Today the church honors two unsung, and largely unknown, first Apostles: St. Simon and St. Jude, Companions of Jesus.
St. Simon the Zealot (sometimes called “Simon the Less” to distinguish him from Simon-Peter) and St. Jude (sometimes called “Jude the Obscure” because he is largely known for not being Judas Iscariot) were numbered in those first twelve apostles, saw Jesus post-resurrection, ate with him, and were sent out to preach the Gospel.
But that’s all we really know about them.
Luke is the writer who calls Simon a “Zealot,” which could mean that he was a member of the Zealot party in ancient Palestine, a radically “anti-Roman rule” faction. It’s worth highlighting that, if Simon was a Zealot, then it meant he walked with Matthew the Tax Collector in shared mission…an anti-Roman activist and pro-Roman bureaucrat working together in Jesus’ inner-circle.
Let that sink in…Jesus’ inner circle had people with diametrically opposing viewpoints…
St. Jude (who some think wrote the epistle of Jude) is sometimes called Thaddaeus or Lebbaeus in Matthew, perhaps to distinguish him from Judas Iscariot.
There is a little-known apocryphal book called “The Passion of Simon and Jude” that says that St. Jude preached for a decade in Mesopotamia and that he and Simon labored in Persia together where they were martyred in tandem (hence why they are commemorated together today).
St. Simon is rumored to have been sawn in half…which is why he’s often depicted with a saw. St. Jude is often depicted with an ax because…well…you get the picture.
There is also a little fun legend about St. Jude healing the King of Edessa, and other stories about them fighting against Zoroastrianism in the ancient world.
Today, St. Jude is probably best known as being the namesake of hospitals and organizations that provide care to the most critical causes. In fact, in Roman Catholicism St. Jude is the patron saint of “hopeless causes.”
Why, you might ask?
Well, because St. Jude is so obscure and had no cultic following, Roman Catholic theologians thought that perhaps he might welcome and be attentive to the most desperate prayers.
St. Simon the Zealot is a reminder for me that the church has always had radicals within its walls, and was political from its very inception.
St. Jude is a reminder for me that sometimes the people who seem forgettable and least important become the ones we lean on the most in our most desperate hours.
-Pfatteicher’s New Book of Festivals & Commemorations helped with the historical pieces of the saints
Today I would lobby hard for the church to remember and honor a modern saint who was able to stand tall while still being seated: Rosa Parks, Activist and Inspiration.
Rosa Parks was born in 1913 in Tuskegee, Alabama to a teacher and a carpenter, and at a young age learned how to work well with her hands, making quilts and dresses on her own. She attended some secondary school, but primarily worked to help care for ill family members. One of her earliest memories was having to walk to school, because the school bus was reserved for white children, and how when the KKK marched down her street in front of her house, her grandfather took up post at the front door with a shotgun.
These memories left a mark.
Rosa married Raymond, a barber and NAACP member in 1932. At her husband’s urging, she finished her High School studies, and in 1943 was elected secretary of their local NAACP chapter, having become an active member herself. Even within the NAACP chapter in Alabama she was a trailblazer, being the only woman in active leadership. In her work there she aided investigations on rape, unlawful incarceration, and discrimination. She eventually was trained at the famous Highlander Folk School on Monteagle, Tennessee, and was able to successfully register to vote on her third attempt.
Her third attempt.
Louder for folx in the back because we continue to see voter intimidation and racially-tinged roadblocks put in place still today…the issue has morphed, it hasn’t disappeared.
To get around Montgomery, Parks walked or took the bus. Now, in 1900 Alabama had passed a law that bus segregation was up to the discretion of the driver. They could assign certain rows as “colored” rows, and increase or decrease the rows depending on their whims.
They could even just remove the sign altogether, making the whole bus for white people only.
Rosa boarded a bus one day, paid the same as the rest of the passengers, but was told by the driver, a James F. Blake, that she had to exit and enter from the rear door. When she exited to enter from the rear door, Blake put the bus in gear and took off before she could board, robbing her of her fare and leaving her in a downpour.
He could take her fare, but she vowed that he would never again rob her of her dignity.
On December 1st in 1955 after working a full day, Rosa Parks got on a bus at 6pm and sat in the first row reserved for people of color. It was the 11th row in a long bus, the first ten rows being reserved for white passengers. As the bus went on its route, the first ten rows began to fill. The driver that day was familiar to Rosa…it was James F. Blake, and at the third stop he moved the segregation sign three rows back, telling a number of passengers that they had to give up their seats for white patrons.
Three of her fellow passengers moved, but Rosa just scooted toward the window, freeing up space but refusing to relocate toward the back of the bus. Blake noticed Rosa refused to stand and relocate and said that, if she did not, he would call the authorities to have her arrested.
“You may do that,” Rosa said plainly.
Now, some try to soften this story by saying that Rosa was “tired,” and didn’t want to give up her seat due to fatigue. But in her own account she refutes that softening noting that she wasn’t physically tired, but rather that she was tired of being treated as a second class citizen, and tired of having her humanity stripped away.
“I was tired of giving in,” she said.
Parks was arrested, and the incident effectively kicked off the Montgomery bus boycott. In rain or shine, the black community banded together and refused to give a nickel to the unjust system for 381 days as the official case slowly worked through a cumbersome courts system. It was eventually deemed unconstitutional to segregate the buses in this way.
Parks became an icon in the Civil Rights movement working to elect black leaders (John Conyers), fought for women’s rights (serving on the board of Planned Parenthood), and lobbying for those unjustly incarcerated. All the while she received death threats and continual persecution, even having to leave Montgomery directly after her arrest because she could not find work due to her national standing.
Yet, she persisted.
In 1987 she co-founded the Rosa and Raymond Parks Institute for Self Development (note the name order!) which helps to teach young people about the importance of Black history and the Civil Rights movement (which continues on).
She died on this day in 2005 at the age of 92.
Rosa Parks is a reminder for me, and should be for everyone, that the fact that something is legal does not make it just, and sometimes you have to stand tall in a situation even if it means keeping your seat.
-historical bits from public sources
-icon “Rosa Parks Iron Man” written by Bart Cooper, an ode to her fortitude
On this day the church honors a saint with a familiar name, but one who is often confused with other similarly-named apostles. Today is the feast day of St. James of Jerusalem, Brother of Our Lord.
St. James is noted in the books of Matthew and Mark as one of the brothers of Jesus. In the book of Galatians, St. Paul wrote that he met St. James on his first visit to the city.
In the same way that St. Peter led the church in Rome, St. James was the leader of the church in Jerusalem and, with such a distinct role, you’d think we’d hear more about him in the scriptures…but we just don’t.
At question is his actual kinship with Jesus. In trying to highlight how singularly significant Jesus is in history, many Christian writers have struggled to let any siblings be a part of the story. But it’s worth noting that it would have been quite unusual for Mary and Joseph to have only had one child. In the ancient world that was not common family-planning. At the heart of this speculation, though, is not even really Jesus, but rather Mary. In an effort to keep her singularly virginal, all sorts of stories cropped up about a first marriage for Joseph in which he sired other children, making St. James the step-sibling of Jesus.
This is all fancy family footwork without any substance.
To add to the confusion, some historians of the early church suggest that this James is the same “James the Less” who was one of Jesus’ disciples with a different parentage altogether. The thought is that St. James was the son of Mary of Clopas, the younger sister of Mary, Mother of Our Lord. While it is true that the same word for “brother” can also mean “cousin” in the ancient world, this, too, seems far fetched and an attempt to solve a problem that is not really there.
Jesus had siblings. It’s OK. We can all get over it.
St. James of Jerusalem really first comes on the scene post-resurrection when he is met by the risen Jesus. The early church considered him an important piece in the first stories of the church, perhaps as a replacement for St. James, Son of Zebedee (who was martyred early on).
In the same way that St. Paul felt a special calling to the Gentile-Christians, St. James of Jerusalem spent his ministry with the Jewish-Christians. It is believed he was martyred sometime in the early 60’s, right around the composition of the first Gospels. Some early church historians even claim it was the priest Annas who ordered his stoning, though this is more lore than anything.
Today is an especially appropriate day to lift up prayers for the church in Jerusalem.
St. James of Jerusalem is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church, of two important things:
First, when we attempt to make Jesus so “special” we actually rob him of the most relatable parts of his being. The idea that he had siblings is kind of neat to me because, as someone who knows what it’s like to juggle family relationships, he knows a bit of my experience…our human experience. I mean, isn’t a central thought of the church that we are all the siblings of Jesus? Why must it be correct theologically, but not biologically?
Religious folks struggle with biology…
Secondly, the church has always struggled with niche ministry, worried that it would rub too much against the norm. St. Paul felt a calling to the Gentiles, and St. James of Jerusalem to the Jewish-Christians. Today some pastors feel a call to ministry on the streets, or to marginalized communities, or even to Wall Street Brokers. Some pastors don’t feel a call to the pulpit, but rather to the pavement. Some leaders don’t even feel a call to the priesthood, but are feeling a push to live as prophets.
From the early church, specialized ministry was already happening, and yet we still struggle so much with those who want to “do something different” with their call or want to start communities that don’t look a lot like conventional “church” communities.
Why?
-most historical bits, with the exception of some of the commentary around controversies, aided by Pfatteicher’s New Book of Festivals & Commemorations
Today the church honors the Feast Day of St. Luke, the Evangelist.
We believe Luke was a Greek, and a Gentile, but we’re not really sure where he’s from or much about his life, other than he was a physician. He was a disciple of St. Paul and worked alongside him in missionary endeavors.
In Luke’s Gospel (which has a sequel in the Book of Acts) we learn that Luke was not an eyewitness to anything Jesus did or said. According to early lore Luke wrote his Gospel in Greece and preached in Bithynia, though we can’t verify any of that. Lore also has him reaching the ripe old age of eighty-four, a bachelor all those years.
Again, none of that is really more than speculation.
There is also an obviously dubious claim that he painted the first picture of Mary, Mother of Our Lord. For this reason many icons have him holding a painting of her.
The observance of this day as his feast day is quite old in the Eastern Church, and may be closely associated with the actual day of his death. On this day in many places people will make special donations to hospitals and nursing homes, an homage to this physician-evangelist, and there may have even been some “healing services” or anointing services happening in some churches (unless there is a prolonged pandemic…in which case I imagine this physician would rather churches refrain from meeting in person rather than risk infection).
Luke’s spiritual sign is the patient ox, because he plods along in his story, slowly, recounting in detail much about Jesus and the life of the early church.
Luke’s Gospel is marked by special attention to women, the sick, and the marginalized communities in general in the ancient world. For this reason it is the favorite Gospel of many. Luke, for instance, has Jesus giving his main sermon not on a mountain, but on a plain…a sign of equality (and, also, a reminder that the Gospels don’t all match up). Luke also notes that “Blessed are the poor” in his recounting of the Beatitudes includes an economic element. Matthew changed it to “poor in spirit,” but Luke has it as “those who are in poverty.”
Luke, and in his recounting, Jesus, cares deeply for the poor, the sick, and the marginalized.
He is a reminder for me, and for the whole church, that the church, too, has a duty first and foremost not to the powerful, but to those Jesus felt a duty toward: the poor, the sick, and the marginalized.
The ancient Celts found October to rest under the Ivy Moon. Now half past the month, the harvest is pretty much done and everything is starting to wear its nakedness.
But they called this Autumn moon Ivy Moon because ivy has a difficult time dying, and can live on even after the host plant has died. Ivy, for them, was a reminder that everything goes on in some form or fashion: life, death, rebirth.
It’s the way of things.
Ivy is strong, evergreen, resilient. Though the Earth is wearing their nakedness in these days, Ivy reminds us that the wheel is turning, not dying. It is spinning, not stopping.
Today the church honors St. Philip the Evangelist, not to be confused with Philip the Apostle…or any of the other nine hundred Philips in the ancient world. Seriously, it’s like they were short on names…
Philip was one of the Greek speaking disciples chosen in Acts 6 to distribute food to the widows and the poor in Jerusalem. This was the first organized ministry we have recorded by the ancient church, and note that it wasn’t planning a Harvest Festival, Rally Day, or a Christmas Bazaar.
It was feeding people.
Philip would go on to preach the gospel in Samaria, where Simon the Magician was said to be converted by him. It’s worth explaining that “Magician” in the ancient world probably meant “Sorcerer,” which is pretty cool if you think about it.
St. Philip would be the one to break down barriers in the church when he encountered the Ethiopian eunuch on the road and helped him make sense of the scriptures. This important Ethiopian was a sexual minority, and I think it’s important on National Coming Out Day (here in the United States) to honor the fact that St. Philip in the First Century welcomed a sexual minority in the church through baptism.
If only the modern church would emulate St. Philip.
Well, actually, it’d be best if the modern church would emulate the Ethiopian, wrestle with the scriptures, and ask to be converted.
St. Philip was also known to have four daughters who were called prophets in the early church. They hosted St. Paul on his journeys, and it is thought that he ended his ministry life preaching and baptizing in Asia Minor.
St. Philip is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church, that the organized faith has a long tradition of welcoming and affirming humans from all walks of life. St. Philip, when entertaining the possibility of withholding the sacrament of baptism from the Ethiopian, received pushback from the traveler, saying, “There is water here. What is preventing you?”
What prevents us from extending the accepting grace of God to people?
The question remains.
-historical bits from Pfatteicher’s New Book of Festivals & Commemorations
-I love this icon, but cannot find who wrote it. If you can find it, please let me know.
Everything has an origin story. Even a few of them mixed together.
For the ancient Celts, Samhain was full of fire rituals intended to both purify land and scare off any trickster faeries and protect the farm from curses.
If you went out into the night on Samhain you’d tie a carved turnip on a string, aglow with a piece of charcoal inside. These glowing faces, called Jack-o’-lanterns referred to an old Christian tale about a blacksmith named Old Jack (sometimes called Stingy Jack) who, because he was so evil, was barred from both heaven and hell.
Instead his purgation was to roam the back roads on Hallowe’en night with nothing but a turnip lamp to light his shadowy way.
When Samhain was brought to the so-called New World (spoiler alert: not “new” at all), pumpkins were much more common than turnips, and so Irish settlers used those for lanterns instead.
Today the church honors Oskar Schindler, Dissident and Defender of Humanity.
Schindler was born in Czechia in 1908. In 1939 he joined the Nazi party, where he benefited from the Nationalist movement by being given government contracts and favors for his loyalty.
When Nazi Germany invaded Poland, Schindler took over two manufacturing companies in Krakow and made enormous profit off of cheap labor: Jews from the ghetto.
But then Schindler saw something that shook him and stirred his moral compass: he saw Jews being deported to killing camps. Despite the significant monetary loss and danger, Oskar transferred his Jewish workers from his factory to safer locations. Under the guise of a loyalist and business man, Oskar Schindler moved a number of Jews to his native land of Czechoslovakia, and this became his life’s priority.
Using the factory as cover for his work, Schindler created an internal system for moving Jewish people young and old to safe locations outside of occupied lands. In fact, there is a story that a train of nearly 1,000 Jewish people was inadvertently sent to Auschwitz rather than Czechoslovakia, and Schindler offered the Nazis diamonds and gold in exchange for the souls on board.
Schindler would ultimately save 1200 Jewish lives from the death camps, and today over seven thousand descendants of those he saved are living throughout the world. He was not perfect by any means, and had many personal flaws, but when he saw the inhumanity around him he defied his party, his government, and risked his life to save the suffering.
Schindler is a reminder to me, and should be for the whole church (and world), that the law is not always moral.
In fact, sometimes what is moral calls our legal system to account for itself on the stage of the world.
We must wrestle with our conscience when lives are being bruised and broken in the streets, and we must always side with those being bruised.
Always.
Let those with ears to hear, hear.
-historical notes taken from Claiborne and Wilson-Hartgrove’s Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals
Reluctant Xtian 