Critical scholars make much of the apparent conflict between the way the synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke) portray the events leading up to the Lord’s Passion and John’s account. The synoptics describe the Last Supper as a Passover meal, but John doesn’t. The synoptics place the crucifixion on the day after Passover, while John places it on the day before, at the hour when the lambs were sacrificed.

As if to complicate matters, some of the Syriac Fathers — those who were closest to the Jewish milieu of Jesus and the Apostles — spoke of the Last Supper taking place on a Tuesday, with the crucifixion on Friday.

Pope Benedict made something of a splash this year in his homily for the Mass of the Lord’s Supper. He proposed what some theologians and reporters called a “novel approach” to the problem. But it’s not really so novel. It was proposed in the mid-twentieth century by French scholar Annie Jaubert, who found in the Dead Sea Scrolls a key to reconciling the accounts of the Synoptics, John, and the Syriac Fathers. Here’s the Pope’s summary of the problem and solution:

It was on the eve of his Passion that Jesus together with his disciples celebrated this meal with its multiple meanings. This is the context in which we must understand the new Passover which he has given to us in the Blessed Eucharist.

There is an apparent discrepancy in the Evangelists’ accounts, between John’s Gospel on the one hand, and what on the other Mathew, Mark and Luke tell us.

According to John, Jesus died on the Cross at the very moment when the Passover lambs were being sacrificed in the temple. The death of Jesus and the sacrifice of the lambs coincided.
However, this means that he must have died the day before Easter and could not, therefore, have celebrated the Passover meal in person – this, at any rate, is how it appears.

According to the three Synoptic Gospels, the Last Supper of Jesus was instead a Passover meal into whose traditional form he integrated the innovation of the gift of his Body and Blood.

This contradiction seemed unsolvable until a few years ago. The majority of exegetes were of the opinion that John was reluctant to tell us the true historical date of Jesus’ death, but rather chose a symbolic date to highlight the deeper truth: Jesus is the new, true Lamb who poured out his Blood for us all.

In the meantime, the discovery of the [Dead Sea] Scrolls at Qumran has led us to a possible and convincing solution which, although it is not yet accepted by everyone, is a highly plausible hypothesis. We can now say that John’s account is historically precise.

Jesus truly shed his blood on the eve of Easter at the time of the immolation of the lambs.
In all likelihood, however, he celebrated the Passover with his disciples in accordance with the Qumran calendar, hence, at least one day earlier; he celebrated it without a lamb, like the Qumran community which did not recognize Herod’s temple and was waiting for the new temple.

Consequently, Jesus celebrated the Passover without a lamb – no, not without a lamb: instead of the lamb he gave himself, his Body and his Blood. Thus, he anticipated his death in a manner consistent with his words: “No one takes [my life] from me, but I lay it down of my own accord” (Jn 10: 18).

At the time when he offered his Body and his Blood to the disciples, he was truly fulfilling this affirmation. He himself offered his own life. Only in this way did the ancient Passover acquire its true meaning.

In his Eucharistic catecheses, St John Chrysostom once wrote: Moses, what are you saying? Does the blood of a lamb purify men and women? Does it save them from death? How can the blood of an animal purify people, save people or have power over death? In fact, Chrysostom continues, the immolation of the lamb could be a merely symbolic act, hence, the expression of expectation and hope in One who could accomplish what the sacrifice of an animal was incapable of accomplishing.

My friend Scott Hahn agrees with the pope on this question. Scott touched on the Jaubert solution in his essay The Fourth Cup, which I heartily recommend:

I find the supposed conflict between the synoptics and John is resolved to my satisfaction by Annie Jaubert, The Date of the Last Supper (Staten Island: Alba House, 1965). She argues two calendars were operative in Christ’s time and accepts the ancient Syriac testimony of a “Holy Tuesday” institution of the Eucharist. Granted, there are difficulties in that, but her work helps harmonize the five trials of Jesus (Annas, Caiaphas, Pilate, Herod, and Pilate), which fit much easier into a Tuesday to-Friday time frame than in a Thursday-midnight-to-morning frame.

This article points to some excellent online patristic and biblical resources: The Wired Scholar: Five Free Tools You May Not Know About.

Unless you’ve been living in the fourth century, you’ve certainly heard by now that Francis Beckwith resigned this week as president of the Evangelical Theological Society. A week earlier, the philosopher had returned to full communion with the Roman Catholic Church. But since there are certainly readers of this blog who have applied for permanent-residency visas in the fourth century, I figured I’d better post the news. Dr. Beckwith spoke with Christianity Today about the whys and wherefors. Of course the Fathers played an important role:

I do think we have to admit that the way that we read Scripture is through the ideas and concepts that have been passed down to us by a great tradition.

Look, you’re not going to come up with the Nicene Creed by just picking up the Bible. Does the Bible contribute to our understanding? Absolutely it does; the Nicene Creed is consistent with Scripture. But you needed a church that had a self-understanding in order to articulate that in any clear way. I am not saying that necessarily means that you have to be a Catholic. But we have to understand that the Reformation only makes sense against the backdrop of a tradition that was already there. Calvin and Luther did not go back and re-write Nicea. They took it for granted. There’s nothing wrong with conceding that and celebrating it and reading those authors.

Looking at tradition would also help evangelicals learn about Christian liturgical traditions, like Eastern Orthodoxy and Catholicism, that many evangelicals reject because they say liturgy is unbiblical. When did these practices come to be? It turns out many of them came to be very early on in church history when people were close historically to the apostles themselves. There must be something to these practices that the early Christians thought was perfectly consistent with what they had received from the apostles.

That may not convince them that it is right, but at least it would show them that it was widely held and that Christians who were right there on top of the early church practiced them. That was quite liberating for me, when I became aware of the writings of some of the church fathers and especially the liturgical aspects. Some of the folks who have read my blog post on my return to the church have misunderstood my reading of the church fathers. They think I went back and tried to find theology, and that really wasn’t it for me. It was the practices of the church that were more important. I did some research years ago on the relationship of Greek philosophy and the Christian doctrine of God, and that was very helpful. But that’s when I first began reading the fathers. One finds the practice of penance very early on during the times in which Christians were being persecuted. Some of the Christians who had denied their faith had to publicly repent for their sins and suffer penance. This was considered to be perfectly consistent with a doctrine of faith.

We want to reward people who promote the reading of the Fathers so well. So buy the man’s books!

Politically Correct Death: Answering the Arguments for Abortion Rights

Are You Politically Correct?: Debating America’s Cultural Standards

Relativism: Feet Firmly Planted in Mid-Air

Ben C. Smith has posted another installment in his series on the ancient canons of the New Testament. This one covers the list in the Apostolic Constitutions — which includes many of the familiar books, plus the works attributed to Clement of Rome.

Archaeology magazine directs our attention to the latest on the discovery of King Herod’s tomb: news with photos from AFP; a drawing of the old guy’s sarcophagus; and a monumental staircase built especially for Herod’s funeral.

In what do we find Herod’s greatness? His buildings, of course, like the grand, reconstructed Temple in Jerusalem. But he was truly prodigious in his cruelty. The gospels are not the only record of his perverted deeds. Many of his contemporaries noticed. The old Catholic Encyclopedia provides a rap sheet, largely compiled from Josephus. (I’ve further condensed it here.)

During the first period he secured himself on the throne by removing rivals of the Hasmonean line. He put to death Hyrcanus, grandfather of [Herod’s wife] Mariamne, and Aristobulus her brother, whom though but seventeen years old he had appointed high-priest. Their only offence was that they were very popular. Mariamne also was executed in 29 B. C.; and her mother Alexandra, 28 B. C. He put to death even his own sons, Aristobulus and Alexander (6 B. C.), whom Antipater, his son by Doris, had accused of plotting against their father’s life. This same Antipater was himself accused and convicted of having prepared poison for his father, and put to death. The last joy of the dying king was afforded by the letter from Rome authorizing him to kill his son; five days later, like another Antiochus under a curse, he died. In the hot springs of Callirrhoe, east of the Dead Sea, the king sought relief from the sickness that was to bring him to the grave. When his end drew near, he gave orders to have the principal men of the country shut up in the hippodrome at Jericho and slaughtered as soon as he had passed away, that his grave might not be without the tribute of tears.

The Emperor Augustus — on hearing that Herod killed his children, but strove to keep kosher — observed that he’d rather be Herod’s pig than his son.

So, you see, St. Matthew was actually pretty kind to the guy. Here’s St. Peter Chyrsologus again:

[Herod told the Magi] “Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him bring me word.” Appropriately did Herod say, “Bring me word,” for the one who hastens to come to Christ always brings a word of renunciation to the devil.

Adrian Murdoch leads us to some interesting links on the hermit life in late antiquity.

Adrian also draws some very funny management lessons from the Battle of Thermopylae. This article’s a fine follow-up to his earlier business lessons from the barbarian tribes.

Why didn’t my employers bring in consultants like this guy when I was working in corporate America?

You still have about a week to subscribe to Touchstone magazine in time for my review essay on two of Adrian’s books.

Tony Chartrand-Burke has posted a fun page of real tabloid treatments of the Christian apocrypha. He includes images of some priceless front pages: “Found! Christ’s Lost Scrolls,” “Christ’s Passion…in Mary Magdalene’s Own Words,” “Lost Gospel Claims Da Vinci Code is for Real,” “NASA Decodes Lost Gospels.”

It makes “Dewey Defeats Truman” look so lame.

Here’s the full text (Zenit translation) of the pope’s second address on Origen:

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Last Wednesday’s catechesis was dedicated to the important figure of Origen, the Alexandrian doctor of the second and third century. In that catechesis we looked at the life and literary works of the Alexandrian master, focusing on his “three-pronged reading” of the Bible, which is the animating center of all of his work.

I left out two aspects of Origen’s doctrine, which I consider among the most important and timely, so that I could speak about them today. I am referring to his teachings on prayer and the Church.

In truth, Origen — author of an important and ever relevant treatment “On Prayer” — constantly mixes his exegetic and theological works with experiences and suggestions relating to prayer. Despite the theological wealth found in his thought, his is never a purely academic treatment; it is always founded on the experience of prayer, on contact with God.

In his view, understanding Scripture requires more than mere study. It requires an intimacy with Christ and prayer. He is convinced that the privileged path to knowing God is love and that one cannot give an authentic “scientia Christi” without falling in love with him.

In his “Letter to Gregory” he writes: “Dedicate yourself to the ‘lectio’ of the divine Scriptures; apply yourself to this with perseverance. Practice ‘lectio’ with the intention of believing and being pleasing to God.

“If during the ‘lectio’ you find yourself in front of a closed door, knock and the guardian will open it for you, the guardian of whom Jesus said: ‘The advocate will teach you everything.’ Apply yourself in this way to ‘lectio divina’ — search, with unshakable faith in God, the sense of the divine Scriptures, which is amply revealed.

“You must not be satisfied with only knocking and searching: To understand the things of God, ‘oratio’ is absolutely necessary. To encourage us to do this, the Savior did not only say: ‘Seek and you shall find,’ and ‘Knock and it shall be opened unto you,’ but he also added: ‘Ask and you shall receive'” (Ep. Gr. 4).

One can see clearly the “primordial role” that Origen played in the history of “lectio divina.” Bishop Ambrose of Milan — who would learn to read the Scritpures from Origen’s works — introduced it in the West, to hand it on to Augustine and the successive monastic tradition.

As we mentioned earlier, the highest level of knowing God, according to Origen, comes from loving him. It is the same with human relationships: One only really knows the other if there is love, if they open their hearts. To show this he illustrates the significance given at that time to the verb in Hebrew “to know,” used to show the act of human love: “Adam knew Eve, his wife and she conceived” (Genesis 4:1).

This suggests that union in love procures the most authentic knowledge. As man and woman are “two that become one flesh,” in the same way, God and the believer become “two that become one in the spirit.”

In this way, the prayer of the Alexandrian reaches the highest mystical levels, as is shown by his “Homilies on the Song of Songs.”

In one passage of the first homily, Origen confesses: “Often — God is a witness to this — I felt that the Bridegroom drew very near to me; afterward he would leave suddenly, and I could not find that which I searched for. Again I have the desire for his presence, and he returns, and when he appears, when I hold him in my hands, he leaves again and once he is gone I begin again to search for him” (Hom. Cant. 1:7).

I recall what my venerable predecessor wrote, as a true witness, in “Novo Millennio Ineunte,” where he showed the faithful “how prayer can progress, as a genuine dialogue of love, to the point of rendering the person wholly possessed by the divine Beloved, vibrating at the Spirit’s touch, resting filially within the Father’s heart … becoming,” John Paul II continued, “a journey totally sustained by grace, which nonetheless demands an intense spiritual commitment and is no stranger to painful purifications. But it leads, in various possible ways, to the ineffable joy experienced by the mystics as ‘nuptial union'” (No. 33).

We come to Origen’s teaching on the Church, and precisely — within it — on the priesthood of the laity. As the Alexandrian affirms in his ninth Homily on Leviticus, “this discourse is important for all of us” (Hom. Lev. 9:1).

In the same homily Origen — referring to Aaron’s prohibition, after the death of his two children, to enter the Holy of Holies “at any time” (Leviticus 16:2) — he admonishes the faithful: “From this we can see that if one enters the sanctuary, without the proper preparation, not dressed in priestly dress, without having prepared the prescribed offerings and having offered them to God, he will die. …This discourse is meant for everyone. It guarantees that we know how to approach God’s altar.

“Or do you not know that the priesthood was given to God’s Church and to all believers? Listen to how Peter speaks to the faithful: ‘Elect race,’ he says, ‘royal priesthood, holy nation, a people bought by God.’ You have priesthood because you are a ‘priestly people,’ and therefore you must offer sacrifice to God. … But so that you may offer it worthily, you need pure vestments, distinct from the common vestments of other men, and you need the divine fire” (ibid.).

On one hand the “girded loins” and the “priestly vestments,” which represent purity and honest living, and on the other the “perpetually lit lamp,” which represents the faith and science of the Scriptures — these become the necessary conditions for the exercise of the priestly ministry. These conditions — right conduct, but above all, the welcoming and study of the Word — establish a genuine “hierarchy of holiness” in the common priesthood of all Christians.

Origen places martyrdom at the top of this path of perfection. In the ninth Homily on Leviticus he alludes to the “fire for the sacrifice,” that is, the faith and knowledge of Scripture, which must never be extinguished on the altar of he who exercises the priesthood.

He then adds: “Each one of us has within us” not only fire, but “also the sacrifice, and from his sacrifice he lights the altar, so that it will burn forever. If I renounce everything I possess and take up the cross and follow Christ, I offer my sacrifice on God’s altar; and if I give my body over to be burned, having charity, and meriting the glory of martyrdom, I offer my sacrifice on God’s altar” (Hom. Lev. 9:9).

This path of perfection “is for everyone,” so that “the eyes of our heart” will contemplate wisdom and truth, which is Jesus Christ. Preaching on the discourse of Jesus of Nazareth — when “the eyes of all in the synagogue were upon him” (Luke 4:16-30) — Origen seems to be speaking to us: “Even today, if you want, in this gathering, your eyes can gaze upon the Savior.

“When you turn your heart’s gaze to contemplate wisdom and truth and the only Son of God, your eyes will see God. O happy gathering, that of whom Scripture speaks as having their eyes fixed on him! How I would like that this gathering receive a similar witness, that the eyes of all, of the unbaptized and of the faithful, of women and men and young children, not the eyes of the body, but those of the soul, look at Jesus! … Impressed upon us is the light of your face, O Lord, to whom belongs glory and power forever and ever. Amen!” (Hom. Lc. 32:6).

As if on cue, Ignatius Press has re-released Henri de Lubac’s History and Spirit: The Understanding of Scripture According to Origen.

Pope Benedict XVI once again made Origen the subject of his Wednesday audience. Here’s the Vatican’s English-language summary.

Last week we looked at the life and writings of Origen of Alexandria. Today, I would like to consider two significant themes in his work. Origen’s teaching on scripture greatly influenced the Church’s rich tradition of lectio divina. Through the prayerful and faith-filled reading of the scriptures, we are drawn in love to mystical union with God. Just as a man and a woman become “one flesh” in marriage, so—in prayer—the Church and each of her members become one in the Spirit with the divine Bridegroom. Regarding the Church, Origen teaches us the importance of the priesthood of all the faithful. As a member of this common priesthood, every believer is called to put on “priestly attire” by living a pure and virtuous life. Loving intimacy with God through prayer and the offering of an upright and moral life—these are two of Origen’s most important lessons for us; these are the ways we keep the “gaze of our hearts” fixed on the “Wisdom and Truth who is Jesus Christ.” God bless you all!

Zenit should have a full translation up shortly. Asia News gives it more extensive news coverage (thanks to Amy for the lead).