St. Avitus of Vienne

Alcimus Ecdicius Avitus was born in Vienne, Gaul around 450. His father was the bishop of Vienne. At the time, episcopal honors were usually handed down through the family like noble titles. Around 490, Avitus was ordained the bishop of Vienne.

In 499, the Franks and Burgundians were at war. Vienne was taken by the Burgundians. Avitus was able to meet with both Gundobad of the Burgundians and Clovis of the Franks. Avitus seems to have had a skill for negotiating, because he also oversaw a conference between Catholic and Arian bishops at that time. Gundobad, being in the region, witnessed the bishops’ conference. Avitus and the Catholic bishops won over Gundobad and his son, Sigismund, who converted. Clovis also converted to Christianity. Avitus was known for working hard to unify fractions of the Church—Arian and Catholic, Eastern and Western.

Avitus was also a skilled writer. He wrote numerous letters and poems. His rhetoric was studied in schools in Gaul in the 4th and 5th centuries, and he is considered to be one of the influences on Milton. His letters provide rich source material for Merovingian history, including the accounts of the Burgundian and Frankish kings’ conversions.

St. Avitus died sometime between 517 and 519. His feast day is Feb. 5.

Annunciation


"Annunciation" by John Donne


That All, which always is all everywhere,
Which cannot sin, and yet all sins must bear,
Which cannot die, yet cannot choose but die,
Lo, faithful virgin, yields Himself to lie
In prison, in thy womb; and though He there
Can take no sin, nor thou give, yet He will wear,
Taken from thence, flesh, which death's force may try.
Ere by the spheres time was created, thou
Wast in His mind, who is thy Son and Brother;
Whom thou conceivst, conceived; yea thou art now
Thy Maker's maker, and thy Father's mother;
Thou hast light in dark, and shutst in little room,
Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb.
Salvation to all that will is nigh;

500: The Anabaptists

Introduction to 500 series

As Zwingli was bringing about radical reformation in Zurich, there was a group of reformers who believed he was not going far or fast enough.

Conrad Grebel had been a student at the Grossmünster. He then attended the University of Basel, University of Vienna, and University of Paris, though he never finished a degree. However, much like Zwingli, he was introduced to the humanist ideas of the day.

Felix Manz’s father was a canon at the Grossmünster. In 1521, he and Grebel met while both attending studies at the church led by Zwingli. The study group studied Greek, the Latin Bible, the Hebrew Old Testament and the Greek New Testament. Zwingli believed strongly in comparing translations of the Bible to original texts to derive true interpretation. 

When the city council debated abolishing the Mass and icons in 1523, the decision was to slowly fade out the practices rather than an outright rejection. They believed outright banning them would bring violent resistance, but that allowing Zwingli's ideas to flourish would naturally lead to the people rejecting Church practices. For the young radicals, this decision did not go far enough, nor such the civil city council be making religious decisions. The council was trying to appease the most people possible and avoid violent outbursts, but the radicals who had up until now followed Zwingli, felt that any appeasement was not following God. Fifteen men left Zwingli’s study group at that time and began their own study group.

More Than a Few Good Men

Today is the feast of St. Joseph, spouse of Mary, foster father of Jesus, protector of the Church, terror of demons. My devotion to St. Joseph has grown over the years. He’s such a role model of good masculinity—supportive, loving, steady, strong without being overbearing. I love how he's often shown carrying the child Jesus, an active and attentive father. 

Toxic masculinity is present in so many arenas these days. I’m not going to try to analyze what led us here. But there is a large, loud culture that praises bullying, distains women, and places value in material conquests. It baffles me that so many find the leaders and influencers of this movement appealing. Their over-charged, steroid-fueled bravado looks like weak posturing to me.

Men who are actually strong and comfortable with themselves have no need to study how to be a “real man” or publicly proclaim their own masculinity. Joseph never said a word in the Bible. He doesn’t need to.

500: An Affair of Sausages

Introduction to 500 series

At this point, Zwingli’s preachings, though deviating from Church teachings, have not aroused too much condemnation. The Church, in dealing with Luther, is reluctant to make statements against a priest pushing the boundaries, hoping that they can contain him rather than creating outrage and fracturing.

However, during Lent of 1522, Zwingli and about a dozen parishioners consciously broke the fasting rules. They distributed two smoked sausages. Zwingli preached the following Sundays that rules on food and fasting were not derived from the Bible and therefore to break the rules of fasting were not sins. This became known as the Affair of Sausages and is marked the start of the Reformation in Switzerland.

The Diocese of Constance felt that it had to react to Zwingli's blatant disregard of Church teachings. A delegation was sent to Zurich. In May, the bishop admonished Zwingli, the participating parishioners, and the city council. In turn, in July, Zwingli and some others petitioned the bishop to abolish the requirement of celibacy for clergy. The petition was printed in German and distributed to the public. It became known throughout the city that Zwingli had already secretly gotten married. The bishop responded, telling the Zurich government to maintain ecclesiastical order over their city.

Ashes and Graphite

I was recently re-watching one of my favorite series in which historians live for a year replicating a certain era as best as possible. The particular season I was watching was Victorian Farm. In the first episode they are setting up house, including opening up the large fireplace in the kitchen and installing a coal-powered range. After the new range was in place, the first thing they did was rub black graphite all over it.

I admit, I had never given much thought to why old stoves were black. The 100-year-old iron stove itself was newly restored. As the blacking process started, it didn't seem to make sense; to me, it was just rubbing grime on a clean, new stove. But the graphite serves an important role. It prevents the iron from rusting. It preserves one of the most important items in the home, insuring it will last a long time. Also, it gives the range a shiny polish to it.

I was thinking of blacking stoves this morning as people received their ashes. It look likes we’re rubbing dirt on our faces. Some find the public display a form of performative piety. But the ashes are meant to call us to humility—you are mortal; repent and believe.

Appearing Husks

From today's readings:

"When a sieve is shaken, the husks appear;
so do one’s faults when one speaks.
As the test of what the potter molds is in the furnace,
so in tribulation is the test of the just.
The fruit of a tree shows the care it has had;
so too does one’s speech disclose the bent of one’s mind.
Praise no one before he speaks,
for it is then that people are tested." - Sirach 27:4-7

Like so many, I was horrified and embarrassed by the weak, bullying behavior against Ukrainian President Zelenskyy during his visit to the White House this week. A man came on behalf of his people who are suffering from an unprovoked invasion. He was willing to negotiate for aid and support, even offering up the country's mineral rights. Instead, the men in the room mocked him, yelled at him, and demanded he kowtow to the invader. They taught they looked strong, but they just looked like schoolyard bullies, unable to regulate their emotions or conduct diplomacy. 

Love Your Enemies? Ugh, OK

Like many Southern towns, there’s a road in my city where you pass several churches in just a few blocks, one after the other. I was driving down this road the other day when I noticed that each church had the same banner: “Love Your Neighbor.” Then I started noticing the banner in front of churches all over town. It turns out that about 30 churches collaborate every year on the weekend following Valentine’s Day to preach on love of neighbor. I love seeing ecumenical efforts like this.

Of course, the liturgical readings also lend to this effort. That particular weekend was the Beatitudes, and this past weekend was about loving your enemies.

What a hard reading but necessary reading in the current climate. There is so much hurt and anger. But the truth is that we can’t let the times and circumstances change us. We are called to love.

What does love of enemies look like? It does not mean tolerating injustice. But it can mean swallowing our pride, holding back reactionary words, carrying heavy burdens. Those who curse or injure us are children of God, and even if they can’t see that, we should. God loves them, so we should love them, even when their actions are wrong and harmful. Every individual in front of us should be treated with compassion, and yes, forgiveness.

Monday Motivation: Presidents' Day

 From George Washington:

"A good moral character is the first essential in a man...It is therefore highly important that you should endeavor not only to be learned but virtuous. "

" Truth will ultimately prevail where pains is taken to bring it to light."

"Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire, called conscience."

From Abraham Lincoln:

"I am responsible … to the American people, to the Christian world, to History, and on my final account to God."

"I planted myself upon the truth, and the truth only, so far as I knew it, or could be brought to know it."

"With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds."

500: Reformation Swiss-style

I originally did my 500 series in 2017 on the lead up to the 500th anniversary of Luther's 95 theses, considered the beginning of Protestantism. I didn't continue it, as the stories grow convoluted as different branches of faith arise in different areas with overlapping timelines. However, this year is the 500th anniversary of Anabaptism, a movement which many of my ancestors followed. So I will continue the series a bit on the lead up to the radical "re-baptizers." 

Ulrich Zwingli was born in 1484 in Switzerland into a family of farmers. At age ten, he was sent to school in Basel, then three years later went to Bern. He studied under the Dominicans, and it’s possible he became a novice. However, he did not join the Dominicans and instead went to the University of Vienna and the University of Basel. He was ordained a priest in 1506.

He served as a pastor in Glarus, a city whose soldiers served as mercenaries all over Europe. Zwingli served as a chaplain for several campaigns in Italy against the French. However, after the Battle of Marignano in 1515, the city began to side more strongly with the French (against the Papal States).

Zwingli, loyal to the pope, left to Einsiedeln monastery for two years, retreating from politics. He grew convinced that mercenary service was immoral, and he furthered his theological studies. He began corresponding with humanists, and even met with Erasmus twice. During this time, his theology evolved. He grew strongly convinced that doctrine must be backed up by scripture (rather than scripture, tradition, and Church documents). In December 1518 a post opened up at the Grossmünster in Zurich; his positions on humanist reform and opposition to the French/Italian politics were welcomed in Zurich, and he became the priest at the Grossmünster. (Note that this is about 14 months after Luther in Germany has posted his theses.)

House of Protection

With the new laws allowing immigration officers to enter schools and churches, the concept of sanctuary has been on my mind. Sacred spaces have offered protection for millennia. There was an understanding that even a fugitive had the right to worship unimpeded. Greek and Roman temples offered this protection, and the early Christian churches did the same. In Rome, by law, a criminal claiming sanctuary in a sacred space could not be harmed, removed, or arrested. This gave the person and the authorities time to calm down and make rational decisions as well as gave the person claiming sanctuary permission to pray or repent. Further, it protected the church from being the site of violent clashes between authorities and criminals.

After the fall of Rome, Christian states still practiced sanctuary. It was seen as distasteful to bring weapons or secular authority into the sacred space of a church. Fugitives claiming sanctuary were often expected to convert (if not Christian), repent, or work to negotiate a peaceful resolution (such as exile without pursuit).

Over time, the practiced became less common, particularly after wealthy men abused the system, finding way to stay in sanctuary for long periods of time to avoid punishment rather than using it for immediate safety. In 1623, England outlawed the practice.

Most European countries didn’t have actual laws around sanctuary; it was just an understood practice that to enter a church in order to arrest someone was a violation of the sacred space.

Similarly, the U.S. held an unofficial practice of sanctuary—at times more respected than others. Churches protected escaping slaves in the nineteenth century and draft dodgers in the twentieth century.

Empathy is not a sin

What an exhausting few weeks.

The rapid-fire cruelly of those in control has been overwhelming for many who are paying attention. And inauguration day itself was not immune from it.

The National Cathedral is Episcopalian, but it also serves as the closest to a national church that the country has. It hosts interfaith prayer service and state funerals. Before election day, the theme of the service was set: “for all Americans, for the well-being of our nation, for our democracy.” Readings and songs revolved around themes of compassion and togetherness, including a reading from Deut. 10:17-21, on taking care of orphans and widows and all those in need.

The cathedral’s bishop, Bishop Mariann Budde, gave a sermon focused on unity, as one would expect. And boy, did some people hate it.

And what was so wrong about her words? She asked for mercy for those who are scared and marginalized. She didn’t say to condone their actions. She merely asked for those in power to remember the powerless, to have some empathy and compassion.

In response, right-wingers called for her to be defrocked, deported, and accused her of “the sin of empathy.” The vicious backlash to her sermon was striking—and also proved her point. There is no compassion being shown. Those in power are not expressing Christian virtues. And if they want to sit in her church for a prayer service to appear Christian, then she has every right—I’d say an obligation—to try to impress on them some Christianity.

If people are offended by a sermon on unity and compassion, I don’t think the problem is the sermon.

Monday Motivation: MLK Day

Some of the quotes by Martin Luther King, Jr. inscribed on the MLK Memorial:

"We shall overcome because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice."

"I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant."

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly."

"We must concentrate not merely on the negative expulsion of war, but the positive affirmation of peace."

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy."


St. Agostina Pietrantoni

Livia Pietrantoni was born March 27, 1864 to a poor family of farmers in Italy. At a young age, she did manual labor for road construction and harvested olives. In 1886 she travelled to Rome with an uncle who was a priest in hopes of joining a religious order. Her first inquiry with the Sisters of Divine Charity was declined, but she was later accepted. Upon joining the congregation, she adopted the name Agostina.

As a sister, she worked as a nurse in the Santo Spirito Hospital. She worked on the tuberculosis ward, ultimately contracted the disease herself. She recovered and continued to work with the tuberculosis patients. On one occasion, she confiscated a knife from a patient named Giuseppe Romanelli, who in turn attacked and beat her. She reassured her sisters that she could continue to work. When his mother would visit him, Sister Agostina made a point of welcoming her.

Romanelli was eventually expelled from the hospital for harassing the women who worked in the hospital laundry. After being expelled, he continued to harass Sister Agostina. He sent her obscenities and death threats. On Nov. 12, 1894 her sisters, worried for safety, requested she take time off, but Sister Agostina refused to quit and continued her work. Romanelli entered the hospital and attacked her the next morning, stabbing her to death. As she lay dying of her wounds, she forgave her killer.

St. Agostina Pietrantoni is a patron saint for nurses, abuse victims, and against poverty. Her feast day is Nov. 13.

Monday Motivation: Change the World

"What we would like to do is change the world—make it a little simpler for people to feed, clothe, and shelter themselves as God intended them to do. And, by fighting for better conditions, by crying out unceasingly for the rights of the workers, the poor, of the destitute—the rights of the worthy and the unworthy poor, in other words—we can, to a certain extent, change the world; we can work for the oasis, the little cell of joy and peace in a harried world. We can throw our pebble in the pond and be confident that its ever widening circle will reach around the world. We repeat, there is nothing we can do but love, and, dear God, please enlarge our hearts to love each other, to love our neighbor, to love our enemy as our friend.” ― Dorothy Day

Pilgrims of Hope

The magi are fascinating figures; gentiles, seeing signs in the sky, who travel a long way to worship a poor baby. They are mysterious—in their origin and knowledge. They bring gifts that don’t make sense at first. They are given directions by Herod, which they don’t heed, leaving them to escape away by another path, mysteriously.

Epiphany reminds us that from His birth, some recognized the greatness, the divinity, of Jesus. They had sudden revelation—be it from angels in the field or stars in the sky. They saw the truth and heeded the signs.

As the Church celebrated the Jubilee Year with the theme “pilgrims of hope,” the magi represent pilgrimage well. They have heard a call, and they travel great distance in order to find God. The magi recognized Herod’s evil motives and rejected them. Similarly, we must spurn evil and remain focused on our journey. The magi’s pilgrimage must have seemed foolish to some—vague information, long and expensive travel, entering a land and culture different from one’s own. Yet the magi were filled with hope and purpose. They trusted that they were being led to something magnificent.