Nisibis IV
The fourth Nisibene Hymn was prompted by the second Persian invasion of the territory of the city of Nisibis. Once again, less than a year after the conclusion of the first siege, the city had enemy combatants, once again, under its walls. The hymn testifies to the great state of fear that gripped the whole populace.
This particular hymn falls into two parts. The first part is centered upon the image of the Lord as the Good Shepherd. The second part expounds the image of the Lord as the Divine Physician. Both of these images are commonplaces for St. Ephrem. On the one hand, the image of the Good Shepherd is appealed to, in order to beseech the Lord for safety and security from the "wolves" that are circling outside. On the other hand, the Divine Physician's services are even more necessary, because the external realities have their source and cause within the hearts of the people.
First, looking at the image of the Good Shepherd, we see a strange alternation in the hymn between references to the Shepherd standing amidst His flock, defending them with His staff, and Christ as a little Child. Thus, the sixth stanza tells us: "Thy flock has seen the wolves, and lo! it cries loudly. Behold, how terrified it is! Let Thy Cross be a staff, to drive out them that would swallow it up. Then, immediately, the seventh stanza follows: "Accept the cry of my little ones, that are altogether pure. It was He, the Infant of days, that could appease, O Lord, the Ancient of days. The day when the Babe came down, in the midst of the stall, the Watchers descended and proclaimed peace. May that peace be within all my streets, for all my offspring."
The central message of this first part of the hymn is that which is also expressed in most ancient icons of the Most Holy Mother of God. Christ is depicted in her arms not as a infant (it is not the case that the artists were incapable of naturalistic depictions of babies), but as merely a small adult. A depiction of the baby Jesus as a naturalistic infant would diminish His power. It would fail to symbolically convey that this baby is, nevertheless, the Almighty God. I am reminded of one of my handcrosses. Made in Jerusalem by Coptic Christians, this handcross is designed to use in confession. The handcross has two icons of the Mother of God, one on either side. On one side, there is a dark icon of the Mother and Child. The Mother holds her Child in her arms, but He holds a large sword (out of proportion with His Child's body). The Mother of God seems to be addressing the Child, interceding, convincing Him not to use that very formidable weapon. When the cross is turned over, on the other hand, there a beautiful, radiant and bright icon of the Mother of God. The sword is gone and the Child extends His hand in blessing.
Let us then, for now, move on to the second half of the hymn and to the image of the Divine Physician. This section begins in the 13th stanza, which begins with the words: There is a joy that is affliction, misery is hidden in it; there is a misery that is profit, it is a fountain of joys, in that new world." Ephrem continues to give an explicit example: "The happiness that my persecutor has gained, woes are hidden in it; therefore, I rejoice. The wretchedness that I have gained from him; happiness is concealed for me in it." In other words, pain, sorrow and suffering may be destructive poisons for those who are enemies of God, but those who are His friends experience the same things as medicine, which cures their passions and brings them to everlasting life. In this context, the couplet created by the 16th and 17th stanzas makes sense, "Thou, Healer of all, hast visited me in my sicknesses! Payment for Thy medicines, I cannot give Thee, for they are priceless." "Thy mercies in richness, surpass Thy medicines: they cannot be bought, they are given freely, it is by tears they are bartered."
As usual, St. Ephrem's use of these two images comprise very profound and insightful theological and spiritual messages. The most important of these messages is that suffering is not worthless. The corollary of this truth is: what human beings think is medicine is really nothing of the sort. Human medicine is directed towards the alleviation of suffering. The true and Divine medicine, on the other hand, is directed towards perfection in charity. True medicine may even CAUSE suffering, pain and sorrow, so that charity can grow. The greatest example of this is the Cross of Christ Himself. In it, we observe a sublime Divine Homeopathy wherein our true sufferings (our sins, passions and imperfections) are healed by His Suffering. We cannot buy God's medicines (mainly, our sufferings and trials), but we barter for them with our tears. This means that we cannot merit God's action in our life to make us perfect through charity, but we must continuously decide to cooperate with it by means of repentance. God sends us abundant medicine, but our response to it determines whether we will grow. We can accept our medicine or reject it. Drawing near the Good Shepherd, so as to be under the protection of His staff (the Holy Cross) isn't a seeking of refuge against pain and suffering. Instead, it is a protection against sin and, ultimately, death.
With this point, we arrive at the confluence of the teachings of St. Ephrem with the teachings of the other great saints of the Church, like St. Justin Martyr, St. Therese of Lisieux and many others. The meaning of reality is Christ. It is Logos, Who is the meaning and Who also imparts meaning. Christ, through the circumstances of the present moment, is leading us onward in the perfection of charity.
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