The Salt Doll and the Pearl: Remaining in the Love of Christ

Photo by @sarahmgower

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ear sisters and brothers in Christ, Jesus says in today’s Gospel: “As the Father loves me, so I also love you. Remain in my love… I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and your joy may be complete” (Jn 15:9–11). But what does it mean to remain in the love of Christ? To fathom the depths of this mystery, I would like to offer two images.

The first is the image of the salt doll. Drawn from Hindu mysticism, it tells the story of a salt doll who journeys to the sea, longing to know what the ocean is. But as it steps into the water, it begins to dissolve. With each step, it loses more of itself—until at last, it becomes one with the ocean. In its final moment, it whispers, “Now I know what the ocean is.”

In St Paul's letter to the Colossians, he speaks of the visible image of the invisible God, "The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible..." (Col 1:15-16). The salt doll is akin to the visible image of God, in whose image and likeness all things were created. But unlike the salt doll, God did not lose God-self in the process. The visible image of God is not dissolved or exhausted, but it only draws all of creation into union with the divine; a soaking in of divine presence (Theosis or deification). Just as plants are formed by taking water and minerals from roots with the help of Osmosis, likewise our being soaks in divine presence, God's gratuity and likeness, to be united with God. "God saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was very good and He validated it completely" (Gen 1:31).

The second image is that of a pearl, formed from a grain of sand lodged within an oyster. At first, the sand causes irritation—a wound within the soft flesh. Yet instead of rejecting it, the oyster enfolds the grain with layers of nacre, transforming the source of pain into a thing of beauty and value. So it is with the mystery of sin and salvation. Adam, like the grain of sand, brought disobedience and rupture into the harmony of creation. But God did not abandon the wounded human world. Instead, through millennia of covenant and promise, He wrapped humanity in mercy—until, in the fullness of time, the pearl of salvation was formed in the womb of the Virgin Mary. Jesus Christ, the sinless One, comes from our wounded line to redeem it from within.

That pearl is Agape, which envelopes all forms of love. It is the highest form of love because it is a love that forgives. It conquers the ocean depths and everything that can separate the grain of sand from God's love. Benedict XVI writes:

We have seen that God's eros for man is also totally agape. This is not only because it is bestowed in a completely gratuitous manner, without any previous merit, but also because it is love which forgives. Hosea above all shows us that this agape dimension of God's love for man goes far beyond the aspect of gratuity. Israel has committed “adultery” and has broken the covenant; God should judge and repudiate her. It is precisely at this point that God is revealed to be God and not man: “How can I give you up, O Ephraim! How can I hand you over, O Israel! ... My heart recoils within me, my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce anger…” (Hos 11:8-9). God's passionate love for his people—for humanity—is at the same time a forgiving love. It is so great that it turns God against himself, his love against his justice. (Deus Caritas Est 10).

But the mystery deepens still. You are not just the grain of sand or dirt inside a pearl, you are the oyster that God coats with cosmic and infinite luster. The oyster that is you is the pearl of God's desire, and this truth itself is a pearl of the greatest value in the eyes of God. The dirt is not dissolved; it realizes that it is found at the heart of the pearly substance that surrounds it. “God became man so that man might become God,” as St Athanasius boldly said. The Incarnation, then, is the infinite gift of love that does not hesitate to become small, weak, and mortal. “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor 5:21). It is not a loss but a gift—a God who walks into the waters of our pain and joy, and says, “Let me be one with you, so you may become one with Me.”

To end, I would like to use St Gregory of Narek’s idea of double kinship or double bridge between God and human beings. On one hand, God and humanity are kin because we are made in God’s image and likeness (Gen 1:26-27). The salt doll helps us glimpse this first kinship that God stepped fully into our lives so that we might step fully into God.

The other kinship is Christ’s Incarnation or kenosis. His namesake St Gregory of Nyssa argues that Christ’s Incarnation is what completes and perfects our divine kinship. What began as a fall becomes, in God’s hands, the very place where grace shines brightest. The pearl helps us glimpse this other kinship, reminding us that our wounds are not wasted when we let God transform them through love.

Is your joy complete, knowing you are loved without condition, even in your frailty?

Remain in His love. Let this love dissolve your fear. Let it polish your pain. Let it lead you deeper, until at last, with joy, you too can say, “Now I know what love is and how to remain in that love.” Amen. Fr JM Manzano SJ