Fully Alive

By Sister Rebecca
(originally published in Thoughts from New Skete, Summer 1992)

 

The cover of the Gospel book at New Skete’s Church portrays the familiar icon of Christ enthroned in glory.  The icon is based on Ezekiel's visions and St. John's Revelation: "I saw a throne before me in heaven, and the one who sat there shone like a diamond and a ruby... From the throne there came flashes of lightning ... and around it were four living creatures... The first was like a lion, the second like a bull, the third had a human face, and the fourth was like a flying eagle." (Rev. 4)

Since the time of St. Irenaeus, these four winged beings have symbolized the four evangelists. This theme became widespread in early Christian art both in East and West. Today, however, the winged animals symbolizing the evangelists seem bizarre. What did this configuration mean for early Christians, and what can it mean for us today?

 

In early Babylonian culture, these winged figures were the four signs of the zodiac. They symbolized the four seasons of the year and the four quarters of the skies: the bull or ox of spring and the eastern quarter; the lion of summer and the southern quarter; the eagle or scorpion of autumn and the western quarter; the water carrier of winter and the northern quarter.

 

The Babylonians perceived that life on earth was ruled by the cycle of day and night, the lunar cycle of the months, and the solar cycle of the year. Observing that the solar year governed the annual birth and death of terrestrial vegetation, they concluded that earthly changes paralleled and were caused by changes occurring in the heavens: as things are in the heavens, so are they on earth. They held that the fate of our entire life was determined by the position of the stars at the moment we were born. These signs not only shaped our character, destiny, and actions, but they ruled every human thought, yearning, and realization. In short, people were passive before fate. Events were entirely predictable.

 

Hellenic literature and art also abound with references to this cyclic world view. For example, we can find representations of the sun-god engraved as a disc supported by wings, or a sun-dial engraved with the twelve signs of zodiac and their corresponding deities.

 

This cyclic world view was so common that even the Palestinian Jews portrayed it in their synagogues.  But the Hebrew prophets and Jesus, his apostles, and his followers used this ancient world view to express a new vision of life. The cycles of day and night, the seasons, and the year were vehicles, metaphors of something deeper: there is another dimension of time that gives a radically new meaning and direction to our lives.

 

One Sabbath, Jesus stood up in the synagogue, found the passage from the prophet Isaiah, and read aloud: "The spirit of the Lord has been given to me . .. He has sent me to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives and to the blind new sight; to set the downtrodden free, to proclaim the Lord's year of favor." (Is. 61: 1-2)  Sitting down, he said: "This text has come true today even as you listen." (Lk. 4:21)

 

The Lord's year of grace or favor is the proclaiming of the good news, the message that God is the creator of all things, a loving Father, who makes the sunshine and rain fall on all—good and bad alike. God is a God of goodness. Jesus gives evidence of this by the way he lives and teaches. The Gospel is a surprising breaking-free from the way things have been, of the year-god's dominion, of the zodiac and natural fate. Jesus asks the man paralyzed for thirty-eight years, who waited for the waters to be stirred up by some heavenly power, if he wants to be healed. The man answers that there is no one to lower him into the waters. Jesus simply tells him: "Stand up! Pick up your mat and walk!" (Jn. 5:8) The man had the courage to respond. He got up and walked. Now the point of the story is not that Jesus has some extraordinary powers, making him a magician of sorts. Jesus was not freeing this person from bondage to one superstition only to make him subservient to another. The man is shown that he can, himself, get up and walk. The good news is that we have the choice to respond to what life presents us, that a new life is here now— not out there with the powers of heaven, nor simply after death.

 

This new vision is that we are the heirs and stewards of creation, not its victims or slaves. We are not meant to be passive receptors of life but co-creators. With this vision comes the realization that we must take responsibility for life by drawing on all the potential within ourselves and without. It is up to us to make the most of life. This world of ours, the only one we have so far as we know, is in our hands. In our times, though, it seems there is a fatalistic mindset similar to, if not the same as, that of the ancients: ascribing our failures and limitations to forces beyond our control. In many ways we are more sophisticated today, but are we freer? Do we blame our problems, personal or social, on others—on our parents, our genetic make-up, our schooling or whatever? Do we lock ourselves up in a prison of our own making by thinking of ourselves always as victims? Isn't this just another form of enslavement?

 

To succumb to this destroys life both for ourselves and for others. Jesus did not promise a life without difficulties, without sickness or death, but he did promise that if we acquire his mindset, if we share in his vision, we will be able to meet life's situations reasonably, responsibly, and free of unruly and destructive emotions—irrational fears, jealousy, hatred, despair—which are the only real darkness.

 

When Jesus healed the blind man—as related in St. John's Gospel—the point is that this man's eyes were opened to a new vision of life; and Jesus somehow brought him to see for himself. The story ends with a gesture: the man bows down and worships Jesus. Now, the word "worship" means "to serve." The man who came to see is stating by this gesture that he will now place himself in the service of this vision incarnate in Christ. Jesus is not interested in having people bow down and sing hymns to him as though he could somehow benefit personally from this homage.  He wants the blind man to share in his vision because this new spirit of understanding is the foundation of life more abundant.

 

Christian artists, by depicting Christ at the center of the icon, in place of the sun-god or the year-god, are saying that Christ has now become the central, most significant, meaning and power in our lives and in historical events. He attained this in his own life first, and he is indicating to us the way to follow.  Obviously, this event, this taking our lives into our own hands (as opposed to passively letting life happen to us or having no direction in life) is a great responsibility. It requires continual looking, growing in understanding, and working on ourselves—with self-control, being alert, awake, and ready to put oneself at the service of others, to allow a renewal of life. But at the same time, Christ says that this burden is, indeed, light.

 

Though we are immersed in this great universe, Christ doesn't say: "No, this doesn't really exist" or "It's of no real value." That would not be good news at all, but bad news. He is saying: "Who is in charge of it?" or "Is it in charge of you?" "Can we work with it, direct it towards greater things?" or "Are we going to abuse it by directing it towards worse things or be abused by it?" We are talking about creation and its energy. Are we simply the pawns of cosmic powers? Are we playthings for them? Or can we make use of them to attain something better? Christ is saying that we are truly free, that the choice is within each of us to live now, and that it is within our power to live fully. It is not just for the next life. Eternity begins now. The kingdom is present within ourselves and in the community of those who live together in the light of this good news.

 

For us now, the four winged beings proclaim a new message and a challenge: Christ triumphed over the events of his own life, and the love that he preached is the way to deeper, unending life. All the power and energy of the universe are ready to serve this love. The creatures symbolize this as they back up the Christ-figure, and as four evangelists they invite us to live the fullness of this message. Here is the new reality now, they say—will you see and hear it?  Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John are carrying the kingdom, word, and peace of Christ to the farthest extremes of the earth.

 

The Gospel book cover, then, proclaims the good news. It speaks to us as powerfully as the words within: "Get up and walk." We ignore and resist this at our own peril. It means being creative, being energetic.  A mature individual finds out and does what has to be done. The immature one is always procrastinating, hesitating, dilly-dallying.  Free people look at what is there and strive to make life balanced, fulfilled, less empty. It means realizing that I am awake for another day. I will make it better. There is something to life. Life is here, now—and I can live it. This is what gives meaning to all the rest: the prophets, the services, good works, change of heart.

 

So when we see the cover of the Gospel book, it should convey the same good news as the written word. The kingdom of God is now in our midst.  The stupendous, awesome message of the Christ enthroned is not that he is "out there in the heavens" to be adored, and that for his sake this world is to be denied, endured, covered up; or that we should dream of living above it all somehow, hoping for a better life later on. Our destiny personally and globally is in our hands now, by the grace of God, to be lived fully beginning now, for Christ is the light, the energy, that makes it possible. We can make this earth, starting where we are in our own lives, a better and truly blessed place. This is the glory of God: All of us fully alive!