A Loving Mother: Alma Redemptoris Mater

Madonna of the Streets - Loving Mother
The Madonna of the Streets by Roberto Ferruzzi, 1897

 

Loving Mother of Our Redeemer

Who doesn’t want a loving mother?  Or, if we need to win the favor of a powerful person (a King, for instance), how could we pass up the opportunity of having his Mother put in a good word for us?  That’s the dual promise of the Alma Redemptoris Mater.

The first few words tell us that Mary is the Alma Mater of our Redeemer, Jesus.  The American English translation of the prayer that we see in the Liturgy of the Hours translates the word alma as “loving.”  It does mean that, but that’s not it’s first meaning.  The literal meaning is “nurturing” or “nourishing.”  That’s why the mouth, throat, etc. is called the “alimentary tract.”  It’s the passageway for nourishment to come into our body.

 

 Our Adopted Mother 

For that reason, the term alma mater itself used to mean a nursemaid, or wet nurse.  This is why we often call a school we attended our alma mater.  Just as a wet nurse nurses a little baby on behalf of the natural mother, our school nurtured us in loco parentis. Mary likewise is a nurturing mother to us, beyond our biological mothers.  As Pope St. John Paul II explains in his Encyclical Redemptoris Mater:

In accordance with the eternal plan of Providence, Mary’s divine motherhood is to be poured out upon the Church, as indicated by statements of Tradition, according to which Mary’s “motherhood” of the Church is the reflection and extension of her motherhood of the Son of God. (Redemptoris Mater, I.24)

What that means for us is that we can call on our adopted, spiritual mother to intercede for us with her son by birth, Jesus Christ.

 

 Falling and Struggling to Rise 

Because of her intercessory role she is the “accessible gate of Heaven” (pervia caeli Porta). Sadly, the American English translation lacks the word “accessible,” pervia. Next, we address Mary with a title familiar from another prayer, Stella Maris, “star of the sea,” our guiding star.

The image that follows is one for which I’ve always felt a strong affinity, the “falling people who struggle to rise again” (cadenti,/ Surgere qui curat populo). The Latin also nicely evokes the falling and rising of the sea (a fitting complement to Stella Maris). Cadenti, “falling,” ends one line on a solemn note, immediately followed by surgere, “to rise,” the word that begins the next.

We complete the first half of the prayer with our first plea for our Blessed Mother’s aid.  The Latin verb, succurrere, literally means “run up” to help.

 

“You who bore, to the wonderment of nature, your own Holy Creator.”

Nativity scene with the newborn Christ mural Franciscan Church Shepherd`s Fields near Bethlehem. Image shot 1990. Exact date unknown.

 To the Wonderment of Nature 

The second half of the prayer again reminds us that Mary’s importance comes through her connection to her son Jesus, again with some wonderful imagery:

 

tu quae genuisti,
Natura mirante, tuum sanctum Genitorem

 

“You who bore, to the wonderment of nature, your own holy Creator.”  The incarnation is so astounding that all of creation looks on in amazement.  I always picture the animals that are traditionally pictured around Jesus in the manger.  Now we know what they were thinking.

  Nature might well wonder at the next point as well.  Mary remained a “virgin before and after” (Virgo prius ac posterius), because Jesus wasn’t conceived in the usual way.  Rather, The Holy Spirit came upon her, and the power of the Most High overshadowed her (see Luke 1:35) at the time of the Annunciation.  The time, as the prayer puts it, “When she received that “Hail” from the mouth of Gabriel” (Gabrielis ab ore / Sumens illud Ave).

 

 We Are Not Unstained 

Our second petition comes after this reminder that the Blessed Mother remains unstained by sin. Here we acknowledge that we need her help, because we are not equally unstained: peccatorum miserere, “have pity on us sinners.”

     The Alma Redemptoris Mater is specifically associated with the seasons of Advent and Christmas, most likely because of the references to the Incarnation and the Annunciation in the final lines. We sing or recite it at the end of Compline, the closing liturgical prayer of the day, from the first Sunday of Advent through the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord on February 2nd.

Blessed Hermann - Loving Mother
Ceiling Fresco of Blessed Hermann from the Monastery at Schussenried.

 Blessed Hermann 

 

Tradition holds that it was composed by Blessed Hermann of Reichenau, a Benedictine monk who lived in the eleventh century. Blessed Hermann, also known as Hermann the Cripple, was well acquainted with suffering and difficulty. From the beginning of his life he suffered from what seems to have been amyotrophic lateral sclerosis or spinal muscular atrophy.  Hermann had great difficulty walking and talking. He also lost his sight before his early death at the age of 41.

He rose above his disabilities, however, to become an outstanding scholar in theology, mathematics, astronomy, and history.  After the loss of his vision he dedicated himself to composing prayers and hymns (the Alma Redemptoris Mater being a fine example).  Most importantly, like his fellow disability sufferer St. Servulus, he never let his sufferings dampen his joy in sharing Christ’s Gospel.

 

Please find the Latin and English Text of the Alma Redemptoris Mater below the video clip.

 

  Alma Redemptoris Mater

Alma Redemptoris Mater, quae pervia caeli
Porta manes, et stella maris, sucurre cadenti,
Surgere qui curat populo: tu quae genuisti,
Natura mirante, tuum sanctum Genitorem,
Virgo prius ac posterius, Gabrielis ab ore
Sumens illud Ave, peccatorum miserere.

 

 

 Loving Mother of the Redeemer

 Loving mother of the Redeemer,
gate of heaven, star of the sea,
assist your people who have fallen yet strive to rise again,
To the wonderment of nature you bore your Creator,
yet remained a virgin after as before,
You who received Gabriel’s joyful greeting,
have pity on us poor sinners.

 

 

 

The Lorica of St. Patrick Is As Timely As Ever

The Lorica of St. Patrick

St. Patrick Window
                    Window in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Armagh

Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

As Timely As Ever:

Pious Tradition v. The “Experts”


   Pious tradition attributes authorship of the prayer above, known as “The Lorica (or “Breastplate”) of St. Patrick”, to the Apostle of Ireland himself.  As is the case with the beloved “Prayer of St. Francis”, experts tell us the eponymous Saint is most likely not the real author.  I myself trust Pious Tradition more than The Experts any day, but for our purposes here we’ll just say that it could have been written by St. Patrick.  In any case, while the prayer as you see it above is the most well-known version, it is really only a part of a much longer composition (I’ve put the full text at the bottom of this post).  At one time this magnificent prayer, in its complete form, was a part of my morning devotions every day.
     “The Breastplate of St. Patrick” is, in fact, written as a morning prayer, and more: it is a statement of faith, a brief but comprehensive catechesis, and a call for Divine help against the dangers that beset us from both earthly and spiritual sources.  Those things are as necessary today as they were in 5th century Ireland, and St. Patrick’s prayer is a powerful and inspiring way to start our daily journey.

“I Arise Today . . .”

     The complete “Breastplate” opens with “I arise today/Through a mighty strength, the invocation of Trinity . . .” St. Patrick is famous for his emphasis on the Trinity, reportedly using the tree-leafed shamrock to illustrate the doctrine (as memorialized in the present-day stained glass window from the cathedral in Armagh, his primatial see).  Here, he also emphasizes “the Oneness of the Creator of creation.”  In converting a pagan people, Patrick needed to impress upon them that there was indeed only one God, as distinct from their pagan pantheon, although expressed in three Persons.  The Triune God is also unlike their familiar gods in that He alone is the universal Creator, as opposed to pagan deities who were more powerful than mortal men, but still finite and fallible beings. In our own day we also need to be reminded that God is Love (1 John 4:8), and Love reaches its perfection in a union of persons, but also that God the Creator is master of all the blind forces of nature with which we wrestle.

                    St. Patrick Lighting the Paschal Fire on the Hill of Slane, 433, by Vincenzo Waldre, 1792


     The next “I arise today . . .” is followed by a brief Christology: incarnation, crucifixion, resurrection and descent to the Dead. We, no less than our newly-christened forefathers did, need to understand exactly Who and What is the God that we follow.
     A third “I arise today . . . .” is followed by a litany of various Angels, Patriarchs, Prophets, and Saints, which re-establishes for us that our devotion to the Person of Jesus Christ also connects us to all the lesser persons, living and dead, in the Communion of Saints.
     Next, “I arise today/Through strength of heaven,/the light of the sun . . .” and so on, through a list of natural forces which, St. Patrick here reminds us, come below us in the order of creation, and are so much the more under God’s power (how often we moderns forget both of these truths!).

God’s Providential Care


     After a fifth “I arise today . . .” we see a litany of the various manifestations of God’s Providential care:

     God’s strength to pilot me,
     God’s might to uphold me,
     God’s wisdom to guide me . . .

And so on. At the end of this section we shift our focus to the various evils that beset us:

     God’s host to save me
     From snares of devils,
     From temptation of vices,
     From everyone who shall wish me ill,
     Afar and near.

    In the next section we call for God’s help against these evils, which are laid out in more detail:

     I summon today
     All these powers between me and those evils,
     Against every cruel and merciless power
     That may oppose my body and soul,
     Against incantations of false prophets,
     Against black laws of pagandom,
     Against false laws of heretics,
     Against craft of idolatry,
     Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
     Against every knowledge that corrupts man’s body and soul.
     Christ shield me today
     Against poison, against burning,
     Against drowning, against wounding,
     So that there may come to me
     an abundance of reward.

Notice the priority given to spiritual evils, which Christians have traditionally understood to be far more serious dangers than the physical hazards at the end of the passage. Today we often ignore or even deride these deadly perils (as I discuss in my post “For Such a Time as This: Powers, Principalities & The Culture Wars“).

The Lorica


     At this point we come to the famous passage quoted at the top of this post (Christ with me,Christ before me, Christ behind me . . .), from which the prayer takes its name. Here we call upon Christ to surround us, to “armor” us, with his protection.
     Finally, the prayer ends by repeating the invocation with which it starts:

     I arise today,
     Through a mighty strength,
     The invocation of the Trinity,
     Through belief in the Threeness,
     Through confession of the Oneness
     Of the Creator of creation.


     As I read through this prayer, which was composed for ancient pagans who knew nothing of Christianity, I am struck by how well it is suited to our current post-Christian, neo-pagan culture. We shouldn’t kid ourselves.  Even with all the amazing gadgetry that we’ve concocted for ourselves over the centuries, we’re still subject to the same basic temptations and hazards that have always haunted humanity. We still could use the breastplate of Christ.

(See also “St. Patrick, Julius Caesar, and Slavery to Sin“)

Here’s a beautiful setting for St. Patrick’s prayer by contemporary composer Ola Gjeilo:

The Breastplate of St. Patrick:

I arise today

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
of the Creator of creation.

I arise today
Through the strength of Christ’s birth with His baptism,
Through the strength of His crucifixion with His burial,
Through the strength of His resurrection with His ascension,
Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.

I arise today
Through the strength of the love of cherubim,
In the obedience of angels, In the service of archangels,
In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of patriarchs,
In the predictions of prophets,
In the preaching of apostles, In the faith of confessors,
In the innocence of holy virgins,
In the deeds of righteous men.

I arise today through
The strength of heaven,
The light of the sun,
The radiance of the moon,
The splendor of fire,
The speed of lightning,
The swiftness of wind,
The depth of the sea,
The stability of the earth,
The firmness of rock.

I arise today through
God’s strength to pilot me,
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me,
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak for me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s shield to protect me,
God’s host to save me
From snares of devils,
From temptation of vices,
From everyone who shall wish me ill,
afar and near.

God’s Providence

I summon today
All these powers between me and those evils,
Against every cruel and merciless power
that may oppose my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom,
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man’s body and soul.

The Lorica

Christ shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that there may come to me
an abundance of reward.

Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
of the Creator of creation.

St. Patrick baptizing Irish king

The Last Chance Before Lent: Haydn’s Te Deum

The Holy Trinity, by Francesco Cairo, 1650

     Lent is approaching fast: Ash Wednesday is just over a week away.  This is one of our last chances to get in a joyful sacred composition by our old friend Joseph Haydn before the penitential season begins.

     Today’s selection is a setting for the ancient prayer Te Deum (see my discussion of the prayer itself below the video).  This is the third different setting of the Te Deum I’ve posted on this site.  Last year I shared a very recent composition (as in, premiered in December 2019) by Pedro Camacho.  I also posted a version by Domenico Scarlatti that was first performed in the 1720s.

     Haydn’s magnificent setting was probably composed in 1799, and had its public premier in 1800.  Haydn wrote the piece at the request of the Empress Maria Theresa, for which reason it is known as (what else?) The Te Deum for the Empress Marie Therese. The Aylesbury Choral Society has published a brief but very informative explanation of this wonderful sacred composition HERE.    I’m really not sure who is performing the piece in the video below, other than they’re boy singers (sängerknaben), along with somebody named Diego. Whoever they are, they do a fine job.  Take a few minutes to enjoy their performance of a great composer’s masterful musical rendition of a beautiful ancient payer:

 

     The Te Deum is an ancient Christian prayer.  Its title comes from its first line in Latin: Te Deum Laudamus, “We praise you, God.”  For many centuries Christians would sing the Te Deum as a song of celebration and thanks to the Lord.  This was true not only after events of clearly religious significance, such as the Christian victory over the Muslim Turks in the Battle of Lepanto in 1572, but on the occasion of more worldly triumphs as well, in recognition that all good things are a gift from God.  For instance, the English King Henry V is reputed to have ordered his army to sing the hymn after their victory over the French at Agincourt in 1415, an event William Shakespeare includes in his play Henry V.

    While nowhere near as old as the psalms, the Te Deum is still a very ancient prayer, having been composed in the 3rd or 4th century.  Its authorship is unknown, but has been attributed to St. Ambrose and/or St. Augustine, St. Nicetas of Remesiana, or St. Hillary of Poitiers. It has been set to music many times over the centuries.

Te Deum:

Te Deum laudámus: te Dominum confitémur.
Te ætérnum Patrem omnis terra venerátur.
Tibi omnes Angeli; tibi cæli et univérsae potestátes.
Tibi Chérubim et Séraphim incessábili voce proclámant:

Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dóminus Deus Sábaoth. Pleni sunt cæli et terra majestátis glóriæ tuæ.
Te gloriósus Apostolórum chorus;
Te Prophetárum laudábilis númerus;
Te Mártyrum candidátus laudat exércitus.
Te per orbem terrárum sancta confitétur Ecclésia: Patrem imménsæ majestátis;
Venerándum tuum verum
et únicum Fílium;
Sanctum quoque Paráclitum Spíritum.
Tu Rex glóriæ, Christe.
Tu Patris sempitérnus es Fílius.
Tu ad liberándum susceptúrus hóminem,
non horruísti Vírginis úterum.
Tu, devícto mortis acúleo, aperuísti credéntibus regna cælórum.
Tu ad déxteram Dei sedes, in glória Patris.
Judex créderis esse ventúrus.
Te ergo quǽsumus, tuis fámulis súbveni,    
quos pretióso sánguine redemísti.
Ætérna fac cum sanctis tuis in glória
numerári.
Salvum fac pópulum tuum, Dómine,
et bénedic hæreditáti tuæ.
Et rege eos, et extólle illos usque in ætérnum.
Per síngulos dies benedícimus te.
Et laudámus nomen tuum in sǽculum, et in sǽculum sǽculi.
Dignáre, Dómine, die isto sine peccáto nos custodíre.
Miserére nostri, Dómine, miserére nostri.
Fiat misericórdia tua, Dómine, super nos, quemádmodum sperávimus in te.
In te, Dómine, sperávi: non confúndar in ætérnum.

You are God: we praise you;
You are the Lord: we acclaim you;
You are the eternal Father:
All creation worships you.
To you all angels, all the powers of heaven,
Cherubim and Seraphim, sing in endless praise:
Holy, holy, holy, Lord, God of power and might,
heaven and earth are full of your glory.The glorious company of apostles praise you.
The noble fellowship of prophets praise you.
The white-robed army of martyrs praise you.
Throughout the world the holy Church acclaims you:
Father, of majesty unbounded,your true and only Son, worthy of all worship,
and the Holy Spirit, advocate and guide.
You, Christ, are the King of glory,
the eternal Son of the Father.
When you became man to set us free
you did not spurn the Virgin’s womb.
You overcame the sting of death,
and opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers.
You are seated at God’s right hand in glory.
We believe that you will come, and be our judge.
Come then, Lord, and help your people,
bought with the price of your own blood,
and bring us with your saints to glory everlasting.
Save your people, Lord, and bless your inheritance.— Govern and uphold them now and always.
Day by day we bless you.
— We praise your name for ever.
Keep us today, Lord, from all sin.
— Have mercy on us, Lord, have mercy.
Lord, show us your love and mercy,
— for we have put our trust in you.In you, Lord, is our hope:
— And we shall never hope in vain.

 

 

 

  

Music for the Easter Season: Pedro Camacho’s Te Deum

“St. Ambrose” by Francisco Goya, 1799

    The Te Deum is an ancient Christian hymn composed in the 3rd or 4th century.  It takes its name from its opening line in Latin, Te Deum laudamus (“We Praise You God”). Throughout the ages it has been sung in thanksgiving or celebration on occasions both religious and secular. Today we pray it (or sing it) in the Liturgy of the Hours at the end of the Office of Readings on Sundays outside of Lent and on solemnities. Its authorship has sometimes been attributed to St. Ambrose and/or St. Augustine, or sometimes St. Nicetas of Remesiana, although it is likely older than any of these suggested authors. I’ve posted the English translation of the hymn and a brief commentary below the clip for those who are interested.

     The Te Deum has been set to music countless times over the centuries.  The clip below features the Classical Madeira orchestra and Madeira Chamber Choir performing what is probably the most recent of these compositions, by the Portuguese composer Pedro Camacho.  Camacho’s setting was first performed in public less than a year and a half ago, in December 2019. Here’s an opportunity to celebrate the Resurrection of Our Lord by listening to a beautiful combination of new music and a timeless prayer of praise.

TE DEUM

You are God: we praise you;

You are the Lord: we acclaim you;

You are the eternal Father:

All creation worships you.

To you all angels, all the powers of heaven,

Cherubim and Seraphim, sing in endless praise:

Holy, holy, holy, Lord, God of power and might,

heaven and earth are full of your glory.

The glorious company of apostles praise you.

The noble fellowship of prophets praise you.

The white-robed army of martyrs praise you.

Throughout the world the holy Church acclaims you:

Father, of majesty unbounded,

your true and only Son, worthy of all worship,

and the Holy Spirit, advocate and guide.

You, Christ, are the King of glory,

the eternal Son of the Father.

When you became man to set us free

you did not spurn the Virgin’s womb.

You overcame the sting of death,

and opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers.

You are seated at God’s right hand in glory.

We believe that you will come, and be our judge.

Come then, Lord, and help your people,

bought with the price of your own blood,

and bring us with your saints

to glory everlasting.

Save your people, Lord, and bless your inheritance.

— Govern and uphold them now and always.

Day by day we bless you.

— We praise your name for ever.

Keep us today, Lord, from all sin.

— Have mercy on us, Lord, have mercy.

Lord, show us your love and mercy,

— for we have put our trust in you.

In you, Lord, is our hope:

— And we shall never hope in vain.

“The Last Judgment”, by Fra Angelico c. 1450

Commentary on Te Deum

The Te Deum is one of those prayers that every Christian should know. In a relatively few lines it combines some of the spirit (and language) of the psalms of ancient Israel with a highly condensed Christian Creed, all in a form that has been in continual use for most of the history of the Church.

         While nowhere near as old as the psalms, some of which were written a thousand years before the time of Christ, the Te Deum is still very ancient, having been composed in the 3rd or 4th century.  And although it’s not one of them, the Te Deum shows a strong spiritual kinship with the psalms.  There are clear echoes of the venerable Hebrew hymns in the first stanza, in fact, which like Psalms 67 and 100 calls us to joyfully praise our Creator, and invites “all creation” to join in our worship.  

         The next three stanzas give us a kind of spiritual cosmology, specifying in descending sequence the three orders of creatures who participate in this praise.  First the Angels, the highest order of created beings, “who always see the face” of the Father in Heaven, as our Lord put it (Matthew 18:10). The last two lines of the stanza come directly from the Prophet Isaiah’s vision of Heaven, where he sees angels before God’s throne and “And one called to another and said: ‘Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.’” (Isaiah 6:3)

         Next we see the Church Triumphant.  These are holy men and women who went before us and are now experiencing the beatific vision: the Apostles, men chosen by Jesus Christ himself to be his companions and successors; the prophets, who were chosen as God’s representatives to his Chosen People; the Christian Martyrs who witnessed to their Lord with their lives.

         The fourth stanza brings us to the Church Militant, believers living today who unite themselves with the angels and saints in praising their Creator.  I’m not sure how many times I sang or recited this prayer before it really struck me that I wasn’t praying on my own, I was joining all the Hosts of Heaven through eternity in their endless Liturgy of Praise.  It’s an exhilarating realization, but humbling at the same time.

         At this point the prayer begins to turn our attention to the God whom we are all worshiping. Lines 13 through 24 bring us through a brief but beautifully comprehensive recap of the main points of Christian doctrine.  It reads something like a concentrated version of the Nicene Creed:

  • Lines 14-16 name the three Persons of the Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit
  • Lines 17-20 identify Christ as “King” and “Eternal Son of the Father”, but also refer to his mission of salvation and his Incarnation as Man
  • Lines 21-24 succinctly present the Death and Resurrection of Jesus, the opening of Heaven, and the Second Coming

Lines 23-28, which seem to have originally closed the prayer, include a call for God’s assistance, a reminder of his sacrifice for our salvation, and a prayerful request that we might join our holy forebears before His throne.

         The final section of the Te Deum consists of a series of petitions that were added at some point over the centuries, and have long since become a permanent part of the prayer. These appear to have been draw from the language of the psalms.  Alternating praise with calls for His help and mercy, they bring the prayer to a fitting close.

         I have always appreciated the way the Te Deum does so much so succinctly. In just a few lines we are reminded of the sweep of Salvation History, the Communion of Saints, the Doctrine of the Trinity, the Mission of Jesus Christ from Bethlehem to the New Jerusalem, and all in the form of a joyful song of praise to our God.

         But that’s not all.  For many centuries Christians would sing the Te Deum as a song of celebration and thanks to God.  This was true not only after events of clearly religious significance, such as the Christian victory over the Muslim Turks in the Battle of Lepanto in 1572, but on the occasion of more worldly triumphs as well, in recognition that all good things are a gift from God.  For instance, the English King Henry V is reputed to have ordered his army to sing the hymn after their victory over the French at Agincourt in 1415, an event William Shakespeare includes in his play Henry V:

KING HENRY V:

Come, go we in procession to the village.

And be it death proclaimed through our host

To boast of this or take the praise from God

Which is his only.

FLUELLEN:

Is it not lawful, an please your majesty, to tell

how many is killed?

KING HENRY V:

Yes, captain; but with this acknowledgement,

That God fought for us.

FLUELLEN:

Yes, my conscience, he did us great good.

KING HENRY V:

Do we all holy rites;

Let there be sung ‘Non nobis’ and ‘Te Deum;’The dead with charity enclosed in clay . . . (Henry V, Act IV, sc. 8)

The Te Deum, then, like the Psalms, is a concrete connection to the experiences of our predecessors, in this case in a specifically Christian context.

From Kenneth Branagh’s 1989 film version of Henry V

The Crisis of Fatherhood and the Litany of St. Joseph

     How odd St. Joseph, the human father of Jesus, must look to so many of us today.  We live in an age that distrusts the traditional features of fatherhood, and even denigrates them as “toxic masculinity.”  Small wonder that fatherhood itself is in steep decline.  According to the National Fatherhood Initiative, “19.7 million children in America—more than one in four—live without their biological dad in the home.” (“The Father Absence Crisis in America“)  That unprecedented figure is growing all the time, in spite of the fact that the decline of fatherhood has such devastating and clearly documented consequences: a four times greater likelihood of living in poverty; a greater likelihood of emotional and behavioral problems, infant mortality, crime and imprisonment, teen pregnancy, drug abuse, obesity, dropping out of school, and all the other problems that flow from those circumstances (see the article linked above for citations).

      As horrific as those consequences are, Christians know that there’s something even worse. The Church has always taught us that human fatherhood is merely a reflection: as Jesus himself puts it, “call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven.” (Matthew 23:9) Human fathers are merely stewards, and our authority is not our own, nor do we exercise if for our own sake.  Granted, many of us abuse the authority God has entrusted to us, and none of us exercise it perfectly, but to reject fatherhood itself is to reject God.  It should come as no surprise that the decline of fatherhood has gone hand-in-hand with a decline in faith.  It’s hard to overstate the gravity of this last point. After all, as tragic as all the problems cited above are, they are temporary, we don’t take them with us when we leave this world.  If we lose our connection to God, however, the loss can be eternal.

“. . . call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven.” (Matthew 23:9)

“The Vision of Ezekial” by Raphael, (1518)*

   

  The Crisis of Fatherhood points us in the direction of St. Joseph, the pinnacle of human fatherhood.   We can certainly use his help, now more than ever. One of the best ways to build our relationship with him is by praying the Litany of St. Joseph, a prayer given formal approval by Pope Pius X at the dawning of the twentieth century. It’s a prayer particularly suited to the strange and troubling times in which we live.

     Something St. Joseph’s Litany has in common with other especially powerful prayers such as the Our Father is that God uses the very words that we’re addressing to him to speak to us in return. Let’s look at how that works in the Our Father, the prayer Jesus taught his Apostles when they asked him how they should pray (Matthew 6:9-15 & Luke 11:2-4). In the first part, from “Our Father ” through “as it is in Heaven,” the words tell us something of the nature of our relationship to God: he is our Father, but at the same time above and beyond us, the final authority both in the eternal world and in this one.  Next, as we pray for our sustenance and the forgiveness of our sins, our words remind us that we are obligated to show the same mercy to others in turn: “as we forgive those who trespass against us.”  Finally, we acknowledge our attachment to sin (“lead us not into temptation”), and our reliance on God’s Grace in resisting it (“deliver us from evil”).

     We see something similar at work in the Litany of St. Joseph (I’ve posted the prayer in its entirety below if you want to refer to it).  We honor Joseph as the human father of God, but the litany that bears his name begins instead with an invocation to the Trinitarian God:

Lord, have mercy on us. Christ, have mercy on us. Lord, have mercy on us. Christ, hear us. Christ,

graciously hear us.

God the Father of Heaven, have mercy on us.

God, the Holy Ghost,

Holy Trinity, One God, have mercy on us.

    The fact that the prayer starts with our reliance on God and not with St. Joseph himself is a reminder that Joseph’s paternal authority, as we noted above, belongs not to himself but to Our Father in Heaven.

     The next invocation is, again, directed toward someone other than St. Joseph:  “Holy Mary, pray for us.” Joseph’s wife also takes precedence! This brings to mind the following passage from St. Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians: “Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for her” (Ephesians 5:25).  The purpose of our fatherhood is not to please ourselves, but to “give ourselves up” to our wives and families, as Jesus does for the Church, and just as Joseph did for Mary and Jesus.

     It’s only at this point that we address Joseph himself, first recalling his lineage (“Scion of David”), his role in Salvation History (“Spouse of the Mother of God . . . Foster-father of the Son of God”) and a long list of his virtues and attributes, all of which are given to him very explicitly for the purpose of protecting and serving (Head of the Holy Family . . . Most Chaste . . . Pillar of Families . . . Terror of Demons . . .).

        Then, after asking St. Joseph to pray for us, we turn our attention back to Christ under a title that highlights his sacrificial role, “Lamb of God”:

     Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, spare us, O Lord.

     Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, O Lord.

     Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.

     Here the prayer reminds us that, as Christ sacrificed himself for us, and St. Joseph sacrificed himself for his wife and child, we fathers are also called to sacrifice ourselves on behalf of our own families.

“The Flight into Egypt” by Jacopo Bassano (1544)

     The last thing we see before the closing prayer of the litany is this verse and response:

     V. He made him lord over his house,

     R. And the ruler of all his possessions.

     This is an exact quote from Psalm 105:21, which itself refers back to Genesis 39:5: “So Joseph found favor in his sight and attended him, and he made him overseer of his house and put him in charge of all that he had.” This is not a reference to St. Joseph father of Jesus, who would not be born until centuries after these verses were written. These verses refer to Joseph son of Jacob, who was brought as a slave to Egypt. As it happens, there are many compelling connections between the two Josephs; the earlier Joseph is in fact what we call a type, a precursor of the Father of Jesus. The connection that most concerns us here is that Joseph the foreign-born slave is granted authority by the King of Egypt over his royal household, just as centuries later Joseph of Bethlehem is granted authority by the King of All Creation over his Holy Family.

     Our role as fathers today (and this includes all men, because all men are called to exercise Fatherhood in some way, even if we don’t preside over a household with children) follows the same pattern. Our family here on Earth is not really our own, it has been put temporarily under our care by the King of Kings (needless to say, we will be answerable to him for how we carry out the charge). As Catholic men we are also responsible (as is St. Joseph) for the protection of his larger family, the Church.

     It has become increasingly difficult to be just, chaste, prudent, etc., in a world where fatherhood has become more and more debased, and men are encouraged to behave like overgrown adolescents, or randy satyrs. Our society simply does not support fathers, and in fact seeks to undermine fatherhood itself. That’s why the closing prayer of the Litany of St. Joseph is so urgently suited to the needs of our times:

O God, who in Thine ineffable providence didst vouchsafe to choose blessed Joseph to be the spouse

of Thy most holy Mother: grant, we beseech Thee, that we may have him for an intercessor in heaven,

whom we venerate as our protector on earth. Who livest and reignest world without end, Amen.

I don’t post country music clips very often, but the song below by Randy Travis very powerfully connects the story of Joseph to the modern crisis of fatherhood. The Litany of St. Joseph is posted beneath the clip.

Litany of St. Joseph

Lord, have mercy on us. Christ, have mercy on us. Lord, have mercy on us. Christ, hear us. Christ,

graciously hear us.

God the Father of Heaven, have mercy on us.

God, the Holy Ghost,

Holy Trinity, One God, have mercy on us.

Holy Mary, pray for us.

Saint Joseph,

Illustrious Scion of David,

Light of Patriarchs,

Spouse of the Mother of God,

Chaste guardian of the Virgin,

Foster-father of the Son of God,

Watchful defender of Christ,

Head of the Holy Family,

Joseph most just,

Joseph most chaste,

Joseph most prudent,

Joseph most valiant,

Joseph most obedient,

Joseph most faithful,

Mirror of patience,

Lover of poverty,

Model of workmen,

Glory of home life,

Guardian of virgins,

Pillar of families,

Solace of the afflicted,

Hope of the sick,

Patron of the dying,

Terror of demons,

Protector of Holy Church, pray for us.

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, spare us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.

V. He made him lord over his house,

R. And the ruler of all his possessions.

Let us pray.

O God, who in Thine ineffable providence didst vouchsafe to choose blessed Joseph to be the spouse

of Thy most holy Mother: grant, we beseech Thee, that we may have him for an intercessor in heaven,

whom we venerate as our protector on earth. Who livest and reignest world without end, Amen.

*By Raphael – Own work, J1m1mayers, 1 January 1518, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=63865341