Introduction

 

It is commonly understood that the Hellenic ideal of “see[ing] things as they really are” and the Hebraic one of “conduct and obedience” are mutually exclusive paths to human perfection.1 According to Matthew Arnold, the focus of Hellenism is on constructing clear and “right thinking” through one’s experiences—to have the openness to perceive material things “in their beauty” so as to dispel one’s ignorance.2 Conversely, Hebraism considers sin an obstacle to man seeing things in the reality of their beauty,3 thus emphasising “right acting” according to divine commandments as the standard for perfection instead.4 However, in this essay, by relating “Parker’s Back” (1965) by Flannery O’Connor to the healing of the man born blind in the Gospel of John, I argue that man is exhorted to display obedience precisely through Hellenic openness, to recognise and respond to the real presence of Christian divinity when it is revealed in the physical world. The physical world is thus a necessary medium through which the divine invites man into an experience of mystery. 

 

This essay adopts John Desmond’s conception of mystery as the “fullest nourishment” of intelligence which “can be known [but only] as mystery.”5 Thus, mystery is defined as ineffable spiritual insights about God which characters may never fully grasp (perhaps due to the presence of sin which stands between man and God). Characters may, nonetheless, prove by their actions that they do understand such spiritual insights to some degree. An underlying epistemic assumption that sustains such a conception of humanity’s relationship to mystery is Alan Culpepper’s view that “everything in the world is capable of ‘re-presenting’ the realm and reality of its creator.”6 Culpepper suggests that the divine is able to imbue its presence in earthly objects, giving man glimpses of who God is and what God’s will is, even while man is still on Earth. I will focus on Parker in “Parker’s Back” and the man born blind in John as examples of characters who attain a degree of spiritual insight through their recognition of divinity as it is revealed to them through the physical world. 

 

In “Parker’s Back”, the eponymous character is constantly getting new tattoos on every part of his body except his back. These tattoos offer him secular and short-lived relief from his dissatisfactions in life, including his unfulfilling marriage to Sarah Ruth. However, after Parker’s supernatural encounter in the middle of an ordinary day’s work, he displays his new reverence for God by getting a vivid Christ tattoo on his back. Meanwhile, in John, Jesus initiates the blind man’s healing to correct His disciples’ assumption that the man’s blindness is a consequence of sin. Both “Parker’s Back” and John go on, respectively, to juxtapose Parker and the healed blind man against Sarah Ruth and the Pharisees, who remain stagnant in the beliefs they have long been familiar with, despite the contrasting evidence presented to them. 

 

Divine Revelation through the Physical World

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Parker’s and the blind man’s transformative encounters with the divine take place through their senses, namely the faculty of sight. This involvement of the senses affirms that the divine works from within the material world, in the immediate reality of characters. Hence, it foreshadows a Hellenic need to “follow, with flexible activity, the whole play of the universal order, to be apprehensive of missing any part of it,”7 so as to recognise the divine signs conveyed to man through the physical world. 

 

Parker’s pivotal supernatural encounter occurs almost as an intrusion into an ordinary day’s work. While baling hay, he suddenly sees the sun begin “to switch regularly from in front to behind him” and a “tree reaching out to grasp him.”8 The description that “if he had known how to cross himself he would have done it,”9 and later that he “collaps[es] on his knees twice”10 while attempting to return to his truck affirms Parker’s recognition of God’s awe-inspiring presence in the fantastical scene. These actions starkly contrast with Parker’s disposition prior to the supernatural moment, where he downplays Sarah Ruth’s lecture about God’s judgment, interjecting with “tales of the hefty girl he work[s] for.”11 Evidently, Parker’s worldly concern for attention from his wife previously outweighed his reverence for God. One can further argue that the divine already subtly reveals itself to Parker’s senses when he, at fourteen, first sees a tattooed man at the fair, which gives him a thirst for the divine even before he is consciously aware of it. Indeed, the man’s tattoos are described as “an arabesque of men and beasts and flowers on his skin [which] appeared to have a subtle motion of its own.” While the “motion of its own”12 alludes to a secular pursuit of independence from God, Parker’s “wonder” towards the Edenic image of an “arabesque” suggests that even through the worldly sight of a tattooed man, he is being “turned…gently in a different direction,”13 towards a longing for the original paradise of harmony with God. 

 

Analogously, in John, the miraculous restoration of the blind man’s sight takes place through the mundane material of mud, made from soil and Jesus’s saliva. Jesus’s power to heal through an unremarkable element like mud is perceptible—both to the blind man himself who feels the mud and experiences restored vision, as well as to the onlookers and readers who witness his astonishing transformation from “the man who used to sit and beg.”14 The way in which the text characterises Jesus's healing as one which had “never [been heard of] since the world began"15 further testifies to His divinity, since He evidently transcends man’s capabilities. The divine intention to reveal itself through man’s senses is once more seen in Jesus’s declaration that the man was born blind so “that the works of God might be displayed in him.”16 Here, the inherent visuality of the verb “displayed” contrasts with the man’s initial blindness, reiterating the tangible transfiguration of man’s earthly weakness into divine testimony. Parker’s and the blind man’s empirical encounters with the divine hence illuminate how the divine is sensible within man’s world, using earthly objects as a necessary medium for man’s understanding. 

 

Participating in Mystery through Hebraic Obedience 

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Parker’s and the healed blind man’s divinely-given vision can be considered a participation in mystery, because both characters proceed from recognition of God’s presence in physical reality into the deeper spiritual reality of both the nature of the divine and how they should respond to it. Parker’s spiritual insight takes the form of a new Hebraic obedience towards God. This obedience is exemplified through the motif of the mysterious presence behind him, which he only consciously acknowledges after his supernatural experience. Parker’s deference to God is seen when he “turn[s] his head as if he expect[s] someone behind him to give him the answer” after Sarah Ruth asks who he is.17 This gesture symbolises Parker’s acquired reliance on the divine, not just for guidance in his actions but even for an answer about his identity. Hence, the divine unveils itself through worldly phenomena, but for the ultimate purpose of leading man to higher spiritual insight. Likewise, the blind man attains spiritual understanding about Jesus’s divine origin alongside his physical restoration, as he professes, “If this man [Jesus] were not from God, he could do nothing.”18 The man’s confidence and courage in replying to the Pharisees’ hostile confrontations are an especially striking testimony to his divine enlightenment, as he seems to possess an unwavering certainty in his perspective, defending it with seemingly no concern about being “reviled” or cast out.19

 

Crucially, however, both characters exemplify how participation in mystery is less about knowing how the divine works and more about understanding how to respond to divine prompting. Here, Hebraic obedience to “set doing above knowing” overrules the Hellenic quest for “unclouded clearness of mind.”20 Parker responds to the spiritual understanding of his urgent need to obey God by going “straight” to get the Christ tattoo after his supernatural moment.21 He abides despite the remaining higher mystery surrounding the implications of his divine encounter, as seen from how he “only knew that there had been a great change in his life, a leap forward into a worse unknown.”22 The blind man goes through a similar thought process, admitting that “whether [Jesus] is a sinner I do not know. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”23 This declaration shows that despite the man lacking the higher knowledge of exactly how the mud and washing in the pool of Siloam can heal his blindness, his cooperation with Jesus’s mysterious instruction has restored him. Hence, Hebraic obedience is necessary due to the ineffable nature of spiritual insight. One can gain conviction in how to respond to the divine, while remaining unable to describe how one has attained this conviction or where it might lead. 

 

Caveat: The Need for Hellenism in Hebraism

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Nonetheless, the need for Hellenic openness to function as a complement to Hebraic obedience is underscored by the counterexamples of Sarah Ruth and the Pharisees, who do not experience mystery despite their Hebraic deference to the letter of the law. Sarah Ruth is devoted to the Bible and “read[ing] it all,”24 while the Pharisees have conviction in being disciples of Moses, whom they know “God has spoken to.”25 However, their failure to attain spiritual insight highlights the importance of being open to divine revelation in the present, instead of clinging uncompromisingly to pre-existing beliefs. Hebraism that responds Hellenically to divine revelation amidst uncertainty is thus more fruitful than a rigid Hebraism that rejects divine revelation in favour of one’s preconceived notion of divinity. 

 

In clinging to her legalistic beliefs, Sarah Ruth deprives herself of sharing in Parker’s recognition of God’s material presence in his Christ tattoo. Her self-sabotaging insistence on her literal biblical interpretation of the divine is seen from her quoting of scripture that “no man shall see his face,”26 thus refusing to even look at the tattoo. Parker’s repeated persuasions “Look at [the Christ tattoo]!” and “You ain’t seen him”27 nudge Sarah Ruth towards his Hebraic revelation that the “eyes that were now forever on his back were eyes to be obeyed.”28 Yet, she chooses to deny this divine invitation into mystery through the physical world. O'Connor impresses upon readers the consequences of this choice through a striking motif: the juxtaposition of Sarah Ruth’s “eyes [which] hardened still more”29 against Parker’s “hollow”, “cavernous”30 eyes contrasts her disobedient rigidity against the empty expanse of Parker’s mind which is available for receiving spiritual insight.

 

Sarah Ruth’s behaviour in fact puts us in mind of the Pharisees, whose strict adherence to the letter of the law is seen in their insistence that Jesus “is not from God, for [the mere reason that] he does not keep the Sabbath.”31 Yet, the healed blind man’s eloquent counter-proposal that “[i]f this man were not from God, he could do nothing” offers a new measure for whether someone is sent from God.32 Whereas the Pharisees cling to their preconceived understanding that one who defies the Sabbath law is a sinner and thus separate from God, the blind man exhorts them and readers to recognise Jesus’s present healing power as evidence for His divine authority. As the blind man implies from his statement that “if anyone is a worshiper of God and does his will, God listens to him,”33 Jesus transcends the old laws because the success of His act of healing affirms its alignment with God’s will, even though the healing takes place on the Sabbath. Thus, the Pharisees’ ‘blindness’ to Jesus’s divine origin should be viewed as the result of their inflexibility rather than genuine ignorance. They persist in dismissing and scandalising Jesus’s miracle, despite their access to the healed blind man’s coherent explanation about how to reconcile Jesus’s divinity with his healing on a Sabbath day. 

 

Both Sarah Ruth and the Pharisees thus ironically exhibit what Sandra Schneiders describes as “the total blindness of one who claims to see…but who has made his or her own vision the measure of the visible.”34 Sarah Ruth and the Pharisees proclaim themselves to have a solid understanding of divinity based on their Hebraic obedience to the letter of the law. However, their refusal to revise this understanding in the face of new divine revelation betrays how their “spiritual insight” has lapsed into a self-constructed vision rather than a divinely-enlightened one. Hence, man’s deprivation from spiritual insight arises not from a lack of access or natural blindness to divine presence, but from their wilful denial of their own limited understanding, seen in their rejection of the revelation embedded in sensible objects. 

 

In the same vein, then, Parker’s and the healed blind man’s entry into mystery necessarily arises from their Hellenic openness to divine revelation. As Schneiders notes, “the fidelity to one’s experience no matter how frightening or costly it appears to be…is what enables the person, regardless of moral weakness…to be interiorly” instructed by God.35 She suggests that man’s choice of being receptive and responding to a divine encounter, despite the discomfort which may accompany it, is pertinent in facilitating their communion with mystery. 

 

The potential need to revise existing beliefs about the divine in the face of contrasting evidence in fact highlights the productive value of ‘not-knowing’. John symbolically reinforces this balance through Jesus’s response to the Pharisees: “If you were blind, you would have no guilt; but now that you say, ‘We see,’ your guilt remains.”36 Indeed, Parker and the blind man are presented as blank slates whose initial blindness (figurative and physical respectively) to the divine leaves room for them to respond readily to their supernatural encounters. Meanwhile, as firm professors of their legalistic faith, Sarah Ruth and the Pharisees face the additional challenge of needing to unlearn their strong existing views about the divine in order to reconcile themselves to the new reality that divine revelation presents. 

 

The value of obedient openness is exemplified in Parker’s acceptance of the image of the “flat stern Byzantine Christ with all-demanding eyes” for his tattoo, over more benign and “reassuring” alternatives like “The Good Shepherd” or “The Smiling Jesus.”37 His choice indicates a shift away from his original attitude towards tattoos. Previously, tattoos had primarily formed a worldly outlet for Parker’s discontentment, as seen from how he had found himself “relaxed and easy” not distressed, when getting them.38 Thus, it is arguable that Parker’s new stern Christ tattoo represents a radical gesture of openness to God’s calling even amidst the unease it causes him. It is then especially fitting that later, after Parker outwardly acknowledges his identity as “Obadiah”, or servant of God, “his spider web soul [turns] into a perfect arabesque of colours.”39 This return of the image of the arabesque from an earlier part of the short story emphasises that Parker’s yearning for God, although first awakened by his sight of the arabesque on the worldly tattooed man, requires and works through the fusion of his Hellenic openness to God’s presence and Hebraic obedience to reach its perfect fulfilment. Similarly, the blind man’s receptivity to divine instruction is affirmed in his recount: “The man called Jesus made mud and anointed my eyes...So I went and washed and received my sight.”40 His readiness to respond to divine revelation is reiterated in how he proclaims to Jesus, “Lord, I believe” and “worship[s] him”41 after Jesus unveils that He is the “Son of Man.”42 Therefore, through their obedient openness, Parker and the blind man are able to cooperate with the movement of divine grace in illuminating their spiritual vision. 

 

Conclusion

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In conclusion, Hebraic obedience remains at the crux of Christian perfection through mystery, or higher spiritual insight. However, man is called to demonstrate this obedience through choosing a moderated form of Hellenism. This complex spiritual disposition entails maintaining a “basic readiness to see and hear what is really there” when God reveals himself in the physical world, as well as to dutifully give this empirical reality precedence over dogmatic beliefs.43 In its analysis of how man’s communion with mystery requires an open-minded obedience in “Parker’s Back” and the story of the man born blind in John, this essay ultimately foregrounds a way in which what Arnold calls the “ineffaceable difference”44 between Hellenism and Hebraism as paths to perfection may be breached and bridged.