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Baby Jesus Figure Biography
Among th treasures of the Royal Monastery of Saint Elizabeth in Madrid is this sixteenth-century wooden figure of Baby Jesus. The Augustinian Recollect Sisters still have a vivid memory of Saint Josemaría, then a young priest, who was their chaplain from 1931 and rector of the Foundation from 1934. He wrote in his personal notes: “On my way out of the cloister they showed me, in the vestibule, a Christ Child which was a darling. I have never seen a better-looking Baby Jesus! Totally captivating. They uncovered it. He has his little arms crossed on his breast and his eyes half open. Beautiful. I ate him up with kisses and… would have loved to kidnap him.”
He often used to ask them for the figure to take it home with him. It was closely linked to many happenings deep within his soul, favors and special graces. Today the sisters still call it “Father Josemaría’s Baby Jesus”.
In the book Immersed in God - an interview with Álvaro del Portillo, (Cesare Cavalleri, Princeton, 1996) Mgr Alvaro del Portillo says that Mother Carmen of Saint Joseph “remembers that when the Baby Jesus was in the sacristy of the church during the Christmas season, she would often see how Father Josemaría would talk to it, sing to it and rock it, as if it was a real baby.”
“The Child Jesus,” wrote Saint Josemaría. “How this devotion has taken hold of me since I first laid eyes on that consummate Thief that my nuns keep in the vestibule of their cloister! Child Jesus, adolescent Jesus – I like to see you that way, Lord, because… it makes me more daring. I like to see you as a little boy, a helpless child, because it makes me feel like you need me.”
So today is El Día de la Candelaria which marks the 40th day since Christmas. In many ancient cultures, a woman who has just given birth is considered 'unclean' and must be kept in isolation, or not bathe, or not go outside, or not have intercourse for 40 days after the baby's birth; in latino culture it's called la cuarentena. It is said that the Virgen María was not able to take baby Jesus to the temple to be blessed until February 2nd. The tradition has been carried on to take one's baby Jesus figure from the nativity set to church to be blessed on this day. Apparently the complimentary cloth diaper that comes with the baby Jesus is not appropriate church attire, so women started making little baptismal rompers to dress their Niño Dios for the occasion. Growing up my mom and the aunts made their rompers out of satin, and lace, and silk, and knitted yarn, but holy smokes have these fashions evolved in ways that not even Karl Lagerfeld could have envisioned.
Traditional Baby Jesus.
A couple of weeks back I was at a local swap meet and I saw a lady carrying a giant ceramic baby Jesus. It was such an odd sight and my curiosity was sparked, so I discretely followed her to a stand that typically sells baptismal and first communion fashions, but had temporarily been transformed to a celestial fashion boutique. Evidently, the tradition has metamorphosed in a way that people choose to dress their Niño Dios as their favorite saint, as a soccer player, as a doctor, or even as - get this - a hipster. Naively, I took out my phone to take some photos but was quickly shut down by one of the employees (apparently they don't want people taking photos because they fear their designs will be knocked off... as if everything else in the swap meet is not?)
For many families, a highlight of the Christmas season is putting together their nativity set. Everyone takes part, and often the youngest child gets to put the Baby Jesus in the manger, though perhaps not until Christmas Eve.
“Stefano and the Christmas Miracles,” by Paul Salsini, published by CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (Oct. 11, 2012); 126 pages. Weeks before Christmas, little Stefano sits down with his grandfather Nonno and they begin to put together their Nativity scene, or presepio, adding one figure each day. Nonno tells Stefano the amazing story of each of the miniature people and about the wondrous miracles that happen when they visit the Baby Jesus.
When I was writing my new book for children, “Stefano and the Christmas Miracles,” I did some research about the history of Nativity sets (crèche in French, presepio in Italian, szopka in Polish, Weihnachtskrippe in German).
It was a fascinating history. I found that the first known image of the Nativity scene dates back to the first half of the third century. In a now-faded fresco in the Catacombs of Priscilla in Rome, Mary holds the Baby Jesus on her knees and a man stands nearby. The man could be Joseph, but scholars believe it is more likely a prophet, Balaam or Isaiah, because he is pointing to a star, presumably the Star of Bethlehem.
In the following centuries, other frescos were painted in catacombs. One in the Catacomb of St. Sebastian doesn’t show Mary or Joseph, but there’s a manger and a donkey and an ox. Then, in the fourth and fifth centuries, the figures of Mary, Joseph and the Baby Jesus were carved in bas-relief on marble sarcophagi.
In Italy, the first presepio is attributed to the sculptor Arnolfo di Cambio, built around 1289 for the Basilica of St. Mary Major in Rome (which also contains pieces of wood allegedly from the original manger). Some of the marble figures have been lost, and only the original Joseph, three kings and the ox and donkey survive.
St. Francis has often been called the father of the nativity scene and it is true that, in 1223, he famously created a “living” representation of the scene with at least a donkey and an ox. Francis was visiting the village of Greccio in Umbria at Christmas time, and finding the Franciscan chapel there too small, he decided to celebrate Midnight Mass on the town square. He produced a scene of the Nativity that, according to legend, also had real people dressed in biblical robes with a wax figure of the Baby Jesus in the manger.
That may not be entirely true. In a biography of Francis written 37 years after the saint’s death, St. Bonaventure, himself a Franciscan, says only thatFrancis “prepared a manger, and brought hay and an ox and an ass to the place appointed.”
There’s no mention of people, but Bonaventure also says: “The hay of that manger, being preserved by the people, miraculously cured all diseases of cattle, and many other pestilences.”
Whether that first living crèche scene was elaborate or not, the idea of having real people enact the Bethlehem story grew, and it was a popular subject in medieval mystery plays. When these got out of hand, the Catholic Church declared that only static representations of the Nativity should be permitted.
Italian craftsmen responded with wooden presepi in the 14th and 15th centuries and members of the della Robbia family created many images of the Nativity scene in terracotta.
But it was in Naples in the 18th century that the presepio achieved its greatest glory. King Charles III set the example by building an elaborate scene in the palace, and wealthy families followed suit. The displays consisted not only of the traditional Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, shepherds, angels and kings, but also fantastic market scenes crowded with merchants, butchers, shoppers and fishermen. Unfortunately, the Baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph were sometimes lost in these bustling panoramas.
Although these sets are now mainly in private collections and museums, the House of Fontanini in Tuscany continues the Neapolitan marketplace tradition,turning out figures of ordinary people doing ordinary things – a woman with a duck, a man with a sack of grain, a man who looks like a beggar, a farmer holding a basket, a boy playing a reed-pipe, and on and on, dozens of them.
In my book, a grandfather tells his grandson the story of each of the figures in their manger scene, how they went to see the Baby Jesus and the miracles that happened to them there
When I look at the figures in my Nativity set each Christmas, I wonder if they represent real people who visited the Baby Jesus in the manger. Who’s to say they did not? After all, the Bible can’t tell us everything that happened that glorious night, and isn’t Christmas a time for believing in miracles?
(Salsini, who teaches journalism courses at Marquette University, is the author of four novels set in Tuscany. “Stefano and the Christmas Miracles” is available at Boswell Books, Stemper’s and the Marian Center in Milwaukee, Amazon.com and other online distributors.)
Baby Jesus Figure Biography
Among th treasures of the Royal Monastery of Saint Elizabeth in Madrid is this sixteenth-century wooden figure of Baby Jesus. The Augustinian Recollect Sisters still have a vivid memory of Saint Josemaría, then a young priest, who was their chaplain from 1931 and rector of the Foundation from 1934. He wrote in his personal notes: “On my way out of the cloister they showed me, in the vestibule, a Christ Child which was a darling. I have never seen a better-looking Baby Jesus! Totally captivating. They uncovered it. He has his little arms crossed on his breast and his eyes half open. Beautiful. I ate him up with kisses and… would have loved to kidnap him.”
He often used to ask them for the figure to take it home with him. It was closely linked to many happenings deep within his soul, favors and special graces. Today the sisters still call it “Father Josemaría’s Baby Jesus”.
In the book Immersed in God - an interview with Álvaro del Portillo, (Cesare Cavalleri, Princeton, 1996) Mgr Alvaro del Portillo says that Mother Carmen of Saint Joseph “remembers that when the Baby Jesus was in the sacristy of the church during the Christmas season, she would often see how Father Josemaría would talk to it, sing to it and rock it, as if it was a real baby.”
“The Child Jesus,” wrote Saint Josemaría. “How this devotion has taken hold of me since I first laid eyes on that consummate Thief that my nuns keep in the vestibule of their cloister! Child Jesus, adolescent Jesus – I like to see you that way, Lord, because… it makes me more daring. I like to see you as a little boy, a helpless child, because it makes me feel like you need me.”
So today is El Día de la Candelaria which marks the 40th day since Christmas. In many ancient cultures, a woman who has just given birth is considered 'unclean' and must be kept in isolation, or not bathe, or not go outside, or not have intercourse for 40 days after the baby's birth; in latino culture it's called la cuarentena. It is said that the Virgen María was not able to take baby Jesus to the temple to be blessed until February 2nd. The tradition has been carried on to take one's baby Jesus figure from the nativity set to church to be blessed on this day. Apparently the complimentary cloth diaper that comes with the baby Jesus is not appropriate church attire, so women started making little baptismal rompers to dress their Niño Dios for the occasion. Growing up my mom and the aunts made their rompers out of satin, and lace, and silk, and knitted yarn, but holy smokes have these fashions evolved in ways that not even Karl Lagerfeld could have envisioned.
Traditional Baby Jesus.
A couple of weeks back I was at a local swap meet and I saw a lady carrying a giant ceramic baby Jesus. It was such an odd sight and my curiosity was sparked, so I discretely followed her to a stand that typically sells baptismal and first communion fashions, but had temporarily been transformed to a celestial fashion boutique. Evidently, the tradition has metamorphosed in a way that people choose to dress their Niño Dios as their favorite saint, as a soccer player, as a doctor, or even as - get this - a hipster. Naively, I took out my phone to take some photos but was quickly shut down by one of the employees (apparently they don't want people taking photos because they fear their designs will be knocked off... as if everything else in the swap meet is not?)
For many families, a highlight of the Christmas season is putting together their nativity set. Everyone takes part, and often the youngest child gets to put the Baby Jesus in the manger, though perhaps not until Christmas Eve.
“Stefano and the Christmas Miracles,” by Paul Salsini, published by CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (Oct. 11, 2012); 126 pages. Weeks before Christmas, little Stefano sits down with his grandfather Nonno and they begin to put together their Nativity scene, or presepio, adding one figure each day. Nonno tells Stefano the amazing story of each of the miniature people and about the wondrous miracles that happen when they visit the Baby Jesus.
When I was writing my new book for children, “Stefano and the Christmas Miracles,” I did some research about the history of Nativity sets (crèche in French, presepio in Italian, szopka in Polish, Weihnachtskrippe in German).
It was a fascinating history. I found that the first known image of the Nativity scene dates back to the first half of the third century. In a now-faded fresco in the Catacombs of Priscilla in Rome, Mary holds the Baby Jesus on her knees and a man stands nearby. The man could be Joseph, but scholars believe it is more likely a prophet, Balaam or Isaiah, because he is pointing to a star, presumably the Star of Bethlehem.
In the following centuries, other frescos were painted in catacombs. One in the Catacomb of St. Sebastian doesn’t show Mary or Joseph, but there’s a manger and a donkey and an ox. Then, in the fourth and fifth centuries, the figures of Mary, Joseph and the Baby Jesus were carved in bas-relief on marble sarcophagi.
In Italy, the first presepio is attributed to the sculptor Arnolfo di Cambio, built around 1289 for the Basilica of St. Mary Major in Rome (which also contains pieces of wood allegedly from the original manger). Some of the marble figures have been lost, and only the original Joseph, three kings and the ox and donkey survive.
St. Francis has often been called the father of the nativity scene and it is true that, in 1223, he famously created a “living” representation of the scene with at least a donkey and an ox. Francis was visiting the village of Greccio in Umbria at Christmas time, and finding the Franciscan chapel there too small, he decided to celebrate Midnight Mass on the town square. He produced a scene of the Nativity that, according to legend, also had real people dressed in biblical robes with a wax figure of the Baby Jesus in the manger.
That may not be entirely true. In a biography of Francis written 37 years after the saint’s death, St. Bonaventure, himself a Franciscan, says only thatFrancis “prepared a manger, and brought hay and an ox and an ass to the place appointed.”
There’s no mention of people, but Bonaventure also says: “The hay of that manger, being preserved by the people, miraculously cured all diseases of cattle, and many other pestilences.”
Whether that first living crèche scene was elaborate or not, the idea of having real people enact the Bethlehem story grew, and it was a popular subject in medieval mystery plays. When these got out of hand, the Catholic Church declared that only static representations of the Nativity should be permitted.
Italian craftsmen responded with wooden presepi in the 14th and 15th centuries and members of the della Robbia family created many images of the Nativity scene in terracotta.
But it was in Naples in the 18th century that the presepio achieved its greatest glory. King Charles III set the example by building an elaborate scene in the palace, and wealthy families followed suit. The displays consisted not only of the traditional Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, shepherds, angels and kings, but also fantastic market scenes crowded with merchants, butchers, shoppers and fishermen. Unfortunately, the Baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph were sometimes lost in these bustling panoramas.
Although these sets are now mainly in private collections and museums, the House of Fontanini in Tuscany continues the Neapolitan marketplace tradition,turning out figures of ordinary people doing ordinary things – a woman with a duck, a man with a sack of grain, a man who looks like a beggar, a farmer holding a basket, a boy playing a reed-pipe, and on and on, dozens of them.
In my book, a grandfather tells his grandson the story of each of the figures in their manger scene, how they went to see the Baby Jesus and the miracles that happened to them there
When I look at the figures in my Nativity set each Christmas, I wonder if they represent real people who visited the Baby Jesus in the manger. Who’s to say they did not? After all, the Bible can’t tell us everything that happened that glorious night, and isn’t Christmas a time for believing in miracles?
(Salsini, who teaches journalism courses at Marquette University, is the author of four novels set in Tuscany. “Stefano and the Christmas Miracles” is available at Boswell Books, Stemper’s and the Marian Center in Milwaukee, Amazon.com and other online distributors.)
Baby Jesus Figure
Baby Jesus Figure
Baby Jesus Figure
Baby Jesus Figure
Baby Jesus Figure
Baby Jesus Figure
Baby Jesus Figure
Baby Jesus Figure
Baby Jesus Figure
Baby Jesus Figure
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