The story of Phinehas the grandson of Aaron is chilling. In Psalm 106:30 we are told that “Phinehas stood up and intervened, and the plague was stayed.” How Phinehas intervened is another matter. In Numbers 25:6-8 an Israelite named Zimri, the son of a Simeonite chieftain takes a Midianite women into the family tent to lie with her in full view of the congregation which is weeping in repentance over God’s judgment on them in the matter of the adulterous Baal of Peor. The tale of the intervention by Phinehas is bloodthirsty,
“When Phinehas the son of Eleazar, son of Aaron the priest, saw it, he rose
and left the congregation and took a spear in his hand and went after the man of Israel
into the chamber and pierced both of them, the man of Israel and the woman
through her belly.”
There are times in life when
there can be no equivocation, but only firm action, uncomfortable or not.
On
the other side of the coin is the account of Theresa of Avila who has an
unusual vision of an angel with a beautiful face, so beautiful that his face
seemed aflame. She says:
“I saw in his hands a large golden
spear and at the end of the iron tip there appeared to be a little fire. It seemed to me this angel plunged the spear
several times into my heart and that it reached deep with me. When he drew it out, I thought he was
carrying off with him the deepest part of me; and he left me all on fire with
great love of God. The pain was so great
it made me moan, and the sweetness this greatest pain caused me was so
superabundant that there is no desire capable of taking it away; nor is the
soul content with less than God.[1] p. 252
There is a stark contrast between
the two spears, one a spear of divine judgment, the other a spear of divine
love, yet they are one spear. Divine
Love pierces the soul putting to death all that is deathly within us, and at
the same time Divine Love pierces us with unimaginable love, a love so sharp
and incisive that it reaches deep within us leaving us transfixed with a divine
sweetness.
The
twofold nature of the spear draws its power from the act of divine redemption
when the Christ is wounded for our transgressions and pierced for our
iniquities. Upon the Christ is the
chastisement that brings us peace. On
that fateful day, the soldiers come to the three crucified men, break the legs
of the first, then of the second. Then
coming to Jesus they see that he is already dead. Then one of the Roman soldiers, (Mallory
tells us that his name is Longius) takes his spear and pierces the side of
Jesus, at once there comes out blood and water.
Sanguis
Christi, inebria me.
John
who is a witness reports this, he knows that it is true, and he tells us that
we might believe.
The
Spear of Longius, along with the Holy Grail, is transported to ancient Britain
by Joseph of Arimathea and the spear is placed on a golden table with silver
legs in a richly appointed room of the castle of King Pellam. King Pellam’s brother, the evil knight Garlon
rides invisibly with the thunder of unseen hooves; his invisible lance thrusts
his victim through the body, occasionally leaving behind the broken truncheon,
now visible, piercing the body, as the traitor knight Garlon rides off to seek
another victim. Balin at the feast in
the castle recognizes Garlon, who is arrogant and insulting, and slays him
cleaving his head from his body.
King
Pellam seeking vengeance catches up a grim weapon and smites eagerly at
Balin. Balin blocks the stroke with his
sword which shatters leaving Balin weaponless.
He runs from room to room through the castle seeking a weapon with the
murderous Pellam close behind. At last
he enters a richly appointed chamber wherein he finds a golden table with
silver legs, and upon the table a wondrous spear marvellously wrought, not
knowing that this is the spear of Longius with which the Christ was
pierced. Taking up the spear Balin strikes
King Pellam with the Dolorous Stroke.
King Pellam falls down in a swoon, and the castle roof and walls break
and fall around them. King Pellam, a kin
of Joseph of Arimathea, lies many years sore wounded until Galahad comes to
heal him. Balin is rescued from the ruin by Merlin and departs travelling
through a ruined land where many are slain as a result of that dolorous
stroke. He has caused great doom but
vengeance will fall on him at last.
There
is justice in the story. Balin’s
execution of Garlon is both heroic and correct, he did what a worthy knight
ought to do. King Pellam’s wrath is
understandable but it is untempered by the knowledge of his brother’s murderous
deeds, and in wrath he pursues a weaponless man in order to kill him. Balin is right to defend himself, and he is
right to smite King Pellam. The problem
lies in the handling of the spear of Longius with which the heart of the Christ
is pierced. There is ultimately no
excuse for the misuse of holy things, witting or unwitting. Balin himself is a man of wrath destined to kill
his own brother who in the same encounter slays Balin. Right, or not, his hot temper and internal
violence leave him vulnerable and his just slaying of Garlon in a fit of temper
opens the gateway leading to an act of unwitting sacrilege.
Under
all of these stories of the Golden Spear, is the spear that wounds the heart of
St. Theresa of Avila, and the hearts of all those who will be both reverent and
tender before our Lord, Jesus, whose heart was pierced that we might enter in.
[1] The Collected Works of St. Teresa of Avila, Vol. One, The Book
of Her Life, (Washington: ICS Publications) 1987, p. 252
[1] The Collected Works of St. Teresa of Avila, Vol. One, The Book
of Her Life, (Washington: ICS Publications) 1987, p. 252
No comments:
Post a Comment