Life After Demons and Pigs: Homily for the Sixth Sunday of Luke in the Orthodox Church

           

                                                                  Luke 8: 27-39          

            It’s probably human nature to think about moving on to a new place from time to time.  The prospect of starting over, putting our old problems behind us, and having new and exciting opportunities often appeals to us. Sometimes we just get restless and long for something new.

            That’s how the man in today’s gospel lesson felt.  Jesus Christ had cast many demons out of him and had delivered him from a terrible existence.  The wretched man had been naked, living in a cemetery, with no family or friends.  Everyone was afraid of him, for even chains and shackles could not control him when the demons took over.  After the Lord set him free, the man understandably wanted to leave town, to follow the One who had delivered him.  But Christ did not want him to do that.  Instead, he was to return to his own house and tell what great things God had done him.  So that is what he did; he proclaimed throughout the whole city how the Lord had blessed him and had given him his life back.

            We surely cannot blame this poor fellow for wanting to move on.  He must have been known in the country of the Gadarenes as that crazy man whom everybody feared.  That is apparent from people’s reaction to the sight of him when he is finally clothed and in his right mind.  They were afraid and probably wondered what would happen next.  They even asked the Lord to depart because of it.  Perhaps this was some kind of trick.  Maybe he would become violent again at any moment.  The man knew that this was how people viewed him and was probably ashamed, as any of us would be in his situation.  So he wanted to put his hometown behind him and not look back.  He wanted simply to be with Jesus Christ, who was probably the only person who had shown him compassion and friendship in many years.

            But that was not Christ’s plan.  He knew that the Gadarenes did not understand the Gospel.  He knew that they were so disturbed by the amazing changes in the man’s life that they could not hear the word of the Lord.  So it was time for the Savior to leave, but the man who had been possessed by demons was to stay.  For eventually, people would see that the positive changes in this man were permanent.  Over time, they would get to know him and accept him.  And his new life would be living proof of Christ’s salvation.  He would be living evidence that God’s blessing and healing have come even to demon-possessed Gentiles of whom everyone was terrified.  He would be a living sign that the mercy of Christ extends to all and can heal even the worst wounds and diseases of our souls.

            To this day, some are called to be itinerate evangelists, to travel from here to there proclaiming the Gospel; some are called to be physicians, nurses, teachers, or development workers in far-away lands.  But most of us are not.  Most of us are called, like the man in today’s lesson, to stay right where we are, among those who know us well—for good or for bad—to work out our salvation together with them.   Our challenge is to accept with humility the family, the church community, the job, the school, the friends, the neighborhood, the blessings and the challenges, that God in His providence has allowed us to face.  No, He is never the author of evil, but He calls us to put up with one another’s weaknesses and life’s disappointments with patience, perseverance, and forgiveness.  If we think that the grass is always greener somewhere else, we will never learn that we are members of a Body, that we are not isolated individuals, but members of one another in Christ.  Whether in church, family, work, school, or friendships, it is by bearing with one another that we work through our difficulties and learn to stop thinking simply in terms of our own desires, but in terms of what is best for others with whom we share a common life.

            Staying put is often good, not only for our communities and relationships, but for ourselves.  The man who had been demon-possessed could have left his town and put that sad part of his life behind him.  It would have been easier for him to forget his painful past by moving on.  But perhaps we kid ourselves when we think that it is best to put the dark moments of our lives completely out of mind.  They are reminders of our weakness and of the truth that that we do not save ourselves, that we are always dependent upon the Lord’s mercy and blessing in our lives.  We are never self-sufficient as Christians, and our journey is not one of perfect success.  No, we should not obsess on our weaknesses, failures, and pains; it is rarely helpful to dwell upon them.  We should be grateful and joyful about God’s blessings in our lives.  But we should also acknowledge what our past sins reveal about us:  our spiritual sickness and brokenness, and the fact that we can easily fall back into the pit of our own corruption.  When we remember who we were, and where we are tempted to return, we are reminded to stay focused, to be on guard, and to be all the more thankful that the Lord has raised us up from our low estate.  It was true for the Gadarene demoniac, and it is true for all of us who have put on the new life in Christ.  When we remember what it was like to wallow in the mire of our passions like pigs in mud, we will glorify with humility the One who set us free.

            Another reason for staying home was the impact that this man’s example would have on his friends and neighbors.  For there is no more powerful evidence of the truth of the Gospel, there is no stronger witness of Christ’s salvation, than a life transformed.  That poor man was so overwhelmed by evil that he had lost his identity as a person.  When the Lord asked him his name, the man replied, “Legion,” because he was filled with so many demons.  And, as we have seen, he acted like someone controlled by the forces of evil.  But after Christ delivered him, the man returned to a normal human life, clothed and in his right mind.  

            If he had left town, no one whom he met would have known about his past unless he had mentioned it.  And even if he told them about it, the story would not be nearly as significant for them as it would be for the people in his hometown.  It is one thing to hear about someone’s transformation, but quite another to see it with your own eyes.  And it was only by staying home that this man was able to become a uniquely powerful icon of what Jesus Christ can do to heal and fulfill even the most miserable human being.

            Of course, we have not been running around demon-possessed, naked, and out of our minds in cemeteries.  But we have all at times give into our temptations and allowed our passions to overtake us.  Though we may have repented and found God’s forgiveness, we can still be ashamed to encounter people or situations that remind us of our failings.   Out of pride, we do not want to be reminded of how we acted and how we may be tempted to act again. Granted, we should not put ourselves in situations of great temptation when we can avoid it.  But we also should not hide our light under a bushel; we should not allow pride to keep us from showing others to what the Lord has done for us.  Like the Gadarene demoniac, we should return to our house, our home, our neighborhood, our classroom, our workplace, our friendships, and become a living example of what Jesus Christ can do in the lives of sinners.

            Some may be skeptical of the changes in us or even afraid and ask us to leave, as they did to Christ Himself.  Regardless of that, we should simply focus on living with joy, gratitude, and humility the new life that the Lord has given us.  That is how we will proclaim the good news of the Kingdom of God even as we remain in our familiar settings, giving thanks for the great things that Christ has done for us.  And then others will know that the Lord’s mercy, blessing, and healing are for people just like you and me, right where we are, no matter how painful the past has been.  As St. Seraphim of Sarov taught, “Acquire the Spirit of peace and thousands around you will be saved.”

"Love Your Enemies" and Commune with Christ: Homily for the 14th Sunday After Pentecost in the Orthodox Church

Luke 6: 31-16            

           One of the hardest things in life is to be kind to those who have offended us.   It seems to come naturally to respond with resentment, anger, and judgment to those who treat us poorly.  This is true in our personal relationships, in our families, at work or school, and it is also true when we think of how nations get along or often do not get along.  In the world as we know it, it is easy to do good to those who do good to us, but terribly hard to love our enemies.

            So we may wonder why the Lord gave us such a difficult teaching to follow as we find in today’s gospel lesson.  Be merciful even as your Father in heaven is merciful.  Love your enemies.  Do good to everyone; lend expecting nothing in return.  Treat others as you wish to be treated.  Christ Himself tells us that this is the difficult path to the blessed life of the Kingdom of God.

            I know that we are tempted to say that this message somehow does not apply to us.  Maybe it is possible for monastics, such as the great ascetic St. Cyriacus the Anchorite of Palestine whom we commemorate today, or for others who lived long ago or in other parts of the world.  We often despair, however, of actually obeying Christ’s command ourselves.  We do so because, like everyone else since Adam and Eve, we are fallen people in a fallen world.

            No matter what century or country we live in, no matter our age or marital status or occupation, we all struggle against the spiritual diseases that make it so hard to forgive, love, and serve those who have violated our pride by offending us.  We have turned away collectively and individually from the truth that we are made for a common life in the image and likeness of God.  We have forgotten that it is our very nature as persons to be united with one another in love as are the members of the Holy Trinity.

            No, our calling is not simply to have friends or family members. Even terrorists and gangsters have them, for it is easy for people to love those who love them—even if they are so filled with hate against others that they think nothing of killing innocent people who get in their way.  But what kind of love is that?  It is a love not even worthy of the name because it is really nothing more than self-centered desire, than simply judging others in terms of whether they please us.  If so, they will be nice to them.  If not, they will find a way to destroy them.

            Of course, that is an extreme example; but we have only to look in the mirror to find instances that hit closer to home.  If our spouse, child, or best friend needs help, we usually do not even think twice about doing what we can.  But if it is someone whom we do not like, who has wronged us, or a stranger whose request is simply inconvenient, we make excuses. And sometimes we treat even our spouses, children, and friends in such poor ways.   When we do so, we live according to the lie that whether people please us is what determines whether we relate to them as those who bear the image and likeness of God or as nuisances not worthy of our attention.

And in that moment, we commit idolatry as surely as if we bowed down before a golden calf, for we are simply serving ourselves, worshiping our own will, and disregarding the calling that the Lord has given us all:  to participate in the mercy of our Father in heaven.  He is kind to the ungrateful and selfish.  He loves even those who reject Him, even those who killed His Son and the rest of us who reject Him so often in what we say and do.   Still, He bestows countless blessings on us all.  And through the Son whom He sent out of love for the world, we are able to become participants in His life, to become His sons and daughters.

How tragic, then, that we so often choose to reject this high calling and instead to live according to the same corrupt principles that continue to bring crime, war, and broken relationships of all kinds to the world.  How sad that we so often prefer death to life, pain to joy, and the hollow victory of self-exaltation to the blessedness of growing in communion with one another and with the Lord Himself.  And if we as Christians live this way, what hope is there for a world where helping our friends and cursing our enemies is just business as usual?

Jesus Christ is certainly the hope of both the Church and the world.  He is our hope because He brought a new way for human beings to relate to others and to God.  He died and rose again for those who rejected Him, who nailed Him to a cross and thought that He was demon-possessed.  He not only healed His own people the Jews, but showed the same mercy to Gentiles, Samaritans, and even a Roman centurion, a foreign soldier who occupied His homeland.  He was at times very frustrated with the disciples for their lack of faith; they largely abandoned Him at His arrest and crucifixion, but Christ still appeared to them after His resurrection and blessed them as the leaders of the Church.

Our Savior is the embodiment of mercy to everyone, for He came to save and transform the entire world, the whole creation, and especially every human being—for we are all created in the divine image and likeness with the glorious calling to share fully in His victory over sin and death, to ascend with Him to the peace and joy of eternal life.  Even more amazing is the truth that we are able to participate in Him, to be nourished by His Body and Blood, the medicine of immortality and holiness.  And, yes, we really are able to become merciful as our Father in heaven is merciful.  By being filled and transformed by His grace, we may become living icons of the divine love and light even in our most difficult relationships.

No, receiving the Eucharist does not automatically restore us to perfect spiritual health. We have to prepare to receive Christ for our salvation by repentance, prayer, and fasting, but we are still never worthy of Him because He is the infinitely Holy God and we are sick and in need of a physician.  We are the dying who need to be brought back to life. We probably reject Him in some way every day.  And yet He still loves us, receives our prayers for mercy, and even makes us guests at His Heavenly Banquet.  In every Divine Liturgy, we enact and participate in the joy of our salvation, the unfathomable mercy of God that extends even to you and me.

The answer to our tendency to be kind only to those who are kind to us and to worship at the altar of our self-centered desires is found in the One who offered Himself for those who were not kind to Him, who treated Him like an enemy to the point of death.  Again and again, as we approach Him “With the fear of God and faith and love,” we become what we receive.  His selfless mercy will transform us, becoming the deep truth of our lives that we will live out in how we treat friend and foe alike.  Of course, we must cooperate by mindfully struggling to go the extra mile for others even when we do not want to, by turning the other cheek when we are insulted, and biting our tongues when we would like to respond in kind to harsh words.  We will surely stumble and fall short on this path, but with a prayer for mercy, we must move forward, step by step, in showing others the same compassion that we ask from our Lord.  And then we will become more like our Father in heaven, whose mercy extends even to you and me.         

Let us never think of the Eucharist as just something that we do every week or even simply as how we as individuals commune with Christ.  More fundamentally, the Eucharist is   how we are transformed to be the Body of Christ, in communion with the Holy Trinity and the Church in heaven and on earth. It is how we participate personally in our Lord and fulfill our true nature as human beings united in love with all who bear the divine image and likeness, even our enemies.   It is an icon of the Heavenly Banquet to which we all—friend and foe alike—are invited.  

So despite our spiritual brokenness and imperfect relationships, let us put aside everything that stands in the way of opening ourselves by prayer, repentance, and faithful reception of our Lord’s Body and Blood to the joy and reconciliation that are ours as the sons and daughters of the God.  Let us leave this holy temple strengthened in our ability to be kind even to the ungrateful and selfish and to be merciful like our Father in heaven.  Let us make all our relationships visible signs of the great salvation that Jesus Christ has brought to the world, and thereby grow closer to Him and to one another. 

How to Become "Fishers of Men" in the Context of our Daily Work: A Homily for the 13th Sunday After Pentecost in the Orthodox Church

          

St. Luke 5:1-11; 1 Corinthians 16: 13-24

                  I am sure that every one of us has felt at some point in our lives just like the frustrated fishermen did when Jesus Christ found them washing their nets.  They had fished all night and caught nothing at all.  As happens so often in our own lives, things had not turned out as they had hoped despite their best efforts.  They were disappointed and frustrated to the point of giving up.   But then the Lord told them to get back to work and let down their net.   They did so and somehow caught so many fish that their net was breaking; then they hauled in so many fish that their weight almost sank two boats.

            That must have been quite a scene, and it was so astonishing that St. Peter recognized this tremendous abundance as a miracle.  He fell down before Christ and said, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!” But the Lord responded said, “Do not be afraid.  From now on you will catch men.”  Then the disciples left behind their boats and nets and followed Jesus Christ.

            That day probably began like any other day in the family fishing business that they had always known.  The men were busy with their work and did not expect anything unusual to happen.  Over the years, there had surely been many times before when they had caught nothing.  So it was time to wash their nets and hope for the best the next time.  But in the midst of their disappointment and resignation, the Lord blessed them in a way that helped them see their lives, and calling in life, in a new way.  Their work would no longer be catching fish, but bringing people into the eternal life of the Kingdom of God.

            The details are different, but Jesus Christ says something very similar to us all.  No matter what we do every day, no matter how satisfied or disappointed we may be with our circumstances, the Lord invites us to participate in bringing the blessings of His Kingdom to the world and all its inhabitants. 

            Of course, the disciples were called to a special ministry in the founding of the Church; they had to leave their old occupations and serve the Lord full-time as evangelists, apostles, bishops, and ultimately as martyrs.   Some continue to hear similar callings to this day. But most of us will remain right where we are for the foreseeable future, in the familiar circumstances of our families, neighborhoods, workplaces, and schools with all their strengths and weaknesses.

            Familiarity often breeds contempt, and we may be tempted to think that because we do not have our “dream job” or live in a setting more to our liking that we are somehow failures.  When we think in those says, we forget that the measure of our lives is not in success according to the standards of the world or even to our own preferences.  The fishermen did not expect a miraculous haul or a new calling in the midst of their frustration.  We cannot place limits on what God is doing through us and with us even when we are disappointed, frustrated, and unfulfilled.    

            Likewise, we may think that really holy people are all in monasteries, seminaries, and mission fields, not in the mundane circumstances in which we find ourselves.  We may doubt that what we do each day could be truly pleasing to God and what we are really called to do.  We must remember, however, that every bit of our life and work is called to become holy.  Everything that we do provides an opportunity to be stewards of God’s creation and to offer our lives and the fruits of our labor to the Lord for blessing and fulfillment. 

            For Jesus Christ is present to us in every human being whom we encounter at work, school, or elsewhere since we all bear His image and likeness.  Every human being and the entire creation are called to shine with the light of our Lord’s glory.  In our daily lives, we are all to become priests who offer the world back to God for His blessing.  We are all to become iconographers who bring out the beauty of the creation so that it manifests the life of our Lord, so that it becomes an image of His Kingdom.   That is as true for every one of us as it is for the monks on Mt. Athos and our bishops and patriarchs. 

            In order for us to accept this high calling, we must learn from St. Paul about how to work every day as priests and iconographers of the creation.  We need to obey his teaching to “Watch, stand fast in the faith, be brave, be strong.  Let all that you do be done with love.”  Some have claimed that Christianity is a religion for the weak, for wimps who want to feel better about being the doormats and losers of life.  But those who take up their crosses and follow Jesus Christ know that this is not a way for the weak and timid, but for those who boldly step out in faith to resist the temptation to do what is easy and popular and satisfies our self-centered desires.  

            In contrast, the true Christian life requires discipline, self-sacrifice, and the sort of dogged commitment characteristic of athletes, soldiers, and others who do the hard work of sacrificing for a good higher than themselves.  Opportunities to grow in this kind of life are available to us all in whatever set of circumstances we face today.  

            Some in our parish care for the sick and troubled; some take on the great burdens of defending our nation or protecting us from crime; some provide jobs by running a business or provide goods and services that people need in order to live a decent life; others teach; some take care of a home or a family; some go to school; and some are retired.   At times, we all get discouraged and frustrated; we have conflicts with others or feel neglected or mistreated by them.  At times we may wonder if there is any point at all to what we do every day.  When we feel this way, we must remember that the Son of God has entered into our world and blessed every bit of it.  He wants to sanctify every human being, every relationship, every responsibility, task, and assignment that we have—and every word that we speak.  Nothing is foreign to Him; nothing is outside of His love and salvation.

            When we live and work faithfully in our present circumstances, we have the opportunity to transform a portion—no matter how small-- of God’s good creation for His glory.  And we are reminded that salvation is not a matter of the spiritual experience of isolated individuals, for we all journey together toward a new heaven and a new earth.  Jesus Christ’s ministry of feeding the hungry, healing the sick, restoring sight to the blind, and proclaiming good news to the poor shows that His salvation concerns the real-life challenges that people continue to face in the world as we know it.  He showed God’s love for the hated Gentiles and Samaritans, for people who had fallen into great sin and were shunned by respectable people.  In His Body, the Church, all peoples and nations are to be reconciled and united in the life of the Kingdom.

            Whether we see it or not, the circumstances we face each day provide an opportunity to play a role in bringing salvation to the world and all its inhabitants.  Everything that we do and say at work, school, or among family and friends should be sign of God’s blessing to those we encounter. We all have the opportunity to forgive; to work toward reconciliation with those from whom we have become estranged; and not to let greed, ambition, or power get in the way of relating to others with honesty, kindness, and decency.           Of course, our work must support us financially if we are to live in the world, but there is a difference between meeting our legitimate needs and selfishly worshipping comfort, convenience, and “the almighty dollar.”

            Our calling is to use the challenges and blessings of our daily grind to grow in holiness as we play our role in making this world an icon of God’s salvation.  That’s how we will become fishers of men in our daily work.  For salvation is not an escape from the world, but its fulfillment.  Spirituality is not about separating ourselves from others, but about serving one another in Christ-like humility.

            Human labor has fashioned wheat into bread and grapes into wine.  By the power of the Holy Spirit, they will soon become the Body and Blood of Christ, our salvation, our Communion with the Holy Trinity.  The same will be true of our daily life and work in the world when we offer ourselves and all our labors to Him.  Then like the first disciples, we will move from frustration to amazement at God’s blessing to become fishers of men.    

    

           

   

              

The Way of the Cross and the Crisis in Syria: Homily for the Feast of the Nativity of the Most Holy Theotokos and the Sunday Before the Elevation of the Holy Cross in the Orthodox Church

           

            We have a lot going on today in the Church with our liturgical calendar, parish activities, and response to world events.  I am wearing blue because it is the Feast of the Nativity of the Theotokos, the birthday of the Virgin Mary.  Since this coming Saturday is the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, our epistle and gospel readings focus on that theme.

            In addition, His Eminence Metropolitan PHILIP has urged us to ask our senators and congressman to oppose authorizing a military strike on Syria, which is the home of our Antiochian Orthodox Church. His Beatitude Patriarch JOHN X requests that we take up a special collection next Sunday for the “Antiochian Day of Solidarity” which will go toward humanitarian relief in Syria. And today we resume Christian Education classes after our summer recess.

            Yes, that seems like a lot, but it is not that much different from life as usual in the world as we know it.  The situation in Syria is certainly terrible and we should all pray, give generously, and do whatever else we can to ease the burdens there of everyone.   Unfortunately, the innocent have suffered ever since Cain murdered his brother Abel.  The bloodshed and misery of wars and exiles described throughout the Old Testament are well known.  Wicked King Herod tried unsuccessfully to kill the infant Jesus, but then succeeded in slaughtering thousands of young boys in the region of Bethlehem.  The Church has survived centuries of persecution in various times and places; there are still martyrs who die for their faith to this day in Syria, Egypt, and many other countries.

            It is tempting to think that worldly power is the solution to such difficult situations.  But as anyone who has studied history even a bit knows, one war often sows the seeds that lead to the next and none of it is holy. Regardless of who has a better claim to being justified in killing, the blood of the victims cries out from generation to generation, often inspiring revenge and vengeance. No matter the details, “the wages of sin is death” and the spiritual damage of taking life under any circumstances is profound. When we “cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war,” all hell is liable to break loose in ways that no one is able to control, whether in the soul of one person or the collective life of the world.  For example, our nation is only beginning to come to grips with the psychological, spiritual, and moral trauma endured by so many of our veterans in the last decade.    

            Perhaps that sober recognition will help us see how important it is that God did not save the world through a conquering king or a powerful army, but through a Suffering Servant Who hung on a cross at the hands of the most powerful empire on earth.  He defeated the powers of sin and death not by shedding the blood of others, but by allowing His own blood to be shed.  Purely out of love, Jesus Christ entered fully into horrific torture and the black night of the grave as one of the world’s countless victims and then rose victorious, bringing all the departed with Him.  Our hope is in our crucified and risen Lord, in the selfless, forgiving, humble way of the cross that remains a scandal to the rulers of this age.

            Unfortunately, there are times when the use of deadly force to protect the innocent is a tragic necessity in our fallen world.  But even then, the Church provides spiritual therapy for the healing of the soul of those who have blood on their hands for whatever reason.  Whether through movies, television, video games, a sensationalistic news media, or our own passions, we have become desensitized to the profound gravity of using violence against those created in the image and likeness of God.  Much of our entertainment and news has become a celebration of graphic violence and almost another form of pornography, a way of taking perverse pleasure in the horrible distortion of what it means to be a human being called to a life of holiness.  We do not have to be vampires or zombies in order to lust for blood, especially the blood of those we feel justified in hating.

            The way of Jesus Christ is, however, totally different.  And it should not be surprising that He took His humanity from a mother who was not corrupted by the ways of the world.  Today we celebrate her birthday, when the infant Mary was born to the old, righteous, and barren couple Sts. Joachim and Anna.  They prayed for a child whom they dedicated to the Lord.  Mary grew up in the Temple in prayer and purity.  And when she could no longer remain there, St. Joseph was chosen as her guardian.  Then she became the Theotokos, the virgin mother of our Savior, and had the unique and amazing role of giving human life to the incarnate Son of God.  She did not abandon Him, even at the foot of His cross.

            In every war-torn country, there are old people who like Sts. Joachim and Anna have hope only in God.  There are completely vulnerable babies and young girls whose lives and safety are at risk in ways too numerable to count and often too horrible to describe.  The brokenness of life in our corrupt world is such that civilians--such the old and the young--are often among the most vulnerable victims of war.  Sts. Joachim, Anna, and their daughter lived in a time of Roman occupation and the threat of terrible violence against anyone who dared challenge the powers that be.  That is why the Romans crucified traitors and rebels, which is what they did to Jesus Christ.

            The Roman Empire eventually fell apart in both the West and the East.  Such will be the fate of all the kingdoms and nations of the world, including our own, no matter what weapons we have. As much as we love our country, we know that it is not the Kingdom of God or “the life of the world to come.”  Like Sts. Joachim, Anna, and the Theotokos, we are called to embody the ways of the heavenly Kingdom even as we live amidst the broken realities of earthly kingdoms.  We cannot pretend as though we have escaped the dynamics of this life or that the world will somehow become a perfect place if we simply call for peace or advocate for other high minded ideals.  Instead, we must humbly do what we can in order to become livings icon of God’s salvation in a world where people hate and disregard one another and look for their salvation just about anyplace else than the cross of Christ.

            For example, we all have room to grow in showing the love and mercy of the Lord in our own families, friendships, workplaces, schools, and other familiar settings.  We all have ways of thinking, speaking, and acting that need to be purified and redirected according to the ways of God’s Kingdom.  We all need to take up our crosses and die to self in how we relate to those whom we view as enemies in our personal lives.  If we want peace and reconciliation in the world at large, we must begin with our little bit of the world, with our own souls and the neighbors we encounter on a daily basis.

            In addition, we must give as generously as we can in efforts to relieve the suffering of refugees and other victims of the civil war in Syria.  I know that our parish has already been remarkably generous in earlier drives to raise funds.  But now our Patriarch, who lives in the midst of this crisis in Damascus, has asked us to open our hearts again to our suffering brothers and sisters.  So if you are at all able to share from what God has given you to bless those who have lost everything in this cruel conflict, I hope that you will put an offering in the collection plate for Syria either today or next Sunday.  And regardless of whether you can donate, pray intensely for those who suffer there.   

            Heeding the call of our Metropolitan, we should also urge our government to refrain from taking steps that will only make a bad situation worse—and instead do what it can to help refugees, promote stability and reconciliation, and protect Christians and other vulnerable groups from persecution.  None of this is about conventional politics between groups that compete for power.  All of it is about living out the selfless love shown on the cross by Jesus Christ. Like Sts. Joachim and Anna, as well as the Theotokos, let us look to Him as our only hope.  Let us play our small role in making His life present in a world that desperately needs forgiveness and peace, for we have already had more than enough vengeance, contempt, and the shedding of blood.   Our Lord has already conquered death; let us live accordingly.

Marking Time: Homily for the Ecclesiastical New Year in the Orthodox Church

           

             Have you ever noticed the ways we mark the passage of time in our lives?   Since my “day job” is in a university, I usually think in terms of semesters and academic years.  Many of us may look back to “the good old days” when we remember life being better or look ahead to a time when we are done with school or able to retire.  Perhaps family life was better or worse for us in the past or the economy or the world situation was more or less to our liking.  One way or another, we will find a way to make sense of how our lives fit into a larger scheme of time.

            Jesus Christ began His ministry by announcing that a new phase of time had begun.  No, He was not talking about a new season of the year or the rule of a new emperor.  Instead, the Lord proclaimed that He Himself is the fulfillment of all the hopes and dreams of the Old Testament prophets for the fullness of time, for the presence of God’s Kingdom.  The word “messiah” means “anointed one,” and He is truly the One anointed to preach the good news of salvation to poor, brokenhearted, blind, and captive humanity.  This Second Adam has come to set right everything set wrong by the first Adam, to usher us into a new life in which our self-inflicted spiritual wounds, and all their unhappy consequences, are healed.  By restoring us to the dignity of the children of God in the divine likeness, the Lord’s salvation strikes at the heart of why people fear, oppress, abuse, and violate one another in the world as we know it.  By making us participants in His life, Christ enables us to live out personally the blessedness of the Kingdom in a world still mired in the ways of slavery and death.    

            That is precisely why St. Paul wrote that Christians should pray for everyone, especially for those with power and authority in the world, that we may live “a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and reverence.  For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.”  Have you noticed how we pray so often in our services for the peace of the world, the union of all people, and favorable conditions for all those created in the image and likeness of God?  Because we believe that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the entire world, we want literally everyone to participate in the blessings of His Kingdom.  We want literally everyone to be set free from captivity to sin and death and all their ill effects.  As those who live in the new day of God’s reign, how could we want anything less?

            While it is true that some become saints in situations of persecution, war, and disease, God did not intend us for suffering.  He is not the author of evil, and we should not want difficult circumstances for ourselves or others.  Instead, we pray for situations favorable to the flourishing of the Church and of every human being.  No, good times are not the same as the fullness of the Kingdom, but every good thing is the work of God and provides at least a faint glimpse of heavenly glory for which we were created.  Christ has come to heal and restore our fallen selves such that we will be able recognize our blessings for what they are and to offer them back to Him through a life of holiness.  We are then able to play our proper role in fashioning the world into an icon of the Kingdom, a foretaste of heavenly peace even now.  The Kingdom will not be completed through different arrangements of worldly politics and power, but by humanity united with divinity, drawn into personal union with Christ through the faithful witness of a Church whose life shines so brightly with eternal joy that the sick, poor, blind, and downtrodden will be drawn to Him like moths to a flame.

            Today begins a new year in the Church and presents us all with much a needed reminder that, if we claim to be Christians, we must live according to the new day that our Savior has brought to the world.  If we are truly united personally with the Lord, then our lives must manifest good news to the poor, sight for the blind, and liberty to the captives—no matter what kinds of poverty, blindness, and captivity they experience.  We must become living witnesses that something new and holy has begun upon the earth, that God’s reign has truly dawned, and is good news for everyone.  But if we are so pathetically weak from the ravages of sin, if we are blinded spiritually or totally enslaved by our passions, we will hardly be in a position to bear witness to others of the new life of the Kingdom.  If we are not living proof that a new era has begun in which death is slain and evil is vanquished, then we will have nothing to offer the world in either word or deed.  Why should anyone believe that something new has begun if we keep living according to the old standards of the corrupt world?

            At this point, it is easy for us all to despair because we know that we are not yet fully healed from the ravages of sin; we know that we do not yet have perfect sight and remain shackled by our self-centered desires and addictions in many ways.  Here we must be brutally honest that God’s Kingdom has yet to come in its fullness in our own lives.  That is not His fault, of course, but ours.  And no matter how faithful we may be, we still await the great mystery of our Lord’s second coming, of His glorious return to judge the living and the dead and to establish the life of the world to come.  The question, however, is how we await that great future fulfillment as people who have much room to grow in holiness.  In other words, what kind of life is appropriate for those who know that our only hope is the mercy of the Lord?

            Well, it is certainly not a life characterized by despair.  It is certainly not a life of abandoning the way of discipleship because we stumble and fall.  It is certainly not a life so filled with pride that we refuse to persevere along a path where we are in constant need of the Savior’s healing and help.  No, we have not yet arrived; but our only hope of growing in union with Christ is to follow Him as best we can, gratefully accepting whatever glimpses of the new life of the Kingdom we have the spiritual strength to see.  In Him, a bright new day has begun and all God’s promises have been fulfilled.  He is infinitely holy, but we all have a long way to go.

            So let us all use the new church year as a time to receive as fully as we can the good news He has proclaimed, to participate as much as we can in the freedom from sin that He has brought to humanity, and to open the eyes of our souls as fully as possible to the One Who brings sight to the blind.  And as we do so, let us show His mercy to others, treating them with love, forgiveness, and generosity in ways that demonstrate that something new really has begun in Jesus Christ, Who wants all to be saved, to come to the knowledge of the truth, and to share in the great blessings of His Kingdom. 

The Cappadocian Fathers on Almsgiving and Fasting

The Cappadocian Fathers on Almsgiving and Fasting

by Rev. Fr. Philip LeMasters | August 19, 2013

Not only a prominent theme in the Bible, concern for the poor is a common point of emphasis in the writings of the Fathers of the Church, and the Cappadocian Fathers—St. Basil the Great, St. Gregory the Theologian and St. Gregory of Nyssa—are no exception.

Consider, for example, the teaching of St. Basil the Great:

“When someone strips a man of his clothes we call him a thief. And one who might clothe the naked and does not —should you not be given the same name? The bread in your board belongs to the hungry; the cloak in your wardrobe belongs to the naked, the shoes you let rot belong to the barefoot; the money in your vaults belongs to the destitute. All these you might help and do not—to all these you are doing wrong.”

St. Basil’s exhortation cuts to the quick of the situation of many Orthodox believers, as well as others, in North America. Though we did not steal our money and possessions from others, we have more than we need. When that is the case, we have an obligation to share from our overabundance with those who lack basic necessities. If we fail to do so, we incur the guilt of a thief. Indeed, we have a greater guilt, for we have ignored the needs of the Lord Jesus, Who identified Himself with “the least of these.”

Likewise, according to James Thornton, St. Gregory the Theologian understood charity as “an absolute obligation for all Christians.” In St. Gregory’s own words:

“[N]ow if following Paul and Christ Himself, we have to maintain that charity is the first and greatest of all commandments, the sum of all the laws and prophets, I suggest that the main part of charity is the love for the poor and mercy and compassion for our fellow brethren.” He admits to being “frightened by the possibility of being numbered among the goats on the left hand of the Sovereign Judge … not … because they have done something forbidden; nothing of the sort attracts condemnation on them, except their having failed to care for Christ Himself in the person of the poor.”

Appealing directly to the gospels, St. Gregory stressesthe urgency of ministry to the poor:

[W]hile there is yet time, visit Christ in his sickness, let us give to Christ to eat, let us clothe Christ in his nakedness, let us do honor to Christ, and not only at table, [or] with precious ointments [or] in his tomb [or] with gold, frankincense and myrrh, … but let us give him this honor in his needy ones, in those who lie on the ground before us this day…

Furthermore, St. Gregory of Nyssa teaches that fasting is “an extension of Christ’s requirement to give alms” and should turn us away from a host of passions. His exhortations on the topic are worth quoting at length:

There is a kind of fasting which is not bodily, a spiritual self-discipline which affects the soul; this abstinence [is] from evil, and it was as a means to this that our abstinence from food was prescribed. Therefore I say to you: Fast from evil-doing, discipline yourselves from covetousness, abstain from unjust profits, starve the greed of mammon, keep in your houses no snatched or stolen treasure. For what use is it to touch no meat and to wound your brother by evil-doing? What advantage is it to forgo what is your own and to seize unjustly what is the poor’s? What piety is it to drink water and thirst for blood, weaving treachery in the wickedness of your own heart? Judas himself fasted with the eleven, but since he did not curb his love of money, his fasting availed him nothing to salvation…

St. Gregory calls Christians to a genuine fast:

“Loosen every bond of injustice, undo the knots of covenants made by force. Break your bread to the hungry; bring the poor and homeless into your house. When you see the naked, cover him; and despise not your own flesh.” The Lord has given His dignity to the poor, who “are treasurers of the good things that we look for, the keepers of the gates of the kingdom, opening them to the merciful and shutting them on the harsh and uncharitable… [T]he Lord beholds what is done towards them, and every deed cries louder than a herald to Him who searches all hearts.”

When we imitate God’s generosity by giving to the poor, St. Gregory says elsewhere, we grow in the divine qualities of “mercy and kindness,” which “inhabit a person, divinize him and stamp him with imitation of the good in order to bring to life our original, immortal image which transcends conception.”

Saints Basil the Great, Gregory the Theologian and Gregory of Nyssa are held in extraordinarily high esteem in the Orthodox Church as the men who guided the Orthodox formulation of the doctrine of the Trinity in the fourth century. In this light, no one may dismiss their common call for generosity to the poor as a fundamental dimension of the life in Christ. Not an optional undertaking for those so inclined, turning away from our greed to care for the needy is a requirement of the Christian life.

They defined this requirement strictly, for “when the Cappadocians spoke of giving to the poor,” writes Justo Gonzalez, “they did not mean setting aside a small portion of one’s wealth for that purpose. They spoke of ridding oneself of all that was not strictly necessary.” Though they “retained some of their wealth,” these Fathers clearly put into practice what they preached, supporting “a large complex of buildings that provided shelter for travelers, medical care for the ill—especially those, such as lepers, whom society at large despised—food for the hungry and occupation for many who otherwise would be unemployed.” Though they did not literally give away everything they owned, they used their wealth generously, effectively and prudently to relieve the suffering of the poor, sick and needy, and thus showed the love of Christ.

Patristics scholar Susan R. Holman concludes that the Cappadocians “elevated” the poor “into the religious liturgy, that is, Christian practice and worship.” Their preaching raised people who were typically despised, rejected and thought to have no claim on anyone or anything, to the exalted status of members of Christ’s Body. Hence, those who encounter the poor encounter the Lord; and those who wish to find salvation will do so through a life characterized by generosity to those in need through both fasting and almsgiving.

Reflecting their shared Orthodox beliefs on the incarnation, the Cappadocians taught that the poor “hold a direct line of access to the highest realm of deity; their generate nature in no way limits this access and is in fact one of its most characteristic features.” In a faith that teaches that the Son of God became a human being with a real body, it should not be surprising that there is a profound spiritual significance to the unmet bodily needs of human beings.

“As the Cappadocians use traditional New Testament images to identify the poor with Christ,” Holman writes, “the body of the poor—in its most literal, mutable sense—gains social meaning. The rhetorical expression of this body gains a language and a voice of its own … as the body of the Logos.” It would be difficult to find a more radical transformation of the status of the poor than this one. Those thought to be “nobodies” by the world are now raised to the glory of the Body of Christ. We encounter and serve the Lord in them, and through this asceticism we ourselves—and our society—are transformed as well.

This essay is an adaptation of a section of Fr. Philip’s book The Goodness of God’s Creation (Salisbury, MA: Regina Orthodox Press, 2008).

 

ethikapolitika.org/2013/08/19/a-radical-transformation-of-the-status-of-the-poor-the-cappadocian-fathers-on-almsgiving-and-fasting/

Offering Loaves and Our Lives: Homily for the 8th Sunday After Pentecost and the Sunday After the Dormition of the Most Holy Theotokos in the Orthodox Church

            

             This Thursday we began celebrating a great feast of the Church, the Feast of the Dormition of Mary the Theotokos.    When we think of the Virgin Mary, we cannot help but marvel at the unique and glorious role that she plays in our salvation.  For the Son of God to humble Himself to the point of becoming a human being, He had to have a mother.   God entered into creation and became one of us through her.  She was truly the temple of the Lord in her miraculous pregnancy.  And Mary had the astounding role of raising Jesus Christ, of nursing, loving, and guiding Him as any mother does for a child.  She lived a life of great piety and purity all her days, and the tradition of the Church teaches that the Theotokos was a much loved and respected figure in the early Christian community in the years following Christ’s death, resurrection, and ascension into heaven.

The icon of the feast of the Dormition shows that Christ came with the angels to receive Mary’s soul upon her death.  All the other apostles were present, but St. Thomas did not arrive until three days after her burial.  When the tomb was opened so that he could see her one last time, Mary’s body was gone.  The first one to receive Christ had become the first one to share in His resurrection, to follow Him body and soul into eternal life.  Through Mary, Christ descended to earth.  And now through Christ, Mary has ascended to heaven.  And as she said when she appeared to the apostles the evening of that third day, “Rejoice, I am with you all the days of your lives.”

Our Lady the Theotokos is herself an icon of our salvation.  She models for us what it means to accept Christ and to love and serve Him.  Her death and ascension are reminders of our destiny, of our hope, for the fullness of eternal life in the Kingdom.  And now she is with the Lord in heaven, praying for us—for the Church and the entire world-- interceding with her Son on our behalf with the boldness of a mother—the same boldness that she demonstrated in asking Christ’s to help with the shortage of wine at the wedding in Cana of Galilee.  That was His first miracle in John’s gospel, and He did it upon the request of His mother, even as He continues to respond to her prayers.  

No, we cannot fully understand the mystery of the eternal Son of God having a human mother or of their relationship to one another.  For these amazing truths are part of the great miracle of the Incarnation:  that Christ really did become one of us in order to make us partakers of the divine nature, in order to bring us into His eternal life.  And Mary the Theotokos is the prime example of one who is truly united with Christ, who shines with His holiness.  Throughout her life, she led the way in loving and serving Christ; and upon her death, she led the way into the life of the Kingdom.    

            If we want to follow her example of participating so fully in the life of God, we need to take our Lord’s miraculous feeding of the Five Thousand as a model for our lives.  A hungry multitude needed to be fed and all that the disciples could collect were five loaves and two fish.  That was not very much, but it was all that they had and they offered it to the Savior for Him to bless.  He did so and there was so much food that twelve basketsful were left over.

            Of course, this story reminds us of the Last Supper, when Christ took bread and blessed, broke, and gave it back to His disciples as His own Body.  And now He does something similar, taking a humble offering and miraculously making it more than it would have otherwise been. 

            Because of her prominence in our faith, we sometimes forget how humble, obscure, and seemingly unimportant the Theotokos was in her time and place.  Even though she grew up in the Temple, she was just a young girl without much standing or significance in her society.  She was an unmarried virgin when the Archangel Gabriel was sent to convey the news that she was to become the mother of the Messiah.  She did not fit with the conventional expectations for women to become wives and mothers and to play their role in the ongoing life of the Jewish people.  Her miraculous pregnancy was viewed as a scandal and she could have easily been killed as a result.

            During our Lord’s earthly ministry, there must have been those who looked down upon her as the mother of that crazy rabbi who threatened the established religious order.  Since Christ was crucified as a traitor and a blasphemer, she was surely guilty by association in the eyes of many.  Her life was extraordinarily difficult and she was never one of the powerful and privileged of her society.

            But what the Theotokos did do in her humility, obscurity, and weakness was to say “yes” to God with every ounce of her being.  She obeyed the Lord without reservation, offering every dimension of her life to Him with a pure heart.  And through her complete obedience, the Son of God became a human being and salvation has come to the world.  Mary is not a goddess, but a human being.  She also needed a Savior, for she could not conquer death or unite humanity and divinity by her own power.  And her offering of herself to Him plays a crucial role in our salvation.

            As we continue to celebrate the Dormition of the Theotokos, we are called to follow her example of making a full offering of our lives to the Lord.  It does not matter that her life circumstances are different from ours or that most of us have had years or decades of practice in saying “no” to God’s will in various ways.  All that we need to do is to say “yes” as best we can, offering who we are in obedience to our Lord and trusting that He will use us according to His will in ways that far exceed what we could have accomplished on our own.

            We know from the gospels that Christ’s disciples did not fully understand Him and very often fell short of His expectations for them.   The Savior did not reject them, however, and in the Feeding of the Five Thousand used their pathetically small offering to meet the needs of others in a miraculous way as a sign of the Kingdom. 

            The same Lord who worked that miracle took His human nature from an obscure Jewish virgin through a set of circumstances that was unbelievable by normal human ways of thinking.  Likewise, it is crazy to say that five loaves and two fish could feed thousands of people with a lot left over.  But ours is a faith that is not controlled by worldly ways of thinking, by what is normal and conventional in the corrupt existence to which we have all become too accustomed.  For the Lord Who conquered death through a cross and an empty tomb invites us all to participate fully in a Kingdom not of this world by offering ourselves to Him like the loaves of bread we bake for the Divine Liturgy. 

            In the normal course of things, bread is simply bread.  But by the power of the Holy Spirit, the bread offered in the Liturgy becomes the risen and ascended Body of Christ, “the medicine of immortality” that nourishes us for eternal life.  No, we cannot transform bread by our own power, but someone has to bake it and someone has to offer it.

            You and I are just like that bread. We have to become an offering of humble obedience, as did the Theotokos.  If we follow her example, there is no telling what God will do with us, no limit to what He will accomplish through us.  So let us continue celebrating the Dormition of the Theotokos by becoming more like her as we freely obey Christ and welcome Him into our lives by offering ourselves to Him. If we do so, we will follow our Lord and His Mother into the brilliant glory of the Kingdom of God.