January 11

ou may wonder how it can be that people are children of God. But just as what is born of a human being is human, of deer, deer, and of peacock, peacock, in the same way what is born of God is also God. What, then, becomes of the human nature, the flesh and blood, as they say, then it changes into God? In other words, does it become God and is God produced? But why do you marvel that humanity becomes God? Was not God made human and the Word made flesh? For if God, who has in himself the highest existence, becomes human, why then should not humanity, whose final resting place is in God, be changed into God? Imperfect things are drawn to perfection by something in nature that stimulates them. But they are born of God through love, not nature. And why not nature? Because the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, and he begot us when he was conceived in our hearts in a way very different from how children are generally begotten. For children are conceived to be born, while Christ dwells within us that he might beget us even before he is conceived by us. Lying hidden within us, Christ draws out of his very self seeds of fire. For he is stone and flint; and, as you know, seeds of fire are hidden in the veins of flint. Thus when Christ knocks out sparks, he kindles the soul and fans the heart into flames. How are hearts burned within us on the way, said those journeying to Emmaus.

From John E. Rotelle, O.S.A., Tradition Day by Day: Readings from Church Writers. Augustinian Press. Villanova, PA, 1994.

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