Scenes from the Old and New Testaments (Dittochaeon)

Eve was then a white dove, then black she became through the snake’s poison by deceit that counseled ill, and stained innocent Adam with foul spots; the dragon, now victor, soon gives the naked fig-leaf coverings.

God judges the sacrifices of the two brothers with differing assent, accepting the living, refusing the earthly. The farmer in envy strikes down the shepherd: in Abel the pattern of the soul is shown; our flesh in Cain’s offering.

As messenger of the flood now going down, the dove brings back to the ark in its beak a branch of green olive; for the raven, caught by its gluttony among foul carcasses, had stayed; she brings back the new joys of peace bestowed.

This was the lodging of the Lord, where the leafy oak of Mamre sheltered the old man’s herdsman’s roof: in that tent Sarah laughed that late joys of offspring were promised her, and that her decrepit husband could believe it so.

Abraham bought a field in which to lay the bones of his wife, since righteousness and faith dwell as strangers on earth. This is that cave bought for thousands, where a resting place was gained for holy ashes.

Twice seven ears of grain, and as many cows, seen by Pharaoh in his sleep, foretell by their differing form that a time of plenty and of famine is at hand for two seven-year spans: this the patriarch solved, with Christ as interpreter.

The boy sold by his brothers’ treachery in turn himself orders a cup to be hidden secretly in his brother’s sack. And as Joseph holds them guilty of theft, the false sale is revealed; they recognize their brother, and are ashamed at his pardon.

Flying over the thorns, God in fire, with flashing voice, addresses the young man, then by chance a keeper of the flock. He takes the rod, as commanded. The rod becomes a serpent. He looses the bonds of his feet; he hastens to Pharaoh’s citadel.

The just man goes his way safely, even through the great sea. See, for God’s servants the Red Sea parts asunder, while the same waters drown the raging sinners. Pharaoh is overwhelmed; a free way lay open to Moses.

The mountain’s peak smokes with divine fires; on it the page of stones written with ten words is given to Moses; having received the law he returns to his own people; but for them the form of a calf was their only god, and their god was gold.

The tents of the fathers grow white with the bread of angels. There is sure proof of the deed: a golden urn thenceforth holds the manna kept. For the ungrateful another cloud comes, and the quail heaped up fills those greedy for flesh.

The dry road of the desert seethed with black serpents, and now poisoned bites through livid wounds were consuming the people; but the wise leader hung up on a cross a snake of polished bronze, to temper the venom.

A pool, harsh to the taste, while the people thirsted, held gloomy waters with stagnant gall. Holy Moses says: “Give wood, throw it into this water: the bitter will be turned into a sweet taste.”

With Moses as leader the men came to where six springs, and six others likewise, watered with glassy dew seventy palms: this mystic grove of Elim prefigured the apostolic number also in the books.

The Jordan is borne back to its source with its flowing tide, while it leaves dry fords to be trodden by the people of God. Witnesses are the twice six stones which the fathers set up in the river itself, in the pattern of the disciples.

Jericho fell: only the house of Rahab stands. The harlot, hostess of the saints (so great is the power of faith), secure in her house unharmed, displays the conspicuous scarlet against the hostile fires as a sign of the blood.

A lion undertakes to break Samson, unconquered in the strength of his hair. He kills the beast; but from the lion’s mouth honey flows; the jawbone of an ass pours forth a spring of itself: folly overflows with waters, strength with sweetness.

Samson catches three hundred foxes, arms them with fire, ties torches to their tails behind, sends them into the crops of the foreigners, and burns the harvest. So now the cunning fox of heresy scatters the flames of vices in the fields.

David was small, the last of his brothers, and lately Jesse’s care of the flock, shaping the lyre at his father’s fold; then to the delights of the king. Soon he joins grim wars and lays Goliath low with his whistling sling.

The insignia of David, the mild king, shine: scepter, oil, horn, diadem, and purple, and altar. All fit Christ: the cloak and the crown, the rod of power, the horn of the cross, the altar, the olive oil.

Wisdom builds the temple through the service of Solomon: the Queen of the South brings heaped-up weighty gold. The time is at hand when Christ will build a temple in the heart of man, which Greeks will worship, which barbarians will enrich.

When the sons of the prophets happened to be cutting wood on the bank of the river, an axe flew off and fell. The iron sank in the stream; but soon light wood, thrown into the water, made the iron come back.

The people of the Hebrews, taken captive for their frequent sinning, had wept their exile by the rivers of dread Babylon; then they refuse, when ordered, to sing their fathers’ songs, and hang their instruments on the branches of the bitter willow.

Here good Hezekiah earned to extend his appointed day by three times five years, and to stretch the law of dying: by as many steps as evening had covered with shadow, the sun, turned back toward its rising, showed them flooded with light.

As God draws near, a messenger comes down from the high throne of the Father, Gabriel, and suddenly enters the Virgin’s dwelling. “The Holy Spirit,” he says, “has filled you, Mary: you will bear Christ, holy Virgin.”

Holy Bethlehem is the head of the world: it brought forth Jesus, the beginning of the world, the very head of beginnings. The city bore Christ as man; but Christ was acting as God before the sun was made, before the morning star existed.

Here the Magi bring precious gifts to the child Christ at the Virgin’s breast, of myrrh and incense and gold. The mother marvels at so many honors of her chaste womb, and that she has borne God as man, and the highest King too.

The power of angelic light fills the watchful eyes of the shepherds, as it celebrates Christ born of the Virgin. They find him covered with cloths; a manger was the cradle for him lying there; they exult eagerly and adore the Godhead.

The impious enemy Herod rages in countless slaughters of infants, while he seeks Christ among them. The cradles smoke with the milk-white blood of little ones, and the loving breasts of mothers are wet with warm wounds.

The Baptist, fed on locusts and the honeycombs of the woods, and clothed in camel’s garment, bathes in the river; he had dipped Christ too; but the Spirit sent from heaven testifies that the one dipped is he who forgives the sins of the dipped.

A pinnacle stands, surviving the destruction of the old temple; for the corner remains built of that stone, to the age of ages, which the builders rejected; now it is the head of the temple and the joining of two stones.

Galileans, by chance, were celebrating the covenant of marriage with a gathering for the auspices. Now the servants lacked wine: Christ bids the water jars be quickly filled with water; from them the liquid of old wine is poured out.

A water that is a medicine for diseases, which breathes out at various hours, poured forth by a hidden cause, they call Siloam: where the Savior bade the blind man’s eyes, smeared with spittle, be washed in the spring.

The dancing girl demands a deadly reward, the head of John, cut off, to carry back on a dish to the lap of her incestuous mother. The royal harpist bears the gift, her hands sprinkled with righteous blood.

The Lord goes through the midst of the sea, treading the liquid waves with his heel. He bids his disciple step down from the unsteady boat; but mortal fear sinks his feet; yet he guides his hand and steadies his steps.

A demon had broken iron chains in the prison of the tombs: he bursts out and rolls at the feet of Jesus. But the Lord claims the man for himself, and bids the enemy seize the herds of swine and be drowned in the sea.

God broke five loaves, and twin fishes: with these he amply filled five thousand people. Twice six baskets are filled with the great quantity of fragments: so great is the wealth of the eternal table.

The place in Bethany, aware of the famous deed, saw you, Lazarus, returned from the seat below. The tomb appears split, its doors broken, from which the limbs of the decaying buried man came back.

The field of Akeldama, sold for the wage of an unspeakable crime, full of graves, receives funerals for burial. This is the price of the blood of Christ. Far off, unhappy Judas tightens his neck with a noose for so great a crime.

See, the impious house of blaspheming Caiaphas has fallen, in which the sacred face of Christ was struck with blows. This end awaits sinners: their life, overwhelmed, will lie without end in ruinous heaps.

Bound in this house the Lord stood, and, tied to a column, gave his back, like a slave, to the scourges. The venerable column still stands and bears up the temple, and teaches us to live free of all scourges.

Pierced through either side, Christ sends forth water and blood. The blood is victory; the water is the bath. Then two robbers on crosses on either side close by disagree: one denies God; the other wins a crown.

No stone held Christ, nor the bars of the tomb: death lies conquered by him; he trod down the abyss. The people of the saints went with him to the regions above, and he gave himself to many to be tested by touch and eyes.

From the summit of the olive-bearing mountain Christ returned upward to the Father, marking footprints of peace. From the everlasting leaves a very rich moisture flows, which proves the gift poured on the earth from the Chrism.

Stephen first enters on the reward of blood, struck down by a shower of stones; yet, bloodied, he asks Christ amid the stones that the stoning may not be held against his enemies. O the wondrous goodness of the first crown!

There remains the gate of the temple which they called Beautiful, the outstanding work of Solomon; but a greater work of Christ shone out in it. For the lame man, bidden to rise by Peter’s mouth, was amazed that his dislocated steps could run.

Peter dreams of a dish let down from high heaven, filled with animals of every kind: he refuses to eat; but the Lord bids him think all things clean. He rises, and calls the unclean nations to the mysteries.

Here the wolf, once rapacious, is clothed with soft fleece: he who had been Saul becomes, his sight taken away, Paul. Soon he receives his sight; he becomes an apostle, and teacher of the peoples, mighty in speech to change ravens into doves.

The seats of the twice twelve elders, with bowls and harps, and shining with as many crowns as insignia, praise the Lamb bloodied by slaughter, who alone was able to unroll the book and to open the seven seals.