The events of the Nativity - indeed, many of the events described in the Bible - seem distinctly improbable, if not impossible. An angel announcing the future birth of Jesus, a virgin conception, a holy man foretelling the baby’s fate; to many secular observers, these stories seem far-fetched. It seems apparent to me, based on some past experiences and scriptural readings, that the improbability of these stories has long been acknowledged by Christians and believers in God as well. However, this improbability or doubtfulness is not presented as a reason to reject belief in God, but rather as a reason to embrace it; indeed, the improbable is often transformed into the miraculous. This tension fascinates me, and it is visible in many Christian texts pertaining to the subject.
One might consider the story of the birth of John the Baptist, which was roughly concurrent with the Nativity of Jesus. Luke describes how Gabriel appeared to Zachary with the news that God was blessing him and his wife Elizabeth with a son. Zachary had long prayed for a child, but he responded with disbelief; he believed that he and his wife were too old to conceive at this point. However understandable Zachary’s doubt might have seemed, Gabriel chastised him for it, revoking his ability to speak during Elizabeth’s pregnancy (Luke 1:11 - 20).
Though Zachary was punished for his disbelief, his last words in the narrative would not be words of doubt. After Elizabeth gave birth, she named the baby John, as God had decreed; however, their neighbors and kinsfolk believed that the couple should name him Zachary instead. However, Zachary himself wrote that the boy would be named John. At this point, God restored Zachary’s ability to speak; Zachary in turn praised God and gave a prophecy about John’s future role as the forerunner of Jesus (Luke 1:57 - 80). Zachary regained his voice because he had regained his faith. Though the circumstances of John's birth were unusual, Zachary had witnessed everything that Gabriel had described come to pass; as such, he had repented of his earlier doubts. The implausible conception and birth of John the Baptist had become a sign of God’s power.
Another example is visible within Advent Lyric II of the Exeter Book, which perfectly encapsulates the perception of the Nativity as both highly improbable and highly praiseworthy. The author of the text deliberately describes the virgin conception and birth of Jesus as “an unknown happening in our history” (“The Exeter Book” 306), underscoring how unlikely and unusual it must have seemed to Medieval Christians. However, this improbability does not cause the author to doubt the Nativity; on the contrary, the Nativity’s unlikeliness makes the event that much more glorious. Mary was able to take on this exceedingly unique role because she herself possessed a worth “unmatched in the world”. Likewise, the Nativity revealed the true “might and mystery of the Lord”, as only he was capable of making it come to pass (“The Exeter Book” 306). The birth of Christ may have been unlikely, but this unlikeliness made it truly special.
In addition to the stories of the Nativity, improbability is transformed into a reason to believe in other places in the Bible as well. The story of Elijah’s duel with the prophets of Baal in front of a crowd of spectators comes to mind. Both sides agreed to pray to their respective gods to light the bulls on their sacrificial altars on fire. After the prophets of Baal failed, Elijah upped the ante. He constructed his altar out of wood and stones and then poured enough water onto the altar to thoroughly drench it. Elijah then prayed to God to give the people a sign, and God delivered: he sent down fire and completely disintegrated the meat, the altar (stones and all), and the water on the ground. The spectators immediately fell and worshipped God, having been reminded of his abilities and powers (1 Kings 18:20-39). If one had told them what they were going to see beforehand, they might not have believed it; nonetheless, they had just witnessed it. Indeed, the highly unusual nature of the display would have driven home to the people exactly why they worshipped the God of Israel.
Within all of these texts, the doubtfulness of the events described is either explicitly (Luke and Advent Lyric II) or implicitly (1 Kings) acknowledged. However, the fact that they come to pass makes them glorious; the unlikeliness of these happenings stops being a reason to doubt and becomes a reason to believe more fervently instead. I have also personally experienced this phenomenon in which doubtfulness leads to belief.
Though I am not anymore, I used to be a pretty fervent Christian back in the day. The phenomenon of incorruptibility, in which the bodies or body parts of certain saints do not completely decompose after their deaths, was one of the most alluring aspects of the faith for me. I first learned about incorruptible saints over a decade ago when I visited the Holy Virgin Cathedral in San Francisco. I saw the body of St. John Maximovitch, a Russian Orthodox bishop who was canonized after his death in 1966. Surprisingly, his corpse seemed to be mostly intact. Though his hands were blackened and shriveled, they were not skeletal. Much of the rest of his body, including his face, was covered by priestly vestments; still, it did not seem to be heavily damaged. I knew that John had not been embalmed at all, and yet he had been found in this relatively well-preserved state a few decades after his death. The whole spectacle was awe-inspiring to me, and I wondered how this was possible.
I know now that there are many reasons why a body might appear to be incorrupt that do not seem to indicate divine intervention. Corpses can take longer than usual to decompose when left in the correct microclimatic conditions, which are found in certain sealed tombs; conversely, if those conditions are disturbed, the bodies might decay as normal. Moreover, bodies that have been found in an incorrupt state are often subsequently given treatments by the church to further preserve them; for example, St. Paula Frassinetti’s body was treated with carbolic acid. For these reasons, the Catholic Church no longer recognizes incorruptibility as a miracle for the purposes of canonization (“Photographing the Incorrupt Bodies of Real Saints”).
Still, even with this knowledge, incorruptibility inspires awe (at least for me). The lack of complete decay seems to contravene much of what we know happens to the body after death. These bodies were not mummified (at least before their discovery), and yet they remained preserved for decades or even centuries before they were found. Incorruptibility is a seemingly unlikely state of being, and yet we have documentation of many bodies being found in this state. Moreover, there is the fact that these bodies in particular belonged to people who were deemed to have lived holy lives. Though there are natural explanations for incorruptibility, it can still seem miraculous because of this confluence of coincidences. I can see how a believer would interpret this phenomenon as God intervening to preserve the bodies of his saints, in part because I once saw it this way. As with the Nativity, then, the seeming improbability of incorruptibility need not weaken faith; on the contrary, it could very well amplify it.
-WJC
Outside sources:
1. Harper, Elizabeth. “Photographing the Real Bodies of Incorrupt Saints.” Slate, 14 August 2015, https://slate.com/human-interest/2015/08/photographing-the-real-bodies-of-incorrupt-saints.html.
Your examples of the incorrupt bodies will make more sense once we get to the readings on the resurrection—perhaps think about this as a possible paper topic, if you are interested? For the blog posts, however, I would like to hear more about your reflections on the reading we have done for class, specifically for the themes of the day on which you post. I am unclear to what class you are responding in this reflection!
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