Commentary on the Johannine prologue

Theology Today, Apr 2003 by Newman, Barbara

There is something even more profound in her view of the body that stems from her theology of the Incarnation. Whether we love or hate our own bodies, we tend to think of them as ours. For Hildegard, though, the human form was quite literally the form of God: "the flesh that he cherished in burning love" because he meant to wear it as his royal vesture. The body as God's image is a doctrine she works out in detail, and, admittedly, much of what she has to say now sounds merely quaint and archaic. Beyond the curiosities, however, is an uncannily daring idea. The human body, in all its particularity, is not only an image of the cosmos ("microcosm" is the technical term), but also an image of God's holiness:

In the circle of the brain, God reveals his lordship, for the brain governs and rules the whole body. In the hair of the head, God designates his potential, which is his beauty, just as the hair beautifies the head. In the eyebrows, he demonstrates his might, for the brows protect a person's eyes and set off the beauty of the face. In the eyes, God declares his knowledge, by which he foresees and foreknows all. And, in the hearing, he discloses all the sounds of praise of the angelic hosts. In the nostrils, God signifies wisdom, which is the fragrant observance of order in all skills, so that, by its fragrance, a person may recognize what wisdom ordains. By the mouth, God designates his Word . . .

and so forth right down to the feet, which symbolize the faith that moves mountains-"for just as the feet support the whole body and carry it wherever it wants to go, faith mightily supports and magnificently carries the name of God everywhere with miracles."

Hildegard was a medical writer and healer, as well as a visionary theologian, so her familiarity with bodies went far beyond the symbolic. Her thought is awash in paradox: She can write fiercely of the opposition between flesh and spirit, especially when sexual purity is at stake, but she also bears witness to their inextricable union, a union sundered only (and temporarily) at death. This paradox is nothing if not Pauline: "the flesh lusts against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh" (Gal 5:17), the apostle writes, yet he also commands Christians to "glorify God in your body" (1 Cor 6:20). To Hildegard's visionary gaze, it was impossible even to look at human bodies without giving glory to God, for the simple and astonishing reason that "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth, and we beheld his glory." Here is Hildegard's central truth, the theme around which all her brilliant variations endlessly circle. The living Light that made us is the singing Word that took our flesh; he made us because we were eternally his and he wished to be revealed as ours. We are his mirrors, his marvels, his fellow workers, and the work of his hands.

A Note on the Translation

Hildegard's autobiographical remarks indicate that her commentary on the prologue of John's Gospel was the initial inspiration or core of her last major work, the Book of Divine Works. In the completed text, however, it falls about midway through her magnum opus on cosmology, divine activity in the world, and the ages of salvation history. Although she adopts the form of scriptural commentary, her thought often wanders far from the literal or apparent meanings of the biblical text. Here, as throughout her work, Hildegard's thinking is structured by loose analogy and association rather than strict logic. Underlying the commentary is a series of richly developed parallels: between the cosmos and the body, creation and incarnation, Genesis 1 and John 1, divine creativity and human craftsmanship, divine reason and human language. Hildegard "reads" the human body downward from head to feet, just as she reads history forward from the creation through the birth of Christ to the acts of redemption. Her style of thought is highly visual, so the text may be easier to approach if we imagine both a timeline and a diagram of the human body superimposed on the linear narrative of John's prologue. The imagery is further complicated by incidental analogies; for example, in the act of conception, the fire of the soul transmutes semen into flesh and blood, just as fire and water transform flour into bread. A eucharistic resonance may be intended.