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Wednesday 30 September 2015

A LION AMONG SCHOLARS


I was going to compose a post on St Jerome, whose feast it is today; then I received my weekly e-mail from St Matthias' Church in Somerset, New Jersey, with an excellent piece on Jerome. So I will reproduce that rather than add any clumsy compilation of my own, with thanks to St Matthias. I will also, however, replace their Bellini painting by my favourite Rembrandt sketch of the holy man, where he is shown reading with spectacles and wearing a gardener's hat, while his attendant lion looks out over the landscape, doubtless to spy out critics of the Vulgate. He may have been waspish by nature, but he is the patron saint of scholars and deserves our affection and respect.



Most of the saints are remembered for some outstanding virtue or devotion which they practiced, but Jerome is frequently remembered for his bad temper! It is true that he had a very bad temper and could use a vitriolic pen, but his love for God and his Son Jesus Christ was extraordinarily intense; anyone who taught error was an enemy of God and truth, and St. Jerome went after him or her with his mighty and sometimes sarcastic pen. 

He was above all a Scripture scholar, translating most of the Old Testament from the Hebrew. He also wrote commentaries which are a great source of scriptural inspiration for us today. He was an avid student, a thorough scholar, a prodigious letter-writer and a consultant to monk, bishop and pope. St. Augustine (August 28) said of him, "What Jerome is ignorant of, no mortal has ever known." 

St. Jerome is particularly important for having made a translation of the Bible which came to be called the Vulgate. It is not the most critical edition of the Bible, but its acceptance by the Church was fortunate. As a modern scholar says, "No man before Jerome or among his contemporaries and very few men for many centuries afterwards were so well qualified to do the work." The Council of Trent called for a new and corrected edition of the Vulgate, and declared it the authentic text to be used in the Church. 

In order to be able to do such work, Jerome prepared himself well. He was a master of Latin, Greek, Hebrew and Chaldaic. He began his studies at his birthplace, Stridon in Dalmatia (in the former Yugoslavia). After his preliminary education he went to Rome, the center of learning at that time, and thence to Trier, Germany, where the scholar was very much in evidence. He spent several years in each place, always trying to find the very best teachers. He once served as private secretary of Pope Damasus (December 11). 

After these preparatory studies he traveled extensively in Palestine, marking each spot of Christ's life with an outpouring of devotion. Mystic that he was, he spent five years in the desert of Chalcis so that he might give himself up to prayer, penance and study. Finally he settled in Bethlehem, where he lived in the cave believed to have been the birthplace of Christ. On September 30 in the year 420, Jerome died in Bethlehem. The remains of his body now lie buried in the Basilica of St. Mary Major in Rome. 

3 comments:

  1. Lovely. Thanks, Hrothgar. As you may remember the Ringling Brothers (the great circus owners) had an art collection and much loved paintings with St. Jerome, not because of his biblical translation but because of his lion.

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  2. Happy memories of the Ringling Gallery. I wonder if they knew, as I learnt at school (not in the classroom, in the playground), that the Equator is a menagerie lion running round the world . . .

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  3. Here is a little comment on St Jerome from the delightful Phyllis McGinley:

    God's angry man, His crotchety scholar,
    Was Saint Jerome,
    The great name-caller,
    Who cared not a dime
    For the laws of libel
    And in his spare time
    Translated the Bible.
    Quick to disparage
    All joys but learning,
    Jerome thought marriage
    Better than burning;
    But didn't like woman's
    Painted cheeks;
    Didn't like Romans,
    Didn't like Greeks,
    Hated Pagans
    For their Pagan ways,
    Yet doted on Cicero all his days.

    A born reformer, cross and gifted
    He scolded mankind
    Sterner than Swift did;
    Worked to save
    The world from the Heathen;
    Fled to a cave
    For peace to breathe in,
    Promptly wherewith
    For miles around
    He filled the air with
    Fury and sound.
    In mighty prose
    For almighty ends,
    He thrust at his foes,
    Quarreled with his friends,
    And served his Master,
    Though with complaint.
    He wasn't a plaster
    Sort of saint.

    But he swelled men's minds
    With a Christian leaven.
    It takes all kinds
    To make a heaven.

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