Choose Your Glasses

 If you told me in high school that the Bible talked about seven-headed Satanic dragons, leopard-bear-lion hybrids, and a horned beast who inscribed ‘666’ on men’s foreheads and right hands, I don’t think I would have ever become Christian. [1]. Was anyone serious about wholeheartedly believing in all this happening in some place called Heaven? In fact, if one had not shown me that this came from the Book of Revelation, I would have guessed this to be either a very creative (or maniacal) fantasy novel.

No, not part of a whimsical medieval comic book or novel. This is actually what happens/is to happen in the heavenly world beyond us! Royal MS 19 B XV. 

Perhaps, I should tip my hat to Rudolf Bultmann. Maybe my example vindicates his assertion that this is all “mythological talk” that is “a thing of the past.” [2]. I certainly would have asked the exact same question as Bultmann, albeit in far less eloquent terms:

“How in the world does modern common sense understand any of this?!”

That’s the key. “Modern common sense.” Dragons and beasts in this alternate realm called "Heaven" aren't part of that. But it's all in the scripture! Admittedly, I was entertained by our class discussions on John possibly being in an altered mental state. Are we to take John’s word literally? Revelation is a prophetic vision, after all. [3]. The synoptic Gospels paint a simpler picture of Judgment with Christ separating the saved and the damned like sheep and goats. [4]. Yet, John’s vision takes place in that heavenly realm, far beyond the precipices of any limited, human periphery. We bear, as faithful Christians, the duty of believing according to the witness of John that this heavenly war will unfold.

Wait, it will happen. It (likely) did not already happen. The introduction in the Mercers' play on Judgment notes that “the Judgment is the only event of the future dramatized in the cycle.” [5]. Now, I would argue that most people would read that remark nonchalantly. But it made me realize that this is where WE enter the story—yes, this fantastical, mythical story that many today would find utterly absurd. The parts of the gospels about Judgment and Revelation quintessentially cannot be read as historical narratives; these visions and prophecies carry us into our future.

Consequently, we, just as the medieval Christians, just as John exiled on Patmos, are all part of the same story. That meant that we were not merely engaging in an anthropological exercise. We were not simply exploring the impacts the millennial commemoration of Christ’s death had on 11th-century Christians or the lasting influence of the Anglo-Norman vision of the Apocalypse. [6]. We are ourselves trying to see God by examining how our predecessors tried to see God. The absurdity of it all is only because "modern common sense" cannot see God. At least, not until He comes again. [7].

Allow me to briefly digress. Since today was the last day of classes in my college career, I thought it fitting to take a “celebratory” selfie. Coincidentally, I wore one of my many pairs of sunglasses because it was sunny outside. It was Professor Fulton Brown’s comment about the readings that reminded me of that selfie; she introduced them by suggesting that each of them used different “modes of proof.” That is, they each portrayed the “reality” of the impending Judgment in different ways.

My goofy picture I took on Thursday morning commemorating my last day of college classes. Our class discussion made me think of the many sunglasses I wear and how they affect my peripheral vision. Nonetheless, I still don't "see" God with any of my glasses on. The cross pendant is also quite fitting.

We also discussed how the Book of Revelation as well as the prophecies of Jesus in the gospels, much like the rest of the Bible, are about seeing God (or, as this class has now taught me, entering the Tabernacle). Connecting these last few points, I then suggested that each primary reading was attempting to “see” God through different means.

First, the Christ III poem in the Exeter Book was attempting to see God in his awesome might through poetic and emotive lyricism:

“All the faithless children of men

Will suddenly see in their false hearts

How cruelly they mocked and scorned him,

Spat in his eyes, taunted and tormented him. . .” [8].

 Second, Hugh of St. Victor attempted to see God through a scrutinizing, technical theological lens in which he incorporated both Aristotle and Augustine. For example, he labors through chapters XIII to XX on the physical details of how the dead of all characters, shapes, and sizes are to be resurrected. [9]. Third, the Mercers’ enactment of the Last Judgment is a dramatic attempt to personify the impending Judgment, appealing to a human audience. [10].

Returning to the obvious question, what does a random pair of sunglasses have to do with any of the above? My running sunglasses are tinted yellow, meaning that they impose some “pigmentation” on my normal periphery when I look around. In a sense, they change how I see the world around me. Yet, I still have sight even without them. By no means, however, would I ever claim that I can see God right now.

This is why I think each of our readings is like putting on different glasses. Just as each pair fundamentally changes how I see by either color tints or magnifying lenses, internalizing how each mode of presentation of Revelation (whether via iconography, dramatic play, theological treatise, or poem) is my attempt to “see” God in different ways by understanding how people of the past tried to “see” God. Indeed, reading John’s Revelation itself is an exercise of trying to “see” God, by internalizing the angelic vision John received while on Patmos.

While each pair of glasses fundamentally alters my vision, none of them bring me fully to God. I might see things in slightly different shades or sizes, but I do not see Heaven and Hell, angels, or dragons. The unique problem of the biblical accounts of Judgment Day is that it is unironically a revelation. We, as spectators, cannot simply “live out” this vision firsthand.

Similarly, each medium we immersed ourselves in had limitations. The Mercers’ rendition captured well the human element of Judgment but clearly had constraints in terms of casting, equipment, and other surreal elements (souls are obviously not humans dressed in grey rags). The iconography was amazingly surreal and dramatic but consists nonetheless of still-life pictures at the end of the day. The Exeter Book appeals lyrically but falls short in terms of visual imagery. In all of these, our own senses crave more.

The Last Judgment by Hans Memling (ca. 1467-71).

Last Judgment by Giselbertus (ca. 1130).

The York Mystery Plays in 2022. Not a materially convincing enactment of the story we all live in, but an important and strangely appealing one, nevertheless.

Yet above all, the common shortcoming is that they all come from the imagination of people who cannot fully see God. It is no wonder, then, why each differs dramatically from another. We observed in class, however, that almost all of them are very faithful to the scripture and other canonical details surrounding Judgment. The variance of depictions feels much less a mystery when we consider that they are all from people who have not fully “seen” God.

What does this leave for us today, then? We are in the story, still trying to figure out that very story. Having spent nine weeks in this class, I have come to realize that the class is much more than an anthropological exercise. It’s not merely a matter of reading “history.” It is, instead, trying to see God by joining the thousands-of-years-long story of others trying to also see God. So, until Judgment Day comes and I enter the Tabernacle, I'll resort to trying on different sunglasses.

--PJZ

1. Rev. 12-13.

2. Bultmann, Rudolf. “New Testament and Mythology” (1941). New Testament and Mythology and Other Basic Writings. Trans. Schubert M. Ogden. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1984, pp. 2-3.

3. Rev. 1:1, 9-11.

4. Matt. 25:32.

5. “The Mercers: The Last Judgment.” York Mystery Plays: A Selection in Modern Spelling. Eds. Richard Beadle and Pamela King. Oxford, U.K.: Oxford University Press, 1984, p. 266.

6. Fulton Brown, Rachel. From Judgment to Passion: Devotion to Christ and the Virgin Mary, 800-1200. New York: Columbia University Press, 2002, pp. 64-9; Mâle, Emile. The Gothic Image: Religious Art in France of the Thirteenth Century (1972). Trans. Dora Nussey. New York: Routledge, 2018, pp. 359-61.

7. Matt. 24:30; Mark 13:26; Luke 21:27; John 12:45; John 16:16.

8. “Christ III: Judgment.” The Complete Old English Poems. Trans. Craig Williamson. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2017, pp. 349.

9. Hugh of St. Victor. On the Sacraments of the Christian Faith. Trans. Roy J. Deferrari. Cambridge, Mass.: The Medieval Academy of America, 1951, pp. 457-62.

10. “The Mercers: The Last Judgment.”