In responding to the objection that Mary had other children besides Jesus, we find a surprising ally in the Protestant Revolutionaries (they weren't reformers, they were revolutionaries), who unanimously held to the belief in Mary’s perpetual virginity. While this might come as a surprise to some modern readers, a thorough examination of Scripture, Tradition, and the writings of the Revolutionaries shows a strong and consistent defense of this doctrine.

Before delving into the Revolutionaries’ statements, let’s first lay the groundwork by exploring why both Scripture and Tradition affirm that Mary remained a virgin throughout her life.

Scriptural Evidence:

The most common objection to the perpetual virginity of Mary comes from passages like Matthew 13:55-56 and Mark 6:3, where the “brothers” of Jesus—James, Joses, Simon, and Judas—are mentioned. However, the term “brother” (Greek: adelphos) doesn’t strictly mean a biological sibling. In biblical usage, it can also refer to extended relatives or close kin. For instance, Abraham refers to Lot, his nephew, as his “brother” (Genesis 14:14).

In Mark 6:3, Jesus is called the “brother” of James and Joses. However, in Mark 15:40, we learn that these James and Joses are actually the sons of another Mary, not the Virgin Mary. This indicates that the “brothers” mentioned in Mark 6:3 are more likely Jesus’ close relatives, such as cousins, not biological siblings. This understanding aligns with the broader cultural use of familial terms in Scripture.

Additionally, in John 19:26-27, Jesus entrusts His mother to the Apostle John at the crucifixion. If Mary had other biological children, it would have been expected that one of them, not John, would care for her. This act strongly suggests that Jesus was her only child.

Testimony from Early Church Fathers:

The Church Fathers were unanimous in their defense of Mary’s perpetual virginity (there was a small minority of early Christians who questionied or denied it). For example, St. Jerome, in his work Against Helvidius, argued extensively against the claim that Mary had other children, explaining that terms like “brothers” were used for close relatives, not necessarily siblings.

St. Athanasius, St. Augustine, and other prominent Fathers also affirmed Mary’s perpetual virginity. Augustine, in particular, emphasized Mary’s unique role in salvation history and saw her virginity as a sign of her total devotion to God.

Protestant Revolutionaries’ Views:

The Protestant Revolutionaries were unanimous in their belief in Mary’s perpetual virginity. Here is just a sample of their statements on the matter:

Martin Luther:

"[S]he brought forth without sin, without shame, without pain and without injury, . . ." (Sermon for Christmas Eve; Luke 2:1-14, tr. Geo H. Trabert, 24 Dec. 1521; in Sermons of Martin Luther, The Church Postils, v. 1-5: Minneapolis by Lutherans of All Lands, 1904-1906; Vol. 6-8: Minneapolis: The Luther Press, 1908-1909)

Hellow dear fellows and sheilas of the Locals community. Yesterday I said I'd post in serial form this little story I've been working on called Barry Baxter and the Magical Pygmy Possums. After this installment I should only be releasing them once a week or once every two weeks. 

Summary

Prologue 

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Chapter 1

So this one hot day in January, me and my mate Z were driving to Kapow! Windows down, Farmer’s Union Iced Coffees in hand; loving life. We were on our way to play Mindcraft. And no, I don’t mean Minecraft. I mean Mindcraft. Think D&D for intelligent people.

So anyway, we walk in through the shop and the bell rings, the bell on the door, you know? And I see this girl there that I hadn’t seen before, and she’s wearing these shoes that are fluffy like kittens. And I think to myself, “man, those shoes look like kittens.” No sooner did I think this than her shoes actually turned into kittens. Like real kittens. I need you to understand this. I don’t mean her shoes changed into different shoes—shoes that looked like kittens or shoes that had pictures of kittens on them. I mean her shoes were gone, and in their place, a pair of gray kittens.

I watched the kittens screech in agony right before they died. The girl's feet were in the kittens. Like, in the kittens. Through their backs and I guess into their innards. I can only assume they materialized out of nothing, and then lived long enough to be crushed by that girl. Freaked everyone out, obviously. Gus and the rest of the guys at the store—including Z—just assumed the girl brought the cats in with her and that they didn’t notice until, according to them, she just jumped on them. Place went crazy. People were screaming, chairs were pushed back, a table flipped over, cards and dice and game pieces scattered all over the floor. Kapow! closed for the day. There was an investigation. I’m not sure whatever happened to that girl—probably in some kind of home. No one believed her, of course. Poor thing.

Poor ol’ Z, being an animal lover, took a while to recover. Wasn’t in the mood to play Mindcraft. Said he wanted to go home and play some Zelda.

“No worries,” I said. We hit up Maccas on the way home. Sustenance.

So we get back to Z’s house, and I’m watching him play the new Zelda. But I wasn’t really watching, if you know what I mean. My eyes were pointed at the screen, but I was all up in my head. Trying to understand what had happened. Wondering if it really was me who made those cats appear. So I look down at my shoes. They were red. I imagined them yellow. Boom— they turned yellow. Pretty freaky, hey? So then I start wondering if it’s just shoes or if I can make other stuff happen. I look across the room at this replica of Sting Z has from The Lord of the Rings. I imagined it with a scabbard. Nothing happened. I imagined it with a scabbard again, this time concentrating really hard. Still nothing. Weird, I thought.

Then I looked down at my watch and imagined it with a different strap. I had to concentrate. Boom! It turned from one of those annoying bloody metal ones that pinch your arm hair into a black leather one.

I turned to Z, wondering how to tell him.

“Z,” I said, “you know that thing that happened at the shop?”

“Shit,” he said, “don’t bloody remind me.”

“Well,” I said, “umm... I have some news about that.”

He’s like, “yeah?”

“Well,” I said, “that lady didn’t jump on those cats. You see... what happened was... I turned her shoes into cats. With my mind.”

Z just laughed awkwardly. Then, when I didn’t laugh with him, he looked at me and stopped laughing.

He was like, “you’re not serious.”

And I looked at him and said, “Z, my friend, I’m as serious as a heart attack. I turned her shoes into kittens. On accident, obviously.”

He put down the controller and asked me why I’d joke about that kinda thing, saying I knew he loved cats and that it wasn’t funny.

I took a sip of my Iced Coffee, cracked my knuckles, and then asked him if he believed in evolution. Weird question, right? I was trying to throw him off. Shake him out of his closed-minded ways of thinking.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he said.

I asked him again, eyes wider and head slightly tilted for effect, “do... you... believe... in evolution? Survival of the fittest? That all life forms have evolved from a single-celled organism.”

He just looked at me and asked what the hell all this had to do with exploding kittens. Hah! Literally just made that connection.

Anyway, I told him to just answer the question. He said he does.

“Okay,” I said. “Now, what if we could rewind the film of evolution and play it again? Isn’t it possible that instead of the life forms we now see, a whole different set of creatures could have evolved?”

He agreed, so I said, “men like us could have had wings.”

Z began screwing up his face like he was about to object, but I didn’t have time for that, so I interrupted him.

“I’m just saying it’s possible, no?”

He relented. “Sure, it’s possible.”

“What about our five senses?” I asked him. “Isn’t it possible that we could have evolved with fewer? Worms, for example, can’t see. Don’t have eyes.”

Z started to object, mentioning something about light receptors.

“Yeah, that’s great mate,” I said. “But they can’t bloody see the way we can. Light receptors aren’t sight as we know it. That’s all I’m saying.”

Z gave me a skeptical look.

“Alright, then. How would you explain what a rainbow looks like to a worm? Go on, try it.”

Z just looked at me and said he wasn’t going to try it.

“But you get my point,” I said. “Our five senses engage five realms—as it were—of reality. Eyes see, ears hear, noses smell, tongues...”

“Yeah, I get it, I get it. What’s your point though?”

Not as quick on his feet as me, ol’ Z.

“My point is that if certain life forms have evolved with fewer senses than we have, and if it’s possible that we could have evolved with fewer too, maybe... just maybe it’s possible we could have evolved with more. Think about that. How crazy is the concept of sight to a worm?”

“Yeah,” said Z, still skeptical, “but a worm can’t understand us. Anything we try to say to it would be incomprehensible.”

“Fine,” I said. “A blind man, then. Blind from birth. He can understand me, right?”

“Sure,” Z said, “all things being equal.”

“All things being bloody equal,” I mocked. “Are you trying to derail the conversation at all costs?”

“Fine,” he said. “Yes, he can understand you.”

“Thank you. Now, imagine trying to make him comprehend what the color purple is like. How do you describe a mountain or a sunset, or any of that? Go on, try it.”

Z said he wasn’t going to try it.

“But you get my point,” I said. “Just like a man blind from birth couldn’t comprehend colors, we—with our five senses—wouldn’t be able to comprehend a sixth realm, completely beyond our realm of sensation. You see?”

Z, fed up with the conversation, picked up his controller and began playing Zelda again. Without looking at me, he asked, “so how are you so sure a sixth realm exists? Isn’t this just an argument from silence?”

“Shall I show you how I know?” I asked.

“Sure,” Z said, his eyes still on the screen. “Why don’t you show me.”

And that’s when I turned his television into a gigantic potato chip. I didn’t imagine it bolted to the wall, I guess, so it dropped from where the TV was and hit the floor.

Z—and I swear I’m not making this up—dropped his controller to the floor and looked at me with his jaw hanging open. I walked over to the potato chip, which had broken a bit from hitting the floor.

“You see?” I said, taking a bite out of it. It tasted good too.

Z stood up, speechless. Later, he said it felt like a hundred sentences were trying to come out of his mouth all at once.

“It’s alright,” I said. “You’re looking at me like a worm looks at a man. Not that a worm has eyes—we’ve been through that. The point is... the point is,” I said, “you’re afraid, but you don’t need to be, okay? That realm of reality no one has accessed—until now? I’ve accessed it. Just like sight and touch let me manipulate Lego or Link on the screen over there, this new realm lets me manipulate reality.”

My name is Barry Baxter.

I’m not your average citizen. People have mistaken me for an overweight, comic book-obsessed nerd who bludges off the government. And, okay, sure, they’d be right about that.

But ... but … what you wouldn’t guess from looking at me is that I have a very particular set of skills. And no, not in the Liam Neeson sort of way—though I’d kick his arse any day of the week. No, my skills lie less in my physical strength, of which I have almost none—wouldn’t want it anyway—and more in my cool-as-shit imagination.

You see, I can do stuff with my mind. Not just think about things happening—actually make them happen. Things outside of my mind, I mean; just by imagining it. Wild, right? Sounds like something you’d hear from a bloke trying to sell dodgy crystals at a market stall. But trust me, it’s real. This is the first time I’m putting pen to paper about all that has transpired. About the imaginings, about the pygmy possums, about Kevin. Or, as we now refer to him, “that bastard, Kevin.”

Let’s see … Where to begin? Last year, on a stinking hot day in December, my cousin Sarah and I were sitting outside a funeral parlor. Not for fun. We don’t sit outside of funeral parlors for fun. Our uncle had just died, you see? Anyway, we were talking and stuff and I was just getting up to leave when this little pygmy possum ran up to me and crawled onto my lap. Just like that. Weird, right? Didn’t coax it or anything. It wasn’t like I had a sandwich on me or something—bloody love sandwiches—it just came right at me, like it’d been waiting for me all day.

Sarah was all like, “wow, how weird,” and I was like, “what’s weird about it? Animals are super into me.” And she was like, “animals are super into you?” Like it was a dumb thing to say, you know? But I was all like, “that’s right, animals are super into me.”