Homily XVI. On Great and Holy Saturday #

By St. Gregory Palamas

The eternal and ineffable Word of God, the Almighty and Omnipotent Son, could, even without taking on flesh, have delivered humankind from corruption, death, and bondage to the devil—for all things are upheld by the word of His power, and all creation is subject to His divine authority. As Job says, “Nothing is impossible for Him” (Job 42:2). For the power of the Creator cannot be withstood by any created force, and nothing is stronger than the Almighty.

Yet the method chosen—namely, the Incarnation of the Word—was more fitting to our nature and weakness, and more appropriate for the One who accomplished our salvation, for it encompassed also the principle of divine justice, without which God accomplishes nothing. As the Psalmist proclaims, “God is righteous and loves righteousness, and there is no injustice in Him” (Psalm 10:7).

Now man, having in the beginning justly been abandoned by God—since he was the first to abandon God and voluntarily ran to the prince of evil, the devil, trusting in his deceitful counsel which opposed the commandment of God—was justly handed over to him. Thus, through the envy of the evil one, and by the just permission of the Good One, death entered the world. This death, due to the excessive wickedness of the prince of evil, became twofold: it was not only natural but also, through his working, all death became violent.

Therefore, since we were justly delivered into the bondage of the devil and of death, it was necessary that our restoration to freedom and life also be accomplished by God according to the principle of righteousness. Not only was man handed over to the devil through divine justice, but the devil himself, having cast away righteousness, became unlawfully desirous of power and dominion—or rather, tyranny—opposing justice and acting violently against man.

It was fitting, then, that God should first bring low the devil through the principle of justice—since he had violated it—and only afterward by power, on the day of the Resurrection and of the Final Judgment. For this is the most fitting order: that justice precedes power, and that such is the mark of truly divine and good rule—not of tyranny, wherein justice may only follow power.

There is, then, a kind of parallel: just as the devil, from the beginning a murderer of man, rose up against us through envy and hatred, so the Author of life was moved for our sake by the abundance of His love and goodness. As the one unlawfully sought the destruction of God’s creature, so the Creator desired strongly to save the work of His own hands. As the devil acted through injustice and deceit to gain a victory and bring about man’s fall, so the Redeemer, by righteousness and wisdom, achieved total victory over the prince of evil and brought about the renewal of His creation.

So then, though God could have acted by sheer power, He did not do so, but instead acted in a manner befitting Himself—by the principle of justice. In this way, justice itself was glorified, precisely because it was preferred by the One who holds invincible power. And it was also fitting to instruct mankind, that they should now, in this present age of corruption, practice righteousness through their deeds, so that in the age of immortality, having received power, they might possess it unshakably.

Moreover, it was necessary that the one who had been defeated should become the victor over the one who had conquered, and that the deceiver should be outwitted. For this, it was absolutely necessary that a man be without sin. But this was impossible. For Scripture says, “No one is without sin, even if his life be but a single day” (Job 14:4–5), and, “Who can say, I have made my heart clean?” (Proverbs 20:9). No one is without sin—except God alone.

Therefore, the One who is from God, the Word of God—eternally begotten of the Father, and ever dwelling in Him (for it is impossible and inconceivable to imagine God ever without His Word), and one with Him, being truly God—just as sunlight is not a light from another source, but the light of the sun itself, and just as a ray is not the manifestation of another sun, but proceeds from this one—so too the only sinless One, the Son and Word of God, became the Son of Man: unchangeable in His divinity, blameless in His humanity.

As Isaiah had foretold, “He did no sin, neither was deceit found in His mouth” (Isaiah 53:9). Not only this, but He alone was not conceived in iniquity, nor carried in sin in the womb, as David testifies—not only of himself, but truly of every man (cf. Psalm 50:5).

For bodily desire, being independent of the will and clearly hostile to the law of the spirit—though it can be subdued by the will in the chaste and allowed only for the purpose of procreation—nevertheless brings with it condemnation from the beginning, as it is corruption and is rightly called such. It generates us, indeed, for corruption, and is a passionate motion in man who has lost sight of the honor bestowed on our nature by God and has instead become like the beasts.

For this reason, God not only became Man, but was born of a Holy Virgin—a Virgin who was higher than all impure thoughts arising from the flesh—as had been foretold by the Prophets. Her conception was not by the will of the flesh but through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit; the cause of God’s indwelling was the Angelic Annunciation and the Virgin’s faith—not the consent or experience of passionate desire. For such a thing was utterly foreign to the All-Holy Virgin, who by her prayer and spiritual joy had utterly cast it far from her. “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word,” said the undefiled Virgin to the angel who announced glad tidings, and so she conceived and gave birth—so that the Victor over the devil might be a Man who, being also God, took from humanity only the root, that is, human nature itself, but not sin.

He alone was not conceived in iniquity nor carried in the womb in sin—that is, not in fleshly lust or the impure thoughts of a nature stained through transgression—but was in every sense perfectly pure and spotless. And this not because He Himself needed such purity, but because He wisely received it for our sake. Thus He was truly called the New Adam, utterly free from decay, who came to recreate the old Adam in Himself and through Himself, to preserve him forever in youthful vigor, having the power to utterly banish old age.

For even the first Adam, at the beginning, was created by God pure and youthful, until, of his own will, he trusted the devil, turned to carnal pleasures, and fell into the defilement of sin. Then he grew old and entered a condition contrary to nature. Therefore, the Master did not merely renew him with His hand in a miraculous way, but united him to Himself—assuming not only human nature to save it from its fall, but fully clothing Himself with it in an incomprehensible way, joining it to Himself inseparably, being born both God and Man. He was truly born of a woman, in order to exalt that nature which He Himself had created, but which, through the malice of the evil one, had been stolen. And He was born of a Virgin in order to make a new man.

For if He had come from the seed of man, then He would not have been the Author and Captain of a new and ever-youthful life. Being of the old stock, He would not have been able to receive in Himself the fullness of the pure Divinity, nor could He have made His flesh an inexhaustible source of sanctification. But by the superabundance of His power, He washed away the ancestral defilement and became sufficient for the sanctification of all those who would come after.

Therefore, it was not an angel or a man, but the Lord Himself who willed, out of mercy, to save and recreate us—remaining unchangeably God, yet becoming fully Man in our likeness.

Thus, He is born of the Holy Virgin, the only One from eternity free from sin, the only One truly worthy never to be forsaken by God. Before He had known evil, He chose the good, as the prophecy declares. He lived a wholly blameless life, being justly and deservedly free from ever being forsaken by God, for He Himself never forsook God, unlike the first Adam who, having transgressed the commandment, abandoned Him. Rather, He fulfilled every commandment of God, the entire Law of God, and thus was rightfully free from the devil’s dominion.

And in this way, the devil, who once conquered man, is now conquered by a Man. The one who once triumphed over the nature made in the image of God, and in this pride gloried—he is now cast down from that pride. And behold, man rises again from both spiritual and true death—that death which he died immediately upon eating from the forbidden tree, the death with which God threatened Adam and Eve before their disobedience, saying: “On the day ye eat thereof, ye shall surely die” (Genesis 2:17). Therefore, after the transgression, we were also condemned to bodily death, as God then said to Adam: “Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return” (Genesis 3:19).

For just as the departure of the soul from the body is the death of the body, so also the departure of the soul from God—its separation from Him—is the death of the soul. Though the soul remains immortal in a different sense, when separated from God, it becomes putrid and repulsive—more so than a corpse. Yet it is not dissolved after death, like the body, because it possesses a being independent of the composition of elements.

This is evident even in inanimate things: the simpler something is, the more enduring it tends to be. And so, when the rational soul is separated from God, it not only becomes inert in regard to good activity, but also becomes active in evil, wretchedly disordering everything—living still, even in its separation from the body—until, at the judgment, it will be delivered, together with the body in an unbreakable and unbearable union, to eternal torment prepared for the devil and his angels. For they too are dead—though active in evil—because they were justly rejected by God, who is Life itself.

The first to undergo this death was Satan, who was justly cast off from God because of disobedience. Then, through wicked counsel, he drew us into disobedience as well, making us partakers of that same death. But Christ, through His life in the flesh, showing perfect obedience in all His deeds, freed our nature from that death. Yet it was fitting, not only that the human nature He had assumed be made immortal, but that the entire human race be raised to share in that Life which in time will also become the cause of eternal life for the body—just as, conversely, the soul’s death became the cause of bodily death.

Therefore, it was both necessary and beneficial to display this economy of salvation, and to set forth His manner of life as an example for imitation. For God is presented to us not only for contemplation, but also as a model for imitation—both for man and for the good angels. But since we once fell down from the height of this contemplation, depriving ourselves of it by our own doing, the Most High God, in His exceeding love for mankind, descended to us—without in any way diminishing His divinity—and, living among us, offered Himself as an example of the return and ascent to life.

And not only this: He also became our Teacher, showing us by word the path that leads to life, and confirming the words of His teaching with the greatest miracles. In this way, human nature is vindicated—demonstrating that evil (corruption) is not inherent in it. And God is also justified—as not being the cause or creator of any evil. For if the co-eternal Word of the Father had not become incarnate, then it would have seemed that sin was in man by nature, since from the beginning there was no man free of sin. Then it might be supposed that the blame lay with the Creator, as though He were not the Author of good or not Himself good, or worse—that He were an unjust Judge, having condemned man who, from his very creation, was destined for condemnation.

Therefore, God assumed human nature to show to what extent it is free from sin—so pure that it could be united to Him hypostatically, and could coexist eternally with Him in indivisible union. Thus, He demonstrated in reality and for all to see, that God is good and just, the Creator of good and the Overseer (epoptēs) of righteous judgment.

For although Satan and the angels who fell with him were cast down from heaven, yet by the example of the angels who remained faithful to their rank, it is evident that evil is not natural to angels. On the contrary, goodness is natural to them, and their Creator is by nature Good. It is by a righteous judgment that Satan is condemned to everlasting darkness—because by his own will, he became the cause of evil, having turned away from the Beautiful Good. And after Adam fell—having turned from good to evil—there appeared no one who remained unmoved by evil. Since Adam, no man was found free from sin.

Thus appeared the New Adam—Christ—who, as Isaiah says, “did no sin” and did not even think sinfully; how much more, then, did He not speak sinfully, for “there was no deceit found in His mouth” (cf. Is. 53:9). The prophet does not say “from His lips,” but “in His mouth,” to indicate the blamelessness of His thoughts. Elsewhere, Isaiah says that “before He knew evil, He chose the good.” In this way, as mentioned earlier, God was justified and revealed as truly good and the Creator of good works, since man was originally created sinless—and the purity revealed in Christ was attributed by God to human nature itself.

And so, since it was fitting to manifest and make known this ineffable dispensation, John—called symbolically the Forerunner—is sent by God from the wilderness. He baptizes those who come to him and proclaims that they must prepare to believe in the One coming after him, who, he says, “shall baptize them with the Holy Spirit and with fire.” This Coming One, John declares, is greater than himself—greater in the same measure that the Holy Spirit surpasses mere water. For He is the Lord, John testifies, the Maker of all, the Master of angels and men. All people are His spiritual field; the winnowing fan—that is, the ministering powers—are in His hand and under His authority.

And the Forerunner does not speak merely from himself when he testifies that such is the Coming One, but he also brings forth Isaiah, who prophesied Him as the Lord, while declaring himself to be only a servant, sent to prepare His way and to exhort the faithful to make ready for His arrival. He says, “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare ye the way of the Lord” (Lk. 3:4; Jn. 1:23).

He further bears witness that even before he (John) was conceived and born, this One already was. “He who comes after me is made before me,” John says (Jn. 1:15), though Jesus was conceived and born after him. Therefore, if He existed before, it was not in the flesh, but prior to becoming flesh. John adds that He is “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world,” foretelling that He would be the sacrifice and offering for the remission of our sins. He also testifies that He is the Most High God, who came down from heaven, and that He is immeasurably powerful, receiving the Spirit from the Father not by measure.

He promises eternal life to those who believe in Him, and threatens inevitable divine wrath upon those who do not. When asked by his disciples about himself, he said: “He must increase, but I must decrease” (Jn. 3:30). And explaining why not only he himself, but all things, yield to Christ, he says, “He that comes from above is above all” (Jn. 3:31)—existing beyond all created ranks, and preserving in full the perfection of the Father as the Beloved Son. And again: “The Father loves the Son, and has given all things into His hand. He who believes in the Son has everlasting life; but he who does not believe the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abides on him” (Jn. 3:35–36).

So Christ comes to be baptized—first, to fulfill obedience to the One who sent John, as He Himself said: “For thus it becomes us to fulfill all righteousness” (Mt. 3:15); second, for His manifestation; also, to inaugurate the saving path and make it trustworthy for those to follow and be baptized. Furthermore, He gave an example and showed that in baptism the Holy Spirit is bestowed, and that baptism was instituted by Him as a healing purification of the defilements we acquired through passionate birth and life.

He Himself, even as Man, had no need of cleansing, being born of the All-Pure Virgin and remaining without sin throughout His life. But for our sake, He was born, and for our sake, He undergoes purification. Therefore, He is baptized by John, and as He comes up from the water, the heavens are opened, and behold: the voice of the Father is heard—“This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased” (Mt. 3:17)—and the Spirit of God descends upon Him as a dove, bearing witness to those present of the One testified to from on high.

In this way, the true Son is revealed; the Father is shown as the true Father; and the Holy Spirit is made manifest as proceeding essentially from the Father, yet resting by nature upon the Only-Begotten Son. And present also in the water of baptism is the grace of the Son, and of the Father, and of the Spirit—so that, according to this image, when this grace is later given to the baptized, it might divinely regenerate them, renew them, and mystically re-create them—not as children of the old Adam, from whom they had inherited the curse, but as those born from the New Adam, from whom they receive the blessing; no longer children of the flesh, but children of God, born “not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God” (Jn. 1:13).

For although they are still burdened with the weight of this perishing flesh—for the sake of discipline, testing, correction, and understanding the vanity of this present age—yet they have clothed themselves in Christ, so that by striving, they may even here share in His way of life, and after departing hence, become partakers of His blessedness, His radiance, and His incorruptibility. For just as through one Adam, by physical descent, the penalty of death passed to his descendants, so through the one God-man, the Word, grace for eternal and heavenly life is given to all reborn through Him.

Therefore, heaven is opened for them—prepared to receive them at the appointed time—if they are nourished by faith in Him and by righteousness that accords with that faith, and become heirs of God, receiving power to be co-heirs with Christ, sharing in His ineffable life and immortality, abiding with Him inseparably and delighting in His glory.

For heaven had once been closed to us, and we were children of wrath—meaning, we had justly been forsaken by God because of our sin and unbelief. But now, because our nature in Christ is without sin and obedient to God, we have become children of favor, united with Christ, beloved sons. And heaven is opened for us, so that the Spirit of God may descend upon us and dwell within us, and that, in due time, we may be lifted up into heaven by Him—when He who raised Christ from the dead will also enliven our mortal bodies through His Spirit who dwells in us, transforming the body of our humility and conforming it to the body of Christ’s glory. Through Him we are enriched with immortality and called to the heavens, where our nature is seated at the right hand of Majesty, above every principality and power.

O the depth of the riches and wisdom and love for mankind of God! How marvelously did He know to transform our transgression—freely chosen—into something far greater and more glorious, by His wisdom, His power, and His love! For had the Son of God not descended from heaven, our return to heaven would have been hopeless. Had He not become incarnate, suffered in the flesh, risen, and ascended for us, we would never have known the abyss of God’s love for us.

And even when we were still ungodly, had He not taken flesh and suffered for our sake, we—who are now exalted to such a height through Him—would never have been kept from base pride. But now, since we have brought nothing of our own and yet are lifted up to the heights, we remain in humility. And beholding the greatness of the promise and the grace, we become ever more humble—for in this is our salvation.

So then, the Son of God became man in order to show to what height He intends to raise us—so that we might not become proud, as though we had triumphed by our own strength. Being of two natures, He truly became the Mediator, uniting both (God and man) in Himself through each of His natures. He came to loosen the bonds of sin, to cleanse the defilement introduced through the sin of the flesh, to reveal God’s love toward us, to show the depth of evil into which we had fallen—so deep that God’s very Incarnation was necessary for our salvation.

He came to become for us an example of humility, encompassing flesh and suffering, which is the healing remedy for pride; to demonstrate that our nature was created good by God; to be the Author and Guarantor of the Resurrection and of eternal life, destroying all hopelessness; to become the Son of Man and a partaker of mortality, that He might make men sons of God, partakers of divine immortality.

He came to show how greatly the human nature, created in the image of God, surpasses all other created things—for it had such affinity with God that it could be united to Him in a single Hypostasis. He came to honor the flesh—even mortal flesh—so that arrogant spirits would no longer think themselves more worthy of honor than mankind, exalting themselves on account of their bodiless nature and apparent immortality. He came to reconcile and unite, by nature separated, God and mankind—by becoming Himself, in nature, the dual Mediator.

And what need is there to say more? If the Word of God had not become incarnate, the Father would not have been revealed as truly the Father, nor the Son as truly the Son, nor the Holy Spirit—proceeding from the Father—nor God in His essence and hypostases. Rather, He would have appeared to creation merely as a Power, just as the foolish philosophers of old claimed, and now their spiritual heirs—followers of Barlaam and Akindynos—likewise blasphemously imagine.

Thus the Lord manifested Himself and His dispensation to the extent that this could be revealed to us. He revealed the Father as truly the most high and eternal Father. He showed to those willing to receive it—both in that time and for generations to come—the path of ascent (or return) to the Father, urging and calling them, guiding them by His own life, His teachings, His miracles, and prophecies—or rather, by His truly divine and supernatural wisdom and knowledge, before whom nothing is hidden: neither the future, nor the present invisible movements in the depths of the heart.

Therefore, it was necessary that those who hear Him be delivered from the bondage of the devil. And since man had experienced the wrath of God—which consisted in the fact that man had justly been abandoned by the Good—and was delivered into captivity to the devil, it was necessary that man be reconciled with his Creator. For otherwise, it would have been impossible to free him from that bondage.

Thus, there was need for a sacrifice to reconcile us with the Most High Father, and to sanctify those who had been defiled through communion with the evil one. There was need for a purifying and spotless sacrifice—and also a need for a priest, likewise pure and sinless. Moreover, there was need for resurrection—not only a resurrection of the spirit, but also of the body, for the sake of future generations, in the resurrection that is to come at the appointed time.

It was therefore necessary not only to grant us this deliverance and resurrection, but to guarantee it. And further, to bestow upon us restoration, elevation, and unending citizenship in the heavens. This was not only necessary for those living at that time or in the future, but even more so for the multitudes of people who had been born and died since the beginning of the world. For the number of people in Hades far exceeded those who would be born in the future—vastly more than those who would come to faith and be saved.

For this reason, I believe, Christ came at the end of the ages. It was necessary that the Gospel be preached also in Hades, and that this great dispensation of salvation be made manifest even there—granting full liberation from the demons who had enslaved souls, sanctification, and the promise of what is to come. So Christ indeed had to descend into Hades—but all this according to justice and righteousness (meta dikaeosynēs), for without righteousness, God accomplishes nothing.

Furthermore, it was just and necessary that the deceiver, the devil, be outwitted, and his hoarded wealth—acquired by deceit—be stripped away from him; that evil, in which he had pridefully reached his fullness, be conquered not by sheer divine force, but by wisdom and justice, lest he be humiliated merely by power and not truly defeated in a just way.

Since all men, by deed or word or thought—or by all three, or by any two—had defiled the purity given to human nature by God, there was a need for sanctification. And from the beginning, sanctification is accomplished by an offering made to God by each person. But the offering had to be pure—and we had nothing pure to offer. Therefore, the one pure Christ appeared, and He offered Himself to the Father as a sacrifice for us and as the firstfruits, so that by looking to Him and believing in Him, and by being united to Him through obedience, we might stand before God, receive mercy, and all be sanctified.

This is what the Lord Himself says in the Gospel: “For their sakes I sanctify Myself, that they also may be sanctified in truth” (Jn. 17:19). For not only the sacrifice, but also the one offering the sacrifice—the high priest—had to be pure and sinless, as the Apostle says: “Such a high priest became us—holy, innocent, undefiled, separate from sinners, and made higher than the heavens” (Heb. 7:26).

Therefore, for the sake of these and such things, the Word of God not only became flesh and dwelt among us—visible upon the earth and living among men—but also took on the same kind of flesh that we have: though utterly pure, yet mortal and passible. And with this flesh, as a divinely wise “bait,” He caught the primeval, evil serpent by the Cross, and thereby freed the entire human race that had been enslaved to him. For when the tyrant fell, all who were tyrannized by him were released. This is precisely what the Lord Himself says in the Gospels: “The strong man is bound, and his goods are plundered.” What had been taken captive by Christ was set free, justified, filled with light, and enriched with divine gifts. For this reason David sings: “Thou art gone up on high” (that is, to the height of the Cross—or, if you prefer, to heaven), “Thou hast led captivity captive, and given gifts to men” (Ps. 67:19).

Thus, through His Passion and flesh, He put the devil to flight, offering that same flesh to God the Father as a sacrifice, a spotless and all-holy offering. O unspeakable bounty! In so doing, He reconciled us to God, having made us of one kin with Himself, the God-man. And since He accepted the Passion by the will of the Father, He thereby became an example for us who, through our disobedience, had ruined ourselves, but who are saved by the obedience of Christ. He demonstrated that His death is far more precious than the so-called immortality of the devil, which is worse than ten thousand deaths and destined for eternal punishment. For His death became the cause of truly immortal life—not of a second or everlasting death. It now dwells with Him in the heavenly tabernacles. For He Himself, rising on the third day from the dead, and presenting Himself alive to the disciples, ascended into heaven and, being immortal, has granted to us resurrection, immortality, and an eternal, unshakable, and truly blessed life in heaven—making it certain and sure.

By His one death in the flesh and His one resurrection, He has healed us from the double death of soul and body, and has freed us from the twofold captivity of soul and body. For the evil one became spiritually dead when, through willful and conscious sin, he was justly forsaken by God, who is True Life. As the fullness of evil, the prince of envy, lies, and malice, he could not bear that the life of man was spent in a place of delight—I mean Paradise. And by his ruinous counsel, he deceived mankind and made him a sharer in sin and death of the soul.

And from this spiritual death, bodily death necessarily followed. In this way, the evil one, through his own single spiritual death, inflicted a twofold death upon us—and by casting us down even lower than himself, he, in his pride, appeared great and exalted, as one who had outwitted us by cunning and enslaved us, and who, being “immortal,” alas, appeared to us as a kind of god. Even after death, possessing our souls—which had been abandoned by God—he dragged them down to Hades and confined them in what seemed to be an unbreakable prison.

But the God who created us, having compassion on this great disaster of ours, deigned to descend to where we had fallen, to summon us from there—He who alone appeared among the dead as free, who descended there in His living spirit. And more than that, He illuminated that place with divine light and radiated life-giving power, so as to enlighten those who sat in darkness and to enliven in spirit those in Hades who believed in Him—and at the appointed time, also to enliven their bodies, when He established that the entire human race should be raised and judged.

As the Apostle teaches in his Epistle: “For this cause was the Gospel preached also to the dead, that they might be judged according to men in the flesh, but live according to God in the spirit” (1 Peter 4:6). A little earlier in the same epistle, he shows who it was and how He preached the Gospel to the dead in Hades: “Christ also once suffered for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that He might bring us to God; being put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit, by which He also went and preached to the spirits in prison” (1 Peter 3:18–19)—that is, to the souls of the dead from of old.

So, just as the evil one, through his own single spiritual death, brought upon us a double death—of both soul and body—so the Good One, through His one bodily death, healed our double death. And through the single resurrection of His body, He granted us a twofold resurrection—of soul and of body—overthrowing by His bodily death the one who had held authority, through death, over our souls and bodies, and delivering us in both respects from his tyranny.

The evil one took the form of a serpent to deceive man; the Word of God took on human nature to outwit the deceiver. He assumed this nature untouched by deception and pure, and preserved it as such to the end, offering it to the Father as a sacrifice and firstfruits for our sanctification—through our own human nature. For if the Word of God had assumed a body not subject to death or suffering, how could the devil—being, as he is, the very source of evil—have been deceived or come into contact with Him?

Thus, the devil did not dare approach until he recognized that Christ had a body capable of suffering. For after Christ had fasted in the wilderness for forty days and did not hunger—for though He had a body capable of feeling pain, it would not have endured had the divine power, joined to that body, not permitted it—then, as the Gospel says, He afterward hungered. At that moment, for the first time, the evil one dared to approach and began to tempt Him, trying to probe His soul.

But when he was strongly repelled, and again approached with temptations involving all the pleasures of the senses, he was mightily defeated. Weakened, shamed, and overthrown, he fled in retreat. Why was the tempter defeated, even though he dared approach because of the passibility of the God-man’s flesh? Because he tried to incite to sin the one sinless Man. Thus, he fled in shameful defeat.

But Christ did not relent in His pursuit, driving him out from those possessed by him, healing the sick by His mere command, raising the dead—not only those who had recently died, but even those whose bodies had begun to decay. Moreover, He preached repentance, declared that the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand, led souls to faith and to a life opposite to that taught by the enemy. He converted and received sinners, and even gave His disciples power over demons.

Could this be tolerable for Satan and the angels who had fallen with him? Would he not have tried to devise some way to destroy such a power, which opposed him? Could he endure the presence of such a Man—one who expelled him from men and overthrew his many-faced tyranny? Therefore, he raged against Christ. But since he had learned from experience that the God-man’s soul was invulnerable to any passion—the very passions which he himself had introduced into human nature—and that this soul was entirely inaccessible to death (for the devil had introduced death to mankind), and since Christ’s body alone was subject to suffering and death, he was not permitted to kill Him directly.

So instead, he stirred up the souls of the unbelieving Jews to kill Him, provoking in them envy and unrestrained fury against Him—because Christ rebuked and rejected them as evildoers. Thus, he incited and agitated them to murder Him, to sentence Him to a shameful death reserved for evildoers and the ungodly, hoping thereby to remove Him from the earth and make His very name a reproach.

He arrogantly presumed that when Christ died, His soul—like the souls of all who had died from the beginning—would be held captive in Hades.

Thus, the deceiver was himself deceived: attacking Christ’s flesh, seeing it as subject to suffering and death, he—against his will—brought Light into the dark and long-desired depths of the underworld, and presented the Giver of life to souls tyrannized by him through spiritual death. Not only this, but he also mixed the Body—the very source of resurrection and immortality—with the dead, hastening to hand it over to death and the grave.

Yet the Lord could, in truth, have overthrown even these wicked plans of his, but instead, He willed all the more to undergo the Passion for our sake—this being the very reason He became man. For had He not become man, He could not have suffered; and if He were not God, remaining impassible in His divinity, He could not have taken on such a death in the flesh for our sake—through which He granted us resurrection and immortality. And had He not been God, it would not be believed that He truly could have suffered voluntarily—but because He was God, He freely willed to suffer. Thus, He demonstrated that His humility was for our liberation and uplifting, and by His actions taught that one must struggle for righteousness even unto death, proclaiming to the faithful the power of immortality—an immortality not merely of endless existence, but of existence immune from eternal perdition, that fearful punishment prepared for the devil—existence instead in everlasting fellowship with the holy angels, in the enjoyment of the beautiful and unending Kingdom.

For this reason, He subjected Himself to death, which He did not owe, in order to free us—who were subject to death by obligation—from bondage to the devil and death. And by death, I mean both spiritual and bodily death, both temporal and eternal. For on our behalf—guilty because of sin—He offered His own innocent Blood as a ransom, and thus redeemed us from guilt, forgiving our sins and blotting out the record written against us, nailing it to the Cross, and redeeming us from the tyranny of the devil. For the devil, being deceived and opening his mouth wide, hastening to pour out the Master’s Blood—which is our ransom—not only innocent but full of divine power, gained nothing from it; rather, he found himself bound tightly, mocked openly by the Cross of Christ.

In this way, we were snatched from his slavery and transferred into the Kingdom of the Son of God—we who were once vessels of wrath, but through Him became vessels of mercy. He bound the strong man (strong only by comparison with us), the devil, and plundered his goods. And having been unjustly put to death at the devil’s instigation, He justly reigned over us—defeating the evil one by divine justice, openly displaying almighty power, conquering death in the flesh, rising on the third day, ascending into heaven, and sitting at the right hand of the Father in that same flesh which He bore for our sake and in which He died. In this He confirmed the resurrection of the dead, the return to heaven, and the inheritance of the Kingdom—provided we too, imitating Him, conquer the prince of sin through righteousness, repelling his assaults and temptations to wicked passions, and courageously enduring his malicious plots.

This is why, though the Lord has regenerated us through divine baptism and sealed us with the grace of the Holy Spirit on the day of redemption, He has nonetheless left us with a mortal and passible body. Though He cast out the prince of evil from human souls, He allows him to attack from without, so that man, being renewed according to the New Covenant—that is, the Gospel of Christ—living in virtue and repentance, scorning worldly pleasures, enduring suffering, and growing strong under the assaults of the enemy, might prepare himself in this life to receive incorruption and those future blessings suited to the age to come.

Therefore, the faithful should rejoice in hope; and since this present life will come to an end, he ought wisely and faithfully to await the blessedness that the next life will contain without end. By the understanding of faith, he must patiently endure the hardship that this life carries as a deserved punishment, and must, resisting sin—even unto blood if need be—stand firm against the enemy, the ally of sin and the architect of cunning snares. For apart from sin, nothing in this life—not even death itself—is a misfortune, even though it may appear to be one.

For this reason, the company of the saints inflicted suffering on their own bodies. The martyrs transformed the violent deaths inflicted on them by others into great glory, into the gateway of life, glory, and the eternal heavenly Kingdom—courageously and in a way pleasing to God, they made use of death. For this very reason, after abolishing death by His Resurrection, Christ allowed it still to remain for His faithful ones, and along with it allowed other tribulations in this world: so that a person, fighting for Christ amid these circumstances and upholding the Truth in both way of life and doctrines of the New Covenant, might be prepared for that coming, new, and incorruptible age.

Thus, even sufferings benefit those who endure them with faith—for the remission of sins, for training, for testing, for a real understanding of the misery of this life, for the fervent stirring of spiritual thirst and for the constant seeking after the adoption, redemption, and truly new and blessed life that abides forever.

And since our adoption and renewal in Christ—in both soul and body—is manifold, having a beginning, a middle, and a fulfillment: as its beginning, He has given us the grace of baptism, which grants forgiveness of all sins and the penalty resulting from the curse, and is called the “washing of regeneration.” As its fulfillment, He grants the resurrection—the resurrection hoped for by the faithful, and the life promised in the age to come. And between these lies life according to the Gospel of Christ, through which a person who is growing in God is nourished and matures day by day into the knowledge of God, into righteousness, and into sanctification, little less than the state of the angels, casting off attachment to base things and transferring his longing from the visible, carnal, and temporal to the intellectual, spiritual, and eternal.

These three stages of renewal in Christ are set forth by Paul, the beholder of unspeakable mysteries, the chosen vessel, in his epistle to the Romans: “As many of us as were baptized into Christ Jesus, were baptized into His death. Therefore we are buried with Him by baptism into death” (Rom. 6:3–4). This is the beginning of our renewal, for Christ tore up the record of our sins on the Cross and, through baptism, buried us with Him and made us guiltless.

Listen also to what he says about the middle, which follows the beginning: “That just as Christ was raised from the dead, so we too might walk in newness of life” (Rom. 6:4). And he adds the fulfillment of our renewal: “For if we have been united with Him in the likeness of His death, we shall also be in the likeness of His resurrection” (Rom. 6:5).

Then, more clearly showing both the beginning and the type of renewal and adoption, he says: “And not only they, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption” (Rom. 8:23). He calls “the firstfruits of the Spirit” the sanctification and grace of the Spirit that we receive in divine baptism, being freed from sins and renewed, and justified freely by the grace of Christ—for this is the beginning of the blessings to come. And by “waiting for the adoption,” he shows that he does not speak of the adoption through baptism, but of that future, perfect, and enduring adoption. He adds: “the redemption of our body”—that is, deliverance from passions and corruption. For here, adoption often fails; but that which comes in the regeneration and the resurrection of the dead is perfect and truly unshakable.

In his Epistle to the Philippians, Paul sets forth even more clearly the fulfillment—the final goal—of this renewal, saying: “We look for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall transform the body of our humiliation to be conformed to the body of His glory” (Phil. 3:20–21). For just as Christ died in weakness and dishonor of the body, yet rose again in divine power and glory, so too those who lived in Christ are sown into death—let us again use Paul’s own words—in weakness and dishonor, but shall rise in power and glory, receiving a glorified and pure body such as Christ Himself had after the Resurrection, having become the Firstborn from the dead and the Firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.

But this renewal of the body is, for now, seen only by faith—not yet by sight, not in actual form, but in hope. This renewal begins, as was said, in divine baptism through the forgiveness of sins, and it is strengthened and grows through righteousness in faith, being ever more renewed in the knowledge of God and the virtues that accompany it. It will receive its fulfillment in the future, in the face-to-face vision of God; for now we see, as it were, through a glass, darkly. Therefore the one greatly beloved by Christ, John the Theologian, combining both renewals—that of the soul and that of the body—says: “Beloved, now are we the children of God” (1 John 3:2). This is the beginning of adoption. But—“it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that when He shall appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.” This is the fulfillment of the adoption given to us by Christ, the renewal granted in God.

And again, in the Gospel, the same John says: “Christ gave power to those who believe in His Name to become the children of God, who were born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God” (John 1:12–13). For by saying that we are not born of flesh but of God, he points to the regeneration and adoption that come through divine baptism, which he also affirms in the epistle when he says: “Now we are the children of God.”

Yet in saying that He gave us the power to become children of God—as though we are not yet fully such—he shows the final completion of adoption. For just as a newborn child possesses by nature the power to become wise, and is potentially wise, so also, as the years pass and the conditions conducive to growth are present, the child may actually become wise—so too the one reborn through divine baptism has truly received the potential power to become conformed to the body of the glory of the Son of God. And if he walks in newness of life, living according to Christ and His Gospel, then at the Resurrection—by the power proceeding from that life toward perfection—he shall receive, not just in faith and hope, but in truth and reality, a glorified and most pure body, like that which the Lord Himself had after His Resurrection.

The bodies of the ungodly also shall rise, but not in heavenly glory, for they shall not be conformed to the body of Christ’s glory. They shall not behold that vision of God promised to the faithful, which is also called the Kingdom of God. For it is written: “Let the ungodly be taken away, that he may not see the glory of the Lord” (Isaiah 26:10).

But those who have been born in Christ and nourished in Him, and who have attained, as far as possible, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, shall be blessed to partake of divine radiance. As it is written, they shall shine like the sun in the Kingdom of their Father.

This divine radiance and light-bearing glory was what Adam possessed before his transgression—he was, in truth, clothed in a robe of glory, and was not naked, nor ashamed of his nakedness. Rather, he was adorned with such splendor that it cannot be described—more glorious by far than those now crowned with gold and precious stones.

Our nature, once shamefully stripped of this divine brightness and radiance through transgression, was taken up in mercy by the Word of God through His love for mankind. And on Mount Tabor He showed to the chosen of His disciples that same divine glory clothing Him even more powerfully than we once possessed it, clearly revealing what we, who believe in Him and attain perfection in Him, shall be in the age to come.

You will find that the pledges of this perfection—granted to those who live in Christ—have already, even in this life, been bestowed upon the saints of God, who have tasted in advance the good things of the age to come. Moses, for instance, bore a reflection of it—his face shone so that the children of Israel could not gaze upon it. And after him, the Lord Himself revealed it even more fully when He shone forth on the mountain with the radiance of divinity, so brightly that even the chosen disciples, though they had received spiritual strength, could not endure the sight.

As it is written, the face of Stephen appeared as the face of an angel, and looking up from the earth beyond the heavens, he saw the glory of God above the heavens, where Christ is seated at the right hand of Majesty.

And how many more could be named—those who already here, in this life, received pledges of the blessings to come, and were blessed to taste that divine radiance and glory?

May we, too, receive it by the grace and love for mankind of Him who for our sake became incarnate, suffered, was buried, rose again, and exalted our nature to the heavens—honoring it with enthronement at the right hand of the Father: Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom be glory, honor, and worship with His Unoriginate Father and the Most Holy and Life-Giving Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

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