Daily Images of God--Lent 2022
Day 45 HOLY SATURDAY
April 16
HELL HARROWER
In the statement of belief framed in the 2nd-3rd century as a Baptismal Symbol called “the Apostles’ Creed,” we read “[Iesus Christus est] passus sub Pontio Pilato, crucifixus, mortuus, et sepultus, descendit ad inferos, tertia die resurrexit a mortuis” (“[Jesus Christ] suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended >>ad infernos<<, and on the third day rose from the dead.” "Infernos" means “the lower things” or “the lower ones,” and has been translated variously as “the dead,” “into the underworld,” or even “into Hell.” The idea of a descent to the underworld grew from a reference in Ephesians 4:9, “And what does ‘he ascended’ mean if it is not because he first descended into the lower parts of the earth.” This was understood together with 1 Peter 3:18-20 “For Christ also suffered for sins once, the righteous for the sake of the unrighteous, that he might lead you to God. Put to death in the flesh, he was brought to life in the spirit. In it he also went to preach to the spirits in prison, who had once been disobedient while God patiently waited in the days of Noah during the building of the ark, in which a few persons, eight in all, were saved through water,” and 1 Peter 4:6, where “good tidings were proclaimed to the dead.” The descent of Christ in spirit to the dead while his body lay in the tomb was called the “Harrowing [or Frightening of, Despoiling of] Hell” first in a homily of Aelfric of Eunsham in about 1000 CE. “Harrowing of Hell” expressed hope that Christ’s victory over death and was, in fact, to the benefit of all. I grew up in farm country, where “harrowing” had a different meaning that perhaps captures this hope better than the idea of “terrorizing Hell”: harrowing was the turning over of the soil in the early spring to help it capture more water and make it more fruitful.
Poem
Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell
Denise Levertov—1923-1997
Down through the tomb's inward arch
He has shouldered out into Limbo
to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber:
the merciful dead, the prophets,
the innocents just His own age and those
unnumbered others waiting here
unaware, in an endless void He is ending
now, stooping to tug at their hands,
to pull them from their sarcophagi,
dazzled, almost unwilling. Didmas,
neighbor in death, Golgotha dust
still streaked on the dried sweat of his body
no one had washed and anointed, is here,
for sequence is not known in Limbo;
the promise, given from cross to cross
at noon, arches beyond sunset and dawn.
All these He will swiftly lead
to the Paradise road: they are safe.
That done, there must take place that struggle
no human presumes to picture:
living, dying, descending to rescue the just
from shadow, were lesser travails
than this: to break
through earth and stone of the faithless world
back to the cold sepulchre, tearstained
stifling shroud; to break from them
back into breath and heartbeat, and walk
the world again, closed into days and weeks again,
wounds of His anguish open, and Spirit
streaming through every cell of flesh
so that if mortal sight could bear
to perceive it, it would be seen
His mortal flesh was lit from within, now,
and aching for home. He must return,
first, in Divine patience, and know
hunger again, and give
to humble friends the joy
of giving Him food—fish and a honeycomb.
Image: 14th century wood panel from England "Christ frees the dead from Hell."
No comments:
Post a Comment