Tag: Catholicism

Everything You Wanted to Know About the Infant of Prague

So ubiquitous was the Infant of Prague statue in West Side homes that as a child, I assumed every house in the world had one.

Some readers (mostly non-Catholics) have expressed curiosity about the references in my recent novel, Virgin Snow, to a type of statue known as “the Infant of Prague.” In the story, one of the characters decides to open a shop in her garage where she will create and sell beautiful garments for people to dress their statues, which represent Jesus as a child.

This scene was inspired by an actual Infant of Prague shop operated for years by a woman named Lena in a store front on Buffalo’s West Side. Many was the day that I walked by the window to check out Lena’s new garments, which changed in both color and style along with the Catholic liturgical seasons.

The crown on the head of the statue symbolizes Christ as king. All photos by Moxie Gardiner

So ubiquitous was the Infant of Prague statue in West Side homes that as a child, I assumed every house in the world had one. It did not occur to me that others might not, until I actually went to Prague, the capital of the Czech Republic, for a conference. I was traveling with a colleague who asked if we could stop in one of the souvenir shops as we walked back toward our hotel at the end of the day. She said she was hoping to find a small statue made famous by the city. “You mean the Infant of Prague, right?” I asked. She looked at me strangely.

“No,” she said. “I want to buy a statue of the Golem of Prague.” Now I looked at her strangely, as I had never heard of the Golem. So we walked to the Christmas Market on Wenceslas Square (it was early December) and, over a glass of hot Glühwein, we began to tell each other what we knew of these religious figures and their history.

As she began to ask questions, I very quickly realized that despite the number of times I had seen the statue I was familiar with, I didn’t know much about the Infant of Prague. “Why do they call it an infant?” she asked after I described the statue. I didn’t have a very good answer. “Why fancy robes? Why a crown? And what,” she asked finally, “did Jesus have to do with Prague?”

I had my own questions for her about the Golem, a mythical man created out of clay. “He is an important part of Jewish legend,” she said. “But he’s not as elegant as your little king.”

The globe symbolizes Christ’s worldly domain.

Years later, while doing research for my novel, I found answers to many of my friend’s questions. No, the Infant of Prague is not a baby, but a representation of Christ as a child. No, the statue does not have its origins in Prague. According to the website of “The League of the Miraculous Infant Jesus of Prague,” the statue was a royal wedding gift given by a Spanish Princess to her Austrian royal cousin in the 1500s, and later donated to a group of Carmelite friars in Prague. The robes, crown and miniature globe symbolize the “world-wide kingship” of the Christ Child.[1]

Green signifies “ordinary” days in the liturgical calendar. Note, however, the fine gold brocade.

According to that website, many miracles have occurred through “intercession to the Divine Infant.” During one conflict, it says, all the children of the city were taken to the Church for protection, and by praying to the Infant, they were all saved.

I have since learned that there is a similar story about the Golem. [2]  A certain Rabbi Judah Loew of Prague in the 1500s was said to have made a powerful living creature out of mud which he called the Golem, a kind of combination man-monster whose purpose was to defend the Jewish community from violent attacks. Since that time, the Golem has been a popular figure with both Jews and non-Jews. According to several websites, plays, novels, movies, musicals and even a ballet have drawn on the tale of the Golem, including Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Today, a visitor to Prague can even take a “Golem tour” by exploring various locations in the Jewish Quarter.

When I think back to my visit to Prague, I’ll always remember our mutual surprise when my friend and I discovered we were talking about two different religious statues, and then learning how different the two were—one of the Christ child dressed as a king, the other of a towering man made of clay. What strikes me now though, is their similarities. People of many religious traditions who have felt powerless and persecuted at times throughout history understandably turn to the divine or the mystical for salvation, represented by symbols such as these.

I am curious to know how many of my readers had religious statues in their homes while growing up, or were told stories and legends that embraced the sacred, the mystical or the divine. I would also love to know if religion still plays an important role in your life. Please share your comments, below!

Moxie Gardiner is a writer, gardener, and traveler who grew up on the West Side of Buffalo, NY. In a previous life she was a journalist, magazine editor, speech writer, and policy wonk. Back in the day she made three solo parachute jumps, flew in an F-15 fighter jet, and crawled through mud pits at the Jungle Operations Training Course in Panama. She now meditates and practices chair yoga. Virgin Snow is her first novel.

[1] For much more information on the history of the Infant of Prague go to: https://www.ewtn.com/catholicism/library/history-of-the-infant-jesus-of-prague-1329

[2] For additional info on the Golem go to: https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/golem/

When Nuns Ruled the Roost

If you went to Catholic school in the ‘60s or ‘70s, the word “nun” undoubtedly conjures up strong emotions.

Mention the word “nun”[1] to someone who grew up in the Catholic school system, particularly before Vatican II changed everything, and you’re likely to get a strong, visceral reaction ranging from fear and loathing, to worshipful admiration. Boys in particular seem to have ended up on the wrong side of that equation, and stories abound of physical and psychological abuse at the hands of nuns. Girls have their own stories, about nuns cutting their hair if their bangs were too long, or sending them home if their skirts were too short. There is even a word for an irrational fear of nuns—sphenisciphobia—which is, interestingly, the same word for an irrational fear of penguins.

Many nuns came to the classroom having no experience with children, particularly boys. Photo by Museums Victoria on Unsplash

As the product of 13 years of Catholic school education, I have my own stories to tell. A brother locked in the basement of a convent and forgotten for hours. Another whacked in the side of the head with a wooden pointer. And despite my reputation as a “teacher’s pet,” I once felt the slap of a ruler on my own six-year-old palms. My parents, like many other devout Catholics, were conflicted about how to react to this treatment of their children. Many seemed as afraid of the nuns as we were.

Which leads me to wonder, why did these women, devoted to God and works of charity, behave this way? Why did the nuns of yesteryear become the stuff of legends and Hollywood horror films?

Nuns play an important role in my novel-in-progress. My young heroine is coerced into becoming a nun at a time when the life of Catholic “women religious” was in a state of upheaval. So I decided to do more research on these fascinating and mysterious women, and by stepping back, I gained an interesting perspective:

Nuns lived a life circumscribed
by discipline and prayer.
Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash
  • First, let’s remember that corporal punishment was an acceptable form of child-rearing in those days. Many kids in our West Side neighborhood were knocked around by parents, coaches, and scout leaders, and no one thought much of it.
  • Second, some women were forced to become nuns, by parents or by circumstances, and some, no doubt, grew disillusioned and embittered over time. Most of the abuse I remember came from older nuns.
  • Third, many nuns came to the classroom having no experience with children, particularly boys. They entered the convent at a young age, and lived a life of strict discipline and prayer surrounded by other nuns. Few had the education and training teachers have today.
  • Finally, the classroom was the only place these teaching nuns had any real authority. Until the Second Vatican Council completed its work in 1965, men made all the major decisions in the Catholic Church, including rules and regulations governing these women. Some resentment may have spilled over into their treatment of young male students.[2]  

You can also draw your own conclusions about how grouchy one might become without any meaningful contact with the opposite sex. None of this justifies abusive behavior, of course, but it does explain why some nuns were lovely, inspirational human beings, and others were simply mean.

Nuns today no longer have the reputation they once did, in part because their numbers have significantly dwindled (from a high of 180,000 in 1965 to just over 44,000 today), in part because the sisterhood changed dramatically after Vatican II, and in part because religious orders are now attracting millennials who are different from their predecessors. Nuns now have college degrees and religious career choices no longer limited to teaching and nursing. Today they can become, among other things, dieticians, historic building preservation experts, affordable housing experts, and hospital ethics board members. And following in the footsteps of nuns who became “radicalized” post Vatican II, they are politically active and often work with immigrant families, support asylum seekers, and participate in peaceful demonstrations.[3]  

Young millennial nuns have many more career choices today. Photo by hp koch on Unsplash

Nuns, it turns out, both then and today, are not all that different from the rest of us. They have the same desire to live a life of purpose and meaning, and the same human foibles. It was a nun who instilled in me a lifelong love of words, literature, and writing, and I am forever grateful for the way she shaped my mind and my destiny.  She also helped me get over the searing memory of that first grade nun who “ruled” my trembling little hands.

Do you have a memorable “nun” story? I would love to hear your comments!

[1] Many people use the words “nun” and “sister” interchangeably, but technically speaking it was the “sisters” who taught in schools. Nuns traditionally live more cloistered lives. I am taking the liberty of using the colloquial “nun” in this blog because it is the more familiar term.

[2] For an interesting take on the impact of Vatican II on women religious, as well as statistics on their numbers then and now, see “IN EXODUS OF NUNS, FEW TURN BACK,” https://www.chicagotribune.com/news/ct-xpm-1986-03-24-8601210920-story.html

[3] For a fascinating look at the nuns of today see https://www.thelily.com/the-unexpected-life-of-a-millennial-nun/