Sunday, December 17, 2006

Epiphany, 1/7/07


Matthew 2:1-12
Isaiah 60:1-6
Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6

Themes:
Visit of the Magi
revelation to the nations

Context:
It’s still a brand New Year, 2007.
School starts after Christmas break.

Text of Readings from USCCB

Resources from "The Text This Week"

Commentary from BOW

Saturday, March 05, 2005

Fifth Sunday of Lent, 3/13/05

Preliminary Notes.

Please be aware that this is not a "draft text" for a homily, but my own thoughts as I am preparing. I welcome comments, suggestions, and further reflections.

Readings for the Fifth Sunday of Lent

Scripture References:

Gospel: John 11:1-45
First Reading: Ezekiel 37:12-14
Second Reading: Romans 8:8-11

(notes to follow)

Fourth Sunday of Lent, 3/6/05

See the final text of the homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too.

(No notes were posted for this monily.)

Third Sunday of Lent, 2/17/05

See the final text of the homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too.

(No notes were posted for this homily.)

Second Sunday of Lent, 2/20/05

See the final text of the homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too.

(No notes were posted for this homily.)

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

First Sunday of Lent, 2/13/05

See the final text of the homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too.




Preliminary Notes.

Please be aware that this is not a "draft text" for a homily, but my own thoughts as I am preparing. I welcome comments, suggestions, and further reflections.

Readings for the First Sunday of Lent

Scripture References:

Gospel: Matthew 4:1-11
First Reading: Genesis 2:7-9; 3:1-7
Second Reading: Romans 5:12-19

The temptation of Jesus is fundamentally the same as the temptation of Adam and Eve: to become one’s own god. Thus Jesus begins his ministry in a deeply symbolic way. By overcoming the same temptation that our first parents yielded to, Jesus brought to the fore both the field and the focus of his mission: liberation from sin and its destructive and enslaving effects.

As we begin Lent, the first Sunday every year invites us to consider temptation in our own life. It might seem that we don’t face the same temptations as Jesus did; after all, none of us has the power to do any of those things! And yet the heart of Jesus’ temptations was to misuse the power that he had to serve his own gratification rather than God’s intentions. When we look at it that way, we have to ask ourselves whether we use the gifts God has given us for ourselves or for him.

Here's my Pastor's Desk column for this weekend's parish bulletin. I think Michael Casey has some insights that may give more direction to my homily musings:


Several weeks ago I was on retreat at St. Andrew’s Abbey in Valyermo, where the mountains meet the desert between Wrightwood and Palmdale. There, I wrestled a bit with this question, because the ordinary answers—prayer, fasting, and almsgiving—didn’t seem satisfying. Giving up stuff that I don’t need anyway? Well, there’s some merit in that, but is Jesus asking for more? Praying more? Well, yes, but that’s always necessary. Opening my heart more to the poor? Again, yes that’s important. But there still seemed to be something I was missing.

As I often do, I looked to the question, “What would Jesus do?” And in turn, the only way to answer that question is to examine, “What did Jesus do?” We usually answer ask—and therefore answer—that question as, “What would I do if I were Jesus?” or “What do I think Jesus ought to do?” A very different question indeed.

A book I bought at St. Andrew’s (Michael Casey, Fully Human, Fully Divine: an interactive Christology) helped me to explore that question. If we look at the experience of Jesus in the desert—this Sunday’s Gospel—the real job of Lent is to struggle with temptation. What did Jesus do in the desert? Let’s listen to Michael Casey, a Cistercian monk and insightful spiritual writer, and let him be our guide:

For Jesus to live consciously as God’s Son here on earth necessarily involves a struggle. To be with God means contending with “Satan” who, in the Old Testament, is not so much an anti-God but the adversary of humanity, the recorder and accuser of every misdeed. Our relationship with God is constantly undermined by the querulous murmur, “How can you be a child of God when you do such things?” The loving trust to which we give the name “faith” allows us to affirm God’s unconditional love without denying or dissimulating our own guilt. We are, at the same time, sinners and yet saved. … Jesus is the one who, par excellence, holds together these contrary realities.

Far from being shielded from this perennial contest, Jesus is flung into it. The desert is a harsh and hostile environment, considered in the ancient world to be the lair of demons. This is no romantic escape into golden sunsets and solitary meditation, but a life-and-death struggle, the outcome of which is not immediately clear to the principal protagonist. Nor are the ground rules of such warfare predictably defined. Temptation rarely involves a full frontal assault on God by open rebellion. More often it is a matter of putting God’s claims on hold “temporarily,” while other more immediate matters are attended to . God is absent from our awareness: we are directly concerned with other more tangible realities, like food, possessions, and reputation. … We know from our own experience that the overt content of temptation is often irrelevant, just as eating the fruit in Eden was a harmless enough activity. The malign meaning of the forbidden act is to be found in its capacity to rupture the relationship of dependence on God. An action becomes a sin when it is a means of claiming an inappropriate autonomy. Jesus’ lifelong temptation was to allow his mission from the Father to become dormant, to do nothing, to spare himself the trouble, to take life easy. What a sin of omission would that have been!

The Fourth Gospel makes it abundantly clear that Jesus’ chosen priority in life was the accomplishment of the Father’s plan of salvation: “My food is that I do the will of the One who sent me and bring his work to completion” (Jn 4:34). But it was not a choice lightly made. “Now my very soul trembles. Should I say, ‘Father, save me from this Hour’? No, it is for this that I have come to this Hour” (Jn 12:27). Let us not water down the heroism of Jesus in pursuing his mission.

… From the outside, Jesus’ life may have appeared to be like a boat tranquilly holding its course in midstream. The inner reality, as suggested by [the temptation] narrative, was more energetic—a constant battle to hold the rudder steady against contrary currents, with much vigilance and heavy toil necessary to avoid coming aground. (Fully Human, Fully Divine, pp. 44-46.)

For me, at least, that last sentence pretty well lays out my task for Lent. What is yours?

May this season of Lent by a time of surprising grace in the midst of the struggles of life for you and all those you love. I love you.
Fr. Tom Welbers.

5th Sunday in Ordinary Time, 2/6/05

See the final text of the homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too.

Preliminary Notes. Please be aware that this is not a "draft text" for a homily, but my own thoughts as I am preparing. I welcome comments, suggestions, and further reflections.

Readings for the 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Scripture References:

Gospel: Matthew 5:13-16
First Reading: Isaiah 58:7-10
Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 2:1-5

The first thing that stands out for me is that, after giving the Beatitudes as the new commandments of the New Law, Jesus does not call himself “the light of the world” but he calls us, his followers the light of the world. (Interesting and significant that he did not say this to a select band of disciples but to “the crowds” – Matthew 5:1-2 is a bit ambiguous about this, but the conclusion of the Sermon on the Mount, 7:28, makes this very clear. What is the significance of this?) That’s so revolutionary I wonder how many of us really believe it. So few of us live that way. It takes a lot of faith, doesn’t it? I wonder what the world would be like if we did. Supposing we did make as the central, guiding principle of everything we say and do: “Your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.” What would our world be like if we did that? How would your own life change?

The first reading is perfectly paired with the Gospel, because in it Isaiah shows the kind of “good deeds” that are needed in order to be light shining before all. Although found in “Third Isaiah” chapters 56-66), written as the “Book of Consolation” to the vanquished people straggling back from Exile to rebuild Jerusalem, these verses are part of a section more properly belonging to “First Isaiah” (chapters 1-39), which were address to the nation before exile, filled with pride and arrogance, heedless of poverty and oppression right within their midst. Any parallels in our society today?

In the second reading, Paul typifies the humility that is needed in order to be light, that is, to shine with God’s light, not one’s own. “When I came to you” alludes to the events recounted in Acts 17:16-18:11. In Athens, the philosophical and intellectual center of the world, Paul tried to use philosophical reasoning to teach about Christ to the Athenians; he failed miserably and was deeply humiliated. He went from there to Corinth, a port city about 50 miles west of Athens, a place renowned for its immorality. There he gave up attempts at logical argument, and simply placed the cross of Jesus Christ at the center of his witness in a spirit of humility. And he – or perhaps better, the Lord working through him – successfully established a thriving and vibrant community of Christians. The value of humility seems to be that it enables us to make sure it is the Lord’s light, not our own, that is shining through us.

There is an old saying, “You can’t attain humility without being humiliated.” What is your experience of humiliation? Do you let it make you humble, or do you get prideful and spiteful?

Sunday, January 09, 2005

4th Sunday in Ordinary Time Homily, 1/30/05

See the final text of the homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too. (Please note that the Together in Mission appeal guest speaker, Dr. Karen Kallay, principal of Ascension School in south Los Angeles, is included.)

Preliminary Notes. Please be aware that this is not a "draft text" for a homily, but my own thoughts as I am preparing. I welcome comments, suggestions, and further reflections.

Readings for the 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Scripture References:

Gospel: Matthew 5:1-12
First Reading: Zephaniah 2:3; 3:12-13
Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 1:26-31

This is "Commitment Sunday" for Together in Mission. There will be a guest speaker at the homily time of all the Masses. I will give a brief introduction and homiletic connection with the Sunday Scriptures. Our speaker is Dr. Karen Kallay, Principal of Ascension Catholic School in Los Angeles, one of the parishes and schools which depend on TIM subsidy.

Most Catholics think they are familiar with the Beatitudes, but how many can name half of them, much less really understand them? . I don't think "familiarity breeds contempt" so much as "familiarity breeds inattentiveness." We think we know all that's worth knowing, so we tune them out. Is there any way we can hear these beatitiudes with new ears? Especially in light of the needs of our Catholic brothers and sisters (fellow members of Christ's body!) who are assisted by Together in Mission?

3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Homily, 1/23/05

See the final text of the homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too.




Preliminary Notes. Please be aware that this is not a "draft text" for a homily, but my own thoughts as I am preparing. I welcome comments, suggestions, and further reflections.

Readings for the 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Scripture References:

Gospel: Matthew 4:12-23
First Reading: Isaiah 8:23-9:3
Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 1:10-13, 17

This is also "Announcement Sunday" for Together in Mission. All the Presiders should try to direct their homily toward the theme of the TIM appeal. Commitment Sunday will be next week, and we will have a guest speaker.

The message of Paul to the Corinthians is so important today, with so many divisions increasing in our Church and world. It is Jesus Christ alone, not any ideology or label, whether "political correctness" of the "left" or "orthodoxy" of the "right," who is the foundation of unity. True unity will not be achieved by the victory of one way of thinking over another, but by all of us together hearing and submitting to the call of Jesus to follow him. What are the implications of this today?

It may be helpful to look at some of the religious and social ideologies that divided people in Jesus' day to shed some light on our own. Jenee Woodard's wonderful site, The Text This Week, can probably supply lots of resources for exploring this theme.

The homily notes for Together in Mission have this to say:

The gospel for January 23rd speaks of the light of Christ. He is living out the prophecy of Isaiah by bringing His light to replace the darkness that has overshadowed the lives of the people. Here, at the beginning of His public life, He summons those who will be His apostles. One of the common responses of those who heard His call is that they gave up almost all of their possessions to follow him. That fact is that it was probably easier to to that when you saw the face of Jesus, watched His miracles and heard His teachings directly from Him. It is, no doubt, a more difficult act of faith to hear His call and to follow His teachings 2,000 years after His death and resurrection.

(Frankly, I beg to differ with that. The Gospel accounts are pretty clear about difficulty even his closest followers had in recognizing and understanding him. We actually have 2000 years of experience of people doing this to help us. Sadly, lots of folks seem to ignore that, and try to reinvent the "Christian wheel," as if the literal text of Scripture were all we had to go on. Scripture has to be read in light of its origins as well as the lived expereience of Christians throughout the ages. TW)

"Come follow Me" takes on a whole new meaning in a society that is so inner directed ... a society that is all about "me." This attitude makes it difficult to recognize the light of Christ in our own lives much less in the lives of others. The challenge is to recognize what God has given us ... everything that we have and everything that we are. We need to look to the light of Christ in our lives. Then it becomes easier to see hwo blessed we are. Then, we must give a part of what have to further the spread of Christ's teachings to others.

The Together in Mission Campaign provides an opportunity to provide for ministry, education and services in the 32 parishes and 46 schools that will receive financial support from Together in mission this year. When parishioners receive the campaign mailing or are asked to make a pledge in the pews next weekend, they reflect the light of Christ in the darkness of these difficult times.

Uhm . . . Pretty insipid stuff IMHO. Certainly we can do better than that. Any comments?

2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time Homily, 1/16/05

See the final text of the homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too.



Preliminary Notes. Please be aware that this is not a "draft text" for a homily, but my own thoughts as I am preparing. I welcome comments, suggestions, and further reflections.

Readings for the 2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Scripture References:

Gospel: John 1:29-34
First Reading: Isaiah 49:3, 5-6
Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 1:1-3

The Lamb of God. It doesn't really mean what we usually think.

What do you think? What would John the Baptist's hearers have thought about that expression? How does it fit Jesus? When we say it in the Mass ("Lamb of God, who take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us / grant us peace"; "This is the Lamb of God . . ."), what does it mean?

Some scholars believe that the "Lamb of God" may have already been a liturgical expression by the time John's Gospel was written. The implication of this is that this phrase in the Gospel echoed what Christians were already saying (or singing) and hearing every time they celebrated the Eucharist. We often think that elements in our liturgy come from Scripture, but the reverse is almost certainly true as well. There is little documentation of early liturgical texts to prove this, but the formal and poetic style of many passages in the Gospels and the other writings of the New Testament indicates that their origin (or at least their transmission prior to being written down as Scripture) was in the "living word" celebrated in the Christian eucharistic assembly.

"Lamb of God" compares Jesus to the lamb of the Passover meal (the Seder), in which the liberation of God's people from slavery in Egypt wa celebrated annually. This was a home celebration, a meal, in which the ritually slaughtered and sacrificed lamb was eaten as the sign of the participants' continued participation in God's saving acts, forever made present ot his people. It is significant that the ritual Temple sacrifices in which animals were slaughtered and burned (holocaust) was not the type or prefigurement of Jesus' sacrifice, but the sacrifical meal.

Therefore, while the connection of this reading with Baptism is clear enough, there is also an important Eucharistic connection. This Jesus, of whom John testified and whose story is told every time Christians assemble, was being received in the meal of the Lord's supper as the Lamb of the New Passover. From the start, Christians were aware that they were not so much "offering sacrifices" at the Mass, but joining intimately with the one sacrifice of Christ by eating his body "given up for us" and drinking his blood "the blood of the New Covenant poured out for the forgiveness of sins."

At this the first Sunday Mass of Ordinary Time, the theme of the relationship between Baptism and Eucharist is established. A good thought for the Year of the Eucharist. My homily will probably try to further unfold that theme.

Saturday, January 01, 2005

Baptism of the Lord Homily, 1/9/05

See final homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too.


Preliminary Notes:

Readings for the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord




Scripture references:

Gospel: Matthew 3:13-17
First Reading: Isaiah 42:1-4, 6-7
Second Reading: Acts 10:34-38

Check out one of the most ancient images of the Baptism of Christ, one of the mosaics in the Baptistry at Ravenna, 5th century, and compare it with the more familiar images we have, for example, one by Andrea del Verrocchio/Leonardo da Vinci or by Tintoretto.

Notice the difference? Yeah, Jesus is in the water (and obviously naked) in the more ancient image, while a little bit of water is poured over his head in the more modern (15th century) pictures. What is that telling us about the evolution of how we perform baptism, from full immersion (signifying immersion into the death and burial of Christ) to pouring from a little pot (signifying, well, a rather superficial washing).

I may plan a homily with media for this one.

Of course, the outward form of the baptism is secondary, yet important as it conveys and supports the meaning. "A little dab'll do ya" may well be valid, but it does not speak very eloquently of the riches of sacramental Christian initiation. Remember the old Baltimore Catechism definition of sacraments? "A sacrament is an outward sign, instituted by Christ, to give grace." The outward sign comes first, and its quality does make a difference

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

Epiphany Homily, 1/2/05

See final homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too.




These were the preliminary notes, posted beforehand:

Readings for the Solemnity of the Epiphany

Scripture References:

Gospel -- Matthew 2:1-12
First Reading -- Isaiah 60:1-6
Second Reading -- Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6

The "chief priests and the scribes" were the professional "holy people" of that day. They were unmoved by the news of a newborn King that the Magi brought. These foreign pagan astrologers were moved enough to change their agendas and invest their wholes lives in the news brought by the star.

The great Danish philosopher, Soren Kirkegaard, has some pointed reflections on this:

Although the scribes could explain where the Messiah should be born, they remained quite unperturbed in Jerusalem. They did not accompany the Wise Men to seek him. Similarly we may know the whole of Christianity, yet make no movement. The power that moved heaven and earth leaves us completely unmoved.

What a difference! The three kings had only a rumor to go by. But it moved them to make that long journey. The scribes were much better informed, much better versed. They sat and studied the Scriptures like so many dons, but it did not make them move. Who had the more truth? The three kings who followed a rumor, or the scribes who remained sitting with all their knowledge?

What a vexation it must have been for the kings, that the scribes who gave them the news they wanted remained quiet in Jerusalem! We are being mocked, the kings might have thought. For indeed what an atrocious self-contradiction that the scribes should have the knowledge and yet remain still. This is as bad as if a person knows all about Christ and his teachings, and his own life expresses the opposite. We are tempted to suppose that such a person wishes to fool us, unless we admit that he is only fooling himself.

We -- I as a Catholic priest and pastor, and, frankly, anyone who is interested in reading this -- we are the "professional holy people" of our time. Are we missing the revelation of God's work today because we are so convinced of our own righteousness?

New Year's -- Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God, 1/1/04

See final homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too.



These were the preliminary notes, posted beforehand:

Note: this homily will be used for New Year's Eve 11:15 pm Mass.

Readings of the Day

Scripture References:

Gospel: Luke 2:16-21
First Reading: Numbers 6:22-27
Second Reading: Galatians 4:4-7


See Pope John Paul II, Message for World Day of Peace, 2005.

"This common grammar of the moral law requires ever greater commitment and responsibility in ensuring that the life of individuals and of peoples is respected and advanced. In this light, the evils of a social and political nature which afflict the world, particularly those provoked by outbreaks of violence, are to be vigorously condemned. I think immediately of the beloved continent of Africa, where conflicts which have already claimed millions of victims are still continuing. Or the dangerous situation of Palestine, the Land of Jesus, where the fabric of mutual understanding, torn by a conflict which is fed daily by acts of violence and reprisal, cannot yet be mended in justice and truth. And what of the troubling phenomenon of terrorist violence, which appears to be driving the whole world towards a future of fear and anguish? Finally, how can we not think with profound regret of the drama unfolding in Iraq, which has given rise to tragic situations of uncertainty and insecurity for all?

"To attain the good of peace there must be a clear and conscious acknowledgment that violence is an unacceptable evil and that it never solves problems. "Violence is a lie, for it goes against the truth of our faith, the truth of our humanity. Violence destroys what it claims to defend: the dignity, the life, the freedom of human beings". What is needed is a great effort to form consciences and to educate the younger generation to goodness by upholding that integral and fraternal humanism which the Church proclaims and promotes. This is the foundation for a social, economic and political order respectful of the dignity, freedom and fundamental rights of each person. "

Why don't we, who claim to Catholics, heed this? How would we be different if we did? "Violence destroys what is claims to defend: the dignity, the life, the freedom of human beings." Why do we keep justifying our reposnse to violence with further violence? War? Abortion? Capital punishment? What are the altenatives?

Thursday, December 23, 2004

Holy Family Homily 12/26/04

Here are the readings followed by the homily final text, followed by preliminary notes I posted as I prepared it. Any comments are still welcome.

Sunday Liturgical Readings

Feast of the Holy Family

Individual Scripture References

Gospel: Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23
First Reading: Sirach 3:2-6, 12-14
Second Reading: Colossians 3:12-21 (or 3:12-17)



Often Jesus, Mary, and Joseph are pictured as a "model" family in terms that impossible for any real family to identify with — the virginal relationship of husband and wife, a harmony unmarred by normal disagreements and tensions, and a child-God who never protested being washed behind the ears. The down-to-earth picture in this Gospel speaks directly to situations that are faced in some way by the majority of families in our society today: poverty, displacement, alienation, and fear. Joseph, Mary, and Jesus are a model family because they experienced the same struggles we encounter.

After returning to Nazareth, what was the family life of Jesus like? For sure, it was not the way it is usually pictured in statues, paintings, or holy cards. Gospel references to the “brothers and sisters” of Jesus give us a clue. These were either children of Joseph by a previous marriage or were other relatives, cousins or other who may have lived in the same household. Perhaps these brothers and sisters were a mixture of both.

It’s not unlikely that Joseph could have been married before, fathered children, and his wife had died, possibly in childbirth as was not uncommon in those days. In analyzing the words used to describe family relationships in Greek and Aramaic, many scholars also conclude that the word used in the Gospels for “brother,” in Greek, “adelphoi,” can just as well refer to other relatives or even members of a close-knit community. The one thing that’s just about certain is that Jesus was not raised in a tiny quiet three-person household. The childhood of Jesus was a lot more normal, involving intensive living together of a good number of extended family members, than most of the images on holy cards would suggest. It was dynamic, vibrant, and noisy, with undoubtedly lots of conflicts as well as intense loyalty and support -- all of which are characteristic of both ancient and modern families of Mediterranean cultures. And immensely loving, of course. If you saw the movie “My Big Fat Greek Wedding,” you caught a glimpse of that kind of family living.

Where the Holy Family then serves as a model for us today, is not in their difference, but in their similarity to most family situations that we face. When husband and wife commit themselves to each other, to be faithful in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, until death,” they are establishing a community of life in which new life is welcome. What any real commitment requires is a willingness to lay aside one’s own priorities and agendas, and put the good of others before one’s own. This can be done only if God is truly at the center.

And so our question this week is, can we do that? In our family life, in our relationships with others, in our community, can we let go of our own agendas, and let God be the Lord of our lives?



Notes I made in preparation for the homily.

Today (Wednesday, 12/22) I had to take a fairly long trip in the car and I listened to a wonderful recording of Berlioz L'Enfance du Christ (The Infancy of Christ. (This rare recording of Jean Martinon conducting soloists and the orchestra/chorus of the French National Radio is available at a bargain price from "Locked in the Vault Reissues" --scroll down to Vol 71. The text is freely available online.) This marvelous piece of music really rewards careful listening -- something that might be possible for most of us only in the concert hall or a long trip alone in the car. Berlioz doesn't depict the whole infancy stories as related in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, but concentrates on Herod's raving and the family's flight into Egypt. It's very much a story for our time because Jesus, Mary and Joseph are given hospitality (and their lives are saved) by a generous family of Ishmaelites (the original Arab peoples, descended from Abraham's son, Ishmael, who kind of got a raw deal because he had the wrong mother; see Genesis 16-18:19; 21:1-21). In ancient times, hospitality, even toward a stranger, was seen as an important family value.

Another interesting insight, which will probably form the basis for my homily, is that given the high rate of mortality in childbirth, I think it is not unlikely that Joseph may have been married before and had other children, and was not necessarily an old man. In opposition to the image we usualy have of the holy family -- just the three of them -- isn't it more likely that Jesus was raised in a large and dynamic extended family household, where everybody knew and was involved in everyone else's business? A further perspective on his being normal, "like us in all things but sin." I suspect too, that means that normal childish naughtiness (like staying behind in Jerusalem without telling his parents) most likely isn't sinful!

The "brothers and sisters of Jesus" in the Gospels presents a perennial problem, especially if we hold, as the Church does, Mary's perpetual virginity. Fr. Pat Hartin, whom you may recall was the chaplain at the Claremont Colleges some years back and is one of the foremost scholars on the New Testament Letter of James, in his new book "James of Jerusalem," notes that there are three theories on the "brothers and sisters of Jesus":


  • The oldest (2nd century), held by most eastern Orthodox and Catholic theologians, is that they were half-brothers or step-brothers, children of Joseph by a previous marriage (which, as noted above, I think is most logical).
  • Another view, nearly as ancient (3rd century), held that the "brothers" were children of Mary and Joseph, younger siblings of Jesus. Of course, this is incompatible with the Catholic belief in the perpetual virginity of Mary (of which there is no direct scriptural evidence), and was condemned as heretical by St. Jerome. It was revived with modern critical studies of the New Testament, and is probably the most generally accepted Protestant view.
  • The third view was taught by St. Jerome (4th-5th century) to counter the second. He noted that the Greek word "brothers" can also refer to extended family members, such as cousins. This is the view most commonly held by western (Roman) Catholics. Note however, that the only thing taught de fide is Mary's perpetual virginity, and so one is free to accept the "half-brother" theory as more plausible -- as I do.
  • However, in clear support of "brothers" meaning extended family members, we find that two of the "brothers of Jesus" named in Mark 6:3, James and Joses (or Joseph), are identified as the sons of Mary the wife of Clopas, who stood at the foot of the cross. Also, in the narratives of the passion, it is evident that the mother of the sons of Zebedee (James -- a different James -- and John) is identified as Salome, the sister of Mary the mother of Jesus. (This Salome is no relation to the dancing girl over whom John the Baptist lost his head.) See Mark 15:40; Matthew 27:56; and John 19:25.

I think the import for us of these insights is that the childhood of Jesus was a lot more normal, involving intensive living together of a good number of extended family members, than most of the images on holy cards would suggest. It was dynamic, vibrant, and noisy, with lots of conflicts as well as intense loyalty and support -- all of which are characteristic of both ancient and modern families of Mediterranean cultures. And immensely loving, of course.

What other implications of this could be spelled out? (Hey, I'm an only child, so I identify more with the isolated threesome image.)