as his words and deeds, by the historical circumstances of his place and time, namely Palestine in the first century. The gospels show us these circumstances in precise detail. What Paul emphasizes in his letters, however, is that in his heavenly life Jesus has risen above these particular circumstances. He now appeals not only to the Jews of his time, when his message is restricted, as he himself says, ‘to the lost sheep of the house of Israel’, but to all men in all times. It was Paul’s chief concern, as apostle of the gentiles, to show this to people in the Roman world.”
“But how does Paul’s interpretation of Jesus’ message apply to people in the modern world?” asked Nobuo again. “Isn’t Paul no less remote from us in time than Jesus was? We may have his written letters, as we have the written gospels, but we don’t have the persons themselves, whether Paul or Jesus.”
“What Paul says of Jesus,” I replied, “applies especially to the Church, which he calls the mystical body of Jesus. He sees Jesus not only in heaven, as the glorious head of the Church, but also in his suffering members on earth. It is in them that Jesus remains on earth, as he promised, all days even till the end of the world. In this way he is no less present in the modern world than he was in his own time or in the time of Paul. In this way he appeals to us today both in his heavenly glory, as the goal of our earthly pilgrimage, and in his suffering members, in whom he shows us how we are to reach our goal. It is within his Church, which is for poor and suffering people, as he says in his Sermon on the Mount, that we look up to him as our king. It is within his Church that we see his personal example, not as one who is long since dead, but as one who is still living in our midst. It is within his Church that Jesus appeals to us as he appealed to his first disciples, to follow him both in the poverty of Bethlehem and in the suffering of Calvary. He tells us, as he once told the rich young man, to give up all things and to follow him in poverty. He tells us, as he once told Peter and his other disciples, to renounce ourselves and take up our cross and follow him in suffering. This is, he tells us, the one way that leads to eternal life.”
Iwao was listening intently to what I had to say. As soon as I finished, he declared, “Now at last you’ve said what I’ve been waiting to hear. Now you’re speaking not in the abstract terms of moral philosophy but in a way anyone can understand. But it seems to me you’ve only just begun. Please go on and tell us more about Jesus, from his birth in Bethlehem to his death on Calvary, and especially his resurrection. I want to hear more about his kingdom and about himself as king.”
This request of his was warmly seconded by his friend Hiroshi, as well as by the two girls, while Nobuo indicated his absent-minded approval.
How did he come?
“Please tell us about Christmas,” requested Mariko, as soon as we gathered again after dinner. “I mean, the first Christmas night in the stable of Bethlehem.”
“Oh, please do,” echoed her friend Chieko.
“First, you must wait a little,” I answered. “What you want will come in due time, but we have to begin at the beginning, and that beginning isn’t at Bethlehem.”
“Then where is it?” asked Chieko in surprise.
“At Nazareth,” I answered, “in the hill country to the North of Judea, not far from the inland sea or lake of Galilee. For we have to begin the story of Jesus not with Jesus himself but with Mary his mother, and how she came to be his mother.”
“Then how did she come to be his mother?” This time the question came from Iwao, as I paused before continuing.
“Let me put it like this,” I said. “You know the famous painting of the Annunciation by Fra Angelico, don’t you? The virgin’s house is represented in the style of a Renaissance palace in fifteenth-century Italy, but that doesn’t matter. On one side you see the virgin Mary in prayer, and on the other you see the angel coming to greet her. Above her, you see the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove, from whom descends a ray of light that penetrates her chaste womb. It is such a simple painting, yet so charming in its simplicity.”
“But what does it mean?” asked Hiroshi. “Are we expected to believe it happened as the artist has shown in his painting, or in so far as he is following the gospel account?”
“Its meaning,” I said, “is, as you suggest, to be found in the opening chapter of Luke’s Gospel, and I have no doubt that Luke was in turn simply repeating what he had been told by Mary herself. There’s an old tradition in the Church that she spent her last days on earth with John at Ephesus, and there Luke could easily have consulted her. As for the account in Luke’s Gospel, I’d like to explain it in terms of a prayer in honour of Mary known as the Angelus. Do you know it?”
“Do you mean the bell that rings three times at midday from the church of St.Ignatius?” asked Mariko. “Then it rings again for a longer time. It sounds very romantic, when I’m sitting in class with Chieko. I imagine I’m in a mediaeval monastery, and the bell is ringing not only for the monks but for all the people working in the fields. Then I recall the lovely painting of ‘The Angelus’ by the French impressionist painter Millet. These are in fact two of my favourite paintings, this by Millet and the other one you’ve mentioned, by Fra Angelico.”
“But do you know why it rings three times?” I asked her. “And then a longer time?”
“No,” admitted Mariko. “I haven’t ever thought of that. I’m just impressed by the romantic sound of the bell inviting people to prayer. Isn’t that enough?”
“Well,” I explained, “there’s a special meaning and a special prayer connected with each time the bell rings. The first time it rings we say, ‘The angel of the Lord declared to Mary, and she conceived by the Holy Spirit.’ In its Latin form the first word we say is ‘Angelus’, and the whole prayer is named after this word. Then we go on to say the ‘Hail Mary’, the prayer in honour of Mary which begins with the words used by the angel to greet her on that occasion. It’s called in Latin, ‘Ave Maria’.”
“I know the ‘Ave Maria’,” exclaimed Chieko. “At least, I know its musical setting by Schubert and Gounod. They’re such beautiful and inspiring melodies. I myself prefer the one by Schubert, as Gounod’s is too operatic for my taste. From the music I can feel something of the meaning in the words, though I don’t know any Latin.”
“How about the angel?” interrupted Iwao. “Who’s he supposed to be? Why couldn’t God have appeared directly to Mary, as we see the Holy Spirit appearing under the form of a dove in Fra Angelico’s painting?”
“The angel,” I answered, “is supposed to be a messenger of God, appearing to men in the place of God. For God himself is too bright to be seen by human eyes, and in any case he has no distinct form. As to whether the angel appeared to Mary in visible form, or was just a projection of her sub-conscious mind, as a modern psychologist might say, I don’t think it really matters. Anyhow, the words he spoke on that occasion as recorded by Luke come straight out of the Old Testament. They almost sound like an anthology of texts from the prophets referring to the coming of the Messiah, the expected king of Israel. In this case, however, their reference is not future but present, pointing to Mary as mother of the Messiah. So the angel greets her, as no woman in the Old Testament was ever greeted, as ‘full of grace’. In this annunciation we seem to be hearing the word of God himself coming down not only from heaven above but also from the past ages of prophecy till it reaches the fullness of time and its own fulfillment in the virgin Mary. And so, as the prayer continues, ‘she conceived by the Holy Spirit’.”
“What does that mean?” asked Hiroshi. “Didn’t Joseph have anything to do with it? Wasn’t he the husband of Mary?”
“He is indeed betrothed to Mary,” I answered. “And so he remains, for the protection of her virginity. But God has other plans for her, as Luke tells us. For the angel goes on to tell Mary, ‘The Spirit of the Lord will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you, and the Holy One to be born of you will be called the Son of God.’ This was a tremendous thing for an angel to say to a simple village girl. Mary must have