Sunday, July 8, 2007

July 8: Priscilla and Aquila, brought to you by, yes, Saint Paul!

Today the Episcopal Church invites us to celebrate the ministry of Priscilla and Aquila, leaders in the first generation of Christian churches. (They didn’t even call themselves “Christian” yet.)

Since I am still in the land of slow dial-up at my parents', I will have to spare you my own little discourse on Paul the apostle's companions in ministry and refer you to one more excellent essay by James Kiefer, courtesy of the Daily Office folks at Mission Saint Clare. Have a read.

Come back in a couple of days and I will have posted a photo or two of frescoes from the Priscilla-Catacomb in Rome.

* * * * * * * *7/11: Here they are. None of these is a portrait of Priscilla, but they are in the catacomb (in Rome) named after her. Note the women at the Eucharistic table at the top of this post and the orans [praying] woman-- and the image of Jesus as Good Shepherd, the most popular image of Christ in the very early church. (Art of Christ in glory comes later, and art depicting the crucified Christ comes even later than that: not till the late Middle Ages.)

5 comments:

johnieb said...

An enchanting gift from Kiefer: all so stylishly put together and presented; really righteous, Sister & Brother.

johnieb said...

Second Thoughts Dept.,

I think I shall suggest to the DPL (dreadpiratelisa) we form a Clash cover band called Aquila and Lil Prisca; nobody's bidness if we don't, except maybe Joe, Paul, Mick, Topper and the kidz: Career!

Jane R said...

How 'bout Prisca and Li'l Aquila? Ladies in the lead and all that :-).

johnieb said...

I was thinking of being Paul, the Bass player. No, sisters and brothers, not McCartney, Simonon, 'cause "Phony Beatlemania has bitten the dust".

Sir Paul? London Calling on line three; it is a unsecured line, sir: please remember this time.

Short form: today I prefer The Clash, thanks to the Sistah DPL: yo!

johnieb said...

"Career" is "Career Opportunities" (the ones that never knock) sung by the keyboard player's daughter and sons, eight, and about 10 or 12, on the classic recording *London Calling*.