of private devotion as to encourage possession of the physical text.

Though the focus of the class is the question of why the Office was performed, I’m left with this question of the physicality of the event, specifically how these Books of Hours were used. The great mystery here is what role the actual book played in the liturgy, and how people interacted with it. There is no way to account for individual preference or, as far as I know, to get a snapshot of the habits of the devout participating in the Office. Would the participant page through the book over the course of the prayer, reading along? Would they look at the ornate pictures that introduce each liturgical hour, focusing on them as a contemplative aid? Part of my question has to do with the observation that each Hour has a traditional association with a certain event from the Life of the Virgin. Per Wieck, Matins is usually associated with the Annunciation, Lauds with the Visitation, etc. This means that within the various scenes that make up the cycle, there are eight or so that are chosen to illustrate the Book of Hours, with some noted exceptions. Why these eight and not others? Why not depict the Crucifixion, the Pentecost, or the Assumption? I see these pictures, with so much care and labor put into them, as playing a significant role in devotional practice; their prominence within the book, I think, is not just a display of artistry or ostentatiousness, but something more significant.

In Peter Damian’s letter 17, the reader is given a list of historical and spiritual justifications (with the benefit of a thousand years of hindsight, we look at them as mnemonic devices) explaining the particular structure of the Divine Office: how many psalms are sung at what time, for what purpose, etc. Peter also pays special attention to how the Office should be experienced, what state of mind is particular for what psalm. I wonder if there is a similar justification behind the way the Book of Hours is decorated, whether the lavish scenes are meant to parallel or embellish the text of the Little Office.

The connection between Matins and the Annunciation seems straightforward enough. Peter’s letter suggests that during the Divine Office (and by extension the Little Office) at Matins, one should “expect Christ, the sun of justice, to dawn in our hearts.” Matins, then, is an anticipatory Hour. The corresponding Biblical episode has Mary herself gaining knowledge of Christ and anticipating His arrival. Moreover, at Advent, the Little Office’s prescribed three lessons collectively make up Luke 1:26-38, describing the Annunciation. Here the purpose of the Little Office, as with the Divine Office, is to await the arrival of Christ. As for Lauds, the accompanying scene is the Visitation. Of the psalms and canticles sung at this Hour, I find Psalms 92, 99, the Canticle of Three Children, and Psalm 98 all referring to the motif of the natural world rejoicing in God; in other words, the general theme is that of Creation gathering in order to laud the Creator (pun intended). Remembering that the antiphons to the psalms are addressed to Mary, we become conscious that the psalms and canticles are intended to be read as prefiguring Christ. Then the experience of prayer at Lauds ought to be of us (as creatures) leaping with joy in the presence of Christ, as did the unborn John during the Visitation (Luke 1:41), as a way of attaining God’s grace. Prime is joined with the Nativity, the arrival of Jesus into the world. What better way to represent this Hour, which is marked by songs of salvation? The three psalms, 53, 84, 116, are characterized by verses like “For behold, God is my helper and the Lord is the protector of my soul” (Ps. 53:4), “Show us, O Lord, Your mercy and grant us Your salvation” (Ps. 84:7), “His mercy is confirmed upon us” (Ps. 116:2). In general, I see the unifying aspects of the psalms and canticles sung at each Hour as matching the tone of the scenes with which they are associated. In this way, a reader contemplating the scenes is able to enter the right frame of mind when approaching the liturgy.

What I have here is only a relatively shallow analysis of the Office; closer reading might uncover more connections. While I found this exercise interesting, I couldn’t find any textual reason for the pictorial associations in the other Hours, Terce (Annunciation to the Shepherds), Sext (Adoration of the Magi), None (Presentation in the Temple, or Circumcision of Christ), Vespers (Flight into Egypt), and Compline (Coronation of the Virgin, or Death of the Virgin, but not the Assumption). Needless to say, I have no idea whether these associations resonated in the mind of the medieval Catholic, or if they’re products of my after-the-fact reasoning. Nevertheless, I believe, owing to the sheer prominence of these images within the Book of Hours, that such associations exist and can be extended to all the Hours. It would take someone who has bitten off more of the text, and chewed on it longer than I have, to find a fuller connection here.

F.G.

Mother Mary, Temple of God, Most Accessible Mother

Throughout Christian time, we see that the church tends to have a fascination with the Virgin Mary. As we have discussed in class, her characteristics, history and relevance sat, and still do sit, in much controversy. At first, her characteristics came under debate, with James, Jacobus, and the Pseudo Gospel of Matthew all defining her purity and ancestry from two noble lines in order to establish her worthiness to carry God. Then we read Irenaeus, Tortullian, Epiphanius and Ephrem who concern themselves with the great paradox of creator of all  “the heavens could not contain” inside the womb of one woman, who in a sense, created Him on earth. These men depict Mary as the garden for the growing of God and as the obedient foil of Eve that gave birth to the cure for original sin. Later on we saw Proclus, Cyril, and Nestorius vie for the ability to define Mary’s importance through Theotokos, utilizing Biblical and metaphorical references to “loom[s]”, “garden[s]”, vessel[s]”, “workshop[s]”, and “temple[s]”. Here then, these definitions of her allow us to view God through her. She is part creator, part holding vessel for the Lord, which allows the Christian to see and flesh out the Lord’s characteristics through her. 

And now, we have reached the Office of the Virgin Mary, the daily set of devotions to the Virgin and to the Lord adopted from Marian Festivals and popularized in medieval Christianity through the Book of Hours. So I suppose the next question to ask, based on my line of introduction, would be how the Virgin Mary is seen through the Office, as interpreted by the church. But here, we have reached a conundrum. 

It is at this point that we see this discussion of the Virgin and her importance to the church turn away from mostly higher clergymen’s (bishops, important priests, etc) interpretations and move towards the laypeople and the common monk. No longer is she merely being celebrated on Marian feast days with the help of priests to emphasize her importance or solely being given meaning through who the church says she is. This Office, as a component in the Book of Hours, one of the most well-read texts in common medieval Christianity, meant that the laypeople now had a chance to interpret and understand Mary on their own terms instead of merely taking in the priests' word on who Mary is and her importance to God and the church. 

This then raises many questions, including: why Mary? Why this Office? Why would this Office be created if the church was already interpreting Mary the way they would want her to be seen? 

The short answer is that no one really knows. But based off of our most recent set of texts, we can hazard some educated guesses. 

Starting with the Office itself, we see that the passages chosen to be in the Office are those that reference Mary as an honored resting place in which God is housed, more specifically as a temple or a holy city. In the Matins hymn, we see “[i]n you the Spirit was enshrined,” and in Psalm 45 “…the most High has sanctified His own tabernacle / God is in the midst thereof, it shall not be moved…” as references to Mary as a holy resting place or temple. The entirety of Psalm 86 makes Mary to be a holy living city or temple. These must have been chosen as a reason, for there are also plenty of Scripture passages that reference Mary as a garden or as a growing place, instead of as a resting place for God (e.g. Song of Songs 4:11-12; Ecclesiasticus 24: 16-32; Isaiah 11:1-3), as well as many hymns that reference her as such. Although other references are made, Mary is mostly depicted as the “tabernacle”, “couch”, “womb” and other resting, enclosing images. Therefore, this image of Mary being representative of the temple appears specifically chosen for this Office.

But what sort of temple? Is she a temple in the sense of being a place where God can be found? To explore this, we must also examine what other themes can be found in the text. Because most of these passages are Psalms, much of these words are praises to God. But the psalms chosen also show the need to fear, respect, and follow God’s word. Psalm 18 reads, “For your servant keeps them, and in keeping them there is a great reward. Who can understand sins? From my secret ones cleanse me, O Lord: and from those of others spare Your servant.” Psalm 23 continues this theme with, “The innocent in hands, and clean in heart, who has not taken his soul in vain, nor sworn deceitfully to his neighbor. He shall receive a blessing from the Lord, and mercy from God his Savior.” And Psalm 96 says “Light is risen to the just, and joy to the right of heart. Rejoice, you just ones, in the Lord, and give praise to the remembrance of His holiness.” Obedience and praise to the Lord, then, gives rise to great joy and the saving of the “servant”. 

To combine these two ideas, Mary as a temple, and obedience to the Lord, it behooves us to look at a few things. First, the previous translations of Mary from the church. As aforementioned, Mary has already been show to represent a lens through which we can understand God and His characteristics, namely his omnipotence and omnipresence. Also, the structure of the Office itself, namely the antiphons which mostly mention Mary, as Weick explains on, “fram[e]” the Psalms and “expand[s]…the theme of the Psalm.” So Mary is framing God literally in the Office’s structure. This physical metaphor, combined with her temple imagery, creates the image of Mary as the temple in which God is housed. In physical life then, and as Baltzer explains, this imagery of the Office compares to that of the church. Ergo, “Mary was…regarded as a type of the Church” because she, like the church, is a physical place in which God can be found, housed, and connected to. 

We could stop here then and say that the whole purpose of the Office was a reminder that the Church was the most important hope for connecting to God and that by reading the Office, one was essentially being obedient as a servant and in a sense, “attending church” to receive salvation. 

That is an aspect of it- that Mary is a representation of the church and thusly a means of salvation. But once we tie in past images- her ability as a lens to see God and her great paradox- I think more can be revealed. By emphasizing Psalms, which reveal the greatness of God, and framing that greatness specifically with Mary, the temple and Mother of God, and by setting the Office in its daily hour pattern, not only does the Office reveal God’s power and Christ’s coming every day, but also sets the tone that Mary is the one through which this was possible and through which Christ and God can be made more accessible. In the end, the Office is not merely a way to gain salvation, but also a way in which God’s might can be realized from a human standpoint and felt to be more accessible to the common man, because Mother Mary, strictly because of her motherhood and servanthood, is one of the most human of the most idolized characters depicted in the Bible. 

-H.G. 

A Shift in the Role of Marian Devotion

In the letters of Peter Damian and more generally in the proliferation of the Little Office among the laity, I sense a new theme of Mary – Mary as a subject worthy of prominence in every-day life. This is in contract to the theme of Mary described by earlier writers – Mary as a primarily theological subject who aids in our understanding of Jesus and scripture generally.

Earlier writers’ concern with Mary was primarily theological and intellectual. Their goal was to expose who Mary is, why she matters, and how their understanding of Mary advances their understanding of Christ and Christianity. Many early writers were deeply concerned with Mary as where Jesus comes from. Because of the theological understanding which is core to Christianity that Jesus had to be fully human, he had to be born of human. But Mary had to be a special human to be worthy of giving birth to the savior. Early writers’ understanding of this was reflected in their writing, which sought to explain Mary as such a special human. For example, the author of the Protoevangelium of James was concerned with the Mary’s divine lineage and her family’s connection with the temple. He and the author of Pseudo-Matthew also attempted to fill in details about Mary’s own birth for this purpose.

On the other hand, exposition on Mary as where Jesus comes from also played an important role in fleshing out an understanding of Jesus as divine. Mary’s most important title in the early Church was Theotokos, or birth-giver of God. This title troubled certain early writers, such as Nestorius, who insisted that the creator could not be born of creation. Nestorius’s opposition embraced the paradox and used other paradoxical imagery to expound on Mary as Theotokos. These arguments about Mary as Theotokos were also Christological arguments about Jesus’s nature.

Early authors were also interested as Mary as a key to understanding scripture. For example, the author of Pseudo-Matthew wrote about Mary as a fulfillment of prophesy. Irenaeus also wrote about Mary as a fulfillment of prophesy, and used this understanding to argue for a Christian reading of scripture over the Jewish reading of scripture and also to argue against certain heresies. Irenaeus and Tertullian drew parallels between Mary and Eve in order to expound upon Mary’s role in salvation history. Lastly, Andrew of Crete and Germanos of Constantinople viewed Mary as the lens through which to read scripture. To them, understanding Mary and reading scripture in light of Mary would lead to a deeper understanding of scripture and God.

These views of Mary presented by early writers were theological and intellectual. They each represent a theoretical understanding of Mary tied to other theoretical interests. These views of Mary would be useful only for somebody deeply contemplating the mysteries of the Jesus’s nature, the trinity, scripture and its fulfillment, etc. In other words, these writings on Mary would be less useful to laity seeking only to live in a Christian matter. For example, it is not absolutely necessary to understand the theological implications of Mary as Theotokos to live a good life worthy of God’s mercy.

However Peter Damian sought to bring Mary to the masses and justified his goal by pointing to very tangible and practical benefits of Marian devotion. He and others like him were successful; as we learned in class, every literate woman, man, and child was familiar with the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Thus, Mary was no longer discussed as only useful for contemplative discernment of the Church’s mysteries. Laity began to see Mary as someone who grants health, well-being, protection, and access to God’s mercy.

Peter Damian recommended that everybody – laity and religious alike – should take up praying the Divine Office. He also recommended that “he whose spirit burns a little more fervently with the love of God will also go so far as to find time daily to attend the hours of the Blessed Mother of God.” (Letter 17, p. 157). He argued for this recommendation by telling stories of people who were deeply devoted to Mary, either by reciting her office, simply praying to her, or even just praying at a church dedicated to her. These people were granted all sorts of tangible benefits.

For example, one story tells of a man who made a pilgrimage to pray at a church dedicated to Mary. On his journey home, he fell ill and died. As it happens, this man did not live the most holy life, and the devil came to redeem the man as his own. However, Mary came to the rescue, and after a discussion with the devil, she commanded the man to return to his body and confess his grave sin. The man did so, died, and went to heaven. This is an important story because it illustrates that Mary is no longer just the way to God intellectually and theologically. Mary is now the way to the actual presence of God. Just as she leads people to a deeper understanding of God, she also literally leads people to God.

In another story, a cleric who recited the Little Office daily became sick. Mary then appeared to him and provided her breast milk for his nourishment. This story again illustrates the very practical benefits of devotion to Mary. In addition to providing spiritual nourishment like the early writers explained, Damian argues that she can provide physical or practical nourishment.

This shift of focus is exemplified in two related but contrasting metaphors used to describe Mary.  Each metaphor describes Mary as a mirror, that is, a way to God. However the metaphors differ in what purpose Mary as a “mirror” serves. In the first metaphor, Andrew of Crete describes Mary as “the intellectual mirror of discerning foreknowledge, through which the renowned interpreters of the Spirit mystically contemplated the infinitely powerful condescension of God on our behalf.” (Wider Than Heaven, p. 207). This demonstrates the view of Mary as a provider of intellectual benefit. She helped the “renowned interpreters” – a phrase most certainly not intended to denote the Everyman – understand the mystery of the incarnation. In contrast, Peter Damian tells a story in which a man prays to Mary and addresses her as the “mirror of virginal chastity and example of every virtue.” (Letter 106, p. 183). This image shows that Mary is for everybody. Understanding her, being devoted to her, and following her example helps people live in virtue. Thus, Marian devotion touches on every-day life. People don’t just need Mary to know how to understand the Church’s mysteries; people need Mary to know how to live.

-N.C.Y.

Songs of Praise and Petition: A Closer Look at Lauds

“Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptized” (Acts 9:18 NIV). As the Lord opened Saul’s eyes through the hand of Ananias, I feel that Mary has opened my mind to an aspect of faith that I never considered seriously before: the recitation of the Office, the cycling of the Hours, the avenue by which millions of Catholic adherents offer their service to God the Father and the Mother of Christ. To be honest, one of the greatest challenges with this week’s discussion was understanding what the purpose of the Little Office of the Virgin was – Peter Damian’s Letters suggest it is an act of service and a way of refreshing and guarding one’s soul; but how can merely reciting Scripture be of any use to the Almighty? Or Mary, for that matter?

The thick sheaf of the collected Hours, plus its endless variations through different feast days, seemed archaic and impenetrable. But ultimately, it is the Psalms themselves and how they are presented that I think may hold some clue to unraveling the meaning of the Office. In class, we rushed quite quickly through the Psalms of the Matins; here, I will attempt to examine the Psalms and canticles of Lauds and the Little Hours in closer detail. I apologize in advance, but I will be skipping from part to part, commenting on details I find particularly interesting. All text comes from the Little Office version posted on the course website.

Psalm 92: Here I find the references to the Lord “clothed with Beauty…with strength…He has established the world which shall not be moved” to resonate with past imagery of Mary as the “wrapping” of God, the immovable world of His creation. The “throne prepared from of old” seems to refer to Isaiah’s prophecy that “the virgin will conceive” as a sign from God.

Peter Damian considers Lauds to be the Hour in which “the sun of justice dawns in our hearts…the whole Church celebrates with joy as she goes to meet her approaching bridegroom” (Letter 17, 147). This seems to be supported by Psalm 92, which emphasizes the immutable connection between God and the City of God. As a side note, note how Peter Damian personifies the Church as “she?” Recall Baltzer’s argument of Mary as a type of Church, one that provides the bridge between the mortal and heavenly realms? Could it be that such a belief was held by Peter D? He later describes the Church as “speeding toward the heavenly kingdom…pursuing her journey by night and by day, joined now in the praise of God…Later, she will see him face to face…” (154). I may be jumping the gun, but this line actually seems to dispel the idea that Peter equated Mary with the Church in the manner put forth by Baltzer – if Mary is the Mother of Christ, why should she be trying to reach Him in heaven? Is she not already there? Perhaps this characterization is representative of how Mary intercedes on our behalf and carries us to salvation?

The Little Chapter (Canticle of Canticles): This canticle is incredible! It contains so much of the imagery and symbolism we have discussed in the past, which I will attempt to capture here –

“O Queen of all the virgin choir, enthroned above the starry sky” – Perhaps a reference to Mary as the Queen of Heaven in Barker’s argument, in which she sits alongside Yahweh and the “starry host” associated with the ancient pantheon.

“What man had lost in hapless Eve Your sacred womb to man restores; You to the wretched here beneath Hast opened Heaven’s eternal doors.” – Again we see the completion of the cycle begun with Eve’s Sin, ending with Mary’s Redemption. Mary is the great Intercessor, the one who guides sinners to Heaven and pleas for mercy from her Son’s divine judgment of those who honor her.

“Hail, O refulgent Hall of light, Hail, Gate august of Heaven’s high King” – Mary is frequently compared to marvelous structures or impenetrable fortifications (see the Akathistos Hymn for a really long list of them), which is also seen in her title as the “City of God,” perhaps indicating how she provides refuge for her faithful, as well as how she acts as a temple and container for the Creator (“Hall of light”).

The Little Chapter (Isaiah 2:1-2): “There shall come forth a rod out of the root of Jesse, and a flower shall rise up out of his root, and the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him.” This passage from Isaiah seems to refer to Mary, as the Antiphon assures her that “The Holy Spirit shall come upon you, Mary; fear not.” However, in Numbers 17:8 we see Moses’ witnessing of “Aaron’s staff, which represented the tribe of Levi, had not only sprouted but had budded, blossomed, and produced almonds.” Thus through the same sign of the budding staff did God bestow authority upon Aaron as the high priest of Israel, giving him the honor of serving His tabernacle. In class, we also discussed the close connection between Miriam and Mary, so I don’t think this reference is a coincidence – as Aaron received priestly authority from God, Mary receives the redemption of humankind – but does that make her the highest servant, or the tabernacle through which the rest of us can serve the Lord?

I will not go too in-depth in the Little Hours, but note that many of the Psalms, specifically 119, 120, 121 all seem to be appeals to God for help, e.g. “In my trouble I cried to the Lord and he heard me. O Lord, deliver my soul from wicked lips, and a deceitful tongue.” (Psalm 119). This is in contrast to the Psalms in Lauds, which were much more joyful and full of praise for God. It aligns quite closely, actually, with Peter Damian’s characterization of the nighttime Hours as defensive measures for the soul. His descriptions of the Hours could thus be more than just a mnemonic device for laymen, but actually summarize the purpose of each Hour.

All that, and we’ve only just reached Vespers? Let me pause here and reflect on what we have seen. Numerous references to Blessed Mary in her vast characterizations, praises and prayers to God for aid, and underneath it all, a sense that the Little Office is a lifestyle, a method of honoring the Theotokos and the Savior while simultaneously offering prayers and seeking blessings.

So how does this all fit in with my initial tension? It’s simple: what I considered once so foreign turns out to be quite similar to the songs of praise in contemporary Protestant churches. Every service opens with song, and the congregation continues to sing during Offering, and after the sermon. Praise is pleasing in its familiarity, but more importantly, represents the honoring of God and the bolstering of one’s own relationship with Him. We know God is great, so why sing it again and again? For the same reason that a king’s callers will announce his coming – we are His servants, incapable of matching His perfect deeds, and thus offer the only thing we have of value: praise.

Name above all names

You’re worthy of all praise

And my heart will sing

How great
How great is our God

-SL

A Closer Look at "The Little Office of the Virgin and Mary's Role at Paris"

As we discussed in class, there's not much scholarship on the "why" of the Office of the Virgin. Though its popularity is well established, and Books of Hours, are well documented as an art historical and cultural phenomenon, the rise of the Office and the reasons why it were performed seem to be considered secondary at best. Prof. Fulton Brown mentioned briefly in class that Rebecca Baltzer's article, "The Little Office of the Virgin and Mary's Role at Paris" take a rare stab at generating an argument for the purpose of the Office. Baltzer provides an analysis of the psalms and prayers selected for the Little Office of the Virgin and compares what we have record of at Paris with other Office texts from contemporary churches and monasteries. The question (and I'm paraphrasing), "Are you convinced Baltzer was right?" was posed to the class, and I'd like to take a closer look at Baltzer's argument in light of the temple imagery in the psalms which we've discussed.

Baltzer begins her article by reviewing the evolving form of the Little Office in the 13^th century, comparing the Office as it appears in different texts. This provides us with a concept of the Office as a whole, as well as its local particularities, thus providing us an immediate context for the liturgy. It briefly touches on from where these psalms and antiphons are drawn. The article states: "The psalms used in the Little Office of the Virgin are those which are 'ordinary' for Marian feasts, a natural choice for the compilers of the Little Office." (Baltzer 468) Both local Benedictine liturgies and the Feast of the Assumption are mentioned as sources for the Little Office. The article then follows the discrepancies between the texts (468-470) and draws conclusions from these differences. Again, these comparisons provide us with a context for individual variations in the reception and purpose for the books under review, though this context is primarily useful when considering the individual books, rather than the origins and purpose of the Little Office as a whole.

Baltzer does make a claim at the purpose of the Office as it was performed at Notre-Dame de Paris: "In the shape of their liturgy and in the magnificent edifice newly built to house it, the clergy of Notre-Dame of Paris asserted a special role – one closely tied to the Virgin – for their church in the world. At the time of Notre-Dame's construction, the paramount and overriding message that the clerical hierarchy wished to communicate was the idea that the Virgin was the Mother of God, and through her, in this cathedral church built in her honor, salvation could best be found" (Baltzer, 470). To sum up Baltzer's argument then, the Little Office of the Virgin, largely built from other Marian Feast Day Liturgies, was said daily at Notre-Dame because it was a reminder of Mary's role in redemption, that Mary was a type of the Church, and that Notre Dame itself was a physical representation of both of these ideas. Promoting the Virgin was promoting the cathedral, too.

I do find Baltzer's argument convincing for the particular situation at Notre Dame in the 13^th century. Even if we disregard the "Mary as type of the Church" idea as a later invention, that the Little Office of the Virgin would be said so frequently at a wealthy and powerful church dedicated to her is no surprise, and Baltzer's argument that the Office served to both advertise and bolster the intertwining of the role of cathedral (and Church) and Mary as sites of God's presence to be well worth considering. However, by focusing so much on the particulars, it does fail to consider the broad popularity that the Office already had (I think the number of texts and their variations make a strong argument for this!), and thus why it was likely chosen to be performed at the cathedral, and why the Little Office was composed the way it was. It is in these two points that the arguments based on Barker's temple imagery and theology discussed in class can provide possible answers.

A number of the psalms used in the Little Office are hymns to be sung at the enthronement of the king in the temple at Jerusalem. As we saw in class, these psalms draw directly on the figures of the temple and Davidic kingship and have a long history as sources of vocabulary for Marian devotion and Christ's kingship. Many of the others belong to the "Gradual Psalms," or Songs of the Ascent. These songs of thanksgiving or the need for deliverance were likely sung by pilgrims on their way to the temple. Not only do they function as general prayers, but they're couched in temple imagery. As we've discussed, the imagery in all of these psalms was tied very closely to Mary by the 8^th century, as see in the homilies of Andrew of Crete and Germanos of Constantinople, so their use in the Liturgy for the Feast of the Assumption and the Little Office seems a natural extension of that tradition. It is also worth noting that many of the psalms that don't fall into these categories are sung at Matins, Lauds, or Compline, where the text tends to emphasize pleas for forgiveness or thanksgiving for the day to begin or just completed.

That this tradition greatly predated the construction of Notre-Dame, and that supplication to the Virgin was understood to provide temporal and spiritual benefits to the supplicant (or servant), as seen in the exempla provided by Peter Damian and later in the Golden Legend, goes a long way to explain the popularity of the Little Office outside of the obvious Marian centers and why the Office was adopted at those centers. When this reading is paired with Baltzer's argument for the centrality of the Office at Notre-Dame, we can begin to see the outline of a culture of devotion building around Marian and temple imagery, and how that imagery was propagated by those heavily invested in the promotion of the cult.

-ZSR

Offices and Benefits of the Virgin

Offices or honores throughout history were gifted to individuals or even groups to function as a way of gratefulness. Gratefulness for loyalty or as a way of positively remarking on the work and accomplishment of that person was the reason for these gifts. This can be seen in relation to the Office of the Virgin because of all that Mary accomplished in her life and what her life accomplished for all of humanity. She was prophesied to fulfill all of these things within the psalms, prayers of thanksgiving for her dutifulness and faith in God’s work is lauded and most interestingly her role in the afterlife as still working for humanity’s well-being is sung.  Mary is the office given not by the people but by God and mirrored is the focus and faith given to such a ritualized prayer.

Whether praising through Matins Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers, or Compline, the early medieval worshipper would realize the importance of Mary in praising the savior, Jesus. Psalms, canticles and prayers allotted a great amount of attention to her role in scripture but by making it an active act of praise, it created a collective mission for worship within Marian practices which is why Peter Damian wished for it to become a universal commitment through the church. This idea of being active within the church was not the norm in the medieval church, one leader leads mass and the others follow. But the office of the virgin allows for all to lead each other through psalm, through song, through chant and finding the meaning of Mary in the face of Jesus’ life, passion, death, and especially in his promise of salvation. The collective in the early medieval church could now not only respond but call. A modern example of the whole community gaining active participation in the church would be service of Taize. It uses the same structure, though different psalms and songs are used within these services than the Office of Mary, and it has the same repetitive nature that can be memorized and repeated thus creating a sense of movement and a sense of familiarity with the prayers.

But the focus should remain on not only how structurally the Office of the Virgin thrived but how it could be promoted to help defend the idea of the Christian servant. Peter Damian sees miracle stories as evidence of how prayers and services to Mary benefit the whole of society as well as the individual, examples of towns or just one soul becoming a protectorate of the virgin mother run rampant throughout Peter Damian’s letters to lay and cleric alike. The example of Marinus within letter 106 and not only his vision of Mary before death which eased his mind at the coming mortality but was also found with great dismay by those around him was a result of earlier worship and devotion to Mary. He had made himself her servant through pain, actual physical pain, as well as prayers of fidelity and this is rewarded in his end.

Mary herself as a servant to God would be not only slave but queen and mother through this supplication and that is what allows for praise of Mary to be both beneficial and humbling to those who follow the office of the Virgin. As one of the most influential psalms of the Office, Psalm 18 leads this servant rhetoric as it says “For your servant keeps them, and in keeping them there is a great reward”. Disobedience was not only the “sing of the first man” as Peter Damian said in letter 142, but it is the opposite of truly serving God and his most blessed (130, part 8). As the antiphon to psalm 45 suggests, Mary is unmoved by anything other than the righteous, the obedience within her to God and that is how Christians were meant to act and live.

Although there was no coordinated or ordinated version of the Office of the Virgin, there was specific themes which all hours touched upon and helped to guide the Christian throughout the day. Focusing on salvation, Mary as a type of church just as Rebecca Baltzer talks about in The Little Office of the Virgin and Mary’s Role in Paris and Jesus’ humanity allowed for monastics and clerics to focus liturgically on the role of humans in God’s church on earth and how Mary can be a guide to God. Notre Dame was an important Marian cathedral because of what it was meant to represent within the office of Mary. Just as Baltzer inquired on pages 470 – 471 of her document, through honoring her and through commitment to the hours of the Virgin, Notre Dame becomes the threshold to salvation and intercession which is an important part of the theological environment of the medieval church. She, like the church, is the doorway to God and by being this she was able to be temple, mother, and queen to the Christian populace which allowed the Little Office to become part of everyday life if not through the pontiff.

The Mother of God became a symbol of not only purity but of strength in faith and strength as a noble of the everlasting and intercessor to the almighty. She is unlike the fake believer of Peter Damian’s letter 142 on page 133 who “has never penetrated the depths of genuine love” because she is the ultimate mortal example of love, both to the divine and to other humans upon this earth. She, like Solomon and Jacob’s mothers, gave the gift of the crown, of leadership, to her son however this was an eternal throne made up of herself. If ever there was a crown worthy of honors and hours devoted to those honors, it was in the mind of the medieval theologian worthy only of Mary. Only Mary could penetrate the ecclesiastical structure, only she could reasonably frame God because she was the only one who had ever held God within her.

-        A. Graff

A Comparison of Damian's Anecdotal Examples

Much of Thursday’s class discussion centered on Peter Damian’s anecdotal examples of the power of faith. It left me with a two distinct impressions: that Damian almost-always mentions Mary in his examples and that his examples mostly center on people outside the church. To test my theories, I tallied up the examples that do not come directly from scripture and found the following results: Damian mentions Mary in seven out of his fifteen examples and the main character is a member of the clergy in nine out of the fifteen (four involving Mary).

My chart of Damian’s anecdotal rather than scriptural examples:

I found it helpful to examine each of my notions separately and have thus divided my response into three sections: Mary, clergymen and conclusion.

Impression: Damian almost-always mentions Mary in his examples

Fact: Damian mentioned Mary in seven out of his fifteen examples

Due to our classes’ subject matter, it makes sense that I was biased in favor of finding more Mary in the texts than there actually was. However, I believe my bias was reinforced by how well the themes of these stories fit in to what we have already been talking about: the belief in Mary brings forgiveness, salvation or punishment.

In the cases of the cleric from Letter 166, the cleric from Letter 106 and the layman from Letter 106, a person who believes in God and specifically offers prayers to Mary is blessed. If I understood Professor Fulton-Brown in class, she said that offering prayers to Mary was a service to her because to worship Mary is to worship the creator, because she gave birth to him, which is to worship the church, because he gave birth to it. If this is correct then it also makes sense that in the case of the middle-class person from Letter 17, even though the story does not specifically mention Mary but speaks more generally about devotion to God, Damian still brings Mary in at the end. To Damian, it is important to tie praising Mary to devotion to God and the most “fervent” love of all.

Damian also gives examples of times when devotion to the virgin redeemed a sinner. In the stories of the clerk from Letter 17 and the vassal from Letter 106, someone who sinned is able to find forgiveness and salvation through Mary. This reminds me of our modern understanding of the phrase “Hail Mary”—a kind of last-ditch attempt at salvation or success when all is almost lost. Mary, the intercessor, may have mercy for you if you’ve shown her devotion.

Lastly, in the final story from Letter 142, a monastery is punished for ceasing to honor Mary and order is only restored when they resume their hours. The bishop in the cleric story in Letter 106 is also physically punished for dismissing the cleric who prayed to Mary. In keeping with the theme, devotion to Mary is able to bless and forgive and to stop praying to the mother of God has severe consequences. This reinforces the point from class that praying to Mary is a service to her.

Something else I noticed is that Letters 166, 17 and 106 begin with stories referencing the virgin while Letter 142 ends with one. I don’t feel comfortable making concrete extrapolations from this data but to me it implies that Damian thought discussing Mary was very important. After all, she leads three of his letters and in the one admonishing hermits for living impiously, she factors in to his closing zinger.

Impression: Damian’s examples mostly center on people outside the church

Fact: The main character is a clergyman in nine out of the fifteen examples (four involving Mary)

I’m not as off as I appear. The letter that is to religious hermits, Letter 142, speaks only of monks, perhaps to give the listeners more concrete and relatable examples. This letter also involves more stories of bad behavior and punishment than the others, perhaps to scare Damian’s audience. If you discount Letter 142 as an outlier, the ratio of clergy-centered to non-clergy centered anecdotes is 5:6.

That being said, the clergy come up much more often than I originally thought in the stories. I think that one reason they didn’t register as much in my mind is that I somewhat expected their presence. It was layman, middle-class man and vassal who claimed to have brushes with divinity that surprised me more.

Damian may have anticipated my expectation. With the exception of Letter 142, each letter includes a fairly even balance of clergy to citizens. (Note: Letters 166 and 106 also have an even balance of stories that reference Mary.) Given that the ratios are close to even, perhaps Damian was attempting to show that devout worship is as important and accessible for the common man as for the clergy. This is somewhat evident in his declaration in Letter 17 that even if you can’t make it to church, “pay in kind your dues to the Lord with that commodity which is at hand. Thus, if there are psalms to say, say them; if only one” (155). Notably, this is the only letter that is to a non-clergyman. Perhaps in the cases of Letters 106 and 166, he was trying to encourage the clergy to instill these lessons in their flock. Or, if he was feeling sassy, saying if the common man can do it, so can you.

Conclusion

To draw convincing conclusions about Damian’s formulaic and rhetorical strategies would take more data but I found my chart helpful for synthesizing his anecdotal stories and comparing my (erroneous) assumptions to the facts. What I found is that Damian mentions Mary about half the time, always in regard to devotion and the power of prayer, and that in all but one letter, he gives examples from the lives of both clergymen and civilians.

JLK

Our Lady's Hour

The Office of the Virgin holds a place of honor for Mary at all times of the day. But it is Vespers that encapsulates her mystery most profoundly. The standard Divine Office dedicates Vespers to Mary by reciting both the Magnificat and a Marian hymn; the Office of the Virgin in a like manner gives this hour a special significance. As Peter Damian says, “just as the evening of the world was falling... she suddenly cried out in a loud voice filled with praise of God: “My soul magnifies the Lord”... the whole universal Church who is indeed the mother of Christians, who bears the same Light in her soul that Mary once bore in her womb, as the day draws to its close, proclaims God's greatness with proper praise and with thanks for favors received” (Letter 17 no 13). No other hour of the day summarizes Mary's faithfulness and her purpose as this hour.

According to the version of the “Little Office” that the University of Dayton provides us, Vespers begins with Psalm 109. Speaking of the power of the Lord (we interpret this as the power that will be given to Christ), the psalmist depicts a ruler who brings justice to the earth. Interestingly, the Marian antiphon that is attached to this psalm refers to Mary's sweet fragrance that fills the heavenly court of God. In the following psalm (112), the praises to God are set within the idea of Mary's position near God: “His left hand is under my head, and His right hand shall embrace me.” Mary's proximity to the Divine is apparent; wherever God is, Mary is there. This understanding helps us to unpack, yet still not even begin to fully comprehend, the mystery of Mary.

The next two psalms follow the same pattern. All four of the psalms are enveloped by antiphons from the Song of Songs, specially chosen to cause the reader to meditate on the characteristics and actions of Mary. Psalm 121 interestingly details the “house of the Lord,” a heavenly Jerusalem, where later Christians will develop the belief that the faithful will go after death. Even more, the Marian antiphon from the Songs says, “I am black, but beautiful, O daughters of Jerusalem: therefore has the King loved me, and brought me into His chamber. Now is the winter past.” The first part of the antiphonal verse can also be translated as “I am dark, but lovely” and one biblical commentary notes that this refers to the beloved in the Songs having worked in her brother's vineyard and being burnt by the sun; the “city girls” made fun of her because her skin was much darker than theirs. When I thought about this, it caused me to connect the two concepts of the Assumption and Mary's chosenness. She was chosen because she was made different from all other women, hence her “darkness” (although wouldn't it be more natural to think of Mary's skin being much fairer than others? Perhaps I am too influenced by depictions of her in art), and because of her chosenness by God, she was brought up to his heavenly abode through the Assumption.

Psalm 126 discusses the work of God in bringing children to mankind. Offspring have been viewed as blessings from God, like arrows in a quiver. Does this make us think of how Mary bore Jesus, the Son of God? The antiphon, “...arise my beloved, and come. You are made beauteous” from Song of Songs 2:10-11 might cause one to think of Mary as the mystical spouse of God, and how the Holy Spirit worked in this union to bring about the offspring that would be the savior of humankind. The final psalm, with no antiphon, is a praise of God for all that God has done, and how the power and judgment of God had been directed specifically to the people of Israel. Note the connection between the lyrics of Psalm 147 “Who declares His word to Jacob? His justices and His judgments to Israel. He has not done in like manner to every nation, and His judgments He has not made manifest to them” and “As he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his seed forever” of the Magnificat.

Two other events during Vespers cause readers to reflect upon Mary's unique role in salvation history. First is the Marian hymn “Ave Maris Stella” which dates back to the early Middle Ages. The beautiful and descriptive words are as follows, with the Latin on the far left, its direct translation in the middle (Wikipedia cites Liber Hymnarius, Solesmes, 1983 for the translation) and the modern translation from Dayton on the right:

Ave, maris stella,         Hail, star of the sea,                Hail, you Star of the ocean!
Dei mater alma,          Nurturing Mother of God,       Portal of the sky!
atque semper virgo,    And ever Virgin                        Ever Virgin Mother
felix cœli porta.          Happy gate of Heaven.               Of the Lord Most High!

Sumens illud «Ave»        Receiving that "Ave"                  Oh! By Gabriel's Ave,
Gabrielis ore,                 From the mouth of Gabriel,        Utter'd long ago,
funda nos in pace,         Establish us in peace,                 Eva's name reversing,
mutans Evæ nomen.     Transforming the name of "Eva"  Establish peace below

Solve vincla reis,        Loosen the chains of the guilty, Break the captive's fetters;
profer lumen cæcis,    Send forth light to the blind,         Light on blindness pour;
mala nostra pelle,       Our evil do thou dispel,                All our ills expelling
bona cuncta posce.     Entreat (for us) all good things.    Every bliss implore.

Monstra te esse matrem,  Show thyself to be a Mother:  Show yourself a Mother;
sumat per te precem    Through thee may he receive prayer Offer Him our sighs,
qui pro nobis natus      Who, being born for us,                Who for us Incarnate
tulit esse tuus.              Undertook to be thine own.        Did not you despise.

Virgo singularis,        O unique Virgin,                             Virgin of all virgins!
inter omnes mitis,      Meek above all others,                  To your shelter take us:
nos culpis solutos      Make us, set free from (our) sins,    Gentlest of the gentle!
mites fac et castos.        Meek and chaste.                 Chaste and gentle make us.

Vitam præsta puram,      Bestow a pure life,              Still, as on we journey,
iter para tutum,              Prepare a safe way:             Help our weak endeavor,
ut videntes Jesum           That seeing Jesus,                 Till with you and Jesus
semper collætemur.        We may ever rejoice.            We rejoice forever.

Sit laus Deo Patri,        Praise be to God the Father,  Through the highest heaven,
summo Christo decus, To the Most High Christ (be) glory, To the Almighty Three,
Spiritui Sancto             To the Holy Spirit                  Father, Son, and Spirit,
honor, tribus unus.    (Be) honour, to the Three equally. One same glory be.
Amen.                           Amen.                                      Amen.

One could write a whole post on this very hymn. Copying the hymn here serves the purpose of showing how Mary's characteristics shine forth as a means for believers to seek to implore from her help from God. One can see all the titles of Mary in this hymn: Star of the Sea, Mother of God, New Eve (implied), Virgin of all virgins, Gate of Heaven, Loosener of chains (implied) (I have also seen her called Undoer of Knots). And yet, at the end of the hymn, all the glory is given to the Trinity, thus reiterating Mary's proximity to God but her subservience to the Divine. This brings us to the last event in Vespers that draws us under Mary's mantle: the Magnificat. Although much time and effort and petitions are spent in the presence of Mary, everything about her is directed not unto herself but to He who created her and filled her “with good things.” It is God that makes her special. Thus, the Magnificat is, in Mary's own words, a glorification of God for all that he has done.

That is why Peter Damian wrote so much about her and saw the importance of giving her this time of day; by reciting Mary's own hymn at the dusk of every day, one participates in remembering all that God has done for Israel, for humanity. It is fitting that we say these words at this time. It is fitting that this should be her Hour. Believers can thank God for all blessings at the end of every day, and at the end of life as well. Then perhaps one can enter through this Gate of Heaven into paradise.

LR

To everything a season

It's asparagus season again! Did you know that?

(Don't worry, I swear I'm going somewhere with this. Stick with me!)

So. It's asparagus season. What does that even mean? What does that have to do with, well, anything? Especially, of all things, the Office of the Virgin Mary?

Peter Damian, in Letter 17, explains the practice of the daily services of seven hours by neatly aligning it with the "seven slight and small sins which we cannot avoid because of the weakness of human frailty" (p. 147). But while this provides a theological explanation of the practice of honoring God (and the Virgin) with daily offices that satisfies the Medieval frame of mind, I feel like there's something more basic to be examined here. Yes, the hours "should be performed by all Christian faithful as a daily task of service to God." But why does it take this form? Why not just one long prayer, or a different order of prayers? Why the same thing over and over, day in and day out?

To say that the service of hours is a practice is far from a simple definition. When we practice something, we may do it to to some end that we wish to improve (speaking Spanish, playing piano, learning lines for a play) or, as in the case of daily devotionals, we perform it with no end it sight, with no eye to a finished product. So if not to produce something, what is the value of repetition, of re-seeking the same thing over and over? The practices of each hour change from one to another, but not from day to day: a cycle, in other words. The daily routine of prayers is a beautiful way to honor God and especially his mother, not just of the content of the meaning but by the form of the practice itself. It acknowledges change from day to day, but in a predictable way.

I've been thinking a lot about these kinds of cycles because, yes, it's asparagus season. Three years ago, I didn't know asparagus had a season. It's always there in the grocery store, nestled between perennially-buxom tomatoes and perfect, crisp lettuce. But then I spent a summer working on a farm, weeding and harvesting and literally humbling myself with my hands in the dirt, and I learned that to everything there really is a season. There is a reason that people used to greet the return of Spring with such utter joy, and it was about more than just the return of warm weather and the impending end of the school year. Things begin to grow again, little stalks of asparagus poke out their heads in a reassuring reminder that though things change, they change in cycle.

This is the power that I see in the practice of the hours. The people of the Middle Ages knew the earth moved in circles. Consider the refrain of regnabo, regno, regnavi, the turn of the wheel of fortune, and the figure of Fortuna herself. Without getting too biological, I don't think it's a coincidence that a woman is the one to represent a constant turning of fate in cycles. She changes routinely, like the seasons, like the practice of the hours. To honor not just God, but Mary, who as a woman who knew in her body the regular rhythm of change before conceived the God-man who would redeem us, in the cyclical recitation of prayers works, a microcosm of the steady up-and-down waves seen in all of creation with human practice. It's a way to "help the Christian to live out a theology where language fails," as we have wondered about before. Peter Damian clearly had his own ideas about why the hours-as-such are necessary, but his ideas still ring more prescriptive than descriptive to me. Then again, his dramatic stories about the natural disasters that ensue when the hours are not practiced suggest that maybe he was aware of the link between the pattern of nature and the form of this devotional practice.

This is, of course, mostly my own conjecture, but it's what's been on my mind as I get ready for spring. I'm not going to claim there's necessarily anything sacred about heading up to the Farmers' Market and buying up a glut of new spring vegetables. And I don't want to descend into a kind of Brother-Sun-Sister-Moon false nostalgia for the times when people were truly "connected to the Earth." But I will say that there is a difference between eagerly waiting for the return of green to the fields and plucking out a bag of spinach from the year-round Eden of the produce section. There's knowing and awaiting the daily rise of the sun versus being jolted by the unexpected flicker of a fluorescent light. There might be a natural truth in the form of the hours that we've let fall away. After all, is it just a coincidence that we call Jesus "the fruit" of Mary's womb? Just a lovely bit of meaningless poetry, or does it invite us to think, daily, about the regular change of God's creation, and she who engendered it?

(As an addendum, for anyone interested in a far more eloquent and literary [albeit secular] treatise on the beauty of seasonality and food, I cannot recommend this book enough. And if you'd like to meditate more on the meaning of asparagus, I'll be volunteering at this market Saturday morning--please come say hi!)