Pope Benedict begins "Sacramentum Caritatis" with the statement that "the Holy Eucharist is the gift Jesus Christ makes of himself, thus revealing to us God's infinite love for every man and woman".

 

Sometime in the early 1980s my grandmother gave my siblings and I two works of fiction by John White: The Tower of Geburah and The Iron Sceptre, both of which I read and re-read. In one of those books one of the main characters is captured by an evil jinn. The jinn is able by magic to make food and even a bathroom with a shower. But the magical food conjured up by the jinn does not satisfy one's appetite, and the soap does not ever get one clean. The jinn admits that he cannot make food that truly satisfies, or soap that truly cleans. He says that only Gaal [Christ] can make food that truly satisfies, and soap that truly cleans.

 

That made an impression on me, and the metaphysical underpinnings became clearer only later when I started studying Augustine, who shows pace the Manicheans that evil is not only a privation of good, but also a privation of being. One can find this principle throughout Aquinas, and also throughout the works of C.S. Lewis. We more readily perceive the ways in which Lewis opposes gnosticism in his affirmation of the goodness of matter, but his opposition to Manicheanism tends to be less noticed, although it is no less prevalent.

 

Voluntarism is Manichean insofar as it denies the intrinsic relation of being and goodness. Voluntarism treats evil as merely a formal negation, not as an ontological privation. Voluntarism is relevant to discussions of the Eucharist because voluntarism typically underlies the treatment of the Eucharist as merely symbolic. What unites me to Christ, given voluntarism, is fundamentally either God's will or my will, or some conjunction of God's will and my will, hence the merely symbolic notion of baptism as well. What constitutes union with Christ, given voluntarism, is formal unity, i.e. an alignment of wills. The idea that one is saved by "saying a sinner's prayer", for example, treats salvation as entirely a formal union between God and man. As adding time and motion to pure mathematics gives us what Maritain calls physico-mathematical knowledge, so likewise adding time and motion to voluntarism gives us forensic conceptions of salvation. There is nothing wrong with physico-mathematical knowledge; it is simply incomplete. Likewise, there is nothing wrong with forensic notions of salvation; they are simply incomplete, being yet only formal.

 

The traditional position of Augustine and the Church, does not deny formal unity, but it does not reduce salvation merely to a formal union of God and man. The union of God with man is also ontological, as is the union of the Son and the Spirit with the Father, and as is the union of the Son with human nature in the miracle of the incarnation. A greater unity can become a lesser unity only by taking up that lesser unity into itself, otherwise the greater unity ceases to exist. The ontological unity between God and man effected in the incarnation can be achieved only by way of an incarnation. (The principle of causality shows the impossibility of an incarnationally-independent apotheosis in which man becomes God, and anything less than "becoming God" falls short of the unity of God and man effected in the incarnation.) Yet there are not multiple incarnations; there is only one. Thus our ontological union with God cannot bypass the incarnation of Christ Jesus, but must take place through the one hypostatic union. That is why we cannot come to the Father except through the man Christ Jesus. To be ontologically united to God, I must be ontologically united to Christ through becoming ontologically (not merely formally) united to His human nature. In other words, I must become one flesh with Him. The marriage of Christ and His bride is not the consequence of our salvation; it is our salvation.

 

How then do I become one flesh with Christ? First, through the mystery of baptism. Paul tells us that we are "baptized into Christ Jesus". We are baptized "into His death", "buried with Him through baptism". In Romans chapter 6 we see that in baptism we are united to Christ in His death and resurrection. This is not merely figurative language; in baptism we are ontologically united to Christ's death and resurrection in such a way that the character effected in our soul by our baptism is indelible. Although baptism is the first step in our union with Christ, it is by its nature an initializing step, and thus a step that can never be repeated. Unlike the Eucharist, baptism is not a form of union that deepens the union upon repetition. In 1 Corinthians 15 we see that Christ is the second Adam. The blood and water that flowed from Christ's pierced side are the rib out of which the Bride of Christ is made. In baptism we are immersed into the water that flowed from His side, and thus buried with Him and then reborn in His resurrection; this is why the baptism of catechumens takes place on Easter, for in baptism we are joined to Him in His death and resurrection.[1]

 

The second sacramental step in our union with Christ is confirmation, also called chrismation. Like baptism, this is a non-repeatable sacrament. It is also, in a certain respect, a continuation of our baptism. The Eastern Orthodox typically apply chrismation immediately after baptism. And the Catholic Catechism says that confirmation is "necessary for the completion of baptismal grace", hence the term "confirmation" used in the West. How does the sacrament of confirmation unite us to Christ? In confirmation we are filled with the Holy Spirit. In this way we are united to Christ, who is Himself filled with the Holy Spirit. In John 20:22 the resurrected Jesus breathes on His disciples and says, "Receive the Holy Spirit". In confirmation by the imposition of the hands of the bishop (whose anointing comes from the Apostles through apostolic succession) we are united to Christ by receiving His very breath, that is, the Holy Spirit. If one thinks of being "filled" with the Holy Spirit as a cup is filled with water, then it will seem that being filled with the Holy Spirit is not a means of union with Christ, for two cups filled with water are not thereby made one. But 'filled' is only an analogy; the reality is much richer. Nor is our union with the Spirit akin to demonic possession, where our freedom is restricted. Nor again is our union with the Spirit merely formal, as though we merely have the same mind as the Spirit (e.g. we both believe that 2+2=4 and the murder is wrong, etc., etc.). Our union with the Holy Spirit is ontological, not in a way that destroys or blots out our human nature, but one that elevates and fulfills our human nature. Our resurrected bodies, for example, are spiritual and yet material. The hypostatic union overflows into our human nature, as we are joined to Christ, and we find that our resurrected bodies take on spiritual characteristics. Similarly, being filled with the Holy Spirit truly gives us the mind and heart and life of Christ. We become one with Him in Spirit.[2]

 

The most important sacrament in Christian initiation is the third and last, the Eucharist. The Eucharist is not like the first two sacraments, in that it is intended to be repeated, as our regular spiritual nourishment. How are we united to Christ in the Eucharist? We feed on His flesh and blood (cf. John 6). When a lesser unity is joined to a greater unity, the lesser unity becomes part of the greater unity. So likewise, in partaking of the Eucharist, it is more accurate to say that we become joined to Him, incorporated into His Body. St. Paul tells us that because we eat one bread, therefore we are one body. "Since there is one bread, we who are many are one body; for we all partake of the one bread." (1 Cor 10:17) That only makes sense because the bread is Christ. Christians are joined to each other in the "communion of the saints", into the mystical body of Christ, through our partaking of the body of Christ in the Eucharist. We are made one with each other, and with the Father and the Spirit, by physically partaking of the flesh of the Son who is, according to His divine nature, Pure Unity. In partaking of the Eucharist, as with all the sacraments, we enter heaven across that bridge than which none is greater: the hypostatic union. In the Eucharist, Pope Benedict says, Christ gives us Himself. "Take, eat, this is my body." His flesh is our daily bread, the true manna. His blood is our eternal life, for the life is in the blood. Unlike the Eutychians, we do not confuse Christ's two natures. But we are much more prone to Nestorianism than to Eutychianism. The hypostatic union does not diminish Christ's divine nature, but it does elevate His human nature. The asymmetry should not surprise us; it is the necessary outcome of the union of the infinite and finite. The fullness of deity dwelt in every cell in His body; more precisely, every cell in His body was fully (not partially) divine, because His body was fully divine, because that human was fully divine, because that Person is the fully divine Logos.[3]

 

 

 

 

 

 



[1]For some helpful quotations from the fathers on the relation between baptism and the water that flowed from Christ's side, see here.

[2]Regarding baptism and confirmation Tertullian writes (De resurr, carnis, n, 8): "The flesh is washed that the soul may be made stainless. The flesh is anointed [ungitur] that the soul may be consecrated. The flesh is sealed [signatur] that the soul may be fortified. The flesh is overshadowed by the imposition of hands that the soul may be illuminated by the Spirit, The flesh is fed by the Body and Blood of Christ that the soul may be fattened of God." And (Adv, Marcion., i, n. 14): "But He [Christ], indeed even at the present time, neither rejected the water of the Creator with which He washes clean His own, nor the oil with which He anoints His own; . . . nor the bread with which He makes present [repr�sentat] His own very body, needing even in His own sacraments the beggarly elements of the Creator."

[3]I am reminded of Fr. Kimel's "Eleventh Law": "It doesn�t matter how vigorously you protest your belief in the eucharistic real presence: if you are not willing and eager to prostrate yourself before the Holy Gifts and adore, worship, and pray to the glorified Lord Jesus Christ, present under the forms of bread and wine, you really do not believe in the real presence."