Did Jesus Have Nightmares?
Guest post by Elke Speliopoulos
Today on Twitter, an image caught my eye. My Twitter stream is currently flooded with Ukraine war images. It’s a very unrestful time. As I am currently working on my dissertation in Intercultural Studies with a dissertation topic studying Arameans, a Syriac Orthodox people group who had to flee their homeland in southeastern Turkey after experiencing the 1915 genocide, consequently, I had started following a few Oriental Orthodox accounts. Twitter is always kind enough to suggest additional accounts. This is how I arrived at the tweet that made me stop in my scrolling. The image shared made me pause in my scrolling and ponder its impact on my heart. It made me almost immediately well up with tears.
An Orthodox artist who goes by the Twitter handle @artofmarza and describes herself as “a dork and Orthodox misfit who dabbles in iconography.” Art, as I will call her (even though I have no clue what her real name is), had shared an icon-like image, much like I have seen in many Orthodox churches worldwide. It showed Mary and Jesus. We’ve all seen them many times. In iconography, Mary rarely smiles. Mostly she is depicted as somber. The same goes for the Christ child she usually holds gently on her lap.
What captured my heart with this particular image was how Mary and Jesus were depicted: both with great uncertainty and—what one might describe as—fear in their eyes. Jesus is clinging to his mother, and she hugs her Son tightly. They seem fine if you catch a short glimpse at their clothing and the typical halo, but they are not, as their faces tell. I can imagine Mary and Jesus looking like this when they were strangers in Egypt, having fled from Herod. They had entered a strange world—nothing like their home. Maybe some people greeted them initially, but they remained the foreigners who had nothing and had to flee.
The text above it shared the artist’s thoughts: Did Christ ever have nightmares?
A God of vulnerability
A God of vulnerability … a God who became a baby—and was … afraid of the dark?
What a thought!
The following tweet by the artist put into words what made me reflect even further:
YES! This image the artist had created seemed to naturally couple with the images floating by us all day on Twitter. And YES, they are taking a lot out of me! Art had captured the emotions I am currently processing about where we find ourselves at this present moment: in a dark, frightening, heart-wrenching, and uncertain place. We see images like this daily right now—except the mothers are dressed in modern clothing, have lighter skin and often blonde hair, and clinging to their children in basements or subway tunnels. As I pondered Art’s words, I reminded myself of a portion of a hymn by Ephrem the Syrian, which I had recently read:
Thee then the Shepherds praise, because Thou hast reconciled the wolves and the lambs within the fold; O Babe, that art older than Noah and younger than Noah, that reconciled all within the ark amid the billows!
David Thy father for a lamb's sake slaughtered a lion. Thou, O Son of David, hast killed the unseen wolf that murdered Adam, the simple lamb who fed and bleated in Paradise.
At that voice of praise, brides were moved to hallow themselves, and virgins to be chaste, and even young girls became grave: they advanced and came in multitudes, and worshipped the Son.
Aged women of the city of David came to the daughter of David; they gave thanks and said, "Blessed be our country, whose streets are lightened with the rays of Jesse! Today is the throne of David established by Thee, O Son of David."
The old men cried, "Blessed be that Son Who restored Adam to youth, Who was vexed to see that he was old and worn out, and that the serpent who had killed him, had changed his skin and had gotten himself away. Blessed be the Babe in Whom Adam and Eve were restored to youth."
The chaste women said, O Blessed Fruit, bless the fruit of our wombs; to Thee may they be given as first-born. They waxed fervent and prophesied concerning their children, who, when they were killed for Him, were cut off, as it were first-fruits.
The barren also fondled Him, and carried Him; they rejoiced and said, Blessed Fruit born without marriage, bless the wombs of us that are married; have mercy on our barrenness, Thou wonderful Child of Virginity!
This hymn can remind us that Jesus was born to overcome all these fears and shortcomings with His endless love for us. When we struggle with the dark at work in this world, we can be sure that the Son of God is no stranger to any of our fears. How did the aged women, old men, chaste women, and barren relinquish their fear? They came and worshipped Him. In the middle of all the turmoil, it may be a perfect time to share this hope of Jesus with refugees of any sort we encounter—right after we feed and clothe them. Help them release that nervous tension and shower them with the love of the Lamb. And thank you to Art and Ephrem the Syrian who blessed me today.
Elke Speliopolous is German-American living in Arizona in the US and after many years debating it, finally started her Ph.D. at age 60
Art of Marza here. I am so touched by this article! One little correction though. I'm a woman.