Prof. Richard Schneider “You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit.…” Every Orthodox worshipper is familiar with the icon of Christ known as “the Pantokrator” (ruler or judge of all things): a large bust of Jesus Christ, usually fully frontal and somewhat stern, with His right hand raised in blessing and his left hand holding a book, open or closed. This image occupies a dominant place in the overall program of any Orthodox church; even the barest mission chapel will have the Pantokrator placed on the south side of the holy doors. In Middle-Byzantine programming, a huge Pantokrator image was placed at the apex of a central dome, directly over and enveloping the faithful gathered beneath it. Even casual first-time visitors to Orthodox churches instantly recognize the power of this icon and thus learn of its centrality in the worshipful theology that is the liturgy. What is not so often noticed, however—except by those who have acquired the excellent habit of looking at icons reverentially, with close attention to detail—is that when the book held by Christ the Pantokrator is open, the Scriptural text which it contains is quite variable; there is a wide range of choices of possible verses (e.g. John 14:6). This freedom of choice points to an essential feature of the nature of icons: like the liturgy itself (using the fundamental insight of Fr Alexander Schmemann), icons are a poetic, artistic form of theology; their primary function in worship is to instruct, to motivate both mind and heart, and to teach us the fundamental truths—exactly as Christ himself does (Jn 16:13)—about where we are and what we are doing. The ever-changeable scriptural text in the painted book is a key aspect of this teaching function of the icon. The selected passage of the word of God, in the hands of the Word of God (Jn 1:1), becomes an interpretative key to one or another central theological understanding of Christ. One very common choice for the text in the book of the Pantokrator is the theme for this Education Day, John 15:16 as quoted at the head of this essay; indeed, there is a major icon with this text in the Three Hierarchs Chapel at the seminary. At first thought, an icon which uses this passage—with focus on the brief excerpt from the whole which appears on the icon—seems both highly appropriate and also almost obvious. The message is a clear command to apostolicity; if we seek to be proper worshippers, secure in the truth as followers of Christ the “true vine” (Jn 15:1), then we are called to bring into being the fruit which the vine bears. To be pastoral is the responsibility—and even the essential quality, our “appointment”—of every Christian worthy of the name, not only of the clergy; any branch that “bears no fruit” is subject to being pruned (Jn 15:2). If we read the entire section of the Gospel for which 15:16 serves as a climax and conclusion,[1] the all-pervasiveness of the call to an active apostolate is evident throughout: 15:2, 5, 8, 12-13, 16-17. All-pervasiveness is not too strong an expression: the verb in verse 16, which says we are “appointed” is the same verb as that which directs the “laying down of one’s life” in verse 13. But there is another significant understanding of the icon which results when John 15:16 is the text, a meaning which goes right to the very heart of how we read every icon and, beyond that, how we relate to the subject which the Pantokrator icon depicts, and what message we finally grasp from the whole of John 15:1-17. The recognition that we are chosen, not in an arbitrary, near-Calvinist way as “elected” willy-nilly but rather to fulfill an active role in the apostolic work, “appointed to bear fruit,” suggests a dynamic, co-operative (“synergistic”) relationship between us the chosen and Christ who chose us: “I am the vine and you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit.” (Jn 15:5; see also 7-8, 10-11). And this sense of dynamic interaction between Christ and his faithful followers in action (Jn 15:14) is just the same as the interactive, interpretative dialogue which is necessary before we can “read” an icon and so make its message our own. Grasp of the significance of any icon comes not from a passive, unreflective gazing—that experience is truly “fruitless”—but rather from the insightful recognition of “the message” which comes from a faith that seeks to understand. When we approach this Pantokrator icon and read—or better, “hear” (Mt 7:24)—its words actively, so that we recognize ourselves as Christ recognizes us when he chooses us, then we are truly “slaves no longer” (Jn 15:15) in the most significant possible way: a slave would not know (another translation is “understand”) what the master is saying (Jn 15:15). The very first fruit of faithful Orthodox worship in the presence of the icon is an understanding of the word/Word by which (by Whom) we are chosen, and this understanding is prompted by an active reading of the icon itself. This reading, in turn, becomes our prompt to bear the full, ripe fruit of acting on the words/Word (Mt 7:24), accepting our apostolic responsibility to each other (Jn 17:18, 22-23). We are called to be Christ’s friends (Jn 15:15) through his giving of himself to us (15:4 et passim esp. ch. 17); the presence of the icon in the midst of our worship serves to signify this eternal gift and to recall us—every time we view it with reverence—to the fact that he is in us and we in him (Jn 14:20). As we penetrate the surface of the icon to reach its double message—both apostolic and hermeneutic—so it “sends us forth” as apostles (Lk 9:1-2) to lay down our lives (Jn 15:13) in the most fundamental way possible: to love one another (Jn 15:12). It is this understanding—not considerations of aesthetics or sentimentality or “slavery”—which leads the Orthodox to love the icon, too. St Vladimir’s Seminary has undertaken a major study project on the kind of education which will produce model clergy; what better gift for a newly ordained priest than an icon of the Pantokrator with John 15:16 as its verse? But if this essay is correct, this icon should be a gift for every occasion of showing the world the truth of Christ’s love; the image of Christ which reveals the love of the Father (Jn 14:8-12) becomes the image of all of our works (Jn 14:13); the message of this icon underlies baptisms, marriages, catechisms, and every other action of the Christian apostolate. -- [1] There is a fundamental principle of Orthodox exegesis, or interpretation, of both Scripture and iconography which is engaged by this and following remarks. While the icon – or the preacher giving a sermon – may quote or cite a small excerpt or piece of a text, that fragment is never to be regarded as a unit of meaning all by itself, distinct and separate from the rest of the text. We always interpret in the context of the whole of Scripture – this is one of the senses of Orthodox theoria –which practically means that we read any fragment or piece, excerpted for reasons of effect, in relationship to the entirety of its context. [ back ]
|
