Naked
Genesis 2:4-25
25 They were both naked, the man and his wife,
and they were not ashamed.
Hebrews 1:1-14
3 This Son is the radiance of the Sh’khinah, the very expression of
God’s essence, upholding all that exists by his powerful word;
John 1:1-18
17 For the Torah was given through Moshe; grace and truth came through
Yeshua the Messiah.
At the Hermitage, lately we’ve been talking about
vulnerability. Off we go to the dictionary—Vulnerable
adjective 1. capable of or susceptible to being wounded
or hurt, as by a weapon: a vulnerable part of the body. 2. open to moral
attack, criticism, temptation, etc.: an argument vulnerable to refutation; He
is vulnerable to bribery. 3. (of a place) open to assault; difficult to defend:
a vulnerable bridge.
The first thing I noticed was that all the definitions seem
to relate to a state of hostility; war; attack and defense. (Except for the
bridge one, which I left out, mostly because I’m pretty sure Jesus didn’t play
bridge.)
On to synonyms for vulnerability: susceptibility, weakness, insecurity, instability, openness,
defenselessness, and uncertainty, to name a few.
None of the dictionary definitions, or synonyms, address any
of the positive aspects of being vulnerable. Still, there is a strong cultural
current that is ‘currently’ moving (Pun
intended, sorry!) in the direction of vulnerability as a positive thing. There
is even a Ted Talk on “The Power of Vulnerability,” which is an oxymoron if I
ever heard one.
Still, look at the scriptural themes that echo that idea. ‘You must die to live.’ The last shall be
first.’ ‘The greatest among you will be the servant of all.’ ‘He emptied
himself, taking the form of a slave.’ ‘His power was brought to perfection in
weakness.’
So I think it’s fair to say weakness might not be a bad
thing. So, now I’ve gone the long way round to get to the word “Naked.” The
Greek word is: gymnotēs, from gymnos—“naked.”
(I thought it was cool that the word gymnasium means “a place (or
school) for naked exercise.”)
What grabbed me
first in today’s readings was the phrase, “naked and not ashamed.” I’m fairly
sure that the Hebrew word “naked” in Genesis meant nothing more than “physically
unclothed,” but in the New Testament, a word that means the same thing: ‘physically
naked’, is often deliberately used to mean a type of spiritual nakedness, with the
intention of recommending such nakedness as consistent with Christian practice.
So here in Genesis we
have a picture of innocence and purity exemplified by unashamed nakedness. In
Hebrews we have a picture of a human being who is literally “the radiance of
God,” as well as “the expression of God’s essence.” In John we have a stern
reminder that the Law was given through Moses, not through the Messiah;
instead, the gift given to us through the Anointed One was “grace and truth.” I
can’t help but think that this is an admonition against the dangers of putting Law
before Love. (When I was teaching Karate I often rebuked my students for what I
called “making up rules.” It’s a human foible, the habit of deciding that
things should be a certain way, and from that point on, refusing to consider
other options, as well as enacting a kind of moral coercion to enforce such
purely idiosyncratic rules, without ever observing that those very same rules
were self-generated.)
I also noticed that
the words of the Gospel were not “given by,” but “given through.” It would seem
that this is a defining characteristic of God’s gifts ---God’s power, God’s
Spirit, God’s Light—all are gifts given through human agency. Always. As
my grandmother used to say, “No ifs, ands or buts about it!”
In our discussion
about ‘vulnerability’ we noted that the difficulty of practicing the same (especially
for the military veterans whom my fellow resident at the Hermitage serves) is that
of getting out of the context of combat, battle and war. It’s a significant
challenge, to change the metaphor enough to allow our unconscious cultural assumptions
to stop interfering with our acceptance of the idea. One of the alternatives to
the word “vulnerability” that we came up with was, “trust.” That didn’t quite
fit the bill, but came a little closer to the constructive meaning we wanted to
imply. The root of vulnerable comes from the Latin word for “wound.” It
occurred to me that what we are really after is the sort of honesty that is comfortable
with being breakable.
I felt a pull to
look in the Tao te Ching and found this from Ursula LeGuin’s English version:
“What seeks to shrink
must first have grown;
what seeks weakness
surely was strong.
What seeks its ruin
must first have risen;
what seeks to take
has surely given.
This is called the small dark light:
the soft, the weak prevail
over the hard, the strong.”
Comments
Post a Comment