The Harrowing of Hell
by George Mackay Brown
He went down the first step.
His lantern shone like the morning star.
Down and round he went
Clothed in his five wounds.
Solomon whose coat was like daffodils
Came out of the shadows.
He kissed Wisdom there, on the second step.
The boy whose mouth had been filled with harp-songs,
The shepherd king
Gave, on the third step, his purest cry.
At the root of the Tree of Man, an urn
With dust of apple-blossom.
Joseph, harvest-dreamer, counsellor of pharaohs
Stood on the fourth step.
He blessed the lingering Bread of Life.
He who had wrestled with an angel,
The third of the chosen,
Hailed the King of Angels on the fifth step.
Abel with his flutes and fleeces
Who bore the first wound
Came to the sixth step with his pastorals.
On the seventh step down
The tall primal dust
Turned with a cry from digging and delving.
Tomorrow the Son of Man will walk in a garden
Through drifts of apple-blossom.
by George Mackay Brown
He went down the first step.
His lantern shone like the morning star.
Down and round he went
Clothed in his five wounds.
Solomon whose coat was like daffodils
Came out of the shadows.
He kissed Wisdom there, on the second step.
The boy whose mouth had been filled with harp-songs,
The shepherd king
Gave, on the third step, his purest cry.
At the root of the Tree of Man, an urn
With dust of apple-blossom.
Joseph, harvest-dreamer, counsellor of pharaohs
Stood on the fourth step.
He blessed the lingering Bread of Life.
He who had wrestled with an angel,
The third of the chosen,
Hailed the King of Angels on the fifth step.
Abel with his flutes and fleeces
Who bore the first wound
Came to the sixth step with his pastorals.
On the seventh step down
The tall primal dust
Turned with a cry from digging and delving.
Tomorrow the Son of Man will walk in a garden
Through drifts of apple-blossom.
Matthew 27
As we enter this strange
liminal space of Passiontide/Holy Week/Easter I always feel only poetry and
music can do justice to what we are about to witness. I already drew on George
Mackay Brown, a favourite of mine, earlier in the year, and it is a joy to re-read
the beautiful ‘Harrowing of Hell’ that could serve as a meditation for the
whole of Holy Week. As I noted a few weeks ago, this year we are fortunate that
Western and Orthodox Easters both coincide so we can have the joy of
celebrating the mysteries together... joined in our common heritage. The ikon
above is from St Saviour in Chora, one of the finest remaining Byzantine series
of frescoes in Constantinople/Istanbul and depicts that extraordinary moment
where Christ, like some celestial fireman, descends into the underworld to pull
out our ancestors from the wreakage of darkness. Surrounded by the instruments
of torture that have kept us in darkness he kicks down the doors of the
underworld to lead us into the light. We stand then at that moment poised
between dark and light, summer and winter, death and life, the Old Law and the
New Law. Of course, in mythological tradition these liminal spaces are the most
dangerous, here we can be severely hurt. So as we enter this space prayerfully
and in contemplation I pray that we may all experience the grace of God to heal
our deepest and darkest wounds, knowing that tomorrow the Son of Man will
walk in a garden through drifts of apple-blossom...
Peter
Death with Life Contended
Combat strangely ended!
Life's own Champion
Slain, yet lives to reign.
Tell us, Mary, say what you did see upon your way?
The Tomb the Living did enclose
I saw Christ's Glory as he rose!
The angels there attesting
Shroud, with grave clothes, resting...
Mors et vita duello
conflixere mirando:
dux vitae mortuus,
regnat vivus.
Dic nobis Maria,
quid vidisti in via?
Sepulcrum Christi viventis,
et gloriam vidi resurgentis:
Angelicos testes,
sudarium, et vestes.
Victimae Paschali Laudes
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