The Pantocrator of Gracanica by Fr. Stamatis Skliris

They painted a beautiful, robust Pantocrator, combining humanity and divine glory. But the look in His eyes has something special, which deserves special mention. The Pantocrator’s eyebrows are emphatically raised, so that Christ’s eyes are particularly focused on the believer, who converses in prayer with the God-Man. His raised eyebrows draw the facial muscles upward and create horizontal wrinkles which furrow the forehead. He “leans” over the viewer. He pays special attention to that person, not passing him over indifferently, but looking at him with wide-open eyes that raise the upper eyelids, wrinkling the forehead of the God-Man as if He loves man so deeply that He suffers with him, considering his plight, desiring to support him, to help him. Here we have the central idea and theological reality that characterizes the Astrapas school—God’s humanity. Gracanica’s uniqueness lies in the fact that the so-called Pantocrator, which inspires liturgical awe, is depicted not just as the God-Man—i.e., God who assumed human nature—but as Co-Man, identifying Himself with man in his suffering and helplessness, identifying Himself with human pain through His suffering on the Cross and His humiliating death. Through His philanthropic gaze, the majestic Pantocrator lowers Himself and meets His creation. The eternal and infinite meets the finite in a particular place and time, within history, where they reconcile within the same fate.

This composition, with its wrinkles in the forehead, was not repeated in other Byzantine churches, perhaps because its boldness brought it to the threshold of the psychologization of the divine drama. The drama of the Cross is not confined to the human emotions of pain and torment, but within the Church’s liturgy is illuminated by the overcoming of tragedy by the Resurrection of Christ, who thus becomes the Savior of both man and all creation. Gracanica’s Pantocrator is, therefore, truly unique, since it was not copied from anyone. It is original and loving, and for this reason it constitutes a portrait of God, as Christ’s wonderfully loving eyes have revealed it to human beings. The riddle of human destiny finds its solution in the Pantocrator’s theandric gaze.

The article comes from Fr. Stamatis' wonderful website:

http://www.holyicon.org/

A Paschal Homily by Professor Christos Yannaras

"Let him damn me a hundred, a thousand times, it is enough that he exists."

This sentence, placed in the mouth of a character in a theatrical work by Jean-Paul Sartre, is a mark and a measure (I dare to believe) of a revelatory metaphysical hunger.

Does he exist? The question lingers (and will always linger) unanswered. "If I must say whether or not God exists, I am closer to His truth when saying that He does not exist, since God is something entirely different from that which I recognize as existence." (A confession of great boldness from Maximus the Confessor)

If God were a given in Newtonian physics, there would not have been any rational human person. And this for the same reason that an infant will never enter the world of language and symbols, the human world, if its mother holds it day and night in her arms and gives it her breast. We are ushered into language and understanding because within the context of the care of the infant the mother is both the joy of presence and the pain of absence - because the need for food is a desire for relation. A God who gives himself as a matter of necessity would abolish the presuppositions for the transformation of need into demand, of desire into language and symbols, into reason and rationality.

Humans are rational because their being is erotic [by “erotic” Professor Yannaras means the love that takes us outside ourselves] and it is erotic because God is absence. But absence means vital lack, painful thirst, and distressing darkness. "I walk in your night," continues Sartre's character. "Give me your hand, tell me, you are the darkness, right? The night - harrowing, complete absence. You are the one present in the all-embracing absence, the one we hear when everything falls silent, the one we see when nothing is visible. Immemorial night, great night that precedes all that there is…"

This Absence humanizes us but we experience it as night and cannot bear it. The reasons for this are difficult to discern. In any case it is clear that instead of Absence we would rather have tangible fetishes, irrefutable evidence of existence and presence. We want to be in possession of certainties, private proofs, and from proofs to derive power. We are interested in ourselves only, God is simply an 'accessory' of our ego. We need Him so that He may lend us self-confidence, authority, social status; so that He may ease our difficulties in life, and be the psychological antidote to our phobias and panics; and finally so that He may 'save' us and guarantee our existence even after death, so that our ego will exist eternally, without end.

But consider now how the 'atheist' Sartre overturns our egocentric (supposedly 'religious') soteriology. "Let him damn me a hundred, a thousand times, it is enough that he exists." The 'atheist', in an unexpected leap, reaches the heights of erotic selflessness. If he exists, that's enough for me, even if I am damned. My foremost desire is Him. If He exists, everything has meaning: my existence and my damnation, the good and the bad, justice and injustice, the world and history. If He exists, everything begins from love and aims at love, everything is related to Him, everything is judged in accordance with the degree to which His manic love for His creatures is reciprocated.

Existence has meaning when life becomes relation - relation is not something that can be destroyed by death. If "even the hairs of your head are all numbered" (Luke 12:7, Matthew 10:30), if there is a Love which composes the miracle of the world, if the wisdom and beauty of creatures call forth in the fullness of relation, then the thirst of the human person has a vital purpose and his hope is realistic. We thirst for life - that is, to be related to Him, not to survive forever as an individual unit, not the hell of the endless loneliness of the ego.

With the brain nothing is explained, countless 'why's' remain unanswered. Why should death cut little children down, why the biological insanity of cancer, why injustice, and why do the unscrupulous come out victorious? Relentless, unbearable questions, without end, show up the human journey as a wild absurdity. And the 'answers' formulated by ideologically driven religions (the 'scientific' apologetics of their governing institutions) crudely offend against the intelligence and dignity of humanity. The blame, they say, lies with the 'freedom' of the human being, not that individual 'freedom' of ours which is ensnared by genetic and socio-historical factors, but rather some dilemma of choice symbolically figured in the 'first' human being (was he a cave man? an ancestor of homo sapiens?) and as a result of his actions we are now faced with the absurdity and horror of human existence.

If we want to get serious, answers might be forthcoming after the leap recommended by Sartre - the leap involved in renouncing egocentric soteriology. In the enthralling pictorial language of so-called 'Byzantine' iconography, by which means was expressed that ecclesiastical experience that is impervious to the uses of power, Christ crucified on the cross is the reality of the Resurrection. This is because death is "trampled upon" only "by means of death", only with the leap towards the height of erotic selflessness.

The 'gospel' of the church is not announced with the language of Apologetics, the language of ideology. It is proclaimed only with the language of the Feast, the language of color and music, of poetry and drama - a language that can be accessed only from within the battle of ascetic self-renunciation.

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The Gospel According to Abba Isaac

God the Lord surrendered His own Son to death on the Cross for the fervent love of creation... This was not, however, because He could not redeem us in another way, but so that His surpassing love, manifested hereby, might be a teacher unto us. And by the death of His Only-begotten Son He made us near to Himself. If He had had anything more precious, He would have given it to us, so that by it our race might be His own. Because of His great love for us it was not His pleasure to do violence to our freedom, although He is able to do so, but He chose that we should draw near to Him by the love of our understanding. For the sake of His love for us and obedience to His Father, Christ joyfully took upon Himself insult and sorrow... In like manner, when the saints become perfect, they all attain to this perfection, and by the superabundant outpouring of their love and compassion upon all men they resemble God.

When we find love, we partake of heavenly bread and are made strong without labor and toil. The heavenly bread is Christ, who came down from heaven and gave life to the world. This is the nourishment of angels. The person who has found love eats and drinks Christ every day and every hour and is thereby made immortal. …When we hear Jesus say, “Ye shall eat and drink at the table of my kingdom,” what do we suppose we shall eat, if not love? Love, rather than food and drink, is sufficient to nourish a person. This is the wine “which maketh glad the heart.” Blessed is the one who partakes of this wine! Licentious people have drunk this wine and become chaste; sinners have drunk it and have forgotten the pathways of stumbling; drunkards have drunk this wine and become fasters; the rich have drunk it and desired poverty, the poor have drunk it and been enriched with hope; the sick have drunk it and become strong; the unlearned have taken it and become wise.

Far be it that we should ever think such an iniquity that God could become unmerciful! For the property of Divinity does not change as do mortals. God does not acquire something which He does not have, nor lose what He has, nor supplement what He does have, as do created beings. But what God has from the beginning, He will have and has until the [unending] end, as the blessed Cyril wrote in his commentary on Genesis. Fear God, he says, out of love for Him, and not for the austere name that He has been given. Love Him as you ought to love Him; not for what He will give you in the future, but for what we have received, and for this world alone which He has created for us. Who is the man that can repay Him? Where is Gehenna, that can afflict us? Where is perdition that terrifies us in many ways and quenches the joy of His love? And what is Gehenna as compared with the grace of His resurrection, when He will raise us from Hades and cause our corruptible nature to be clad in incorruption, and raise up in glory him that has fallen into Hades?

As for me I say that those who are tormented in hell are tormented by the invasion of love. What is there more bitter and violent than the pains of love? Those who feel they have sinned against love bear in themselves damnation much heavier than the most dreaded punishments. The suffering with which sinning against love afflicts the heart is more keenly felt than any other torment. It is absurd to assume that the sinners in hell are deprived of God’s love. Love is offered impartially. But by its very power it acts in two ways. It torments sinners, as happens here on earth when we are tormented by the presence of a friend to whom we have been unfaithful. And it gives joy to those who have been faithful.

That is what the torment of hell is in my opinion: remorse. But love inebriates the souls of the sons and daughters of heaven by its delectability.

In love did God bring the world into existence; in love is God going to bring it to that wondrous transformed state, and in love will the world be swallowed up in the great mystery of the One who has performed all these things…