Homily for the Sunday after the Elevation of the Holy Cross in the Orthodox Church

 

Galatians 2:16-20; Mark 8:34-9:1

 

            As we continue to celebrate the Elevation of the Holy Cross, we must remain on guard against the temptation to corrupt the Christian faith into a soothing piety that requires nothing of us because the Lord Himself has already done all the work.   Through His Self-Offering on the Cross, Christ has conquered death and brought salvation to the world, but for us to share personally in His great victory, we must take up our own crosses, deny ourselves, and follow Him each day of our lives.  Refusing to do so amounts to being ashamed of Him and wanting no part of His Kingdom.  No matter what we believe or how we feel about the Lord, refusing to take up our crosses means continuing in the old ways of death and rejecting the call to enter into the joy of eternal life.    

            Today’s gospel reading follows Saint Peter’s attempt to explain to Christ that dying on the Cross had nothing to do with being the Messiah.  That is when the Lord famously said, “Get behind Me, Satan! For you are not mindful of the things of God, but the things of men.”  The Savior did not fit Peter’s expectations for the Messiah, whom he expected to be a righteous military leader like King David.  By His sharp response, Christ demonstrated that following Him is not a path to success according to the conventional standards of this world, but a calling to embrace the deep struggle of offering ourselves for growth in holiness, no matter the cost.  

            The calling to take up our crosses also stands in stark contrast to the persistent temptation to use religion to exalt ourselves in our own minds and condemn a segment of our neighbors.   It is blasphemy to corrupt the great sign of our salvation into an instrument for fueling our self-centered desires and illusions.  To the contrary, our Lord’s Cross calls us to do the hard work of refusing to gratify our passions as we unite ourselves to His great Self-Offering for the salvation of the world.     

In our epistle reading from Galatians, Saint Paul opposes fellow Jewish Christians who relied too much on their own ability to obey the Old Testament law and would have required the same of Gentile converts.  Refusing to trust in his own ability to obey religious rules, he writes that, “I have been crucified with Christ, nevertheless I live, yet not I, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself up for me.”  Paul took up his cross by enduring many struggles and difficulties out of faithfulness to the Lord, ultimately dying for him as a martyr.   He wrote to the Colossians that “I now rejoice in my sufferings for you, and fill up in my flesh what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ, for the sake of His body, which is the church.” (Col. 1:24)

There is obviously nothing deficient in our Lord’s great Self-Offering.  All that is lacking is our taking up our own crosses in obedience to the Lord’s calling to deny ourselves and follow Him. Because of our passions and the brokenness of our world of corruption, the struggle for healing inevitably requires suffering, but not as though pain were somehow pleasing to God.   Such suffering results from the inevitable tension we experience in embracing the struggle to offer ourselves fully to Christ. There is so much within each of us that does not want to do that. Truly taking up our crosses means fighting the difficult battle of confronting our own personal brokenness each day as we reject thoughts, desires, and habits that would keep us serving ourselves and the false gods of this world.  

  Christ prayed the night before His crucifixion, “Father, if You are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but Yours be done.” (Luke 22:42) He ascended the Cross in free obedience, and no one forces us to take up our crosses either.  So many problems and pains come upon us without our asking for them in this life, and it is so easy to refuse to suffer in a spiritually health way. As Job’s wife suggested, we can “Curse God and die!” (Job 2:9) in response to deep frustrations and disappointments.  We can refuse to offer our wounds to Christ for healing by finding ways to ignore them or convincing ourselves that we are still better off than the people we like to condemn.  Doing so is simply a dead end that will fuel our passions, blind us with spiritual pride, and demonstrate how ashamed we are of Christ and His Cross.

Since freedom is an intrinsic dimension of being in God’s image, no one can make us take up our crosses. Only we can unite ourselves to Christ in His Great Self-Offering for the salvation of the world. Regardless of the circumstances, we have the freedom to refuse to fall into despair, for any instance of suffering provides an opportunity to purify the desires of our hearts as we learn to entrust ourselves more fully to the Lord.  Difficulties by their nature present challenges to which we may respond in a Christlike way or according to our passions.  He offered up Himself fully upon the Cross and refused to respond in kind to those who hated and rejected Him.  Likewise, we may unite ourselves to Him in every dimension and circumstance of our lives, including those in which we are sorely tempted not to respond as He did. Illness, broken relationships with others, worries about the future, regrets about the past, crushed hopes, and even the worst losses imaginable all present opportunities to grow in “love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”  Saint Paul wrote that “those who are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.”  (Gal. 5:22-24)

Our self-centered and distorted desires usually rear their ugly heads quickly when we face trying circumstances.  If you are like me, you sometimes react like Jonah when the vine that gave him shade was eaten by a worm.  That was a very small thing, but Jonah became so angry that he literally wished he would die. (Jonah 4:5-11)   Other times we face circumstances so grave that we must struggle mightily not to fall into despair about life itself.  Whether in matters small or great, we have the opportunity to take up our crosses daily as we struggle to find healing for our souls.   

Doing so usually does not require anything dramatic or extraordinary. It is normally a matter of focusing on the basic disciplines of the Christian life, such as refusing to accept sinful thoughts into our hearts, forgiving those who have wronged us, and trusting that nothing “will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Rom. 8:39) The more that we open our souls to the Lord’s healing strength through prayer, fasting, serving our neighbors, and otherwise responding faithfully to the daily circumstances of our lives, the less time and energy we will have for stirring up the impassioned thoughts that lead to sinful actions.  The less that we cultivate worry, fear, and resentment, the more we will be able to pray to God from our hearts to grant what is best in even the most broken circumstances. We must follow the Apostle’s teaching, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7)

To share in Christ’s victory over death, we must embrace the struggle of dying to all that would keep us from uniting ourselves to Him in holiness.  Our hope is neither in our own willpower nor in being superior to anyone else, but in the gracious mercy of the One Who offered up Himself for our salvation purely out of love.  Through the Cross, He has brought life in the midst of death, light in the midst of darkness, and joy in the midst of despair.  We will receive His healing in even the most difficult dimensions of our lives as we persistently offer ourselves to Him in humble faith, no matter what challenges, pains, or disappointments life may bring us.  That is how we may die to the corrupting power of sin and enter even now into the blessedness of His Kingdom.  It is how we may learn to say truthfully with St. Paul, “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.” It is how we show that we are not ashamed of Him and His Cross, which remains a weapon of peace, a trophy invincible, and the great sign of our salvation.

 

 

 

Homily for the Sunday Before the Elevation of the Holy Cross in the Orthodox Church

 

Galatians 6:11-18; John 3:13-17

We may be tempted at times to think that we will find healing for our souls simply by   doing this or that.  We may assume that fulfilling our calling as Orthodox Christians means attending divine services, receiving the holy mysteries, and devoting ourselves to prayer, fasting, almsgiving, and other acts of piety. These are certainly indispensable practices for us to share more fully in the life of Christ, but they are not merely rituals or ends in themselves.  Our Savior calls and enables us to become not merely religiously observant but truly “a new creation” through His Cross and glorious resurrection on the third day. 

Today’s gospel reading is taken from Christ’s conversation with the Pharisee Nicodemus, who could not understand what it meant to be born again.  The Lord spoke to him neither of physical rebirth nor of the type of hypocritical religious legalism associated with the Pharisees.  Instead, He foretold the centrality of the Cross, saying that “as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.”  He refers here to an event described in Numbers 21:8-9, when the Hebrews were saved from deadly snake bites when they looked at the bronze snake held up by Moses in the desert.  

In today’s epistle reading St. Paul argued against those who trusted more in their ability to obey religious laws than in the Lord’s great Self-Offering.  He wrote, “far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me and I to the world.”  The Apostle opposed fellow Christians of Jewish heritage who thought that Gentile converts had to be circumcised in obedience to the Old Testament law.  He rejected that practice, “For in Christ Jesus, neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation.”  As St. Paul taught, “you are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus.  For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.  There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” (Gal. 3: 26-29) By conquering death through His Cross and resurrection, the Savior has opened the gates of Paradise to all who respond to Him with faith and faithfulness, regardless of who they are.   As He said to Nicodemus in today’s gospel reading, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.  For God sent His Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him.”

Our Lord was lifted up upon the Cross because, contrary to the expectations of the Pharisees, even the strictest obedience to the Old Testament law could never make anyone “a new creation.” If legalistic outward observance had the power to heal our souls, then there would have been no need for “the Son of man [to] be lifted up, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.”  Likewise, prayer, fasting, almsgiving, and all the other spiritual disciplines of the Orthodox Christian life are not matters of legal observance whereby we satisfy, impress, or earn anything from the Lord.  They are, however, ways in which we open ourselves in humility to become more receptive to His grace as His “new creation.”

In order to celebrate the Feast of the Elevation of the Cross with integrity, we must follow the instruction of St. Paul not “to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me and I to the world.” That means we must not become Orthodox Pharisees who imagine we are more righteous than others because of how we pray, fast, or observe any aspect of our Orthodox faith as though it were some kind of personal accomplishment.  To the contrary, the more receptive we become to the Lord’s grace, the more aware we will become of our sinfulness and our ongoing need for the healing mercy of the crucified and risen Lord, Who was lifted up upon the Cross out of His infinite compassion and love for the salvation of the world.  In Him, we are “a new creation,” not as a reward for any act of piety or religious observance on our part, but because “God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.”   

 

 

 

Homily for the Fourteenth Sunday of Matthew in the Orthodox Church

 

2 Corinthians 1:21-2:4; Matthew 22:2-14

 

            We began a new ecclesiastical year on September 1, which also marked the beginning of the new civil year in the Byzantine Empire.  For the ancient Hebrews, September was a time of gathering the harvest and giving thanks to God. It was in this context that Christ read from the Prophet Isaiah in the synagogue in Nazareth to “proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.” (Lk. 4:19) He said to the astonished people of His hometown: “Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” (4:21) His neighbors quickly moved from praising Him to trying to throw Him off a cliff, however, when the Savior noted that there were times when God had blessed Gentiles through the great prophets Elijah and Elisha and did not come to the aid of Jews.  The Lord had promised to Abraham “In your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed,” but the dominant hope in first-century Palestine had become nationalistic, focused on building an earthly kingdom in which righteous Jews would be blessed and Gentiles and sinners would be put down.  (Gen. 22:18) 

 

            The people of Nazareth tried to kill Christ when He proclaimed that He was a very different type of Messiah than they had expected.  Today’s parable of the wedding banquet follows the parable of the tenants in the vineyard, which was last Sunday’s gospel reading.  The Savior used these parables in the week leading to His Passion to make clear what was at stake in the actions of the corrupt religious leaders who had blinded themselves spiritually to the point that they orchestrated His death.  The parable reveals that they had become so obsessed with their own desires for worldly power that they rejected the Messiah in Whom God’s promises to Abraham are fulfilled and extended to all.

 

            The context of the parable is a wedding feast for the son of a king, which would have been the greatest celebration imaginable in that time and place.  The prophet Hosea had spoken of the relationship between God and Israel as a marriage, and weddings were signs of God’s faithfulness in blessing the Jews from generation to generation.  It is not surprising, then, that Christ often compared the Kingdom of God to a wedding feast.  He is the Bridegroom and the Church is the Bride.  (Eph. 5:32) The book of Revelation also describes the fulfillment of the heavenly reign as a marriage banquet, the Wedding Feast of the Lamb. (Rev. 19:6-9)

             

            How tragic, then, that the religious leaders who should have been in the best position to enter into the joy of spiritual union with Christ refused to do so.  They were like the guests invited to the wedding in the parable who “made light of it and went off, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized… [the king’s] servants, treated them shamefully, and killed them.”  In the parable, the king then sent his servants out into the streets to invite whomever they could to the celebration, “both bad and good; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.”

 

When Christ spoke of those who disregarded the invitation in order to go to their farms and businesses, He was criticizing those who were so obsessed with their wealth, possessions, and status that they refused to attend to the healing of their souls.  They were so passionately attached to the things of this world that they chose them over entering into the fullness of God’s blessing.  They were honored religious leaders, but the desires of their hearts were focused elsewhere.  It is not surprising, then, that the others who refused the king’s invitation “seized his servants, treated them shamefully, and killed them.”  Even as idolatrous rulers and false prophets killed the righteous servants of God in the Old Testament, those primarily driven by the love of money, possessions, and power stopped at nothing to destroy even the Lord Himself, Whom they perceived as a threat to what they held most dear.

 

In light of their refusal to come to the wedding feast, the king in the parable instructed the servants to invite as many other people as possible, including “the bad and the good.”  The Savior points here to the Church in which the distinction between Jew and Gentile is overcome, for He invites everyone to enter into the great joy of the heavenly banquet.  As St. Paul taught, “if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” (Gal. 3:29) His fulfillment of the human person in God’s image and likeness is not reserved for those of a particular ancestry or nationality.   It is not reserved for those who have never fallen short of doing what is pleasing to God.  If that were the case, it would have nothing to do with us.  The good news is that, even as the king in the parable wanted the banquet hall to be filled, Christ came to save the entire world and turns no one away who responds to Him with humble faith, love, and repentance.

 

“Many are called, but few are chosen.”  Those words end the parable right after the king ordered that the man without a wedding garment be thrown out of the celebration.  In that time and place, the host provided guests with the proper attire.  This fellow, after being invited to the great banquet, did not respond with gratitude and respect toward his host.  He must have refused to put on the garment, apparently wanting the benefits of being at the party on his own terms.  Thus, he excluded himself from the celebration.

 

We enter into the Body of Christ through baptism, in which we put Him on like a garment.  “As many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ,” wrote Saint Paul. (Gal. 3:27) Our baptism is the beginning of the Christian life, and we must attend mindfully to living each day as those who are entering into the Kingdom of God by grace.  If we do not, then the entire life of the Church will leave us cold, and we will find even the most basic spiritual disciplines to be burdens we would rather do without.   If we define what is truly important in life as fulfilling our usual set of daily obligations, satisfying our self-centered desires, and finding ways to distract ourselves from confronting the true state of our souls, then  we will always think that we have better things to do than to unite ourselves to Christ.  We will then become like that man who wanted the benefits of being a wedding guest without accepting even the most basic expectations of the invitation.  He was so focused on himself that he shut himself out of the great celebration every bit as much as those who had refused to come in the first place.

 

Living according to the “acceptable year of the Lord” is completely different from becoming like those who disregarded the invitation to the wedding feast or like the fellow who was thrown out.  We must not give our hearts to the things of this world but to the eternal blessedness of a Kingdom that we do not deserve.  Instead of making religion a tool for getting what we want on our own terms or pretending that this or that is somehow more important than sharing in the life of God by grace, we must cultivate the gratitude of those who are shocked to become guests at the Wedding Feast of the Lamb.  That is not simply a future hope but also a present reality, for we enter mystically into the Heavenly Reign whenever we lift up our hearts and offer bread and wine in the Divine Liturgy.  Our calling is to live each day as those who wear a wedding garment, the garment of light restored to us in baptism.  Recognizing that “Many are called, but few are chosen,” let us begin this new year in the Church with a steadfast commitment to make doing so the highest priority of our lives.