“The Day of Resurrection…!”

“Let us purify our senses and we shall see Christ shining in the unapproachable light of his Resurrection. We shall clearly hear him say, ‘Rejoice!’ as we sing the song of victory.” (Paschal Matins) A contemporary stained glass window depicts St. Thomas, who probes the wounds of the risen Christ. (St. Luke’s Church, Forest Hills; photo by S. Morris)

The gospel accounts in which Christ greets the Myrrhbearing Women at the tomb or the apostles in the Upper Room after his Resurrection tell us that his first word was, “Rejoice!” (Alas, too often modern English translations render this as “Greetings!”) This is also the first word Gabriel utters when he greets the Virgin Mary at the Annunciation: “Rejoice!” (We are more familiar with the Latin translation, “Ave!” which in English becomes, “Hail!”) The gospel, the “good news,” begins and ends with the same word and is summed up in this one word: Rejoice!

In the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, when the priest or deacon finish giving Holy Communion to the congregation, one of the prayers they say as they return to the altar is:

“O Christ our God, who art thyself the fulfillment of the Law and the prophets, who didst fulfill all the dispensation of the Father: fill our hearts with joy and gladness always, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.”

In this short prayer, we greet Christ as the fulfillment of the law and the prophets, i.e. the entire Old Testament. He is what everyone in the Old Testament was expecting, waiting for, hoping for. As the fulfillment of all that had come before, he fulfilled the dispensation, i.e. the divine plan for salvation (Eph. 1:9-10; 3:9-11; 1 Tim. 1:3-4) which the Father had in mind since eternity. Receiving the gift of Holy Communion, we participate in this fulfillment. Our participation in Christ is the consummation of everything he did. In a real way, everything God did in the Old Testament and in the life-death-resurrection of Christ was in order to share Holy Communion with us. Having received Holy Communion, we are caught up in the divine joy and gladness–the divine love–for us, our neighbors, the entire world.

God is made flesh. Death is destroyed. What else can we do but rejoice?

“Today Hell Cries Out Groaning….”

This 8th-century panel painting, now at the Monastery of Saint Catherine, Mount Sinai, Egypt, is the oldest known painted depiction of the dead Christ on the cross. We see Gestas, the unrepentant thief, on the left; Dismas, the Good Thief, was probably on the right (which is now missing; we can see the first letter of his name in the space beside Christ). At the foot of the Cross, there are 3 soldiers gambling for Christ’s seamless robe. On the Cross, Christ is wearing a tunic, known as a “stola,” a garment worn by those who had permission to speak to the emperor. Christ has the boldness to speak to God, his Father, on our behalf because of His Incarnation, Death, and Resurrection and his battle with Death on the Cross.

Today, hell cries out groaning: “I should not have accepted the Man born of Mary. He came and destroyed my power. He has shattered the gates of brass. As God, He raised the dead that I had held captive.” Glory to thy Cross and Resurrection, O Lord.

Today, hell cries out groaning: “My dominion has been shattered. I received a dead man as one of the dead, but against Him I could not prevail. From eternity I had ruled the dead, but behold, He raises all. Because of Him do I perish.” Glory to thy Cross and Resurrection, O Lord.

In these hymns from Holy Saturday, we hear Hell cry out in agony as Christ enters and destroys it from the inside out. Truth exposes the Liar. Light shines in the Darkness. Life confronts Death. The gates of Hell are torn down and the chains broken. Only those who want to remain in Hell are still there.

Christ fought Death and the Devil, the Liar, on their own turf. In the ancient world and the figurative language of the Bible, three places belonged to the Death and the demons: deep water, the desert, and the air. Christ went down into the deep water at His baptism and then went out into the desert for forty days. In both places he confronted the enemies of God. But how did He fight them in the air?

Early Christians thought Christ had to die on the Cross because crucifixion was the only way to die in the air. Raised on the Cross, Christ was able to fight the powers of Darkness in their own territory and thus enter Hell. St. Athanasius of Alexandria wrote: “… if the Lord, by His death, broke apart the wall of partition divinding people (Ephesians 2:14) and called all the nations to Him, how could that happen except on the Cross? For it is only on the cross that a man dies with his hands spread out. Whence it was fitting for the Lord to spread out His hands, that with the one He might draw the ancient people, and with the other those from the Gentiles, and unite both in Himself. Furthermore, if the devil, the enemy of our race, having fallen from heaven, wanders about in the air (Ephesians 2:2) … well, by what other kind of death could this have come to pass, than by one which took place in the air, I mean the cross? Being lifted up on the Cross, He cleared the air of the malignity both of the devil and of demons of all kinds, as He says: I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven; and made a new opening of the way up into heaven as He says once more….”

Having slain Christ on the Cross, Death and Hell thought they had won their battle. But once Christ had entered Hell, they discovered their mistake and realized that what they had thought was their ultimate victory was instead their ultimate defeat.

Want to read more about this? Read The Victory of the Cross by James R. Payton, Jr. or On the Incarnation by St. Athanasius of Alexandria.

“She Loosed Her Hair While Judas Bound Himself With Wrath”

This stained glass window depicts the sinful woman anointing Jesus’ feet in Simon’s house. The woman’s hair is long and hangs loose, an artistic way of indicating that she was thought to be especially self-indulgent and hedonistic. The window was made in Germany in 1899.

The sinful woman who anoints the feet of Jesus is commemorated by many churches during Holy Week. She anoints Jesus’ feet with very expensive perfume, wipes them with her hair, but is criticized and rebuked for “wasting” the perfume rather than spending the many on assisting the poor. Christ defends her, pointing out that the poor will always be available to be assisted but that he will not always be so available. He promises that the woman and what she did will be remembered wherever the Gospel is preached.

In some versions of the Gospel story, everyone present criticizes the woman. In other versions, Judas is the loudest or only critic. In the liturgical hymnography of Holy Week, we sing that “she loosed her hair while Judas bound himself with wrath,” i.e. that although her hair was loose–an indication of wild self-indulgence and lack of self control–it was Judas who was the one who was the one who lacked any self-control. He was tied in knots by his wrath and jealousy while she found freedom in untying her hair to wipe the feet of Christ. Appearances can deceive. In this episode, a sinful woman kisses Christ’s feet as the disciple prepares to give a kiss of betrayal. His behavior is filled with the stench of wickedness while the stench of her past is transformed by repentance.

Kurt Vonnegut once suggested that Jesus’ response might better be translated as: “Judas, don’t worry about it. There will still be plenty of poor people left long after I’m gone.” Jesus is being sarcastic, pointing out the hypocrisy of Judas and the critics of the woman who are really more interested in the money than the poor. One blog suggests that Jesus “is reminding Judas about Deuteronomy 15 and challenging his own lack of generosity. Isn’t it ironic how we can be full of zeal for compassion to the poor in the abstract, and yet be so ungenerous to those specific individuals in need that God has placed before us?”

Medieval Greek and Syrian Christian poets explore this woman’s inner emotions and thoughts in liturgical hymns for Holy Week. She has heard the words of Christ, which fill the air with sweetness just as drops of perfume fill a room with fragrance. She longs for salvation, for contact with Christ in a complex tangle of love and remorse for her past deeds. She remembers the prostitute Rahab in the Old Testament because she showed “hospitality” to the Jewish spies preparing to attack Jericho; “hospitality” is a euphemism for both her sexual services to the spies and her political betrayal of her home town that enable the Jewish attackers led by Joshua to overcome the town’s defenses. The woman in the New Testament hopes that her demonstration of love for Christ will be accepted as Rahab’s hospitality was.

But the poets contrast their own unrepentant sinfulness with the repentant but anonymous woman. They do not repent even though they know the whole Gospel story, which was more than what the woman knew. The unrepentant poets stands in for the congregation who hear the poetry sung in church: they know the Gospel story as well and do not repent either. This self-accusation of both poet and congregation is the first step toward repentance and righteousness. Because the woman was forgiven, the poet and congregation can hope for forgiveness as well–especially during the celebration of the Holy Week services.

A contemporary Coptic icon of the sinful woman anointing Jesus’ feet at Simon’s house shows the now-empty jar of expensive perfume discarded as she wipes Jesus’ feet with her hair.

Want to know more about Eastern Christian thought about the sinful woman who anoints Jesus’ feet and wipes them with her hair? See a contemporary Coptic Christian blog here. You can read Scenting Salvation: Ancient Christianity and the Olfactory Imagination, a fascinating account of early Christian attitudes toward scents and fragrance by Susan Ashbrook Harvey. You can also read more about the woman who anointed Christ in Liturgical Subjects: Christian Ritual, Biblical Narrative, and the Formation of the Self in Byzantium by Derek Krueger.