In the tradition of The Return of Martin Guerre and The Great Cat Massacre , Miracles at the Jesus Oak is a rich, evocative journey into the past and the extraordinary events that transformed the lives of ordinary people.
In the musty archive of a Belgian abbey, historian Craig Harline happened upon a vast collection of documents written in the seventeenth century by people who claimed to have experienced miracles and wonders. In Miracles at the Jesus Oak , Harline recasts five of these testimonies into engaging vignettes that open a window onto the believers, unbelievers, and religious movements of Catholic Europe in the Age of Reformation.
Miracles at the Jesus Oak transports readers to the seventeenth-century Spanish Netherlands and into the company of a flesh and blood and captivating set of people. Combining meticulous historical research and storytelling élan, Harline writes about the competition for pilgrims waged between a group of tailors and a group of nuns; takes readers inside the emotional turmoil of a young prostitute who secretly takes away a consecrated host from Mass; explores the political and religious ramifications that arise when a woman’s breasts miraculously fill with milk enabling her to feed a starving infant; and in the title story, describes how two towns fight each other for control of the miracle-working oak tree that lies between them.
Craig Harline’s previous books have won the praises of both the mainstream and the religious press. The Weekly Standard said A Bishop’s Tale “reads like the very best historical fiction . . . the history book of the year–and perhaps simply the book of the year.” Written with grace and charm, Miracles at the Jesus Oak is popular history at its most informative and enlightening.
This engrossing volume is - at least nominally - a history book about 17th century miracle accounts from the Spanish Netherlands. The choice of period and setting is not coincidental - this was the height of the Reformation, and the Spanish Netherlands (roughly equivalent to present-day Belgium) were Catholic territory right at the frontier with the Protestant Northern world. In such a politically and theologically hot battleground, miracles could be controversial affairs. Whilst, on the one hand, most Catholic believers (supported by certain factions of the Church) embraced miraculous signs enthusiastically in the face of Protestant scepticism, the Catholic establishment took a more cautious approach, lest it be duped into recognising fraudulent signs and cures and thus provide fodder to Protestant propaganda. As a result, miracles (or alleged ones) from that particular era are particularly well-documented. The records provide some interesting surprises. Thus, it could well be that some cures which appeared quite extraordinary were not formally recognised as miraculous - and this, for a number of reasons, not all of them theological. Various factors - again, not necessarily purely religious - determined which shrines achieved popularity and which, like the "Jesus Oak" shrine of the title, had a more modest success.
Most histories written with the general public in mind adopt an approach whereby a specific case-study is then used as a pretext for an exploration of the wider cultural context. This book is no exception - but it should be said that Harline is particularly good at this. As the chapters progress, the link to "miracles" becomes more tenuous but the subjects touched upon increase exponentially. A chapter regarding an ex-prostitute who blasphemously disposes of the Sacred Host, gives us an insight into (i) the world of prostitution and the criminal underworld in the 17th century (ii) investigative procedures of the church tribunals (iii) Catholic theology about the Eucharist (iv) witches, spells, black magic and witch-trials. Similarly, a chapter about the trial of "natural scientist" Jan Baptista van Helmont, author of a text about an inventive cure for gun wounds (spoiler - one of the ingredients involved is moss from a human skull), sparks a discussion on alchemy and its role the development of science. Detailed biographical notes at the end of the book show the extent of the subjects covered and the depth of research carried out by the author, whilst providing a tantalising reading list for anyone wanting to delve deeper into specific topics.
Harline also knows how to write entertainingly - he recognizes a good story when he sees one and recounts it with gusto and a sense of humour. As a historian worth his salt, he treats his subject at arm's length and with a dose of scepticism. Yet, his approach is balanced and fair - it is refreshing to read a popular history text which genuinely tries to understand and explain the cultural context rather than relying on lazy assumptions (for instance, that the religious establishment was always opposed to science or that miracles were merely "church propaganda"). The personal touches in the prologue and epilogue also show that academia need not be dry and aseptic. On the contrary, it is the human element which makes a historian emphatize with his subjects, treating them uncondescendingly and bringing them to life for our enjoyment and instruction.
never thought I'd say this but I was mildly annoyed by the intimate narrative style. emotional whiplash from all the other the academic reading that doesn't care if I live or die. nice spring vibes, though. enjoyed googling the Belgian churches, speculating about Rubens, and learning magnetic cures for gunshot wounds.
My capstone course in college was on microhistory and this is one of the books we read. It retells multiple stories about miracles in Reformation Europe. I loved it!
I had to read this book for my history class and was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. The stories were very interesting and it blows my mind that they were all real. A very cool read.