The Pear as a Symbol of the Fruit of the Tree of Life in a Painting by Albrecht Dürer

Madonna and Child with Half-Eaten Pear, by Albrecht Dürer

This painting, dated 1512, is influenced by the style of the Italian Renaissance, but was painted by the German artist Albrecht Dürer. It shows Mary and Christ, each regarding the other with a touchingly loving gaze, and Christ holding a half-eaten pear. Because of its sweetness, in Western iconography the pear is often associated with the fruit of the Tree of Life. This fruit, which our first parents, Adam and Eve, never ate, contains the promise of eternal life. Church Fathers such as Ephraim the Syrian speculated that Adam and Eve were expelled from the garden to protect them from the temptation of doing so, so that they could not live forever in a fallen state.

The pear can be contrasted with the apple, which is traditionally used to represent the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. The apple is not mentioned in Scripture, but it became associated with the Fall because, in Latin, the word for apple is malum, which is phonetically close to malus, meaning “evil.” Here is a 16th-century German painting of the Temptation of Adam and Eve:

This works beautifully, in my opinion, when paired with the Dürer. It is dark and sombre in mood, lacking in color, and the forms are difficult to distinguish in the tenebrous haze of the effects of sin. Even the garden is uniformly brown and shadowy, stripped of any hint of divine glory. 

The Dürer painting, on the other hand, is brightly colored and clear, with the figures shining with light. The contrast between light and dark is visually heightened by the rich black background, an effect achieved through multiple glazes of thin paint.

As Christians, we are now given the privilege denied to our first parents until Christ retrieved them from Hades after the Crucifixion. We are now all offered the choice to enter an Eden that is raised in glory to a level greater than that of the prelapsarian paradise. And we can choose to eat the fruit that promises eternal life, which is Christ himself, present in the Eucharist.

Hymns from Orthros (morning prayer), in the Byzantine liturgy (Canons for Tone VI on Sunday), express these same sentiments, and connect Mary, the Theotokos, to the economy of redemption directly:

Canon of the Resurrection:

Deceived in Eden into eating of the tree, our progenitor fell into corruption, disobeying Thy commandment, O all-good Lord; yet, obedient to the Father, O Savior, by the Cross Thou didst restore him again to his original beauty.

To the Theotokos:

Through thee, O most holy one, hath grace blossomed forth and the law ceased its effect; for thou, O pure Ever-virgin, gavest birth to the Lord Who granteth us remission.

Tasting of the tree showed me forth as mortal, but the Tree of Life, Who revealed Himself through thee, O all-pure one, raised up the dead and hath made me an heir to the sweetness of paradise.

In depictions of the Tree of Jesse, we see that Christ is connected to Adam through Jesse, and, crucially, in the line of King David. The genealogy from Abraham to Christ is described in three sets of 14 generations in the Gospel of Matthew (1, 1-17) to establish this connection. The number 14 is associated with King David due to the numerical value of his name in Hebrew ‘gematria’, a numerological system in which Hebrew letters are assigned numerical values, and words or phrases with equal totals are considered to have a mystical or interpretive connection. In this 12th-century English illumination of the Tree of Jesse by an anonymous artist, we see the line from Jesse, David’s father, to Christ, represented by a single figure, Mary, who in this context can also be considered the figure from which springs the Tree of Life. Christ is, according to the hymn above, the fruit - the ‘sweet pear’ - present to us in the Eucharist.

As an aside, in old Cockney rhyming slang used in England, the phrase “apples and pears” is a synonym for “stairs”. When I was a boy, my Dad used to tell me to go to bed by directing me to go, “up the apples and pears”. I was reminded of this as I wrote this article. I’m not aware of any connection with the fruit of Eden for this saying, although many aspects of traditional culture do have roots in the old religion, so you never know. Perhaps he was wishing me a peaceful night and the sleep of the redeemed, although I was unaware of it at the time!

Entering Heaven on Earth with the Photography of Fr Lawrence Lew OP

One of our best Catholic photographers, Fr. Lawrence Lew, OP, whose work has very often been shared at NLM over the years, has given us a new book that will be of great interest to all readers here:

Entering Heaven on Earth: The Signs, Symbols, and Saints of Catholic Churches 

It’s a stupendous coffee-table encyclopedia comprising just what the subtitle of the book tells us. Fr. Lew himself is responsible for all the gorgeous photos as well as the crystal-clear, just-the-right-length, theologically profound commentary, fully worthy of a member of the Order of Preachers.

In Part I, Fr. Lew takes us through sacred architecture, the form of the Church, color and ornamentation, altar and tabernacle.

In Part II, he looks at living creatures and nonliving creatures as symbols.

In Part III, the way the Bible is depicted in sacred art, with the rosary mysteries, the Old Testament scenes and typology, depictions of God, angels, the Last Judgment, and the sacraments.

In Part IV, he takes us through artistic depictions and symbols of the saints: Our Lady, apostles, evangelists, and all the other categories, with their halos, habits, flora, fauna, objects, body parts, and instruments.

As I paged through the book I could not believe how thorough it is — there’s probably not a single thing you’ll ever see in a Catholic church, no matter how lavish its use of signs and symbols, that is not explained here!

One thing I especially appreciate is that Fr. Lew’s commentary is deeply traditional but also quite delicate — there’s no hammering. He simply takes things for granted, such as the communion rail, or black as a proper color for Requiems. He’s a “gentle traditionalist,” to use Roger Buck’s phrase.

Some photos of the book:

The book is available from the publisher, from Amazon, and doubtless from other online shops too. This book is a good way to evangelize with beauty and tradition.

The Sacred Heart in the Sacred Liturgy: Thoughts on the Symbolism of the Thurible

It is difficult to overstate the significance of fire in the collective imagination of Judeo-Christian civilization. It is, perhaps, the ultimate symbol. In ancient Greek thought, it represented the uniquely human; in Jewish thought, the divine. Young children are fascinated by it, perhaps because they sense its paradox—so easily snuffed out, like man, and yet so powerful, like God.

In Greek mythology, there are two fires: the celestial fire, which Zeus withheld from mankind, and human fire, given to mankind by Prometheus, who stole it from the Olympian gods. The former is immortal; the latter, like man, is ever on the verge of death.

The fire men have now at their disposal ... is a fire that is “born”—so it is also a fire that dies; it must be kept burning, it must be tended. This fire has an appetite like mortal man’s; unless it is constantly fed, it goes out.... It constantly recalls both his divine origin and his animal nature; it partakes of both—like man himself. [1]

The basic Hebrew word for fire is ’ēsh, which begins with א (aleph), the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet, the letter of origins, creation, and the perfect Unity—despite apparent dualities—of the divine Essence. Fire, like God, creates ex nihilo, and enables life: from darkness, light; from cold, warmth; from grain, bread; from rock, iron. It also destroys.

The first occurrence of ’ēsh in the Bible is Genesis 15, 17: “And it cometh to pass—the sun hath gone in, and thick darkness hath been—and lo, a furnace of smoke, and a lamp of fire, which hath passed over between those pieces.” The lamp, casting light amidst the gloom, signifies the majesty of the Almighty and seals a covenant between Abram and his God. The next occurrence is Genesis 19, 24: “Then the Lord rained upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven.” The next is Genesis 22, 6: “And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering, and laid it upon Isaac his son; and he took in his hand the fire and the knife; and they went both of them together.” First, the love of God, eternal and true, promised to Abraham and his seed forever. Second, His justice, enacted upon men for whom Abraham prayed. Third, His justice turned upon a Victim—Isaac, Christ—who will burn with agony to save men from burning in eternity.

In Exodus, fire becomes the prevailing manifestation of God. He appears to Moses in a bush that “burned with fire and … was not consumed,” He leads the Israelites as a pillar of fire, and He comes in elemental, awe-inspiring magnificence to Mount Sinai, “which was altogether on smoke, because the Lord descended upon it in fire: and the smoke thereof ascended as the smoke of a furnace, and the whole mount quaked greatly.”

The theophany on Sinai is a sublimely liturgical moment. The people must purify themselves, fasting from carnal pleasures: estote parati in diem tertium, “be ye ready against the third day.” They gather and prepare to encounter the living God, but only from a distance, and only through signs and wonders. The privilege of entering into the sanctum is reserved for Aaron, the high priest, and Moses, the supreme prophet. Moses returns with an inestimable gift—the laws of God, so delightful to the faithful soul that in the Hebrew Bible’s longest chapter, Psalm 118, the inspired poet sings a love song to them.

Could fire, with a sacred history as illustrious as this, be absent from the Christian liturgy? Such a thought is not to be borne. But Christianity has no place for the funerary bonfires of the pagan Greeks, nor for the burnt offerings of the Jews. Instead, we have the orderly and aromatic fire of incense, which has been burned in Christian worship since the early centuries of the Church. This Christian fire burns hot indeed, but gently and discreetly; it is a fire of coals, hidden inside the thurible, whose shape is often reminiscent of a mountain, and whose smoke is that of silent prayer.

Exodus 24, 17 tells us that for the children of Israel, “the glory of the Lord was like devouring fire on the top of the mount.” For Christians—living in the age of grace, and called to worship in spirit and truth—the fire of the Lord is not so physically vast, not so externally tremendous. Rather than blazing in awesome splendor from mountain heights, it burns with infinite intensity in the Heart of Jesus Christ. Saint Margaret Mary saw what most of us must imagine:

Flames issued from every part of His Sacred Humanity, especially from His Adorable Breast, which resembled an open furnace and disclosed to me His most loving and most amiable Heart, which was the living source of these flames.

Catholic artists have struggled to worthily depict the Sacred Heart. Were I a painter, I would approach the task with fear and trembling, very much as the Israelites must have approached the mountain of the Lord: “when the trumpet soundeth long, they shall come up to the mount,” but “whosoever toucheth the mount shall be surely put to death.”

Perhaps the most worthy depiction of the Sacred Heart is not a depiction at all, but a symbol. The thurible shows us the Sacred Heart as a beautiful enclosure in which the sacred fire burns, and which swings and flows with the rhythms of life—the slow, solemn heartbeat of the liturgy. Hanging from a chain, as Our Lord hung from the Cross, the thurible reminds us that the divine Heart burns for men, was pierced by a man, and is entrusted to men when distributed in Holy Communion. [2]

From the crown of the thurible, as from the holy mountain of which the psalmist speaks, the smoke of prayer rises steadily, ever ascending from the Heart of Christ to the throne of His heavenly Father. But Our Lord wills that it be renewed from time to time by the devotion of His servants. The priest does this on our behalf, sprinkling grains of incense as the Gospel sower sprinkled “the word of the kingdom ... upon good ground” (Matthew 13, 19; 23). Indeed, the thurible is an enclosure, but it is not sealed. The Heart of Our Lord is ineffably holy yet offered to all who approach Him with humility and love, striving to “hear the word of God and keep it” (Luke 11, 28). 

Finally, we can reflect on the resilience of the thurible, an object made of metal and subjected repeatedly to heat that no flesh could endure. After St. Margaret Mary felt endangered by the overwhelmingly ardent fire of the divine Heart, Our Lord consoled her with these words: “I will be your strength. Fear nothing.”

NOTES

1. Jean-Pierre Vernant, The Universe, the Gods, and Men: Ancient Greek Myths, translated by Linda Asher, pp. 55–56. 

2. I am referring here to the Eucharistic miracle of Lanciano, which suggests, by means of twentieth-century scientific analysis, that the Flesh received in Holy Communion bears a special relationship with Our Lord’s physical Heart.

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For thrice-weekly discussions of art, history, language, literature, Christian spirituality, and traditional Western liturgy, all seen through the lens of medieval culture, you can subscribe (for free!) to my Substack publication: Via Mediaevalis.

“Aquae Sanctae Terrae”: The Spiritual Signification of the Waters of the Holy Land (Conclusion)

“Aquae Sanctae Terrae”: The Spiritual Signification of the Waters of the Holy Land

A Seminarian from the Midwest

Conclusion: The Devil and the Dead Sea

(Part 1 may be read here, Part 2 here.)

Aerial view of Dead Sea shore (source)

The Dead Sea

Now there is only one more lake in the Holy Land to discuss — the Dead Sea. Its name betrays where it represents on the spiritual map. The Dead Sea represents Hell. The geographic features alone make a strong case for this theory. The Dead Sea, at -1,411 feet below sea level, is the lowest place on earth. Scripture is filled with allusions to Hell being a place where the damned will go down to. The region around the sea can also be odorous due to the high sulfur concentration. The Dead Sea is about nine times saltier than the ocean, and is unable to support any life.[46] The average summer temperatures around the lake are about 105 F, but at times have been recorded over 120 F.

The Dead Sea is also an endorheic lake, which means it has no outlet. This accounts for its high salinity. Whatever minerals the Jordan pumps into it will never leave unless they are physically extracted, which means the lake will only get saltier over time. It is also worth noting that the only entrance into the Dead Sea is from the north, or the top of the lake. This is fitting, because the only way to get to Hell is to go down to it from earth. Lake Hula and the Sea of Galilee, on the other hand, are exorheic lakes, which means they have both an entrance and an exit point. This mirrors how there are entrances at each end of earth and Purgatory. For earth, you can either go up to Purgatory or Heaven, or down to Hell. For Purgatory, there is an entrance coming from earth and an entrance going up to Heaven. Heaven only has a door at the bottom, which Saint Peter faithfully guards, for those coming up from earth or Purgatory.

The Dead Sea also features negatively in the scriptures. In Deuteronomy, the Dead Sea is referred to as the Salt Sea or the Sea of the Arabah, which means Sea of the Desert or Wasteland in Hebrew.[47] Scholars debate the exact locations of Sodom and Gomorrha, but there is a general consensus they were located somewhere on the shores of the Dead Sea. These cities are synonymous for immorality and are fitting symbols for Hell. We also read that God destroys Sodom and Gomorrha with fire and brimstone (which is the same thing as sulfur).[48] Lot’s wife is also turned into a pillar of salt.[49] The Dead Sea and the surrounding region abounds with these two hellish symbols — salt and sulfur. The wicked city Jericho is only seven miles from the Dead Sea.

Debris beside the Dead Sea (source)

Jerusalem is also only about fifteen miles from the Dead Sea which is striking. One may ask why the holy city of Jerusalem is so close to a place that represents Hell? The answer can once again be found in the topography/geography of the landscape. Although relatively close to the Dead Sea and Jericho, Jerusalem towers nearly 4,000 feet above the Dead Sea and sits about 3,200 feet higher than Jericho. Jerusalem is not part of Hell, but is almost its gate. This is fitting because Jerusalem is where Christ triumphed over Satan and Hell.

Through His passion and death, Christ tore down the gates of Hell and harrowed it. Jerusalem and the gates of Hell serve as a counterpoint to Caeserea Philippi and the gates of Heaven. This image of gates is referenced in Matthew’s gospel, “And I say to thee: Thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”[50] The gates of Hell shall not prevail against the Church because Christ has vanquished them through His passion and death just outside Jerusalem.

The devil’s hatred for water

The final point to note is the Devil’s hatred for water. Although this theory is more speculative, there is evidence to support it. The storm on the Sea of Galilee can be viewed as a challenge from the Devil. He uses water to try to frighten Christ and the Apostles. The Devil is threatened because Christ is on His way to exorcise the Gerasene demoniac (Mark 5). Our Lord is encroaching on what the Devil thinks is his territory. The water in the symbolic Hell (the Dead Sea) is so polluted with salt, it is useless and cannot support life. Moreover, the Dead Sea itself is shrinking at a steady pace.

The real Hell is likely going to be a place without any water. We can deduce this from the story of the rich man in Saint Luke’s gospel. The rich man, languishing in Hell, begs for a single drop of water, “And he cried, and said: Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, to cool my tongue: for I am tormented in this flame.”[51] The Devil hates God and God’s creation and is constantly seeking to destroy it. His favorite way to do this is by stealing souls away from Heaven.

The waters of baptism are a painful reminder to him of souls who are escaping from his grasp and of God’s supreme power. Through baptism, God stamps an indelible mark on a man’s soul. The Devil does all he can to sully this mark, but he cannot erase it. Christ’s side during the passion also sprayed water alongside blood. Saint Thomas says this is appropriate because it signifies the purifying effect of the passion.[52] Water is also used at every Mass which is yet one more small reminder to Satan of his defeat at Calvary.

God is eternal wisdom; nothing He does is arbitrary. The geography of the Holy Land is no exception. Although the historical events that occurred in this region tell us it is important, the land and water themselves tell a story through their physical structure. The physical features of the Holy Land were designed in such a way that they would reflect spiritual places and realities:

• The beautiful region around the Jordan’s headwaters with its fresh mountain air signifies Heaven.
• The malarial swamp of Lake Hula and the scorched land around it, cleared of infidels, represents Purgatory as a place of penance and purgation.
• The sometimes tranquil and sometimes turbulent waters of the Sea of Galilee reflect the many ups and downs we experience in our earthly lives. Christ’s abiding presence, however, always pervades the stormy world. Our Lord is always ready to extend a hand to save us or calm the storm when we call on Him.
• The Jordan River, flowing from its heavenly heights, sanctified by Christ Himself, is a symbol of baptism and the grace which flows down to us on earth. It is a life-giving highway connecting Heaven with earth. It also washes the filth of our sins down to the dregs of Hell.
• Finally, the lifeless Dead Sea, sitting at the lowest place on earth, represents Hell in all its hot and sulfurous misery.

The Jordan and its watershed, therefore, are more than just a sliver of Palestine; they also signify the whole physical and spiritual world.

NOTES

[46] Learning Lesson: A Funny Taste — National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, www.noaa.gov/jetstream/ocean/ll-taste.

[47] Deuteronomy 3:17

[48] Genesis 19:24

[49] Genesis 19:26

[50] Matthew 16:18

[51] Luke 16:24

[52] Saint Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, III, q. 76, a. 6, corpus, trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province, (New York, NY: Benziger Brothers, Inc., 1947), 2443.

“Aquae Sanctae Terrae”: The Spiritual Signification of the Waters of the Holy Land (Part 2)

Joshua passing the River Jordan with the Ark of the Covenant, 1800, by Benjamin West, (source).

“Aquae Sanctae Terrae”: The Spiritual Signification of the Waters of the Holy Land

A Seminarian from the Midwest

Part 2: The Sea of Galilee and the Jordan River

(Part 1 may be read here.)

The Sea of Galilee

The Jordan’s next stop is at the Sea of Galilee, which lies ten miles south of Lake Hula and sits nearly 1,000 feet lower at about 700 feet below sea level. The Sea of Galilee, and all the land north of the Dead Sea in the Holy Land up to the Jordan headwaters, but excluding Lake Hula, represent the earth on the spiritual map. Within this region, Christ became man to redeem the world. There are many stories within the Old and New Testament, especially at the Jordan River and the Sea of Galilee, which highlight God’s intervention on earth. These episodes are primarily associated with the importance of Baptism and the necessity of being part of the Church. The region is also culturally diverse despite its small size, enhancing its global character.

Beginning in the Old Testament, the first major reference to the Jordan River comes in the book of Joshua. The Israelites are finally taking the Promised Land. God commands Joshua to have priests of the tribe of Levi carry the Ark of the Covenant into the Jordan River. [20] When the priests enter the swollen Jordan with the Ark, it parts like the Red Sea, and the Israelites cross safely. Joshua then has twelve men, one from each tribe, carry twelve stones out of the river to commemorate the miraculous crossing. [21] He also has them put twelve stones into the river where the priests held the Ark. [22] The Ark of the Covenant’s presence in the Jordan is a sign of God’s power and blessing coming over the river. This event prefigures Christ’s baptism, which forever sanctified the Jordan. To this day, water taken from the Jordan River is treated as ready to use baptismal water and does not need to be exorcised or blessed like regular baptismal water.

The episode also has implications for the priesthood of the Old and New Covenant. The Levites carrying the Ark into the river represent the priests of the old covenant. The twelve men from the twelve tribes represent the Apostles and the New Covenant priesthood. The twelve stones they take from the river also represent the Apostles and are like the twelve precious foundation stones on which God will build the heavenly city in the book of the Apocalypse. [23] The twelve stones that get put into the river represent the burying of the Old Covenant priesthood, indicated by the verse, “And they are there until this present day.” [24] Once everyone has safely crossed the river, the priests lead the Israelites into the Promised Land, “And when they had all passed over, the ark also of the Lord passed over, and the priests went before the people.” [25] This image is also similar to the New Testament sacrament of baptism. Through baptism, a priest leads a soul dead from original sin, into the spiritual promised land of life with Christ.

Naaman the leper

Another Old Testament story featuring the Jordan occurs in the Fourth Book of Kings. As mentioned before, here we read about, Naaman, the leprous Syrian army commander. Desperately Seeking a cure, Naaman takes the advice of a captured Hebrew girl, and visits the prophet Elisha. Elisha tells Naaman to wash in the Jordan seven times. [26] Naaman is unimpressed, but after some convincing from his retinue, he relents and does as Elisha asks. [27]Naaman is cleansed while washing, “And his flesh was restored, like the flesh of a little child, and he was made clean.” [28] The connection between this story and baptism is obvious. The leprosy represents sin. The sacrament of baptism washes away every trace of sin and bestows sanctifying grace on a soul.

Now is an appropriate time to answer Naaman’s original objection. Why must he wash in the Jordan? It is not on account of the Jordan’s physical properties, but because of what the river signifies. The Jordan, flowing down from its mountainous sources, is a physical manifestation of how God’s grace flows down from Heaven to us in the valley of earth below. The Jordan is like a spiritual highway or a channel of grace. Through the sacrament of baptism, invisible and spiritual realities are joined with the visible and material world. By God’s power, men receive sanctifying grace through water. The Jordan and the waters of the Holy Land are the place where God chose to create this unique union and institute the sacrament of baptism. Looking back with New Testament eyes, it is obvious why God had Namaan wash in the Jordan. The cleansing was a prefiguration of baptism. For Naaman, however, this sign was not apparent. Naaman receives a visible and physical healing, yet he is baffled by the means. He only sees the physical reality, the Jordan, a little line on the physical map. Like everything in the Old Testament, Naaman’s story only finds its fulfillment in the New Testament. The sacrament of baptism, which Christ institutes in the New Testament, provides a spiritual and invisible healing. A healing superior to Naaman’s physical healing. Naaman’s story also shows how the Gentiles will eventually come into covenant with God. Therefore, when we look at the Jordan River on the spiritual map, we see it is not just a little line, but is also a symbol of the invisible grace that is flowing down from Heaven in the sacrament of baptism.

Nicolas Poussin, Saint John Baptizing in the River Jordan, 1630s (source)

John the Baptist and Christ

The Jordan also features prominently in the New Testament. In Matthew’s gospel, John the Baptist is in the desert outside Jerusalem, preaching the baptism of repentance to the Jews. It is possible that John was baptizing in the exact same place that Joshua and the Israelites crossed the Jordan River centuries earlier. Joshua crossed the Jordan opposite of Jericho which is the same area where John was baptizing. [29] One can find evidence for this theory in Matthew’s gospel. When the Pharisees and Sadducees come out to investigate what is going on, John chastises them, saying, “Ye brood of vipers, who hath showed you to flee from the wrath to come? Bring forth therefore fruit worthy of penance.” [30] The Pharisees and Sadducees represent the rottenness of what the Jewish people have become. John, perhaps looking at the same twelve stones which Joshua removed from the river, continues, “For I tell you that God is able of these stones to raise up children to Abraham.” [31] These stones symbolize the Apostles and their mission of making believers of all nations. He also warns of the passing of the Old Covenant when he says, “For now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree therefore that doth not yield good fruit, shall be cut down, and cast into the fire.” [32] John’s baptisms link the Old and the New Covenant. John’s baptisms were only a representation of the true effect of baptism. They were a ritual cleansing for Jews, which represented the cleansing of sins. John himself says, “I indeed baptize you in water unto penance, but he that shall come after me, is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear; he shall baptize you in the Holy Ghost and fire.” [33] It is the baptism of the New Covenant therefore, which will be truly efficacious and wipe out sins.

It is in this context that Christ also comes to John to receive baptism. Since Christ was sinless, He was not coming to be figuratively cleansed of sins. The Catechism of Trent, citing Saint Augustine, argues that Christ received baptism in order to institute it as a sacrament. [34] Saint Augustine writes, “From the moment that Christ is immersed in water, water washes away all sins” and, “The Lord is baptized, not because He had need to be cleansed, but in order that, by the contact of His pure flesh, He might purify the waters and impart to them the power of cleansing.” [35] Christ’s submerging under water also signifies the time He would spend in the tomb between His death and resurrection. Likewise, when men are baptized, there is also an element of death, burial, and resurrection present. The old man, dead to sin, is buried; and the new man, alive in Christ, rises. This new life in Christ is symbolized by a shining white garment which the Church gives to the newly baptized man.

Mosaic from Sant’Apollinare Nuovo in Ravenna (source)

Calling of the disciples

After Christ’s baptism, he retires into Galilee. [36] In Christ’s time, the region around the Sea of Galilee was a cross section of the major cultures of the world. Greeks, Romans, and Jews all lived in the region. Travelers from all over the world also passed through Galilee on the Via Maris, a Roman highway connecting the Nile Delta with Damascus. [37] This cultural mishmash is reflected by the names of the different cities and villages found around the Sea of Galilee. There are the Greek names of the Decapolis district (on the southeast shore of the sea) including, Philadelphia, Hippos, and Pella. There are the Latin names of Caesarea Philippi and Tiberias. And of course there are the Hebrew names such as, Chorazin, Capharnaum, Tabgha, and Magdala. The sea itself also goes by different names. In the Old Testament it is called, the Sea of Chinneroth, Kinerot, or Kineret (Hebrew). Saint Luke gives it the Hellenized name, Lake Gennesaret (Lk 5:1). Matthew and Mark refer to it as the Sea of Galilee (Hebrew), naming if after the district it is in. John calls it both the Sea of Galilee and the Sea of Tiberias (Latin).

In Mark’s gospel, we read of Christ famously calling Peter, Andrew, James, and John to be His Apostles while they are fishing. When viewing the Sea of Galilee as a symbol of the earth or the world, the calling gains added significance. In addition to Christ’s words indicating their new vocation, “Come after to me, and I will make you to become fishers of men”, there is also the physical element of Christ calling His first priests to step away from the noise and distractions of the world so they can devote themselves to serving and being with Him. [38]

Perhaps the most famous incident at the Sea of Galilee is the storm at sea depicted in Mark 4 and Matthew 8. Christ is asleep in the boat while His Apostles battle the storm. The boat, the barque of Peter, represents the Church. The stormy sea represents the dangers of the world. Saint Peter Chrysologus gives his vivid interpretation of the scene:

When Christ embarked, in the boat of His Church, to cross the sea of the world, the blasts of the Gentiles, the whirlwinds of the Jews, the tempests of persecutors, the storm clouds of the mob, and the foggy mists of the devils all descended in a fury to make one storm over all the world. [39]

The Apostles, in the midst of their peril, wake our Lord. Christ rises and rebukes the wind and sea. Through this rebuke, Jesus proves He is the master of the world. Evil has no real power. It is only permitted by God to serve some greater purpose. In this passage, Christ uses the storm to test the faith of the Apostles and manifest His power.

Our Lord and Saint Peter’s night time walk on the sea, recounted in Matthew 14, is another classic story. At first, Peter confidently walks out to Christ, but then he sinks into the water. Our Lord quickly comes to the rescue, and gently chides Peter, “O thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt?” [40] This story teaches us that like Peter, we too can rise above the world and master its perils if we keep our focus on Christ; but when we take our eyes off of Christ, we will sink back into the mire of the world just as Peter did. Jesus, however, is always ready to save us when we call on Him.

Circle of Tintoretto (Lambert Sustris?), Christ at the Sea of Galilee, c. 1570s (source)

Resurrection appearance

The last great event to happen at the Sea of Galilee occurs in John’s gospel after the resurrection. Seven of the Apostles are out fishing on the sea. They have had a bad night, managing to catch no fish. Their fortunes change, however, as night turns to day, and Christ appears on the shore. Our Lord commands them to drop their nets on the right side of the boat. The apostles do as He asks, and immediately their nets are filled with 153 fish. Once they have landed this miraculous catch, John realizes that it is Jesus who is on the beach, and says to Peter, “It is the Lord.” [41] Peter then puts on his tunic, for he was naked (Jh 21:7), and swims to meet Christ on the shore. The rest of the Apostles follow by boat with the miraculous catch. On the beach, Peter proves his three-fold love for Christ, redeeming his three denials. This whole event is rich in meaning and merits unpacking.

The first point of interest is that the Apostles have returned to their old way of life. There is nothing inherently wrong with fishing, but Christ called the Apostles away from this profession for a higher purpose which they seem to have forgotten. Their work is not blessed by God, indicated by the empty night of fishing. Christ, however, brings the morning rays of sun and grace with Him. He tells the Apostles to try dropping their nets on the right side of the boat. When they do so, they catch 153 fish. Our Lord is reminding them of their true vocation, which is to be fishers of men.

Saint Jerome believed the number 153 was significant because that was the number of known fish species at the time. [42] The fish represent all the nations of the world that the Apostles are called to baptize. This idea also aligns with the verse in Matthew which reads, “Again the kingdom of heaven is like to a net cast into the sea, and gathering together all kinds of fishes.” [43] Casting the net on the right side indicates the way of salvation, while the left side indicates the way of damnation. [44] When Peter hears that it is Christ on the beach, he puts on his tunic and swims to meet him. This is another image for baptism. By the submersion in water at baptism, a man is purified and prepared to receive Christ. He then receives a white garment to show that He has been clothed by Christ. Both the submersion and the garment are present in this story (Jh 21:7). This is also an undoing of the incident in Genesis where Adam and Eve, unlike Peter, hide from God in the garden because they are ashamed of their nakedness. [45]

All these stories of the Old and New Testaments provide evidence for how the Jordan River and the Sea of Galilee are symbols for the world. The events that take place at these bodies of water are also usually associated with images of baptism and the Church, which is fitting because these are the means which aid us on earth in our quest for Heaven.

NOTES

[20] Joshua 3:3

[21] Joshua 4:8

[22] Joshua 4:9

[23] Apocalypse 21:19-20

[24] Joshua 4:9

[25] Joshua4:12

[26] 4 Kings 5:10

[27] 4 Kings 5:11-14

[28] 4 Kings 5:14

[29] Joshua 4:13

[30] Matthew 3:7-8

[31] Matthew 3:9

[32] Matthew 3:10

[33] Matthew 3:11

[34] The Catechism of the Council of Trent, (Charlotte, NC: Tan Books, 2017), 179.

[35] The Catechism of the Council of Trent, 179.

[36] Matthew 4:12-13

[37] Rev. Bargil Pixner, Paths of the Messiah, trans. Keith Myrick, Sam Randall, and Miriam Randal, ed. Ranier Riesner, (San Francisco, CA: Ignatius Press, 1991), 55.

[38] Mark 1:17

[39] Saint Peter Chrysologus, Fathers of the Church: Saint Peter Chrysologus Selected Sermons and Saint Valerian Homilies, Vol.17, trans. George E. Ganss, S.J. (New York, NY: Father of the Church, Inc., 1953), 62.

[40] Matthew 14:31

[41] John 21:7

[42] George R. Beasley-Murray, World Biblical Commentary: John, Vol. 36, (Waco, TX: Word Books, 1987), 401-402.

[43] Matthew 13:47

[44] Matthew 25:34, 25:41

[45] Genesis 3:10

“Aquae Sanctae Terrae”: The Spiritual Signification of the Waters of the Holy Land (Part 1)

NLM is grateful to S.K., a seminarian from the Midwest, for sharing this recent paper with us. – PAK

Jordan River as it runs through northern Israel

“Aquae Sanctae Terrae”: The Spiritual Signification of the Waters of the Holy Land

Part 1: The Jordan’s Sources and Lake Hula

Introduction

In the Fourth Book of Kings, Naaman the Syrian, derides the Jordan River when Elisha tells him to wash in it. He declares, “Are not the Abana, and the Pharphar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel, that I may wash in them, and be made clean?” [1]

At first glance, Naaman’s assessment seems accurate. Although the Jordan River, the springs that feed it, and the Sea of Galilee, are attractive bodies of water, they are not physically impressive. The Jordan is only 223 miles long. In comparison, the Tigris and Euphrates rivers each measure well over 1,000 miles. The Nile flows over 4,000 miles from its source in Lake Victoria. The Sea of Galilee at thirteen miles long and eight miles wide is equally unimpressive. It could fit into Lake Michigan 350 times. The other Holy Land lakes have even less to speak of. In most biblical maps, one will notice a small lake ten miles to the north of the Sea of Galilee. This is Lake Hula, or the Waters of Merom. At about three miles long and three miles wide, it is barely noted in the scriptures at all. The last lake, the Dead Sea, is the largest, but also the most repulsive. It is about three times larger than the Sea of Galilee. The sea’s water is so salty it cannot support any forms of life and is bitter to the taste. After a few minutes, it will also sting the flesh of those who swim in it.

Thus, if the waters of the Holy Land are not that special, why must Naaman wash in the Jordan? What makes this river and the waters of the Holy Land significant? The answer can be found on a map, but not a physical one. Hiding beneath the underwhelming marks these waters make on a physical map, is another map — a spiritual one. In this essay, I will do some spiritual cartography and map out the spiritual places these waters represent — revealing their true significance.

Water is one of the richest symbols in the scriptures. The Bible is packed with stories set in or around water. In the Old Testament, a few examples include: the gathering of the oceans during the creation narrative, the great flood, the crossing of the Red Sea, Moses striking the rock, and the crossing of the Jordan in the book of Joshua. In the New Testament, we read of Christ’s baptism in the Jordan, the miracle at the wedding in Cana, Christ sleeping in the boat during the storm on the Sea of Galilee, Christ walking on the Sea of Galilee, and water flowing from Christ’s side during the passion. Since I cannot cover every reference to water in this essay, I will limit myself primarily to the major events that occurred at the Jordan River and its lakes (Lake Hula, the Sea of Galilee, and the Dead Sea). Water is an important element because it is a symbol of life. Water by its purity also signifies cleanliness and innocence. Finally, water is the matter used in the sacrament of baptism, which means there is a real material connection between water and sanctifying grace. These are the main attributes of water that will be covered in this essay.

Photo by Lawrence Lew OP (source)

Sources of the Jordan

The first place to pin on the spiritual map is Heaven. Where does this overlap with the physical map of the Holy Land? The answer is at the sources of the Jordan River.

The Jordan is formed by three small spring fed rivers that converge in the Hula Valley to form the Jordan River. [2] The three springs are located at an elevation of around 1,800 feet and are all near the foot of Mount Hermon in Lebanon. With their constant outflow of water, springs have an everlasting character, which reminds us of God, eternity, and Heaven.

There are also several places in the scriptures where we see springs and rivers flowing out of Heaven or places that resemble Heaven. In Genesis, we read that the Garden of Eden, a type of proto-heaven, was watered by a spring, “But a spring rose out of the earth, watering all the surface of the earth.” [3] This spring forms a river several verses later, “And a river went out of the place of pleasure to water paradise.” [4] Adam and Eve lost paradise through their sin. God, however, promises to make a new Heaven, which is symbolized by Ezekiel’s vision of a rebuilt Jerusalem. [5] The exiled Israelites returning to their home represent all believers (of the Old and New Testaments) returning to their true home of Heaven.

A life-giving spring is also depicted as flowing from the temple of this new Jerusalem. We know this does not represent a physical place, because no such spring flows or has ever flowed from the temple in Jerusalem, which means this is a depiction of something spiritual, such as spiritual temple or heavenly temple. This spiritual temple is Christ’s own body which was pierced on the right side and released a flow of purifying water. The verse from Ezekiel predicts this, “And behold there ran out waters on the right side.” [6] We read further that the spring forms a river which heals wherever it flows. The waters represent the healing effects of sanctifying grace which was merited by Christ’s passion and death. There is one place, however, that cannot be healed — Hell. This is signified by the verse, “But on the shore thereof, and in the fenny places they shall not be healed, because they shall be turned into saltpits.” [7] The springs in Eden, the temple of the new Jerusalem, and Christ’s side, all provide support for the idea that the three springs of the Jordan River represent Heaven.

Since there are three springs, a connection can be made between them and the three persons of the Holy Trinity. The formula for the sacrament of Baptism can also be linked with the three springs. In the sacrament, the minister pours a separate stream of water as he names each member of the Holy Trinity, one pour for each spring.

On a map, the three springs roughly form an inverted triangle. In the northwest, there is the spring which feeds the Hasbani River, in the middle/south, there is the spring which supplies the Dan River, and in the northeast, there is the spring which turns into the Baniyas River. All of the springs are renowned for their purity and natural beauty. The eastern spring and river get their names from the Greek nature god, Pan, who had a shrine located in a niche outside the cave where the spring begins. Above the cave is a massive rock wall about 200 feet high and 500 feet wide. [8] Located within sight of the cave, Philip the tetrarch, built the city of Caeserea Philippi in honor of Caesar Augustus. [9] On top of the rock wall, there was a white marble temple dedicated to Caesar. [10]

Father Stanley Jaki, a contemporary Bible scholar, argues that this was the location where Christ chose Saint Peter to be the head of the Church. He bases his theory on the verses from Matthew beginning with, “And Jesus came into the quarters of Cesarea Philippi: and asked his disciples, saying: Whom do men say that the Son of man is?” [11] Peter replies, “Thou art Christ, the Son of the living God.” [12] To which our Lord responds,

Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-Jona: because flesh and blood hath not revealed it to thee, but my Father who is in heaven. And I say to thee: That thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give to thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven. [13]

Father Jaki proposes that this scene took place outside of Pan’s cave under the large rock wall. Jesus and the Apostles would not have gone right up to the spring because of the presence of the pagan shrine. [14] He writes, “Standing at a distance, Jesus and the Twelve must have been impressed by the massive wall of rock rising over the source of the Jordan.” [15] The rock wall provides an appropriate background for Christ to speak these words to Peter. In the presence of the pagan temples and false gods, who vie conspicuously close to Christ and the source of the holy Jordan River, Peter boldly declares Jesus as the true God. The symbolism is obvious. Peter (whose name means rock) is likened to the massive rock wall. Christ rewards Peter’s faith by promising to build the Church on top of him. Christ is asserting His power over the false gods that dwell above and below the physical rock wall that they are standing in front of. Any remnants of these pagan images will be washed away by the Jordan.

If Father Jaki’s theory is correct, it would also fit with the theory that the source of the Jordan represents Heaven. The Church is erected as the gate through which believers must enter Heaven. Christ appoints Peter as the gatekeeper of this gate and gives Him the keys. It is also interesting that this particular spring is the one that flows from the east. Throughout the scriptures, God and His power are always depicted as coming from the east.

Lake Hula

Following the Jordan River south, we come to the Jordan’s first lake, Lake Hula, also referred to as the Waters of Merom. Historically it measured about three miles by three miles, and was five to ten feet deep. [16] The lake was drained in the 1950’s because it was a breeding ground for malarial mosquitoes. [17] Today only a small wetland remains.

On the spiritual map, Lake Hula represents Purgatory. At an elevation of about 230 feet, it is nestled between the Jordan headwaters at around 1,800 feet in elevation and the next lake down, the Sea of Galilee, which sits about 700 feet below sea level. Lake Hula is only mentioned once in the scriptures, and is referred to as the Waters of Merom in the book of Joshua. The lake is the sight of a major battle between the Israelites and a coalition of pagan nations. God promises Joshua that he will be victorious in battle and commands him to take no quarter. [18] Joshua is a figure for Jesus. We know that Jesus’ victory on the cross merited enough grace for all to be saved, but the grace is only efficacious for those who believe in God and do His will. The strict command to annihilate all of the enemies is a warning to all those who reject God’s grace. There is no salvation for those who oppose God. After the battle, Joshua purges the area of all pagan influence. We read of Joshua capturing Asor, “Now Asor of old was the head of of all these kingdoms. And he cut off all the souls that abode there: he left not in it any remains, but utterly destroyed all, and burned the city itself with fire.” [19]

Like the land around Asor and Lake Hula, Purgatory is also a place of fiery purification. It is the place where God’s refining fire cleanses souls of any remaining earthly attachments. This fire, however, is deadly for God’s enemies. The historical presence of malaria around this lake also points to additional suffering for those who dwell around it. Lake Hula then is a fitting spot for Purgatory. It is a place of painful purgation where only the saved can go, but one which they would rather bypass.

NOTES

[1] 4 Kings 5, 12 (All Bible quotes are from the Douay-Rheims translation)

[2] “Jordan River.” Encyclopedia Britannica, Encyclopedia Britannica, inc., 25 Nov. 2023, www.britannica.com/place/Jordan-River.

[3] Genesis 2, 6

[4] Genesis 2, 10

[5] Ezekiel 47

[6] Ezekiel 47, 2

[7] Ezekiel 47, 11

[8] Rev. Stanley Jaki, And on This Rock, (Front Royal, VA: Christendom Press, 1997), 10.

[9] Rev. Stanley Jaki, And on This Rock, 10.

[10] Rev. Stanley Jaki, And on This Rock, 15.

[11] Matthew 16, 13

[12] Matthew 16, 16

[13] Matthew 16, 17-19

[14] Rev. Stanley Jaki, And on This Rock, 77.

[15] Ibid. 77.

[16] “Jordan River.” Encyclopedia Britannica, Encyclopedia Britannica, inc., 25 Nov. 2023, www.britannica.com/place/Jordan-River.

[17] Ibid.

[18] Joshua 11, 6

[19] Joshua 11, 10-11

Architectural Aids: Two Reviews

Sketch by Peter F. Anson

A review of Carl Van Treeck and Aloysius Croft, Symbols in the Church (Romanitas Press, 2021) and Peter F. Anson, Churches: Their Plan and Furnishing (Romanitas Press, 2021)

It is a fact without doubt that the Roman Missal represents in its entirety the loftiest and most important work in ecclesiastical literature, being that it shows forth with the greatest fidelity the life-history of the Church, that sacred poem in the making of which ha posto mano e cielo e terra [“Heaven and earth have set their hand,” Dante, Paradiso XXV,2].[1]

The temple of Solomon… was not alone the binding of the holy book; it was the holy book itself. On each one of its concentric walls, the priests could read the word translated and manifested to the eye, and thus they followed its transformations from sanctuary to sanctuary, until they seized it in its last tabernacle… Thus the word was enclosed in an edifice.[2]

Here is a riddle: What are the three most important books in Catholic life that are not books? The answer is: the Bible (which, despite its modern binding, is not a book but a library of works co-authored by the Holy Spirit ); the traditional Roman Missal (which, though also appearing in book form, is a set of instructions for a sacred action); and the church (a building that, like the Holy Temple, is meant to be read cover to cover).

But if it is true that the church, like all great architecture, is a book (Victor Hugo calls architecture the great book of humanity), then it takes training to read it. One must learn its alphabet and grammar, so to speak, in order to understand its sentences and paragraphs. And yet not many people today are artistically or architecturally literate. One of modern Catholicism’s deficiencies is the widespread inability of its faithful to decipher the symbols of their Faith.

It is for this reason that we can be grateful to Romanitas Press for republishing two volumes on the subject: Carl Van Treeck and Aloysius Croft’s 1936 Symbols in the Church and Peter F. Anson’s 1947 Churches: Their Plan and Furnishing.

Peter Anson (1889-1975) was a restless and talented soul. Born near the sea in Portsmouth, England and trained as an architect, he entered an Anglican Benedictine monastery in 1910. Three years later, he and his community submitted to the Holy See and became Catholic. Anson eventually became an Oblate and the monastery’s librarian; he also founded the Apostleship of the Sea for Catholic seafarers. After a breakdown in health, however, Anson decided to return to the world, and at the age of 35 he earned a living as an artist while seeing the world. He became a Franciscan Tertiary for a while in Italy but returned to his nomadic life before eventually settling down in a village of sailors and fisherman in Macduff, Scotland, where he could savor the life of the sea once more.

Anson wrote Church Plans as a practical guide for building and remodeling churches. The author wisely cautions against altering churches simply because they do not conform to contemporary sensibilities, and he frowns upon antiquarian and unimaginative resuscitations of earlier styles. His language of functionalism and his disdain for “fancy symbolism” are slightly troublesome, for they could be interpreted as an excuse to produce barren barns and call them churches. But Anson himself does not go in this direction: his meticulous illustrations and moderate counsel open the reader up to the riches of sacred architecture. Anson faithfully operates within the strictures of the 1917 Code of Canon Law and other Church legislation. His summary of these regulations is quite useful, although not all of it is still valid, such as the prohibition of electric lights for illuminating the altar (112).

As you may have guessed from his biography, Anson was an eccentric fellow, and Church Plans is an eccentric work. The author does not shy from offering his own advice in addition to official Church rules. Pulpits, he opines, should be elevated, made of wood (“it looks warmer and gives more color to a church”), and have a door (“many an eloquent preacher would feel far more at his ease if knew there was no danger of falling backwards”) and a solid front (“it is distracting to see the preacher’s cassock and feet”)(156). He also holds the odd view that if the weather were perfectly clement every day, we would not need churches at all but would celebrate Mass in an open field (3). He seems to forget that churches do not simply provide shelter from the rain but, among other things, help keep our minds from wandering.

The chief weakness of Church Plans is that it tries to square the circle between traditional architecture and modernist. Anson quotes passages that advocate placing the altar in the center of the church and advises a “happy mean” between the new view and the old (39). But how can you have a happy mean between an altar in the center of the church and an altar at the end: placing it three-quarters of the way in? Fortunately, Anson’s go-to authority on practical matters is St. Charles Borromeo, so he almost never ends up recommending something silly. And although he includes illustrations of modernist abominations (there is a bleak, free-standing altar for Mass facing the people from 1935 Germany), his own rich sketches betray the stark differences. After being enchanted by page after page of beautiful churches, seeing a design by Hans Herkommer or Eric Gill is like a punch in the gut.

Sketch by P.F. Anson. Yes!

Sketch by P.F. Anson. No!

Although Church Plans is thin on symbolic explanations, it is nonetheless useful for gaining a better understanding of the meaning and parts of a church. Equipped with this understanding, readers can then continue their education in sacred architecture with the works of men like Duncan Stroik.

Carl Van Treeck and Aloysius Croft’s Symbols in the Church was also written as a practical guide for artists and “ecclesiastical craftsmen” rather than students of symbolism (vi). Annotations are scarce as well as scholarly explanations of styles, historical context, etc. Like Church Plans, the images are illustrated with black-and-white sketches rather than photographs. The disadvantage of this choice is that the image is more dependent on the viewpoint of the artist; the advantage, however, is a unity of presentation, a greater beauty, and, in this case, the superior viewpoint of the artist, Carl Van Treeck. The basic idea behind Symbols in the Church is to introduce artists to “the beautiful picture language” of the Mystical Body of Christ (vi) so that they can adapt these symbols to contemporary use. Happily, the authors did not follow their own rule strictly but included some early representations of Christ that are no longer recognizable as such, e.g., a griffin, a peacock, a phoenix, and a bird in a cage (representing gestation in His mother’s womb!). As a result, the reader catches something of the breadth and depth of Catholic symbolism, which has varied from century to century and place to place.

Symbols in the Church begins with an interesting chapter on symbols and symbolism in which the authors argue that all Christian art must necessarily be symbolic because Christian art portrays some element of the supernatural. (“Sheer naturalness” they state earlier, is “the death of all liturgical art” [vi]). The rest of the book is divided according to subject matter: the Holy Trinity, God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, the Gospels and Evangelists, the Apostles, the Church, the Sacraments, the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Ecclesiastical Year, and the Four Last Things.

The entire book is a delight to peruse, but I was especially fascinated by the symbols of the Church, some of which surprised me (there are a lot more than just Noah’s Ark and Peter’s Barque). And I was struck by an image of the Last Judgment depicting scales, one of which is filled with the cross, the anchor, and the crown of thorns, the other of which is laden with jewels. The latter tilts upward: the virtues and sufferings of the faithful soul outweigh the riches and comforts of the world.

Plate XXXVIII of Symbols in the Church. Symbols of death (1 and 2), judgment (3 and 4), and damnation (5).

Church Plans and Symbols in the Church fit hand in glove: Anson more or less tells you how to build a church, and Van Treeck and Croft tell you how to decorate it. I recommend these books to anyone interested in Catholic art and architecture but especially as gifts to priests and planning committees in charge of building or remodeling churches. God willing, with aids like these, “writing” beautiful churches will once again become common.

Candle Artist Offers Unique “Theological Virtues” Design for Easter 2022

Gina Switzer, whose candle work David Clayon featured at NLM five years ago, continues to offer custom-made candles for liturgical use—Paschal candles, baptismal candles, and the like (see her website for a full listing and examples).

Her Paschal Candle design for 2022 symbolizes Faith, Hope, and Charity by means of the Peacock, the Artichoke, and the Pomegranate. The following explanation was shared with NLM by the artist.

“This year’s candle is ornate in design and more elusive in symbolism.

“The goal of this design is to draw the eye of the viewer by using a kind of sumptuous beauty to begin the questions; starting with, ‘Wait...what is this candle?’; then ‘Why peacocks?,’ etc. The peacock, artichoke, and pomegranate are ancient symbols with various meanings that are not readily apparent. I tried to create a candle that is beautiful and worthy of contemplation and of asking questions.

“The Peacock as a symbol of Faith. The peacock, stunningly beautiful in color, design, and flair is more than just a pretty animal. The ancients believed its flesh to be incorruptible because it does not rot like other flesh, but only dries out. St. Augustine attested to experimenting as such in The City of God. Early Christians baptized the peacock as a symbol of eternal life and used its image on sarcophagi and murals in the catacombs. The tail feathers of the peacock molt at the end of summer and begin to grow back around Christmas, returning in full glory and more brilliant than before around Easter. The feather cycle and the connection to eternal life makes the peacock a fitting symbol of the Resurrection. On this candle the peacocks drink from living water flowing from a font, the waters of baptism. They proclaim the theological virtue of Faith based in the Resurrection, for as Paul say in 1 Cor 15:14, ‘If Christ has not been raised, then our own preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain.’

“The Artichoke as a symbol of Hope. The artichoke is a symbol of hope because the tough, thorny leaves protect the soft, tender heart. The Christian interpretation goes back to Genesis: ‘Cursed is the ground because of you; in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life; thorns and thistles it brings forth to you’ (Gen. 3:17-18). The artichoke is a thistle. While this scripture verse truly bespeaks a terrible curse, these words should also give us hope! God could have justly punished Adam and Eve with instant physical death and damnation for their sin of disobedience. He did not. He removed them from the Garden but kept them alive as an act of His Mercy and to set the stage for our Savior, who would be born of their lineage. (Oh happy fault!) In toil we grow our food; it takes work to prepare foodstuffs to be eaten. Preparing an artichoke in particular takes perseverance and a bit of ‘hope.’ Trim the thorns. Boil the globe. Peel away each leaf. Scrape away the nascent flower. Finally, the small tender heart is revealed and the hope for a tasty morsel is revealed. In light of the Resurrection, it seems fitting to contemplate the hope of the transformation of a cursed thorny thistle into a delicacy, like our own thorny selves becoming holy through the grace of Christ’s redeeming work on the Cross. On this candle the artichoke is represented in various growth stages with the thistle flowers shooting up to meet the peacock tails as a call and response from Faith to Hope and Hope to Faith, each reaching to the other.

“The Pomegranate as a symbol of Charity. Like the peacock, the pomegranate as a symbol has deep roots in pre-Christian and Christian traditions. The multitude of seeds readily signify fertility in older traditions. But the deep red juice allows the Catholic imagination to see the flow of blood from Christ’s side pouring forth to bring new life and fecundity in the Church. An NLM article describes the pomegranate as a symbol of Charity because ‘it gives of what it contains that is most delicious and precious: it gives itself just like Christ did in his infinite charity through the Eucharist, born in his heart—that heart which he allowed to be opened for us through the striking of the spear of the soldier during his Passion, that the divine red liquid might flow forth.’ On this candle the pomegranate is centered on a symmetrical, ornate gold cross. It is also a feature in the bands representing the Alpha and the Omega, the peacock and the artichoke because, in the end, Charity remains.”

Gina noted that priests will sometimes “preach from the Paschal candle” at Mass, at baptisms and funerals. If the candle itself is decorated with a lot of symbolism, it makes it an obvious reference point for elucidation, and of course a homily about peacocks, artichokes, and pomegranates will be a lot more memorable than a homily in the style of Garrigou-Lagrange about the theological virtues.

Regina Candles (the name of Gina's enterprise) has multiple Paschal Candle designs as well as personalized baptismal candles, to promote and build a culture that recognizes children’s baptisms as their birth into the life and love of the Trinity. She encourages people to keep the candles in a known place and to light them once a year briefly on the anniversary of baptism as a way of reminding ourselves of this immense gift and mystery.