However, since the Jews, in their disbelief, clung to the commands of Moses and presumed that their ancient customs still held sway, He permits the leper to make the offering as a witness to them. What, then, was His purpose in this allowance? The Jews, ever using their reverence for the law as an excuse, and claiming that Moses was the minister of a divine command, sought to disrespect Christ, our Savior. They openly declared, 'We know that God spoke to Moses, but we do not know where this man comes from.' Thus, it was essential for them to see through concrete evidence that the glory of Christ surpasses that of Moses: 'For he was indeed faithful as a servant in his house, but the other is a Son assigned over His Father’s house.' From the very act of healing the leper, we clearly discern the superiority of Christ over the Mosaic law. Consider Miriam, Moses' sister, who was stricken with leprosy for speaking against him; Moses was deeply troubled and interceded to God, saying, 'O God, I implore You, heal her.' Note carefully: on one hand, there was a plea, as he sought mercy through prayer; on the other, the Savior spoke with divine authority, saying, 'I will: be cleansed.' Thus, the healing of leprosy served as a sign to the priests, urging those who have elevated Moses to recognize their deviation from the truth. While it is appropriate to regard Moses as an honorable servant of the law and a steward of grace delivered by angels, our admiration must far exceed that for Emmanuel, rendering Him glory as the true Son of God the Father.
Indeed, whoever desires can discern the deep and powerful mystery of Christ as depicted in Leviticus. The law of Moses considers the leper unclean and mandates his exclusion from the camp; however, if his affliction should be alleviated, it stipulates his eligibility for readmission. Furthermore, it prescribes how he is to be declared clean, stating, 'This is the law for the leper, on the day he has been cleansed and brought to the priest. The priest shall go out to the camp, examine him, and if the leprosy has healed, the high priest shall command that two living clean birds be taken for the one who is to be cleansed... one bird shall be killed in an earthen vessel over running water.' The two birds are flawless, free from the burden of sin according to the law: one is sacrificed over living water, while the other, spared and further baptized in the blood of the slain bird, is released alive. This symbolism reveals the grand and glorious mystery of our Savior. For the Word descended from above, originating from the Father, which is why He is aptly likened to a bird; although He assumed our likeness and took on the form of a servant, He remains from on high. Indeed, He stated to the Jews, 'You are from below; I am from above.' He noted again, 'No one has ascended into heaven except the Son of Man who descended from heaven.’ Thus, even in His incarnation, where He became truly human, He was not of the earth like us; rather, He was heavenly and superior to earthly matters in His divine essence.
In the birds presented during the leper’s cleansing, we can perceive Christ indeed suffering in the flesh as the Scriptures proclaim, but also transcending the realm of suffering; dying in His humanity yet living in His divinity because 'the Word is Life' itself. The astute disciple articulated this succinctly: 'He was put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit.' Although the Word could not experience death in His nature, He identifies with the suffering experienced by His flesh: hence, the living bird becomes baptized in the blood of the dead one; through this act, stained with blood and almost sharing in the suffering, it is sent into the wilderness. Thus, the Only-begotten Word of God ascended into heaven with His flesh united to Him. A remarkable sight it was in heaven; even the myriad of angels were astonished to see the King of the earth and Lord of hosts in our form, asking, 'Who is this that comes from Edom?'—signifying the earth—'His garments are red from Bosor,' understood as flesh, representing the constraints of mortality. They further questioned, 'Are those the wounds in the midst of Your hands?' To which He replied, 'With these I was wounded in the house of My beloved.' Just as after His resurrection He invited Thomas to behold His wounds, showing him His hands and side, so upon His arrival in heaven, He presented clear evidence to the holy angels that Israel had justly been cast aside and estranged from His family. Therefore, He revealed His blood-stained garment and the wounds in His hands—not as though He could not remove them. For upon rising from the dead, He shed the decay and all its marks; He retained them for the sake of manifesting the manifold wisdom of God, accomplished in Christ, to principalities and powers through the Church in accordance with the divine plan of salvation.
However, one might inquire, how can you assert that Jesus Christ is both Son and Lord while offering two birds? Does this not suggest the existence of two distinct Sons and Christs? Indeed, there have been instances when individuals have fallen into such folly, believing and declaring that the Word of God the Father is one separate Christ and that He who comes from David's lineage is another. Yet to such individuals, we respond with the words of the Apostle Paul: 'One Lord, one faith, one baptism.' If they claim two Sons, there must logically exist two Lords, two faiths, and two baptisms. Consequently, even if one professes to carry Christ in their heart, their teaching remains false. But this is inconceivable; we vehemently reject such notions! We acknowledge one Lord, the Only-begotten incarnate Word of God, not separating the human from the divine but affirming that through the Word of God, the Father became man while still being God.
Let those who disagree speak now. They may say, if there are indeed two distinct Sons, one from the lineage of David and the other, the Word of God the Father, must not the Father’s Word be of superior nature to the one from David's lineage? How, then, do we reference the two birds, which are not distinct in nature from each other, but rather of the same kind with no specific difference? Their argument yields nothing; there exists a vast chasm between the divine and human natures. When employing illustrations, we understand them in relation to their fitting analogy, but they frequently fall short of embodying the full truth and may only represent portions of their significance. Furthermore, we assert that the law is akin to a shadow, a type, a representation that visually conveys deeper truths to its viewers: in art, the shadows serve as the foundation for the colors; when the vibrant colors apply, the painting achieves its full beauty. Similarly, since it was essential for the law of Moses to clearly depict the mystery of Christ, it does not represent Him as both dying and living in a single bird, lest it present the scene as a theatrical deception; instead, it illustrates Him experiencing death in one bird while showcasing the other as alive and liberated.
Yet I will strive to demonstrate that my reasoning here remains within the bounds of reason through another narrative. If one were to depict the story of Abraham as a painting, how would that artist illustrate it? Would he portray him as engaging in every task simultaneously? Or would he show him in different roles, as one individual, acting in varied yet sequential actions? Picture him at one moment riding the donkey with the boy beside him and servants behind; then, in another scene, the donkey rests with the servants while Isaac carries the wood, and Abraham holds the knife and fire. In another section, the same Abraham is depicted in a starkly different scenario, with Isaac bound atop the wood, his right hand poised with the knife ready to deliver the blow. Yet, in these various depictions, it is still one Abraham portrayed, despite the many forms, the artist’s skill adapting to meet the narrative's demands. It would be unrealistic for one image to convey all these actions at once.
Thus, the law is a reflection and type of real truths, and even with the two birds offered, He who is represented remains but One—suffering and beyond suffering, dying yet triumphant over death, ascending to heaven as a sort of first fruits of our renewed humanity. He has paved a new path for us to that which lies above, and in due course, we shall follow Him. The slaying of one bird and the baptism of the other in its blood, while remaining unharmed, point to the reality of what was to occur. For Christ died on our behalf, and through our baptism into His death, we are saved by His precious blood.
THEOSIS