Under the Fig Tree

There are two parallel questions that often arise in the practice of the awareness of the perpetual Presence of God: What do we know about ourselves? What does the Lord know about us? Self-discovery is a characteristic of the journey into union with God. Of prayer St. Teresa of Avila says, “Along this path of prayer, self knowledge and the thought of one’s sins is the bread with which all palates must be fed no matter how delicate they may be; they cannot be sustained without this bread. Self-knowledge is essential for spiritual growth and self-knowledge brings with it the discovery of our human limitations and the possibility of the knowledge of the overwhelming grace of God. The following passage from John 1:45-48 [ESV] gives some insight into the answers for these two questions. The story is from the call of Nathanael bar Tolmai, or son of Tolmai, that is Bartholomew.

44 Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. 45 Philip found Nathanael and said to him, "We have found him of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph." 46 Nathanael said to him, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" Philip said to him, "Come and see." 47 Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him and said of him, "Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!" 48 Nathanael said to him, "How do you know me?" Jesus answered him, "Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you." 49 Nathanael answered him, "Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!" 50 Jesus answered him, "Because I said to you, 'I saw you under the fig tree,' do you believe? You will see greater things than these." 51 And he said to him, "Truly, truly, I say to you, you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man."

The story follows along the natural lines of personal relationships. Philip, has just responded to Jesus call, “Follow me”(John 1:43). He takes the next logical step and in his excitement goes and finds his friend Nathanael. Nathanael is from the small town of Cana in Galilee, near enough to Nazareth (8 miles) to make it likely that his remark about that equally small town was probably more natural skepticism based on knowledge, than insult. To place the call of Nathanael in its proper context we must remember that the first miraculous sign recorded in the Gospel of John is at the wedding in Cana in the very next chapter. It is very likely that the bride and groom were friends of Nathanael’s, rather than friends of Jesus’ family (John 2:2). The first spread of the good news of the kingdom of God follows the web of natural relationships and illustrates one of the kingdom principles of evangelism. A brief look backward in the Gospel of John reveals John the Baptizer telling Andrew and John, and Andrew telling Peter. Then Jesus calls Philip who tells Nathanael, and Jesus and his new disciples are then invited to attend a wedding in Nathanael’s hometown.

The key to the passage is in verses 47 and 48. As Nathanael comes to meet Jesus, Jesus says to him, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!” Nathanael asks, “How do you know me?” Jesus replies, “Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.”

What I think has happened is this. In the Old Testament the fig tree is regarded as a place of shelter and safety, “But everyone shall sit under his vine and under his fig tree, and no one shall make them afraid” (Micah 4:4). Nathanael has been sitting under his fig tree, meditating in his place of shelter and privacy. From Jesus remark, “an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit,” it is clear to Nathanael that Jesus has seen and heard his private meditation. Like the Psalmist he cries out, “1 O LORD, you have searched me and known me! 2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. 3 You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways (Psalm 139:1-3 ESV), and Nathanael says, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel” (John 1:48 ESV).

Further it is evident that Jesus has accepted him on the level on which he presented himself to God in his meditation. From the phrase “in whom there is no deceit,” it is even possible the Nathanael was meditating on Psalm 32 [ESV].

1 Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,
whose sin is covered.
2 Blessed is the man against whom the LORD counts no iniquity,
and in whose spirit there is no deceit.
3 For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away
through my groaning all day long.
4 For day and night your hand was heavy upon me;
my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer. Selah
5 I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity;
I said, "I will confess my transgressions to the LORD,"
and you forgave the iniquity of my sin.

That is a fitting meditation for one who has faced himself, or herself, and who has taken some steps down the road to self-knowledge. It is a bold thing to say to God, “Lord you know me. I am one in whom there is no deceit.” He knows the secret of Teresa of Avila, “Once a soul sees that it is now submissive and understands clearly that it has nothing good of itself and is aware both of being ashamed before so great a King and of repaying so little of the great amount it owes Him—what need is there to waste time here? We must go on to other things that the Lord places before us; and there is no reason to leave them aside, for His Majesty knows better than we what is fitting for us to eat.” Self-discovery and the discovery of the indwelling presence of God are spiritually inseparable. But having eaten of this bread we must move on to the rest of the meal.

Let me ask the question, “What do you know about yourself?” There are a variety of ways of answering that question. Some know nothing of themselves, but remain hidden by choice and denial. That is a dangerous and fatal ignorance. Others know themselves as frail and sinful, but not as forgiven. That is a depressing and potentially terrifying knowledge. Others know themselves, as Nathanael seems to know himself. The words of Psalm 32 make this blessed state of self-knowledge clear.

1 Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,
whose sin is covered.
2 Blessed is the man against whom the LORD counts no iniquity,
and in whose spirit there is no deceit.

To know oneself as Nathanael and Jesus know Nathanael, is to know oneself as one forgiven, as one cleansed, as one to whom the Lord does not impute iniquity, as one who has been as frank with God as one knows how, as one in whose spirit there is no deceit. Accept yourself as forgiven, without recrimination, without fanfare, as one accepted by God. That self-knowledge is the foundation of the journey into the depths of the Presence of God.

Let me ask another question. What has been on your mind when you have been under your private fig tree with God? Note that I am presupposing that you both have a fig tree, and have taken time to be under your fig tree with God. There in that quiet place wherever it is, what has been on your mind?

I must acknowledge that in my humanity I am not always good company for myself. That is why it is helpful to begin my prayers under the fig tree with one of the offices or with meditation on a passage of Scripture. Left to my own devices I am not always kind to myself and I need to behold the assurance of guileless Nathanael and learn from him. I say to the Lord, “You see me under the fig tree, even as Jesus saw Nathanael. You see me. You forgive me. You accept me, even when I am having trouble forgiving and accepting myself. Help me accept myself, if only because You accept me.”

~ Dom Anselm +

Quotations from Teresa of Avila are from The Collected Works of St. Teresa of Avila, Vol. One, The Book of Her Life, (Washington: ICS Publications) 1987. p. 130

The Unitive Experience: A Personal Reflection

While I do not “feel” God all the time I acknowledge that when I turn my gaze toward Him most often His Presence comes rushing in. I have always attributed that to the experience of the Holy Spirit six weeks after my conversion. It was an experience of complete abandonment in the Presence of God. It came unsought, pure infused grace after a year of wrestling with purgation. Infused grace is that grace which comes as pure gift, poured on one seemingly without conscious preparation. Purgation is a season of self-discovery under the tutelage of the Holy Spirit and ends in penitence and confession.

The purgative stage was cyclical and I was through sorrow and the experience of guilt and alienation from God gradually led to such a place of self-awareness that I abandoned all and cast myself in utter trust on the mercy and love of God. The moment of surrender and final confession opened a door into an immediate sense of the Presence of God without guilt, and without recrimination.

I had no words for the deeper experience that came six weeks later. Eventually Charismatic theology and the words of Scripture would identify the experience as the Baptism with the Holy Spirit. Such an identification however falls short in understanding the essence of the encounter. An older theology would have understood it as an experience of being rapt in God that issued in a sense of being at unity with God, of oneness, a lostness in the enrapturing Presence that for those moments removed me from all awareness of my surroundings and held me tossed to and fro in the ocean of God’s boundless love. The circumstances are not as important as the event itself. It happened in the midst of a superficial community that was accepting at least that such things could and should happen. But the experience itself was intensely personal and removed me emotionally, spiritually, and it seemed physically from the community itself.

Basically such an experience is word based and perhaps even the result of acquired grace. For me the experience was preceded by avid and disciplined reading of the New Testament and by exposure to the psalms, particularly expressions like the old Scot’s Psalter tune for Psalm 42, “As pants the heart for cooling streams When heated in the chase, So longs my soul, O God, for Thee, And Thy refreshing grace.”

Some of the mystics would have identified it as an experience of initiatory grace. Initiatory grace is that grace we sometimes experience at the very beginning of our spiritual journey giving us a foretaste of spiritual delights and drawing us on into disciplines that prepare us for acquired grace. Although acquired grace is itself a gift, it is experientially the immersion in the Presence that comes in response to quiet discipline.

Certainly it was initiatory grace, but it marked me forever and left within me a spiritual and emotional receptor, a doorway for the Presence of God. It had nothing to do with worthiness. “I am not worthy that You should come under my roof, but speak the word only and Your servant shall be healed.” To my sorrow and occasional confusion I grieve that I am so slow in responding obedience, but I hasten to add that whatever obedience I have is responsive by nature. The experience left me with a sense of unity with God that fades and then is renewed in the ebb and flow of my experience of God’s love and grace in rhythm with my ongoing process of self-discovery and penitence. The experience of unity with God has also marked me with a willingness for abandonment with God. I would not want to be tempted to abandon the experience of the Presence which comes as pure gift, even in those times when on the surface it seems to be acquired grace.

I have had dark nights of the soul since then, some of them unsought, some blundered into. What I have learned is that God loves me, in tune, out of tune, at all times and delights to have me know that love. His love precedes and transcends my transformation. The issues of the human soul move very slowly and God will not await our timing but takes us to His bosom, as we are, in transition, in partial and sometimes inadequate, very inadequate states of sanctification. That is what the blood of Christ is for, cleansing and purifying even as it makes this union with God a possibility.

I am at a loss to describe the experience of His Presence. I feel enveloped. I would say I feel loved, but how does one feel loved? To be sure it is subjective, but nonetheless it is so persistent and sometimes so pervasive that it cannot be denied. It is Divine hands upon my shoulders, Divine breath breathed deeply in. It is comfort, peace, and at times physical warmth. It is more than subjective. It is an inner knowing, a receiving of the immanent God, “a golden breathable medium.” I relax into it and am still. I pick up the Scripture or my Psalter, or a book written by another child of God and feel the Presence spilling from the pages into my very soul. I pick up my pen and write, or write even on the computer knowing all the time that He is with me. I experience Him with the same clarity that I experience the others whom I love.

I acknowledge that it is not something that I have done although on another level I have allowed myself to thirst for Him and for His Presence. How should it by otherwise? The words of an old hymn come back, “I sought the Lord and afterward I knew He moved my soul to seeking Him seeking me.” At times I have hesitated. At other times I have drifted away. But, by grace, in the final analysis I respond to Him with the words of Peter, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

The White Witch and Christmas

No reader of C. S. Lewis could ignore his thorough understanding of the nature of evil. Certainly his classic warning at the beginning of the Screwtape Letters makes it very clear: “There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them. They themselves are equally pleased by both errors, and hale a materialist or a magician with the same delight.”

The Chronicles of Narnia plunge the reader into a wonderful fantasy of four children, Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy who enter the magical land of Narnia through the door of a wardrobe. Narnia is not without its perils. You might even say that the perils add spice to the story. In the first of the book, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, the White Witch stands as an archetypal figure of evil. At the outset of the adventure in Narnia, Mr. Tumnus the Faun tells Lucy that “it is she that has got all Narnia under her thumb. It’s she that makes it always winter. Always winter and never Christmas; think of that!”

The only one that can break the Witch’s evil spell is the great Lion Aslan. The name Aslan is a variant of Anselm and is derived from two older words meaning God is my Helm, or helmet. Aslan is the Son of the Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. On the Emperor’s scepter is written a deeper magic far beyond the magic of the White Witch, or for that matter far beyond the magic of Harry Potter and the realm of J .K. Rowling. The deeper magic says that when One gives His life in exchange for ours all the winter of our lives is reversed by His redemptive power. Aslan is Jesus, the true Son of the Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea.

With the arrival of Aslan, winter’s grip on Narnia is broken, and Father Christmas arrives with his wondrous gifts. Spring begins. Ice and snow melt. Flowers bloom and trees bud. Father Christmas? Yes, indeed. “On a sledge sat a person whom everyone knew the moment they set eyes on him. He was a huge man in a bright red robe (bright as holly-berries) with a hood that had fur inside it and a great white beard that fell like a foamy waterfall over his chest.” Lewis goes on to explain that “though you see people of his sort only in Narnia, you see pictures of them and hear them talked about even in our world—the world on this side of the wardrobe door. But when you see them in Narnia it is rather different. Some of the pictures of Father Christmas in our world make him look only funny and jolly. But now that the children actually stood looking at him they didn’t find it quite like that. He was so big and so glad, and so real, that they all became quite still. They felt very glad, but also solemn.”

But what of our world, on the other side of the wardrobe? The White Witch has been driven from Narnia and escaped through the wardrobe into our world, where so often it threatens to be winter and never Christmas. Christmas is overlaid with commercialism and false expectations and we struggle to keep the birth of the true Aslan at the heart of Christmas. It is about Jesus! When He comes the winter of our discontent is broken and the spring of rebirth arrives. The White Witch and Winter hate the celebration of the birth of the Christ Child and will do all in their power to destroy its true meaning. Somehow the White Witch has even managed set the image of Father Christmas over against the birth of the Christ Child, not realizing that the true Saint Nicholas was always a servant of the Lord who redeemed him, and he gives his gifts out of gratitude for the Gift that is greater than all.

In the bleak midwinter, when it’s winter, come and kneel before the Christ Child at His altar in your church. Defy the winter and kneel in humble adoration. Christ Jesus is God’s Gift to you! Once more open your heart and invite him in, that all the winter of your life might once more be turned to spring.

The Watchman

“Anyone appointed to be a watchman for the people must stand on a height for all his life to help them by his foresight.” (Gregory the Great, “A Homily on Ezekiel.” The Liturgy of the Hours, IV, pp. 1365, 1366.)

“I will walk in the presence of the Lord * in the land of the living.” (Psalm 116:8 BCP)

The watchman on the height is called to walk in the presence of the Lord. Walking in the presence of the Lord, both in Hebrew and Greek, literally means to walk before the face of God. The expression is concrete and not abstract. Here is God! His face is here! The “soles of his feet” stand on the same small piece of ground as the soles of our feet. “Son of man, this is the place of my throne and the place of the soles of my feet, where I will dwell in the midst of the people of Israel forever” (Ezekiel 43:7 ESV). There is an immediacy in the concept of the presence of the Lord that extends beyond the generality of immaterial spiritualized “presence.” He is literally here, physically here though unseen. Our hearts cry out “Incarnate Deity we adore you, and ‘we walk before your face in the land of the living’” (Psalm 116:9). The word for land is ‘erets, as in ‘erets Yisra’el, the land of Israel, the geographical, concrete, physical land of Israel. We walk our walk in physical reality before His face in the land of the living, the half-living and the spiritually dead. The latter, the golem (Gollum?)[i], the spiritual zombies of this world, who, fleeing from before the face of God and His revivifying Spirit, have been filled with that other spirit who is both malign and destructive. The land of the living is the place of spiritual warfare, the heavenly places manifest on earth. “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12 ESV).

The watchman must stand on a height for all of his life. There is no time off from the call to stand on the height. There is no call to the heights for one day only, or for certain holy days only. It is a call for all days. Even the Sabbath day of rest was not an escape from the presence of God, but a unique call to spend that time resting on the heights before the face of God in holy adoration, and in joyful celebration before Him. A day off is not a day off from God. There is no rest and relaxation away from the presence of the Lord. Adolescents, in their immaturity, fancy that there is some liberty, some magical freedom that is not bound by law. True liberty, and true rest, is found in holy servanthood. In holy servanthood is the place of freedom from servitude to the world. There, on the heights, in His presence, is the place where we find rest from ourselves. Where are we to find those heights? Rising very early in the morning, while it is still dark, we depart and go out to a desolate place, and there, with Him, Who is our Intercessor, we pray (Mark 1:35). Under our own fig tree (John 1:48), in our holy place, we pray early and often and continually without interruption. As watchmen we are called to stand on the height all of our lives in order that we may help the children of God by the clear sight that comes from the unobstructed view from that holy place of advantage. “The soul grows by its constant participation in that which transcends it” (Gregory of Nyssa), and in His light we see light (Psalm 36:9). From that vantage point, morning by morning (Isaiah 50:4), we see as He sees, and by grace we have the mind of Christ (I Corinthians 2:16).

The Psalmist says, “I will walk before the face of God.” God walks with us and our hearts ardently desire not just to walk “before” Him, but to walk with Him, hand in hand grasping His promise “I will never leave you, nor forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5). Our hearts yearn to walk so consistently with Him that we might hear Him say of us, “a man after my own heart, who will do all my will” (Acts 13:23b ESV). The emphasis is not on emoting some inner surrender, but on action: “a man who will do all my will.” Yet our humanity, warped like a treacherous bow, betrays us (Ps. 78:57). That is precisely what Gregory wrestles with in his homily. He says, “I do not stand on the mountain of action, but lie down in the valley of weakness.” But Gregory hears the challenge: “Anyone appointed to be a watchman for the people must stand on a height for all his life to help them by his foresight.” The watchman on the height is called to walk before the face of God, not as a man of perfection, but with a frailty born of realistic humility, and with the power that flows most clearly through earthen vessels that accept the fact that they are earthen.

How do we reconcile these two realities? Gregory says “Truly the all-powerful Creator and Redeemer of mankind can give me, in spite of my weakness, a higher life and effective speech; because I love him, I do not spare myself in speaking of him.” Our love for Him, springing from His incredible love for us, provides the vehicle for the unction, the anointing, of the Holy Spirit, who speaks in our hearts, before speaking through us; “Son of man, eat whatever you find here. Eat this scroll, and go, speak to the house of Israel” (Ezekiel 3:1). We are called to stand with Him on the holy mountain (Mark 1:35), in the place of prayer, in the place of dialogue with God, in the place of listening and personal transformation. “We ourselves heard this very voice borne from heaven, for we were with him on the holy mountain” (2 Peter 1:18). From that place we are called to proclaim the wonders of His grace and love, to be watchmen, for we have seen for ourselves the unmerited grace, the steadfast love of God, the cloud of the glory of the Lord, and in seeing we are transfigured having become partakers of the divine nature (1 Peter 1:4). We walk before His face, in His presence, and we proclaim that He came down to live in the midst of men, to die for the warped bow, and to rise again.

Do not make the mistake of presuming that the call to be a watchman is a call belonging only to some high and mystical priestly class. No Christian should slough off the call to be a watchman lightly. That would be to misunderstand the true nature of the Church. “You yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (I Peter 2:5). You also are called, child of God, whoever you are, to stand before God on the heights. You are called and appointed to be a watchman for the people. It is you who must stand on a height all your life to help the people by the clarity of your sight. To you is given the commandment, go and “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:18-20). There is an old hymn that tells the story, “Let the lower lights be burning, send a gleam across the wave. Some poor fainting struggling seaman, you may rescue, you may save.” You are the watchman. Stand on the heights, and let your light shine.

~ Dom Anselm +

[i] Gollum is the ruined hobbit in Tolkien’s works. He has been transformed, nay deformed by his lust for the ring of power. Was Adler right? Is the will to power the basic driving motive for human life? In another search for power, the Golem [pronounced goilem] is in Jewish myth “a creature fashioned from clay and brought to life by kabbalistic spells who ultimately threatens the very people he was intended to serve… The most famous golem narrative involves Rabbi Judah Loew the Maharal of Prague, a 16th century rabbi. He is reported to have created a golem to defend the Prague ghetto of Josefov from Anti-Semitic attacks… According to the legend, the Golem could be made of clay from the banks of the Vltava river in Prague. Following the prescribed rituals, the Rabbi built the Golem and made him come to life by reciting special incantations in Hebrew. As Rabbi Loew's Golem grew bigger, he also became more violent and started killing people and spreading fear. Rabbi Loew was promised that the violence against the Jews would stop if the Golem was destroyed. The Rabbi agreed. To destroy the Golem, he rubbed out the first letter of the word "emet" from the golem's forehead to make the Hebrew word "met", meaning death. (According to legend, the Golem of Prague's remains are stored in a coffin in the attic of the Altneuschul in Prague, and it can be summoned again if needed.) The existence of a golem is sometimes a mixed blessing. Golems are not intelligent - if commanded to perform a task, they will take the instructions perfectly literally” (Wikipedia). For a more contemporary Golem see the movie Shaun of the Dead, and the character Ed. At the end of the movie Ed has become a zombie and is chained in the shed behind Shaun’s house where he is destined to play video games for the rest of his life, such as it is, which is all he was really doing anyway besides going to the pub.