Readers of the New Testament are familiar with St. Paul’s description
of Christ as the “Second Adam.” It is an example of the frequent
Apostolic use of an allegoric reading of the Old Testament (I am using
“allegory” in its broadest sense – including typology and other forms).
Christ Himself had stated that He was the meaning of the Old
Testament (John 5:39). Within the Gospels Christ identifies His own
death and resurrection with the Prophet Jonah’s journey in the belly of
the fish. He likens His crucifixion to the serpent raised on a staff by
which Moses healed the people of Israel. Without the allegorical use of
the Old Testament – much of the material in the gospels and the rest of
the New Testament would be unintelligible.
Orthodox Christians are very accustomed to this manner of handling
Scripture – the hymnography (largely written during the Patristic
period) of the Church’s liturgical life is utterly permeated by such a
use of allegory. The connections between New Testament and Old – between
dogma and the allegory of Scriptural imagery is found in almost every
verse offered within a service. Those who are not familiar with the
Eastern liturgical life are unaware of this rich Christian heritage and
of its deep doctrinal piety and significance.
In the Feast of the Holy Cross, the hymnography at one point makes
the statement, “The Tree heals the Tree.” It is one of the marvelous
commentaries on the life of grace and its relationship to the human
predicament. It refers to the relationship between the Cross of Christ
and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. The latter was the
source of the fruit that Adam and Eve consumed that was the source of
their fall from grace. The “Tree that heals” is none other than the
Cross of Christ.
I am struck particularly by this treatment of Biblical imagery. The meditation does not say that the Cross destroys the tree whose fruit, along with our disobedience, brought the human tragedy. The Tree heals the Tree. In the same manner, the Kingdom of God does not destroy creation – it makes it whole.
There is a tendency within our lives to view failure and disasters
(whether self-inflicted or otherwise) as deep tragedies that derail our
lives and the world around us. Our heart becomes confused when the
thought of “if only” takes up residence. But the Tree heals the Tree. In
God, nothing is wasted.
It is the spiritual habit of the Church’s liturgical life to see the
story of Christ in everything. Every story involving wood or a tree
seems to find its way into the hymnography of the Cross. The same is
true for many other images. I believe this way of reading Scripture is
also a key to the Christian life. Our hearts are such that they
generally do not see the Kingdom of God – we see only the tree and our
disobedience. But Christ Himself became sin that we might become the
righteousness of God (2 Cor. 5:21). He took our life upon Himself that
He might bestow His own life upon us. Thus Christ has entered all things
that He might make all things new. Nothing is wasted.
September 14, The Universal Exaltation of the Precious and Life-Giving Cross
