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There is a beautiful thought associated with the words "and dwelt among us" from the prologue to Saint John's Gospel. Since it appears that there is nothing completely random or coincidental along the spiritual path, it is likely that this thought may have been sewn into the fabric of language at the Creation.
In the Old Testament, the Person of God is often talked of as the "Presence"-in Hebrew, the Shekhinah. Certainly, this is an important theme in Orthodox worship in later times, but for the Jews the very idea of "Presence" encapsulated the reality of God. When in the desert after the exodus from slavery in Egypt, the people lived in tents, and God had His own tent, the Tabernacle. When the people moved, they packed up their tents, and they packed up God's tent too. At the next site, they set up the tents, God's among them. During the move, the Presence moved with them, as a cloud or as a fiery pillar, and then came to rest in the Tabernacle where the people were to come to a halt. So it was that God dwelt among His people: He "tented" with them. The word in Hebrew for "presence" is shekhinah. The root of this word is S-K-N (this is just the way Hebrew words are put together); in the New Testament, the word for "dwelt among us" also has its root in the letters S-K-N, but this time in Greek: eskinosen. This literally means He "tented," since the Greek word for tent is skini. Coincidence? I think not. Jesus "tented" with His people: not in a tent made of the skins of dead animals, but in the human body. The God who created and creates the universe, who existed before all time-the omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent-dwelt among us, and experienced life just as we experience life. The way in which this was possible is called by the theologians kenosis-"emptying." Without ceasing to be God, Jesus lived among mankind. He knew our existence, not by observing us (as we might observe animals at the zoo), but by becoming one of us, showing His love for us by taking the ultimate risk-the risk of being rejected. Teaching or doctrine in the Orthodox Church describes the experience of the saints and is not merely the extension of human logic. As such, dogma has far less to do with being right or wrong, and far more to do with describing God's life in His Church. The teachings of the Church surrounding the Nativity of Christ are an example of this. The faith of the Church does not form an abstract, logical pattern, but rather a living testimony to an experience of God. The "enhumanment" of God was not an arbitrary act of a Divinity curious about His creation. Rather, it has as its context nothing less than pure love. Love is the matrix, the framework, of this new and revolutionary development of the relationship between God and His people. God became what we are, so that we might become like Him. In an act of pure love and generosity, God reaches towards us in unprecedented humility and allows us to enter into a profoundly significant relationship with Him. At the heart of the Church's experience of God stands Mary, the Theotokos. She stands, almost completely silent, as a guarantee of the Mystery of "enhumanment." Although completely human, she bore "God the Word," and cooperated with God so completely that the Mystery was able to happen. She, like each one of us, had the power to keep God out of her life, a power which God respects, since love can only emerge from a freedom of choice. But she did not shut God out. She said "yes" to God . . . and the miracle happened. In the Orthodox Church, the mysterious and wonderful relationship between God and His creation is experienced. One important aspect of this relationship is stressed in our use of icons, where physical reality (in this case wood and paint) is used by God to project the life of the Kingdom into our own dimension. There is a recurrent theme in humanity's religious and spiritual awareness that God is somehow separate and apart from the material world. In Plato's thought, for example, God was pure spirit, and would be somehow contaminated if His contact with material reality were too close. In turn, this thinking leads to a suspicion of the concrete reality around us, and encourages us to consider our spiritual awareness a thing of the mind, and our contact with God a matter of mental effort. One of the most important statements of Orthodox theology is that far from shrinking from His creation, God entered our reality at a level which gave philosophers cause to wonder. "The Word became flesh, and dwelt among us." Far from shunning material reality in general (and the human body in particular), God chose to meet us in our own environment, and to experience life as we experience life. The consequence of this divine act is that we are invited to find salvation with and through the human body. We believe in the Resurrection of the body, not just in the immortality of the soul. We are encouraged to pray with and through our bodies: when we make the sign of the Cross, our hands are praying; when we make a prostration, our whole body prays. When we receive Holy Communion, our bodies experience the Kingdom of Heaven. Fr. Meletios Webber is the author of Steps of Transformation: An Orthodox Christian Priest Explores the Twelve Steps (Conciliar Press, 2002.) Fr. Webber's latest book, Bread & Water, Wine & Oil: An Orthodox Christian Experience of God, will be published this Summer by Conciliar Press. This article is adapted from "And the Word Became Flesh, and Dwelt among Us," originally published in AGAIN Magazine Vol. 26 No. 4, Winter 2004. Please visit www.conciliarpress.com for more information. |