Theosis And The Unconscious

Building A Bridge Between The Patristics and Psychology

“Anyone who has ever given himself over with a pure heart to contemplation of his inner self knows how impossible it is to detect the spiritual processes of the heart, because in its profundity the heart touches upon that state of being where there are no processes.”

St Sophrony of Essex

In recent years, the conversation between theology and psychology has grown increasingly robust, offering renewed insights into enduring questions about the human condition. One of the most compelling areas of intersection lies in the exploration of the unconscious—a concept rooted in modern psychology, yet one that echoes with exceptional significance in the history of Christian thought. While figures like Freud and Jung brought the unconscious into the realm of modern discourse, the Church Fathers were already grappling with the deep, often hidden dimensions of the human soul, offering wisdom that aligns with what we now describe as the spiritual depths of the unconscious.

I often find myself grappling with how to bridge the dialogue between patristic theology and depth psychology, particularly by exploring how early Christian thought can shed light on the concept of the unconscious. While many voices are more seasoned in navigating these perspectives, I nonetheless feel compelled to contribute to this vital conversation.

The patristic understanding of the Imago Dei serves as a vital intersection of theological and psychological thought, particularly in the context of the unconscious. This image, according to the Greek Fathers, is not merely a static reflection of divine likeness but a dynamic reality that encompasses Christology, Trinitarian theology, anthropology, and psychology. Pierre Thomas Camelot observes,

"This theme of the image is, in the theology of the Fathers, above all the Greek Fathers, truly central: there one sees at the same time the meeting of Christology and Trinitarian theology, of anthropology and psychology, of the theology of creation and that of grace, of the problem of nature and the supernatural, the mystery of divinization, the theology of the spiritual life, the laws of its development and of its progress"^[i].

This holistic vision of the Imago Dei invites us to consider how the unconscious—both before and after the Fall—relates to the deeper, often hidden, aspects of this divine image within us. The unconscious, in this light, is not just a repository of repressed thoughts or desires, but a vital part of the soul’s journey towards what the patristics referred to as divinization, or theosis.

Michael J. Gorman discusses theosis in relation to a number of dynamics beginning with the concept of being "in Christ," emphasizing that it refers to more than just a physical or static location. Instead, being "in Christ" describes a dynamic, personal relationship and a transformative experience that occurs within the realm of the crucified and resurrected Messiah. This relationship is both intimate and corporate, involving a community of believers who are collectively influenced and reshaped by Christ. Gorman highlights that this concept implies solidarity and transformation, leading to a "new creation" as mentioned in 2 Corinthians 5:17. He also notes that Paul uses the metaphor of being clothed with Christ (as seen in Romans 13:14 and Galatians 3:27) to express this transformative union. In Christ, believers take on the righteousness of God, participating in and becoming part of that divine attribute.^[ii]

He continues by addressing that 2 Corinthians 5:21 is fundamentally about transformation, emphasizing that believers are becoming something they were not before. The verb ginomai ("become") is key, indicating that this transformation is both the intended purpose and result of Christ being made sin by God. This idea aligns with the patristic notion of theosis, where transformation in Christ is essential. Gorman argues that this transformation is possible only after a person is transferred into Christ, meaning that Christ's death was intended to bring about an existential change, not just a change in status. This is supported by the surrounding context, where Paul speaks of "new creation," language that conveys transformation rather than merely a change in status. Gorman also draws a parallel between 2 Corinthians 5:21 and 5:15, noting that both verses express the purpose of Christ's death in terms of transformation, reinforcing the idea that to "become the righteousness of God" is synonymous with living for Christ rather than for oneself.^[iii]

Thirdly, in considering 2 Corinthians 5:21, Gorman asserts that theosis, traditionally focused on the incarnation, also includes Christ’s death, as it emphasizes that humans can share in God’s attributes because God shared in humanity’s situation. Gorman uses Maximus the Confessor’s analogy of a sword in a fire to illustrate how humans, while remaining human, can take on divine properties by participating in Christ.

Consider these words from Maximus:

The quality of sharpness assumes the quality of heat, and the quality of heat that of sharpness (for just as the fire is united to the iron, so too is the heat of the fire diffused throughout the cutting edge of the sword, and the iron becomes burning hot through its union with the fire, and the fire acquires a cutting edge through its union with the iron. Yet neither of the elements undergoes any change in the exchange that results from their union, but each remains secure in its own natural properties, even though it has acquired the property of the other to which it has been joined.^[iv]

Maximus begins by describing how the quality of sharpness in iron assumes the quality of heat when the iron is heated by fire, and conversely, how the heat of the fire takes on the sharpness of the iron. In this union, the iron becomes capable of burning through its union with the fire, and the fire takes on a cutting edge through its union with the iron. This mutual exchange of properties is key to understanding the transformation involved in theosis.

The significance of this metaphor lies in the way it captures the paradoxical nature of theosis. On the one hand, the iron (symbolizing the human soul) remains fundamentally iron—it retains its nature and does not cease to be what it originally was. On the other hand, by being united with the fire (representing the divine nature), the iron acquires new qualities—specifically, the ability to burn—that it could not possess on its own. Similarly, the fire, while remaining fire, acquires the ability to cut, which it would not naturally have without the iron. This interaction illustrates how, in theosis, the human soul, while retaining its humanity, takes on divine qualities through union with God.

Maximus is careful to emphasize that neither the iron nor the fire undergoes a change in its essential nature as a result of this union. The iron does not cease to be iron, and the fire does not cease to be fire. This is crucial in maintaining the orthodox Christian understanding of the relationship between humanity and divinity. In theosis, the human person is divinized, meaning that they share in the life and energies of God, but they do not become divine in essence. This distinction preserves the integrity of both natures in the union.

This teaching of Maximus can be seen as a reflection of the broader Christological debates of his time, particularly the affirmation of the hypostatic union in Christ, where the divine and human natures are united in one person without confusion or change. Just as Christ’s human and divine natures are united without either being diminished or altered, so too is the human soul in theosis united with God without losing its own nature or essence.

Maximus’s analogy also invites us to consider the practical implications of theosis in the spiritual life. As believers grow closer to God, they begin to reflect divine attributes—such as love, holiness, and wisdom—without losing their humanity. Instead, their humanity is perfected and fulfilled in this union, just as the iron is perfected in its function by being heated by the fire. This process is not merely symbolic; it is a real and transformative union that affects the whole person, body, soul, and spirit.

Moreover, Maximus’s metaphor reinforces the idea that theosis is not about the annihilation or absorption of the human person into the divine but about a profound union where both the divine and the human maintain their distinctiveness. This is a dynamic relationship where the human person, through grace, participates in the divine life, experiencing a deep transformation that enriches rather than diminishes their humanity.

Maximus’s insights into theosis provide a theological foundation for understanding the transformative union between humanity and God, where human nature is perfected without losing its distinctiveness. This patristic vision serves as a bridge to Paul’s theology of participation in Christ, where similar themes of transformation, divine union, and restoration of the Imago Dei are central. As we move from the patristic tradition to Pauline theology, the concepts of doxa (glory) and dikaiosynē translated as righteousness/justice, become focal points for understanding how believers are conformed to Christ and participate in His life.

Gorman argues that the doctrine of theosis encompasses far more than what is traditionally understood as moral transformation or "sanctification" in Western theology. While sanctification is indeed a part of theosis, Gorman emphasizes that theosis also includes eschatological transformation—specifically, the resurrection and glorification of the body. This process is viewed as a single, continuous salvific reality, where present moral transformation (holiness, righteousness, justice) is intrinsically linked to the future resurrection and immortality.

Gorman highlights the paradox of theosis: as humans share in divine attributes such as holiness and immortality, they do not lose their humanity but instead become fully human, realizing the potential God originally intended for them. This idea aligns with Paul's theology, particularly in 2 Corinthians 3:18 and 5:21, where Paul discusses being transformed into the image of Christ, becoming both the doxa (glory) and dikaiosynē (righteousness/justice) of God. This transformation is not just about moral improvement but involves a comprehensive renewal that integrates and perfects the whole person in the image of Christ.

In essence, theosis is about becoming like Christ (deification) while simultaneously realizing our full humanity (humanization). This dual aspect “reflects the rich complexity of the Christian journey” of the Christian journey, where participation in Christ’s life leads to embodying the divine image more fully, both in the present and in the eschatological future.

In essence, Gorman reaffirms that theosis is not just about moral improvement but is a comprehensive transformation that ultimately leads to the full realization of our humanity in the image of God. This dual aspect of theosis—deification and humanization—captures the depth of the Christian journey, where becoming more like Christ leads us to embody the divine image more fully, both now and in the eschatological future.

Fourthly Gorman’s reflection on the connection between 2 Corinthians 3:18, 5:21, and Romans 8:30 brings out a profound truth in Paul’s theology that speaks to the very essence of Christian transformation. Gorman argues that these texts need to be read in tandem because they present an integrated picture of how believers are being restored to the divine attributes of doxa (glory) and dikaiosynē (righteousness/justice). For Paul, this restoration is not just a matter of individual salvation but a communal embodiment of Christ’s transformative work.^[v]

Finally, in 2 Corinthians 3:18, Paul talks about believers being transformed into the image of Christ as they behold His unveiled glory. This isn’t merely a moral improvement; it’s a theotic participation in the very glory of God. We’re not just being made better; we’re being made into what Christ is—the doxa of God. And this ties directly into 5:21, where Paul speaks of Christ being made sin so that we might become the dikaiosynē of God. The theological connection is rich: just as we’re becoming the doxa of God, we’re also being conformed to His dikaiosynē. It’s two sides of the same coin, and it’s not just future hope—it’s a reality that is happening now in the life of the believer.^[vi]

Gorman highlights that this transformation is both “already” and “not yet.” In Romans, Paul makes it clear that believers are justified and glorified in Christ. This isn’t an abstract or distant reality but one that is being worked out here and now in the Church. The restoration of doxa and dikaiosynē—which were diminished through sin—is being reclaimed in the life of the community as it embodies Christ’s cruciform glory and justice. The house churches in Rome were called to live out this reality, to make visible the glory and justice they’ve received in Christ through their communal life and witness.^[vii]

This is where the ethical implications come in. Glorification, in Paul’s view, isn’t just about being transformed into something glorious; it’s also about embodying God’s justice in concrete ways. Gorman suggests that glorification and “justification” are inseparable. To be glorified is to become more just—more aligned with the righteousness of God—and that righteousness must manifest in acts of justice and love within the community.

What Gorman is doing is drawing our attention to the unity of these texts and showing that the transformation Paul speaks of is both comprehensive and communal. The veil has been lifted, and as we behold Christ, we are being made into what He is—doxa and dikaiosynē—not in some abstract sense, but in a way that calls us to live out that transformation in tangible, just, and Christlike ways. In Paul’s vision, to be justified is to be glorified, and that glorification demands nothing less than the embodiment of divine justice in our lives and communities.

Gorman’s insights on Paul’s theology touch on themes that resonate deeply with the integration of the conscious and unconscious aspects of the self, particularly in how transformation in Christ addresses the whole person—both what is visible and what lies hidden beneath the surface.

In Paul’s vision, the restoration of humanity’s doxa (glory) and dikaiosynē (righteousness/justice) involves more than just outward conformity; it’s a profound inner transformation. This aligns with the psychological process of integrating the unconscious—those parts of the self that are often hidden, repressed, or ignored—into conscious awareness. Theologically, this process can be understood as the unveiling of the deeper parts of the self so that they can be healed, aligned with Christ, and brought into the fullness of divine life.

In 2 Corinthians 3:18, as we behold Christ’s glory with unveiled faces, we are being transformed into His image. This transformation is not just superficial but penetrates the depths of our being. The “unveiling” of the face can symbolize the uncovering of those unconscious layers of the self, allowing the light of Christ to penetrate and illuminate them. As the unconscious is integrated and brought into the light of Christ, we experience a holistic transformation—one that includes reconciling those aspects of ourselves that might be at odds with each other or in conflict.

Paul’s language of becoming the dikaiosynē of God (2 Corinthians 5:21) speaks to this integrative process. Righteousness, in this sense, isn’t merely a legal standing; it’s a state of being that encompasses the whole self. The unconscious, with all its hidden motives, fears, and desires, is brought into alignment with the conscious will, leading to a more unified and authentic self that can fully reflect the image of God.

Gorman’s interpretation of 2 Corinthians 5:21 focuses on how Paul’s understanding of justification goes beyond a mere legal or forensic declaration; it is inherently participatory and transformative. While many traditional readings emphasize the legal aspect of justification, Gorman argues that for Paul, justification is much more than that—it is being incorporated into the life of Christ. This participation in Christ involves a death and resurrection, a reconciliation that transforms the believer into the righteousness of God.^[viii]

Gorman draws connections between 2 Corinthians 5:21 and other key Pauline texts, like Galatians 2:15-21 and Romans 5, to show that justification is about more than simply being declared righteous; it’s about becoming the righteousness of God. This transformation is deeply participatory—we are justified in Christ and through our union with Him. Gorman’s insistence that justification is participatory leads him to describe it in terms of theosis, the process of becoming like God. This challenges narrower interpretations that restrict justification to a legal exchange and instead presents it as a holistic transformation into the image of Christ.^[ix]

Gorman’s point is clear: justification, according to Paul, is inseparable from participation in Christ’s life. It’s a transformative journey that involves being conformed to the very righteousness and justice of God, a process that is best understood as theosis—becoming what God is, by grace, through our union with Christ. This participatory view of justification not only deepens our understanding of Paul’s theology but also invites us to see salvation as an ongoing transformative experience of becoming more fully united to God.

It is essential to reiterate, from my perspective, that this transformative journey is not limited to the realm of conscious thought and behavior; it encompasses the entirety of the human person, including the unconscious dimensions of the soul. The process of theosis, as Gorman describes it, involves the integration of all aspects of our being—our conscious choices, hidden desires, and even the deep-seated patterns and wounds within us that often operate outside our awareness.

In Pauline terms, this is where the cruciform nature of justification meets the holistic renewal of the Imago Dei. As we participate in Christ’s death and resurrection, the transformative power of grace works to reconcile not just our outward actions but also the interior complexities that shape our identity. This integration is what allows us to become, in a real and profound sense, the righteousness of God, reflecting the fullness of divine glory in every aspect of our being.

The process of sanctification mirrors this journey of integration, where the believer is not only justified but also progressively transformed—glorified—in a way that encompasses both conscious and unconscious dimensions. Psychologically, this transformation involves reconciling the conscious ego with unconscious material, leading to deeper self-awareness and spiritual maturity. Theologically, this is the re-seating of the nous in the heart, aligning the whole self toward God.

Bringing the conscious and unconscious into harmony is essential for realizing the full doxa and dikaiosynē that Paul envisions. Just as Paul urges believers to embody God’s glory and justice, this embodiment requires that no aspect of the self remains hidden or fragmented. The unconscious must be illuminated and transformed so that the believer’s life fully reflects the unity and wholeness found in Christ.

The struggles and wisdom that emanate from the unconscious can be seen as the movements of the soul as it seeks to align itself with the divine image, integrating the hidden parts of the self with the conscious mind in a process that reflects the laws of spiritual development described by the Fathers. In this way, the Imago Dei serves as a central theme that unifies various aspects of theology and psychology, offering a framework for understanding the unconscious not merely as a psychological phenomenon, but as a key element in the spiritual life and the process of becoming fully human in the image of Christ.

David Benner offers further insight from a psychological perspective:

Since Freud, it has been common for pop psychology to present the conscious and unconscious dimensions of mind in terms of an iceberg. The 10 percent or so of the iceberg that is above the surface of the water is supposedly consciousness, and the remaining 90 percent that is below the surface is supposedly unconsciousness. But if we ignore the percentages and the implications of one level being more important than the other, what is depicted in this image is quite true to the basic message of depth psychology. The important point of the iceberg image is that both consciousness and unconsciousness form parts of the human mind, which is an integral whole. We do not have two quite different minds but one larger, whole mind that includes the rich contributions of both parts. Both consciousness and the unconscious play a crucial role in human creativity, love, problem solving, play, and much more. Decision making is greatly improved when we know how to include the data from both consciousness and the unconscious. And life can be lived more fully and deeply when it draws from both spheres of the whole mind.^[x]

David Benner’s insights into the integration of consciousness and unconsciousness bring a valuable perspective to the discussion of theosis and participation in Christ. Benner emphasizes that the mind is not divided into separate realms, but rather functions as an integrated whole. In his metaphor of the iceberg, both the conscious and unconscious dimensions are vital contributors to the fullness of human experience. This aligns with the process of theosis, where spiritual transformation requires that every dimension of the self be brought into the light of Christ’s presence, healed, and integrated.

For Benner, the key to living a whole and flourishing life is recognizing that the unconscious, rather than being a shadowy realm to be avoided, holds rich resources for creativity, love, and wisdom. Similarly, the process of becoming the righteousness of God in Christ involves a deep integration of these often-hidden parts of ourselves. Just as Benner argues that effective decision-making and a full life require tapping into both consciousness and the unconscious, the journey of theosis calls for an engagement with the entire self—including those areas that have been repressed, ignored, or left unexamined. It is in this integrative process that the believer experiences true spiritual renewal and growth.

Benner’s insights reinforce the idea that justification and sanctification are not merely about correcting behavior or thinking but about a deep, holistic transformation. The unconscious must be brought into harmony with the conscious mind, much as the hidden, fragmented parts of the soul are gradually healed and aligned with the image of Christ. The depth psychology approach underscores that spiritual maturity and growth involve more than just intellectual assent or outward actions; they require a profound integration of all dimensions of our being. This mirrors Paul’s vision of believers being transformed into the image of Christ, where nothing remains outside the scope of divine grace and healing.

In this light, the integration of the conscious and unconscious aspects of the self can be seen as a critical aspect of the participatory and transformative justification that Gorman describes. The journey of becoming the righteousness of God is not merely about aligning our conscious choices with God’s will, but also about integrating the unconscious movements of the soul. As we allow both realms of the mind to be drawn into communion with God, we move closer to the full realization of the Imago Dei—the image of Christ—within us, living out the glory and justice of God in every facet of our lives.

Although some in the West view theosis as overly mystical or as compromising the Creator-creature distinction, there is increasing recognition of its biblical and theological significance. Interestingly, despite the reservations of some post-Reformers, John Calvin’s theology aligns closely with the Patristic tradition in his understanding of the union between God and humanity. While Calvin does not use the term ‘theosis,’ he frequently speaks of the profound union believers have with God through Christ—a union that reaches the deepest dimensions of the soul, including the unconscious.”

Calvin emphasizes that through the covenant, God not only walks among His people but also dwells within them, bringing spiritual life and salvation. He writes:

For if his face, the moment it hath shone upon us, is a perfect pledge of salvation, how can he manifest himself to any one as his God, without opening to him the treasures of salvation? The terms on which God makes himself ours is to dwell in the midst of us, as he declared by Moses (Lev. 26:11). But such presence cannot be enjoyed without life being, at the same time, possessed along with it. And though nothing more had been expressed, they had a sufficiently clear promise of spiritual life in these words, “I am your God,” (Exod. 6:7). For he declared that he would be a God not to their bodies only, but specially to their souls. Souls, however, if not united to God by righteousness, remain estranged from him in death. On the other hand, that union, wherever it exists, will bring perpetual salvation with it."^[xi]

This passage reflects a robust Scriptural understanding of God’s transformative presence in the life of believers—a transformation that involves not just the external aspects of life but the very soul, the inner being where unconscious thoughts and desires reside. Calvin’s theology resonates with the Ancient Orthodox concept of theosis, where the ultimate goal is to become more like Christ through a transformative relationship with God, facilitated by His indwelling presence. This union is both the source of spiritual life and the means by which believers are progressively conformed to the image of God, participating in His divine life (2 Peter 1:4).

"For by these He has granted to us His precious and magnificent promises, so that by them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world by lust.” Legacy Standard Bible

The connection between theosis and the unconscious becomes clearer when we consider the transformative nature of this divine union. Calvin’s emphasis on the presence of God dwelling within believers suggests that the process of sanctification—traditionally understood in Reformed theology—also involves a deep psychological transformation. This transformation reaches into the unconscious, where hidden fears, desires, and patterns are brought into the light of God’s grace and are healed.

In this sense, theosis is not merely about moral improvement or ethical behavior but about a holistic renewal that engages the whole person, conscious and unconscious alike. As Calvin suggests, the union with God is "not to their bodies only, but specially to their souls." This union involves the deep, often hidden aspects of the soul, which are gradually conformed to the image of Christ through the indwelling Spirit. Such a transformation aligns with the biblical narrative, where being "in Christ" involves a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17) and a penetrating and infusive internal renewal (Romans 12:2).

It is important to clarify that theosis, as presented here, does not suggest that humans become divine by nature. Instead, it emphasizes participation in the divine life by grace, a participation made possible through the Incarnate Son. This understanding is firmly rooted in Scripture (2 Peter 1:4) and in the historic Christian belief that union with Christ is transformative, touching every aspect of the believer’s life, including the unconscious.

Understanding theosis in this light has practical implications for us, both personally and communally in our shared life in Christ. It invites us to engage deeply with our inner lives, recognizing that the unconscious is not a realm to be feared or ignored but a vital part of the soul’s transformation. Through practices such as prayer, contemplation, and participation in the sacraments, believers can open themselves to the transformative work of the Holy Spirit, allowing the unconscious to be healed and integrated into a life of holiness and wholeness.

However, this process is not merely about engaging in outward practices; it involves an inward journey that touches the deepest parts of our being, including those aspects of the psyche that are often hidden or repressed. The unconscious mind carries with it a vast array of experiences, emotions, and memories that may not be immediately accessible to our conscious awareness. These can include unresolved traumas, unacknowledged fears, or deep-seated desires that continue to influence our thoughts and behaviors in ways we do not fully understand.

Often, these hidden aspects of ourselves emerge in dreams, where the unconscious communicates through symbols and narratives that may require time and discernment to fully comprehend. Working with our dreams in a prayerful and contemplative manner can thus become a vital practice in the Christian life, allowing the Spirit of God to bring to light what lies hidden in darkness and to heal what is broken within us.

Moreover, we all carry interior burdens—wounds, sorrows, and longings—that linger within us, often defying immediate articulation. These burdens may stem from experiences so deep and complex that they cannot be brought to speech right away. They reside in a place within us that is much deeper than surface emotions or thoughts—a place where the human psyche intersects with the soul’s spiritual journey. The all-searching indwelling Spirit of God, as described in Psalm 139:23-24 ("Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my anxieties; and see if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting"), is constantly at work in these depths, gently bringing these hidden things into the light of His presence.

In this context, prayer becomes much more than the liturgical practices we embrace together in our communal gatherings. While corporate worship and sacraments are essential to the Christian life, there is also a vital need for personal prayer that involves abiding in God's presence and petitioning Him to search us and know us in our depths. This type of prayer is a praxis of vulnerability, where we open our innermost selves to God, allowing Him to probe the areas of our psyche that we may not even fully understand ourselves.

Such prayer requires patience and attentiveness, as the things we carry within us often need time to be discerned and processed. We may not immediately understand the significance of a dream or the source of a deep-seated anxiety, but in the context of prayer, these things can be gently revealed and worked through. The Holy Spirit, who "intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words" (Romans 8:26), assists us in this process, bringing to the surface the things that need healing and guiding us in the path of transformation.

This deeper engagement with our interior life, including our unconscious, is essential to the process of theosis—being gradually conformed to the image of Christ. It is through this inner work that the soul is purified and made whole, as the unconscious is integrated into the conscious life of faith. Thus, the Christian journey involves not only outward acts of devotion but also a continual inward turning toward God, allowing Him to transform us at the deepest levels of our being.

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^[i] Th. Camelot OP, ‘La théologie de l’image de Dieu’, Revue des Sciences philosophiques et théologiques XL (1956), 443–71; here 443–4. Andrew Louth, Introducing Eastern Orthodox Theology (London: SPCK, 2013). 82.

^[ii] Michael J. Gorman, Participating in Christ: Explorations in Paul’s Theology and Spirituality (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic: A Division of Baker Publishing Group, 2019), 222–223

^[iii] Michael J. Gorman, Participating in Christ: Explorations in Paul’s Theology and Spirituality (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic: A Division of Baker Publishing Group, 2019), 223–224.

^[iv] St Maximus the Confessor, On the Cosmic Mystery of Jesus Christ: Selected Writings from St Maximus the Confessor, ed. John Behr, trans. Paul M. Blowers and Robert Louis Wilken, vol. 25, Popular Patristics Series (Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2003), 45–46.

^[v] Michael J. Gorman, Participating in Christ: Explorations in Paul’s Theology and Spirituality (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic: A Division of Baker Publishing Group, 2019), 226.

^[vi] ibid.

^[vii] ibid.

^[viii] Michael J. Gorman, Participating in Christ: Explorations in Paul’s Theology and Spirituality (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic: A Division of Baker Publishing Group, 2019), 226-227

^[ix] ibid.

^[x] David G. PhD Benner, Human Being and Becoming: Living the Adventure of Life and Love (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2016), p. 58.

^[xi] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion , II, x, 8. (Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 1997).