Monday, August 3, 2026

Elihu prophesying on God’s behalf

 



by

Damien F. Mackey

 

  

“Because Elihu really is providing us with truth and revelation. ….

Elihu is on the scene to resolve the dispute, chastising both prior groups

and offering the correct theological perspective”.

 

Stan Rock

  

Previously I have proposed – following others – that young Elihu of the Book of Job was both wise and prophetically inclined:

 

Young Elihu in the Book of Job corrects the ‘wisdom’ of the aged

 

(5) Young Elihu in the Book of Job corrects the ‘wisdom’ of the aged

 

and that:

 

Elihu a contemporary of the prophet Ezekiel

 

(5) Elihu a contemporary of the prophet Ezekiel

 

May even, potentially, have been Ezekiel.

 

Here I take up what Stan Rock has to say about young Elihu (2014)

Christus Victor: Existentialism Faces Eternity

 

Elihu, the Forgotten Prophet of Job

 

The Book of Job is one of the most important of the entire Bible, and is a prerequisite to all discussions of Christian theology, particularly theodicy.

 

Unfortunately, two erroneous interpretations of Job’s theses are by far the most popular.

 

Job the Hero: The Sunday School Interpretation

 

In Sunday School as a child, the Book of Job was presented to me as the story of:

 

  • Satan’s challenge to God,
  • Job’s suffering as a result,
  • Job courageously refusing to curse God through the suffering,
  • and God rewarding that fortitude with recompense and a happy ending.

 

This is the story of Job in the shallow end of the Christian pool. ….

 

Bad Friends: The “No Heroes” Interpretation

The other popular “take-away” from Job is that when someone is suffering, words only make things worse, and each person who talked to Job was wrong.

 

Job’s friends Eliphaz, Zophar, and Bildad are indeed rebuked, in the end, by God himself. And Job’s complaints against his friends would seem to serve such a thesis.

 

Ravi Zacharias wrote in his recent book, “Why Suffering? Finding Meaning and Comfort When Life Doesn’t Make Sense”:

“[A ‘negative reality’ emerged in] the colossal failure of [Job’s] friends. They were at their best when they took time out of their own lives just to be with him, saying nothing. The moment they began to give their own observations for why Job was suffering and offer their suggestions for remedying his situation, Job’s pain intensified. To be loved and feel cared about is what someone who is hurting needs from friends.”

 

Zacharias sees the problem of Job’s friends remedied only by God’s ultimate arrival:

“So the failure we see in the story of Job is the failure of friendship. Then comes the answer of God. God’s answer was not propositional, but relational. And that is what Job most needed. He simply needed to know that God was with him through his ordeal … that God had not abandoned him.”

 

The Problems With These Interpretations

 

The former interpretation accounts for Job chapters 1, chapter 2 verses 1 through 10, and chapter 42 verses 10 through 16. As such, it is missing about 40 chapters of content.

 

The latter interpretation has completely jettisoned the most overlooked prophet in the Old Testament: Elihu.

 

An Overview of Job

 

Job’s 42 chapters contain the following:

 

  • An introduction to Job’s predicament.
  • Job arguing with friends Eliphaz, Zophar, and Bildad about whether Job is righteous vs. whether God is just.
  • Elihu arguing against both Job and Job’s 3 friends.
  • The Storm of God arriving and boasting of His transcendent power, wisdom, and justice.
  • The conclusion: Job repents, God rebukes Job’s 3 friends (not Elihu), and Job is given recompense (as far as it can be called that).

 

Notice how much material Elihu provides, material never thereafter rebutted, left to be punctuated by God himself. Isn’t it odd that he is so often forgotten, bundled as “just another friend” alongside Eliphaz, Zophar, and Bildad?

 

Elihu as Prophet

 

Elihu is not a shy character. He’s a young upstart, and makes no apologies about the wisdom he brings to the table:

“I thought, ‘Age should speak; advanced years should teach wisdom.’ But it is the spirit in a person, the breath of the Almighty, that gives them understanding. It is not only the old who are wise, not only the aged who understand what is right. … My words come from an upright heart; my lips sincerely speak what I know. The Spirit of God has made me; the breath of the Almighty gives me life. … Be silent, [Job,] and I will teach you wisdom. … Hear my words, you wise men [Eliphaz, Zophar, Bildad]; listen to me, you men of learning. … So listen to me, you men of understanding. … If you have understanding, hear this; listen to what I say.”

 

All this, and God does not rebuke him like he rebukes everyone else.

 

Why?

 

Because Elihu really is providing us with truth and revelation.

He really is confronting Job, Eliphaz, Zophar, and Bildad and correcting their bad theology.

“Bear with me a little longer and I will show you that there is more to be said on God’s behalf. I get my knowledge from afar; I will ascribe justice to my Maker. Be assured that my words are not false; one who has perfect knowledge is with you.”

 

This isn’t some joke.

 

This is prophecy.

 

Elihu is on the scene to resolve the dispute, chastising both prior groups and offering the correct theological perspective.

 

Job’s Lamentation Theology

 

The calamity that befalls Job — and for which God is superordinately responsible (he deliberately gave permission to Satan here, after all) — prompts Job to regret the day he was born. He claims personal righteousness, and thus his misfortunes must be indicative (given that superordinate responsibility) of injustice in God, given that justice means, “He repays everyone for what they have done; he brings on them what their conduct deserves (Job 34).”

 

Job laments the fact that he cannot approach God personally with the case for his innocence; he yearns to do so! His friends aren’t “buying” that case, but Job surmises that a person lives that could vindicate him.

 

Job doesn’t relax God’s classical attributes. He fully endorses God’s omnipotence and superordinate responsibility (Job 12), as well as his cosmic wisdom (Job 28).

 

As such, Job’s theodicean solution — his “lamentation theology” — is to indict God’s benevolence.

“There is no justice,” Job says.

 

The Karmic Folk Theology of Eliphaz, Zophar, & Bildad

 

Eliphaz, Zophar, and Bildad have different emphases, but repeat some similar themes, and since are all rebuked, can be treated as a group.

 

Their argument is as follows: Since God is just (“He repays everyone for what they have done”) and superordinately responsible for what happens to a person, then if something bad happens to a person, it must be in response to something that person has done. Eliphaz articulates this “common sense” karmic folk theology:

“Who, being innocent, has ever perished? Where were the upright ever destroyed? As I have observed, those who plow evil and those who sow trouble reap it.”

 

Bildad, for example, jumps to the conclusion that Job’s sons must have been sinners, too:

“Does God pervert justice? Does the Almighty pervert what is right? When your children sinned against him, he gave them over to the penalty of their sin.”

 

Every time Job insists that he’s innocent, his friends go the opposite direction: Job must be super wicked, and trying to hide it. Zophar says:

“Though evil is sweet in [a wicked man’s] mouth, and he hides it under his tongue… [it] will turn sour in his stomach [and] become the venom of serpents within him.”

 

As Job proves adamant in his own defense, his friend Bildad retreats to that classic “catch-all” of total depravity: As a human, you are so beneath God that you are a worthless maggot and deserve whatever happens to you.

“How then can a mortal be righteous before God? How can one born of woman be pure? If even the moon is not bright and the stars are not pure in his eyes, how much less a mortal, who is but a maggot; a human being, who is only a worm!”

 

Eliphaz weaves a powerful figure: A wealthy man, portly and happy, brought down to shriveling, sickly misery.

 

Elihu’s Rejection of Job’s Lamentation Theology

 

First, Elihu sees it within human capacity to discern God’s justice in the abstract, even if we don’t know how it plays out day-by-day. He rejects the idea that God’s goodness and justice are completely inscrutable, as if something without human-appreciable meaning.

“For the ear tests words as the tongue tastes food. Let us discern for ourselves what is right; let us learn together what is good.”

 

Elihu further defines justice (“He repays everyone for what they have done”) and rejects the notion that God would pervert justice.

 

So, Elihu joins Eliphaz, Zophar, and Bildad against Job’s claim of innocence.

“His eyes are on the ways of mortals; he sees their every step. … Should God then reward you on your terms, when you refuse to repent? … [We all agree that] Job speaks without knowledge; his words lack insight. Oh, that Job might be tested to the utmost for answering like a wicked man! To his sin he adds rebellion; scornfully he claps his hands among us and multiplies his words against God.”

 

Elihu’s Rejection of Karmic Folk Theology


But here’s where it gets interesting.

 

Elihu agrees, Job has sinned, insofar as Job arrogantly indicted God for injustice, speaking “of things [he] did not understand”; Job’s plea, laden with such “empty talk,” was brazen, reckless, and cheap.

 

But he rejects the notion that man is a “maggot” who deserves whatever befalls him.

 

The transcendence of God to man does not make man despised, but rather, makes man’s wickedness less impactful to God:

“Look up at the heavens and see; gaze at the clouds so high above you. If you sin, how does that affect him? If your sins are many, what does that do to him? … Your wickedness only affects humans like yourself.”

 

Instead of a “despised mankind” narrative, Elihu crafts a narrative in which God has an instrumental purpose for all he does:

“God is mighty, but despises no one; he is mighty, and firm in his purpose.”

 

In this way, God’s justice is comprehensible, but the intricacies of how that justice will be made manifest are mysterious. God is not a flayer; he’s a teacher:

“Who is a teacher like him? Who has prescribed his ways for him, or said to him, ‘You have done wrong’? … How great is God — beyond our understanding!”

 

It’s less about “vengeance,” but instead about correction, forebearing as long as that purpose has hope:

“He tells [the sinner] what they have done — that they have sinned arrogantly. He makes them listen to correction and commands them to repent of their evil.”

 

He recrafts Eliphaz’s tale of the sickened man into a narrative of redemption:

“Someone may be chastened on a bed of pain with constant distress in their bones, so that their body finds food repulsive and their soul loathes the choicest meal. Their flesh wastes away to nothing, and their bones, once hidden, now stick out. They draw near to the pit, and their life to the place of the dead.

 

Yet if there is an angel at their side, a messenger, one out of a thousand, sent to tell them how to be upright, and he is gracious to that person and says to God, ‘Spare them from going down to the pit; I have found a ransom for them — let their flesh be renewed like a child’s; let them be restored as in the days of their youth’  — then that person can pray to God and find favor with him, they will see God’s face and shout for joy; he will restore them to full well-being. … God does all these things to a person — twice, even three times — to turn them back from the pit, that the light of life may shine on them.”

 

Christ as Victor

 

We’ve talked before about how the existential dilemma of Ecclesiastes — ultimate meaninglessness — received a practical solution in Christ as conqueror of death.

 

In Job, we see the dilemma of justice, where the wicked may enjoy the peace of death without their due repayment, and where the playing-out of God’s justice may involve the unrewarded — in life — suffering of the faithful.

 

Christ, as conqueror of death, is also the final judge. The final judgment is not for God’s edification — Elihu correctly explains that God doesn’t need to hold a tribunal — but for ours. And through that process, all “loose ends” can be wrapped-up entirely:

 

“For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.”

 

Elihu as Bridge


From the Jewish Encyclopedia:

“[Elihu’s] meaning is ‘He is my God’ [in the sense of] ‘He remains my God and does not change.’ … [His] argument is as follows: God is the educator of mankind, who punishes only until the sinner has atoned for his sin and recognizes his wrong-doing. Then God has attained His object, to ‘bring back his soul from the pit, to be enlightened with the light of the living.’

Elihu, therefore, holds a middle ground, maintaining that God neither ‘takes away judgment,’ nor sends suffering merely as a punishment, but acts as the educator and teacher of mankind.”

 

Elihu is our “bridge” to Christ. His is a theological response that unites justice and mercy — not by conflating them, but by employing them as part of a single grand plan.

 

His is a rejection of pure retribution and an embrace of prospective instrumentality, an exaltation of a God who is mighty, despises no one, and is firm in his purpose.

 

Elihu, who heralds the Lord Himself:

 

“Out of the north he comes in golden splendor;

God comes in awesome majesty.

The Almighty is beyond our reach and exalted in power;

in his justice and great righteousness, he does not oppress.”

 

Sunday, August 2, 2026

Bleakness of Ecclesiastes resolved in Jesus Christ

 


 

“… the sighing sadness of Ecclesiastes has been eliminated.

“Where, O death, is your sting?” writes Paul quoting Hosea”.

 

Stan Rock

 

 

Interesting writer, Stan Rock (2014)

Christus Victor: Existentialism Faces Eternity

 

Last week, we talked about how meaning is not objective. Every appeal for a rational justification of meaning in turn requires its own appeal.

 

This is the “infinite reference problem,” and pursuing it in search of some ultimate and rational end-point is a “chasing after the wind.”

 

We’re given this lesson from Ecclesiastes.

 

But, for us Christians, the future is not bleak. We have a unique solution, thanks to Jesus Christ.

 

It doesn’t solve the infinite reference problem, but it creates a practical meaning-fountain that annihilates the “existential monster.”

 

Everything is Meaningless

 

First, it’s vital to understand the extremely uncomfortable lesson given to us by Ecclesiastes.

 

In Ecclesiastes, the assumption is that when a man dies, he’s dead, and that’s it. You go to the grave. Your dust goes into the ground, your breath goes back to God. You’re finished.

 

Ecclesiastes 3:18-22

“I also said to myself, ‘As for humans, God tests them so that they may see that they are like the animals. Surely the fate of human beings is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same spirit/breath; humans have no advantage over animals. Everything is meaningless. All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return. Who knows if the human spirit/breath rises upward and if the spirit/breath of the animal goes down into the earth?’

 

So I saw that there is nothing better for a person than to enjoy their work, because that is their lot. For who can bring them to see what will happen after them?”

His early conclusion is to “just stop” on the axial value of enjoying your toil and lot.

Ecclesiastes 4:18

“This is what I have observed to be good: that it is appropriate for a person to eat, to drink and to find satisfaction in their toilsome labor under the sun during the few days of life God has given them — for this is their lot.”

The essential premise of Ecclesiastes is that we’re not going to be around after we die.

 

Leaving a legacy still leaves uncertainty.

 

  • Our bequests?
  • Our treatises?
  • Our progeny?

 

We cannot be certain in any of it.

 

Ecclesiastes 6:12

“For who knows what is good for a person in life, during the few and meaningless days they pass through like a shadow? Who can tell them what will happen under the sun after they are gone?”

 

Thus, the “just stop” existential conclusion:

 

Ecclesiastes 9:9-10

“Enjoy life with your wife, whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life that God has given you under the sun — all your meaningless days. For this is your lot in life and in your toilsome labor under the sun. Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the realm of the dead, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom.”

 

Additionally, investments (though uncertain) are lauded (11:1-6), and obedience to God is demanded (11:7-10) because it’s our duty, and because we’ll risk his judgment — in life.

 

Many mainstream Christian teachers would like Ecclesiastes not to exist, or to say something other than what it does.

 

They’d prefer that it conclude with a rejection of “everything is meaningless,” as if teeing up a ball earlier only to finally smash it out of the park.

 

But that’s not what happens.

 

Ecclesiastes 12:6-10

“Remember [the Creator], before the silver cord is severed, and the golden bowl is broken; before the pitcher is shattered at the spring, and the wheel broken at the well, and the dust returns to the ground it came from, and the spirit/breath returns to God who gave it.

 

‘Meaningless! Meaningless!’ says the Teacher. ‘Everything is meaningless!’ Not only was the Teacher wise, but he also imparted knowledge to the people. He pondered and searched out and set in order many proverbs. The Teacher searched to find just the right words, and what he wrote was upright and true.”

 

Meaning Generators

 

Even though everything is ultimately meaningless, we still create meaning since we’re beings with innate and/or molded interests. Each one of us is a “meaning fountain” — as is God himself.

 

It’s not about what simply is meaningful in a vacuum. It’s about what is regarded meaningful, according to the interests of beings with interests.

The writer of Ecclesiastes recognized that we generate meaning in this way through the provisions of life that we enjoy. We find meaning in food, drink, our projects, our families, our investments, and our thankful obligation to our Creator.

 

But, for us, that “generation” dies. In the end, we all go kaput.

That’s the sad and bleak part of all of this.

 

Then Comes Christus Victor

 

Paul tells us that man’s physical death is a consequence of his having sinned:

Romans 5:12-14

 

“Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all people, because all sinned. To be sure, sin was in the world before the law was given, but sin is not charged against anyone’s account where there is no law. Nevertheless, death reigned from the time of Adam to the time of Moses, even over those who did not sin by breaking a command, as did Adam, who is a pattern of the one to come.”

 

Through the appeal of baptism, we can voluntarily die to our sins. We are “baptized into his death,” which has a real and profound result:

Romans 6:3-5

“Or don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like his.”


In Paul’s scathing first letter to the Corinthians, he calls out those who would deny the down-the-road resurrection of the dead.

 

He makes an argumentum ad absurdum in support of that general resurrection, which is this: Why the heck would we risk life and limb without a prospective purpose?

 

1 Corinthians 15:30-32a

“And as for us, why do we endanger ourselves every hour [if there is no resurrection of the dead]? I face death every day — yes, just as surely as I boast about you in Christ Jesus our Lord. If I fought wild beasts in Ephesus with no more than human hopes, what have I gained?”

 

And then 32b:

“If the dead are not raised, ‘Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.'”

 

That’s technically a quote from Isaiah — but it reminds you of another book, doesn’t it?

 

Without these resurrections, our faith is useless says Paul (v. 13-14).

 

Instead, we have a hope in that down-the-road resurrection, because of victorious Christ.

 

1 Corinthians 15:54,57b

“When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’ … Thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

 

In other words, we’re back in Ecclesiastes-Land without the general resurrection.

The general resurrection doesn’t make Ecclesiastes false. Ecclesiastes was correct — “upright and true” — when it said that there was no objective underpinning of meaning, and that meaning is generated by interests and experience.

 

But the sighing sadness of Ecclesiastes has been eliminated. “Where, O death, is your sting?” writes Paul quoting Hosea.

 

The Limitless Future

 

We’re in a pickle when we demand, for every statement of meaning, an appeal to a higher justification.

 

But what if we simply demand a future justification?

 

And what if our future keeps going?

 

Suddenly, while the infinite reference problem still exists (and can never be solved), it can at least be made practically moot by the fact that we’ll always have new and novel prospects — forever — after the advent of that “New Earth.”

 

Really, Really Limitless

 

Some folks are afraid that we’ll get bored.

 

While we have a sacred hope that being in the presence of God will be overwhelmingly satisfying, it’s a hope impossible to convey or even conceptualize.

 

So let’s also say: “Actually, eternity probably won’t ‘run out.'”

 

  • First, our material brains don’t store things very well. Can you recall what you were doing exactly one year ago? No, you can’t. You even find new enjoyable elements in movies you’ve seen dozens of times. You take pleasure and satisfaction in that “weakness” of perception and memory.
  • Second, God’s universe is likely stocked with innumerable things to discover. And the time it would take to discover even a miniscule fraction of that universe would represent a period under which innumerable new potential discoveries would be born.
  • Finally, however God’s universe is brimming with things to discover, it’ll be brimming over exponentially more with things we’ll be building ourselves for his glory.

 

No “Objective Meaning”; Rather, Endless Meaning

 

Many apologists rely on the idea of “objective meaning” in order avoid existential anxiety. They also use it as a logical wildcard in service of a rubber sword “Godproof” — often, they’ll threaten the listener with existential emptiness if they don’t accept the “objective meaning” they’re selling.

This is a very, very common tactic. But it’s not Biblical.

 

The Biblical message is that meaning is not objective. It’s generated by subjects with interests.

 

The writer of Ecclesiastes didn’t say, ‘Everything is meaningful, because it is grounded on some objective source of meaning.’

 

Rather, he said, ‘Everything is meaningless, and this is an upright and true teaching.’

 

We attain our hope by means of Christ, by whom death is conquered and obliterated. This grants us a beautiful device that allows us to generate meaning forever — and it has an infinite-year warranty.

 

This is our grand and overwhelming “happy non-ending.”

 

 

Saturday, August 1, 2026

Tudor biblical partners

 


 



by

 Damien F. Mackey

 

 

“As early as 1530 Saint John Fisher began to preach that he was willing to die like Saint John the Baptist in defense of the sacrament of matrimony. You’ll remember that John the Baptist received martyrdom for protesting King Herod Antipas’ adulterous marriage to Herodias.

 

Henry VIII was the new Herod

Ann Boleyn was the new Herodias

John Fisher was the new John the Baptist”.

 Dr. Taylor Marshall

  

Introduction

 

Why is it that the Tudors so frequently call to mind for scripturally-minded scholars, and for historical enthusiasts, well-known biblical characters?

 

This is especially the case with King Henry VIII, as partnered with Anne Boleyn.

The pair have been considered in terms of:

 

Henry VIII as Ahab, Anne Boleyn as Jezebel

 

(4) Henry VIII as Ahab, Anne Boleyn as Jezebel

 

More fruitful, though – and very much at the forefront of this present article – will be the scriptural pairing of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn with, respectively, Herod Antipas and his paramour, Herodias.

 

Less common is the comparison of Henry VIII with King Hezekiah of Judah.

 

Hezekiah was a great reforming king, a fact which no doubt calls to mind for some Henry’s vital rôle in the English Reformation.

 

There is even an uncanny ‘preview’, roughly 350 years earlier, of the illicit situation involving Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, when King John divorces his spouse in order to take as wife a young woman whose name rhymes almost perfectly with Anne Boleyn, Isabella of Angoulême. As I wrote in my article:

 

Anne Boleyn almost rhymes with Angoulême

 

(5) Anne Boleyn almost rhymes with Angoulême

 

quoting Rebecca Starr Brown:

 

“Henry VIII was not the first monarch to divorce their spouse from the throne.

That auspicious honor goes to none other than King John, who, upon ascending

the throne in 1199, divorced his wife, Isabel of Gloucester, and married the young Isabella of Angouleme. There are a few reasons why this divorce is of less fame, though it was its own 13th century scandal at the time. For one, this would be

John’s only divorce and he stopped at two wives. …. Which brings us to

Isabella of Angouleme, who had one notable characteristic in common with

Anne Boleyn – they were both wildly detested by the public”.

 

Both Angoulême and Anne Boleyn were known as “Jezebel”:

 

Isabella of Angoulême – ‘more Jezebel than Isabel’

 

(5) Isabella of Angoulême - 'more Jezebel than Isabel'

 

New Testament comparisons

 

Jesus, who had warned his disciples regarding King Herod Antipas (Mark 8:15): “‘Be careful …. Watch out for the yeast of the Pharisees and that of Herod’,” would also say of King Herod (Luke 13:32): ‘Go tell that fox that I will keep on casting out demons and healing people today and tomorrow; and the third day I will accomplish my purpose’.

 

‘… that fox …’!

 

There was no lack of foxes in the days of King Henry VIII.

 

There was:

Edward Foxe - Wikipedia

Edward Foxe (c. 1496 – 8 May 1538) was an English churchman, Bishop of Hereford. He played a major role in Henry VIII's divorce from Catherine of Aragon, and he assisted in drafting the Ten Articles of 1536”.

 

There was:

Richard Fox, called by King Henry (just like Herod Antipas), “a fox indeed”:

Richard Fox, Bishop of Winchester (c.1448-1528) [Richard Foxe]

“The accession of Henry VIII made no immediate difference to Fox's position. If anything, the substitution of the careless pleasure-loving youth for Henry VII increased the power of his ministry, the personnel of which remained unaltered. The Venetian ambassador calls Fox "alter rex" and the Spanish ambassador Carroz says that Henry VIII trusted him more than any other adviser, although he also reports Henry's warning that the bishop of Winchester was, as his name implied, "a fox indeed".” 

 

The striking parallels between King Herod, Herodias, and John the Baptist, on the one hand, and Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn, and John Fisher, on the other, are well known, and have often been commented upon.

 

I touched on these in e.g. my article:

 

John Fisher and John Baptist parallels

 

(7) John Fisher and John Baptist parallels

 

Here is a sample of that:

 

I have already shown parallels between John the Baptist and Bishop John Fisher, in:

Chewing over the House of Tudor

 

(4) Chewing over the House of Tudor

 

which article I opened with the exclamation: “Talk about parallel lives!”

 

And I have just found something similar here from Dr. Taylor Marshall, Dean of Fisher More College in Fort Worth, Texas:

The Parallel between St John Fisher and St John the Baptist - Taylor Marshall

 

Saint John Fisher was born in Beverley, Yorkshire, England in 1469, the eldest son of Robert Fisher, a modestly prosperous merchant of Beverley, and Agnes Fisher. He was named after Saint John the Baptist.

He was the only bishop in England who faithfully defended the Pope against the adulterous tyranny of King Henry VIII. All the other English bishops apostatized. John Fisher, even more valiantly than Thomas More, defended the valid marriage of Henry to Catherine of Aragon and vehemently opposed Henry VIII’s assumption of the title “Supreme Head” of the English Church.

As early as 1530 Saint John Fisher began to preach that he was willing to die like Saint John the Baptist in defense of the sacrament of matrimony. You’ll remember that John the Baptist received martyrdom for protesting King Herod Antipas’ adulterous marriage to Herodias.

Henry VIII was the new Herod

Ann Boleyn was the new Herodias

John Fisher was the new John the Baptist

When John Fisher was convicted of “treason” he was, of course, sentenced to death. Henry, as Head of the Church” had already defrocked John Fisher and deposed him of his bishopric. Pope Paul III responded by naming John Fisher as a cardinal of the Catholic church.

This infuriated Henry VIII who said that the Bishop of Rome did not need to send the cardinal’s hat to Fisher – Henry would instead send the Fisher’s decapitated head to Rome!

Accounts say that Fisher was sentenced to die on June 23 or 24. However, June 23 is the vigil of St John the Baptist and the 24th is the feast of Saint John the Baptist. Englishmen began to snicker at the irony. John Fisher truly was a new Saint John the Baptist and would even share a feast day with him.

Henry VIII panicked and had the sentence moved up to June 22 so that the parallel would not be obvious. This is the day of Fisher’s glorious death for the sake of Christ.

Saint John Fisher is a saint of our time. He is the only cardinal who was also a martyr. Moreover, he died defending the liberty of the Pope and the sanctity of Holy Matrimony. What better saint for our time!

Saint John Fisher, pray for us.

 

What makes all of this even more weird are the historical problems associated with the House of Tudor (see above article) and with the regal members of this House. ….

 

Saint Thomas More

 

Once again, also, there is a ‘preview’, referring to what I wrote above: “There is even an uncanny ‘preview’, roughly 350 years earlier, of the illicit situation involving Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn …”. This time, though, I am talking about the parallels between Thomas Becket and Thomas More, also roughly 350 years apart:

 

Parallel Lives - Thomas Becket and Thomas More

 

(7) Parallel Lives - Thomas Becket and Thomas More

 

Suffice here to recall from this article what I quoted Kristina Glicksman writing about:

Telling them apart: Thomas Becket and Thomas More | Salt + Light Media (slmedia.org)

 

Telling them apart: Thomas Becket and Thomas More

Kristina Glicksman

Sunday, December 29, 2019

 

In our Catholic Christian tradition we’ve been blessed with many role models for holiness in our saints. But sometimes it can be difficult to keep them all straight.

 

In this series, “Telling them apart,” I am presenting some side-by-side comparisons in order to help us keep track of commonly confused saints.

Why is it that the memories of Mass which seem to stick most in our minds are not powerful spiritual insights or moving homilies or beautiful liturgical moments but the ones that are most human – the time your brother made you laugh out loud or the altar server dropped the book or the lady fainted during the Easter Vigil?

 

One of my most enduring memories is of a homily preached at a weekday morning Mass on December 29th one year when I was home visiting my parents for Christmas. The celebrant chose to educate us about the saint whose feast we were commemorating that day: St. Thomas Becket.

 

As he began the story, which was fairly familiar to me, I was surprised to hear details which I knew belonged to the life of St. Thomas More. Apparently, my mother recognized them as well because she shook her head through the entire homily, but unless he was telepathic, I’m not sure what the poor priest was supposed to do with that.

 

It’s not just that he mistook one Thomas for the other, but he moved so fluidly between the 12th century and the 16th, the archbishop and the politician, that he created a kind of super saint with all the most memorable details from the lives of each.

And as painful (in an empathetic way) as it was at the time and amusing in hindsight, it is really not at all surprising.

 

They are two Thomases who were Chancellors of England and close friends of kings named Henry who had enormous egos and vile tempers. Both were embroiled in controversies which straddled the Church/state divide and put them in opposition to their former friends who ordered their deaths. Who wouldn’t get confused? ….

 

Kristina Glicksman’s awareness that, when hearing about Thomas Becket in that homily she was picking up”, as she recalls, “details which I knew belonged to the life of St. Thomas More”, is the very same sensation that I had experienced when reading through Graham Hancock’s book, War God. Night of Sorrows, supposedly all about Hernán Cortés, but reading like Alexander the Great:

 

Alexander the Great and Hernán Cortés

 

(DOC) Alexander the Great and Hernán Cortés | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu

 

Following on from all of this, I have written of several striking likenesses that I have noticed between Thomas More and the Apostle, James the Greater:

 

Apostle James Maior and Sir Thomas More

 

(7) Apostle James Maior and Sir Thomas More

 

Just what is going on here?

 

Queen Ellizabeth I

 

Although she does assume the rôle of Jesus when washing feet, Elizabeth has been so often likened to earlier, great biblical figures that I have written this about her:

 

Queen Elizabeth I like an Old Testament character

 

(7) Queen Elizabeth I like an Old Testament character

 

The litany of Old Testament persons who emerge below are only some of those to whom Elizabeth has been likened, with Judith being at the forefront of all of these:  https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1111/rest.12258

Elizabeth I as Judith: reassessing the apocryphal

widow’s appearance in Elizabethan royal

iconography

 

…. Historians and literary scholars have long noted and analysed the appearance of biblical analogies as part of Tudor and Stuart royal iconography. Using the example of a biblical figure, monarchs demonstrated the divine precedent for their decisions, and subjects in turn could counsel their monarch to emulate the actions of a divinely favoured biblical figure.

 

Queen Elizabeth I of England was the subject of the greatest number of biblical analogies drawn in the early modern period: analogies were drawn both by apologists and by Elizabeth herself throughout the entire span of the queen’s reign, and for almost a century after her death.

….

Elizabeth’s comparisons with Deborah the Judge, Queen Esther, Daniel the Prophet, King Solomon, and King David have all received varying levels of attention in the existing scholarship: but the analogy to Judith, the chaste widow of the Apocrypha, has generally escaped detailed analysis. …. Judith was invoked in various ways throughout Elizabeth’s reign, and the diverse analogies reflect the changing religio-political climate of the time.

 

This article offers a re-examination of the comparisons drawn between Elizabeth and Judith during the queen’s life. In doing so, I argue that contrary to claims in some of the existing scholarship, Judith was routinely and consistently offered to Elizabeth as biblical precedent for dealing with Roman Catholics – with violence, not just diplomatic rhetoric – and for the providential sanctioning of female rule; and that Elizabeth, in drawing the parallel to Judith herself, inserted her own voice into these debates. ….

 

Judith’s story can be found in the eponymous book of the Apocrypha. A prophecy was brought, foretelling that Bethulia, Judith’s city, would be lost to the invading Assyrians because of the Jews’ disobedience. Judith attempted to prevent this happening, and prayed to God that he would give her a ‘sworde to take vengeance of the [invading] strangers’. …. She and her handmaiden allowed themselves to be captured by the Assyrians, claiming that they had deserted. The Assyrians took her to Holofernes, the General of the Army.

 

Judith lied to Holofernes that God had forsaken the Jews because they ate his offerings before the requisite time had past, and that he would not defend them until the sacrifices were re-offered, which would take many days to organize. Holofernes was pleased with this news, and allowed Judith to stay in the camp. On the fourth night at the camp, after a banquet, Holofernes passed out, drunk. His servants left the tent, and Judith remained inside, alone. She picked up Holofernes’ sword, grasped his hair, prayed, ‘Strengthen me, O Lord God of Israel, this day,’ and then ‘shee smote twise upon his necke with all her might, and she took away his head from him.’ …. She stowed the head in her handmaiden’s bag, and the two left the camp. She returned to Bethulia, and showed the head, saying, ‘Beholde the head of Holofernes the chiefe captaine of the army of Assur . . . the Lord hath smitten him by the hand of a woman.’ …. Without their general, the Assyrian army fell into disarray, and the attack was abandoned.

 

….

 

While I do not argue that Elizabeth was the first English monarch to be paralleled with Judith … the examples assembled here demonstrate that Elizabeth was both the first monarch to be compared to Judith in a sustained and systematic way for religio-political purposes, and also the first monarch to affirm the analogy in her own words. The importance of these two facts is often sidelined in the scholarship that does discuss the Judith analogy. Helen Hackett’s study of Elizabeth and the cult of the Virgin Mary is excellent, but dismisses Judith’s longevity by claiming, ‘biblical heroines like Deborah and Judith dominated early Elizabethan royal iconography.’ ….