In the sacred vision of the tabernacle, crafted by the lawgiver for the Israelites according to the divine pattern revealed on the mount, everything within that enclosure, as well as each individual part, was deemed holy and sacred. Yet, the innermost section remained untouchable and off-limits, designated as the holy of holies. This distinctly named area signifies a level of holiness that far surpasses the rest, akin to how the consecrated is set apart from the ordinary and impure. Thus, I propose that all the blessings previously indicated to us on this mountain are each sanctified, but what is truly revealed is the sanctuary and the holy of holies. If it is not greater than this to behold God, then undoubtedly, to be called a child of God exceeds every good. What terms can adequately express such a promise? Whatever can be imagined is undoubtedly higher than the imagination itself. If we label what is promised in this beatitude as good, valuable, or exalted, then that which is signified is infinitely greater than these descriptors. Success surpasses aspiration, gifts exceed hope, and grace overtakes nature. What is the measure of humanity when compared to God's essence? From which of the saints can I borrow words to describe human frailty? Abraham states, he is only dust and ashes (Gen. 18:27); Isaiah likens him to grass (Is. 40:6); David suggests he is lesser still, merely a resemblance of grass, stating, ‘All flesh is grass’ (Is. 40:6) and ‘Man is like the grass’ (Ps. 36:2). Ecclesiastes calls him vanity; Paul refers to him as ‘undoing’ (1 Cor. 15:10) as the Apostle identifies with the plight of all mankind. Such is humanity; what, then, of God? How can I articulate that which is invisible, inaudible, and beyond comprehension? What expressions can encapsulate His nature? What comparison can be drawn from the goods we know? The insights from sacred Scripture proclaim wondrous truths about the transcendent Nature, yet how do these revelations compare with the reality of that Nature? They convey as much as my capacity allows for comprehension, but surely fall short of capturing the true essence. Just as those who inhale air take only as much as they can, they do not encompass the whole atmosphere, but rather a portion of it; likewise, the theological understandings articulated in Holy Scripture by inspired individuals are vast and profound, exceeding all measurements but never attaining the full measure of truth. It is written: Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and marked off the heavens with a span, and calculated the dust of the earth in a measure? (Is. 40:12). Observe how lofty is the thought of the one who attempts to convey the ineffable power! Yet, what does this signify in relation to the true Existence? The prophetic declarations, expressed in such grand terms, reveal merely a fragment of the Divine action; about the power from which this activity flows, and even more so about the Nature from which the power stems, it remains silent and does not intend to clarify. Instead, it gestures to the Godhead, representing only a glimpse of the Divine, as in the words: To whom will you liken me? (Isa. 46:5), says the Lord. This same sentiment is echoed in Ecclesiastes: Do not be hasty in word before God, for God is in heaven and you are on earth (Eccl. 5:1), suggesting the immeasurable gulf between the nature of God and earthly understandings. This Being, so powerful and vast that He eludes sight, hearing, and understanding, accounts for nothing among created beings; yet, this dust, this grass, this vanity, is accepted as a child of the God of all. What gratitude can be offered for such grace? Is there a word, a thought, or even the slightest notion that could truly honor the abundance of such grace? Humanity is lifted from the confines of its nature, transforming from mortal to immortal, from perishable to eternal, in essence from man to God; for one who attains to be a child of God undoubtedly inherits the dignity of the Father, becoming an heir to all paternal blessings. What generosity from the bounteous Lord! What an expansive hand! What tremendous gifts of unspeakable treasure! To elevate a nature so diminished by sin to near equality with Himself! If the essence of His being is bestowed upon humanity, what declaration of our kinship could be more emphatic than this? This is the reward; what then is the task? It is said, Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God. It appears to me that the labor for which such a reward is granted is itself a fresh gift; for in the enjoyment of worldly delights, what could be sweeter for peaceful souls? For all pleasure in life requires peace; for even if all worldly goods—wealth, health, family, service, friendship—abound, without the blessing of peace, their enjoyment is rendered void by conflict. Therefore, peace is truly delightful for those who cherish it in life, mitigating all worldly tribulations. Even in moments of calamity during peace, the evil caused by adversity can grow bearable, transformed by goodness. When life is overshadowed by war, individual sorrows may be dulled, overshadowed by the collective grief. Physicians of the body say that when two diseases afflict one body simultaneously, the stronger illness renders the other less perceptible; thus, the overwhelming troubles of war can numb individuals to their own sufferings. Yet, if the soul, already numb to its affliction by the overarching calamity of conflict, is deprived of any sense of joy, then what room remains for pleasant thoughts? Amidst the clamor of conflict—the clash of weapons, the roar of battle—who could find a moment to reflect on the cheerful? If a memory of joy enters the heart in such turmoil, does it not amplify one’s distress by conjuring a cherished recollection? Therefore, He who rewards you for averting the shackles of war grants you two gifts: the reward itself and the act of peacemaking. For if there were no hope of reward, the peace itself would be cherished more by those who pursue it than the thought of a reward. Thus, the fullness of God’s compassion is recognized in this: He bestows bountiful rewards for joys and not merely for toil; for among all that brings cheer, the paramount good is peace, which each yearns to possess—not only for themselves but also to share with those lacking it. For it is written, Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God; a peacemaker is one who extends peace to others. But one cannot impart what he lacks himself. Hence, one must first be filled with the goodness of peace before offering it to those in need. There is no need for extensive exploration to grasp the concept of goodness; the declaration is sufficient to understand. Blessed are the peacemakers. Scripture succinctly presents a remedy for numerous ills within this encompassing statement. Let us first consider: what is peace? Essentially, it is a loving regard for one’s neighbor. Conversely, what stands in opposition to love? Hatred, anger, irritation, envy, vindictiveness, hypocrisy, and the scourge of warfare. Do you see how many afflictions one statement serves to counter? The world stands against all that harms and seeks to destroy what brings about disorder. Just as health returns when illness departs, and light dispels darkness, peace eradicates all passions stirred by strife. What goodness it promotes requires no further elaboration. Consider for yourself: what life entails suspicion and enmity? Meetings suffer from discomfort; mutual disdain pervades interactions; silence reigns; eyes avert; ears shut against friendly words; what displeases one delights the other, and vice versa. As fragrance fills the air with its essence: so may the Lord abundantly increase the grace of peace in your lives, making you a remedy for others' afflictions. The immeasurable goodness of peace can be appreciated by examining every turmoil born of hostile will. Who can aptly delineate the furious onslaught of anger? What words can portray the disgrace of such turmoil? The frenzied outbursts of those consumed by irritation mirror the actions of the possessed. Compare the suffering of the demonized with that of the irritable and discern the similarities. The bloodshot, wild eyes of the afflicted, the incoherent speech, the jagged voice, convulsive movements of the limbs—both malice and demonic torment manifest alike. The difference rests merely in the voluntary versus involuntary nature of one’s despair. How much more lamentable is it when one chooses to suffer from within? Witness the possessed person inspires pity; yet, those in the throes of irritation are noticed, but their folly is often mimicked, revealing an affliction they cannot overcome. The demon torments the body, while the tormentor of irritability inflicts harm voluntarily; when the latter overwhelms, bitterness rises within, drowning out other sensible thoughts. The eyes bulge, blood vessels throb, speech is distorted—these are the common actions observable in wrath and demonic affliction alike. Both expressions of evil may clash violently, yet one thrives on the propensity to inflict suffering voluntarily; how much more dreadful is this abyss? From irritation arises disunity, threatening even the primary senses. If in this struggle, a mouth finds closeness, the teeth become weapons, tearing at the flesh. Who can articulate all the miseries stemming from anger? Thus, anyone who withstands such indignities on account of profound kindness deserves honor. If someone who alleviates bodily suffering is deemed worthy of reverence, how much greater esteem should one receive who liberates the soul from such affliction? For the soul is nobler than the body; therefore, a healer of the soul eclipses those who heal the body. Moreover, I do not suppose that the disturbance wrought by irritation qualifies as worse than the malevolent acts of hatred. Passions such as envy and hypocrisy present an even graver situation, hidden behind a veil of duplicity. Those who harbor concealed ire, lurking like quiet beasts, inflict wounds unexpectedly, much like those who hide malicious intentions beneath a facade of kindness. Such are the subtleties of envy and pretense, where hatred simmers quietly, cloaked in a mask of friendship, analogous to a flame shrouded by straw—it burns within, but flickers not, only releasing acrid smoke until ignited anew. Envy consumes the heart like a hidden fire. Though it may aim to remain discreet out of shame, it cannot entirely vanish, manifesting sour signs of its effects. When misfortune befalls an envied soul, the envious conspicuously reveal their inner turmoil, taking pleasure in the suffering of their neighbor. The hidden wounds of this passion emerge through clear expressions on the face, resembling the signs of one nearing death. The cause of such sickness is the joy of a brother, kin, or neighbor; how unjust is this? To resent another's prosperity, deeming it an affront, without having suffered injury, only adds to one’s folly. What affliction compels your bitterness towards another’s happiness? Why do you sour at their success? Is it that they bear physical beauty? Or eloquence? Or noble birth? Or esteemed status? Or wealth? Or sagacity? Or familial joy? Why let these perceived inequities torment your heart? Your hands clench, your fingers intertwine with tension, your thoughts spiral in distress; you sigh deeply, finding bitterness in each meal, sorrow in your surroundings. Your ears eagerly await gossip about those who thrive; yet, any praise falls on deaf ears. Why the pretense of friendship draped over this inner turmoil? Why greet with respect yet harbor contrary thoughts? Such was Cain, driven by envy of God’s favor upon Abel, prompting hatred’s lethal design. Thus, one who eradicates such afflictions from humanity binds the community in goodwill, forging peaceful bonds, and is truly engaged in a divine mission—removing malaise while establishing blessings anew. The Lord, therefore, bestows upon peacemakers the title of child of God; for in fostering peace, they emulate the true God.
THEOSIS