A Rosary A Day

Rosary

Michelle here.

Confession time: I am not a fan of the rosary.

Well, let me be a bit more clear: I appreciate the wonderful history and heritage attached to the rosary; I was impressed and grateful when John Paul II gave Catholics the luminous mysteries of the rosary (I even wrote an article with a sidebar on that event); I admire those who are have a devotion to the rosary. But I don’t. It’s always been a difficult prayer for me to pray. When I use my rosary beads, I usually use them to say the Divine Mercy chaplet, a prayer devotion that I personally prefer.

So, you can imagine my horror when a friend suggested that I pray a 54-day novena, a novena that entails saying five decades of the rosary for 54 days in a row! This friend is a spiritual mentor, so I didn’t reject her suggestion out of hand. I thought about it.

Then I said no.

My friend, like a good spiritual mentor should be, was perfectly fine with that. Then she had a brainstorm. She knew of a particular intention for which I had been praying for years. She suggested that I offer up some of the trials I had experienced over this past year for that particular intention to be fulfilled. Sounded like a great idea. She never even mentioned the 54-day novena.

It did occur to me though that a 54-day novena would be a significant and, for me, sacrificial, means by which I could offer up those trials for that intention. I sighed and told both my friend and the Blessed Mother that they had won. I’d do the 54-day novena.

I’ve been doing it for the few weeks and have about twenty days left. The reason I tell this story to you is because of a side benefit that praying this novena has had for me.

At first I prayed the novena while sitting on my couch in typical couch-potato style. Then I had a brainstorm.

I had been wanting to establish a walking routine for some time now, but for various reasons this had proven a fruitless effort. Then I realized that the rosary usually takes me about twenty minutes to pray. If I walked while I prayed the rosary, I would be walking twenty minutes per day. Not exactly an Iron Woman regimen, but it would be a good place for me to start.

You might think that a Couch Potato like me would have difficulty doing the whole rosary before needing a break. The first night I only got through three decades before needing to sit down, but after that I could do all five. And so, for twenty minutes per night I’ve been pacing my living-room floor praying the rosary in this 54-day novena.

At this rate, and assuming I maintain my Rosary A Day after the novena is finished, I expect to reach China sometime in the next century.

NOTE: Any and all prayers you want to add to mine for my special intention would be greatly appreciated.

St. Blase Questions

A reader writes:

Every year, our pastor offers the blessing of throats on the feast of St. Blaise.  The folks at Mass line up in two rows, just like for communion, and the priest gives blessings on one side while a woman from the congregation gives blessings on the other side.

My understanding of canon 1169 is that only ordained persons can give blessings.  (Oh, I should have mentioned that the woman in question is not a priest or a deacon.)  So I worry that the non-priest blessing throats is in fact simulating a sacred thing, and that there is some kind of sacriledge involved.

Let’s start with canon 1169, since you mention it. Here ’tis:

Can.  1169 §1. Those marked with the episcopal character and presbyters permitted by law or legitimate grant can perform consecrations and dedications validly.

§2. Any presbyter can impart blessings except those reserved to the Roman Pontiff or bishops.

§3. A deacon can impart only those blessings expressly permitted by law.

If that’s all the law said then your conclusion that only a cleric can give sacramentals like the St. Blase blessing would be arguable, but that’s not all that the law says. There is also canon 1168:

Can.  1168 The minister of sacramentals is a cleric
who has been provided with the requisite power. According to the norm of the
liturgical books and to the judgment of the local ordinary lay persons who
possess the appropriate qualities can also administer some sacramentals.

So the question is: Is the St. Blase blessing one that the liturgical books empower lay people to give?

Yes.

The Book of Blessings provides the following:

1626 The blessing of throats may be given by a priest, deacon, or a lay minister who follows the rites and prayers designated for a lay minister. If the blessing is conferred during Mass, the blessing follows the homily and general intercessions, or, for pastoral reasons, the prayer of blessing may take the place of the final blessing of the Mass. When the blessing is given outside Mass, it is preceded by a brief celebration of the word of God. If the blessing is to be celebrated at Morning Prayer or Evening Prayer, it is given after the reading and responsory (and homily) and before the gospel canticle.

While we at it, let’s clear up a few other potential worries that folks might have based on what they see and hear at Mass today regarding the St. Blase blessing.

1627 The blessing may be given by touching the throat of each person with two candles blessed on the feast of the Presentation of the Lord (February 2) and which have been joined together in the form of a cross.

1628 If, for pastoral reasons, each individual cannot be blessed in the manner described in no. 1627, for example when great numbers are gathered for the blessing or when thememorial of Saint Blase occurs on a Sunday, a priest or deacon may give the blessing to all assembled by extending hands, without the crossed candles, over the people while saying the prayer of blessing. A lay minister says the prayer proper to lay ministers without making the sign of the cross.

1629 The blessing may also be given to the sick or the elderly in their homes when they cannot attend the parish celebration.

1633 . . . During trhe blessing suitable psalms or other suitable songs may be sung.

Hope this helps!

The Framework Interpretation

The Framework Interpretation holds that the six days of creation are not intended to be taken literally as a chronology of how God made the world. That’s what they seem to be on the surface, but there are clues in the text–such as the creation of the sun three days after the day/night cycle has been established–that tell us that this is not meant to be taken literally.

The Framework Interpretation holds that Genesis 1 tells us what God did without attempting to tell us in a literal fashion when God did it. Instead, the facts of creation have been fitted into the framework of a single Hebrew week. (The week being a characteristic measure of time among the Hebrews; prior ancient cultures didn’t have weeks.)

The Fourth Day sun problem that other interpretations have (and have typically solved by introducing things the text does not mention, like atmospheric conditions that clear up, allowing the sun to be seen, or days that overlap each other chronologically) is of itself significant evidence for the Framework Interpretation.

But the interpretation could be strengthened if we could sketch out the specific way in which the events of creation have been fitted into a framework–in other words, if we could point to the framework itself. It’s a fair question, after all: "If this isn’t organized chronologically, how is it organized?"

A careful reading of the text reveals this, and we can see not just that the author has arranged things out of chronological order in a way detectable to the ancients, we can see specifically how he has organized them. We know what his organizational criteria were.

For centuries it has been recognized that the six days of creation are divided into two sets of three. In the first set, God divides one thing from another: He divides the light and the darkness on Day One (giving rise to day and night), he divides the waters above from the waters below on Day Two (giving rise to the sky and the sea), and he divides the waters below from each other (giving rise to the dry land) on Day Three. Classically, this is known as the work of division or distinction.

In the second three days, God goes back over the realms he produced in the first three days by division and then populates or "adorns" them. On Day Four he populates the day and the night with the sun, moon, and stars. On Day Five he populates the sky and sea with the birds and the fish. And on Day Six he populates the land (between the divided waters) with the animals and man. Classically, this is known as the work of adornment.

That this two-fold movement represents the ordering principle of Genesis 1 also is reflected at the beginning and end of the narrative. At the beginning we are told that "the earth was without form and void" (Gen. 1:2). The work of distinction cures the "without form" problem, and the work of adornment cures the "void" (empty) problem. Likewise, at the end of the narrative we are told "the heavens and the earth were finished [i.e., by distinction], and all the host of them [i.e., by adornment]" (2:1).

People have recognized for centuries that these are the ordering principles at work in Genesis 1. This is not something modern Bible scholars came up with (e.g., see Aquinas, ST I:74:1).

I don’t fault anyone who has a different view of the text (particularly the Ordinary Day Interpretation), but this one seems to me to be the most plausible view if you give the text a careful reading.

The dislocation of the creation of the sun thus tells us that the text is using a non-chronological ordering, and the recognition of the two phases of creation (distinction and adornment) proceeding through the same three spheres (day & night > sky & sea > dry land) tells us what ordering system is being used.

And none of this is predicated on modern science. It was all there "in the beginning."

The Ordinary Day Interpretation

The Ordinary Day Interpretation of Genesis 1 holds that the six days of creation are six 24-hour days that followed each other consecutively (not overlapping, with no gaps), so that God created the world and had a day left over to rest in the space of an ordinary week.

This is the most plausible interpretation of the text if you give it a casual reading, which is why it has been the overwhelmingly most popular interpretation throughout Church history (and before). Most folks in history have read the text in a casual manner (or, at least, a manner that didn’t give full weight to the points that I’ll get into), and if you do that then this seems to be the obvious interpretation of the text.

I have a lot of respect for this interpretation–much more respect than I do for the others we’ve considered–because it does so much justice to the different aspects of Genesis 1.

I think that there is an interpretation that is even more plausible if you give the text a careful reading, but I want to give the Ordinary Day Interpretation its dues. It’s an interpretation that a reasonable person can come to upon reading the text–as evidence by the fact that so many reasonable people have done so throughout history. It’s more plausible by leaps and bounds than the others we have considered. And I would most definitely hold this view of the text if I didn’t think there was a more plausible one.

But I think there is. The first big clue to that is the fact that the day/night cycle is established on Day One but the sun isn’t created until Day Four. As I mentioned, the ancients knew just as well as we do that it’s the light of the sun that causes it to be day and the absence of the sun that causes it to be night. Origen and Augustine even commented on the fact that the creation of the sun is dislocated from the creation of the day/night cycle.

Now: We know from other passages in Scripture that the biblical authors didn’t always record things in chronological order, but sometimes recorded them according to other criteria, and the dislocation of the creation of the sun and the day/night cycle is a big clue that that’s what we’re looking at here.

It’s the author’s way of telegraphing to the audience the fact that this is a non-chronological sequence and that we need to look more deeply at the text to figure out what’s going on.

That leads to the final and–I think–most plausible interpretation of the text on strictly literary grounds.

The Gap Interpretation

The Gap Interpretation of Genesis 1 holds that the timeline offered to us in Genesis 1 is meant to be taken literally and sequentially but that there are gaps in it.

One version of the theory holds that there is a gap between Genesis 1:1 and the creation of light in 1:3. As this is usually articulated, God first created the world and then it fell into a state of disrepair somehow (possibly by the fall of the angels) so that it became "formless and void" and God then set about a cosmic renovation project, which is what the six days record.

Advocates of this view appeal to certain words in the Hebrew of Genesis 1 that maybe could be translated in a way that would allow for this theory (but not require it) and to certain other passages in the Old Testament whose support for this theory is highly contestible.

These are just scraps though, not solid evidence for the theory.

The Gap Interpretation simply does not leap off the page as a plausible interpretation when you read this text. I am not aware of anyone in the ancient world who proposed it, and it has every appearance of being a desperate expedient to square Genesis 1 with the findings of modern science rather than a plausible interpretation of the text in its own right.

(It’s also not clear how well it accomplishes its intended task, since modern science does not view the current world order as having been re-established/created in a period of six days following a cataclysm of some kind. To try to deal with this problem, some have suggested additional gaps between the six days, so that they represent six individual days–scattered throughout billions of years–on which God did things, but this also is in no way suggested by the text.)

We’ve also still got the Fourth Day sun problem. (And we may have the land-animals-before-birds problem if you go for a gap of millions of years between Day Five and Day Six.)

While one could postulate that there was a space of time before God initiated the day/night cycle on Day One without doing unjust violence to the text, positing that there was a prior creation that deteriorated and that Genesis 1 is simply the story of how THIS PHASE of cosmic history got started is NOT a plausible reading.

The reason is that it mistakes the primary function of the Genesis 1 narrative. It’s a creation story, not a re-creation story. If it were meant to be the latter then the author would have needed to signal this fact in some clearer way than he did. On its face, the commonsense interpretation of the chapter is that Genesis 1 tells us the story of how God established THE WORLD, not just this phase of the world’s history.

So, again, the kindest thing I can say about this is that it is an interesting stab at interpretation but that it is so speculative that it is completely without support–or substantial support, at any rate.

The Revelatory Day Interpretation

The next interpretation of Genesis 1 that I’d like to consider is the Revelatory Day Interpretation. According to this interpretation, the six days of creation are not days through which the world was created. Instead, they are six days through which the creation of the world was revealed to man.

The idea is that God showed Moses (or somebody) a series of visions at a rate of one per day in which he disclosed the mystery of creation. Genesis 1 thus serves as a kind of diary of the visions.

This gets around–or potentially gets around–a number of problems.

The first and most obvious one is that it gets around the evening and morning problem I mentioned in the previous post. The evening and morning hendiadys has its usual meaning: It refers to a 24-hour day.

But it doesn’t get around the Fourth Day sun problem–at least unless you want to say that the visions of the six days zoom around in history rather than telling what God did in chronological order.

(Nor, for those wanting to square all this with modern science, does it get around the land-animals-after-birds problem unless you adopt the "zoom around" theory.)

But these are small matters.

The real problem with the Revelatory Day Interpretation is that there is nothing in the text to suggest it. The text does not have the usual language of biblical prophecy. We don’t have Moses writing "And on the second day God showed me this and on the third day he showed me that." The latter is the kind of language we find elsewhere in the prophets, but it isn’t what we find in Genesis 1.

Worse, the very first day is taken up with the creation of the day/night cycle. That seems to be a peg that roots the interpretation of the six days as being days in which the world is created rather than days in which the creation is revealed.

I mean, if you spend your first day setting up the day/night cycle and then you say "and there was evening and there was morning, one day" then you’ve strongly suggested that the "one day" was the one you were just talking about–in which the day/night cycle was created. If you then slap a parallel formula onto the end of each of the other days then it suggests that they, too, were days in which these things were created, not days in which they were revealed.

At a minimum, it would be EXTRAORDINARILY MISLEADING to the reader to do this.

So the most charitable thing I can say about the Revelatory Day Interpretation is that it is an interesting stab at what the days mean, but it is completely without support and on its face contrary to the text, making it almost as demonstrably false as the Day-Age Interpretation.

The Day-Age Interpretation

The Day-Age Interpretation of Genesis 1 holds that each of the six days of creation represents a long, indefinite period of time rather than a 24-hour day. Each day may represent millions or billions of years, allowing the Genesis 1 chronology to be squared with the findings of modern science.

In its favor, advocates of the Day-Age Interpretation can point to the fact that, in Hebrew as in English, the word "day" can mean a number of things. It can mean "the daylight hours of the day," "a 24-hour day," or "an undefined period of time."

Sentences like the following three are thus equally possible in both English and Hebrew:

  • "He went out during the day, but he came home again at night."
  • "We’re open 24 hours a day, seven days a week."
  • "Many Christians were put to death in the Emperor Nero’s day."

Strictly focusing on the word "day" (Hebrew, yom, which rhymes with "foam") it is possible that the six days of creation could be read as six long periods of time.

Advocates of the interpretation can even point to the fact that Genesis 2:4 uses the word yom in precisely this sense, speaking of "the day that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens."

But there are problems.

First, the Genesis 2:4 reference seems to be part of a different literary unit. We seem to have moved on from the recounting of the week of creation to zoom in on the specific creation of Adam and Eve. This means that the use of the word yom in 2:4 may not shed all that much light on its use in chapter 1. Further, since Genesis 1 depicted the creation of the heavens and the earth as a succession of six yoms (to stick an English plural ending on a Hebrew word; the Hebrew plural would be yomim, pronounced yo-meem) and since 2:4 depicts it as being created in a single yom, that’s at least prima facie evidence that yom is being used in different senses in these passages.

These are small matters, though. Now for some big ones.

The Day-Age Interpretation has a HUGE problem with the fact that the day/night cycle is set up on Day One, while the sun isn’t created until Day Four.

The ancients knew that the fact that the sun is shining is what provides daylight and makes it day, and that the absence of the sun is why the sky is dark at night. This is not something that you need Charles Darwin or even Galileo Galilei to tell you. It’s pretty blog obvious. We know the ancients understood it because some of them–like Origen and Augustine–commented on the fact that the sun was created after the day/night cycle and speculated on what this might mean for the nature of these days.

To get around this problem, advocates of the Day-Age Interpretation have tried proposing a number of theories, none of which are plausible readings of the text in Genesis.

For example: There was a mist or cloud or barrier or atmospheric condition of some kind that blocked clear vision of the sun until the fourth age but which let daylight seep through in a diffuse way for the first three ages. Well, that’s not suggested by anything in Genesis 1. It’s pure speculation designed to prop up a theory that is otherwise in trouble.

Or: The Day-Ages in Genesis 1 aren’t concurrent. They overlap with each other, so the sun would have been visible from the earth’s surface in earlier ages. (This variant also can get around the problem of how birds and fish get created on Day Five even though land animals aren’t created till Day Six. Modern science suggests that the order was fish > land animals > birds, which doesn’t square with Genesis 1 unless the days overlap.) Again, this is not suggested by ANYTHING in Genesis 1. It’s pure speculation designed to prop up a theory that is otherwise in trouble.

But even if the sun-on-Day-Four problem could be solved, there’s another LARGER problem which is completely insoluble as far as I’m concerned.

It’s this: At the end of each day in Genesis 1 the text says a variant on, "And there was evening and there was morning, a second day" (the last bit of the phrase is what changes).

Evening and morning were the two cusps of the 24-hour day in Hebrew time reckoning. The placement of evening first also represents Hebrew time reckoning, since the Hebrew day began at sunset, so evening came before morning. "There was evening and there was morning" is a kind of hendiadys that expresses the whole of the Hebrew day. It’s like saying "day and night" in English–a way of gesturing to the whole of a 24-hour day by naming the two opposing parts of it.

That’s why the phrase is then followed by "one day, "a second day," "a third day," and so on. The evening and morning hendiadys emphasizes the two parts of each of the six days of creation.

Now here’s the problem: The evening and morning hendiadys clearly points us in the direction of a 24-hour day, and the Day-Age Interpretation has an INSURMOUNTABLE problem in that this hendiadys would NEVER have been used to describe a long, indistinct period of time. Long periods of time (especially ones millions or billions of years long) are not divisible in terms of a single evening and a single morning–not by anything other than the interpreter’s fiat, at any rate. This was NOT a part of ancient Hebrew time reckoning, and it would have occurred to NOBODY in the ancient world.

And so I think the Day-Age Interpretation is demonstrably false. It simply is not a credible reading of the text in literary terms.

Interpreting Genesis One

Yesterday’s post about the Death Star Theory (my name for it) raised a number of questions about the interpretation of Genesis 1 and its famous six days. In a series of posts today, I’ll give some thoughts on that. First, let me tell you what my conclusions will be.

There are a truckload of different interpretations of Genesis 1 that have been offered, and I can’t consider them all today. I can consider more (like Gerald Schroeder’s relativistic interpretation) later on. Here’s a list of the five interpretations I will consider today, ranked in order from what I consider the most plausible to the least plausible, along with notes on how plausible I think them to be:

  1. The Framework Interpretation (most plausible from a careful reading of the text)
  2. The Ordinary Day Interpretation (most plausible from a casual reading of the text)
  3. The Gap Interpretation (almost completely without foundation)
  4. The Revelatory Day Interpretation (virtually demonstrably false)
  5. The Day-Age Interpretation (demonstrably false)

Please note in how I treat these interpretations that I am coming at them here from a purely literary perspective. The question I’m asking is: "Given what the text says, how likely is it that this is the correct interpretation of the text?"

I’m trying to arrive at the correct interpretation by considering the question of textual interpretation first, not rushing to square the text with the findings of modern science. My interest is in figuring out what the text most likely means taken on its own terms, not trying to harmonize it with modern science.

In this discussion, I’ll only present one significant point of a scientific nature, and it isn’t a point of modern science. It is something that the ancients knew and commented on, making it fair to include in a discussion of what the author of Genesis 1 meant by what he wrote.

(I will also include an additional few notes based on modern science, but these will be in parentheses as they are not part of my main argument. My main concern is just what the text would be read to mean on its own, without considering modern science.)

Having said that, let’s look at these interpretations, starting with the least plausible.

No More Telegrams. Stop.

Telegram_1

It took many, many years — some 145 of them — but the Pony Express has finally seen sweet justice served to the technology that rang its death knell. As of January 27, 2006, Western Union ended its telegram services.

"On the company’s web site, if you click on ‘Telegrams’ in the left-side navigation bar [sic; it’s on the right side], you’re taken to a page that ends a technological era with about as little fanfare as possible:

"’Effective January 27, 2006, Western Union will discontinue all Telegram and Commercial Messaging services. We regret any inconvenience this may cause you, and we thank you for your loyal patronage. If you have any questions or concerns, please contact a customer service representative.’

"The decline of telegram use goes back at least to the 1980s, when long-distance telephone service became cheap enough to offer a viable alternative in many if not most cases. Faxes didn’t help. Email could be counted as the final nail in the coffin."

GET THE STORY.

Somehow I don’t think that the telegram will inspire as much fond sentiment in the centuries to come as did the Pony Express, which continues to fascinate students of the Old West to this day.