The Two Made One; Christ Our Peace (Ephesians 2:11–14)

Such is the greatness of the economy of salvation in general for all; but for the Ephesians—and through them for all believers from among the Gentiles—it was manifest also in this particular feature: that they, who had once been “far off,” by its power became “near” (Eph. 2:13). In order to impress this more fully upon their souls, the Apostle depicts:

A) how far they were—vv. 11–12;

B) by what means they became near—vv. 13–18; and

C) how near they became—vv. 19–22.

D) How far away were the Gentiles? vv. 11–12.

The holy Apostle had already spoken earlier of how they were dead in sins and made alive together with Christ—which constitutes the inner power of life in Christ. Now he depicts the outward order of relationships in the spiritual, gracious economy of salvation. According to the hidden plans of the divine providence for our salvation, one people was chosen, to whom the promise concerning Christ the Saviour was entrusted, and in accordance with that, their entire way of life was ordered—ecclesiastical, civil, and family—which set them apart from all other nations. The seal of their election was circumcision. Those who were circumcised were thus, so to speak, God’s own; all others were as it were strangers. These knew the One True God, stood in His favor, knew without doubt that among them Christ the Saviour would appear, and were blessed with consoling promises. The Gentiles had none of these things—they were without God, without Christ, without promises. This, says the Apostle to the Ephesians, was the bitter state you were in.

Eph. 2:11, 12. Therefore remember that you, who were once Gentiles in the flesh, called uncircumcision by what is called circumcision, made in the flesh by hands—that at that time you were without Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world.

“Therefore remember.” “The Apostle again calls to mind what is past, to show the greatness of God’s beneficence” (Theodoret). He calls it to mind because “when we pass from great poverty to an opposite state, or are deemed worthy of some greater honor, we, enjoying the glory of our new condition, generally recall our former state unwillingly” (St. Chrysostom). The holy Paul feared lest the Gentiles, by their numbers in the Church and by outward advantages, might begin to look down on the Jews, and so he commands them to remember what their former place was in God’s ordering of the salvation of all—so that, remembering it, they might not exalt themselves above the Jews nor estrange themselves from them. When addressing the Jews, where necessary, he reminds them that they did indeed have their advantages—but only for a time: now all of that no longer matters. He strove in every way to smooth over the inequalities between Jews and Gentiles, so as to fill them all with a single brotherly spirit through the union of all in Christ.

“You, who were once Gentiles…” The import of the remaining words of verse 11 is simple: you were the uncircumcised, if you set yourselves in relation to the circumcised Jews. Why was it the holy Apostle’s pleasure to use such a circumlocution? Because circumcision served as the gateway to participation in the promises of the people of God. Intending to point out what the Gentiles were deprived of by being estranged from the Jews, he points to the original principle of the division between them—circumcision and uncircumcision. But with the words “called uncircumcision by what is called circumcision,” he at the same time gives to understand that this distinction was not, and still less now is, anything essential. It is an outward sign. The Jews held aloof from the Gentiles as uncircumcised, regarding them as unclean and rejected by God; the Gentiles, for this very reason, looked unfavorably upon the Jews and, being sometimes willing to believe in the God of Israel, could in no way reconcile themselves to circumcision. The Apostle now suggests to them (having in view perhaps to humble the Jews as well): the uncircumcision so called from the circumcision so called—that distinction is not so very important if viewed externally, but what does matter is what was bound up with it: the deprivations connected with it were very keenly felt.

“You, who were once Gentiles in the flesh…” Blessed Theodoret takes “in the flesh” as belonging to “called uncircumcision” in the flesh, and places a stop after “Gentiles.” The sense is that “both circumcision belongs to the flesh, and uncircumcision likewise to the flesh.”

“Called uncircumcision.” “Circumcision and uncircumcision are a bodily characteristic (a distinguishing mark). But what is bodily is not essential; hence he said: ‘called’ (St. Damascene).”

“‘By what is called circumcision:’ “The honor was in name only, and the advantage of circumcision pertained to the flesh alone, for neither uncircumcision nor circumcision means anything (any longer)” (St. Chrysostom).”

“Made in the flesh by hands.” Circumcision was performed by another’s hands and went no further than the flesh. The heart remained uncircumcised even so. Therefore, looked at from outside, this added nothing and took nothing away in the spiritual sense. “The Apostle knew the true circumcision, by which the unclean desires entering the heart are circumcised. But if that is the true circumcision, then the true uncircumcision will be the impurity of the heart” (St. Damascene).

“That at that time you were without Christ.” “At that time”—before the coming of Christ, and more precisely, before the reception of faith in Christ. For those who do not believe in Christ suffer the same spiritual deprivations even now. These deprivations the holy Paul now enumerates, to make it more evident what blessings they have now been deemed worthy to receive. Looked at externally, it was no great thing that they did not have circumcision, were not associated with the people of God, and did not know the ordinances of their life; but terrible is what was bound up with that. “Do not think,” he says, “that there is any importance in the fact that you did not receive circumcision and are in uncircumcision; it is not that which is terrible, but this: to be without Christ, to be estranged from the commonwealth of Israel (and the former point concerns life), to be outside the covenant of promise, to have no hope, and to be godless in the world—which is precisely what the Gentiles were. That is terrible. Earlier the Apostle spoke of heavenly things (how, being dead, they were made alive together with Christ); now he speaks of earthly things, since the Jews prized these highly” (St. Chrysostom).

But were not the Jews also without Christ before? — Without Christ, but only because He had not yet come; yet He was promised to them so certainly, and they expected Him so certainly, that they already possessed Him as it were in actual fact. The whole structure of the faith under the Law was permeated with Christ. He was the body, and the Law was the shadow (Col. 2:17). The Jews therefore possessed Christ hidden within. This hiddenness was ever more and more disclosed by the prophets, so that faith in the coming Christ the Lord constituted the spirit of the piety of the Jewish people. Christ was all in all to them—from Him alone they awaited everything that was good. This advantage the Gentiles did not have. They sensed only that all was wrong with them; but how and by whom it might be set right, they did not know, though some by a certain intuition did hazard guesses on the matter. This is why Christ appeared among the Jews; from them came the first Church, and by them the Gospel was preached. Therein lies the power, the advantage, and the significance of the Jews for all humanity.

“Alienated from the commonwealth of Israel.” Commonwealth — πολιτεια — the ordinances of life, established by God Himself. Israel was given commandments showing how to please God and how to purify oneself in case of breaking them and provoking His wrath. Everything was sealed by the manifest will of God, so that those who lived thus could not but be assured that they were God’s and were under His protection and favor. The ordinances of the commonwealth of Israel were significant precisely in that they showed that Israel was the kingdom of God, in which God was king. And He tangibly reigned among them, manifested wondrous signs, and preserved this people for the great purpose of the salvation of the human race in Christ Jesus. The Gentiles were estranged — απηλλοτριωμενοι — from this commonwealth. In this expression lies the hint that originally they too were destined to belong to it. The Gentiles also belonged to the same tree of humanity—as it was organized by God after the Fall and after the Flood—they received the original promises and commandments as well, but then broke off. Like the foolish son, they fled from their Father’s house taking with them a small share of the inheritance—and God left them to walk in their self-chosen ways. They were estranged—they estranged themselves. Who is to blame? The Apostle gives them to understand: now God forgives you your self-will and brings you back to Himself.

“Strangers to the covenants of promise.” The Mother of God in her song magnifies God for that He remembered at last the “mercy which He spoke to our fathers—to Abraham and to his seed” (Lk. 1:54, 55). These mercies were the promises, confirmed by special covenants. There were covenants with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, with all the people at Sinai, and with the prophet David. All of these are covenants of promise. God required faithfulness from the people, and Himself promised them His everlasting protection, defense, and preservation. But the substance of the promises was the promise of the coming of the Messiah, or His appearance among them. For His sake were given also the promises of protection and safeguarding, and they were indeed manifested in actual fact—for otherwise the Messiah could not have appeared among them either. That this is exactly so is seen in the fact that as soon as the Lord came and the formation of the new Israel began, the ancient one was scattered: its preservation ceased as no longer needed, and it ceased to be a distinct people, but wanders through the world, bearing witness to the truth by its very opposition to it. The Gentiles had become estranged from the commonwealth, carrying with them the original Noahic promises and commandments—but from the promises they were “strangers.” In this they had no part at all, for the promises were given apart from them—though in the end they too were hinted at: that they also would come to the mountain of God and to the house of God on the top of the mountains, and would entreat that they too be taught the Law of the living God. But this report did not reach them; it was spoken for the spiritual quickening of that same Israel to which the chief promise had been granted.

“Having no hope.” Since they had no share in the promises, they naturally could not nourish the hope that the promises aroused. And it is of this that the passage speaks. The Apostle does not mean here the hope that the Israelites had by virtue of the promise of the Messiah coming in the name of the Lord, but the general hope by which a person feels himself secure by reason of his relationship to God, from whom all things come. In Greek this word stands without the article, to show that no particular hope is meant here, but hope of any kind.

Life without hope is a comfortless life. The Gentiles were in a hopeless condition. Their inner sense made this known to them through the anguish of heart that oppressed the entire pagan world. In some, this undefined anguish reached a point of definiteness. One man would set out to attain knowledge of the truth, but would struggle and struggle and then let his hands fall—for truth showed no face, and no path to it could be seen underfoot. Another would set out to reform his character, but would struggle and struggle and give up—for everything slips from the hands, and no progress is made and none is in sight. So it was with all the rest. Such men could know clearly that they were in a kind of hopeless situation; others carried it as an indefinite feeling, expressed in a universal anguish.

They did not clearly know God, did not know the laws of His providence, did not know how to please Him or to be cleansed before Him from their sins. And then there was death—a fearful event for those who vaguely supposed whether they would live after death and, if they would, what their lot would be there. Uncertainty and obscurity everywhere: the Gentiles were like a man sinking into a bog ready to swallow him.

But it is impossible to live without hope. Whoever loses all hope usually deprives himself of life. How then did the Gentiles remain alive? They fashioned hopes for themselves—though illusory and deceptive ones. Is it not precisely this that the Apostle means—that the Gentiles had no true hope, hoping to receive true and lasting good? This seems probable, for he calls them godless too, on the grounds that they did not know the true God but served gods that are not by nature gods.

“And without God in the world.” “Although the Gentiles worshiped gods, they were nevertheless godless, because the idols to which they bowed signified nothing” (St. Chrysostom). It is impossible for man to be without God. Having lost the knowledge of the true God, the Gentiles invented gods of their own and, venerating them, found a certain rest. But in actual fact they were serving a phantom, not God. They did not know the true and living God and were outside communion with Him. However many other gods one may devise—it is all empty. This merely changed the glory of the incorruptible God—not without guilt and not without accountability. “Without God”—not condemned to godlessness, but they placed themselves in such a state.

Hopelessness is closely joined by the Apostle with godlessness. In the latter is the source of the former. In an evil world, a strong hope is urgently necessary—a hope that stands firm, established on unshakeable foundations—hope in the living, loving, and mighty God. Outside communion with such a true God, where will hope find its support? Those who are estranged from the true God therefore naturally sink into hopelessness.

By adding the words “in the world,” did the Apostle perhaps intend to say: in a world that loudly proclaims the true God? “For His invisible attributes, since the creation of the world, being perceived through the things that are made, are clearly seen—His eternal power and Godhead” (Rom. 1:20). Here, then, there is a word of reproach—and it is not without relevance even in our own day, for those who live in the world, see the world, even investigate it, yet do not wish to know the true God.

B) By what means did they become near? vv. 13–18

One might have expected that the holy Paul, having depicted what spiritual deprivations the Gentiles suffered by being estranged from the Jews, would now say: but now you too have been introduced into participation in these blessings—that is, joined to the Jews and made their equals, become as Jews. But he says something different: he says that the wall dividing you from the Jews has been torn down, you have been merged with the Jews—but not in order to become Jews, but in order to be together with them remade into a new humanity, for which the Jews too were destined. The Apostle intends here to present the greatness of God’s beneficence toward the Gentiles from their relationship to the economy of salvation. He seems to say to them: God, in ordering human salvation, chose one people for Himself, whom He nourished with hopes and promises and preserved by special protection, setting them apart from all nations by institutions that encompassed their entire life; you were deprived of such a beneficence, and that deprivation was very significant. But the Jewish institutions were only temporary; their end too has come, and the Jews are now being brought into possession of the higher spiritual goods of which the former served only as a type, being now subject to the new gracious institutions. All of this is done according to the plan of the economy of our salvation, decreed from eternity. If even now God had kept you far from this economy, as He did before, the measure of your deprivations could not be described. But God disregarded your guilty estrangement from Him and, while ordering the final ways of salvation among and through the Jews, called you also to enter upon them—that you too, together with the Jews, forgetting the ancient division, might travel the same path, the new and living path, by which both are brought in one Spirit to the Father. Now you too have become near. — Near to whom and to what? — To God, to the Lord the Saviour, to the sole path to salvation in Him, to the Kingdom of Christ and to all the sweetest hopes within it—near not to that from which you were formerly far and which has already passed away, but to that which has been newly and definitively established for our salvation. Remember then that you have been so greatly benefited—you have leaped over a step, been advanced past a grade, and not only have not been left behind, but have even been given the possibility of outstripping those who were near before.

Eph. 2:13. But now in Christ Jesus you who were once far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.

“But now in Christ Jesus”—when the promised Christ has come and has accomplished our salvation, which was formerly only hoped for; when the gracious Kingdom has been established by Christ the Lord and is proclaimed to all—now, in the New Testament economy of salvation. “You who were once far off”—you who were estranged from the former, temporary, and preparatory economy through your estrangement from the Jews and thus stood at a distance—“have been brought near”: you are not estranged from the new economy, the true and final one, but have been introduced into participation in it, on equal terms with the Jews, among whom and through whom it was prepared by the former mode of the economy. How have you “been brought near”? “By the blood of Christ.” A brief but all-encompassing answer. All the subsequent passage (vv. 14–17) serves as its explanation—ampler and fuller. Its substance may be expressed thus: all the Old Testament institution was shadow; but the body belongs to Christ. When the Lord came and offered Himself as a sacrifice by His death on the cross, everything that had been only a reflection of that sacrifice ceased—lost its significance and force. All force passed now into the death on the cross. Thus the blood of Christ, shed on the cross, put an end to the Old Testament institution and itself took its place—the body in place of the shadow, the truth in place of its foreshadowings. That by which the old was abolished itself became the new institution for salvation. But the Old Testament institutions were the wall dividing Jews and Gentiles. Consequently, the blood of Christ, which put an end to the significance of the Old Testament institutions, also tore down the wall of division between Jews and Gentiles. And since it itself became the New Testament institution for salvation, it also became the center of unity for all who enter upon this newly opened path of salvation. The Jews cast off the old and put on the new through the blood of Christ, which abolished everything old; while the Gentiles, being directly anointed by the blood of Christ, put on everything new. Both find in the blood of Christ the center of their mutual unity and at the same time the means of communion in the gracious institution through which, intimately joined to Christ, they draw near to God—both equally, without the advantage of one over the other.

Eph. 2:14–16. For He Himself is our peace, who has made both one, and has broken down the middle wall of partition: the enmity, in His flesh, having abolished the Law of commandments in ordinances, that He might create in Himself one new man from the two, thus making peace, and that He might reconcile both to God in one body through the cross, having slain the enmity by it.

“For He Himself is our peace”—peace between you, the Gentiles, and you, the Jews, who now together constitute the Church. Already in the Old Testament the Saviour was called the Prince of peace (Isa. 9:6). The angels greeted His birth with peace on earth (Lk. 2:14). Certainly in both cases a comprehensive peace is meant, for there is inner peace in the conscience, peace with God, the calming of all the soul’s stirrings. In the Apostle’s present word, while one may also understand peace with God in the conscience as a condition, his direct thought is about the union of divided humanity. In its most essential, religious regard, humanity had fallen into two halves, sharply distinct, existing in irreconcilable hostility, and unable to be united in the form in which both had been shaped by the course of history, according to God’s will and permission.

These two—Christ the Lord “has made one”—one society, bound by a firm bond, a living bond, heartfelt and soul-deep, in which all members are mutually sympathetic and compassionate. How did He accomplish this? By abolishing what served as the cause of division, and by filling both with new, common principles and powers of life according to God, which fused their souls into one.

“Having broken down the middle wall of partition.” The fence of the people of God was the Law, by which they served and pleased God, and by which they were justified before Him in their sins and drew near to Him. But this same Law served as a wall, fencing off the people of God from all other peoples, so that neither side could mingle with the other in any way. The Lord Jesus Christ broke down this middle wall. How? By His coming in the flesh and by His death on the cross. The Law was a shadow of what was to come; the body is Christ’s. When the body appeared, the shadow ceased. All the Old Testament justifications were abolished by the sacrifice of the body of Christ. The blood of Christ replaced everything former. And having abolished the Law, the Lord tore down the partition—this cause of the disharmony between the two halves of the human race. The sense of the passage is: the middle wall of partition—the Law—this “enmity,” or cause of disharmony, the Lord broke down “in His flesh”—the same as above: by His blood.

But having abolished or torn down one thing, the Lord introduced another in its place: “having abolished the Law of commandments in ordinances”—having replaced the outward order of pleasing God with a spiritual, inward one, enacted in the mind and heart, fulfillable and to be fulfilled at all times and in all places. The “Law of commandments” declared: observe days, times and years; or: do not touch, nor taste, nor handle, and so on—it consisted of the whole body of prescriptions that regulated every entry and exit of Israel’s life, at home, in the Temple, and in society. But all of this was outward—fulfilled bodily through material elements. This “Law of commandments the Lord abolished through ordinances” — εν δογμασι. He requires not elemental worship, not outward propriety, but has established that we offer to God, as a sacrifice, the God-pleasing ordering of the inner life, composed of one’s mode of thought, feeling, and disposition. This new law of life in Christ Jesus is wholly contained in one word: only believe, and you shall be saved—with this clarification: but let your faith be aided by love, by love in which is the fulfilling of the Law. This is the δογμα — the substance of life in Christ Jesus. Faith is a thing of the mind; love likewise. No outward circumstance of any kind shakes this rational worship. And this is the worship of God in spirit and in truth.

The Gentiles too had their own outward religious order. They too had to abandon it, and they did abandon it when coming to the Lord in faith. Thus everything outward was abandoned by both Jews and Gentiles alike, and thereafter both received an identical ordering of inner life. Inwardly they were joined by unity of mind, unity of feeling, unity of character—and therein a firm peace was established among them. But in this they also received new principles of life for both of them, merged into one. Thus the new spirit of life in Christ Jesus, permeating both equally, made peace and out of both built up “one new man”—a new humanity, whose first father and head is Christ the Lord.

But this is still the lower kind of peace. There is a higher one—peace with God, which is the source of the first. The Apostle says: “and might reconcile both to God”—saying this after speaking of their mutual reconciliation with one another, not because the one is the beginning of the other, but because in depicting the peace-making work of redemption he moves from the lower to the higher. The final goal of reconciliation is peace with God, beyond which there is nowhere further to go. But in actual fact—this is the beginning of everything. Having been reconciled with God, believers find peace within themselves, and through this peace they are reconciled with one another as well. Peace with God is established by the cross, by the death of the Lord on the cross, through faith, by the power of which the believer appropriates to himself the propitiation of God accomplished for all by that death. But what does it mean: “might reconcile both in one body”? If this were speaking of the reconciliation of Jews and Gentiles with one another, then “in one body” would directly indicate the body of the Church; but since it speaks of reconciliation “to God,” these words suggest no other meaning than: to reconcile in His one body, by offering it as a propitiatory sacrifice for all on the cross. Likewise, “having slain the enmity” does not refer to the enmity spoken of above in the words “the enmity, in His flesh,” but to the enmity that sin set up between men and God. This enmity was slain by the cross; and believers, “having been enemies” (Rom. 5:10), are reconciled through it with God.

Such is the content of these verses! But since they present the most important subject of our faith, let us linger over them a little longer to hold the attention of those who love to attend to the truths of faith, and bring together here all that our holy Fathers and teachers have said on their occasion.

“For He Himself is our peace, who has made both one.” “He is our peace; He has arranged that those who believed from among the Israelites and from among you form one body” (Theodoret). “What does ‘made both one’ mean? By this the Apostle shows not that God has granted us the same nobility as the Jews, but that He has elevated both us and them into a better state. Moreover, God’s beneficence toward us is even greater: to them—the Jews—promises were given, and they were nearer to God than we were; to us no promises were given, and we stood farther from God. This is why it is said: ‘the Gentiles glorified God for His mercy’ (Rom. 15:9). The Israelites received promises but proved unworthy of them; but to us nothing was promised, we were strangers to the promises; we had nothing in common with the Jews, and yet He united us together—not, however, by attaching us to them, but by joining both us and them into one. Let us take an example: suppose one is a slave and another is an adopted son; both were to serve Him (that is, God), but one was declared disinherited, the other fled away, and then both were made heirs and legitimate children. They were deemed worthy of the same honor; the two became one—with only this difference: that one came from afar, the other from nearby, and the one who was nearer arrived at the Father’s house first” (St. Chrysostom).

“Having broken down the middle wall of partition.” “He put an end to the Law which, like a certain wall, divided you from one another; and having done this, He destroyed what kept you apart from them” (Theodoret). “The wall that stood in the middle and placed a division between the religion of the Law and paganism he called a hedge or fence (Greek: φραγμος), and not a solid and massive wall. For neither was paganism anything firm, being a human invention, nor were circumcision with new moons, distinctions of foods, sacrifices, and sabbaths a permanent and unchangeable institution—they were given with the intention that they should cease when Christ came. Although God gave all of this, He gave it for a time; but the proclamation of the faith is unchanging and without succession (Ambrosiaster). The Law was also a fence—a fence for confirmation in good; and it is called a fence because it could fence against evil. Hear what the Prophet says: ‘I fenced it with a fence’ (Isa. 5:2). And again: ‘You have broken down its wall, and all those who pass by the way pluck it’ (Ps. 79:13). And again: ‘He gave the Law as a help’ (Isa. 8:20). And in another place: ‘The Lord executes acts of mercy and judgment for all who are wronged. He made His ways known to Moses, His will to the sons of Israel’ (Ps. 102:6, 7)” (St. Chrysostom).

“The enmity, in His flesh.” “Before the Incarnation there was great enmity between the circumcision and the uncircumcision; now we have been reconciled, having become one through faith. We are characterized no longer by circumcision and uncircumcision, but have one distinguishing mark—faith” (Theophylact). St. Chrysostom and the other Eastern Fathers understand here the enmity toward God that sin raises. Blessed Photius, in Oecumenius, understands two enmities—both that which existed between the Jews and the Gentiles, and that which both groups had toward God on account of their sinfulness. “Both the one and the other,” he says, “Christ our God abolished.” But more directly one should understand here the first enmity, though one may also supply the second in this way: the division between Jews and Gentiles was destroyed by the abolition of the Law, and the Law was abolished by Christ’s reconciling us with God through His blood.

“Having abolished the Law of commandments in ordinances.” “He replaced the legal prescriptions with dogmas. Circumcision, the Sabbath, the Passover, Pentecost, and the requirement not to appear before the Lord empty-handed—He taught us to understand these more deeply than the sound of the words suggests, and, departing from the letter that kills, to follow the Spirit that gives life” (blessed Jerome). “That is, the law given to the Jews—concerning the observance of circumcision, new moons, sacrifices, and the Sabbath—He abolished, because it served only as a burden, and thereby brought peace (between Jews and Gentiles). This is why the Apostle Peter said in Acts: ‘Why do you place a yoke upon the necks of the disciples, which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear?’ (Acts 15:10) (Ambrosiaster). O what great loving-kindness! He gave us the Law so that we might keep it; then, when we had not kept it and were liable to punishment on that account, He even abolished the Law. This is like someone who entrusted his child to a tutor and then, noticing that the child did not obey the guardian, freed him from the tutor. God showed great loving-kindness in this! — What then does ‘having abolished in ordinances’ mean? The Apostle draws a great distinction between commandment (εντολη) and teaching (δογματα). By teaching he means here faith, because we are saved by faith alone… So—if you believe that Jesus Christ rose from the dead, you shall be saved. And again: ‘The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart… say not… who shall ascend into heaven… or who shall descend into the abyss…’ or who would have raised ‘Christ from the dead’ (Rom. 10:6–8). In place of works He introduced faith, so that the work of salvation should not be in vain; He Himself bore the punishment, and from us requires faith in the dogmas” (St. Chrysostom).

“That He might create in Himself one new man from the two, thus making peace.” “You see, the Gentile did not become a Jew, but both came into a new state. He did not abolish the Law in order to transform the one into the other, but to re-create both. And well does the Apostle use the word ‘create’; he did not say ‘transform,’ in order to show the peculiar power of this action—and to show that although this creation was accomplished invisibly, it is nonetheless no less than the first creation—and so that in the face of such evident proofs no one could remain an unbeliever. ‘That He might create both,’ he says, ‘in Himself’—that is, through Himself. He did not send someone else, but Himself—having first, as it were, melted down the one and the other, that is, the Greek and the Jew—created one wondrous being, namely the Christian—Himself becoming the first specimen of this kind of creation, a creation far superior to the first. ‘In Himself’ may also mean that He was the first to present to us the pattern and example of the new creation. Standing Himself in the middle, He draws the Jew with one hand and the Greek with the other, and having mixed them together and destroyed everything that estranged them from one another, refashioned them from above. He refashioned both the Jew, who was circumcised and was under a curse, and the Greek, who was outside the Law, into ‘one new man,’ superior to both—both the Jew and the Greek—making peace both in relation to God and in relation to one another. Remaining Jews as Jews and Greeks as Greeks, they never could have united with one another. Without leaving their own situation, how could either of them have come into a better state? A Jew draws near to a Greek only when he becomes a believer. This is like two people occupying two separate rooms on the ground floor, while above they have one common, beautiful, and spacious room: they cannot see one another until they go upstairs” (St. Chrysostom). By the new man He means the one who is renewed day by day and has his dwelling in the new world, when there shall be “a new heaven and a new earth” (Isa. 65:17)—who has to drink the new cup of Jesus in the Kingdom of God (Mk. 14:25) and to sing the new song (Ps. 32:3; Ps. 97:1). The beginning of renewal is laid down here; but the perfect and full renewal will follow in the age to come. As we see here in a mirror dimly, but there shall see face to face (1 Cor. 13:12), so the building up of the new man will appear full and perfect when heaven and earth are united (blessed Jerome).