Saturday, November 15, 2025

Homily for the Feast Day of the Holy Apostle and Evangelist Matthew in the Orthodox Church

 


1 Corinthians 4:9-16; Matthew 9:9-13

As we begin the Nativity Fast in preparation to enter into the great joy of the Savior’s birth, we do so with the recognition that salvation has come to the world through what appeared at the time as utter foolishness.  The eternal Son of God became a human being, born in lowly circumstances in a barn. Imagine how His coming looked to the leaders of the Jewish people who had no expectation of the God-Man, a truly divine Messiah with a virgin mother.  They had wanted a powerful political and military leader who would deliver their nation from the occupation of the Roman Empire.  They also expected their deliverer to be a strict teacher of religious law who would bring earthly blessings upon the righteous and condemnation upon Gentiles and sinners.    

            Jesus Christ certainly did not fit their expectations either at His birth or throughout His public ministry.  On this feast day of St. Matthew the Apostle and Evangelist, we remember that He called Matthew, a tax collector, to be His disciple.  As we remember from the story of Zaccheus, tax collectors were Jews who worked for the Romans, collecting more than was required from their own people and living off the difference.  Their fellow Jews hated them as traitors and thieves.  No one would have expected the Messiah of Israel to call a tax collector to follow Him as a disciple, but that is precisely what the Lord did.  If that were not shocking enough, He also ate with tax collectors and sinners, which in that time and place was seen as participating in their uncleanness.    In the eyes of the Pharisees, Christ defiled Himself and broke the Old Testament law by doing so.   For the Messiah to act in such ways was worse than foolishness; it was blasphemy and a sign that He was not a righteous Jew, let alone the one anointed to fulfill God’s promises to Abraham.    

            In response, the Lord made clear that His apparent wickedness demonstrated a much higher righteousness than that of His critics.  He said that sick people, not healthy ones, are in need of a doctor’s care.   He said that He came to call not the righteous, but sinners, to repentance.  Who requires healing, the sick or the well?  Who needs to repent, those who are already faithful or those who are not?  Christ quoted the Old Testament to remind His opponents that God desired mercy and not sacrifice.  In other words, He related to others in ways that embodied the divine compassion toward corrupt and broken people.  He came to heal every infirmity and to restore the fallen image of God in us all, which is why He offered Himself fully on the Cross for the salvation of the world and conquered death through His glorious resurrection.   As so many of the Old Testament prophets had proclaimed, religious ceremonies and rules are worthless for those who refuse to manifest God’s mercy to the human beings they encounter every day.  In conveying the divine compassion to those considered God’s enemies, Christ appeared to be a sacrilegious fool in the eyes of those who had so terribly distorted the faith of Israel.  

            Saint Paul wrote about the ministry of the apostles that they were fools for Christ’s sake.  Before Christianity was popular, established, or well-known anywhere, they left everything behind for a ministry that led to poverty, persecution, and death.   Like the countless martyrs of Christian history throughout the centuries, the apostles certainly appeared as fools to the vast majority of people in their time and place.  Why risk your life for the memory of an obscure Jewish rabbi?  Why not burn some incense to Caesar, become a Muslim, or join the Communist Party?  Why lose your own life for saving Jews from the Holocaust, as did St. Maria (Skobtsova) of Paris? 

            Those of us who face no real persecution for our faith must recognize that Christ still calls us to be fools for His sake in our lives every day.  He scandalized the self-righteous by calling St. Matthew to follow Him and by associating with people of bad reputation.  Christ did not endorse their sins, but He endured criticism in order to draw them to repentance and healing.  He showed them the mercy of God by building loving relationships with them that made it possible to invite them to recover the beauty of their souls. If we are truly sharing in the life of the Savior, we must not become like those who judged Him for treating tax collectors and sinners with compassion.  We must not demonize and condemn our neighbors whose ways of life are not the paths to holiness that we seek to pursue as Orthodox Christians.  Doing so will not draw anyone to the blessedness of the Kingdom, but it will bring judgment upon us for our pride and self-righteousness.  We will then be just like the Pharisees who criticized the Lord for keeping company with disreputable people. 

            Our calling is to remain faithful to the teachings and practices of Orthodox Christianity as exemplified by the saints across the ages.  It is not to accept the lie that all behaviors and beliefs are somehow equally good and holy. That would not be the way of the Lord, Who told His disciples that “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will certainly not enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” (Matt. 5: 20) Such righteousness requires that we are so transformed by His grace that we do not abandon our loved ones, friends, and acquaintances when they lose their way and make disastrous decisions about how to order their lives.  Our calling is to treat others as the Lord treats us, who are each “the chief of sinners.”   Our Savior looked like a fool to many when He kept company with people known to be sinners, and we should not be afraid to follow His example in maintaining relationships that serve as a signs of God’s steadfast love to broken and confused people whose burdens we never know fully.  If they do not experience a measure of the love of Christ through us, then how will they be drawn to the life of the Kingdom?  If they experience Christians as people who want nothing to do with them, why would they ever want to have anything to do with Christ?

We sometimes forget that those who responded best to the Lord were those who were completely shocked to receive His care, for they knew that they appeared to be lost causes.  That was surely the case for both St. Matthew and St. Zachaeus as tax collectors, thieves, and traitors.   The same was true for St. Photini, the Samaritan woman at the well with a very broken person life, who became a great evangelist and martyr.  The Canaanite woman with a demon-possessed daughter understood that God’s blessings were not only for the Jews far more clearly than did the disciples, and the Savior set her child free.  The only one of the ten lepers who returned to Christ to thank Him for his healing was a Samaritan.  The Lord said that the faith of the Roman centurion, whose servant He healed, surpassed that of any of the Jews.  He said of the sinful woman who anointed and kissed His feet in the house of Simon “her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little.” (Lk. 7:47)   Their examples show that it is not our place to declare anyone as a lost cause before the mercy of the Lord.  

            In order to have the spiritual strength and clarity to discern how to build relationships with neighbors that convey the healing mercy of Christ, we need the spiritual disciplines of the Nativity Fast, such as prayer, fasting, repentance, generosity to the needy, and reconciliation with those from whom we have become estranged.   These practices also appear foolish in our culture, especially this time of year with its focus on self-indulgence and consumerism.  The great irony is that this season is one of preparation to receive Christ Who, both at His birth and throughout His ministry, looked like a fool according to the conventional standards of His day.  But through what appeared to be foolish, He made—and continues to make-- saints out of tax-collectors, prostitutes, adulterers,  murderers, Gentiles, and other unlikely characters.  So in the weeks before Christmas, let us embrace our calling to live in what seem to be foolish ways that will draw others to the celebration of the birth of the Savior not only on December 25, but in their hearts and lives every day of the year—no matter who they are and no matter what they have done. Christ was born because our only hope, like theirs, is in His mercy for sinners.      

             

Saturday, November 1, 2025

Lazarus and the Rich Man: Homily for the Twenty-first Sunday After Pentecost & Fifth Sunday of Luke in the Orthodox Church

 

Galatians 2:16-20; Luke 16:19-31

 

It is tragic that some distort the way of Christ into a magical formula for becoming wealthy and successful according to conventional standards.  It is pathetic that some misinterpret the demands of God’s Kingdom to support whatever political or cultural agenda they happen to like.  Our recent readings from the gospel according to St. Luke present the way of Christ very differently, for they demonstrate that He often made those who were last in the eyes of the world the first to receive His healing mercy.  Remember the grieving widow of Nain whose only son He raised from death.  Recall the Gadarene demoniac, a Gentile whom He restored from a wretched existence of isolation and fear.  And today we remember poor Lazarus.

 

A rich man with the benefit of the great spiritual heritage of Abraham, Moses, and the prophets had become such a slave to gratifying his desires for indulgence in pleasure that he had become completely blind to his responsibility to show mercy to Lazarus, a miserable beggar who wanted only crumbs and whose only comfort was when dogs licked his open sores.  The rich man’s life revolved around wearing the most expensive clothes and enjoying the finest food and drink. He surely stepped over or around Lazarus at the entrance to his home on a regular basis and never did anything at all to relieve his suffering.  

 

After their deaths, the two men’s situations were reversed.  The rich man had spent his life rejecting the teachings of Moses and the prophets about the necessity of showing mercy to the poor.   He had blinded himself spiritually to the point that he could not recognize Lazarus as a neighbor who bore the image of God.  He remained blind to the love of God after his death and could perceive the divine majesty as only a burning flame of torment.  When the rich man asked Father Abraham to send Lazarus to his brothers to warn them of the consequences of living such a depraved life, the great patriarch responded, “‘If they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.’”

 

That statement applies to the corrupt religious leaders who called for Christ’s crucifixion and denied His resurrection because they wanted a warrior king who would slaughter their enemies and give them earthly power.  We must not rest content, however, with seeing how the Lord’s statement applies to others, for it challenges us even more as those who have received the fullness of the mystery of God’s salvation.  Our responsibility is far greater than that of the Jews of old, for as members of Christ’s Body, the Church, the Holy Spirit strengthens and sustains us in seeing and serving our Lord in our neighbors.  Since every human person is an icon of God, how we treat them reveals our relationship to Him.  Christ taught that what we do “to the least of these,” to the most wretched people, we do to Him.  If we become so obsessed with gratifying our own desires for pleasure or impressing others that we refuse to convey His mercy to our neighbors, our actions will show that we have rejected our Messiah and denied the truth of His resurrection.  We will then be unable to bear witness to His victory over the corrupting power of sin and death.  Regardless of what we say we believe or our membership in the Church, our actions will demonstrate that we want no part of the salvation that the God-Man has brought to the world.   Like the rich man, we will exclude ourselves from the joy of the Kingdom.  Remember the words of the Lord: “Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven.”  (Matt. 7:21)  

 

Lazarus, like everyone else, bore the image and likeness of God.  There is simply no way around the basic truth that how we relate to our neighbors reveals how we relate to our Lord.  What we do for even the most miserable and inconvenient people we encounter in life, we do for Christ.  And what we refuse to do for them, we refuse to do for our Savior.  Our salvation is in becoming more like Him as we find the healing of our souls by cooperating with His grace.  While we cannot save ourselves any more than we can rise up by our own power from the grave, we must take up the struggle to order our lives according to His commandments in order to open our souls in humility to receive His healing mercy as “partakers of the divine nature.” If we do not do that, we will suffer the spiritual blindness of the rich man in today’s gospel lesson and bring judgment upon ourselves, regardless of how much or how little of the world’s treasures we have. 

 

In the midst of our materialistic and consumeristic culture, it is easy to overlook St. Paul’s warning that “Those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.”  (1 Tim. 6: 9-10)   Wealth is not evil in and of itself, but orienting our lives around it so easily becomes a false god that inflames passions of greed, fear, self-centeredness, and a lack of love for our neighbors.  Due to love of money and the self-indulgence it fuels, the rich man in today’s parable became so enslaved to his passions that he closed his heart completely to his neighbors, even to one so obviously suffering right before his eyes. Because he would not show love for poor Lazarus, he degraded himself to the point that he simply could not love God.   As St. John wrote, “whoever has this world’s goods, and sees his brother in need, and shuts up his heart from him, how does the love of God abide in him?” (1 Jn. 3:17) The Lord Himself taught that love of God and neighbor are the greatest of the commandments. (Matt. 22: 37-40).   It is no surprise, then, that the rich man experienced the torment of bitter regret after his death, for he was in the eternal presence of the Lord Whom he had rejected throughout his life.  He had learned to love only himself, having turned away decisively from God’s love.  Hence, he was capable of perceiving the divine glory as only a burning flame.  As St. Basil the Great proclaimed to the rich who refused to share with the poor, “You showed no mercy; it will not be shown to you.  You opened not your house; you will be expelled from the Kingdom.  You gave not your bread; you will not receive eternal life.”[1]

 

Some struggle to understand how the requirement of living righteously relates to the gracious mercy of God.  This difficulty often roots in a misunderstanding of our epistle reading from St. Paul when he teaches that we are “not justified by works of the Law but through faith in Jesus Christ.”  The Apostle was responding to the insistence of some of his fellow Jewish Christians that Gentile converts had to be circumcised and become observant Jews before being baptized.  He taught that this perspective, which he strongly rejected, replaced trust in the gracious mercy of the Savior with obedience to religious rules as the very foundation of our hope for sharing in eternal life.  That is a completely different matter, however, from discerning what it means to live faithfully as those who are entrusting themselves to the mercy of Christ.  For example, St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians that persisting in gravely sinful behavior has devastating spiritual consequences.  He includes thieves, the covetous, and extortioners, along with idolators and others, among those who will not inherit the Kingdom of God, if they do not find the healing of their souls through repentance. (1 Cor. 6: 9-10)

 

There is no competition between faith and faithfulness, which are like two sides of the same coin. Since the Savior taught that “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also,” we must invest the treasure of our time, talents, and energy in tangible actions that convey the mercy of the Savior to the poor Lazaruses of our lives, as well as to those who grieve like the widow of Nain and who suffer like the Gadarene demoniac.  (Matt. 6:21) Doing so is not a matter of religious legalism but of offering ourselves to the Lord in union with His great Self-offering for the salvation of the world.  It is a matter of living as those who are in communion with Christ. His Kingdom stands in stark contradiction to the ways of the corrupt world.  If we are to gain the spiritual clarity to behold His glory as something other than a burning flame, then our lives must embody the same gracious mercy that we ask from Him every day of our lives.  That is how we will be able to say truthfully with St. Paul, “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ Who lives in me; and the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, Who loved me and gave Himself for me.”

 

 

 



[1]Basil the Great, “To the Rich,” On Social Justice, 49.