Pardonne-moi

God’s mercy is a holy mercy, which knows how to pardon sin, not to protect it; it is a sanctuary for the penitent, not for the presumptuous.
Reported in Josiah Hotchkiss Gilbert,
Dictionary of Burning Words of Brilliant Writers 1895

Where there is injury let me sow pardon.
Francis of Assisi

(a great blue heron that found roosting atop a pine tree rather awkward / Julie Cook / 2015)

Je suis désole
Mi dispiace
I’m sorry. . .

No matter the language, traveling or at home,
I have learned first hand that a sincere apology can often
build a strong bridge to one’s fellow man.

It should be noted however that this is not the empty sort of quibbling little apology offered so flippantly by the arrogant. . .those ego pride wrapped individuals who have felt stepped upon, insulted or who have incorrectly felt a perceived insult where none was intended. This is not for those feeling inadvertently and off handedly offended. . .those who initially offend, while grievously failing to recognize the affront which they had actually caused. This is not a gushing or fawning sort of apology or the empty sorry of the rushed and self absorbed.
This is not the coerced apology contrived in order to save one’s hide.

This is a short, to the point, sincere gift from the heart–offered from one human being to another.

And yet, I admit, there are times and places where perhaps no apology is necessary at all.
Such are those times when something usually big, grand, and important goes a rye—a time in the spotlight or public eye when it is better to merely shrug off the moment with grace and style, never missing a step as if nothing ever happened. . .no apology, no admission of unplanned disaster or hapless guilt, just a “keep going while never looking back” sort of moment.

Julia Child, who we all know is one of my personal heroes, once offered a bit of advice along the same vein with regard to apologies.
Who among us, when cooking for family, friends or some seemingly important guest hasn’t experienced a disaster or two in the kitchen?

Something didn’t set, something burnt, something undercooked, something was seasoned entirely wrong, something was far too spicy or salty, something was cold when it was to be hot, something literally fell woefully flat. . .Shades of the young bride’s first Thanksgiving dinner. . .

Julia instructed, ”Never apologize. “She considered it unseemly for a cook to twist herself into knots of excuses and explanations. Such admissions “only make a bad situation worse, “she said, by drawing attention to one’s shortcomings (or self-perceived shortcomings) and prompting your guest to think: Yes, you’re right, this really is an awful meal. “The cook must simply grin and bear it,” Julia said firmly.
excerpt taken from an article in the NY Times written by Alex Prud’homme–Julia’s great nephew

We have seen that in recent months that there have been perilous moments in this delicate world of ours where Christians are finding themselves facing an accusatory finger pointed by an ever increasingly intolerant global public–
Dark words are cast forth like daggers. . .
“Backdown Christian. . .”
Don’t believe that. . .
“You can’t say that. . .”
“You fairytale worshiper you. . .”
“Your kind of Christianity is wrong. . .”
“Don’t say that in public. . .”
“You can’t pray here. . .”
“Don’t say that word. . .that Jesus word. . .”
“You and that faith of yours are not welcome here. . .”
“Renounce or be killed”

The initial reaction would be to politely apologize. . .
“Oh, I’m so sorry if I’ve offended you. . .”
Yet the Christian must, as Julia so eloquently states, “grin and bear it”–not backing down
from the conscious choice to believe in, to follow and to practice the words of Jesus Christ.

Ours is not a faith of apologies.
Jesus never apologized. . .
rather. . .
He spoke strong words. . .
He was clear and succinct–
“Take up your cross, follow me. . .it will not be easy.”
“There is no turning back.”
“You’re in with both feet or not at all.”
“You will lose riches, friends, family, jobs, possibly even your life,
for my name sake, but you will be with Me for all of eternity. . .”

No apologies. . .
No “I’m sorry”
No “My bad”

There will be times in life in which we all need to apologize,
offering a sincere and heartfelt “I am sorry”
Yet we must never feel obliged to apologize for being a follower of
The Nazarene,
Yeshua ben Yosef,
The Christos,
Jesus Christ,
The only begotten Son of God. . .

“Do not think that I came to bring peace on the earth; I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I came to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and a man’s enemies will be the members of his household.

“He who loves father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me; and he who loves son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me. And he who does not take his cross and follow after Me is not worthy of Me. He who has found his life will lose it, and he who has lost his life for My sake will find it.
Matthew 10: 30-38

Pantocrator

“According to greek mythology, humans were originally created with 4 arms, 4 legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.”
Plato

I don’t know what first drew me to this particular image, or more aptly put, Icon. Oh I’ve written about Icon’s before, quite some time ago, which means I don’t want to rewrite a post (see “What is an Icon” dated 3/1/13) however there is a little background necessary in order for one to fully appreciate the image accompanying this particular post.

An Icon, which translates to “image” is just that, an image. A bit of an artistic photograph if you will. It should be noted that Icons are not considered paintings at all, but rather are referred to as written images– as in the artist is not painting but actually “writing,” what I like to describe as, a love letter.

Now back to this particular image.
No doubt you have seen it at some time or other as it is quite notable as far as Icons are concerned. It is an image of the Christ, or Pantocrator as He is known in Greek/ Παντοκράτωρ—–meaning Divine (translated from the Hebrew El Shaddai). This particular image dates to the 6th century–let’s say 500 years or so after the death of Christ. It is considered to be the oldest known image of Christ or as He is known to many, as the Chirstos.

I don’t want to give an in-depth mini history lesson today regarding icons, or of this particular image, as there is so very much out there in the form of books or on the web for the curious to discover. I simply want to share with you something that is very meaningful to me. I think it is important to share with others the things that significantly impact our own lives as those are the things that make us who we are.

As a person who grew up with Western Christianity, or that of the Roman or Latin branch of Christianity, I was always accustomed, as no doubt you were, to what typically is considered to be images of Jesus. Benevolent images of a young man of fair skin complexion, soft brown hair and beard who most often had blue eyes. But the problem with that stereotypical image is that Jesus was not European. He was a Middle Eastern Jew. Therefore that meant he most likely had a more dark or olive skin tone, with a thicker head of very dark hair. He was an orthodox, meaning devout, Jew, so it is theorized that he most probably wore the hair ringlets as do the modern day Hasidic Jews. His features were not as close to ours in the West but rather he was closer in appearance to those currently living in Egypt, Syria, Jordan, Palestine, etc.

Knowing all of the geographical information of Jesus, I’ve never gravitated to the images depicted in much of our Western Culture’s art and literature regarding Jesus, as I just didn’t think it a true likeness. I knew he didn’t look like me– as he grew up in an entirely different area of the planet that does not have many light haired, blue eyed folks running about. I wanted to see Jesus for who is was, not some stylized image.

And so it was when I first saw this image—I was truly taken by this image. The question of whether or not I was glancing at the closest image of the man who has had the greatest impact on humankind–let alone my life, resonated in my head.

This particular image is considered to be the benchmark for all other artistic images of Jesus—that is until the expansion of the Christian Church in the West, meaning Europe and eventually the new continent of the Americas.

This Icon is located in St Catherine’s Monastery in the southern end of the Sinai Peninsula. St Catherine’s is located at the foot of the mountain, Mt Horeb, in which it is believed that God spoke to Moses in the form of the burning bush. It is also within these mountains that Moses later received the Ten Commandments. St. Catherine’s has been in existence as a practicing Monastery since the year 564—making St Catherine’s Monastery one of the oldest practicing monasteries known in all of Christendom.

It is troubling, given the current political crisis in Egypt, that St Catherine’s has had to shut its doors to pilgrims most recently as the safety of Christians, particularly in Egypt, is a perilous situation. I’m attaching a short nice informative link to a Youtube clip concerning a brief overview of St. Catherine’s as narrated by the monks:

There is also a most fascinating book based on the travels of two of the first Western woman, sisters from Scotland, who journeyed to St Catherine’s in the mid 1800’s. The Sisters of the Sinai by Jancie Soskice– Theirs was a journey of the discovery of ancient manuscripts. A most interesting true tale.

To the casual observer the life and worship at this most ancient of monasteries is something of another world and time—And so it is—yet it must be understood that the monks at St Catherine’s have been practicing these rituals since the year 500 with little to no change. . . so if anything, it is our worship today that is otherworldly and foreign. It is on my bucket list to one day travel to St. Catherine’s. The original burning bush is purported to be within the walls of the monastery as the bush in question actually does date to the time of Moses. The library is full of ancient texts as well as the largest collection of original ancient Icons all of which are housed within St. Catherine’s fortified walls. It is said that the aired conditions have helped to preserve these ancient and holy relics with many dating to the birth of the Christian faith.

The story goes that a cloth was found just at the inception of the monastery, buried within its walls, which was purported to have been part of the burial cloth of Jesus—not the Shroud but rather the face cloth that was customary of the time to be placed over the face of the deceased before being wrapped in the burial shroud. This cloth, or what the Eastern Church refers to as a napkin, Holy Napkin, is said to have, just as the shroud, held the image of a man—-of what the faithful claim to be that of Jesus. It was shortly after the discovery of this cloth that this particular image of Jesus, the Pantocrator of Sinai was created—making it the first known artistic image in existence based from something that is said to be the original image of Jesus—making this image to be the closest thing Christian followers would have to an exact image of Christ. Some stories even attribute the Icon’s creation to St Luke as he was considered an artist as well as a medical doctor.

But it is the facial features of this particular image that draws me from mere observer to that of one of awe and worshiper. The duality of God rests in this image–the Deity as well as the Human–two separate entities, yet united in one face. If an image of the face from the Shroud of Turin is laid over this image, the two faces are proportionate, lining up equally. If you split in half the face of this Icon’s image you will note that both halves of the face are vastly different, making this image asymmetrical rather than symmetrical– as we consider the human face to be–more equal than different.

One side of the face is that of a tender and loving man–that of pure-hearted love, that of Savior. The other side is a man harsh and stern–that of Judge of Mankind. I am reminded of the verse in Matthew where Jesus tells the disciples that at the time of Judgement He will separate the sheep form the goats. The sheep on the right having done the acts of kindness during their lives of clothing the naked, feeding the poor, visiting the sick and imprisoned will all see Glory. On the other hand are the goats, those to His left, who did not do the act of kindness to the strangers throughout their lives—they will be cast away to eternal damnation –the Savior vs Judge–the two compelling actions all within one individual.

I first saw this image, oddly enough, in a store specializing in Icons on a street corner in Rome. In the shadow of the great Latin Roman branch of Christianity, that of St Peter’s, exists an Eastern Orthodox store of Iconography. The irony was not lost on this little pilgrim. The store clerks spoke only Greek and no doubt Italian. There were reproductions of many Icons, but it was the Pantocrator of Sinai which truly spoke to me. It is said that one does not choose an Icon, but that the Icon chooses you. I brought home a copy that I eventually framed–later purchasing a mounted image from St Isaac’s Skete–a wonderful small orthodox Skete located in rural Wisconsin which offers a beautiful selection of mounted Icons as well as commissioned Icons by the trained monks. (http://www.skete.com )

And so it is, as I stand in my kitchen, just on the counter above the sink, sits a small collection of Icons. As I spend countless hours in the kitchen, I am afforded time to ponder these images—pondering the significance they play and have played in my life as well as the cascading significance they have played throughout the existence of humankind. I marvel and stand in awe of the duality of God. I am drawn to the face of both Grace and Judgement. At times I am compelled to look away, as I feel so unworthy, so less than, so dirty by the weight of my sins—and just when I feel defeated and worthless, less than— the face of Love draws me back–

Place me like a seal over your heart,
like a seal on your arm;
for love is as strong as death,
its jealousy unyielding as the grave.
It burns like blazing fire,
like a mighty flame.
Many waters cannot quench love;
rivers cannot sweep it away.
If one were to give
all the wealth of one’s house for love,
it would be utterly scorned
Song of Solomon 8:6-7