Divinity school

One of the most breathtaking passages in the NT, and one which gets little air time, is 2 Peter 1:3-11, which begins

His divine power has given us everything needed for life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Thus he has given us, through these things, his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may escape from the corruption that is in the world because of lust, and may become participants in the divine nature.

Consider what the "promises" give us: participation in the "divine nature." The idea that this might be open to us seems incredible.

But what does it mean? The word "participants" is the Greek koinonoi, meaning companions, partners, sharers, so we are given the chance to be partners in God's nature. It's a tough concept to wrap one's head around for several reasons. First, there aren't many parallel concepts; one never speaks of sharing in the angelic nature, or even the canine nature, much less the divine. Second, sharing in the divine nature means that humans are somehow capable of achieving such a lofty height. Third, it also means that God is not altogether "other." Surely God is so great, dwelling in the inscrutable heights of heaven, that we cannot hope to pin down his nature, much less share in it? According to 2 Peter we can.

So what is God's nature--at least, the aspect of it we can participate in? When we think of the divine nature the "omnis" come to mind: omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent. Yet none of these is promised to us, either in this life or the next.

It turns out that this phrase and concept were well known in ancient times. The dualistic Greek world view associated permanence and immortality with the divine nature and transience and mortality with the creation. And there were various theories of how the divine nature was achieved [1]; through ritual (the mystery religions); through philosophical contemplation and detachment (Platonism); through the secret knowledge (Hermetic literature), in the afterlife, or through mystical ecstasy (Philo).

For Peter, as in Hellenistic thinking, the divine nature allowed escape from corruption (v. 4). But for Peter, it comes first through knowledge (v. 3), not through any of the above avenues. And while in the culture of the day corruption was in the very nature of the physical world, for Christians and Jews alike, the corruption was due to sin, which entered the world through Adam. To escape sin is to escape the death that reigns in this fallen world. Believers will be granted new life in the resurrection of the dead, and freedom from sin.

But there is another related element of participation in the divine nature which happens now. As it says in Jn 1:18,

No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.

Our understanding of the divine nature comes through Jesus. We believe that in living among us Jesus set aside his "omnis," but not his divine nature. This is described in Philippians 2:5-7:

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

who, though he was in the form of God,

did not regard equality with God

as something to be exploited,

but emptied himself,

taking the form of a slave,

being born in human likeness.

The central aspect of Jesus' ministry, the greatest way in which Jesus reflected the divine nature, was in his dying for us, his self-sacrificial love, a perfect reflection of his humility.

We may look forward to the next life, but not at the expense of this life. As Fred Craddock puts it,

...the conversion from this life to the next is not achieved simply by dying and therefore passing from mortality to immortality. Rather the change is moral and ethical. [2]

The divine nature is characterized by humble, Christ-like, self-giving love. Turning aside from the lusts of this corrupt world, fueled by knowledge of Christ's sacrifice, and following in Jesus' footsteps, we share in the very nature of the transcendent God.

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Why the Pelican Art? In the middle ages, it was believed that pelicans pierced their own breasts in order to feed their young. This became a symbol for Christ's life-giving sacrifice: "O loving pelican, O Jesu Lord, unclean am I but cleanse me in thy blood" (Thomas Aquinas, Adoro Te Devote). The reference can also be found in Dante's Paradiso (25:113) and Act IV, scene V of Hamlet, where Laertes says to the king, "To his good friends thus wide I'll open my arms; and like the life-rendering pelican, repast them with my blood."

The first image is from: The Cloisters Collection, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; John Stewart Kennedy Fund, 1922, reproduced in The Medieval Menagerie - Animals in the Art of the Middle Ages by Janetta Rebold Benton, Abbeville Press Publishers, New York, (1922), pg 22 [http://donna.hrynkiw.net/sca/pelican/index.html].

The second image is from The Hague, Museum Meermanno, MMW, 10 B 25, ca. 1450 [http://physiologus.proab.info/?re=524].

[1] Richard J. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, Word Biblical Commentary (1983), p. 180.

[2] First and Second Peter and Jude, Westminster Bible Companion (1995), p. 98.