Today I finished cover to cover The King in His Beauty by Thomas Schreiner (714 pages, ISBN: 978-0801039393). The King in His Beauty, published by Baker Academic, is one of the best biblical theologies I have read because Schreiner consistently works from the text itself and lets the theology develop across the canon. What stood out to me was not simply his kingdom theme, but his repeated return to covenant, obedience, judgment, perseverance, holiness, eschatology, and the work of Christ, as he takes these up and clarifies them from one part of Scripture to another. The book is extensive, but necessarily so for what it is attempting to cover. I found some sections stronger than others, with Hebrews being one of the clearest examples of Schreiner at his best, particularly in his treatment of Christ as Priest-King in the order of Melchizedek. More than anything, the book strengthened my understanding of how the biblical witness holds together around Christ without requiring every biblical book to say the same thing in the same way.
Introduction
Schreiner’s The King in His Beauty: A Biblical Theology of the Old and New Testaments seeks to cover the whole canon as a developing theological history rather than a collection of isolated books or doctrines. Schreiner’s principal concern is the kingdom of God and the glory of God as King, but the book’s breadth means that several other themes repeatedly rise to the surface as the biblical story moves forward. Because he works canonically, those themes are not treated as detached topics. They develop through promise, failure, judgment, fulfillment, and expectation, and their meaning often becomes clearer only after later portions of Scripture revisit them.
What follows is not an attempt to summarize every section of the book. I am more interested in the things that remained with me after finishing it: the recurrence of covenant, obedience, judgment, perseverance, and eschatological hope; the way Christ’s work and identity gather together earlier biblical patterns; and, especially, Schreiner’s treatment of Hebrews, where Christ as Priest-King after the order of Melchizedek brings sacrifice, covenant, kingship, intercession, obedience, holiness, and endurance into unusually close relation. I also want to note where the book led my own thinking further, particularly on obedience arising from inward transformation and on the distinction between finally seeing the King and participating in the life of Christ already begun in this present age.
Book Review
Thomas Schreiner’s The King in His Beauty is a large book because it is trying to do something large: trace the biblical theology of the Old and New Testaments as one story without pretending that every biblical writer says everything in exactly the same way. Schreiner’s stated emphasis is the kingdom of God, and that certainly carries the book, but I did not finish it thinking only about kingdom. Covenant kept coming back. So did obedience, judgment, perseverance, holiness, sacrifice, priesthood, promise and fulfillment, and of course the person and work of Christ. Some of those themes become clearer only after they have been sitting there for a long time. Hundreds of pages, in some cases. That is part of what makes the book work. Schreiner generally lets the biblical text develop before trying to close the argument too quickly.
The beginning is familiar enough, but Schreiner makes the early material carry forward. God creates, humanity bears His image, and man is placed under His rule with a real vocation before Him (Gen. 1:26–28). The fall is rebellion, not merely a mistake or moral defect (Gen. 3:1–19). With Abraham come land, offspring, blessing, and blessing for the nations (Gen. 12:1–3; 15:1–21; 17:1–8), and with the Exodus comes a people redeemed not into independence but into belonging to God (Exod. 6:6–8; 19:3–6). I think that point matters more than it is sometimes given credit for. Redemption in Scripture does not mean God frees a people and then leaves them to themselves. He brings them to Himself. That is why tabernacle, priesthood, sacrifice, purity, and holiness follow. God intends to dwell among them (Exod. 25:8; 29:45–46), which immediately raises the question Leviticus keeps pressing: how does the Holy One dwell among sinful people? Sacrifice and cleansing are not side issues. Neither is holiness (Lev. 16; 19:1–2).
Israel’s history makes the deeper problem harder to avoid. They receive the land, but the land does not change them. Then kingship comes, David receives the promise of an enduring house and kingdom (2 Sam. 7:8–16), and still the same problem remains. Kings fail. The people fail. Idolatry spreads. Judgment comes. The temple is lost and exile follows. Yet the promises of God are not withdrawn. I thought Schreiner handled that tension especially well because he did not rush past the ugliness of Israel’s failure just to get to fulfillment. The Prophets announce judgment because covenant unfaithfulness is real, but they also begin speaking about something God Himself will have to do: a righteous Davidic ruler, forgiveness, a new covenant, a new heart, the Spirit, restoration, and the nations coming under God’s saving rule (Isa. 9:6–7; 11:1–10; 52:13–53:12; Jer. 31:31–34; Ezek. 36:25–27). By then the answer cannot simply be better circumstances. The person has to change.
That became one of the more important things I took from the book. Obedience does not disappear when grace enters the discussion. Scripture simply will not allow that. But neither does the answer become, try harder. Jeremiah speaks of the law written upon the heart (Jer. 31:33), and Ezekiel of a new heart and Spirit, with God causing His people to walk in His statutes (Ezek. 36:26–27). That is different. Obedience comes from transformation. I would probably put it that simply. Not obedience as another ground of salvation beside grace, but the obedience that begins to appear because God has acted within the person. Once I started noticing that, I saw it almost everywhere in the later parts of the book.
Christ comes into a story already full of unfinished things. That is one of Schreiner’s better achievements. Jesus is not presented merely as the answer to scattered predictions. He is David’s Son (Matt. 1:1; Luke 1:32–33), the Son of Man who receives dominion (Dan. 7:13–14; Mark 14:61–62), the suffering servant (Isa. 52:13–53:12; Mark 10:45), and the obedient Son where Israel had not been obedient (Matt. 2:15; 4:1–11). Kingship, covenant, sacrifice, temple, sonship, the Spirit—all of it starts gathering around Him. There are places where “fulfillment” almost feels too small a word for what is happening. The earlier realities do not merely predict Him. They find their completion in Him.
Schreiner’s treatment of eschatology also stayed with me. The kingdom has come, but not in its final condition. Christ has died, risen, ascended, and poured out the Spirit, so something genuinely new has happened. Believers have already been transferred into the kingdom of the Son (Col. 1:13), yet still pray, “Thy kingdom come” (Matt. 6:10). The Spirit is already given as firstfruits and guarantee, while bodily redemption remains ahead (Rom. 8:23; Eph. 1:13–14). That tension explains a great deal of the New Testament. Salvation is possessed and awaited. Life has begun, but death is still here. Judgment remains. Resurrection remains. And this is where perseverance stops looking like an uncomfortable doctrinal appendix. Of course perseverance matters if the Christian has entered the coming age but has not yet reached its completion.
Paul fits that larger picture well. I appreciated that Schreiner did not leave salvation sitting only in one category. Justification has to retain its forensic force (Rom. 3:21–28; 4:1–8; 5:1; Gal. 2:15–21; Phil. 3:8–9). I would resist any reading that turns it into something else. But Paul also says the believer is crucified with Christ (Gal. 2:20), buried and raised with Him (Rom. 6:3–5), indwelt by the Spirit (Rom. 8:9–11), adopted (Rom. 8:14–17), and being conformed to the image of the Son (Rom. 8:29). So salvation changes standing before God, yes, but not standing only. Romans 8:13 is one of those verses that will not let the Christian life become passive: “if ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live.” The believer acts, but through the Spirit. There it is again—grace producing action rather than replacing it.
Hebrews was probably my favorite portion of the book, or at least the one I kept returning to afterward. Schreiner is particularly strong here. Covenant, sacrifice, priesthood, kingship, obedience, holiness, perseverance, judgment, access to God, and final rest all come together without feeling forced. Christ is the enthroned Son at the right hand of God (Heb. 1:3, 13), but He is also Priest after the order of Melchizedek (Heb. 5:5–6; 6:19–20; 7:15–17; cf. Gen. 14:18–20; Ps. 110:1, 4). Priest and King. That connection through Psalm 110 is one of the things I do not think I will read casually again. His priesthood is not grounded in Levitical descent but in divine oath (Heb. 7:20–22); His sacrifice is once for all (Heb. 10:10–14); and because He lives forever, He “ever liveth to make intercession” for those who come to God through Him (Heb. 7:25). There is a completeness to Christ’s priesthood in Hebrews that is hard to overstate.
And Hebrews is where obedience from transformation becomes especially concrete. Christ Himself “learned…obedience by the things which he suffered” and became “the author of eternal salvation unto all them that obey him” (Heb. 5:8–9). I do not read that as though the Son had once been disobedient; His obedience was lived out through suffering and brought to its appointed end. Then the new covenant promise appears: God writes His laws upon the mind and heart (Heb. 8:10; 10:16). After that, the commands of Hebrews make sense in their proper place. Draw near. Hold fast. Endure. Pursue holiness. Encourage one another. Do good (Heb. 10:22–25, 35–36; 12:1–2, 14; 13:15–16). None of those things creates access to God. Christ has already opened the way. They are what life begins to look like after He has. The closing benediction almost settles the question for me: God equips His people “in every good work to do his will,” while He Himself is “working in you that which is wellpleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ” (Heb. 13:20–21). Both are true. I see no reason to soften either one.
The warning passages deserve the same treatment. Schreiner lets them remain warnings, which I appreciated. Israel in the wilderness “could not enter in because of unbelief” (Heb. 3:19), and Hebrews immediately turns that history toward Christians: “Take heed, brethren” (3:12), “Let us therefore fear” (4:1), “Let us labour therefore to enter into that rest” (4:11). Yet those warnings sit right beside the oath and promise of God and the continuing intercession of Christ (Heb. 6:13–20; 7:25). “We are made partakers of Christ, if we hold the beginning of our confidence stedfast unto the end” (Heb. 3:14). I had considered perseverance before, obviously, but reading it here in relation to participation in Christ, covenant, priesthood, and final inheritance gave it a different weight. Less like a doctrinal problem to solve and more like the actual shape of the Christian pilgrimage.
The title itself also changed somewhat for me by the end. Isaiah says, “Thine eyes shall see the king in his beauty” (Isa. 33:17), and Scripture does move toward seeing God: “they shall see God” (Matt. 5:8), “then face to face” (1 Cor. 13:12), “we shall see him as he is” (1 John 3:2), and finally “they shall see his face” (Rev. 22:4). That certainly approaches what later Christian theology calls the Beatific Vision. Still, I hesitate to let vision carry the whole thing. Hebrews says that God disciplines His children so that they may become “partakers of his holiness” (Heb. 12:10), and then says that without holiness no one will “see the Lord” (12:14). Participation and vision are close, but they are not identical. Seeing is receptive; participation is a manner of life and being. Even now the believer abides in Christ, is indwelt by the Spirit, shares in the communion of His body and blood, belongs to His body, serves others in relation to Him, and is being changed into His likeness (John 15:4–5; Rom. 8:9–11; 1 Cor. 10:16–17; 12:27; 2 Cor. 3:18). So no, I do not think the end is simply spectatorship before God.
That is probably where my own emphasis goes a little beyond Schreiner’s kingdom framework, though not against it. Kingdom is biblical. Clearly. But presence and union with Christ help explain what the kingdom is for. Scripture moves from Eden to tabernacle, temple, incarnation, indwelling Spirit, and finally to, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them” (Rev. 21:3). The King reigns, but He also brings His people near. They are not only subjects under His rule; they are members of Christ’s body, branches in the vine, partakers of holiness, and finally a glorified people dwelling before God. I am not sure I would have put the pieces together in exactly that way before finishing the book. Maybe that is one of the better things a biblical theology can do—it leaves you following some of its lines beyond the author’s own stated center.
In the end, The King in His Beauty helped me see more clearly how the parts of Scripture belong together. Leviticus corresponds to Hebrews. David and Psalm 110 open up Christ as Priest-King. Exile gives the prophetic promises of restoration their weight. Jeremiah and Ezekiel make clear that the new covenant reaches into the person through forgiveness, a new heart, the Spirit, and obedience that follows from that work of God. The Prophets prepare the ground for the Gospels, and the resurrection of Christ begins what Revelation finally shows in fullness. I do not agree with Schreiner at every point, but that was never what I was looking for from the book. I wanted to see whether his biblical theology would send me back into Scripture with clearer lines of connection, and it did. By the end, I was thinking much more about the full meaning of salvation in Christ: what He accomplished where fallen humanity and Israel failed, the people He gathers to Himself, and the life He forms in them through grace, faith, holiness, obedience, and perseverance. The story reaches its end in the presence of God. His people see the King in His beauty, but they arrive there already having been brought near, made alive in Christ, and conformed to Him.
Having completed John Behr’s book, The Mystery of Christ: Life in Death, I felt driven to write a review posted here because of his perspectives as a Patristics Scholar and his background as an Eastern Orthodox priest. He is a prominent theologian and scholar and has served as the Dean of St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary in New York. Behr is well-regarded for his extensive work on Patristic theology, the writings of the Church Fathers, and the theology of the Orthodox Church. His ordination and active participation in the Orthodox Church deeply inform his theological writings and teachings. His views have further shaped my understanding of the faith. Writing this review was necessary to cover his thoughts on the subject matter of this book as it deepened my appreciation of Christ’s presence and work in new and profound ways.
Introduction
The Mystery of Christ: Life in Death by John Behr immerses the reader into more theological and fruitful ideas integral to Christianity. The book focuses on the mystery of Christ Jesus—who He is, why He came to earth, and what His life, death, and resurrection mean today. Behr thoroughly draws on scripture and the teachings of the early Church, especially the writings of early Church Fathers, to help explain these ideas in a way that connects the past with the present.
The book starts by discussing how early Christians understood Jesus and His active participation in God’s plan. Behr emphasizes that understanding Christ isn’t just about knowing facts or history—it’s about experiencing the mystery of who He is and what He did to fulfill the decrees of God’s divine economy. The book looks at how scripture and the teachings of the Church guide believers in this journey of understanding, showing how these ancient texts are critically necessary today.
As The Mystery of Christ is read, it is clear how Behr carefully synthesizes different elements of Christian belief, like the significance of the cross, the meaning of the resurrection, and the role of the Church. The book encourages readers to think about these topics and live them out in their own lives. It’s a thoughtful guide for anyone who wants to dig deeper into the Christian faith and understand more about the profound mystery that lies at its heart.
Synthesis
Creation-centered on Christ – The Cross, and coincidence of opposites
Apostolic Witness of Christ – Scripture & tradition
The Imminence of Christ – Salvific & creative process of people (justification)
The Virgin Mother – Church as a source of sanctification; Word and Spirit through church
Glorify God in Your Body – Ambivalence of the body and ambivalence of the passions toward the formation of the body and soul for Christ
Through the Cross
In the first chapter, titled “Through the Cross,” the focus is on how the true encounter with Christ is experienced through His crucifixion. The cross, a symbol of suffering and death, is paradoxically the place where God’s love and salvation are most powerfully revealed. To encounter Christ through the cross means to come face to face with the reality of God’s self-giving love, a love that willingly enters into the depths of human suffering and death. It is in this moment of apparent defeat and loss that the true victory of God is manifested. The cross, therefore, becomes the central point of authentic faith, where believers are called to see beyond the physical suffering to the deeper spiritual reality of God’s redemption.
The chapter also examines how God is revealed in the most unexpected and contradictory way—through the humiliation, weakness, and suffering of the crucifixion. Traditionally, God is often associated with power, glory, and life, yet in Christ, God chose to reveal Himself in weakness, shame, and death. This revelation challenges human expectations and conventional understandings of divinity. The cross shows that God’s ways are not our ways; His power is made perfect in weakness. In this divine paradox, God’s true nature is disclosed not in the triumph of worldly power but in the self-emptying love of Christ on the cross. This profound mystery invites believers to reconsider their notions of power, success, and what it means to truly know God.
John Behr highlights Saint Gregory of Nyssa’s principle of the “coincidence of opposites” to illuminate the paradoxical nature of God’s divine economy, particularly in understanding the mystery of Christ. This principle is essential in Behr’s exploration of how God reveals Himself in ways that transcend human logic and expectations. According to Gregory, divine truth often manifests in paradoxes, where seemingly contradictory realities are held together in a unified whole. Behr adopts this idea to demonstrate how the central events of salvific faith—Christ’s incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection—embody this paradoxical truth.
In his examination of the cross, Behr emphasizes that it is precisely in the apparent weakness, shame, and death of the crucifixion that God’s ultimate power, glory, and life are revealed. This is a prime example of the coincidence of opposites. The cross, an instrument of torture and death, becomes the means through which life and salvation are offered to the world. This paradox challenges the typical human understanding of power and victory, showing that God’s ways are fundamentally different from human ways. Behr uses Gregory’s principle to argue that to truly grasp the mystery of Christ, one must embrace these divine paradoxes, understanding that God’s truth is not always found in straightforward, logical explanations but in the reconciliation of opposites.
Search the Scriptures
John Behr makes significant use of Christ’s words in John 5:39—”You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me”—to emphasize that the true locus of meaning in the Christian faith is found in the person of Christ rather than in the Scriptures themselves as an end in themselves. Behr argues that while the Scriptures are vital and sacred, their ultimate purpose is to lead believers to Christ, who is the fulfillment and embodiment of all that the Scriptures point toward. This perspective shifts the focus from the Scriptures as a static repository of eternal life to Christ as the living embodiment of God’s word and the source of eternal life.
Jewish authorities of Jesus’ time approached the Scriptures with the belief that adherence to the law and the teachings contained within them would secure eternal life. However, by quoting John 5:39, Behr highlights Jesus’ critique of this approach, pointing out that the Scriptures themselves testify to Christ, and therefore, they must be read and understood through the lens of His life, passion, and resurrection. The meaning and purpose of the Scriptures are fully realized only in Christ, who is the incarnate Word of God.
Behr challenges a purely text-based or legalistic approach to the Scriptures, encouraging a Christ-centered reading. By doing so, he aligns with the early Christian tradition, particularly the teachings of the Church Fathers, who emphasized that the Scriptures are fully understood in the light of Christ. This approach calls believers to encounter Christ personally through the Scriptures, seeing them not as a final destination but as a witness to the living Word, in whom the fullness of God’s revelation and the promise of eternal life are found. Thus, Behr assigns the locus of meaning not to the text of the Scriptures alone, but to Christ Himself, around whom all of Scripture revolves and finds its ultimate fulfillment.
John Behr broadly references the perspectives of Saint Irenaeus concerning the “canon of truth” (or “rule of faith”) and how this canon is derived from both Scripture and apostolic witness. Irenaeus, a key early Church Father, argued that the truth of Christian doctrine is preserved in the Church through apostolic teachings and the correct interpretation of the Scriptures, guided by the pedagogy handed down from the apostles.
Canon of Truth
Behr discusses how Irenaeus viewed the “canon of truth” as a standard or guideline that ensures the correct interpretation of the Scriptures. According to Irenaeus, this canon is rooted in the apostolic tradition, which is the teachings passed down from the apostles themselves. In Against Heresies (Adversus Haereses), particularly in Book I, Chapter 10, Irenaeus states that the Church’s teachings are derived from the apostles and their disciples, and it is through this apostolic tradition that the true understanding of the Scriptures is preserved.
Irenaeus emphasizes the unity and consistency of this tradition across the scripturally faithful Church, ensuring that the Scriptures are not misinterpreted or distorted by heretical teachings. This tradition, according to Irenaeus, provides the framework within which the Scriptures are to be read and understood. Behr highlights that, though crucial for Irenaeus, the Scriptures themselves are not always fully self-explanatory; they require the interpretative lens provided by apostolic tradition, which maintains the “canon of truth.”
Saint Irenaeus
Irenaeus references specific Scriptures to support his view of the canon of truth. For instance, Irenaeus points to passages like 2 Thessalonians 2:15, where Paul exhorts the believers to “stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by our spoken word or by our letter.” This verse is critical in illustrating the importance of both the written and oral traditions as complementary sources of Christian truth. Additionally, 1 Timothy 6:20 is cited, where Paul urges Timothy to “guard the deposit entrusted to you,” reflecting the early Christian emphasis on preserving the purity of the apostolic teaching.
Irenaeus also refers to John 14:26, where Jesus promises that the Holy Spirit will “teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you.” This promise is seen as a guarantee that the apostolic teaching would be faithfully transmitted through the biblically faithful Church, guided by the Holy Spirit.
Behr draws upon Irenaeus’s work in Against Heresies to show how Irenaeus argued against the Gnostics, who claimed a secret knowledge outside of the apostolic tradition. Irenaeus asserts that the true understanding of the Scriptures is public, accessible through the Church, and in continuity with the teachings of the apostles. In Against Heresies (Book III, Chapter 4), Irenaeus writes, “The tradition of the apostles, made clear in the entire world, can be clearly seen in every Church by those who wish to behold the truth.” This statement spotlights Irenaeus’s conviction that the apostolic tradition, as witnessed in the Church, is the historical context for interpreting the Scriptures according to the intent of Old and New Testament authors.
Behr further reasons that the true meaning of the Scriptures cannot be detached from the living tradition of the Church. For Irenaeus, the “canon of truth” is not a written document but a living tradition that guides the interpretation of Scripture, ensuring that it remains faithful to the teachings of Christ and the apostles. This connection between Scripture and tradition, as articulated by Irenaeus and explored by Behr, is central to understanding how early Christians approached the preservation and transmission of early Christian doctrine.
For This We Were Created
“Since he who saves already existed, it was necessary that he who would be saved should come into existence, that the One who saves should not exist in vain.” – St Irenaeus of Lyons Against the Heresies 3.22.3.
In the chapter titled “For This We Were Created” from The Mystery of Christ: Life in Death, John Behr looks into the relationship between Creation and Salvation, emphasizing how these processes culminate in the presence of Christ, who is eternally imminent to all who turn to Him. Behr presents a vision where Creation is not merely an event of the past but an ongoing reality intricately tied to the mystery of Christ. The process of Creation, as Behr outlines, is teleological—it is directed toward an ultimate purpose, which is the revelation of Christ and the salvation of humanity. This purpose is not fully realized until Christ, who is the image of the invisible God, enters into creation, thereby making God fully present to humanity.
Behr explains that, according to early Christian thought, especially as articulated by Church Fathers like Irenaeus, Creation was always intended to be fulfilled in Christ. The world was created with Christ in mind, and humanity was made in the image of Christ, the pre-existent Word of God. This idea places Christ at the center of the entire created order, not as an afterthought or a response to the fall, but as the very reason for Creation itself. Christ, as the Logos, is both the beginning and the end—the Alpha and Omega—of all that exists. Creation, therefore, is inherently oriented toward the incarnation of Christ, which brings to fruition the purpose for which everything was made.
In Behr’s view, the process of salvation is intimately connected to this understanding of Creation. Salvation is not merely a rescue operation responding to sin but fulfilling what Creation was always meant to be. Through the incarnation, Christ enters into the world He created, not only to redeem it but to bring it to its intended glory. This act of God becoming man is the pivotal moment in the divine plan, where the Creator fully enters into the creation to bring it to its completion. In this sense, salvation is the final step in the creative process, where humanity is restored and elevated to its intended state through union with Christ.
Behr emphasizes the timeless imminence of Christ in this process. Christ is not bound by time but is present throughout all ages, making His incarnation and salvific work effective for all people, past, present, and future. The presence of Christ is not limited to His historical life on earth but extends through all of time. This timeless presence is made possible through the Church and the sacraments, particularly the Eucharist, where believers encounter the risen Christ. In turning to Christ, believers are not merely looking back to a past event but are engaging with the living and eternal Christ, who is always present and accessible.
The concept of timeless imminence also means that the salvation offered by Christ is always available, regardless of the era or circumstances in which a person lives. Behr illustrates that Christ’s work transcends time, making the fruits of His incarnation and resurrection eternally present. This presence is not merely spiritual or symbolic but is a real and ongoing reality in the life of the Church. Through the Holy Spirit, Christ is continually active in the world, drawing all people to Himself, and offering the fullness of life that was intended from the beginning of Creation.
In conclusion, Behr’s synthesis of Creation and Salvation in “For This We Were Created” highlights the profound mystery of Christ’s presence and purpose. Creation is seen as an ongoing act that finds its completion in the incarnation of Christ, who is the focal point of all existence. Salvation, then, is the fulfillment of this creative act, made possible through the timeless and imminent presence of Christ. For those who turn to Him, Christ is not a distant figure of the past, but the living and ever-present source of life and redemption, continually drawing all creation to its intended union with God.
The Virgin Mother
John Behr addresses the patristic concept of the Church as the Virgin Mother while also reconciling it with the Apostle Paul’s depiction of the Church as the covenant bride of Christ. This is a nuanced theological resolution that draws from both scriptural and patristic sources, highlighting the multifaceted nature of the Church’s identity.
The Church as the Virgin Mother
Behr draws upon the early Christian tradition, particularly the writings of the Church Fathers, to present the Church as the Virgin Mother. This image is rooted in the idea that just as Mary, the Theotokos, gave birth to Christ in the flesh, the Church gives birth to Christians through baptism and the sacraments. The Church, in this sense, is a mother who nurtures and forms believers into the likeness of Christ. This maternal role is characterized by purity and virginity, symbolizing the Church’s undivided devotion to God and its role in spiritually nourishing its members.
This understanding is supported by scriptural imagery that portrays the Church in a maternal role. For example, in Galatians 4:26, Paul refers to “the Jerusalem above” as the mother of all believers, an image that the Church Fathers interpreted as referring to the Church. The Church, like Mary, is seen as both virgin and mother, maintaining spiritual purity while also being fruitful in bringing forth new life in Christ.
The Church as the Covenant Bride of Christ
Apostle Paul, particularly in Ephesians 5:25-27, refers to the Church as the bride of Christ, drawing on the marriage metaphor to describe the intimate and covenantal relationship between Christ and the Church. In this passage, Paul likens Christ’s sacrificial love for the Church to a husband’s love for his wife, emphasizing the Church’s role as a bride who is sanctified and cleansed by Christ. This bridal imagery is significant in showing the Church’s relationship to Christ as one of union, love, and fidelity, culminating in the eschatological marriage supper of the Lamb described in Revelation 19:7-9.
Resolution of the Two Images
Behr reconciles these two images—the Church as the Virgin Mother and the Church as the Bride of Christ—by emphasizing that they are complementary rather than contradictory. The Church, in the patristic sense, is both the virgin mother and the bride, encapsulating different aspects of the Church’s relationship with Christ and its role in the world. The image of the Church as the Virgin Mother highlights its role in the ongoing process of salvation, where believers are nurtured and formed in the likeness of Christ. This maternal role does not negate the Church’s identity as the Bride of Christ but rather complements it by showing the Church’s active participation in the life-giving work of Christ.
Behr also draws on the eschatological dimension of these images. In the present age, the Church is the Virgin Mother, nurturing believers and bringing forth spiritual life. However, in the age to come, the Church will be fully united with Christ as His Bride in the heavenly marriage feast. This eschatological fulfillment does not replace the Church’s maternal role but brings it to completion. The Church, as both mother and bride, participates in the mystery of Christ, who is both the bridegroom and the one who gives life.
Scriptural and Theological Synthesis
This approach aligns with the broader theological tradition that sees these images as pointing to different aspects of the same reality. The Church, in its essence, is united to Christ in a covenantal relationship (as His bride) and participates in His life-giving work (as the virgin mother). Scripturally, this synthesis can be seen in how the New Testament presents the Church in various roles—both as the bride being prepared for Christ (Ephesians 5) and as the community that brings forth new life through the Spirit (Galatians 4).
In essence, the tension between these images is resolved by highlighting their complementary nature. The Church’s identity as the virgin mother reflects its current role in the world, bringing forth new life through the sacraments and teaching. In contrast, its identity as the bride of Christ points to the ultimate fulfillment of this relationship in the eschatological union with Christ. Through this synthesis, Behr maintains the richness of both scriptural and patristic imagery, showing how they together reveal the profound mystery of the Church’s relationship with Christ.
John Behr views Mary as a profound symbol of the Church, embodying the Church’s role in the mystery of salvation. He draws heavily on the patristic tradition, particularly the teachings of early Church Fathers like Irenaeus and Athanasius, who saw Mary as both the Mother of God (Theotokos) and a figure representing the Church itself. Just as Mary, in her purity and obedience, gave birth to Christ in the flesh, the Church, in its purity and faithfulness, gives birth to Christ in the lives of believers through the sacraments and the proclamation of the Gospel. Behr emphasizes that Mary’s “yes” to God, her fiat, is mirrored in the Church’s continual “yes” to God’s will, as it nurtures and brings forth spiritual life within its members.
Moreover, Behr views Mary as symbolizing the Church’s eschatological destiny. Mary, assumed into heaven, represents the ultimate fulfillment of what the Church is called to be—a pure, holy, and spotless bride of Christ. This eschatological dimension highlights the Church’s journey towards union with Christ in the fullness of time. Mary’s role as the mother who bore Christ is seen as a model for the Church, which is called to bear Christ to the world, embodying His presence and continuing His salvific work. Through Mary, Behr illustrates how the Church is both the virgin mother, nurturing spiritual life in the present, and the bride of Christ, destined for eternal union with Him in the age to come.
Womb to Tomb
The “womb to tomb” principle, when applied to the Theotokos (Mary, the Mother of God) and Mary Magdalene, highlights the continuity of feminine presence in the essential moments of Christ’s life, from the Incarnation to the Resurrection. In the Incarnation, the Theotokos lives a central part as the one who bears God in her womb, bringing the divine Word into the world in human form. Her acceptance of this role is more than a sheer act of obedience; it represents the beginning of the fulfillment of God’s plan for salvation. The womb of Mary is where the divine and human natures of Christ are united, making her vessel of the mystery of the Incarnation. This moment is foundational, as it signifies the start of Christ’s earthly mission, ultimately leading to the cross and the tomb.
Following the Resurrection, the principle continues through the figure of Mary Magdalene, who is the first to encounter the risen Christ. Just as the Theotokos delivered and witnessed the incarnate Christ in the flesh, Mary Magdalene became the first witness to the Resurrection. Her presence at the empty tomb and her recognition of the risen Christ marks the completion of the “womb to tomb” journey that began with Mary, the Mother of Christ, the Mother of God. Mary Magdalene’s encounter with the risen Christ is a moment of profound revelation, where the reality of the Resurrection is first made known to humanity. This encounter signifies the birth of a new creation, where death is overthrown, and life is restored, echoing the miraculous birth in Mary’s womb.
The connection between these two Marys through the “womb to tomb” principle underscores the essential role of women in the narrative of salvation. The Theotokos, by bearing Christ, brings forth the life that would conquer death, while Mary Magdalene, by witnessing the Resurrection, heralds the victory of that life over the grave. Together, they bookend the story of Christ’s mission, from the Incarnation to the Resurrection, highlighting the feminine presence that is pure, nurturing, and revelatory. This principle shows that from the very beginning to the very end of Christ’s earthly journey, women were integral to unfolding God’s salvific plan, embodying both the physical and spiritual dimensions of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection.
Glorify God in Your Body
John Behr offers the concepts of the “Ambivalence of the Body” and the “Ambivalence of the Passions” through the lenses of Scriptural and Patristic sources. He reaches into the complexities of human existence, particularly how the body and passions, while being essential aspects of human nature, possess a dual potential: they can either lead one toward God or away from Him. This ambivalence reflects the tension inherent in the human condition, where the material and spiritual, the divine and the earthly, intersect.
Ambivalence of the Body
Behr discusses the “Ambivalence of the Body” by drawing on the teachings of the Church Fathers, particularly those who emphasized the body’s role in both the fall and redemption. The body, according to Behr, is not inherently evil, as some dualistic philosophies might suggest. Instead, it is God’s creation, designed with the potential for both good and evil, depending on how it is oriented. The body’s ambivalence lies in its capacity to be used for either divine purposes or sinful desires. This view is rooted in Scriptural narratives, such as in Genesis, where the human body was created good but became susceptible to corruption and sin after the fall.
In the patristic tradition, especially in the writings of Irenaeus and Athanasius, the body’s role in salvation is emphasized through the incarnation of Christ. By taking on human flesh, Christ redeems the body, showing that it can be a vessel for divine grace. Behr points out that this redemptive potential is a central theme in Christian theology, where the body is seen as the temple of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 6:19). The body’s ambivalence is thus transformed through Christ, who sanctifies it and makes it a means of communion with God. Yet, the body remains a site of struggle, where the forces of sin and grace are in constant tension.
Ambivalence of the Passions
Similarly, Behr addresses the “Ambivalence of the Passions,” which, like the body, are not inherently evil but can lead to either virtue or vice. The passions, in Patristic thought, are understood as the natural desires and emotions that animate human life. These include anger, desire, fear, and joy, among others. The ambivalence of the passions is evident in how they can be directed towards good or evil ends. When properly ordered, the passions can lead to virtues such as love, courage, and temperance. However, when disordered, they can give rise to vices like lust, wrath, and gluttony.
Behr highlights that the Church Fathers, especially figures like Evagrius Ponticus and Gregory of Nyssa, taught that the passions must be disciplined and purified to align with the will of God. This process is often described in ascetic literature as a struggle or warfare against the disordered passions, a theme that is also present in the New Testament. For instance, Paul speaks of crucifying the flesh with its passions and desires (Galatians 5:24), indicating that the Christian life involves an ongoing effort to transform and sanctify the passions. The ambivalence of the passions reflects the broader human condition, where the same energies that can lead one to God can also lead one astray.
Integration of Body and Passions in Christ
Behr synthesizes these ideas by showing how the body and passions are integrated and redeemed in Christ. In the incarnation, Christ takes on human nature, including the body and passions, and through His life, death, and resurrection, He transforms them. Christ’s sinless life demonstrates how the body and passions can be fully aligned with the will of God, serving as instruments of salvation rather than sin. This transformation is not just a historical event but an ongoing reality for Christians, who are called to participate in Christ’s life through the sacraments and the life of the Church.
The ambivalence of the body and passions, therefore, is not something to be rejected or feared but to be embraced and transformed in Christ. Behr emphasizes that the Christian life is a process of sanctification, where the body and passions are gradually brought into harmony with God’s will. This process involves both ascetic discipline and sacramental participation, as Christians seek to embody the life of Christ in their own lives. The ambivalence of the body and passions is thus resolved in Christ, who shows the way to true humanity.
Scriptural and Patristic Foundations
Behr’s views are deeply rooted in both Scriptural and Patristic sources. He draws on key scriptural passages, such as Paul’s discussions of the body as the temple of the Holy Spirit and the need to crucify the flesh with its passions and desires. These themes are echoed in the writings of the Church Fathers, who emphasized the need for asceticism and the transformation of the body and passions. Behr’s synthesis shows how these sources converge to present a holistic view of the human person, where the body and passions, despite their ambivalence, are integral to the process of salvation.
In conclusion, Behr’s exploration of the “Ambivalence of the Body” and the “Ambivalence of the Passions” provides a nuanced understanding of the human condition. The body and passions, while possessing the potential for sin, are also capable of being sanctified and transformed in Christ. This ambivalence is central to the Christian life, where the struggle to align the body and passions with God’s will is both a challenge and a path to holiness. Behr’s views, grounded in Scripture and the teachings of the Church Fathers, offer a profound vision of how the ambivalence of human nature is resolved in the mystery of Christ.
It was entirely revealing to me that the criteria of Christ’s deity and biblical Christology are articulated in the Nicene Creed of 325 A.D. Here we have an extra-biblical document that supports the doctrine of Christ’s deity before sola scriptura as framed by Martin Luther (1483-1546). Even while the creed was updated and made more explicit in defense of the Arian controversy, it was highly influenced by “Rule of Faith” teaching and experiences within the early Church. It was the foundation of all seven ecumenical councils while canonical formations ran concurrently.
Among other attempts to determine what’s authoritative, Athanasius comes along decades later (after Nicea) and works within the church body to form the canon of Scripture. Where an assembled 66-books set a standard for faith and practice. Over 1,000 years later, the Reformation arrives at the five Solas to assert the biblical grounding for Christological belief to become more distant from apostolic oral tradition, historical practice, creedal statements,1 and early Christian Hymns.2 Supposed errors in belief from first and second-century “Rule of Faith” approaches to the development of doctrine became an impetus toward the later hardening of Christology and the deity of Jesus.
Nicene Creed (325 A.D.) This council occurred before the formation of the canon of Scripture as the final recognized closed canon at the Third Synod of Carthage as shepherded by Athanasius. It was then and from there twenty-seven books of the New Testament were formed, recognized, and accepted. From the Synod of Carthage, the canon of Athanasius was locked in place AFTER THE NICENE CREED was formed. Prior to that, the OT was already settled as the 22 books within the closed canon to eventually constitute a single OT and NT codex.
HANDS: Five Criteria of Deity1 Honors: Jesus shares the honors due to God. Attributes: Jesus shares the attributes of God. Names: Jesus shares the names of God. Deeds: Jesus shares in the deeds that God does. Seat: Jesus shares the seat of God’s throne.
Nicene Creed Excerpt (to retroactively validate the deity of Christ according to Bowman):
We believe … in one Lord Jesus Christ [honors], the only Son of God, eternally [attributes] begotten of the Father; God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God [names]; begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father [attributes].
Through him all things were made [deeds].
For us and for our salvation [deeds] he came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy Spirit he became incarnate from the virgin Mary, and was made man.
For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate; he suffered death and was buried.
On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures; he ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father [seat]. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead [deeds], and his kingdom will have no end [seat].
I have much more work ahead to understand what occurred from the patristics to include Clement, Athanasius, the Didache, those who attended Nicea, Constantinople, and various others. I have the 22-volume Ante and Post-Nicene library of writings.
Proclamations, and doctrines of the reformation are foundational, but I think I’m going to check myself. —You know, trust but verify.— If I find out from the patristics that doctrinal truths are not as though they’re asserted, due to modernist or post-modern perspectives (to include the Reformers), I’m going to have questions and objections.
_______________________________ 1 Robert M. Bowman Jr. and J. Ed Komoszewski, Putting Jesus in His Place: The Case for the Deity of Christ (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 2007), 276. 2 Daniel Liderbach, Christ in the Early Christian Hymns (New York; Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1998), 37.
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