Wisdom’s Fire, Radiant and Unfading. Part XI: The Eschaton in History

Part X

With Christ ascended, the Spirit has been sent:
The Church is established, history has been anchored
By love, a love which can never be dent
By sin: it has all been taken in by the Lord.

What is outside, is to be brought in,
What is in, attracts those without:
Love is victorious, even over sin;
Of this, the resurrection leaves no doubt.

After Christ ascended, the Holy Spirit descended upon the world. The Spirit, the Comforter, was sent by Christ as he had promised to do: “Nevertheless I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. And when he comes, he will convince the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment” (John 16:7-8 RSV). If Jesus did not finish his work and ascend in glory, the fruit of that work, the Spirit, would not have been able to be sent into the world. The Spirit is released from Christ so as to infuse the world with God’s loving grace. The Spirit is the Spirit of love: the Son has returned to the Father, allowing the Spirit, the Spirit of love to grow and envelop all of creation.

The Spirit’s first task is to bring Christ’s followers together, to unite them, so that they form the Body of Christ, the Church. They are to do Christ’s work in history. The eschaton realized in Christ is to serve as the paradigm for all history. The Church is to bring about the union of all in all and for all, to bring everything and everyone into Christ. History for Christians is the realization of Christ’s eschatological work; it is the incarnation of grace, making all things new. Of course, such a theological history must meet non-Christian history –  that is, the history under the mantle of death, of the history which must come to and reach its end. The two meet constantly, with the Church taking in what comes out of non-Christian history and resurrecting it in Christ. When one talks about the baptism of nations and cultures into Christ, this is exactly what is meant: everything and everyone which puts on Christ must die with Christ, share in the pain and suffering of Christ, so that they can be raised and made perfect in Christ. The response of sin must meet the response of Christ: sin will try to dominate through brutality, while the one in Christ will take the brutal blows of sin upon themselves: they will suffer with Christ so as to reach the end to sin in their own life. Most will find themselves contained in both worlds, in both histories; this is why it is often said that the eschaton is already and not yet; it is already here according to how much we have died to the self and let ourselves be incorporated into Christ on the cross, but it is not yet insofar as we have not entirely cut ourselves all from that which is unlove. Thus, we live in both worlds, and we cause others to suffer according to our unlove, while we suffer with Christ according to our measure of love. The two meet in our very person, and the meeting of the two requires us, finally, to either accept or deny love, to fully go to go one side or the other, the choice of which is fully up to us; as Hans Urs von Balthasar points out, “only since the universal embrace of the Cross does there exist, in a true sense, the demonic world of absolute denial.”[1] But the challenge is between of finite unlove and infinite love, of finite freedom and God’s transcendent freedom. What comes out is a drama, one which is full of conflict, yet one which points to the limits of unlove: “The struggle between finite and infinite freedom becomes dramatic only when the creature’s opposition to God emerges and goes to the limit; only then do we understand the chasms and tempests of the Apocalypse; only then does the biblical revelation in its entirety become a blazing fire.”[2]

Because of the cross, a true denial of love is possible, but because of the cross, true love is also possible. Denial, as we see with the cross, has an end; it is limited, it cannot triumph over love. It can give all it has – but as we see, all it has comes to an end; it is thrown into the trash heap (Gehenna, the second death) as love triumphs. Unlove has no freedom, while love is freedom itself.  Sadly, for the love which has not yet fully emerged, what we see on the cross will have to be played out in full in history. While some might, at one time, stand in with unlove, as the centurion did, this does not mean they cannot overcome that unlove. We share, together, with the oppressor at the cross; but we be converted, at the foot of the cross, just like St Longinus. We wound Christ through our acts of unlove, but we can become so shaken by what we have done, that in the end we join in with St Longinus and proclaim the one we have harmed to be the Son of God. This means the fate of those who embrace the role of unlove in history, at the end of the age, do not have to end up among the lost, and we should hope for their salvation. Jesus shows us this is so, for it was during his passion, where hate was given its victory, that he cried out, from the depths of his heart, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34 RSV). We, who put ourselves into the love of Christ, must respond likewise to those who abuse us. We once trespassed against love and now must forgive those who trespass against it, even as we have been forgiven: if we hold on to the trespasses of others, we have yet to find ourselves perfectly one with Christ, for we hold onto something which is not love. What is unlove has no place in love; until we put it off, we will find our place is with those who act with unlove, those sinners who have not found Christ. We will, with them, find our place and judgment as the place and judgment of unlove – what is unloved cannot be forgiven, for unlove does not want to be forgiven and God will let it be as it desires.

Non-Christian history is, in its momentum, leading us to a crisis, where history, all of history, ends up taking on the cross and finding itself sharing in the resurrection from the dead. The Church recognizes that, at the end of history, all that is unlove will have accumulated together, grown in apparent strength and might, and it will strike out against creation, seeking to destroy it with its self-hate. It can not last: it will expire as the world expires, as the way of death is taken to its proper end. This is why the last and final stage of earthly history, when it comes, will be a time of dread – all that humanity has created for itself, and tries to hold on to for itself in itself, as closed off from the Spirit, will be used and abused, leading to all kinds of sorrow in the world. One person will emerge who can be most identified with all the hate in the world, and yet even he, in his brief reign, will find his powers as being subjected to the over-arching powers of Christ and the presence of grace in history: the two witnesses (truth and beauty) demonstrate that the man of sin can never triumph against Christ. The Apocalypse, keeping this ever-present victory of Christ before us, reminds us that no matter how much our work appears to be a failure, we are doing Christ’s work in creation and that our work, because it is done in Christ, is successful: we will see the value of our labor in the eschaton, where we will see how Christ worked in and through us for the establishment of his eternal kingdom.

In history, those with eyes purified by love shall see the eschaton’s presence, seeing that, to the side of the heightened unlove which is before us, there is also an increase in love, an increase and progress in humanity which cannot be denied. As we are incorporated into the Church, into the Body of Christ, grace lifts us up and makes us more than we once were. “The action of Christ is therefore determined here by the progressive development of humanity, drawn by degrees into the divine-human sphere, assimilated to the mystical Body of Christ and transformed into the Universal Church.” [3] The Church’s role, then, is to bring the eschaton to the world, to transform the world through the work of the Spirit:

The grace of Catholicism was not given to us for ourselves alone, but for those who do not possess it; just as the grace of the contemplative life, as St. Teresa understood so well, is bestowed on chosen souls for the benefit of those who undertake the labors of active life. Fidelity to that grace by which we are members of the Church make tow demands upon us: we must cooperate in the collective salvation of the world by taking part, each according with his own vocation, in the construction of that great building of which we must be at once the workmen and the stones; at the same time we must cooperate, by the impact of our whole Christian life, in the individual salvation of those who remain apparently “unbelievers.”[4]

The Church itself is a sacrament, bringing grace to the world. The Church itself is called to divinize creation through the grace given to it. This, of course, is primarily eucharistic: we are, in great thanksgiving, bringing the world up to God. Because we have been made to be priestly mediators to the world, we must not neglect this task: it is, indeed, what is expected of us once we are incorporated into the Body of Christ:

Man’s responsibility is to make a eucharistic reality out of nature, i.e., to make nature, too, capable of communion. If man does this, then truth takes up its meaning for the whole cosmos, Christ becomes a cosmic Christ, and the world as a whole dwells in truth, which is none other than communion with its Creator. Truth thereby becomes the life of all that is.[5]

It is in this fashion we must understand that our faith is not about “rules” and “doctrines,” but is rather about the living out of the promises of Christ – the living out of being one with Christ:

The Church is not an organization but the new people of God. The Church is not a religious cult but a liturgy, embracing the entire creation of God. The Church is not a doctrine about the world to come but the joyous encounter of the kingdom of God. It is the sacrament of peace, the sacrament of salvation and the sacrament of the reign of Christ.”[6]

And from this it becomes apparent what Solovyov wrote:

The aim of the divine-human work is to save all men equally, to transform the whole world into a royal and prophetic priesthood, a society of God in which men find themselves in direct relation to Christ and have no need of sun (that is, of a special priesthood), of moon (that is, of a special kingship), or of stars (that is, of prophecy as a public function). But to attain this end, it is not enough to define it. It is only too obvious that the mass of men do not individually and subjectively possess piety, justice and wisdom in sufficient measure to enter into direct contact with the Godhead or to invest each individual with the character of priest, king and prophet. Hence it is necessary that these three Messianic attributes should be given objective and organic form in public and social life, and should be permanently differentiated in the universal organism in order that Christ may have specific organs of His activity as Priest, King, and Prophet.[7]

The Church achieves the three Messianic categories of priest, prophet and king in the world through the work of those who are a part of her. One is baptized and chrismated, that is, one is brought into contact with the death and resurrection of Christ, then given the Spirit of Christ allowing one to be called a christ in Christ. They share with Christ a rule over creation, the rule of love. Their kingship is the reestablishment of Adam’s proper dominion in servitude for creation. The common priesthood of the laity, to be sure, is connected to this: we are all called to intercede for the world. But the sacramental priesthood is a special priesthood, called for the sake of the Church, to offer special intercession for those who are inside the Church (this is not to say they are not to intercede for those outside the Church; they are, but they offer something more for those within, to make sure all within are given the grace needed in order to achieve their own priestly role).

Ordination to the liturgical priesthood means that one is specially elected and chosen for this ecclesiastical role, that they are to be nourishing the children of God even as the children of God are out in the world, bringing it under the Church’s protective mantle. Their role in the sacraments indicates their role as intercessors for those within the visible domain of the Church. More than any other, their connection to the eucharist demonstrates how they are called to feed the Church with spiritual nourishment, thereby bringing people together, realizing the unity they have in Christ:

The type and basic reality of this integration are given in the ecclesiastical hierarchy formed by the Sacrament of Order. It is the triumph of social love, for no member of this order functions or acts for himself or in his own name; each is ordained and invested by a superior representing a wider social unit. [8]

The place and function of the ordained priesthood can only be understood in relation to the eucharist, for it is in the eucharist the Church is built up and can properly understand itself as the Body of Christ – in the eucharist, the Holy Spirit is called forth to unite Christians together, to be one in the unity of love, and to find themselves, in that unity, one with Christ himself. The eucharist, centered in the bishop (through the priest) demonstrates this unity of love as it confirms one’s place in the Body of Christ. The eucharist is our thanksgiving celebration with Christ, where we, in our memorial, take on that memorial and become what it is we eat, and in doing so, finding ourselves free from the bonds of sin:

The people of God gathered together in the eucharist realize their freedom under the form of affirmation alone: it is not the “yes” and the “no” together which God offers in Christ, but only the “‘yes,” which equates to the eucharistic “Amen” (II Cor. 1:19,20).[9]

Confession allows us to break our egotistical shell, to open ourselves up to grace. “These things I have said to you, beloved, that you may know how it is required of a man to repent in his body and soul, and to purify them both.”[10] One must realizes the failure of sin, that one can not go at it alone. By ourselves, we are limited creatures with limited potentiality; closed off, we end up exhausted, using up all we have, and eventually, we will find ourselves degenerating because we have used up all we have been given. Confession opens us up to the stream of grace, the perpetual living water which makes sure we are never exhausted, for it supplies what it is we lack in and of ourselves. The priest serves to confirm the denigration of the egotistical shell, and to be a vehicle of grace, showing the sinner the discard of sin has been taken up and overcome by Christ. This is not to say that sin has become unsin; rather, as Florensky states, it is placed before God, who then judges it and shows it for what it is as it is:

The mysterious process of God’s judgment is a separation, a cutting off, an isolating. Such, first of all, is sacrament. No sacrament makes sin not-sin: God does not justify untruth. But sacrament cuts off the sinful part of the soul and represents it, to the recipient of the sacrament, objectively as nothing (as “covered”) and subjectively as self-enclosed evil, directed at itself, as a Serpent biting its tail.[11]

In this way, confession is what is needed for us to overcome our unlove, to remove what bars us from the path of love, so that we can love and act according to that love. And it through love that Christians are called to be prophets. We are called to see others in the eyes of love, to look for their needs in love, and to call others out when their lack of love is shown. When the needs of the people are not met, that is, when real needs are ignored, the Church must act as a prophet and call society to task. When people are sick or hungry, the Church is to act in their favor, to respond to their needs. It is a spiritual crisis which destroys society, and the Church by advocating the path of love shows the way around the crisis; but it must do more than point the way, it must work in and through the crisis, with those in need, to be one with them while their needs remain. The sacrament of the sick, once known as extreme unction, points out this prophetic role of the Church: for not only does the Church respond to the needs of those who are ailing, but through the sacrament she is indicating something of the eschaton, showing the unity between the present with it. The Church’s prophetic call is the revelation of love, where the God who is love is shown to be with us, working with us now, and raising us in the universal resurrection of the dead:

This love brings down divine grace into earthly nature and triumphs not only over moral evil but also over its physical consequences, sickness and death. Its work is the final resurrection. And the Church, which teaches this resurrection in her revealed doctrine, formulated in the last article of her creed, foreshadows and inaugurates it in the last of her sacraments. In the face of sickness and the danger of death, Extreme Unction is the symbol and pledge of our immortality and of our future integrity.[12]

For those in the world, love is also a means of the restoration of the integral human nature, because it allows a man and woman to come together, and overcome the sexual divide. While there is something which is special about both genders, through the fall, their differentiation has led to division and abuse, with one or the other using their gender as a way to overcome their opposite instead of to unite with them in love. The war between the sexes, so often joked about, is nonetheless possible because of the fall, where love and self-giving is ignored and instead, one looks at the other as someone to possess and own. Sexual union in marriage has become something more and greater through the Spirit:

Man is inwardly separated from Woman by the desire of possessing her externally in the name of a blind and irrational passion. The two are reunited by the power of true love which identifies their lives in their absolute substance eternally fixed in God, and only admits the material relationship as an ultimate consequence and external realisation of this mystical and moral relationship. It is love at its most concentrated and most concrete, and therefore at its deepest and most intense, the true basis and general type of every other love and every other union. The word of God has ordained and blessed it, and the Church perpetuates this blessing in the Sacrament of Marriage which makes true sexual love the first positive basis of the divine-human integration. For it is this sanctified love which creates the true individual elements of the perfect society, the incarnate Sophia. [13]

It is because that such self-giving love is holy that Christ confirmed the sacrament of marriage with his presence at the Wedding of Cana. Christ’s first public miracle was the creation of wine out of water; in the same way, he is able to recognize what little love we have and to transform it so it is fitting and proper, able to find a place for itself in eternity. When true love comes to the soul, the desire that comes out of it is the desire of love, a desire so beautiful God can only stand by and approve:  “I only know that I cannot forego my desire, I only know that my desire is so beautiful and so strong that the Eternal himself would not have me forego it.” [14] Of course, we must not confuse this with mere earthly, sensual desire, the kind which gets bored once it has used what it once wanted. Marriage, certainly, can be founded upon the latter and fail; though of course, even this can be raised up because there remains, even here, a desire of the soul to fulfill its sophianic role, and for those who are married, this is their place to fulfill it; they must, of course, learn true love, self-sacrificial love:

Love is Holiness and Divine Indignation; the placidity of an ordinary married life is the veil of a spiritual passage into profound things. Nor is this all; the lover knows himself also to be the cross upon which the Beloved is stretched, and so she also of her lover. A suggestion of this – probably no more – is to be found merely in the fact of her existence, the sense of her being of ever intimately bound to another which when it is not repose is agony, the state of suspension upon a substance alien and unavoidable for which, though from a more dreadful distance, crucifixion is the only comparison.[15]

This is what most have to learn once their initial, earthly fever for another has worn off – but then, what comes is a greater, more fulfilling love, the love which has been sanctified as a sacrament.

The institutions of the Church, with its canon law, and the teachings of the Church, with its dogmas, however necessary they are, must not be confused as being what the Church is itself about. The institutions are a part of the Church, but they are not the Church; the teachings are expressions of the Church’s faith, but they are not the fullness of that faith.[16] “Therefore, the Church as a society, an institution, an organization, the ‘visible’ or empirical Church, does not wholly coincide with the Church as Divine-humanity, with its noumenal depth, although the empirical is connected with, based on, and permeated by the Church as Divine-humanity.”[17] The visible Church in history is engaging creation, transforming it, allowing it to become one with the Church and to be saved – this is what it means to say no salvation outside of the Church, for all that is saved is saved in and through the Church. How they are saved in the Church, of course, depends upon many factors, factors which we do not always know – for the Church, bringing the world to Christ through the Spirit, brings much into the Church which will be revealed to us as being in the Church at the eschaton.

The Church, as the pillar and ground of the truth, goes out into the world and brings all that is true, all that is good, all that is beautiful into herse;f, for their proper place is in the Church. This is why the Church can take on and accept what is pre-Christian. “Christianity transformed the old world by absorbing it.”[18] It is absorbed: it dies to itself to find itself transformed in the Church, to receive its proper place and glory. She collects the world into herself, finding that the rays of sanctification outside of her, and uses them to draw them into herself, where they find themselves as they were meant to be. This is what is meant by Lumen Gentium: “Nevertheless, many elements of sanctification and truth are found outside its visible confines. Since these are gifts belonging to the church of Christ, they are forces impelling toward catholic unity.”[19] The Church can recognize the holiness and sanctification which happens outside of her historical, empirical boundaries, because she knows that they lead to her. Many of these elements were recognized by the Church in her early years, where she looked to the pagan world and saw what God had done in it:

Although they were hard enough on the philosophers’ proud claims, and made sport of their inability to reach final truth, yet the Fathers had no hesitation in following their teaching and in considering Christian belief in the light of their ideas. The Fathers never understood the “purity of Christianity” in the wholly negative sense adopted by some of their defenders.[20]

The seeds of the Logos are found throughout the world; they have been planted throughout all time and in every place. Until they have been gathered together and brought into the Church, they are still capable of bearing fruit and helping those who follow their dictates. This is what we shall look to next.