The Life in Christ

The life in Christ is born in this present life and receives its beginnings here, but it is brought to perfection in the age to come, when we arrive at that day. Neither can this present life fully implant it in the souls of human beings, nor can the future life do so for those who have not received its beginnings here. For in the present life, the poor flesh casts its shadow, along with the cloud and corruption that come from it, which "cannot inherit incorruption." Hence Paul considered that departing would be far better for being with Christ: "To depart," he says, "and to be with Christ is far better." And as for the age to come, those whom it finds not possessing the faculties and senses needed for that life will gain nothing toward blessedness; rather, dead and wretched, they will inhabit that blessed and immortal world. The reason is that the light rises and the sun offers its pure ray, but at that point no eye can be fashioned; and the fragrance of the Spirit is poured out abundantly and fills all things, but no one who does not already possess the sense of smell can receive it.

It is possible for the "friends" of the Son of God to share in the mysteries on that day, and to learn from Him "what He heard from the Father," but they must arrive as His friends and as those who "have ears." For it is not possible for friendship to be established there, or for the ear to be opened, or for the wedding garment to be prepared, or for the other things to be made ready that are needed for that bridal chamber; rather, this present life is the workshop for all of these. And for those who did not acquire them before departing, there is nothing in common with that life. The five virgins and the man called to the wedding feast bear witness to this, for they came without having them, unable to obtain either oil or a garment. In short, this world labors in birth with the inner "new man created according to God," and having been formed and shaped here, he is thus born perfect into that perfect and ageless world.

For just as nature prepares the embryo, while it is still in its dark and fluid existence, for life in the light, and it is formed as if according to the pattern of the life that will receive it, in the same way it is also with the saints. And this is what the Apostle Paul meant when he wrote to the Galatians: "My little children, for whom I labor in birth again until Christ is formed in you." Nevertheless, embryos could never come to any perception of this present life, whereas for the blessed there are many intimations of the things to come even in the present. The reason is that for embryos this life is not yet present but is strictly future, for no ray of light has entered those regions, nor anything else of what constitutes this life. But with us it is no longer so; rather, that future life has been, as it were, poured into and mingled with this present one. That Sun has risen upon us too in His love for mankind, and the heavenly myrrh has been poured out in these foul-smelling regions, and "the bread of angels has been given to human beings as well."

That in the present life the saints live the life in Christ. For these reasons, then, it is possible for the saints in the present not merely to be disposed and prepared for that life, but already to live and act according to it. "Lay hold on eternal life," Paul writes to Timothy. And: "It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me." And the divine Ignatius says: "There is living water speaking within me." And Scripture is full of many such sayings.

Beyond all these things, when Life itself promises to be with the saints forever—for he says, "Behold, I am with you all the days until the consummation of the age"—what else should one conclude? For he did not cast the seeds of life upon the earth and hurl the fire and the sword and then immediately depart, leaving it to human beings to make them sprout and nourish them, to kindle the fire and wield the sword. Rather, he himself is truly present, "working in us both to will and to work," as the blessed Paul said. He himself kindles and applies the fire; he himself is the one who holds the sword; and in short, "the axe shall not be glorified apart from the one who lifts it." And where the Good One is not present, nothing good can come to be.

And yet the Lord did not promise merely to be present with the saints, but also to abide with them, and—what is greater still—to make His abode in them. And why do I say this, when He is said to be united to them with such love for humanity that He is one spirit with them? For "he who is joined to the Lord is one spirit," and "that you may be one body and one spirit, just as you were born"—these are the words of Paul.

For just as God's love for humanity is ineffable, and his love for our race surpasses human reason and befits the divine goodness alone—for this is "the peace of God which surpasses all understanding"—so too it follows that his union with those whom he loves is beyond every union that anyone could conceive, and admits of no comparison.

For this reason Scripture also required many illustrations in order to be able to indicate that union, since no single one sufficed. At one point it introduces an inhabitant and a house, at another a vine and a branch; now a marriage, now members and a head—yet none of these is equal to that union, for it is impossible from these to attain the truth with precision. For above all, the union must correspond to the love; and what could be equal to the divine love?

Furthermore, the things that seem most of all to demonstrate closeness and unity are marriage and the harmony of the members with the head. Yet these fall immensely short and are far from revealing the reality. For marriage could not unite in such a way that those joined together exist and live in one another—which is precisely what happens with Christ and the Church. Hence the divine apostle, having spoken of marriage—"This mystery is great"—added, "but I speak with reference to Christ and the Church," showing that it is not this marriage but that one he regards with wonder. As for the members, they are joined to the head and live by virtue of being joined, and when severed they die. Yet even these appear to be united to Christ more than to their own head, and to live by him more than by their harmony with it.

And this is evident from the blessed martyrs, who endured the one gladly but could not bear even to hear of the other: as members they laid down their head with pleasure, yet from Christ they could not separate even so far as a word. And I have not yet mentioned the most remarkable thing. For what could be more closely joined to anything than a thing is to itself? Yet even this unity falls short of that union.

The saints are united with Christ more than with themselves. For each of the blessed spirits is one and the same with itself, yet is joined to the Savior more than to itself, for it loves Him more than itself. And Paul will bear witness to this statement, praying "to be anathema from Christ" for the salvation of the Jews, so that an increase of glory might come to Him. If the love of human beings is so great, the divine love cannot even be reckoned. For if the wicked have shown such gratitude, what must be said of that goodness? Since, then, the love is so surpassing, it follows that the union to which it has driven those who love must also place human understanding far below, so that it cannot even be raised up to serve as an illustration. But let us consider the matter in the following way as well.

Though there are many things with which we must keep company throughout life—air, light, food, clothing, the very powers and members belonging to our nature—it happens that no one of all these is used and present at every moment and for every purpose. Rather, now one thing and now another serves us according to the need at hand, with different things helping at different times. For we put on a garment, but it cannot be food; when we need a meal, we must seek something else. Light does not enable us to breathe, and air cannot serve us in place of a ray of light. And we are not always present to the activities of our senses and members, nor do we always make use of them; sometimes even the eye and the hand are idle when we need to hear. When we wish to touch, the hand will suffice, but it can no longer serve for smelling, hearing, or seeing; rather, leaving it aside, we turn to another faculty.

The Savior is so constantly and in every way present to those who live in him that he supplies their every need, and is all things to them, and does not allow them to look toward anything else at all or to seek anything from elsewhere. For there is nothing they might need that he himself is not to the saints. He both begets and gives growth and nourishes, and is light and breath. He fashions for them an eye—by himself; he illumines again by himself; and he grants them to see himself. Being the nourisher, he is also the nourishment; he himself is the one who provides "the bread of life," and he himself is what he provides. He is life to those who live, fragrance to those who breathe, and a garment to those who wish to be clothed. Moreover, he himself is that by which we are able to walk, and he himself is the way, and beyond that, the resting place along the way and its destination. We are the members; he is the head. When it is necessary to struggle, he struggles alongside us; when we distinguish ourselves, he is the judge of the contest; when we are victorious, he is at once the crown.

Thus from every side he turns us back to himself, and does not allow the nous to attend to any other thing, nor to conceive desire for any being whatsoever. For if we direct our longing in this direction, he himself halts it and gives it rest; and if in that direction, again it is he; and if in yet another, he holds that road too, and captures us as we pass by. "If I ascend into heaven, you are there," it says; "if I descend into Hades, you are present; if I take up my wings at dawn and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall guide me and your right hand shall hold me"—by a wondrous compulsion and a love-filled tyranny, drawing us to himself alone and binding us to himself alone. And I believe this is the compulsion by which he drove into the house and the feast those whom he had invited, saying to the servant, "Compel them to come in, so that my house may be filled."

Very well. That the life in Christ belongs not to the future only, but is already present to the saints in this present time—who live according to it and exercise its activity—is manifest from what has been said. But whence it is possible so to live and, as Paul says, to "walk in newness of life"—I mean, what they do by which Christ is thus joined and grafted to them (I do not know what else one ought to call it)—this must be spoken of next in order.

In what manner the life in Christ is established in us: that it comes from the initiation into the sacred mysteries of baptism, chrismation, and the eucharist. Some of this, then, comes from God, and some from our own effort; the one is purely His work, while the other involves our own earnest striving as well. Or rather, so much is contributed on our part only as to endure the grace and not betray the treasure, nor extinguish the lamp already kindled—that is, not to introduce anything contrary to life or anything that gives birth to death. For every human good and every virtue tends toward this end: that one not thrust the sword against oneself, nor flee from blessedness, nor shake the crowns from one's own head.

As for the very essence of life itself, Christ himself, being present, plants it in our souls in some ineffable manner. For he is truly present and sustains the beginnings of life that he himself bestowed when he came among us. Yet he is present not as he was at first—sharing in our daily life, gatherings, and conversations—but in another, better, and more perfect way, by which we become of one body with him, sharers in his life, members of him, and whatever else tends toward this end. For just as the love of humanity is unspeakable, by which he was moved to love his bitterest enemies and to deem them worthy of the greatest graces, and just as the union by which he joined himself to those he loved surpasses every image and every name, so too the manner in which he is present and does good is wondrous and befitting him alone who "does wondrous things."