Would he devote that sacred head for such a worm as I?
The popularity of this sort of theological anthropology is reflecting in the likes of nonetheless than CS Lewis:
Whenever we find that our religious life is making us feel that we are good -- above all, that we are better than someone else -- I think we may be sure that we are being acted on, not by God, but by the devil. The real test of being in the presence of God is that you either forget about yourself altogether or see yourself as a small, dirty object.It's derived, of course, from Augustine (in Catholic circles) or Calvin (in Protestant circles).
What I find so difficult about it, though, is that it begins in the wrong place. I think anthropology should begin in Jesus Christ, not in Adam. But that's not the point of today's little meditation.
Today, I want to focus on Psalm 22. Or, more specifically, verses 1 and 6 (that figure so prominently in liturgies of Good Friday):
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?Follow that with Matthew 27.45-46:
Why are you so far from saving me,
so far from my cries of anguish?
But I am a worm and not a man,
scorned by everyone, despised by the people.
From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land. About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Eli, Eli,lema sabachthani?"The worm in question is the worm mentioned in Psalm 22.6: "But I am a worm and not a man". As we know, Psalm 22 was the psalm Jesus cries out from the cross, "Eli, Eli,lema sabachthani?" ("My God, my God why have you forsaken me?").
Is there a connection between the worm in verse six and Jesus's cry from the cross?
Worm theology wants to assume that we're mere worms and Jesus' death elevates us above that status. But I don't think that's what's happening in this text at all.
The Hebrew word for worm in Psalm 22.6 is תּוֹלָע (towla' )which has two meanings, "worm" and "scarlet/crimson".
The connection between the worm and the color red has to do with the fact that this particular worm was the "scarlet worm" (Kermes ilicis or Coccus ilicis). The Kermes worm is where we get the word crimson because this was the worm that was used to create red dye around the ancient Mediterranean. The worm isn't really a worm but a scale insect that attaches itself to trees, generally oaks, to feed off the sap. Jesus would have seen the Kermes worm on Palestine Oaks (Quercus calliprino).
While affixed to the tree the female worm would give birth to a brood and then die. Toward the end of this cycle the mother's body would bloat and fill with a red fluid that would stain the tree. The ancients would collect these dead bodies and the eggs to make a crimson dye.
So the worm in Psalm 22.6 is an insect that leaves a crimson stain on a tree. Not just any old worm.
What is interesting here, theologically, is how the image of the worm, and Jesus's invocation of it, may have less to do with the status of the worm on some hierarchy of beings, with worms being base and lowly (as in worm theology), than with the color of blood. And even if this isn't the proper reading it sure is an interesting one.
The worm invokes the red-stained tree of the Crucified One. Not my lowly status as a sinner. Sorry, Isaac Watts, but I think you missed it on this one.