Filled Full
On my first visit to St. John the Merciful Orthodox Mission, I was, of course, struck by the beauty of the icons, the woodwork at the altar, and the beautiful icon of the Theotokos at the entrance to the sanctuary. Then, as I witnessed my first Divine Liturgy, I saw and heard things that seemed quite familiar from my past six years practicing Judaism, some of which I had never actually seen in the synagogue itself. I’d been researching the Orthodox faith for quite a few months, but I decided to take the leap and attend.
I got there early, and the first thing that caught my attention was the incense. Over and over in the Torah and other Jewish literature, I had read how important a pleasing aroma was to the Lord, and how incense was itself a proper offering. God commanded Aaron to burn sweet incense on the golden altar every morning and every evening, “a perpetual incense before the Lord throughout your generations” (Exodus 30:7-8). Here, in this cozy Orthodox mission in D.C., I witnessed it for the first time: the priest preparing the altar and censing the whole worship space with this pleasing sacrifice. Moreover, some of what I heard Fr. John recite came straight from the Hebrew Scriptures. Needless to say, my interest was piqued.
After that first service, my wife and I spoke with Fr. John about our religious background, and something inexplicable came over me. I knew this is where I needed to be. At the time, I didn’t know for how long or for exactly what reason. I just knew I needed to be there and learn what the fulfillment of Christ truly meant in the ancient Orthodox faith.
What “Fulfilled” Means
I had always thought of fulfillment with a combination of a Protestant and a secular, Western mindset. For better or worse, I assumed the writers of the New Testament simply looked back, said “see, this is exactly what the prophet was talking about,” and tied it to something Jesus said or did. That is part of it, for sure, but there is so much more than simply connecting the dots.
Fulfillment means filled full. Literally. When Christ says, “I did not come to destroy but to fulfill” (Matthew 5:17), the Greek word is plēroō, to fill something up to the brim. In Christ, the Law and the Prophets are filled to overflowing, and so many themes from the Old Testament are filled full in the New, and they repeat themselves to overflowing.
Out of Egypt. Hosea writes, “When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called My son” (Hosea 11:1). Hosea is looking back at the Exodus, and St. Matthew applies the verse to the Holy Family returning from Egypt (Matthew 2:15). St. Matthew knew exactly what Hosea meant. Christ relives the story of Israel. He comes up out of Egypt, passes through the waters of the Jordan as Israel passed through the Red Sea, and spends forty days in the wilderness as Israel spent forty years. Where Israel stumbled, Christ remained faithful. The story of God’s son is filled full in the Son of God.
The Suffering Servant. Isaiah 53 describes a servant who “was led as a sheep to the slaughter” and bore the sins of many. Rashi (a prominent Jewish scholar) and much of Jewish commentary read the servant as the people of Israel. In Christ, both readings meet, because He is Israel gathered up in one Person. When the Ethiopian eunuch asked Philip whom the prophet was speaking of, Philip “beginning at this Scripture, preached Jesus to him” (Acts 8:32-35).
The Passover Lamb. The Passover lamb was to be eaten without breaking a single bone (Exodus 12:46). St. John notes that not one of Christ’s bones was broken on the Cross (John 19:36), and St. Paul says it plainly: “Christ, our Passover, was sacrificed for us” (1 Corinthians 5:7). As someone who has personally kept Passover for many years, hearing this again in this new light, made a profound impact on me that I simply cannot put into words.
St. Peter’s First Sermon
Since attending St. John the Merciful, I have read the Acts of the Apostles (the Book of Acts) numerous times. Each time I read it, I feel like something profoundly obvious was staring me in the face the whole time, and I failed to see it. St. Peter’s first sermon in Acts also became so clear to me. In a single sermon he draws on Joel, “I will pour out of My Spirit on all flesh,” on Psalm 15, “You will not leave my soul in Hades,” and on Psalm 109, “The Lord said to my Lord” (Acts 2:14-36). Peter was a fisherman, and the Sanhedrin (the Jewish Priestly High Court) saw him and John as “uneducated and untrained men” (Acts 4:13). He was not a Torah scholar like St. Paul. There is no other explanation than the work of the Holy Spirit.
Even the day itself is filled full. Pentecost is Shavuot, the feast on which Jewish tradition remembers the giving of the Torah at Sinai. At Sinai, the mountain burned with fire. At Pentecost, tongues of fire rested on the Apostles. After the golden calf, about three thousand men died (Exodus 32:28). After Peter’s sermon, about three thousand souls were baptized (Acts 2:41). The Law once written on tablets of stone is now written on the heart (Jeremiah 38:33).
From Temple and Synagogue to the Divine Liturgy
Then there are the things we do in the Divine Liturgy. The altar stands behind the iconostasis, much as the Holy of Holies stood behind the veil. Incense rises morning and evening. At the heart of the Anaphora, we sing “Holy, holy, holy, Lord of Sabaoth,” the same song of the seraphim that Isaiah heard in the Temple (Isaiah 6:3). After Communion, the priest prays the very words the seraph spoke when the coal from the altar touched Isaiah’s lips: “Behold, this has touched your lips” (Isaiah 6:7). The readings and the homily carry on the pattern of the synagogue, and the Eucharist fills full both the Temple sacrifice and the Passover meal.
Learning that the early Christians were still part of the Jewish community and synagogue life was profound to me. Peter and John still went up to the Temple at the hour of prayer (Acts 3:1). St. Paul preached in the synagogues wherever he traveled (Acts 13:14-16). They proclaimed Jesus as the Messiah from within that life, and over time their worship grew into its own service. It moved something within me. I can only grasp at how it must have felt to those far more deeply rooted in Jewish life to realize that Jesus of Nazareth was indeed the Messiah, and how it changed everything: their way of living, their understanding of the universe, and their worship and liturgical life.
Come and See
Like those early Christians, whose wisdom I can only pray for, I am on this same journey of discovery. So far, it has been one of the most fulfilling parts of my life, with the support of our lovely church family, as I work out my salvation “with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12). When Philip found Nathanael, he told him, “We have found Him of whom Moses in the law, and also the prophets, wrote.” Nathanael had his doubts, and asked whether anything good could come out of Nazareth. Philip simply answered, “Come and see” (John 1:45-46). I’ll say the same to you. Come and see.
by Curtis
