Matthew 28:16-20 (Matins)
Ephesians 2:4-10
Luke 12:16-21
Sisters, did you notice how densely packed the first-person pronoun was in that Gospel reading? Even in this epigram, the personal pronoun was "I, me, my." And this fellow is not visited this night by the Angel of the Lord, but by God. I would say that this conversation, the most promising conversation of his life, has begun in most un-promising way. May God have mercy on his soul.
To what shall we compare the Sacred Scriptures? Inspired by the Holy Spirit, they stand alone and are incommensurably holy. This explains the Patristic admonitions that we not read them willy-nilly as if they were Greek literature or philosophical treatises. We are to approach them with care and reverence.
You see the Evangel. It is always on our Altar. We do not simply pick it up and read it. We bow before it. We osculate. We treat it as if it were sacred because it is. We are to exert every diligence to understand them rightly .... which is no simple task.
But the early Church Fathers did not leave us empty-handed, bequeathing to us principles and methods as we enter our solemn and lengthy career (begun in Sunday school) as interpreters of these sacred texts. We are told that at the very least, we are to interpret them in four different dimensions.
First, they are true records or chronicles of history. We call this the Literal level of meaning. St. Luke was highly regarded as a historian of his time compared favorably to Herodotus, Thucydides, Xenophon, or Polybius. To take the example of Jesus' Parable of the Prodigal Son, we are given to know that Jesus was a teacher, an actual man, and a religious leader. Modern scholar believe that he wrote this "dyptich," Luke-Acts, as formal, legal testimony presented to Roman juridical officials submitted as evidence in the trial of the Apostle Paul.
St. John and St. Luke are also plainly-spoken concerning His Divine Identity. He also the Son of Man. He is a teller of holy parables. In one of these, we learn that a man had two son and that one son demanded his inheritance while he was still young enough to enjoy it. This is the literal level.
Second, the Scriptures are to be read as Allegory, literally "words other than those you hear in the agora, or public square." That is, the Bible sets out a hidden, or spiritual, meaning. In our example parable, we are to understand that a spiritual journey of theosis is unfolding (among many, many other allegories). Often enough, our journeys begin as the younger son — ruled by our passions, rash in our judgments, impulsive, and apt to squander what we ought to manage carefully. Later, we advance to becoming the older son — steady, faithful, and scrupulous in our stewardship, though perhaps unforgiving and judgmental. Finally, we arrive to the spiritual fulness of the Father, Who resembles God. He desires to bless us. But He takes cares to honor our freedom to choose for ourselves. He would be a shallow fellow indeed if he constantly instructed us in every little thing (what we would call a micro-manager). What sort of teacher would I be on the construction site if I continually repeated every direction to my helper. I must give him an opportunity to think for himself. And the Father is forgiving when we have made the wrong choices and desire pardon. He represents the abundance of life and grace.
Third, the pericopes we reflect on in Scripture have an ethical dimension. As we would say, "The moral of the story is ...." In the case of our example parable, the younger son represents a spirit of carpe diem, or as we would say, "Go for it! .... not counting the cost." But rashness quickly comes to grief, and impulsive decisions made in the case of grave matters can lead to catastrophe. As we read in Proverbs,
There is a way that seems right to a man,
But its end is the way of death. Even in laughter the heart may sorrow, And the end of mirth may be grief. (Prov 14:12-13) |
As I say, "the moral of the story."
This dimension is known as the Tropological level of meaning.
Appropriately, the fourth and final level of interpretation has to do with the Last Things, called the Eschatological level of meaning. As all things move along a timeline, every minute and hour draws closer to the Final Judgment of all people and to a particular judgment for each of us at life's end. (Obviously, the rich fool has arrived to this moment.) This level of interpretation is applied to individual passages and to the Bible as a whole. In the case of the Prodigal Son, he has lived recklessly and riotously — drunkenness, prostitutes, gambling. And this life quickly comes to grief as he finds himself left in the cold, exposed to every happenstance, dying of hunger, competing with hogs for filthy kernels of grain. He approaches God (signified by the Father) and reviews his life in the brilliant light of God's perfect and all-knowing gaze. Perhaps this signifies a review of his entire life. The great theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar said that when we close our eyes we shall gaze into the face of the Lord and see ourselves as we really are.
Four levels of meaning: literal, allegorical, tropological, and eschatological. The early Church Father Origen, perhaps the most influential of all the Fathers, tells us that the primary meaning of Scripture is the allegorical, or spiritual, level. He warns us that in reading the Bible literally, we are apt to find ourselves at a dead end. Or we might draw lines of interpretation that seem to contradict each other. These are sure signs that the Scripture we are studying transcends our earthly categories. Always search first for the allegorical meaning, he says. Look for the spiritual meaning first.
A corollary of these principles of interpretation is that individual words, phrases, motifs, and themes are best explained by means of other passages in the New Testament or the Septuagint, the translation of the Hebrew Bible used by Jesus and the Apostles. This principle is known by the sentence, "Scripture glosses Scripture." Frequently, this method, in particular, opens the doors to the Scriptures' "deeper depths" .... "deep calls unto deep at the noise of your waterfall" (Ps 41:7).
You see, we enter into a holy space with hidden roads leading from passage to passage. These hidden roads light up before our eyes when we look for the same word or the same phrase in other parts of the Bible. (Be careful! The Bible is written in Greek.) I am sure that this was one of the ways that the Fathers discovered the Bible to be inspired by the Holy Spirit. You see, Who placed these hidden roads in such a marvelous fashion in so many disparate places if it were not one Author. Yes, the Scriptures come to us in a messy fashion. Nonetheless, in all of this messiness, one Author. It is truly said that "God writes straight with crooked lines."
Our Gospel lesson appointed for today is a brief parable: five sentences. In fact, we might call it a tableau. Small wonder it should proceed from our icon-writing Evangelist, St. Luke. Here we have the proverbial scene of the "king in his counting house." He is alone, of course. Around him are all his riches. We have noted that every other word in his speech if the first-person personal pronoun. His imagination is sated with himself. He is like the man who over and over again regales you with stories of his success: "Who could have guessed that I would attain such glory!" Have you ever met anyone like that? He thinks of nothing else and no one else. His own happiness and security chart the fullest extent of his thought-world. He seems to think that he is master even of his eternal destiny. But, of course, we are never alone, and all our thoughts and words never go unheeded. We live our lives in the brilliant light of God's Presence. Accordingly, this brief parable features two characters: the rich fool and God. This is the literal level.
Now, wait a minute. If God is included as one of the characters, shouldn't this level of meaning be accounted as allegorical? That would be the view of liberal theology. You see, God is a metaphor by their lights. As Episcopal canon to the ordinary once told me, "Do you see that little sitting on her grandmother's knee? That's what God is." But such belief, while widespread, is not worthy to be entertained, only dismissed. In the life of faith, God is included in the literal, or historcal, level of meaning. He made the literal level of being. And His Son entered history as a historical figure .... indeed, as our greatest historical Figure.
The allegorical level opens to us as we look to Scripture for other rich men who are masters of the granary. In the Book of Genesis, we find the most imposing figure, who is master of the granary, who, of course, is Jacob's son Joseph. We imagine his granary doors to be high gates, indeed, for they open onto the granaries of mighty Egypt. But if Joseph has "built greater," he has done so in order to achieve the happiness and security of every Egyptian family as he prudently stores up grain against a time of famine. He characteristically thinks not at all about his own gain. And is far from being the man who declares, "Look what I achieved!" By contrast, he is one who is left for dead by his own brothers and then survives only to be sold into slavery. He forgives all, an awe-inspiring humility, indeed.
He is the contrast that brings the parable of the rich, selfish fool into sharp focus: a Patriarch, on the one hand, and a man, on the other, who at least nominally is a son of Abraham. You see, Jesus sets out a spectrum. On one end, a Patriarch himself, and on the other, a poor excuse for a son of Abraham. But like another rich man who paid no heed to the poor, yet another reference to Scripture, from St. Luke (16:24), his soul will be required of him this night, and we do not foresee the Bosom of Abraham as his destination.
We do not have to search for the tropological level of interpretation. We do not have to cast our minds about looking for the moral of the story because Jesus provides it explicitly: "So is he who lays up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God."
Let us approach the final level. It is hard to think of another story from Scripture that is told so directly in the light of the Eschaton. The scales of judgment hang heavily above the rich fool. Indeed, the story seems to be told in retrospect, that is, as a cautionary tale after the Judgment.
In the context of granaries, especially in the light of a good steward and an evil steward, another reference to Scripture comes to mind, a vivid, chilling passage, again from St. Luke's Gospel:
"His winnowing fan is in His hand, and He will thoroughly clean
out His threshing floor, and gather the wheat into His barn; but the chaff He will burn with unquenchable fire." (Lu 3:17) |
.... one of the most chilling passages in Scripture. This is St. John the Baptist, of course, describing Jesus. Distant from our imaginations is the meek and mild Jesus Who, we are assured by heretic universalists, will sweep everyone into Heaven on account of His famous mercy. I search the Gospels. I cannot find that Jesus.
These are apt images as we begin our journey down the penitential road to His crib side. We are right to dig deep as we mine the Scriptures for Wisdom. Attend!
But take heart, for our God loves, first of all, mercy and watches for our return along a road side, with our faces downcast and regretting what we have done. searching our souls for signs of contrition and regret.
Meditating on His Nativity, an eloquent composer of our own time placed his thoughts on the lips on one of the Three Magi:
The child we seek doesn't need our gold.
On love, on love alone He will build His Kingdom. His pierced hand will hold no scepter. His haloed head will wear no crown. His might will not be built on your toil. Swifter than lightning He will soon walk among us. He will bring us new life and receive our death, and the keys to His city belong to the poor. (Gian Carlo Menotti) |