Wednesday, September 25, 2013

"... through this original sacrifice of Abraham a perspective opens up down the millennia"



The Eucharist: Heart of the Church


The Wellspring of Life from the Side of the Lord, Opened in Loving Sacrifice



by Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger/Pope Benedict XVI

....
In all ages, and among all peoples, the ultimate aim of men in their festivals has been to open the door of death. For as long as it does not touch on this question, a festival remains superficial, mere entertainment to anesthetize oneself. Death is the ultimate question, and wherever it is bracketed out there can be no real answer. Only when this question is answered can men truly celebrate and be free. The Christian feast, the Eucharist, plumbs the very depths of death. It is not just a matter of pious discourse and entertainment, of some kind of religious beautification, spreading a pious gloss on the world; it plumbs the very depths of existence, which it calls death, and strikes out an upward path to life, the life that overcomes death. And in this way the meaning of what we are trying to reflect on, in this meditation, becomes clear, what the tradition sums up in this sentence: The Eucharist is a sacrifice, the presentation of Jesus Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross.
 
Whenever we hear these words, inhibitions arise within us, and in all ages it has always been so. The question arises: When we talk about sacrifice, do we not do so on the basis of an unworthy picture of God, or at least a naive one? Does this not assume that we men should and could give something to God? Does this not show that we think of ourselves as equal partners with God, so to speak, who could barter one thing for another with Him: we give Him something so that He will give us something? Is this not to misapprehend the greatness of God, who has no need of our gifts, because He Himself is the giver of all gifts?
 
But, on the other hand, the question certainly does remain: Are we not all of us in debt to God, indeed, not merely debtors to Him but offenders against Him, since we are no longer simply in the position of owing Him our life and our existence but have now become guilty of offenses against Him? We cannot give Him anything, and in spite of that we cannot even simply assume that He will regard our guilt as being of no weight, that He will not take it seriously, that He will look on man as just a game, a toy.
 
It is to this very question that the Eucharist offers us an answer.
 
First of all, it says this to us: God Himself gives to us, that we may give in turn. The initiative in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ comes from God. In the first place it is He Himself who comes down to us: “God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son” (Jn 3:16). Christ is not in the first instance a gift we men bring to an angry God; rather, the fact that He is there at all, living, suffering, loving, is the work of God’s love. He is the condescension of merciful love, who bows down to us; for us the Lord becomes a slave, as we saw in the previous meditation.
 
It is in this sense that, in the Second Letter to the Corinthians, we find the words in which grace calls out to us: “Be reconciled to God” (II Cor 5:20). Although we started the quarrel, although it is not God who owes us anything, but we Him, He comes to meet us, and in Christ He begs, as it were, for reconciliation. He brings to be in reality what the Lord is talking about in the story of the gifts in the Temple, where He says: “If you are offering your gift at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift” (Mt 5:23f). God, in Christ, has trodden this path before us; He has set out to meet us, His unreconciled children — He has left the temple of His glory and has gone out to reconcile us.
 
Yet we can already see the same thing if we look back to the beginning of the history of faith. Abraham, in the end, does not sacrifice anything he has prepared himself but offers the ram (the lamb) that has been offered to him by God. Thus, through this original sacrifice of Abraham a perspective opens up down the millennia; this lamb in the brambles that God gives him, so that he may offer it, is the first herald of that Lamb, Jesus Christ, who carries the crown of thorns of our guilt, who has come into the thorn bush of world history in order to give us something that we may give.
 
Anyone who correctly comprehends the story of Abraham cannot come to the same conclusion as Tilman Moser in his strange and dreadful book Poisoned by God; Moser reads here the evidence for a God who is as dreadful as poison, making our whole life bitter.3
 
Even when Abraham was still on his way, and as yet knew nothing of the mystery of the ram, he was able to say to Isaac, with trust in his heart: Deus providebit — God will take care of us. Because he knew this God, therefore, even in the dark night of his incomprehension he knew that He is a loving God; therefore, even then, when he found he could understand nothing, he could put his trust in Him and could know that the very one who seemed to be oppressing him truly loved him even then.
 
Only in thus going onward, so that his heart was opened up, so that he entered the abyss of trust and, in the dark night of the uncomprehended God, dared keep company with him, did he thereby become capable of accepting the ram, of understanding the God who gives to us that we may give. This Abraham, in any case, has something to say to all of us.
 
If we are only looking on from outside, if we only let God’s action wash over us from without and only insofar as it is directed toward us, then we will soon come to see God as a tyrant who plays about with the world. But the more we keep Him company, the more we trust in Him in the dark night of the uncomprehended God, the more we will become aware that that very God who seems to be tormenting us is the one who truly loves us, the one we can trust without reserve. The deeper we go down into the dark night of the uncomprehended God and trust in Him, the more we will discover Him and will find the love and the freedom that will carry us through any and every night.
....

Taken from: http://www.adoremus.org/0913Ratzinger.html

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Noah and Herakles (Nimrod)



Re our post:

Herakles (Nimrod) Threatens Nereus (Noah)
 

John R. Salverda has commented:
 


Dear Damien,

Here is a remark on the Noah and Nimrod as Nereus and Herakles post, it was too long for a regular comment:

OK, there may have been some "Nimrod" in Herakles. There was certainly some Gilgamesh in him. "The story of Heracles was an early variant of the Babylonian Gilgamesh epic which reached Greece by way of Phoenicia. Gilgamesh has Enkidu for his beloved comrade, Heracles has Iolaus. Gilgamesh is undone by his love for the goddess Ishtar, Heracles by his love for Deianeira. Both are of divine parentage. Both harrow Hell. Both kill lions and overcome divine bulls; and when sailing to the Western Isle Heracles, like Gilgamesh, uses his garment for a sail. Heracles finds the magic herb of immortality as Gilgamesh does, and is similarly connected with the progress of the sun around the Zodiac." (the quote is from Robert Graves "The Greek Myths"). And I'm certainly not opposed to connecting Nereus with Noah. Many ancient "sea gods" can probably be traced back to Noah. Including the Philistine god Dagon, a form of Enki. Which leads me back to the old standby identification with Herakles, Samson. The Philistine fish god was the famous nemesis of Samson, and this enmity is, in my view, also a very likely origin for the icon of Heracles confronting the Merman. Furthermore, many of the enemies of Heracles are characterized as the "son of Poseidon" another famous god of the sea and likely candidate for identification with Dagon.
The story of the death of Samson, seems to occur in the Greek myth of Heracles, in more than one place. Samson, of course, was led a captive to the temple of Dagon where he pushed apart the pillars, killing all who were present. Heracles has the story of Busiris, a son of Poseidon, who tries to offer him up in a temple Herakles summons up his strength and kills the thousands who were there as attendees. Herodotus tells us - which he himself did not believe possible; “The Greeks tell many tales without due investigation, and among them the following silly fable respecting Hercules:- Hercules, they say, went once to Egypt, and there the inhabitants took him, and putting a chaplet on his head, led him out in solemn procession, intending to offer him as a sacrifice to Zeus. For a while he submitted quietly; but when they led him up to the altar and began the ceremonies, he put forth his strength and slew them all. ... Besides this, how is it in nature possible that Heracles, being one person only and moreover a man (as they assert), should slay many myriads?" (“Histories” Book II, p. 45). In this story the land of "Egypt" is plausibly a corruption for the land of "Jacob" and Heracles is Samson.
The story of pushing upon the pillars was also known to the Greeks as a story of Hercules; "But since we have mentioned the pillars of Heracles, we deem it to be appropriate to set forth the facts concerning them. When Heracles arrived at the farthest points of the continents of Libya and Europe which lie upon the ocean, he decided to set up these pillars to commemorate his campaign. And since he wished to leave upon the ocean a monument which would be had in everlasting remembrance, he built out both the promontories, they say, to a great distance; consequently, whereas before that time a great space had stood between them, he now narrowed the passage, in order that by making it shallow and narrow he might prevent the great sea-monsters from passing out of the ocean into the inner sea, and that at the same time the fame of their builder might be held in everlasting remembrance by reason of the magnitude of the structures. Some authorities, however, say just the opposite, namely, that the two continents were originally joined and that he cult a passage between them, and that by opening the passage he brought it about that the ocean was mingled with our sea. On this question, however, it will be possible for every man to think as he may please." (Diodorus Siculus, "Library of History" 4. 18. 4,5). Notice how Diodorus gives Herakles the motivation of protecting us from sea-monsters (again Dagon?) in his manipulation of the pillars.
For all the images of Heracles vs. Nereus, there is very little story about it. But, of what story there is, I must admit that it is very reminiscent of the story of Gilgamesh; "Herakles took hold of him as he lay sleeping, and bound him fast as Nereus changed himself into all sorts of shapes; he did not let him loose until Nereus told him where the apples and the Hesperides were." (Apollodorus, The Library 2. 114). Take note that Herakles like Gilgamesh confronts Nereus as Ut-Napishtim in order to find a way to Hesperidies as Eden.
Now, I do realize that there is a large school of thought that identifies Gilgamesh with Nimrod. However, I am unaware of any legends in which Nimrod confronted Noah.
 
-John R. Salverda

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Herakles (Nimrod) Threatens Nereus (Noah)


Taken from: http://www.theparthenoncode.com/features/37NoahsPartIII.htm

....

HERAKLES/NIMROD THREATENS NEREUS/NOAH, BRINGS HIS RULE TO A HALT, AND PUSHES HIM OUT OF THE WAY
PLUS: WHAT THE REBEL HERAKLES—NIMROD—GILGAMESH IS AFTER, AND WHAT HE FEARS


Now we’re going to take a look at how Greek vase-painters pitted Herakles/Nimrod against Nereus/Noah in various scenes to depict the takeover of Zeus-religion—the Greeks’ contrary, man-centered religious outlook.

In the above scene, Herakles/Nimrod threatens Nereus/Noah with his club. It’s as if Herakles is saying, “Stay out of the way, Noah, or you’ll get some of this.” Note the serpent attached to Herakles’ belt in the back. The desire to get back to the serpent’s enlightenment is literally “behind” what is going on here.

In the above vase-scene, Nereus/Noah is headed somewhere, but Herakles/Nimrod, who leads the rebellion against his rule, surprises him from behind, making him turn his head. Herakles is literally “strong-arming” Nereus/Noah. Herakles grabs the wrist that holds the scepter, because that is what this is about: taking Noah’s authority and putting a stop to his rule.

In this larger view of the same vase-scene, it looks as if Herakles/Nimrod is saying to Noah as he grabs him from behind, “Hey, where do you think you’re going? It’s over for you. I’m in charge now.”

The scene on this black-figure cup expresses the same theme in a different way. Herakles/Nimrod comes from behind Nereus/Noah and brings his momentum to a halt. Notice how Herakles/Nimrod is leaning back and using his feet for brakes. He’s putting a stop to Noah’s rule. Poseidon, a “brother” of Zeus, advances. He will take over—as Nereus/Noah is stopped and pushed out of the picture. Note that Poseidon now has the trident, once an attribute of Nereus/Noah.

Here we see Nereus/Noah depicted as an old man carrying a trident, a symbol usurped by Poseidon, a “brother” of Zeus and son-in-law of Nereus (Poseidon married his daughter, Amphitrite) who replaced Nereus/Noah as Zeus-religion grew.

This polychrome relief from a small altar again carries the message that Herakles/Nimrod is bringing the momentum of Nereus/Noah to a stop. Herakles comes from behind and grabs Noah by his hair, figuratively bringing Noah and his rule to a halt.

In this scene, Herakles ushers an unresisting Nereus/Noah out of the way. Note again the serpent coiled into Herakles’ belt.

In this similar scene by a different artist, Herakles again pushes an unresisting Nereus/Noah out of the way.

In this scene, Herakles pushes Nereus/Noah out of the way, knocking loose the fish he held in his hand as a symbol of his authority as the one who brought humanity through the Flood. Herakles doesn’t care what Noah has done. His only concern is what he himself is going to do now. What does Herakles want? What is he after?

This ancient shield-band panel tells us what Herakles/Nimrod is after. On it, Noah is called “Halios Geron” meaning “The Salt-Sea Old Man.” He has a snake and a flame emanating from his head, telling us what Herakles is demanding to know—where he can find the enlightenment of the serpent.
Herakles could be saying to Noah, "You tell me where to find the enlightenment of the serpent or else!"

According to Greek “myth,” Nereus/Noah told Herakles where he could find the enlightenment of the serpent that the hero so desperately craved. That place, the serpent-entwined tree with its golden apples, symbolizing the serpent’s enlightenment, is depicted on the above vase. This is the ancient paradise called Eden in Genesis and the Garden of the Hesperides in Greek art (See Chapter 18 of TPC). The women represent the peace and pleasure of paradise. From left to right: Hygeia (Health), Chrysothemis (Golden Order), Asterope (Star Face), and Lipara (Shining Skin).

As we look further to the right in the scene, we see that Herakles has made it there. Of course, Herakles didn’t really get back to the ancient garden; it is a figurative artistic statement: the Greeks will not live under Noah and his God any longer, but will re-embrace the “enlightenment” of the ancient serpent, and live by the fruit of its tree. Zeus-religion celebrates the great change in the post-Flood religious paradigm. Noah and his God are out. The serpent and its enlightenment are back in. Humanity has decided this: man is now the measure of all things.

The eleventh and final tablet (pictured above) of the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Mespotamian hero (pictured above), tells the story of a Deluge very similar to the Genesis account of Noah’s Flood. In great fear of death and in search of the meaning of his life, Gilgamesh seeks after the one human believed to be immortal, Utnapishtim, survivor of the world-engulfing Flood. Utnapishtim is the Noah of Genesis and the Nereus of Greek religion. The hero Gilgamesh is the Nimrod of Genesis and the Herakles of Greek religion.
In Genesis 6:9, we read, "Noah is a just man." The ancient Greek poet Hesiod wrote in his Theogony, "And Sea begat Nereus, the eldest of his children, who is true and lies not: and men call him the Old Man because he is trusty and gentle and does not forget the laws of righteousness, but thinks just and kindly thoughts." Utnapishtim (ut nephis tam) in Shemitic/Hebrew means "a living beacon of righteousness."

Greek artists knew of the Epic of Gilgamesh, and they naturally expressed the hero’s fear of death and his demand for knowledge from Noah in terms of his Greek counterpart, Herakles. On the above vase, the hero clings to Nereus/Noah as he looks with dread over his shoulder at the monstrous figure, Kerberos, representing death and Herakles’s fear of it. Nereus/Noah gestures as if he is responding to the plea of Herakles/Nimrod. It appears that the vase-artist is depicting these very words of Gilgamesh from the epic: “Oh woe! What shall I do Utnapishtim? Where shall I go? The snatcher has taken hold of my flesh, in my bedroom, death dwells, and wherever I set my foot, there too is death.”

By the time Greek religion became systematized, Herakles/Nimrod/Gilgamesh had figuratively gotten back to the serpent’s enlightenment in the ancient garden, and overcome his great fear of death. On this reconstructed metope from the temple of Zeus at Olympia, we see that Herakles/Nimrod (pictured with his father, Hermes/Cush) now has Kerberos under control. There is no need for Herakles to fear death any longer: he has conquered the world on behalf of his ancestors in the way of Kain, and they have made him an immortal god as a reward for what he has done for them.
The 12 Labors of Herakles on the Temple of Zeus at Olympia chronicle and celebrate mankind's rebellion after the Flood.
CLICK HERE TO SEE THEM ALL RESTORED IN COLOR BY COMPUTER