Got a house for sale? The Bible’s most famous cuckold, Jesus’ adoptive father, can help you move it quickly.
From the Tampa Bay Times:
All over the Tampa Bay area, little plastic Josephs lie buried in lawns large and small, lush and scraggly. They are interred there by people who are trying to sell their homes and hope that St. Joseph will find them a buyer. …
Lori Bederman said she and her husband contracted to build a house in Bradenton three years ago but worried about unloading their place in Connecticut while the economy was so poor. “My husband was in a panic because we were now obligated to own two homes,” Bederman wrote in an email. “I knew my faith in St. Joseph would guide our way.” Bederman buried a statue of Joseph in the front yard and two days later had a cash offer.
How did this silliness get started? Enter Mother Teresa. No, an earlier Mother Teresa.
As one story goes, an order of Spanish nuns headed by Teresa of Avila in the 1500s prayed to Joseph to help them find land for new convents. For good measure, they also buried their medals of Joseph. Teresa opened 16 convents and soon other people began turning to Joseph when they had land transactions. Over time, the custom of burying medals gave way to burying statues.
After St. Joseph brings a buyer, sellers are supposed to say a novena to him — a series of prayers — or give a simple prayer of thanks. Successful sellers are also encouraged to take St. Joseph to their new home although many can’t find him again even after marking the burial site.
Reporter Susan Taylor Martin, after consulting experts, chirps happily that
Contrary to myth and common practice, the statue doesn’t have to be buried upside down, or facing the real estate sign or planted exactly 8 inches deep.
Good to know.
But here’s the sentence I found most gobsmacking:
This writer twice has enlisted Joseph’s help in selling houses although lowering the price likely was a factor.
Martin is a Senior Correspondent for a generally well-regarded newspaper that has collected ten Pulitzer Prizes. No word on which Catholic plastic baubles she buried, kissed, or smoked in order to land that job.
P.S.: Reading up on Teresa of Ávila’s life, I was struck by the nun’s insistence that Jesus (invisible to all but her) visited her in person… coupled with her fantasies of being penetrated by a seraph.
I saw in his hand a long spear of gold, and at the point there seemed to be a little fire.
Paging Doctor Freud!
He appeared to me to be thrusting it at times into my heart, and to pierce my very entrails; when he drew it out, he seemed to draw them out also, and to leave me all on fire with a great love of God. The pain was so great, that it made me moan; and yet so surpassing was the sweetness of this excessive pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it.
If you think that‘s messed up, I’d like to introduce you to another Bride of the Savior, the 14th-century nun Agnes Blannbekin, who frequently orgasmed as she imagined dining on Jesus’ severed foreskin.
[S]he felt with the greatest sweetness on her tongue a little piece of skin alike the skin in an egg, which she swallowed. After she had swallowed it, she again felt the little skin on her tongue with sweetness as before, and again she swallowed it. And this happened to her about a hundred times. And when she felt it so frequently, she was tempted to touch it with her finger. And when she wanted to do so, that little skin went down her throat on its own. And it was told to her that the foreskin was resurrected with the Lord on the day of resurrection. And so great was the sweetness of tasting that little skin that she felt in all [her] limbs and parts of the limbs a sweet transformation.
Loving Jesus has rarely felt so good.
(Image via Shutterstock)