"He commanded them to rebuild the Temple." ~ Julian the Apostate's spectacular failure to reconstruct the Temple in Jerusalem in AD 363

"For I am rebuilding with all zeal the temple of the Most High God." –Julian the Apostate
as preserved in De Mensibus written by John Lydus, 6th century AD

Like clockwork, whenever there's a military conflict in the Middle East, articles begin popping up regarding the rebuilding of the Third Jewish Temple in Jerusalem. Some claim that construction is already secretly underway. Others maintain that the Temple can not be rebuilt except by the Messiah. The topic even came up at a White House press briefing last October when a reporter asked Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt if the topic of rebuilding the Temple had been brought up in Trump cabinet meetings.

"It has not," Ms. Leavitt replied. "No it hasn't"

Given that the Temple Mount is currently occupied by the Al-Aqsa mosque, building the Third Temple would entail destroying the third holiest site in Islam. So for the foreseeable future, it seems that no serious attempt can be made. And honestly, it's better that way.

The Second Temple was destroyed by the Romans in AD 70 at the climax of the Jewish Revolt. Christ Himself predicted the Temple's annihilation some 40 years before the fact as recorded in the Gospel of Saint Matthew 24:1-2:

And Jesus being come out of the temple, went away. And His disciples came to show Him the buildings of the temple.  And He answering, said to them: "Do you see all these things? Amen I say to you there shall not be left here a stone upon a stone that shall not be destroyed."

The looting and razing of the Second Temple by Roman soldiers after the capture of Jerusalem is memorialized on the Arch of Titus in Rome.

Roman relief showing the looting of the Second Temple in Jerusalem by the soldiers of Titus.

The subsequent Bar Kokhba rebellion, which ended in AD 136, resulted in the defeat of the Jews by the Romans and their expulsion from Judea.

Between then and the present day, only one serious attempt was made to reconstruct the Jewish Temple on the Temple Mount. That effort was spearheaded by the Roman emperor Julian the Apostate in the early 360s AD. According to the 5th century historian Hermias Sozomen, whose Ecclesiastical History is well worth reading in its entirety, Julian showed favor to the Jewish people, but this was not inspired by any particular love for them. Instead, his goodwill toward the Jews was motivated by a desire to provoke his former co-religionists:

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Though the emperor hated and oppressed the Christians, he manifested benevolence and humanity towards the Jews. He wrote to the Jewish patriarchs and leaders, as well as to the people, requesting them to pray for him, and for the prosperity of the empire. In taking this step he was not actuated, I am convinced, by any respect for their religion; for he was aware that it is, so to speak, the mother of the Christian religion, and he knew that both religions rest upon the authority of the patriarchs and the prophets; but he thought to grieve the Christians by favoring the Jews, who are their most inveterate enemies. [Ecclesiastical History of Sozomen, Book V, Chapter 22]

Sozomen offers the following rationale for why Julian allowed and encouraged the Jews to rebuild the temple:

[Julian] sent for some of the chiefs of the race and exhorted them to return to the observance of the laws of Moses and the customs of their fathers. On their replying that because the temple in Jerusalem was overturned, it was neither lawful nor ancestral to do this in another place than the metropolis out of which they had been cast, he gave them public money, commanded them to rebuild the temple, and to practice the cult similar to that of their ancestors, by sacrificing after the ancient way. [Ecclesiastical History of Sozomen, Book V, Chapter 22]

With the cautionary wisdom of hindsight, Sozomen explains how fully and joyfully the Jews—and even many pagans—took to the monumental, but ultimately futile, task:

The Jews entered upon the undertaking, without reflecting that, according to the prediction of the holy prophets, it could not be accomplished. They sought for the most skillful artisans, collected materials, cleared the ground, and entered so earnestly upon the task, that even the women carried heaps of earth, and brought their necklaces and other female ornaments towards defraying the expense. The emperor, the other pagans, and all the Jews, regarded every other undertaking as secondary in importance to this. Although the pagans were not well-disposed towards the Jews, yet they assisted them in this enterprise, because they reckoned upon its ultimate success, and hoped by this means to falsify the prophecies of Christ. Besides this motive, the Jews themselves were impelled by the consideration that the time had arrived for rebuilding their temple. [Ecclesiastical History of Sozomen, Book V, Chapter 22]

They had not long been at this work, however, when tragedy struck:

When they had removed the ruins of the former building, they dug up the ground and cleared away its foundation; it is said that on the following day when they were about to lay the first foundation, a great earthquake occurred, and by the violent agitation of the earth, stones were thrown up from the depths, by which those of the Jews who were engaged in the work were wounded, as likewise those who were merely looking on. The houses and public porticos, near the site of the temple, in which they had diverted themselves, were suddenly thrown down; many were caught thereby, some perished immediately, others were found half dead and mutilated of hands or legs, others were injured in other parts of the body. [Ecclesiastical History of Sozomen, Book V, Chapter 22]

This earthquake, which is well attested in literary sources of the period and via archaeological evidence, was very destructive, but it was not enough to discourage these eager builders from a task which was mandated not only by the emperor but, they felt, by God himself. Yet, their desire to resume the work met such a serious check that the builders found themselves unable to continue:

[I]nstead of regarding this unexpected earthquake as a manifest indication that God was opposed to the re-erection of their temple, [the Jews] proceeded to recommence the work. But all parties relate, that they had scarcely returned to the undertaking, when fire burst suddenly from the foundations of the temple, and consumed several of the workmen. This fact is fearlessly stated, and believed by all; the only discrepancy in the narrative is that some maintain that flame burst from the interior of the temple, as the workmen were striving to force an entrance, while others say that the fire proceeded directly from the earth. In whichever way the phenomenon might have occurred, it is equally wonderful. [Ecclesiastical History of Sozomen, Book V, Chapter 22]

This second disaster was enough to dampen the ardor of even the most enthusiastic of the re-builders. Beyond that, Sozomen claims that yet another miraculous occurrence connected to the Temple re-build led many to embrace the Christian religion: 

A more tangible and still more extraordinary prodigy ensued; suddenly the sign of the cross appeared spontaneously on the garments of the persons engaged in the undertaking. These crosses were disposed like stars, and appeared the work of art. Many were hence led to confess that Christ is God, and that the rebuilding of the temple was not pleasing to Him; others presented themselves in the church, were initiated, and besought Christ, with hymns and supplications, to pardon their transgression. [Ecclesiastical History of Sozomen, Book V, Chapter 22]

These events took place in AD 363, a few months before Julian himself was killed while on campaign in Persia. With the emperor's death, the Christian Jovian was elevated to the throne, thus ending the short-lived reconstruction effort on the Temple Mount.

It is easy to discard Sozomen's account as the fantastical tale of a later Christian. While it's true that Sozomen was not a contemporary of Julian, he was likely born within 20 to 30 years of Julian's demise, and was actively writing within the living memory of the events. It should also be remembered that Sozomen was a native of Bethelia, a town in Roman Palestine near Gaza, and it is clear from his writing about other historical episodes in and around Palestine that he was intimately familiar with the local lore. From his closing passage on this particular topic, Sozomen hints that he himself had spoken to those who witnessed the failed effort to resurrect the Jewish Temple:

If any one does not feel disposed to believe my narrative, let him go and be convinced by those who heard the facts I have related from the eyewitnesses of them, for they are still alive. Let him inquire, also, of the Jews and pagans who left the work in an incomplete state, or who, to speak more accurately, were able to commence it. [Ecclesiastical History of Sozomen, Book V, Chapter 22]

For any who may find the preceding story a tough one to swallow coming as it does from an unapologetic Christian source of great antiquity, perhaps consider that there are numerous other accounts of it, including one from the Roman History of Ammianus Marcellinus. Recall that Marcellinus was a pagan and furthermore, was a direct contemporary of Julian, even accompanying that emperor on his doomed campaign against the Persians. His short account of Julian's efforts regarding the Temple reads as follows:

[B]eing eager to extend the recollection of his reign by the greatness of his exploits, [Julian] proposed to rebuild at a vast expense the once magnificent temple of Jerusalem, which after many deadly contests was with difficulty taken by Vespasian and Titus, who succeeded his father in the conduct of the siege. And he assigned the task to Alypius of Antioch, who had formerly been proprefect of Britain. But though Alypius applied himself vigorously to the work, and though the governor of the province co-operated with him, fearful balls of fire burst forth with continual eruptions close to the foundations, burning several of the workmen and making the spot altogether inaccessible. And thus the very elements, as if by some fate, repelling the attempt, it was laid aside. [The Roman History of Ammianus Marcellinus, Book XXIII, Chapter 1]

This and the several similar accounts found in the works of St. Gregory Nazianzan, Socrates Scholasticus, St. John Chrysostom, and even oblique references in the extant fragments of Julian's own letters, make it abundantly clear that the Julian the Apostate did make an attempt to rebuild the Jerusalem Temple, and this this effort failed under mysterious—perhaps miraculous—circumstances.

For a deeper dive into the multitude of ancient sources which recorded this event, visit the Eternal Christendom site.

Here are links to several additional articles on Julian that have appeared on this blog. If nothing else, Julian is a fascinating historical figure. Though unlikely, it may be hoped that he repented on his deathbed.

• A passionate longing to acquire (and destroy) books ~ The cognitive dissonance of Julian the Apostate 
• The Sudden Collapse of Greco-Roman Paganism and Rise of Christianity during the 4th century AD ~ Some Stark Clues Courtesy of Julian the Apostate
• "A monarch more wicked than all the nations of the earth" ~ Julian the Apostate and the martyrdom of Saints Juventius and Maximus
• "He hated the entire city intensely" ~ St. Eupsychius and Julian the Apostate's reaction to the destruction of the Temple of Fortune in Caesarea in Cappadocia
• December 2 ~ Saint Bibiana, 4th century martyr during the reign of Julian the Apostate.
• "Martyrs Neither Ignoble Nor Few" ~ The death of Hypatia and mob violence against Christians during the reign of Julian the Apostate

"Wherever the foot chanced to fall it rested on ashes." ~ The Great Peshtigo Fire, Adele Brice, and The Woman in the Trees

Servant of God Adele Brice surrounded by the children Our Lady called her to teach.

The National Shrine of Our Lady of Champion (originally known as Our Lady of Good Help), is the only formally approved Marian apparition site in the United States. Considering the site is near Green Bay, Wisconsin, I had at one time, in my profound ignorance, assumed that it must have something to do with the Packers various Super Bowl victories. 

But no. The site has nothing to do with Vince Lombardi, Brett Farve, or Aaron Rogers. It is much more closely associated with Our Lady, Star of the Sea, than Bart Starr. 

My general lack of knowledge about this shrine has been remedied to a reasonable degree by reading the novel The Woman in the Trees by Theoni Bell. This relatively recent work arrived among a box of books from TAN slated for our parish bookrack. I snatched it up immediately, suspecting that it would make for good Lenten reading. I was not disappointed.

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The Woman in the Trees sets out to tell the origin story of the Shrine of Our Lady of Champion through the eyes of a fictional immigrant girl from Belgium, Slainie Lafont. The story of the Shrine is told from an oblique angle which adds an enticing touch of mystery to the factual elements of the tale. Servant of God Adele Brice, the recipient of our Lady's apparition in 1859, is not one of the central characters of the book. Instead she flits in and out of the story like a guardian angel, arriving when she is most needed. Her impact on the main characters however, particularly Slainie and her irascible and immovably stubborn mother, is profound.

As a visionary, Adele does not follow the archetype set by the simple radiant beauty of Saint Bernadette. Nor does she appear like one of the wide-eyed innocents who received the locutions of Our Lady of Fatima. On the contrary, Adele had suffered a particularly horrible facial injury as a child which left her scarred and missing an eye. Yet despite her potentially frightening appearance, Adele persevered in the mission given to her by Our Lady to "gather the children in this wild country and teach them what they should know for salvation."

This novel is of that type of historical fiction that I enjoy the most in that it creates memorable characters and weaves them in, around, and through the history without making them a Pollyanna or secret genius without whom the defining events could not have happened. The novel entertains and informs at the same time. Best of all, it brings the history to life and makes the reader want to learn more about that newly settled woodland region of Wisconsin in the mid-19th century in general, and the Shrine of Our Lady of Champion in particular. Among the historical events that impact the story are the immigration of Walloons from Belgium to Wisconsin, the American Civil War, and most especially, the Great Peshtigo Fire of 1871.

If you've never heard of the Peshtigo Fire, you're not alone. Strangely enough, it happened on the same day—October 8, 1871—as the better remembered Great Chicago Fire. But as horrible as the Chicago fire may have been, the great Peshtigo Fire was much worse. In the space of 24 hours, the firestorm scorched an area of about 1.2 million acres of forest and farmland in eastern Wisconsin. The burn zone included several towns, and the fire moved so quickly, that thousands of people were unable to flee in time. The death toll was never fully determined. It was estimated that somewhere around 2,000 people were killed.

In the middle of the burn zone was the small shrine of Our Lady of Good Help and a few surrounding buildings. The shrine chapel itself was a small wooden structure which had been set up by the family of Servant of God Adele Brice at the spot where Our Lady had appeared to Adele as a young girl twelve years before. During the intervening years, as Adele's apostolate flourished, a convent and school building were added nearby the chapel. 

19th century engraving from Harper's Weekly showing the devastation wrought by the fire.

As the firestorm approached on October 8, many people from the surrounding farms and villages fled to the chapel. Led by Sister Adele, they prayed the Rosary, sang hymns, and processed around the chapel with the image of the Blessed Virgin before them. 

The great firestorm raged all around them. It burned the outside of the fence surrounding the shrine buildings—but proceeded no further. 

Early the next morning, a soaking downpour doused the fire.

When the smoke finally cleared, the area around the shrine was a scene of apocalyptic destruction. An eyewitness who very nearly lost his life in the fire, Father Peter Pernin, described the what he saw in Peshtigo when he returned three days after the fire:

About one o'clock in the afternoon, a car was leaving for Peshtigo, conveying thither men who went daily there for the purpose of seeking out and burying the dead. I took my place with them. The locomotives belonging to the Company, having been burned, were now replaced by horses, and we progressed thus till we came up with the track of the fire. We walked the rest of the way, a distance of half a league, and this gave me ample opportunity for examining thoroughly the devastation and ruin wrought, both by fire and by wind. Alas, as much as I had heard on the sad subject, I was still unprepared for the melancholy spectacle that met my gaze.

lt is a painful thing to have to speak of scenes which we feel convinced no pen could fully describe nor words do justice to. It was on the eleventh of October, Wednesday afternoon, that I revisited for the first time the site of what had once been the town of Peshtigo.

Of the houses, trees, fences that I had looked on three days ago nothing whatever remained save a few blackened posts still standing, as if to attest the impetuous fury of the fiery element that had thus destroyed all before it. Wherever the foot chanced to fall it rested on ashes. The iron tracks of the railroad had been twisted and curved into all sorts of shapes, whilst the wood which had supported them no longer existed. The trunks of mighty trees had been reduced to mere cinders, the blackened hearts alone remaining. All around these trunks, I perceived a number of holes running downwards deep in the earth. They were the sockets where the roots had lately been. I plunged my cane into one of them, thinking what must the violence of that fire have been, which ravaged not only the surface of the earth, but penetrated so deeply into its bosom. 

Then I turned my wondering gaze in the direction where the town had lately stood, but nothing remained to point out its site except the boilers of the two locomotives, the iron of the wagon wheels, and the brick and stonework of the factory. All the rest was a desert the desolation of which was sufficient to draw tears from the eyes of the spectator—a desert recalling a field of battle after a sanguinary conflict. Charred carcasses of horses, cows, oxen, and other animals lay scattered here and there. The bodies of the human victims—men, women, and children—had been already collected and decently interred, their number being easily ascertained by counting the rows of freshly-made graves. ("The Great Peshtigo Fire: An Eyewitness Account," Wisconsin Magazine of History, 1971)

Given the totality of the destruction, the fact that the shrine of Our Lady of Good Help survived intact has been considered by many to be a miraculous sign of God's mercy. 

The entirety of Fr. Pernin's account may be found at the link above and is well worth a read.

Also well worth reading is The Woman in the Trees. I highly recommend the novel for young readers of age 11 or 12 and older. It makes for a quick, easy, and satisfying read for adults as well—an ideal book to read aloud with your kids.

Click here to find out more about the Shrine of Our Lady of Champion.

Click here to learn about Adele Brice's cause for canonization.