Part I: The Mystery of the
Annunciation on the Gates of Paradise
No visitor to a Byzantine-rite
church can fail to notice the prominent position of the icon of the feast of
the Annunciation on the Royal Doors, that is, the central aperture between the
nave and the Holy of Holies. The central doors, complete with the red-colored
curtain that hangs behind them, are also often referred to as "the Doors
of Paradise." This name refers to the Eastern Christian imagery that
identifies the Holy of Holies with the original Paradise of Eden.
In order for us to understand the
nearly invariable presence of this icon in this particular place in the
Byzantine temple, we have to look at what the icon shows to us. In the icon, we
see the Most Holy Mother of God seated on a chair to the right side of the
icon's field. Often the chair (a rather grand thing, like a throne) is
positioned under a canopy from which the typical red cloth (the iliton) is
suspended, signaling that the mystery shown in the icon occurred indoors. The
Most Holy Mother of God is shown holding a skein of red or violet yarn, while
the spindle dangles underneath. In some versions of the icon, the Virgin is
pictured dropping the skein, which is shown in midair on its way to the floor,
signaling her fright at the sudden appearance and mysterious message of the
angel. On the left side of the icon's field, to the right of the Most Holy
Mother of God, the Archangel Gabriel can be seen striding as if from the
spiritual into the material world. The angel's wings are extended, showing that
he has just then arrived. In the meantime, a tiny dove, representing the Holy
Spirit, can be seen descending a ray of light towards the Virgin's right ear.
So, why should this depiction of
the mystery of the Annunciation be found, almost invariably, on the Royal
Doors, the Doors of Paradise, in the typical Byzantine temple? The most obvious
answer to this question can be found in the fact that this mystery is the
beginning of the last chapter in the story of salvation. It is with this
mystery that the Son and Word of God becomes incarnate. This mystery,
therefore, is the gateway to the full revelation of the Mystery of Christ.
As most of us are aware, Our Most
Holy Lady was brought up in the Jerusalem Temple. The Temple had according to
this ancient tradition what amounts to an institutionalized girls' school,
where the daughters of priests and some others were dedicated to the service of
the Temple and were educated to be the future wives of the priests of the Lord.
It was from the Temple that the Most Holy Mother of God was betrothed to Saint
Joseph. According to the tradition, during her betrothal, Our Most Holy Lady
was still working for the Temple. She had been assigned to participate in the
weaving project that would replace the apparently worn out veil of the Temple.
We learn about the veil of the
Temple in the Book of Exodus, where it is described as being woven from four
different colors of yarn: blue, purple, scarlet, and white linen. The four
colors represent the visible creation divided into its four elements. Thus the
Holy of Holies, the eternal Presence of God, is screened and concealed by
Creation, and yet, in a sense, is also revealed by it. Similarly, when the High
Priest, who represents the Lord, ministers outside the Holy of Holies, he puts
on the ephod, a vestment woven from the same four kinds of colored yarn.
Therefore, in a type of Incarnation, the representative of the immaterial Lord,
when he goes forth to minister, puts on material creation and thus becomes
visible.
An invariable feature of the
Annunciation icon is the presence of a skein of yarn in the hand of the Most
Holy Mother of God as the Archangel Gabriel arrives, while the spindle dangles
underneath. It is important to note at this point that the skein is only of
scarlet color. This is apparently the Mother of God's assigned work for the
completion of the new veil. We shall see why this is especially meaningful.
At the time of the crucifixion and
death of the Messiah, the veil of the Temple is torn in two from top to bottom,
signifying the promise of direct revelation of God's Presence without any
created mediation. The successor of this veil in the New Covenant is woven only
of red color, because it represents the flesh of Christ, stained with the
tincture of His blood. This flesh, which is now the sole mediator between God
and human beings was born of the Holy Virgin, conceived in her womb at the time
of the Annunciation. It is a veil that no longer divides but rather joins,
because our participation in it is the only way to the Father. The Letter to
the Hebrews, in fact, tells us about this veil. "Therefore, brethren,
since we have confidence to enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus, by the
new and living way which He opened for us through the curtain, that is, through
His flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw
near with a true heart in full assurance of faith."
In this context, it is deeply
meaningful to focus upon the name of this mystery and its icon in the Greek
language. The mystery of the Annunciation in Greek is
known as evangelismos (evangelization, preaching of the Good
News). The Most Holy Mother of God is the first to hear the Gospel of Christ as
it is preached to her by the angelic visitor. We will see in the second
part that the Gospel preached to the Theotokos is important, but her response
to it is equally important.
It is sufficient for now, for our
purposes, to meditate on the fact that the mystery of the Annunciation, the evangelization of the Most Holy Mother of God, opens a
way into the Holy of Holies, that is, into the Presence of God Himself. This
new aperture is not a void or a hole as apertures in this world are. This new
aperture into the Divine Presence is a Person, the Divine Logos conceived in
the womb of our Most Holy Lady. The Logos exalts the Most Holy Mother of God to
become a new temple, a second Heaven. In a subsidiary way, various places
associated with the Presence of the Logos and His Most Holy Mother also take on
a sacral character. The Church's hymnography tells us that the cave of
Bethlehem became a Heaven and the icon of the Nativity shows us that that same
cave becomes the Temple as well, since it invariably shows the manger of the
Son of God between and overshadowed by the "living creatures" hayyot.
This whole meditation on the
significance of the Annunciation at the center of the Gates of Paradise is
sufficient to leave us with some important questions. Especially during this
time of Great Lent, I think that these questions should perplex and trouble us
to some degree. After all, the truth of the mysteries of Christ is one thing,
but that truth has to be translated into my individual life and circumstances
by means of the grace that the Liturgy continually extols and calls "great
mercy." The Liturgy tells us again and again that we are offered
"great mercy." But how do we respond to the offer. The mystery of the
Annunciation has opened a way to the Presence of God. How have we as
individuals made use of that way? Just because there is a way does not mean
that it will be used. Packages have been known to remain at the front door of
my brother's house for months, because he and his wife NEVER use that door.
They always enter the house through the garage. The way exists, but it is
unused. Furthermore, we can easily reflect that, when an entryway is used, it
is always used personally and intentionally. There is no way to employ the
entrance to your home abstractly. Therefore, how is my use of this entrance,
the entry into the Holy of Holies through the mediation of the Most Holy Mother
of God, personal and intentional? How can I deepen the relationship that is
implied with that intentionality? Lastly, am I even really disposed to enter by
this way? In what ways can I change that disposition?
Part
II: The Mystery of the Annunciation and Repentance
We ended the last session with the
realization that the Mystery of the Annunciation opens a way into the Divine
Presence, the Holy of Holies, and we began to explore the questions of how that
entrance can be employed in our own individual lives. Perhaps by this time we
have come to the conclusion that the way to enter by this aperture is
repentance.
To begin from the question
"what does the Mystery of the Annunciation have to do with
repentance?" would immediately lead us to a spiritual and intellectual
cul-de-sac. The Mystery in itself has nothing to do
with repentance, because repentance is our response to it. As we have seen, an
aperture has been opened to us, but we must decide to enter into it. The
basic meaning of the term metanoia is "a change of mind
or heart." In the Matins service sung in the Byzantine Rite on every
weekday during Great Lent, at the end of the service, we sing a short hymn that
is full of mystical fascination. As the hymn begins, we think that it surely
must be addressed to Christ, for we sing, "Standing in the Temple of your
glory is like standing in Heaven itself." Only in the second part of the
tropar do we learn the identity of the one, who is addressed. We continue,
"O Mother of God and Gate of Heaven, open for us the doors of your
mercy."
Like so many other times in the
Church's hymnography, we may at first be perplexed and puzzled by this
particular turn of phrase. How is it that the Mother of God can be said to have
a temple? Through this perplexity, we begin to understand the nature of reality
in a new way. The visible Creation is the Temple of the Mother of God's glory,
because she herself is the Temple. In the same way, the rest of the Jerusalem
Temple can be called "the Temple of the Holy of Holies." So, we place
ourselves in the Temple of her glory, in this visible Creation that to some
extent reflects the Divine Majesty. But there is a further entrance by her
mediation, an entrance into "the doors of her mercy." Expressing our
desire to enter by this way is the beginning of repentance.
It would be very profitable for us
to reflect, even if very briefly, on this: Modern science has unlocked many of
the secrets of the cosmos, the visible Creation, in a descriptive way. But to
the most important aspect of Creation it has no access. It cannot plumb the
depths of the meaning of the universe. The meaning of the
cosmos can only be known by direct revelation from its Maker, and,
consequently, if it did not have a Maker, it would be meaningless. The meaning
of the visible Creation is liturgical. It is itself a Temple and a mystical
veil that serves to screen (as well as reveal) the Divine Presence.
In just the same context, earlier
in the Matins service we sang: "Open to me the doors of repentance, O
Giver of Life, as we worship in Your Temple this morning. Teach us how to
purify the temples of our bodies, and in Your compassion purify me by the
goodness of Your mercies." The following stanza follows on that same theme
as we begin by asking, "Lead me to the paths of salvation, O Mother of
God."
An aperture into the Holy of
Holies, the Divine Presence, has been opened to us, and what is revealed to us
through that aperture is objectively, incomparably beautiful, but we have to decide (aided by grace) to enter onto this path
of life. This decision requires of us a radical change of heart, a total change
of direction. Our metanoia amounts to a new orientation towards what is
Holy and the corresponding turning away from everything that is profane. It is
a staple of second-millennium Byzantine mystagogy that the signification of the
doors of the iconostas is the same whether those apertures are in fact open or
closed, but, at times, the very opening of the central doors, the Doors of
Paradise, conveys a special, profound meaning. In the service which we
celebrated last Wednesday night, for example, the Royal Doors are opened at the
beginning of the Great Canon of Saint Andrew of Crete, otherwise known as the
Canon of Repentance, and they remain open until the end of the canon. In this
way, the service shows us that repentance opens the way to God. It is
repentance that removes the obstacles between us and the Divine Presence.
We, like the Virgin in the Mystery
of the Annunciation are presented with the Word of God. We are evangelized. We
receive the preaching of the Gospel of Christ by the action of our conscience
through the ministry of our guardian angel. The Mother of God's response to
that Good News is the model for our response. There is
only one way to enter by this Gate into the life that is offered to us. It is
the Mother of God's own way: the virtues of humility and meekness.
The Logos of God is the fullness of
virtue; that is, He is charity, because the virtue of charity is the form for
all the other virtues. As soon as the pure light of the Logos hits the prism of
the time and space of this world it is refracted into a multitude of virtues.
All the virtues are present in the life of the Lord Jesus, but it particularly
manifests obedience, humility and meekness as an expression of love for the
Father. One who is meek and humble will also be obedient. Humility is the
virtue by which we know our place in the Creation that God has made (not too
high and not too low, but the precise place to the glory of God). Meekness, on
the other hand, is the virtue by which we recognize our circumstances as the
will of God. It is by meekness that we accept adversity and suffering with
patience, confident that God has willed those circumstances for compassionate
reasons.
God is virtue by nature. As the
Holy Apostle John the Theologian tells us, "God is love." Presumably,
we, who were created in the image and likeness of God would also have been
virtuous by nature. Our fallen nature, although retaining the image, has lost
the likeness of God. Thus, our practice of virtue, and especially in this case
humility and meekness, is the essence of repentance. In the same way that we
cannot expose ourselves to the rays of the sun without being browned by them,
we cannot turn towards God without being "virtued" by the virtue that
is consequent to His nature.
We are left, once again, with various
questions that are essential to our personal examination, whether in the
context of Great Lent or in day to day life, as we ponder the virtues of this
Mystery of the Annunciation, the virtues of the Doors of Paradise. First of all,
in the virtue of humility, we can profitably ask ourselves whether we are
comfortable with that place that God has given us in His creation? Are we
seeking to be led by the Holy Spirit in the path of formation as a Christian,
and thus, as a saint; or are we grasping, acquisitive, ambitious—seeking some
sort of gain for its own sake or as some sort of “self-actualization?” Secondly,
in the virtue of meekness, are we accepting of reality (that is, our
circumstances), or are we getting upset, angry and resentful about the
direction of our day, our life? Have we discovered an ability to find joy in
adverse conditions? Have we meditated on this: getting angry at conditions or
circumstances is rebellion against being and the Author of being?
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