Spiritual Milk

Madonna di San Gugliemo, 12th century (Sienna, Italy). This depiction of the “Madonna Lactans” (Nursing Madonna) is a eucharistic image as much as it is an image of a mother caring for her child. Read more about this type of image here and see more examples here.

And I, brothers and sisters, was able to speak to you not as spiritual people but only as carnal people, as infants in Christ. I gave you milk to drink, not substantial food, because you were not yet capable, nor are you capable until now, for you are fleshy people. (1 Cor. 3:1-3)

In the ancient world, milk-blood-semen were all thought to be the same liquid but warmed to differing temperatures by different internal organs. Blood was the coldest of these and the basic, most natural form of this liquid. Milk was blood, warmed and made frothy in a woman’s breasts. Semen was blood, made even warmer and frothier in a man’s testes. According to this biological idea, when a mother was nursing her child, she was feeding the baby with her own blood.

Because blood and milk were identical, the correspondence of the Virgin’s milk and Christ’s blood was important to early and medieval Christians. The Virgin’s blood becomes milk in her breasts; she nurses Christ, feeding him her warm and frothy blood; he drinks this frothy blood, which becomes the blood in his own veins. Medieval images of the Nursing Madonna (Madonna lactans) are fundamentally eucharistic images, celebrating the identity of the Virgin’s milk with Christ’s blood; she feeds him with her body which becomes his Body and he feeds the Church with his Body and Blood in the Eucharist.

There is no more vivid and elaborate exposition of 1 Corinthians 3 in early Christian literature than that found in Clement’s Paedagogus 1.6…. By combining Galatians 3:28 and 1 Corinthians 3, Clement sets the foundation for his argument that all Christians are already spiritual…and, as a result, milk-drinking infants cannot be viewed as equivalent to “carnal” Christians. Rather, milk is the food of all Christians who “seek our mother, the church.”

John David Penniman, Raised on Christian Milk

Not only did a mother’s milk (blood) provide sustenance to her baby, the infant received religious and ethnic formation as well by ingesting his/her mother’s identity via the milk-blood. This is why receiving Holy Communion was so important: to receive Christ’s blood was to be shaped and formed by his identity, according to St. Gregory of Nyssa.

Discover more about this fascinating subject in Raised on Christian Milk: Food and the Formation of the Soul in Early Christianity by John David Penniman (Yale University Press, 2017).

A Tongue of Greek Fire

A Byzantine ship using Greek fire against a ship belonging to the rebel Thomas the Slav, 821. 12th century illustration from the Madrid Skylitzes. The tiny rudder of the ship controls its movement and “Greek fire” was a terrifying weapon that we still don’t completely understand; it seems to have been similar to napalm.

When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal. Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell. (James 3:3-6)

The tongue was viewed throughout Church history as the key to a person’s inner life. Justin Martyr, Church Father and Apologist, wrote, “By examining the tongue of a patient, physicians find out the diseases of the body; philosophers find out the diseases of the mind; Christians find out the diseases of the soul.” Gossip and idle talk in 2nd Thessalonians mark the followers of the Antichrist, the sower of division and discord. Gossip and idle talk are among the deadliest of the “deadly sins;” if I can eliminate these from my life, I have become nearly perfect.

We can each see ourselves as a ship, directed by the rudder, spewing the medieval weapon of Greek fire at people we consider our enemies–or even our friends, if we are bored and want to hear the sound of our own voices. Greek fire was deadly and inextinguishable; the substance known as “wildfire” in Game of Thrones was based on Greek fire.

Too often we would rather say anything than endure a moment of silence. Or we are hungry for the attention that comes our way when we begin, “Did you hear about ….” We fast from noise, we fast from attention-seeking when we exercise control of our tongue. If there was a 12-step program for Gossipers Anonymous or Idle Talkers Anonymous, we could all sign up and attend the meetings.

St. Gregory of Nyssa thought that hate, envy, and hypocrisy–the three roots of most gossip–are the attitudes most opposed to real humanity. Inasmuch as we have surrendered to these attitudes, we have become subhuman and cannot hope to become the true human beings we were created to be so long as we harbor these attitudes.

We are given the fasting days of the Church to practice control of what comes out of our mouths (gossip) as well as what goes in (food). In the 1979 BCP of the United States, we are called to fast on most Fridays and the weekdays of Lent; in earlier editions of the BCP, there are also Ember Days, Rogation Days, and the eves of 16 major feasts that are considered fasting days.

Fire goes out without wood, and quarrels disappear when gossip stops. Proverbs 26:20     

I am Wounded with Love

The heart of the Mother of God is pierced by sorrows because she loves God; although St. Simeon foretold when Christ was 40 days old that his mother’s heart would be pierced by sorrow, the classic Christian belief is that her heart had already been pierced by love for God from the day she was born. This icon is also known as the “Softener of Evil Hearts” as the Mother of God can soften/pierce the hearts of those whose hearts are stony and unforgiving. Many pray before this icon to soften feelings of enmity that make it difficult to forgive others.

In Christ, that which is uncreated, eternal, existing before the ages, is completely inexpressible and incomprehensible to all created intellects. Yet that which was revealed in the flesh can to a certain extent be grasped by human understanding. It is towards this in Christ that the Church, our teacher, looks, and of this does she speak. inasmuch as this can be made intelligible to those who listen to her.

… he who sees the Church looks directly at Christ–Christ building and increasing by the addition of the elect. The bride then takes the veil from her eyes and with pure vision sees the ineffable beauty of her spouse. Thus she is wounded by a spiritual and fiery dart of desire. For love that intense is called desire. No one should be ashamed of this as the arrow comes from God…. the bride is proud of her wound for this desire has pierced her to the depths of her heart. This she makes clear when she says to the others, I am wounded with love (Song of Songs, 5:5).

(St. Gregory of Nyssa, On the Song of Songs)

The bride–who is always the Mother of God, the Church, and each believer personally–is wounded with love. Driven mad by desire for her divine bridegroom. Delirious with love. In this mad, intense desire for the groom she finds it possible to love all those whom he loves as well even though she may not even like them herself. In this all-encompassing love we see a little of the incomprehensible love of God.

Many mystics describe an experience of being pierced by love for God during their own personal prayer. But more important than being pierced in such a personal way and having a particular emotional experience during prayer is the ongoing living out day-to-day of the love which all believers are wounded by. All those who struggle in some way to see God or apprehend the truth of reality are pierced by this desire. This wound–this desire–should shape and motivate all our actions as go about our business and not be limited to a particular “quiet time” we have alone although those quiet times are vital to nurture and develop this ongoing wound of desire and love.

To see the Church–corporately and personally–wounded with love for God is to see Christ wounded with love for us.