Otto and Adelaide had five children, but problems arose when a son by his first wife became jealous of his stepmother. This young man attempted to start a rebellion, but he could not induce the German population to think ill of Adelaide. In 962, Otto was declared emperor at Rome. Ten years later, he died, and Adelaide’s oldest son took his place as Otto II. In a sad moment of political intrigue, the newly powerful son turned against his mother. Such turmoil and struggles for power within the family continued until 991 when the elderly Adelaide became regent. Though feeble, she was able to restore monasteries and convents in her realm. She died on December 16, 999, at a monastery she had founded near Strasbourg.
DECEMBER 17
Jose Manyanet y Vives (1833–1901)
Family nurture
Jose’s father died when he was less than two years old. He grew up under the close supervision of a Spanish priest who became his spiritual director. This, in conjunction with his mother’s devotion, led him into a life of ministry. Ordained in 1859, he became a seminary librarian with additional duties of pastoral visitation. Spiritually nurturing families became his lifelong passion. The magazine he started, La Sagrada Familia (The Holy Family), remains in publication today. His concept was that the home life of Jesus in Nazareth could be a workable pattern for modern families.
Frail, and coping with many obstacles, Jose Manyanet found the inner strength to lead a vital ministry to families that spread around the world. For sixteen years he carried wounds in his side that refused to be healed. He called them “God’s mercies.”
Jose died in Barcelona in 1901. The last words he spoke were a prayer he had used many times throughout his life: “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, may my soul pass away in peace with you.”
DECEMBER 18
Flannan (seventh century)
Wandering preacher
An Irish monk, Flannan received his ordination in Rome (a charming fable contends he got there on a floating stone) and returned to become the first bishop of Killaloe. Irish monks like Flannan were often wandering preachers. A group of small islands west of Scotland carries his name because he spent some time in religious activity on them. A few stones remaining on one of them may mark Flannan’s chapel.
DECEMBER 19
Nemesius of Alexandria (d. 250)
Faithful courage
During the persecution of Christians in Egypt by the emperor Trajanus Decius, the police arrested Nemesius and two other men for being thieves. When he was proven innocent of that charge, they then accused Nemesius of being a Christian, a charge he did not deny. The result was a Roman scourging of the cruelest sort and a sentence of death. The authorities burned him alive in Alexandria, executing him between two criminals, in the year 250.
DECEMBER 20
Dominic of Silos (ca. 1000–73)
Restoration of property and freedom
Many Dominics populate the history of the Christian Church. The one we remember today was a self-educated farm boy who became a priest. A mother who prayed for a child at the shrine of Dominic of Silos gratefully applied Dominic’s name to her son. That baby grew up to become the founder of the Dominicans (August 8).
Dominic of Silos fell into disfavor with Garcia III of Navarre, who exiled him to Castile. Ferdinand I of Castile extended a welcome and in 1041 sent Dominic to restore the monastery of Silos. It had fallen into ruin, though still occupied and functioning with six resident monks. Mass was being celebrated when Dominic arrived. The monk who was officiating was at one point supposed to say, Dominus vobiscum. Instead, he impulsively called out, “Behold, the restorer is here!” The story goes that the choir responded, “It is the Lord who sent him.”
Dominic of Silos achieved remarkable success. He rebuilt the chapel and designed new cloisters. With his guidance, the abbey turned into a proficient producer of manuscripts, some of which still exist.
Dominic did not confine his work to this monastery that ultimately took his name. While there, his reputation attracted many in need of healing. By the end of his life in 1073, the monastery had more than forty monks who worked as craftsmen in gold and silver, earning enough to do significant charitable work in the surrounding area. Dominic would often visit prisoners and pay their ransom. Visitors to the chapel’s vault today may see balls-and-chains, handcuffs, and other hardware used by the Spanish Moors to hold the captives Dominic helped free.
DECEMBER 21
Thomas (first century)
First-hand knowledge
This apostle of Christ is stuck forever with a nickname. “Doubting Thomas” has come into the English language as a term for any habitually doubtful person. But there is another side to doubt. Tennyson wrote: “There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds.” Thomas is not a one-dimensional character. “Doubting Thomas” is a partial truth.
Actually, Thomas was one of the most loyal and dedicated of the twelve apostles. His nickname according to the Gospel of John is “Thomas, called the Twin.” He turns up at several interesting places in John’s narrative.
Thomas spoke up when Jesus prepared to visit some special friends in a small town near Jerusalem. Mary, Martha, and Lazarus lived in Bethany, and their home was one of his favorite stops. News reached Jesus that Lazarus had died. As Jesus decided to go see Mary and Martha, his disciples were horrified. They knew he would be walking into a beehive of hostility in that neighborhood. Twice, in the past four months, religious leaders in Jerusalem had tried to kill Jesus. They hesitated to accompany him into such a deadly environment. It was Thomas who encouraged the others to go along with Jesus: “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”
That was not the melancholy comment of a pessimist. Thomas was facing a reality that Calvary confirmed. As a realist, he saw the dangers, but he was still able to think clearly and act effectively. “Let’s go” are the words of a hero, a true leader who will not be deterred by any threat.
The next time we hear of Thomas is at the Last Supper in the Upper Room. Jesus has been pouring his heart out, saying, “I go and prepare a place for you.” A bewildered Thomas jumped in with a sharp question. “Lord, we do not know where you are going! How can we know the way?”
Jesus was talking about the way to heaven, and Thomas wanted a road map. Thomas is an example of a practical mind dealing with mysticism. His common sense bumped into divine knowledge. Once again, Thomas faced the tension between the real and the ideal, between emotion and reason.
The famous doubting scene occurred when the resurrected Jesus appeared to some women and his disciples. For an unexplained reason, Thomas was not present for Christ’s early appearances. When the women and the disciples told him about it, his response was that he could not believe them unless he could see and touch Christ’s wounds. Eight days later, Jesus returned and invited Thomas to make his reality checks. Interestingly, the Gospel does not tell us that Thomas actually touched Jesus’ wounds. He simply said, “My Lord and my God!
DECEMBER 22
Peter Canisius (1521–97)
Positive response
A positive response to the Reformation that was sweeping across Europe with the force of an avalanche in the sixteenth century began with a few individual leaders. Their names do not immediately come to mind as certainly as Luther and Calvin, but they emerged from the turmoil and despair with a desire to make a difference. They confidently turned to God, willing to learn new lessons.
Peter Canisius, born in Nijmegen, Holland, was one of the great, steadying influences in the history of the church in Central Europe. He understood it was time for Roman Catholics to make important changes. Some Protestants called him “the dog,” making a play on the literal translation of his last name.
Peter was an early Jesuit, the eighth person to join the Society of Jesus. His ministry took him to Sicily, Rome, Bavaria, Vienna, Germany, Poland, and Switzerland, traveling thousands of miles on horseback and on his own two feet. He led the action of the Counter-Reformation in two significant dire
ctions.
Most important, Peter was confident that the gospel message was positive and healing. Jesus Christ was above human controversy. In the manner of Francis de Sales (January 24), Peter Canisius was an outstanding Christian diplomat. He treated his Protestant adversaries with courtesy and respect. His Catechism, published in the doctrinal heat of 1555, makes no reference to the positions taken by Protestant leaders. It is simply a clear, concise, and systematic statement of faith in question and answer form. Welcomed like a desert oasis, his work was translated into many languages and was respected on both sides of the theological debate. His condensed versions became enormously popular. Peter Canisius expressed the wholesome, universal appeal of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
The sixteenth century offered an opportunity to find ways to use the press for communication and evangelism. Martin Luther comprehended the new potency of the printed word, but church leaders were often slow to catch on. Canisius put his pen to work, writing for the public as well as for students. Publishing became one of his major interests.
Peter Canisius died at Fribourg, Switzerland, after a crippling illness that forced him to write through an amanuensis.
DECEMBER 23
Servulus (d. ca. 590)
Faithful exmple
It is not unusual in large cities today to see homeless people camped out on church porticos. In the sixth century, Servulus was a tetraplegic beggar whose mother and brother carried him every day to a place near the door of St. Clement’s in ancient Rome. Since birth, it was impossible for him to stand, sit upright, turn from one side to the other, or to lift a hand to his mouth. Living on the handouts of passersby, he shared the small gifts he received with other homeless beggars. He enjoyed having the Bible read to him and memorized many passages. Gregory the Great (September 3) delivered a moving sermon, based on his personal experiences with Servulus, that remains in print today.
DECEMBER 24
Paola Elisabetta (1816–65)
Commitment
Beginning her life as Costanza Cerioli, this frail Italian child was the youngest in a family of sixteen children. After a difficult life marked with illness, grief, and many stresses, she placed herself into the hands of God, praying constantly for faith.
At thirty-eight, she determined to become a nurturer of others. Expressing the love of God in Christ became her single interest. Orphans, struggling to survive life in the streets, moved her to extreme generosity. Others expressed astonishment by the degree of her commitment to such children, but some were impressed enough to join her in her work.
In 1857 this “mother of many orphans” founded the Institute of the Sisters of the Holy Family, taking the name Paola Elisabetta. She directed those who shared her ministry to exhibit “the same spirit of humble labor that Jesus, Mary, and Joseph lived.”
Her death came without warning at the age of forty-nine, on December 24, 1865.
DECEMBER 25
The Nativity of Christ
Incarnation
The Gospel record of the birth of Jesus reminds us of two vitally important things: He was God’s only begotten Son, and he was fully human, complete with umbilical cord and an infant’s dependent vulnerability.
The earliest Christian preaching and teaching emphasized Jesus’ death and resurrection. In this, we have evidence of God at work in our world. Eventually, the first evangelists began to recount the things Jesus said, and they reported his activity among people. Details regarding the conception, birth, and childhood of Jesus appear to have come later in the process of telling others about him.
Behind various episodes in the familiar Christmas story there are firm points of agreement. Mary and Joseph were engaged, but had not had sexual relations. Joseph was a descendent of King David. Angels announced the birth and stated the name of Jesus. God’s Holy Spirit was involved in Mary’s pregnancy. Bethlehem during the reign of King Herod was the place and time of his birth. Jesus grew up in Nazareth.
All of this, though satisfying to a scholar, fails to recognize the “music” of this day. It is a mixture of celebration and quietness, of joy and sorrow, of flesh and spirit, of heaven and earth.
DECEMBER 26
Stephen (first century)
Courage of conviction
The first person to die for believing in Christ was a young man with a good reputation. Stephen became one of the first seven deacons chosen by the Apostles to serve tables. Everything we know about him is contained in the book of Acts.
After making a stirring speech to a hostile audience with “a face like the face of an angel,” Stephen was stoned to death. With his final breath, he reported a mystical vision of Jesus sitting at the right hand of God. He prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. Do not hold this against them.”
A “young man named Saul” (June 29) stood there holding the cloaks of the murderers, “consenting to his death.”
DECEMBER 27
John (first century)
Centrality of love
One of two “sons of Thunder” among the disciples of Jesus, John needed a lot of spiritual guidance. For instance, John criticized an independent healer who was using the name of Jesus. Jesus rebuked John by saying, “He that is not against us is for us.” And it was John with his brother James (July 25) who presumptuously asked “to sit one on your right hand and one on your left in your glory,” only to have Jesus tell them, “You don’t know what you are asking.” As much as he needed to develop spiritually, Scripture makes it clear that John was “the disciple Jesus loved.” He sat next to Jesus at the Last Supper.
It was to John that Jesus, from the cross, entrusted the care of his mother. It was John who recognized and identified his risen Savior when the disciples were fishing on the Sea of Galilee: “It is the Lord!” It was John who joined Peter and James to be with Jesus at the highest spiritual moments of his ministry—the resuscitation of the daughter of Jairus, the transfiguration on the mountain, and the agony of prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane the night of his betrayal.
Jerome (September 30) put in writing an old tale that was in circulation about John. As the last surviving apostle, he accepted an invitation to speak at the Ephesian church. This was a highly publicized event, and the church overflowed with eager listeners. When John arrived he was so feeble he had to be carried into the church. Following a lengthy worship service and an eloquent introduction, attendants lifted John to his feet before a hushed and expectant congregation. The old man said, “Little children, love one another, love one another, love one another,” and then sat down, having presented the heart of the gospel.
DECEMBER 28
Anthony of Lerins (d. ca. 520)
Solitude
Anthony grew up in the ancient Roman province of Pannonia, which was in today’s Balkan Mountain area. Anthony was only eight years old when his father died. Passed around from guardian to guardian, he was about twenty in the year 488 when he sought solitude near Lake Como in Italy. Living in a cave, Anthony engaged in prayer, study, and gardening. Against his wishes, he attracted many visitors who interrupted his time alone.
Because he thought the notoriety and fame he was acquiring were harmful, he crossed the Alps into southern France and became a monk at Lerins. He lived there as quietly as possible until his death nearly two years later.
DECEMBER 29
Thomas Becket (1118–70)
Faithful service
Despite being good friends, King Henry II and Thomas Becket engaged in a perilous struggle to determine the line of authority between church and state. King Henry II appointed Thomas his royal chancellor, a position of responsibility and power second only to that of the king himself. The chancellor held the purse strings and performed important administrative duties. Thomas proved to be an extraordinarily supportive and capable assistant.
King Henry wanted to consolidate his power by making Thomas archbishop of Canterbury. He proposed the idea to Thomas upon the death of archbishop Theobold in 1162. Thomas hesitated, but allo
wed the king to carry out his plan. He was ordained a priest and soon enough was consecrated archbishop of Canterbury in a spectacular event.
As in most such schemes, there was a transparency in the king’s motives. The leaders already in place at the cathedral did not welcome their new archbishop from beside the throne. But a curious thing happened. Thomas Becket took his new position seriously and began to claim independence from Henry by resigning his office of chancellor. He began to fast and pray with earnest devotion.
Systematically, and in bold and dramatic ways, Thomas began to untangle the church in England from civil authority. In 1164 King Henry secured the enactment of the Constitutions of Clarendon that limited the right of appeal to Rome in ecclesiastical cases, restricted the power of excommunication, subjected clergy to civil courts, and put the election of bishops under the control of the king. At this point, Thomas Becket openly broke with Henry II. For his own safety, Thomas fled to France until the situation cooled.
In July, 1170, Henry met Thomas on the beach at Normandy, where they made amends. After what was essentially a six-year exile, Thomas returned to Canterbury. The issues of church and state, however, remained unsettled. Emotions raged and tempers flared. Four Norman knights determined to execute Thomas Becket after they heard King Henry II say, “What a set of idle cowards I keep in my kingdom who allow me to be mocked so shamefully by a low-born clerk.” They took these words as an order rather than as an expression of exasperation. When they arrived at Canterbury on December 29, they cornered Becket. He offered no resistance as they murdered him with their swords. As he lay dying, Becket quoted Jesus, saying, “Into thy hands, Lord, I commend my spirit.” A thunderstorm began to rage as the murderers ran out of the cloister.
Though the common people may not have fully understood every facet of the contest, they knew that Thomas Becket was a man of principle who was killed for standing in the way of an autocratic king. The tomb of Thomas Becket became one of the most popularly visited shrines in Western Europe. The site, and what it represented, was an irritation to King Henry VIII, who ordered it destroyed.
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