Rational soul against Apollinaris; life-giving flesh of the one sent

And again “he began to be grieved and distressed,” and to say, “My soul is deeply grieved unto death,” and again, “And crying out with a great voice Jesus said: Father, into your hands I entrust my spirit.” Those defeated by Apollinaris’s opinion, who choose to think his thoughts and insist that the temple united to the Word is both soulless and mindless—what then would they say, when the holy evangelists have written such things for us about Christ the Savior of us all? For the divine and highest nature of the Word would reasonably be wholly unreceptive of panic and grief and the causes of cowardice; it will refuse altogether to be in those states at any time, and will not endure our passions at all. And again a body that is soulless and mindless would not admit grief, nor would it conceive any of the gloomy things, nor foresee in advance the fear of what is expected to happen. But a rational soul, examining with the mind both what is already present and also what will follow, would suffer such things, as I suppose seems good to all. How then does Emmanuel say, “Now my soul has been troubled”? And how did he begin to be grieved and distressed?

Christ entrusts his own spirit to the Father, and he renewed this way for us. For we will not walk into Hades—how could we?—but we will rather follow him also in this, and by entrusting our own souls to the faithful Creator we are in good hopes; for Christ will raise all.

“Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so also the one who eats me will live because of me.” I would gladly ask those who split the one into two Christs: who then is the one sent from God and Father, living because of him, and for that reason life-giving? If it is the Word from him bare and by himself, how is he eaten by us so that we may live through him? For the divine is bodiless by nature. But if they say the one sent is only a human by himself, how then is he life-giving?