Category: Teachings

  • Healing as Sacrament: The Body and Spirit

    Healing as Sacrament: The Body and Spirit

    Joseph Martinka — Spiritual Hub

    Healing as Sacrament: The Body and Spirit

    “The mercy of God is not exhausted in forgiving sins, but extends to the healing of the whole man.”
    — St. Isaac the Syrian, Ascetical Homilies I

    I. Introduction — Healing as the Restoration of Communion

    In the Eastern Christian tradition, the mystery of healing is never separated from the mystery of salvation. Humanity’s sickness, both physical and spiritual, is understood as a rupture of communion — a distortion of the image of God within the human person and the creation entrusted to our care. Therefore, every act of healing is simultaneously an act of reconciliation and divinization. To be healed is to be re-united with God, to be made whole once more through participation in divine life.

    This vision stands at the heart of the Eastern Church’s sacramental worldview, where grace is not a distant abstraction but a tangible reality that penetrates body and soul. Healing is not simply a mercy extended to human weakness; it is a manifestation of Theosis, the gradual transformation of the human person into the likeness of God. The early Fathers repeatedly insist that salvation is not escape from the body, but the sanctification and transfiguration of the body through the Incarnation and the Holy Spirit.

    II. The Incarnational View of the Human Person

    The mystery of the Word made flesh lies at the foundation of Eastern Christian anthropology. When the eternal Logos assumed human nature, He did not redeem only the spiritual or rational aspect of humanity but embraced the totality of our being. As St. Gregory Nazianzen declared: “That which He has not assumed He has not healed; but that which is united to His Godhead is also saved.”¹

    In this single line, the Church’s entire theology of healing is contained. The Incarnation reveals that the body itself is a locus of divine grace, capable of bearing within it the energies of God. Thus, for the Eastern Fathers, bodily suffering is not a mere obstacle to salvation, nor a punishment, but a mystery through which divine compassion is revealed.

    St. Basil the Great, in his Longer Rules, teaches that the care of the sick is a sacred duty precisely because the body is “a companion and servant of the soul.”² For Basil, to neglect the physical welfare of others is to deny the integrity of the human person. The hospitals founded under his direction in Caesarea — known collectively as the Basileias — were not merely philanthropic institutions but embodiments of the Church’s sacramental care for the whole person. Healing was understood as liturgy extended beyond the sanctuary.

    III. Healing and Theosis — The Goal of Human Life

    The aim of human existence, according to the Eastern Fathers, is Theosis, or participation in the divine nature.³ Healing, in this light, is not an isolated miracle but part of the ongoing process by which humanity is restored to its original glory. St. Athanasius, in On the Incarnation, wrote: “The Word of God became man so that we might become God.”⁴ The sickness of sin is healed only when humanity is re-united with the divine life that is its true health.

    St. Maximus the Confessor deepened this vision by describing salvation as the “recapitulation of all things in Christ.”⁵ The human being, composed of body and soul, becomes a microcosm of creation, called to reconcile the material and the spiritual. Healing, therefore, is cosmic as well as personal; it is the transfiguration of all creation in Christ. The divine energies flow through the sacraments, through prayer, through ascetic struggle, renewing the entire cosmos.

    St. Gregory Palamas, the great 14th-century Hesychast theologian, taught that divine grace is communicated through the uncreated energies of God, which sanctify not only the soul but also the body: “The body shares in the sanctification of the soul, being united with it and filled with divine grace.”⁶ Theosis is not purely interior; it is embodied, luminous, radiant through matter.

    IV. Healing in the Early Church

    From the earliest centuries, the Church’s ministry included the healing of the sick as a sign of Christ’s resurrection power. The Acts of the Apostles records that “many signs and wonders were done among the people by the hands of the apostles” (Acts 5:12). The laying on of hands, the anointing with oil, and the prayer of faith became normative expressions of the Church’s pastoral care.

    The Apostolic Tradition, attributed to St. Hippolytus (early 3rd century), includes explicit instructions for the blessing of oil for healing: “Let the bishop give thanks over the oil and say: ‘O God, who sanctifies this oil, grant health to those who use it, that it may give strength to all who are anointed with it.’”⁷ Here we see the early Church understanding healing as a sacramental act — not magical, but participatory, invoking divine energy through visible matter.

    St. John Chrysostom, writing in the 4th century, connects bodily healing to forgiveness and communion: “The same power that forgives sins also heals the body. For the sickness of the body is often a result of the sickness of the soul.”⁸ For Chrysostom, sin and sickness share a common root — the fragmentation of the divine image — and thus both require the same remedy: repentance, grace, and the life of the Church.

    V. The Sacrament of Holy Unction

    The anointing of the sick, or Holy Unction, is the most explicit expression of healing as sacrament in the Eastern Church. Its biblical foundation lies in the Epistle of James: “Is any among you sick? Let him call for the presbyters of the Church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord; and the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he has committed sins, he shall be forgiven” (James 5:14–15).

    In the Byzantine rite, the service of Holy Unction is a solemn and communal act, not reserved only for the dying but offered for all who seek healing of body and soul. The oil, blessed by seven priests, becomes a tangible sign of the Holy Spirit’s presence. The prayers interweave petitions for forgiveness, restoration, and illumination. One of the prayers reads:

    “O Lord, who by Thy mercies and compassions heal the sufferings of our souls and bodies, sanctify this oil, that it may be for Thy servants who are anointed with it unto healing and the banishing of every passion, every defilement of flesh and spirit, and every evil.”⁹

    This prayer reflects the Eastern conviction that bodily illness is often interwoven with the spiritual passions (pathē), which must also be healed. The sacrament therefore addresses both levels of human brokenness — the visible and the invisible.

    St. Nicholas Cabasilas, in his 14th-century treatise On the Life in Christ, describes Unction as the sacrament that “restores the sick, purifies the soul, and reconciles man to God.”¹⁰ Cabasilas emphasizes that the anointing does not replace medicine or natural means of cure; rather, it sanctifies them by uniting them to the divine economy of grace. The physician and the priest both participate in God’s healing work.

    VI. Healing in the Divine Liturgy

    Every liturgical act in the Eastern Church is implicitly an act of healing. The Eucharist itself is proclaimed to be “for the healing of soul and body.” In the Liturgy of St. Basil the Great, the celebrant prays after Communion: “Keep us holy in Thy fear, that we may partake of Thy holy Mysteries unto the healing of soul and body.”¹¹

    The Fathers saw the Eucharist as medicine — not in a metaphorical sense, but as the very antidote to death. St. Ignatius of Antioch called it “the medicine of immortality, the antidote that we should not die but live forever in Jesus Christ.”¹² Participation in the Body and Blood of Christ heals the entire human person by restoring communion with divine life.

    This understanding shaped the Church’s pastoral practice: confession and repentance are necessary precisely because they clear the soul to receive healing grace. St. John Climacus, in The Ladder of Divine Ascent, writes: “Repentance is the daughter of hope and the renunciation of despair. It is reconciliation with the Lord by the practice of good deeds and the cleansing of conscience.”¹³ In the same spirit, the Eucharist is not isolated from healing; it is the culmination of it.

    VII. The Desert Tradition: Healing of the Passions

    The monastic tradition of the desert took the theme of healing to its interior depths. For the Desert Fathers and Mothers, the human heart is a battlefield where sickness manifests as the disordered passions — anger, lust, pride, fear, acedia. Healing, therefore, is the purification of the heart and the restoration of the nous, the spiritual intellect.

    Evagrius Ponticus, one of the earliest systematizers of Christian ascetic psychology, described the spiritual life in medical terms: “Just as physicians diagnose diseases of the body, so the monk must discern the passions of the soul.”¹⁴ His writings influenced generations of monks who saw asceticism not as self-punishment but as therapy.

    St. Isaac the Syrian continued this line, teaching that “the humble man approaches sickness with knowledge, knowing that it serves the healing of his soul.”¹⁵ Isaac insists that suffering, when united with prayer and repentance, becomes the very means by which God purifies and enlightens the soul. The true healing, he writes, is “to be set free from the sickness of self-love and to learn compassion for all.”¹⁶

    Similarly, St. John of the Cross (though Western, resonating with this tradition) would later echo that the dark night is a purgative healing of desire — a theme first expressed in the Eastern deserts. The purpose of healing is union, not comfort.

    VIII. Healing and the Resurrection

    For the Fathers, all healing finds its meaning in the Resurrection of Christ. Death itself, the ultimate sickness, has been destroyed. St. John Damascene, in his Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, declares: “The resurrection is the renewal of human nature and the restoration of our soul and body to immortality.”¹⁷ To heal the body is to anticipate the resurrection; to heal the soul is to awaken it to its future glory.

    The Eastern liturgies constantly intertwine healing and resurrectional imagery. The Paschal hymns proclaim, “Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death,” and this victory is not merely eschatological but sacramental — enacted in every anointing, every Eucharist, every act of mercy.

    St. Symeon the New Theologian, writing in the 11th century, describes the experience of divine light as the healing fire of the Holy Spirit: “When the light of the Spirit shines in the soul, it heals the passions, illumines the mind, and sanctifies the body.”¹⁸ Here, healing and illumination are one. Theosis, healing, and resurrection converge in the vision of uncreated light.

    IX. Healing as Compassion — The Divine Physician

    Throughout the Eastern tradition, Christ is venerated as the “Physician of souls and bodies.” The prayers of the Divine Liturgy and the Hours abound with this title. The Kontakion of the Anointing service addresses Him: “You, O Christ, who alone are quick to help, who alone are without sin, Physician of souls and bodies, visit and heal Thy servants.”¹⁹

    This image of the compassionate healer is not sentiment but theology. God’s very nature is mercy, and His mercy is active — it restores, re-creates, transfigures. St. Isaac the Syrian famously wrote: “As a handful of sand thrown into the great sea, so are the sins of all flesh in comparison with the mind of God.”²⁰ To know God is to experience the infinite ocean of His compassion, which heals not by decree but by love.

    Even ascetic struggle, so central to Eastern spirituality, is framed as therapy, not punishment. St. John Chrysostom tells his hearers: “Do not say, I am punished by sickness. Say rather, I am cured by it.”²¹ Such words epitomize the Eastern refusal to separate suffering from sanctification. The sickness that leads one to humility and prayer becomes an instrument of healing in itself.

    X. Conclusion — Healing as the Manifestation of Divine Life

    To speak of healing in Eastern Christianity is to speak of communion. The body and soul are healed not in isolation but in the life of the Church, through the sacraments, through prayer, through the descent of divine energies that permeate all things. Healing is the visible face of Theosis, the restoration of the human person as icon of God.

    The Eastern Fathers remind us that healing is not opposed to suffering but fulfilled in it, just as resurrection is not apart from the Cross but revealed through it. The oil of Unction, the bread and wine of the Eucharist, the tears of repentance — all are channels of the same divine compassion.

    Thus, in the Eastern Church, healing is truly sacrament: a visible participation in the invisible mercy of God, a foretaste of resurrection, and the radiant restoration of body and spirit in the light of divine love.

    Bibliography

    1. Gregory Nazianzen. Epistle 101: To Cledonius. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, Vol. 7. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1983.
    2. Basil the Great. Longer Rules. In The Ascetic Works of Saint Basil, translated by W.K.L. Clarke. London: SPCK, 1925.
    3. 2 Peter 1:4; see also Kallistos Ware, The Orthodox Way. Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1979.
    4. Athanasius of Alexandria. On the Incarnation. Translated by A. Robertson. Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1982.
    5. Maximus the Confessor. Ambigua. In Patrologia Graeca 91.
    6. Gregory Palamas. Triads I.3. In The Philokalia, Vol. 4. London: Faber and Faber, 1995.
    7. Hippolytus of Rome. Apostolic Tradition 5. In The Apostolic Tradition: A Commentary by Bradshaw et al.Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2002.
    8. John Chrysostom. Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew, 33. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, Vol. 10. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1989.
    9. Euchologion Mega: Service of Holy Unction. Greek Orthodox Church, Athens Edition.
    10. Nicholas Cabasilas. The Life in Christ. Translated by Carleton T. Brown. Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1974.
    11. Basil the Great. Anaphora of the Divine Liturgy of St. Basil the Great.
    12. Ignatius of Antioch. Letter to the Ephesians 20:2. In Early Christian Writings, translated by Maxwell Staniforth. London: Penguin, 1987.
    13. John Climacus. The Ladder of Divine Ascent. Translated by Colm Luibheid and Norman Russell. Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1982.
    14. Evagrius Ponticus. Praktikos. In The Philokalia, Vol. 1. London: Faber and Faber, 1979.
    15. Isaac the Syrian. Ascetical Homilies I. Translated by Dana Miller. Boston: Holy Transfiguration Monastery, 1984.
    16. Ibid., Homily 34.
    17. John Damascene. Exposition of the Orthodox Faith IV.27. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, Vol. 9. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1983.
    18. Symeon the New Theologian. Hymns of Divine Love. Translated by George A. Maloney. Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1980.
    19. Euchologion Mega: Service of Holy Unction.
    20. Isaac the Syrian. Ascetical Homilies I.
    21. John Chrysostom. Homilies on the Statues 3.6. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, Vol. 9. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1989.
    © Joseph Martinka
    Built with care • Peace to your home

  • The Seven Sacraments Through the Mystical Lens of the ISM





    Joseph Martinka — Spiritual Hub




    The Seven Sacraments Through the Mystical Lens of the ISM

    A contemplative, mystagogical exploration of the sacraments as doorways into Divine Mystery—united with Catholic–Orthodox lineage and the inclusive, evolving sacramental vision of the ISM.

    Introduction: The Sacramental Cosmos

    In the mystical consciousness of the Independent Sacramental Movement, the seven sacraments are not merely ecclesiastical rituals—they are doorways into the Divine Mystery. They express, in visible form, the invisible grace that permeates all creation. Every sacrament is at once revelation and remembrance: revelation of God’s eternal presence, remembrance of our primordial union in Divine Life.

    The ISM stands within Catholic and Orthodox lineage, yet reads the sacraments mystagogically—as initiations into the continuous flow of the Holy Spirit. Each sacrament awakens a distinct frequency of divine consciousness, drawing us into theosis, the life of God. These are not only rites we perform; they are energies we embody.

    1. Baptism: The Descent into Light

    Baptism is initiation, and mystically, awakening. It symbolizes the descent of Spirit into matter—a microcosmic echo of the Incarnation. Immersed in water, we are bathed in living currents of divine life that wash away the forgetfulness of separation.

    The waters signify both the womb of the cosmos and the River of Sophia flowing through creation. In the ISM, Baptism is not only forgiveness but remembrance—the call to awaken to our Christ-nature. “Unless one is born of water and Spirit…” (John 3) speaks not of a far-off realm, but a present dimension of consciousness.

    “Let there be light.” (Genesis 1:3)

    Application: cultivate a baptismal mindfulness—return to breath, remember your origin in God, and live from luminous identity.

    2. Confirmation (Chrismation): The Seal of Fire

    If Baptism is water, Confirmation is fire. It is the Pentecostal sacrament—the personal epiclesis: Spirit resting upon the soul. Through chrism and laying on of hands, the person is “sealed,” not as possession but as illumination. The inner flame is kindled to discern truth through love and to co-create in God’s renewing work.

    This is gnosis through fire: the gifts of the Spirit awaken for the transformation of the world. The seal is a doorway, not a finish line.

    “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you.” (Acts 1:8)

    Practice: daily anoint the heart in prayer; consent to the Spirit’s courage, wisdom, and compassion.

    3. Eucharist: The Sacrament of Union

    The Eucharist is center and heartbeat—the Sacrament of Love where visible and invisible converge. In the ISM’s mystical view it is not mere memorial nor only transubstantiation but transfiguration: the unveiling of divine presence inherent in bread and wine, body and world. We enter the eternal moment of divine self-offering.

    The Eucharist collapses time and space, drawing us into the Mystical Body of Christ who fills all things. We do not simply consume; we are consumed into wholeness. God becomes food so humanity may become God-like—theosis enacted.

    “I am the living bread that came down from heaven.” (John 6)

    Application: live Eucharistically—practice gratitude, self-gift, and solidarity with the poor; let your life become bread for others.

    4. Reconciliation: The Sacrament of Return

    Sin, mystically, is forgetfulness of divine identity. Reconciliation is the turn back to remembrance—the re-harmonizing of the soul with its source. Absolution is not a court verdict but the audible echo of mercy restoring inner communion.

    In ISM practice, confession is contemplative: not fixation on guilt but integration. Grace is not imposed; it is unveiled. We emerge not merely forgiven but re-membered—rejoined to the Body of Light.

    “Create in me a clean heart, O God.” (Psalm 51)

    Practice: examen, compassionate truth-telling, reparative action, and receiving mercy as medicine.

    5. Anointing of the Sick: The Sacrament of Wholeness

    Anointing is not only for dying but an invitation to wholeness. Healing is not identical with cure; it is alignment with God amid suffering. The Church touches Christ’s flesh in every suffering body, awakening the peace of the Spirit even when the body fails.

    Pain can become sacramental when united to love—a threshold to transfiguration where compassion and surrender coalesce.

    “Is anyone among you sick? Let them call for the elders… anointing with oil.” (James 5)

    Application: hold vigil, anoint gently, accompany without fixing; reveal Love’s presence in the valley.

    6. Holy Orders: The Sacrament of Service & Transmission

    Holy Orders in the ISM is recognition of vocation rather than superiority. Ordination is transmission—spiritual fire passing from heart to heart for the service of God’s people. The ordained participate in the Eternal Priesthood of Christ, who is both Offerer and Offering.

    Inclusive and invitational, the ISM affirms that all genders and orientations may bear this fire. Spirit knows no domination—only diverse vocations harmonized in one flame.

    “Fan into flame the gift of God through the laying on of my hands.” (2 Timothy 1:6)

    Practice: lead as icon of self-emptying love; center the margins; steward the mysteries for the life of the world.

    7. Matrimony: The Sacrament of Union-in-Diversity

    Matrimony becomes the sacrament of sacred polarity—the dance of divine feminine and masculine, within and without. It images Trinitarian love: distinct persons entering communion that glorifies difference rather than erasing it.

    The two become one not by losing themselves, but by finding their shared identity in Love. It is a continual Eucharist between souls—an altar of mutual self-gift.

    “The two shall become one flesh.” (Ephesians 5)

    Application: practice vows daily—presence, fidelity, forgiveness, delight; let the home become a small monastery of love.

    Conclusion: The Eighth Sacrament — The World Itself

    The seven sacraments are luminous centers within a greater web. All creation is sacramental reality—the Eighth Sacrament—Christ revealed in the cosmos. The bread of the altar and the bread of the poor are not separate; the oil of chrism and the oil of compassion flow from one spring.

    To live sacramentally is to live awake—seeing God in all things and all things in God. Each gesture of blessing, each act of beauty, each word of truth participates in the Great Liturgy of Being.

    Suggested Sources for Further Study:
    Genesis 1;
    John 1 & 6;
    Luke 24;
    Acts 2;
    Romans 12;
    1 Corinthians 10–12;
    Ephesians 5;
    James 5;
    Saint Basil t, On the Holy Spirit;
    Saint Gregory Palamas, Homilies;
    Odo Casel, The Mystery of Christian Worship.
    © Joseph Martinka
    Built with care • Peace to your home



  • Would Christ Have Come Even Without the Fall?

    Would Christ Have Come Even Without the Fall?

    Joseph Martinka — Spiritual Hub

    Would Christ Have Come Even Without the Fall?

    Reading the Gospel Through the Aramaic Lens and the Witness of the Fathers

    Introduction: Why This Question Matters to Me

    In my ongoing studies of theology and sacred language, I’ve been delving deeply into the Aramaic understanding of Jesus—the living context of his words, prayers, and teachings. This exploration has begun to reshape how I perceive the entire Christic message. Reading Scripture through Aramaic eyes reveals meanings that the Greek, Latin, and English translations can sometimes veil: faith as embodied trust, forgiveness as release, sin as disharmony, and the Kingdom as the active presence of God within and among us.

    From within this renewed lens, one profound question has stayed with me:

    If Adam and Eve had not sinned in the Garden, would Christ still have become incarnate?

    This inquiry is not merely speculative; it touches the very heart of divine intention, creation’s purpose, and the nature of Love itself. The reflections below seek to explore this question honestly, drawing upon the Aramaic Gospels, the early Church Fathers, and the broader mystical Christian tradition—to uncover what the Incarnation truly means, beyond the boundaries of sin and redemption.

    Summary (for skimmers)

    Many Latin-Western theologians (following Augustine and Aquinas) taught that Christ’s Incarnation was necessary because of human sin. Yet the Eastern tradition, several major Fathers, and the Franciscan (Scotist) school present a deeper vision: the Incarnation as God’s original intention—the cosmic “Yes” of Divine Love, not merely a rescue plan.

    The Aramaic worldview amplifies this mystical truth: faith as trust/alignment, “forgiveness” as release, the “Kingdom” as God’s present reign, and Christ as the unique manifestation (Iḥidaya) of Divine Oneness. In this light, even if Adam and Eve had not sinned, the Word’s embodiment would still stand as the natural fulfillment of creation.

    Why Aramaic Matters: Returning to Jesus’ Everyday Tongue

    Jesus spoke Aramaic, the living Semitic language of first-century Palestine. The earliest full Aramaic New Testament, the Syriac Peshitta, preserves a worldview closer to that of Jesus and his first followers.

    When read through this lens, the Gospel becomes less juridical and more relational, less abstract and more experiential:

    • John 1:1 (Peshitta): “In the beginning was the Miltha.”
      The Aramaic Miltha means manifestation, essence, creative word, not simply a spoken term. It implies the Divine Presence actively expressing itself through all creation.
    • John 3:16 (Peshitta): God gives His Iḥidaya—the Unique One—that humanity may find eternal life. The term conveys uniqueness and oneness more than biological begetting.
    • Luke 6:36: The Aramaic for “merciful” (rḥm) comes from the root meaning “womb.” God’s mercy, then, is womb-like love—nurturing, compassionate, creative.

    In short, the Aramaic idiom consistently reveals a theology of union, presence, and compassion—a vision deeply consonant with the mystical Fathers.

    Key Aramaic Nuances That Shift the Emphasis

    EnglishAramaic MeaningTheological Implication
    BelieveHayman — to trust, align, rely uponFaith as lived relationship, not mental assent
    Only-begotten SonIḥidaya — the Unique/Only OneChrist as the singular embodiment of divine unity
    Kingdom of GodMalkutha d’Alaha — active reign/presenceThe Kingdom as present reality, not distant realm
    SinKhata — to miss the markDisharmony to be realigned, not guilt to be punished
    ForgiveShbaq — to release, let goLiberation and restoration of wholeness

    These nuances transform Christianity from a courtroom to a communion—a participatory relationship where divine love restores harmony within creation.

    Two Great Streams on Why the Incarnation

    The Western “Felix Culpa” View (Augustine → Aquinas)

    In the Latin West, sin was central to the logic of the Incarnation. Humanity’s fall created a debt only divine love could repay.
    Aquinas writes:

    “If man had not sinned, the Son of Man would not have come.” (Summa Theologiae III, q.1, a.3)

    This tradition views Christ as Redeemer first, and the Incarnation as contingent upon the Fall.

    The Eastern and Mystical Vision (Irenaeus → Maximus → Scotus)

    In the East, the Incarnation is seen not as a repair, but as the fulfillment of divine intention.

    • St. Irenaeus (2nd c.) taught that Christ came to recapitulate all things (Eph 1:10), summing up creation and leading it to completion.
    • St. Athanasius (4th c.) declared, “God became man that man might become God [by grace].”
    • St. Maximus the Confessor (7th c.) proclaimed the Incarnation as “the pre-conceived goal of creation.”
    • Bl. John Duns Scotus (13th c.) later affirmed that even if no one had sinned, Christ would still have come, for the Incarnation was willed from eternity as the supreme expression of divine love.

    This vision finds resonance in the Aramaic worldview: God’s desire to be known and experienced in matter—Love becoming visible.

    Scripture at the Center: The Cosmic Christ

    John 1:1–3 — All things come to be through the Miltha; the Word is the light and life of humanity.
    Colossians 1:15–20 — Christ is the image of the invisible God; in Him all things hold together.
    Ephesians 1:9–10 — God’s purpose is “to sum up all things in Christ.”

    In this cosmic vision, the Incarnation is not an afterthought to sin but the pattern and purpose of creation itself.

    The Aramaic Emphasis in Context

    • Faith (haymanutha) is alignment with divine reality.
    • Mercy (rḥma) is womb-love—a mothering compassion at the heart of God.
    • The Son (Iḥidaya) embodies divine oneness.
    • Kingdom (Malkutha) is present divine presence.

    Thus, Christ is not reacting to sin but revealing the fullness of divine intent—creation’s destiny realized in flesh.

    Would Christ Have Come Without the Fall?

    From the Western juridical perspective: likely not.
    From the Eastern and Aramaic perspective: inevitably yes.

    “Creation itself is a movement toward Incarnation.”
    Sin makes redemption necessary,
    but Love makes embodiment inevitable.

    The Incarnation, in this sense, is the flowering of creation, not its repair. The Cross still redeems the broken, but the Incarnation reveals the purpose for which all things exist: union with Divine Love.

    Pastoral and Mystical Implications

    1. Theosis over legalism — The spiritual life is about participation in divine life, not mere pardon.
    2. Sacraments as presence and release — Each sacrament becomes an act of divine alignment and restoration.
    3. Christ at the heart of the cosmos — All creation points toward and through Him.
    4. Ecumenical unity — This vision bridges East and West, faith and mysticism, theology and embodiment.

    Sources and Citations

    • Peshitta (Syriac New Testament) — John 1:1; John 3:16; Luke 6:36 (Dukhrana & Gorgias resources)
    • Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, III, q.1, a.3
    • Irenaeus, Adversus Haereses (on recapitulation)
    • Athanasius, On the Incarnation
    • Maximus the Confessor, Ambigua
    • John Duns Scotus, Ordinatio III, d.7, q.3
    • Colossians 1:15–20; Ephesians 1:9–10; John 1:1–3 (Scriptural support)

    Closing Reflection

    If Miltha means “the Manifesting Presence,” then the Incarnation is not a divine reaction but a revelation of what has always been true: God’s love seeking full expression in matter.

    Christ’s birth, life, death, and resurrection unveil the eternal movement of Love toward union—the Divine longing to be known through creation. Even without sin, that Love would still have spoken the same Word:

    “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

    © Joseph Martinka
    Built with care • Peace to your home
  • Following the Words of Jesus — Not as a Label, But as a Life

    Following the Words of Jesus — Not as a Label, But as a Life

    Following His Words Changes Everything

    Over time, I’ve discovered that truly following the words of Jesus — His actual words in Scripture — is not only transformative, it’s the purest way to live a life of faith.

    It hasn’t made me a “liberal.” It hasn’t made me “woke.”
    It has made me something far simpler, and infinitely deeper:
    A follower of Jesus.

    When you follow what He actually said, not filtered through culture or politics or fear, but taken straight from His mouth and lived out in daily life — everything changes.

    “What Would Jesus Do?” — More Than a Bracelet

    Those of us who grew up in the 90s remember the WWJD bracelets. They asked a question that still matters deeply: What would Jesus do?

    But the truth is, we don’t have to wonder. Jesus told us exactly what He would do.

    “I give you a new commandment: that you love one another; just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
    — John 13:34–35

    “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
    — Matthew 5:43–44

    This is what Jesus would do.
    And this is what He did do — again and again.

    The Words That Change Everything

    Jesus’ words are not abstract theology — they are living truth.

    “Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.”
    — Luke 6:37

    “Let the one who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone.”
    — John 8:7

    “Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the log in your own?”
    — Matthew 7:3

    When we stop judging and start forgiving, we begin to live the Gospel — not just believe it.

    “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”
    — Luke 6:36

    Living the Sermon

    If we want to know what Jesus would do, we can read the Sermon on the Mount.

    “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.”
    — Matthew 5:7

    “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.”
    — Matthew 5:9

    “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden.”
    — Matthew 5:14

    “Whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them.”
    — Matthew 7:12

    “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth… but store up treasures in heaven.”
    — Matthew 6:19–20

    “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
    — Matthew 11:28

    These are not metaphors — they are invitations.

    When the Church Forgets the Christ

    “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.”
    — Matthew 15:8

    Jesus spoke those words to religious leaders who were convinced they were doing God’s work — yet their actions told another story.

    And today, we see similar patterns in certain conservative and institutional forms of Christianity: faith that speaks His name, but often acts in opposition to His heart.

    Excluding Those He Welcomed

    “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”
    — Mark 2:17

    Jesus welcomed tax collectors, prostitutes, lepers, and outcasts. Yet today, the Church often excludes LGBTQ+ people, silences women, and condemns rather than embraces.

    “For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in.”
    — Matthew 25:42–43

    The failure to love is the failure of faith.

    Trading the Kingdom for Political Power

    “My kingdom is not of this world.”
    — John 18:36

    Too many Christian institutions now pursue political dominance instead of spiritual service. They legislate morality but neglect mercy.

    “You cannot serve both God and money.”
    — Matthew 6:24

    The Church loses its soul when it seeks worldly influence more than divine intimacy.

    Judging Where Jesus Commanded Mercy

    “Do not judge, and you will not be judged.”
    — Luke 6:37

    “Let the one who is without sin cast the first stone.”
    — John 8:7

    If Jesus stood before many pulpits today, He might ask:
    “Why are you throwing stones I already died to remove?”

    Neglecting the Poor and Glorifying the Wealthy

    “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.”
    — Luke 6:20

    “Woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort.”
    — Luke 6:24

    Jesus centered the poor, yet much of the Church glorifies wealth. The Gospel of prosperity has replaced the Gospel of compassion.

    Failing to Be Peacemakers

    “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
    — Matthew 5:9

    “Put your sword back in its place, for all who draw the sword will die by the sword.”
    — Matthew 26:52

    When Christianity justifies violence, nationalism, or vengeance, it betrays its founder — the Prince of Peace.

    When Religion Replaces Relationship

    “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices… but you have neglected the more important matters of the law — justice, mercy and faithfulness.”
    — Matthew 23:23

    “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.”
    — Mark 2:27

    Faith without compassion is a hollow shell. The Church must never value rules more than people.

    The Invitation Back to Love

    Despite it all, the invitation of Christ remains open:

    “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
    — Matthew 11:28

    “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you. Remain in my love.”
    — John 15:9

    If we — as individuals and as a Church — return to His words, His compassion, and His example, the world would see again the beauty of the Gospel.

    “Go and learn what this means: I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”
    — Matthew 9:13

    That’s what He asked. That’s what He lived.
    And that’s what He’s still waiting for us to do.

    So What Can We Do?

    If this reflection speaks to your heart, share it. Let’s remind the world that Christianity isn’t about control, fear, or division — it’s about love lived boldly, so:

    “Go and do likewise.”
    — Luke 10:37