Matt 23-25: The Olivet Discourse (part 5 of 5)

This is the final installation of a post long overdue. Life has been extremely busy over the last year, yet I did not forget about closing out this five-part series on the Olivet Discourse. 

In this post I'm going to continue where I left off, which was my promise to show the literary relationship between the last section of the Sermon on the Mount (Matt 25:31-46) with the first section of that same Sermon (Matt 23:1-12). 

As I also presented in the first post of this five-part series, Matthew's Sermon on the Mount is structured in a six-part chiasm as follows: 

A)  Those seated in Moses’ seat: not doing what they do 

       (23:1–12)                                                                                               

     B)  Jesus denounces those seated in Moses’ seat / 8 sections 

           (23:13, *14, 15–39)                                                                                         

     

            C) Jesus asks his disciples a question about the temple, and then promises its 

               desolation (24:1—2)

             C’) The disciples ask Jesus three questions about the temple and its desolation 

               (24:3)                                                  

     

      B’) Jesus answers all three questions about the temple and its desolation / 8 sections   

            (24:4—25:30)                                                                                                   

A’)  The Son of Man seated on his own throne: doing what they did not do 

      (25:31—46)

This chiastic literary structure shows that there is a relationship between sections A and A', B and B', C and C', focusing heavily on a central sections (sections C and C') but yet moving forward in an A-B-C-C'-B'-A' trajectory, ending with words, phrases, and concepts that mirror how the Sermon began.

With that in mind, let's dive into the first Section (Section A above), which begins the entire Sermon as follows:

Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples, “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat, so do and observe whatever they tell you, but not the works they do. 

For they preach, but do not practice. They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger. They do all their deeds to be seen by others. For they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long, and they love the place of honor at feasts and the best seats in the synagogues and greetings in the marketplaces and being called rabbi by others. 

But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all brothers. And call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven. Neither be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Christ. The greatest among you shall be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted." (Matt 23:1-12)

Matthew records Jesus' Sermon on the Mount with a direct address to "the crowds and to his disciples" about another influential group of Jewish authorities they were all familiar with, "the scribes and Pharisees."  Nothing could be more clear from the outset that Matthew records a contrast between two groups of disciples-->(1) disciples and observers of Jesus and (2) disciples and observers of respected first century Jewish authorities. In other words, Jesus is shown directing his whole Sermon with a distinction between a group addressed as "you" and a group addressed as "them", and the main difference between the two groups is whom they would choose to listen to, and trust, and follow. Would it be Jesus and his disciples, or the already-established Jewish authorities? According to Jesus, "whoever" had decided to exalt himself would ultimately be humbled, and "whoever" committed to humbling himself ended up being exalted. 

So, again, the contrast is very clear: people in first century Judea had a choice to make when listening to Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. Whoever followed Jesus and his disciples would be exalted, whereas those who followed the Scribes and Pharisees (who would later indulge in slandering and crucifying Jesus, and also persecute his disciples) would be humbled. 

Interestingly, Matthew begins this discourse with a unique description of the Scribes and Pharisees, worthy of remembrance. He says "they" are the ones who "sit in Moses' seat". Here, again, it is noteworthy to point out that this action of "sitting" is what begins the Sermon. It is also what Matthew highlights from the teachings of Jesus to end the Sermon. Surely that cannot be a mere coincidence if this is a thoughtful piece of literature, which it clearly is! 

Now let's dive into section A', the last section of the Sermon in Matthew's Gospel, and look at the way in which Matthew draws together these images from the beginning of the Sermon. Pay special attention to how this section begins with Jesus "sitting" on a throne in the heavens (not Moses' seat on earth, among Jewish authorities), and the repeated contrast that is highlighted between two groups of disciples---> one flock (goats) on the left side, and one flock (sheep) on the right side of Jesus. 

This closing section of the Sermon (Matthew 25:31-46) reads as follows:

And when the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne, and they—all the nations—will be gathered before him, and he will separate them one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left. Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ 

Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’ Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” 

When Jesus had finished all these sayings, he said to his disciples, “You know that after two days the Passover is coming, and the Son of Man will be delivered up to be crucified.”

Do you see the contrast?

The scribes and Pharisees "sit" in Moses' seat, the conceptual throne of those guarding and administering Moses' Law, whereas Jesus is described as "sitting on his glorious throne". The scribes, Pharisees, and "whoever" else rejected Jesus in preference for those authorities sitting in Moses' seat are the goats on the left side of Jesus. The disciples who humbled themselves before God, following Jesus and his Apostles would be exalted. They were the sheep on the right side of God.

Is this making sense now?

All throughout this five-part series of the Sermon on the Mount I have been showing verse by verse the literary relationship between everything described therein, and at the center of the entire Sermon in a very clear sequence of promises---> promises regarding the signs preceding the end of the Old Covenant, and the signs of the end itself---> promises regarding the signs preceding Christ's coming in judgment upon Jerusalem, and the signs of Christ's coming in judgment itself.

So far, from the beginning of Matthew chapter 23, when this sermon began, there has been absolutely zero indication of two separate historical judgments. All references clearly direct the sustained reader to focus upon the soon-coming events leading up to the (now famous and cataclysmic) destruction of Jerusalem and it's precious Temple in AD70, which was the definitive end of the old covenant administration, the end of Moses' so-called "seat".

A question remains: Is Matthew 25:31-46 also about the events related to AD70? After all, the scene describes Jesus sitting on his throne, which could possibly refer to another time period other than the events surrounding the destruction of Jerusalem.

I think this is still primarily describing the same events, and not some so-called "end of time" scenario. Let me explain some reasons as to why I say that.

First, there is absolutely nothing whatsoever in the text itself which implies, infers, or directly states that it's an "end-of-time" event. Rather, it states (in the text itself) that this enthronement scene takes place when the Son comes in glory, which, as we have seen in this series, can only refer to the event of AD70 when the Old Covenant administration (and those sitting in "Moses' seat" within it) finally vanished away and was made completely obsolete (Hebrews 8:13).

Secondarily, the scenario describes the Son sitting on "his glorious throne", which describes a host of allusions to the absolute reign of Israel's promised Messiah. Unless we presume (erroneously) that this is describing an event in our future, at the so-called "end of the world" or "end of time", there is no reason to view this scenario as anything other than the definitive reign of Christ over all the earth, which began in the first century and was demonstrated definitively as promised in the end of the Old Covenant in AD70. 

Third of all, it is well within the boundaries of biblical symbolism to imagine this scenario of Jesus enthroned as taking place within the heavenly realm, and not on earth at all. A clue given to us is the language about gathering and separating nations before him. Such a description does not need to entail a gathering of all people from the beginning of time to the end of time, let alone at a location on earth. Indeed, in its close historical context, it is far more likely to envision this gathering of all peoples to describe all those in covenant with God who spread throughout the nations within the first century, those faithful and unfaithful witnesses who had died and descended to "the dead ones" in Hades/Sheol, awaiting vindication/judgment from the living and true God of all times and all locations on earth. In other words, this "final judgment" scene is likely describing, in it's first century Messianic context, a gathering of people, faithful and unfaithful, who had died prior to and during AD70 while the reign of the Old Covenant administration was still in place. 

Yes, I said that correctly. There is no reason to describe this gathering and separating as a description of a singular, "final judgment" of all people at the end of all time. Rather, in context, it is exponentially more likely to be describing the time of the promised end in which the New Covenant would be administered throughout the world without hindrance by those insisting upon life under the Old Covenant administration. 

As I have noted throughout my exposition of Matthew's Gospel,  Jesus was very clear about "the end" taking place in that generation. The harvest where reaping and gathering takes place is in "the end of the age," the same "end" described throughout this Sermon on the Mount and elsewhere (e.g. I Cor 10:11; Heb 9:26).

Remembrances of Wilma

Below is a very brief speech I gave at my Grandmother's recent funeral service during the time when family and friends went up to the podium to offer any remembrances they had of Wilma:

I want to share with you a few things about Wilma that left a huge impression upon my life. (And for those of you who don't know, I am Wilma and Cyril's second oldest grandson.) 

The first thing about Wilma that I remember is that she radiated generosity, thoughtfulness, loyalty, and love--so much so, in fact, that as I reflected upon the last few days since hearing about Wilma falling asleep in the Lord, it dawned on me just how difficult all people are to love. In general, I think all people are difficult to love. I am difficult to love. All of us here, and also those in this wide world around us, are difficult to love. And Wilma was no perfect exception to that rule. Nonetheless, because of Wilma's generosity, thoughtfulness, loyalty, and love--virtues which all of us here know were characteristic of her--she was that rare someone who I found difficult to not love. In 35 years of knowing the real and raw person of Wilma, her virtues vastly outshined what makes ordinary people difficult to love.  

In all these years I have had many memories with Wilma, from conversations in person and many phone calls, to lots of hand-written cards mailed to my doorstep. (Those of you who ever received a card from her know that she would always personally address the recipient, and never forget to include a passage or two or three from the Scriptures to meditate upon, even as she had done while writing the card.) Again, as I was reflecting this week, I realized that it is really common to think of people you spend a lot of time with as "good" people. As memories are shared and piled up together over time with particular people you enjoy, it's common to think of them as good people. But you know you have found a rare gem when you can look back and identify someone as wise. And from my perspective, Wilma is one of them. It was as though proverbial Wisdom flowed through her veins. The wisdom of God's word was so obviously dear to her that in every single encounter with her that I can remember, I can't honestly describe them as being merely with a good person. Wilma was far more than good. She had what James describes as the "wisdom from above." And that seems, at least to me, to be an increasingly rare description of how people are remembered in these days. 

This brings me to another aspect in which Wilma left a significant impression: God's handwriting was written large through her life. The apostle Paul mentions that Christians ought to be living epistles read by all men. I have known a lot of Christians throughout my life, and, sadly, I am not very comfortable describing the majority of them as living epistles. At best, most of whom I know are living chapters or verses. Not Wilma though. She was living epistles (plural). She made room for God to speak into every area of her life. And she listened. She seriously considered it, wrestling with it and submitting to it.  

Equally beautiful was her willingness to make room for others as well. Through her life, countless numbers of people were invited to taste and see how good the Lord is. Through her thoughtfulness, generosity, loyalty, and love, people came to know God. By imbibing and indwelling the wise life--and not merely the good life--countless people who encountered her encountered true life in Christ. God's handwriting was indeed written large through her life.  

Finally, I just want to share with you all that, in my eyes, Wilma was a Saint. By God's grace, she was a saint. Little did I know, as a small child, that I sat on the lap of a Saint. Books were read to me by a Saint. Hand-written letters and birthday cards were written to me by a Saint. Grocery shopping, car riding, movie watching, church gathering, meal preparing, and perhaps most memorable of all--holiday feasting--were all shared with a Saint. And as I like to think about all the Saints who I know for certain are with the Lord in glory, I can confidently share with us all that because of her beautiful and faithful life lived in Christ, Wilma is feasting at a better table now. Thanks be to God.

Living Epistle (A poem for Wilma)

As I write these things my Grandmother, Wilma, is dying. She has reached the point of no return. There is no hope in her being miraculously preserved to live a handful of more years in her mortal body. She has already lived past ninety years. Now she is hospitalized, and unresponsive, yet still alive as of right now. She will die.

I love Wilma. She radiated God's generosity, thoughtfulness, and loyal love. As the only Grandmother I ever knew (my birth mother's side being entirely unknown to me), proverbial Wisdom echoed in every room she resided, in every phone call, in every note and hand-written card. God's handwriting was written large through her life. A "Living Epistle" read by all, is an apt description of all memories I have of her.

I spoke with her last week on the phone. I'm so very glad I answered the phone that day. She lives very far away from me, but very soon she will be nearer than most Christians realize, being with Eternal Life, Who is much nearer than most realize. 

I am at peace with her impending death. Death actually isn't her end. It is for many of us, but certainly not hers. She will continue to live beyond the moment her frail, mortal body "gives up" its life. She will continue to live beyond mortal death because, in Christ, there is no mortality, no eternal death. There is only eternal life, because Christ is God, and only in God is life-eternal, and only through Jesus Christ our God has eternal death been defeated and eternal life secured. Outside of Christ, there is just this mortal life, and just this mortal death. I'm not the judge of those outside of Christ. I'm not even the judge of those inside of Christ. I'm merely expressing, with absolute certainty, that Wilma's life has testified, and continues witnessing to participation in Eternal Life, here and now, and not in eternal death. 

"In dying, you shall die" was the warning given to human life. In Jesus, the resurrected Christ, there is no more warning--only blessing--saying, "In dying, you shall be raised with Me to life."

So then, what else could I say, given my convictions about the life and death of my grandmother? 

Well, I actually have a poem I wrote recently, inspired by a Byzantine hymn that is sung during Saturday morning lenten prayer services in the Byzantine Catholic Church, that I'd like to share, too. Consider it a meditation on what I have noted above, and a pattern of thoughts woven through many of my convictions, hopes, and dreams, all keeping my thoughts in balance in the midst of life's real turmoils:

In dying you will die

Do good

In dying you will die

Don't ask why

Do good

Don't ask why

Don't question who

Do good

Don't question who

There are no but's

Do good

There are no but's

Don't pretend to know better

Do good

Don't pretend to know better

Don't deflect

Don't ignore

Just do good

How, you ask? 

Imagine God

Becoming human

So that you can become divine

Participating

Sharing

Communing 

In the Divine Life

For ever

And ever

Who fashioned you 

Out of nothingness

With the work of His hands

Who honored you 

With the Divine Image 

The likeness of Unutterable Glory.

Whose loyal love cleanses you

Whose homeland of your heart’s desire 

Is bestowed on you

Loving to Know

What does it take?
...
To reach the point of no return
To say, I can't anymore
I don't even want to anymore
I need You
I want You
For ever more than now
Don't fix things for me—Fix me
Fix all of me or none of me
In Your mercy exact justice
I trust Your judgment—I don't trust mine

I deserve it
What ever that is 

I'm more than a fool
Lost without You
Leading others astray from the Holy
Feet running swiftly toward the void
None of my paths are peace
I only know how to survive
And not very well
When You serve me justice I will need more 

That stream which I poisoned

How can it be purified?
I don't trust my passions
I don't trust in flesh anymore

I used You as my crutch 

I polluted wells
For fun or out of spite
You were elevator music to me
I never had to learn Your rhythm
You were just there in the background

For my listening pleasure
Or to annoy me
As evil as that sounds
It's true 

Now I don't want to live without You
Have mercy on me
According to the multitude of Your tender mercies

Heal my soul
For I have sinned against You
Give me life or give me death
I know what I deserve
Whatever You choose
Do so for the sake of Your name alone
My name isn't worthy
Uproot and plant anew
Kill and make alive

As You wish

Thy will be done
Not mine
I just want what You want

Happy is he that findeth

Happy is he that getteth

Happy is he that retaineth

Happy is he
...
What must I do now? 

Filling the Void

Wisdom hurts 

Like a broken nose

It cannot be touched lightly

Its damage is done

It can’t be unspoken

Rewinding the clock doesn’t heal its bruising

Even without batteries it keeps ticking

Only more can be spoken 

Even its silence is speech 

Beware of its soft words 

Many bones are broken by them

Its quietude is as cloaked daggers

That which has been done in silence is worthy of the Father

To possess this Word is to hear its silence

For it acts through what is spoken

And is known through its silence

Its mysteries were loudly proclaimed

Yet are accomplished in the silence of God

Matthew 11:29

Expose the dishonest

Listen to the self-deceived

Confront the rebel

Support the surrendered

Bring low the pride of the haughty

Offer forgiveness for the guilt-crushed

Abolish the schemes of nations

Provide hope for the despairing 
Humble the exalted

Exalt the humble

Ransom the prisoners

Comfort the discouraged

Impoverish those rich by corruption

Enrich the poor in spirit

Turn back those who wander

Destroy and make alive

Die for the sake of others

Practice resurrection
Like Jesus

St Maximos the Confessor & God wisely dividing the ages

The following excerpt is from a very recent translation of St Maximos the Confessor’s (ca. 580-662) Responses to Thalassios, the Libyan abbot of a monastic community, probably in Carthage, whose letter to Maximos contained a lengthy series of questions, requesting written interpretations (p. 8).

What is presented below is (at least in my own estimation) one of the most profound responses to the eschatological question, “If God in the coming ages will show his riches (Ephesians 2:7), how is it that the ends of the ages have come upon us (I Corinthians 10:11)?”

Here is the written response by St Maximos:

He who brought all visible and invisible creation into being solely through the momentum of His will, had in His good counsel determined—before all ages and even before the very genesis of created beings—an ineffably good plan for his creations. And this plan was for Him to be mingled, without change, with human nature through a true union according to hypostasis, uniting human nature, without alteration, to Himself, so that He would become man—in a manner known to Him—and at the same time make man God through union with Himself, and thus He wisely divided the ages, determining that some would be for the activity of His becoming man, and others for the activity of making man God.  

Thus, inasmuch as the actual “ends of the ages” predetermined for Him to become man “have come upon us”—since the divine purpose of the Incarnation has been fulfilled through the events themselves—the divine Apostle, having carefully examined this, and seeing that the end of the ages intended for God to become man had come about through the very Incarnation of the Word of God, says: “The ends of the ages have come upon us”—not simply “the ages” as we ordinarily understand them, but clearly those which, intended for the actualization of the mystery of embodiment, have reached their proper limit, according to the purpose of God. 

Since, then, the “end of the ages”, predetermined according to God’s purpose to become man, “has come upon us”—inasmuch as God has in truth actualized and brought to completion His own perfect Incarnation—we must henceforth await those other ages that are to come for the actualization of the mystical and ineffable divinization of human beings, in which "God will show the overflowing riches of His goodness to us,” completely and actively effecting divinization in those who are worthy. For if He Himself reached the limit of his mystical activity of becoming man,—becoming like us in every way but without sin, and having descended into the lowermost parts of the earth to where the tyranny of sin had driven man—then there will certainly also be a limit of God’s mystical activity for the divinization of man in every way (with the obvious sole exception of any identification of man with God’s essence), making man like Himself and raising him beyond all the heavens, to where the natural grandeur of grace dwells and calls fallen man through the infinity of goodness. And this is what the great Apostle mystically teaches when he says: “in the ages to come, the overflowing riches of God’s goodness will be shown to us.”1

1. St Maximos the Confessor, On Difficulties in Sacred Scripture: The Responses to Thalassios 

(The Fathers of the Church, Volume 136), Translated by Fr Maximos Constas; Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 2018; pp. 150-151

John 3:20

Light investing the saint

crowns the virtues with dispassion

fulfills the desires beyond expectation

chases away all distracting passions

banishes the powers of darkness

opens up the depths of oracles 

makes the saint himself scripture

giving boldness before God

receiving the robe that Human Life lost

interceding on behalf of others

consuming the stains of sin

radiating the presence of the age to come

shimmering the brilliance of its pledge of immortality

Light invests the saint

My Lady

At nights and at the dawn of day, I bow before the great radiance of the light of your loveliness
Light unfailing you allowed to dawn upon me, letting me tell everyone of your wonders with fitting loyalty, each one in their proper season
In the name of the father who made you a jewel of his heart, and of the son who veiled himself with your flesh, and of the spirit whose hovering over you brought sweet and glorious new creation, I sing to you
Sacrifice I offer you, my lady, even the fullness of praise that my heart can conceive, and my mind able to perform
O lady, my garden that brings forth aromatic herbs and pleasant aromas, my summer and spring, you are my portico of prayer, my festoon of heavenliness
Night and day I beseech you, my lady, that I may enter your sanctuary, where I am protected from the whispering of those who malign and slander, and find rest from the tongue of the proud who find fault in me

Image, Likeness, and Nature

Recently I was involved in a discussion about social justice at an eastern catholic monastery. That discussion was immensely fruitful, filling in the void of many things I've considered over the years, as well as revitalizing older, more traditional considerations I had abandoned over the years in my quest for truth. One of the new considerations arising out of that discussion involved human nature, what that is exactly, and how it relates to the Gospel of Jesus Christ wherein all things, including human nature, are restored. This post is a result of such considerations.

What is human nature, and how is that "nature" restored according to the Gospel of Jesus Christ? 

Human “nature” is a description of dynamic capacities. Western Christianity has emphasized that humankind is made in the image of God, describing it with a more scientific addendum called “nature,” being classified alongside the “nature” of all other animal species. This, however, is unfortunate because it appears to be almost completely disconnected from its historic usage, especially that contained within the wide stream of Eastern Christianity. 

Within the various expressions of Eastern Christian thought, it can be argued that to speak of human “nature” at all is to describe an abstraction, a potential. Unlike modern scientific categorization, human “nature” is unique precisely because its primary analog is not mammalians, or even any other creature; its primary analog is the incarnate Son of God. Human “nature” consists not only of being made as God’s image (which is technically more accurate than saying man is made “in” the image), but also after God’s likeness, the likeness of heavenly being itself (Gen 1:26; c.f. Gen 5:1,3 where the language is intentionally inverted, showing Adam “fathering a son” as his own likeness, after his image, thus implying his attempt to restore Seth to the image of God through likeness with his fathering). 

Also, to be found within the tradition of Eastern Christianity is discussion about the uniqueness of human “nature” needing to become realized, not only rationally, but holistically in all actions and contemplation through the assent of a willing subject. Human “nature” necessitates a certain capacity for the reception of God, and such capacity is not a mere auxiliary that can be lost, a kind of addendum, but rather is definitive of human “nature” itself. Unless a human being is in communion with God, actively participating in the Divine life, that person can become and remain less than fully human, even though that person remains fully the image of God throughout one’s mortal existence. Human “nature” within Eastern expressions of the faith, therefore, presuppose this image and likeness of God. In other words, there exists an understanding and dialog about all mortal humanity existing immutably as the image of God, yet with a mutable likeness of God. To the degree that human “nature” ceases to actively participate in the Divine life of God, it ceases to develop and mature in God’s likeness as well; it ceases to share in the glory that it was created to become, and therefore disqualifies itself from eternal life. For some—certainly not most, or all—this mortal life will be the best life in which they exist and image their Creator.

Contemplating such a view of human “nature” also presupposes the reality of God’s grace bestowed. Within the Roman Catholic tradition, mankind was created before “the Fall” with a donum superadditum, a gracious gift of capacity “over and added” to the human capacity left to all mankind after “the Fall”, a gracious gift that must be restored throughout one’s life in order to reach God. (The equivalent of this original “gift” from an Eastern perspective is the “likeness” described above.) Unfortunately, such distinctions are not considered to be helpful for Western conceptions of the human constitution, especially those contained within Protestant confessionalism, which rely heavily on image-bearing through forensic appropriation. However, within the stream of Eastern Christianity, human “nature” presupposes that all humanity, pre and post “fall”, have received grace, and all are favored by being made in the image and likeness of the One who made it. All are born “naturally” with the capacity to receive God, but not all choose to appropriate it through likeness with God. Therefore, to become devoid of grace is to become “unnatural,” sub-human. Human life, by design, implies a necessary motion and growth into the appropriation of the life of the Creator, who is both infinite and eternal, thereby allowing participation in life with Him without end or limitation. Human life devoid of God’s graces results in an unfortunate detachment and distancing away from participation in the Divine life, now and forever. In other words, a life devoid of Grace is a reality, and not merely a potential, for Eastern Catholic thought. And although, from an Eastern perspective, it is not preferred to describe man as losing a gift that was added to him before he fell (as in the Western Catholic trajectory of thought), the most important emphasis of such trajectories of language is to note that man, as originally created, was threatened to lose participation in the Divine life of God itself, at that time and for all eternity thereafter. The Gospel of God dotted throughout the landscape of humanity was, of course, the assurance that human “nature” could and would be restored for all eternity. It was assurance of being raised from the dead-ones in Sheol/Hades, and also the end of Death and Hades itself. How that was to occur was eventually revealed with greater clarity, albeit in “shadows” of the coming reality, through the Divine administration given to Israel, i.e. the Old Covenant.

The historical and eschatological figures known to us in Tradition as “Adam” and “Eve” (narrated symbolically in both the Hebrew and Greek Scriptures as “Human Life”) illustrate this much. They were not created to know (in the intimate, holistic sense of knowing) eternal death, the permanent unraveling of and distancing from the Creator into non-being. The path of knowing intended for them was rather voluntary submission to the divine will, developing into a community of harmony with their Creator, thereby ascending further up the ladder of communion with him, an ever increasing appropriation of God-likeness, a perpetual increase in sharing and maturing thorough the uncreated glory of God. Human life was designed to participate forever in this Divine light and life. Therefore, within Eastern thought, to contemplate what it means to become fully human is to contemplate motion toward God, an ascension with God, and in a mystical eschatological sense (both prior to and after the incarnation and resurrection) to anticipate eternal life through the promised life of the Son of God, thereby sharing increasingly in that glory both now and forever. 

We might, however, do better than most Western forensic notions of restoring human “nature” by considering that God identifies our nature as being fully human only when it is penetrated wholly, body and soul, by the glory of the resurrection of Jesus, our savior, who himself was “plan A”, so to speak, and not an addendum to God’s predestined plan for human glory. In other words, it is favorable to perceive that all human life from the very beginning was created with the potential for infinite maturation in likeness with God, and is called to choose that life as freely as God offers it, to make his own life subsist in that deepest reality, and in such choosing, discover the presence of, and enter into communion with his Creator, now and forever.

At this point it may be suggested that this Eastern trajectory of thought is not helpful or accurate to the “facts” of holy Scripture, for human nature is, allegedly, demonstrably “evil.” Evil, within such a presumptuous framework of language, is considered a “thing” attached to or infused with nature, permeating its essence. But from within the variety of Eastern Catholic perspectives, “evil” is not an attribute of nature, or even “natural” per se. “Evil” is the way we humans, made as God’s image and after God’s likeness, describe a product of choice, a choice relating with human life that has the capacity to participate and mature in the Divine life, both now and forever. “Evil” can also be considered sociologically as an inclination of will contrary to the Divine will, an inclination subject toward that which is not, as apposed to God, who is the very ground and source of all being itself (i.e. what “is”). The “evil” which Christians are prone to describe in their daily lives is woven throughout the narratives of holy Scriptures, and is revealed in a variety of ways through creation as well, but especially and dramatically in the Torah as transgression of participation in the Divine life. 

To speak of the world or God’s creation as being evil in an ontological sense is another byproduct of misunderstanding or misusing the language of evil “nature”. Referring to the world as evil, and not merely an evil “age” or generation, is simply mistaken. However, to describe human “nature” as “evil” is even more problematic, for it disregards the various and punctiliar stages of “Adamic” life recorded throughout the Scriptures that have clearly detached from participation in the Divine life, and instead have (unfortunately) co-opted the Scriptural participatory narrative with an overly generalized and all-pervasive “nature” that, after the Fall, could never have received God, nor can still, except by super-added grace. By this historical co-opting, “being evil” (at least, forensically) is assumed to be the truth everywhere and at all times (at least, for those who are not, theoretically, “forensically” united with God). For both Paul and Eastern Catholic Christianity, we find something very different. We find participation in the Divine life as essential to understanding the history of humanity and the gloriously cosmic restoration of human life through the promised incarnation and resurrection. 

All of creation, Paul says, has been subjected unwillingly to the corruption of humanity for whom it had been created, and such was decided by God “in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Rom. 8:20). Such “corruption”, according to Paul, indicates this created capacity of all human beings that we’ve been describing from the beginning. Corruption is as equally holistic in Paul’s thought as glorification is. Corruption, therefore, describes not only the definitive end of this mortal existence, i.e. eternal death and non-being, but also the disordered desires that accompany a mind fixated on the flesh—a mind enveloped within mortal existence in such a way that it is distanced enough from communion with eternal glory, and thereby hostile to God, and because of such cannot submit to God’s instruction and thereby please Him (Rom. 8:6-8). Nevertheless, through the promised incarnation, human “nature” has been, and continues to be, restored holistically.

One might then ask, ‘What are we to do with the statements of Paul and other Scriptures that seem to describe all of humanity fixated on the flesh?’ The answer to that question is actually quite simple: take them seriously, and interpret them within their own limited historical context. Historically, it would have been impossible and counterproductive for Paul to presume omniscience for all, especially the “nature” of all, for his letters clearly reflect a limited knowledge base, which allows for both human free will and Divine intervention. Paul seems, rather, to be interested in describing the generation in which he lived, that generation within the “last days” of the Old Covenant administration. He comments frequently about first century Israel’s antiChristian activities being thoroughly corrupt, so much so that Jesus promised to come and destroy their idolatrous temple to bring about peace for the world and allow salvation for all through such terrible judgments. That generation, according to Paul, was even worse than previous generations of Israel’s history that also had corrupted themselves and been judged by the Lord. But not all generations had become thoroughly corrupt. The Scriptures clearly teach cycles of reform. Not perfect reform, but blessed reform, to be sure; and such reform always necessitated drawing near to the Lord in his holy House, and fixating their minds on the things of God’s Spirit, drawing near to Him who worked miracles and wonders in their midst, Who secured the promise of future resurrection from the dead-ones for them. Such a hope was surely taught, but sadly faded away in numerous generations as the people increasingly fell away again and again into the bondage of fleshly corruption. The Gospel of Jesus Christ, however, reverses such misfortunes, primarily through his actual resurrection from the dead-ones and the subsequent outpouring of his Holy Spirit. After Pentecost, quite literally the whole world began to change. 

The Old Covenant had begun to become obsolete, and thereby was ready to vanish away, the promised “end” of which occurred in AD 70 with the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple, as well as Hades and its power over death, leaving only the New Covenant administration of eternal life in Christ. Under the New Covenant, all nations are being drawn into the hope which is ultimately contained in the resurrected life of Christ alone. Under the new Covenant, all nations are being drawn into the Body of Christ, in which absolute assurance of salvation is found, and participation in the Divine life is manifest. Outside of Christ and his Body there is no absolute assurance, only relative assurance, filled with doubts and plagued with autonomous reasoning. However confident one’s own faith or hope in “afterlife” might be, it is most assuredly subject to scrutiny apart from participation in the embodied life of Christ’s Body. For God did not pour out his Spirit in the first century in order to produce a copy of himself in paperback. Rather, it was to produce living epistles read by all men. The deposit of faith and life in Christ is contained in the pillar and ground of the truth: the Church (1 Tim 3:15). That doesn’t mean that all human beings discovered outside of the Christian Church cannot or will not ultimately be saved by Jesus and granted eternal life. What it means is that all human beings outside of the Church can only be saved by Jesus, for he alone is the first fruit of resurrection, the absolute assurance of which is received through participation in the Divine life of his Body, the Church. Most unfortunate, however, are those generations in which human beings seek the Church for absolute assurance and yet find absolute confusion and corruption. Such is, sadly, a reality as well; and such corruption will be judged by Jesus in history, leaving the many tender mercies of our God to be granted unto those outside, and not inside, such assemblies.

Much more needs to be said about that, but most importantly it must be clearly stated that the Christian Church is the pillar and foundation of God’s truth revealed to mankind. All human beings, even those outside the Church, have the capacity to receive God and become fully human in union with him. However, with that said, it’s a sad and obvious gamble to remain outside the Body of Christ (even when it seems as if every visible and accessible Christian assembly is thoroughly corrupt), for such a description entails fixation upon life in the flesh, including a false, imaginary, and misleading view away from the Divine life, which ends in death, and not toward life in the Spirit of God who raises the dead, or even the Son of God who became man and was raised and vindicated, who sits enthroned in the heavens, thereby securing life eternal for mankind. 

It is through such activity—living with hope and absolute assurance in the Divine Life—that mankind collectively learns to share in the glory of God, and ascend the ladder of Divinity. Through holiness, the light and life of God permeates the darkness of every domain, of every generation. Such was not possible prior to Pentecost, for it is at Pentecost that the light of eternal life—resurrection life—began to penetrate and illumine the pitch-blackness of Israel’s story and the gloomy shadows across the world. Prior to Pentecost there was only hope that somehow, some way, God would grant eternal life with Him. The so-called underworld of Hades, Sheol, etc. was all that was known and anticipated. However, after Pentecost there was absolute assurance of future resurrection and vindication for all who died in Christ, because God had become man, had died, and was raised from the dead-ones for them. Moreover, in AD 70, the resurrection of all the saints from Hades had been fulfilled. After AD 70 the actualization of eternal life in Christ meant that after their mortal bodies had faded away, their participation in the kingdom of God would be secured. The hope that the Christian Church teaches is not that human beings get to escape “this world” into the next, only to magically wake up on some final day along with all the dead-ones of history and finally escape the despair of mortality forever. They do escape upon death, but not this world. They escape this age, this generation, yet they continue to live in and with this world, in this kingdom of God where heaven and earth have already joined under the New Covenant, being active in its continual renewal and reform, assisting all of human life in its motion toward God as it was originally created to be. In Christ the great reversal has begun. The dynamics of human “nature”, including its image and likeness, are being restored in union with God, sharing in the glory that it was created to become, both now and forever.