THE TRIPARTITE NATURE OF MAN. 195 



Lord's resurrection-body, He distinctly said, " A spirit hath not 

 flesh and bones, as ye see Me have " (Luke xxiv, 39). The new 

 body will be heavenly ; it will be raised in incorruption, in 

 glory, in power ; it will put on immortality : death will be 

 swallowed up in victory. " The Lord Jesus Christ, who shall 

 fashion anew the body of our humiliation, that it may be con- 

 formed to the body of His glory " (Phil, i, 21, K.V.). 



At present the redemption of our nature is very imperfect. The 

 Apostle says in Rom. viii, 23, " Ourselves also, which have the 

 firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, 

 waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body." 

 The spirit of the believer is entirely emancipated. He can say, 

 " The law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free." 

 The soul of a servant of God is partially redeemed. But the 

 body is in no sense redeemed. It is under the bondage of corrup- 

 tion. Hereafter the Lord's people will share His glory. " The 

 glory which Thou gavest" Me I have given them " (John xvii, 22). 

 They will become " partakers of the divine nature " (2 Peter i, 4). 

 In some mysterious and marvellous sense, they will be one with 

 Christ and one with God, according to our Lord's prayer, *' As 

 Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee, that they also may be 

 one in Us" (John xvii, 21). 



The nature of the spiritual body is beautifully imagined by 

 Bickersteth : — 



Our spiritual body was the same in type. 



In face and form and fashion, as on earth, 



Yet not the same — transfigured ; suited this 



For the quick motions of the new-born spirit, 



As that for all the functions of the flesh ; 



Obedient to our faintest wish, as was 



Sometime the disembodied soul ; yea more, 



So willingly responsive, that it woke 



Wish to exert, where exercise itself 



Was pleasure. Would I speak, my tongue was fain ; 



And language copious, yet precise and clear, 



Embracing all the loftiest thoughts enshrined 



In all earth's dialects, flowed from my lips 



Spontaneously, catching the finer tints 



Of mingled light and shade, like photographs 



Of Contemplation. Would I touch my harp, 



The very touch was music, and enticed 



Melodious words. The opening eye drank in 



Such scenes of beauty, and the listening ear 



Such trancing harmonies, audience and sight 



Seem'd sweet necessity. Or would I move, 



Volition, without wings, or nimble tread 



