The Greatest Test of our Souls is Whether We Love our Enemies: Homily for the Seventeenth Sunday After Pentecost and the Second Sunday of Luke in the Orthodox Church

 

2 Cor. 6:16-7:1; Luke 6:31-36

    One of the great challenges that many of us face in embracing Orthodox Christianity is getting over some form of religious legalism, which is the belief that how we relate to God is primarily a matter of obeying rules that govern how we behave. Of course, how we treat people every day is a vital dimension of faithfulness to Christ, Who intensified the requirements of the Old Testament commandments, for example, against murder and adultery in the Sermon on the Mount. He did so, however, not by lengthening the list of bad things that good people should not do. Instead, He went to the very heart of the matter: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” (Matt. 5:8)

    The laws of the Old Testament were necessary to make clear to the Hebrew people the basics of how they were to act as those in a covenantal relation with God. Jesus Christ is not simply a religious teacher, but truly the God-Man in Whom the ancient promises, laws, and prophecies are fulfilled. He is a Person in Whose life we share as those who are in communion with Him as living members of His Body, the Church. The Church is the bride of Christ and we must live as those in a “one flesh” union with Him in which we become “partakers of the divine nature” by grace.

    It is only in this context that we can understand our Lord’s teaching in today’s gospel teaching: “But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for He is kind to the ungrateful and the selfish. Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful.” In this passage from the gospel according to Luke, Christ does not rest content with calling His followers to limit their vengeance to “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” even though that Old Testament principle had placed needed restraint on vengeance. (Matt. 5:38) He did not affirm the common attitude of the time, “Love your neighbor and hate your enemy,” an attitude that unfortunately remains with us today in so many ways. (Matt. 5:43) Instead, the Savior called His followers to be united with Him from the depths of their hearts to the point that they embodied the divine mercy, loving their enemies like God, Who cares for “the ungrateful and the selfish.”

    To become a person so radiant with the love of Christ that we convey His love even to people we do not like and who do not like us is obviously not a matter of meeting a basic legal standard of outward behavior. To love our enemies as He loves us requires our deep spiritual transformation and healing as living icons of God. It is not enough to be kind to our friends, to those we think will return our good will, or to those with whom we have something in common according to conventional social standards. It is not enough simply to restrain ourselves from abusing our enemies or even to go through the motions of being decent toward them. No, we must become brilliant with the gracious divine energies to the point that we convey the merciful love of Christ to everyone.

    If we approach this sublime calling merely as a matter of obeying a religious law, we will either fall into despair or delusion about our ability to fulfill it. The vocation to become like God in mercy and holiness is obviously something we cannot accomplish by willpower or behavior modification alone. And if we think we have already done so, then we have become blinded by spiritual pride to the point that we do not see ourselves clearly at all. The fact that we seem inevitably to fall short of loving our neighbors, and especially our enemies, as ourselves indicates that we have a truly eternal vocation that we should never think that we have completed. The struggle that we all have in treating other people, especially our enemies, as we would like to be treated, reveals that we have not yet embraced fully the Lord’s gracious healing of our souls. St. Silouan the Athonite saw the love of enemies as a clear sign of the presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives. He taught that when the soul “grows humble, the Lord gives her His grace, and then she prays for her enemies as for herself, and sheds scalding tears for the whole world.” These words reveal our need for ongoing repentance as we turn away from fueling the passions that make it so appealing to condemn others and turn humbly toward cooperating with the Lord’s gracious healing of our souls. That is the only way for us to share so fully in the life of Christ that we embody His boundless mercy.

    Today’s epistle reading reinforces the profundity of this spiritual calling, for St. Paul addresses the terribly confused and compromised Gentile Christian of Corinth as “the temple of the living God.” The Corinthians were largely converts from paganism who had to be corrected at every turn from their tendency to fall back into their pagan ways of worshiping false gods and engaging in gross sexual immorality. St. Paul quotes Hebrew prophets who admonished the Jews to be entirely separate from the corrupt ways of other peoples. What is so shocking is that he applied that instruction to the Gentile Christians of Corinth. Those who had been hated enemies for their immorality and paganism are now themselves “the temple of the living God” in Jesus Christ. They are His people, His sons and daughters, to whom the promises of Abraham have been extended through faith. Because of this great dignity, St. Paul tells them to be clean “from every defilement of body and spirit, and make holiness perfect in the fear of God.”

    While the apostle did provide them with clear instructions on how to live as Christians, Paul was anything but a legalist who thought that the following a code of behavior had the power to heal the soul. As he wrote to the Ephesians, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Eph. 2:8-10) Neither Jew nor Gentile could earn salvation by their own merit, but by embracing the gracious healing of the soul through faith in Christ. Such gracious healing is not passive or abstract but participatory and transformative, for we are all fellow workers with God who must “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure.” (Philipp. 2:12-13)

    If we are to find the healing of our souls, we must struggle to do what we can each day to treat those we are most inclined to disregard and condemn as we would like them to treat us. We must take every opportunity to convey the mercy we have received from Christ to our neighbors, especially those we consider our enemies. When we fail to do so, we must use our weakness to fuel our humility before the Lord and our sense of unworthiness to judge anyone else. We must pray, fast, give to the needy, and mindfully reject the nonsense in our own minds, and in all factions of our culture today, that would encourage us to treat anyone as anything less than a living icon of God. As hard as it is to accept, whether we are sharing in the life of Christ is most clearly revealed in how we treat those we find it hardest to love. This is not a matter of legalism, but of whether we are acquiring the purity of heart necessary to see God, especially as He is present to us each day of our lives in those we are least inclined to see as beloved neighbors. That is the ultimate test of whether we are making “holiness perfect in the fear of God.”

The Patient Obedience of Letting Down our Nets: Homily for the First Sunday of Luke in the Orthodox Church

 

Luke 5:1-11

           

Many people today scroll quickly through the many options they have in choosing how to identify themselves and live their lives.  It easier than ever before to try out all kinds of choices and to disregard those that we do not find immediately appealing or fulfilling.  Not only has our society formed us as consumers who want our immediate preferences satisfied, the digital age has made it even easier to flit from this to that whenever we experience just a hint of boredom, frustration, or disappointment. In such a culture, we are all at risk of forming habits that compromise our faithfulness to the way of Christ, which requires steadfast commitment and ongoing struggle as we persist in taking up our crosses each day of our lives. 

 The Church directs our attention today to two saints who provide powerful examples of what patient, selfless commitment to the Lord looks like.  St. Thekla is remembered as a Great Martyr and has the title of “Equal to the Apostles” because she accompanied St. Paul in founding churches and brought many to Christ through her teaching and example.  Converted at the age of eighteen by St. Paul’s preaching, she is remembered as the first female martyr because of her faithfulness throughout many extraordinary sufferings, ranging from rejection by her family to trials of fire, wild beasts, and physical assault.  The Lord delivered her from them all, and she lived her last years in prayer and solitude, peacefully completing her earthly journey at the age of 90.      

 We also remember today St. Silouan, a monk on Mt. Athos.   He had received the gift of unceasing prayer and knew great spiritual peace, but then endured fifteen years of deep spiritual struggle which prepared him to receive the Lord’s teaching: “Keep your mind in hell and do not despair.”  For the next fifteen years, he did precisely that, confronting and experiencing the brokenness and sickness of his soul that separated him from sharing fully in the life of Christ. Only then did he find healing for his passions.   

 Both of these saints are shining examples of humble persistence in faithfulness to the Lord, regardless of the personal challenges and sufferings involved.  Both could have easily abandoned their callings when the going got rough and did not gratify their passions or preferences.  No one forced St. Thekla to refuse to renounce Christ in the face of lethal persecution.  No one forced St. Silouan to undergo such bitter spiritual struggles.  But when such trials came, both saints kept taking up their crosses for decades and trusting that the Savior would not abandon them. They both endured so much in order to place loyalty to Christ above all else. 

 In this regard, they have something in common with Sts. Peter, James, and John in today’s gospel reading.  They were professional fishermen who had worked all night and caught nothing.  They knew from experience that it made sense to wash their nets, go home, and try again tomorrow.  But the Lord said, “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.”  Peter’s answer showed his frustration: “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing!  But at Your word I will let down the nets.”  When they did so, they caught so many fish that their nets broke and their boats began to sink.  This unlikely and amazing scene helped Peter catch a glimpse of the state of his soul, for he said to Christ, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.”  The Savior responded, “Do not be afraid; henceforth you will be catching men.” Then Peter, James, and John left their boats and nets behind as they became His disciples.

             Peter was the head disciple, but he struggled mightily in faith.  He denied the Lord three times before His crucifixion and then ran away in fear.  He had earlier heard the stinging rebuke, “Get behind me, Satan!,” when he had rejected the message that Christ would be killed and rise from the dead. After His resurrection, the Lord restored Peter by asking him three times if he loved Him and commanding him to “feed My sheep” in fulfilling his ministry. (Jn. 21: 15-17) Peter became the first bishop of the Church in Antioch and in Rome, where he made the ultimate witness for the Savior as a martyr.  At many points in his discipleship, he must have been as frustrated as a fisherman who had worked all night and caught nothing.  He was obviously tempted to do something other than following a Lord Who was lifted up upon the Cross.  But despite his many struggles, Peter kept letting down his nets and finding that the Lord continued to call and work through him, despite his imperfections and failings.  That is how he also became a great saint.    

             If want to pursue the Christian life with integrity, then we must follow the example of Sts. Peter, Thekla, and Silouan in persistently obeying our Lord’s command.  We must “let down our nets” in obedience by doing that which will open our souls to receive His healing mercy. That is not something to be tried once and then abandoned if we do not get the results that we want.  That is not something to refuse to do because it would be easier in the moment to do whatever we would prefer instead.  It is, however, something which must become a settled habit in our lives, a stable dimension of our character, as those who dare to identify ourselves as followers of Christ.

           We must be prepared, however, for our faltering steps of obedience to open the eyes of our souls to the truth about where we stand before Him.  After letting down his nets and catching that great haul of fish, Peter gained the spiritual clarity to know his unworthiness: “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.”  His reaction bears some similarity to St. Silouan’s teaching: “Keep your mind in hell and do not despair.”  When we attempt even the smallest act of obedience, we open our darkened souls to behold the brilliant light of Christ.  The darkness in our hearts will then become all the more evident to us. Instead of being discouraged that we are more aware of our spiritual weakness, we must then call all the more for the Lord’s mercy as we struggle to remain on the path to the Kingdom. 

 We all have the experience of falling into our familiar sins again and again.  Instead of being disheartened to the point that we no longer struggle against them or despair of ever finding healing, or even give up completely on the Christian life, we must keep letting down our nets in obedience as we mindfully seek to redirect the desires of our hearts toward God.  Instead of despairing that there is no hope, we must humbly accept the truth about our spiritual state that is revealed by our weakness before our besetting sins.  While making no excuses for ourselves, we must trust that our ongoing battles are necessary for us to receive Christ’s healing.  We may not be in an arena with wild animals like St. Thekla, but we all face the arena of our passions, which are every bit as fierce.  St. Silouan wrestled spiritually for decades and never gave up.  We must do the same as we experience in our hearts the tension between our current brokenness and the holiness to which the Savior calls us.

 Looking to the example of the great saints we commemorate today, as well as to the model of those holy fishermen, let us repudiate the superficial, self-centered tendencies celebrated by our culture and undertake the daily struggle of obedience to Christ.  That means letting down our nets in obedience at every opportunity as we cry out for His merciful healing of our souls.  That is the holy habit that we must all cultivate if we want to become worthy disciples of the Savior.

 

 

   

 

           

THE ORTHODOX CHURCH, JUST-WAR THEORY, AND THE INVASION OF UKRAINE

 The centrality of peace to the worship and spiritual vision of Eastern Orthodox Christianity magnifies the tragedy of the invasion of Ukraine.  Petitions for peace abound in Orthodox services, including for deliverance from “the sword, foreign invasion, and civil war.” The Church prays regularly for “the peace of the whole world,” as well as for the liberation of captives and for people “in exile, in harsh labor, and…in every kind of affliction, necessity, or distress.”  Every Sunday service includes a petition for God to grant peace “to all civil authorities, to our armed forces, and to all Your people.” 

Going to war may be tragically necessary at times to defend one’s neighbors and society against invasion or other forms of unwarranted assault, and the church does not prohibit laypeople from taking up arms in obedience to lawful authorities. Some Orthodox saints were soldiers, but their military prowess did not make them examples of holiness.  Many served in the pagan Roman Empire and accepted torture and execution rather than worship other gods.  A fourth-century church rule recommends that soldiers who kill in war abstain from receiving communion for three years.  It serves as a reminder that taking life under any circumstances falls short of the peaceable way of Jesus Christ. 

The Byzantine Empire and Czarist Russia went to war many times with the blessing of the Church’s leaders.  Nonetheless, Orthodoxy does not have a crusade or holy war ethic and cautions that shedding blood always risks grave spiritual and moral harm to those involved. The absence of an explicit just-war theory in Eastern Christianity is a sign that waging war inevitably results in killing persons who bear God’s image and is never unambiguously good. Even high levels of moral and legal restraint fail to prevent the barbarity of organized mass slaughter.  

The Assembly of Bishops of the Orthodox jurisdictions of the United States issued a statement on the invasion of Ukraine which, while not invoking the categories of just-war theory, resonates with them. The bishops pray that “peace and justice may be restored” in Ukraine and urge “all parties and all people to refrain from further aggression, withdraw…all weapons and troops from sovereign lands, and…to pursue de-escalation and the restoration of peace through dialogue and mutual respect.” Dialogue between law-abiding nations, not ongoing aggression, is the way to peace. The bishops urge authorities to take practical steps to end the conflict.  They avoid pious platitudes even as they call for an end to the war as a sign of the peace for which the church prays.

While warring nations have often distorted just-war theory in order to obscure their violations of human rights and moral standards, its categories provide a needed language for criticizing wars of aggression fought for illusory reasons. They help to describe the illegality of morally depraved acts, such as the indiscriminate destruction of population centers or the use of rape as a means of terror. The categories of just-war theory clarify how rulers, armies, and particular soldiers fall short of basic levels of ethical restraint in the conduct of warfare. They provide resources for calling nations to avoid the worst abuses of the use of force. Even the best observance of such standards will not come close to enacting the perfect peace for which Orthodox Christians pray or heal persons broken by tragic wounds of violence. Nonetheless, those concerned with the wellbeing of their neighbors should appreciate them as tools for urging worldly powers not to wage war in a fashion contrary to the accepted standards of the international community. 

While it would be naïve to think that arguments from religious leaders will stop unnecessary and barbaric wars from occurring, those who pray for peace have an obligation to state clearly the ways in which such wars are morally unacceptable. The standards for a just war provide imperfect points of contact between Orthodoxy’s vision of peace and the broken realities of the world as we know it. Until the perfect peace of God’s kingdom comes, they will remain tragically necessary for calling nations to avoid the most depraved forms of organized mass slaughter, which is what war remains.  

This article was supported by Fr. Philip's participation as Senior Fellow in the “Orthodoxy and Human Rights” project, sponsored by Fordham University’s Orthodox Christian Studies Center, and generously funded by the Henry Luce Foundation and Leadership 100.  It was originally published here:  The Orthodox Church, Just-War Theory, and the Invasion of Ukraine | Spirit Of Abilene

CHRISTIAN POLITICAL ACTIVISM AND DISCIPLESHIP TO JESUS ARE VERY DIFFERENT UNDERTAKINGS

          Those who promote Christian political agendas must take care in order to avoid damaging their souls and distorting their witness to Jesus Christ. The practices and virtues associated with the quest for earthly power, even for the best of ends, are hardly those of the Beatitudes.  Christ called his followers to acquire purity of heart and love their enemies.  He instructed them not to rest content with a code of moral behavior, but to find healing from the disordered desires at the root of evils as grave as murder and adultery. 

          People find strength to pursue the life of discipleship through their participation in churches, families, and other groupings that form them to fulfill callings inevitably at odds with dominant social trends in one way or another. Doing so requires the deep personal struggle of taking up the cross in relation to our own weaknesses and temptations.  

          To focus on gaining political power in order to enact legal codes that regulate the behavior of fellow citizens is a very different undertaking.  It is a project that the Lord and the twelve disciples did not pursue.  To identify the way of Christ as mere obedience to legally imposed norms is to take discipleship out of its necessary context, watering it down to the type of outward observance advocated by the Pharisees whom he so strongly criticized.  When purity of heart, love for enemies, and freedom from anger are displaced by the need to do whatever it takes to coerce others through political force, the way of the hypocritical Pharisee threatens to supplant the way of the Savior who called for turning the other cheek.  While governments can and must impose regulations on the behavior of people by force, they cannot heal the soul.    

          Christ taught that his followers are to be a city on a hill, brilliantly lit and drawing others to the blessedness of God’s reign.  The genuine political witness of Christians requires that their communities, personal lives, and public statements convey the teaching and character of their Lord, especially in relation to those they consider their enemies and to “the least of these,” such as prisoners, the homeless, and immigrants.  Actions and words which give the impression that Christianity is chiefly about conventional political support of or opposition to this or that agenda risk distorting the proclamation of the gospel into just another slogan for “our side” to win its battle against rivals for earthly power. 

          Before making pronouncements condemning others, Christians should remember what Christ said about taking the plank out of one’s own eye before attempting to take the speck out of someone else’s.  Those whose horizons extend no further than the next election or battle in a culture war will never think in such terms, but those who claim to follow a Lord whose kingdom is not of this world must do so in order to have even a mustard seed’s worth of spiritual integrity.  

          Christians may certainly enter into the political fray toward the end of promoting public policies that do better rather than worse in serving the common good of their neighbors and promoting the peace of the world, but they must do so self-critically and with a chastened sense of realism. The points of tension between the purity of heart, love for enemies, and repudiation of anger that the Lord taught and the inevitable corruptions of politics are glaring.  It is hard to see how there can be any unambiguously Christian political agenda, for even the best arrangements of competing interests in the world as we know it fall short of the blessed reign proclaimed by Christ and are sustained by practices that contradict his teachings in one way or another.  

          Strong doses of realism and repentance are necessary to help activists, and even average voters, keep their eyes on the prize of their ultimate allegiance to a Lord with a very different agenda. At the very least, those who devote their time and energy to electoral politics must guard their hearts from passions that threaten to compromise both their personal spiritual integrity and their public witness to the Savior who rejected the temptation to become an earthly ruler.  Otherwise, they risk becoming the kind of people Christ so strongly criticized:  self-righteous hypocrites for whom religion is primarily a tool to gain power over others.  Regardless of how noble any political goal may be, it is not worth damaging one’s spiritual health and distorting the public witness of the Christian faith.  

Originally posted on the Spirit of Abilene blog:  https://spiritofabilene.com/2023/07/29/christian-political-activism-and-discipleship-to-jesus-are-very-different-undertakings.

Taking Up the Cross is Very Different from Trying to Use the Cross to Get What We Want: 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 of viewing our Lord’s Cross as merely a religious artifact that reminds us of what happened long ago. Through His Self-Offering on the Cross, Christ has conquered death and brought salvation to the world.  But in order for us to share personally in His fulfillment of the human person as a living icon of God, we must take up our own crosses, deny ourselves, and follow Him.  If we refuse to do that, then we show that we are ashamed of our Lord and want no part in Him or His Kingdom.

            Peter was in precisely such a state of refusal when he tried to explain to Christ that dying on the Cross had nothing to do with being the Messiah.  That is when the Lord famously said to Peter, “Get behind Me, Satan! For you are not mindful of the things of God, but the things of men.”  That is the context for today’s gospel passage as Christ teaches that following Him is not a way to gain anything at all according to the standards of this world, but a calling to offer ourselves without reservation.  We must lose our lives for Christ and His Gospel in order to share in His victory over death.   

            The calling to take up our crosses stands in stark contrast to the persistent temptation to exalt ourselves in the Name of the Lord.  Across the centuries to the present day, some have tried to use the Cross to gain earthly power by identifying some version of an earthly kingdom with our Lord’s heavenly reign.  Others have tried to use the Cross as a way to justify their religious or moral superiority over their neighbors.  The problem is not so much in the particulars of how anyone has used the Cross so much as in the very idea of using it, of making it an instrument for achieving anything at all in this world.  Our Lord’s Cross calls us to lose our lives as we offer ourselves in union with His great Self-Offering, not to serve or glorify ourselves in any way.     

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 who would have required the same of Gentile converts.  Over against trust in religious legalism, 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 did not simply have good thoughts or warm feelings about the Cross, but endured many struggles and difficulties out of faithfulness to the Lord.  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.  Paul meant that 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 own passions and the brokenness of our world of corruption, the struggle for faithfulness inevitably requires suffering, but not as though pain were somehow pleasing to God in and of itself.  Such suffering results from the inevitable tension we experience in the struggle to offer ourselves fully to Christ. Truly taking up our crosses means embracing the difficult battle each day as we reject all that would keep us from doing precisely that, including especially the inclinations of our own hearts.

  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.  Many problems and pains come upon us without our asking for them in this life, even to the point of death, 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 losses, obstacles, and disappointments.  We can refuse to offer our struggles to Christ and instead allow them to fuel our passions, destroy our faith, and corrupt our relationships with others.   No one can keep us from doing so, for freedom is an intrinsic dimension of being in God’s image as human persons. 

Only we can unite ourselves to Christ in His Great Self-Offering for the salvation of the world. Regardless of the circumstances, we may always use our freedom to take up our crosses and refuse to fall into despair, for any instance of struggle, pain, disappointment, or suffering provides an opportunity to deny ourselves and follow our 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 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.  It often does not take much at all to set us off 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 wished he would die. (Jonah 4:5-11)   Other times we face circumstances so grave that they call us into question from the depths of our souls and strongly tempt us to fall into despair about the meaning and purpose of our lives.  Whether in matters small or great, there is no lack of opportunity to take up our crosses as we struggle to find healing for our inflamed passions. 

Doing so usually does not require anything particularly dramatic or extraordinary.  It is normally a matter of focusing on the basic practices 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, repentance, and serving our neighbors, the less time and energy we will have for stirring up and embracing the impassioned thoughts that lead to sinful actions.  The constant struggle to undertake this way of life is at the very heart of taking up our crosses, denying ourselves, and following Christ. 

We must also remain on guard against all the forms of idolatry that tempt us to gain the world at the expense of our souls.  The Lord rejected the temptation to repudiate the Cross for the sake of gaining earthly power and establishing a political kingdom.  We must likewise refuse to allow loyalty to any worldly agenda or group to obscure the demands of faithfulness to the way of Christ. That is true in matters seemingly large and small, ranging from our opinions about world affairs to how we treat our friends, neighbors, and family members.  We cannot serve two masters in any dimension of our lives.  Those who try to do so will risk losing their own souls in a vain effort to gain the world. The message of the Cross remains foolishness to those who make any scheme for success in this world their false god, no matter what it may be.  If we become so enamored with anything that we refuse to place faithfulness to Christ first in our lives, we will show by our actions that we are ashamed of our Lord and His Cross.  

In order to take up our crosses, we must choose to embrace the struggle of dying to our vain illusions about ourselves and our world.  Our hope is not in spiritual or moral perfection acquired merely by our own willpower, 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 as we persistently offer ourselves to Him in humble faith, no matter what challenges and pains life brings us.  That is how we will die to the corrupting power of sin and enter into the blessedness of His Kingdom, which remains not of this world.  The only way to truly elevate the Holy Cross is by denying ourselves and taking up our own crosses to follow the Savior each day of our lives.  

 

 

 

The Martyrdom of Not Defining Ourselves by Our Passions and Sins: Homily for the Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost and the Sixth Sunday of Luke in the Orthodox Church

2 Corinthians 9:6-11; Luke 8:26-39

             A great deal is at stake in how we understand ourselves.  How others see us is up to them, but the self-definitions that we accept will shape us all profoundly.  If we identify ourselves in ways that obscure what it means to be a human person in God’s image and likeness, our spiritual vision will be out of focus.  But if our eyes are opened to the truth, we will be able to see clearly as we pursue the healing of our souls.

The wretched man in today’s gospel lesson identified himself to Christ as “Legion” because so many demons tormented him that he had lost any sense of his true self.  He did not even live a recognizably human life, as he had dwelt alone and naked in a cemetery for a long time.  The Savior’s mercy for this fellow was so profound that He took the initiative in giving him his life back.  The transformation was so shocking that the people of the region asked Christ to leave, for they were profoundly disturbed to see the man “clothed and in his right mind.”  He understandably wanted to go away with the Lord, for it would have been quite difficult for people to learn to relate to him as a neighbor and not as a dreaded monster.  He must also have been embarrassed by his former state.  Christ refused, however, and told him to “Return to your home, and declare all that God has done for you.”  Surely, there could be no greater sign of the Lord’s saving power than the witness of someone so visibly restored to the dignity of a child of God.

We must resist the temptation to think that such an extraordinary account has little to do with us.  The Lord’s deliverance of the demon-possessed man is a sign of His healing mercy for all humanity.  The Son of God became a human person in our world of corruption in order to liberate us all from living naked among the tombs.  Our first parents stripped themselves of the divine glory through prideful disobedience; that is when we became enslaved to the fear of death, which is the wages of sin.  Instead of fulfilling their basic calling to become more like God in holiness, they looked for fulfillment in gratifying their self-centered desires.  Such passions easily distort our sense of what it means to be ourselves, for we tend to accept as our standard whatever seems to come naturally in our world of corruption.  We may not call ourselves “Legion,” but all too often we are not even aware of how our thoughts, desires, words, and deeds hinder us from embracing more fully our true identity as those called to become “partakers of the divine nature” by grace.  We will find our true selves only by uniting ourselves in holiness to Christ from the depths of our hearts, for He is the New Adam Who embodies what it means to be truly human in the divine image and likeness.

Doing so means that we must deliberately reject the temptation to define ourselves in terms of our passions, temptations, and sins.  It means that we must turn away from the idolatry of making a false god in our own image in order to justify ourselves in believing and living however we want.  What is functional in fulfilling our self-centered desires in this world of corruption has nothing in   common with what is necessary for gaining the spiritual clarity to embrace the restoration and fulfillment of our humanity in Christ.  As St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians, the one “who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly” and the one “who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.”  The more we unite ourselves to Christ in His great Self-Offering, the more fully open we will be to His healing of our souls.  Doing so requires the sacrifice of taking up our crosses as we die to the distortions of self that have become second nature to us.  Doing so requires a form of martyrdom in which we struggle to bear witness to the Savior’s victory over the power of sin and death in His glorious resurrection.  That is precisely what the formerly demon-possessed man did when, after his deliverance, he obeyed the Lord’s difficult instruction to “Return to your home, and declare all that God has done for you.”

Today we commemorate the Great Martyr Artemius, a Christian and a high-ranking military official serving under the Roman emperor Julian the Apostate.  When Artemius saw the torture of two Christian priests at the order of the pagan emperor, he boldly denounced Julian and told him, “Your death is near.” Julian then stripped Artemius of his military rank and had him brutally tortured.  The Lord appeared to Artemius in prison, healing him and strengthening him to endure further abuse before he was beheaded.  The wicked emperor Julian soon died while fighting the Persians, as the saint had foretold.

The Great Martyr Artemius knew that his identity was not as a servant of any empire or human ruler, but of the Lord.  He refused to allow attachment to power, success, or even life in this world to turn him away from fulfilling his vocation.  Like other martyrs, Saint Artemius was not simply a person of strong willpower, but someone so deeply united to Christ that he received divine strength to make the ultimate witness to the Savior’s victory over the very worst that the forces of evil can do.

Our paths to the Kingdom will probably be different from those of the martyrs, but the Savior empowers each of us to find the healing of our souls as we bear witness to His fulfillment of the human person in the divine image and likeness.  Christ does not call us to some vague spirituality that merely blesses people in fulfilling whatever desires they happen to have.  His Kingdom remains not of this world, even when we do our worst to distort religion into a tool for advancing the self-serving agenda of any group or individual, no matter how allegedly noble.  Until the coming fullness of the heavenly reign, there will be profound tension between the way of Christ and the way of the world.  He calls those who share in His life to find healing from corruption in all its forms, regardless of how strong our temptations may be to refuse to offer ourselves to Him fully. The journey to growth in holiness is never ending and goes to the very heart of us all.  Instead of trying to make it less demanding as we stumble along the way, we must continue pressing on as best we can, calling out humbly for the Lord’s mercy and strength as we become better living icons of His salvation.

The Christian life requires following the difficult path of taking up our crosses as we die to the stranglehold of the passions on our souls.  That is how we may all find liberation from the misery of being naked, alone, enslaved to the fear of death, and profoundly confused about our identity before God.  It is how we may stop diminishing ourselves according to the legion of our temptations and sins as we do the hard work of becoming more truly ourselves in Christ.  The martyrs refused to worship false gods and we must also, especially those that masquerade as being virtuous in the eyes of our culture.  They refused to let any attachments or inclinations keep them from making the ultimate witness to the Lord’s victory over the grave.  Their sufferings became their entryway into the blessedness of the heavenly kingdom. In the circumstances of our lives, we must do the same as we open even the darkest and more painful dimensions of our souls to the brilliant and healing light of Christ.  That is how we, like the man formerly called Legion, will find ourselves “sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in [our] right mind[s].”  That is how we will become our true selves in Him.

Transfigured Sight and Speech: Homily for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost and the Seventh Sunday of Matthew in the Orthodox Church

Romans 15:1-7; Matthew 9:27-35

          It has never been hard to find people who view Jesus Christ in a many different ways.  Some use His name as a curse word or otherwise mock Him.  Some make Him in their own image as an advocate of whatever agenda they prize most in life.  Some view Him as a teacher or prophet to be admired, but not as the Son of God to be worshiped. Today’s gospel reading presents Him in a radically different way as One Who restores sight to blind beggars and the ability to speak to a man who had been possessed by a demon. Christ is not simply a miracle worker, of course, but the Savior of the world Who, as St. Paul wrote, has welcomed us for the glory of God.

We will soon celebrate the feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord, when the spiritual eyes of Peter, James, and John were opened to behold Christ’s divine glory to the extent that human beings are able to do so.  The blind beggars in our gospel reading were Jews who asked for mercy from the Son of David, a Jewish term for the Messiah, who they believed to be a very righteous human being who could work miracles.  Even though their faith was far from perfect, as symbolized by their blindness, the Lord had mercy on them and restored their sight.  The Transfiguration displays the full meaning of this miracle, for the God-Man enables us not merely to see the things of this world, but to know His divine glory.  Like the beggars, the disciples were Jews who had expected a purely human Messiah, not the Son of God.  Though they did not understand Who He was until after His resurrection, they also received their sight from the Lord when their souls were flooded with the brilliant light of His divinity.

We recently began the Dormition Fast, which leads to the feast of the falling asleep in Christ of the Most Holy Theotokos on August 15.  Her life on earth ended, but three days after her burial the tomb was found to be empty, as she was the first to follow her Son into the heavenly kingdom as a whole person:  body, soul, and spirit.  During this period, we abstain from the richest and most satisfying foods and devote ourselves to intensified prayer because we want to become more like the Theotokos, the first and model Christian who received the Savior into her life in a unique way and stands as a shining example for us all.  If we want to behold the light of Christ from the depths of our souls, we must humble ourselves and become blind to the temptation to find the ultimate meaning and purpose of our lives anywhere other than in Him.

That is precisely what the Theotokos did by saying “Behold the handmaid of the Lord, let it be to me according to your word” in response to the message of the Archangel Gabriel that God had chosen her to be the virgin mother of His Son.  In that moment, she opened her life fully and completely to Him.  Despite seeing Christ rejected and killed, the Theotokos always remained faithful, refusing to abandon Him at His crucifixion and being one of the myrrh-bearing women who went to anoint His dead body.  She was the first to hear from the angel the news of resurrection, even as she was obviously the first to hear of His incarnation in her womb.  Especially during the Dormition Fast, we focus on becoming like her in spiritual vision.

In today’s gospel reading, the Lord also cast a demon out of a man and restored his ability to speak.  This fellow was a Gentile, which is why the people responded, “’Never was anything like this seen in Israel,’” while “the Pharisees said, ‘He casts out demons by the prince of demons.’” St. Paul made clear to the Christians in Rome, both Jewish and Gentile in heritage, that “together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.”  No longer enslaved to idolatry with their mouths unable to glorify God, Gentiles may know and glorify the Lord every bit as much as the descendants of Abraham, for the ancient promises extend to all who have faith in the Messiah.  The Holy Spirit has united the divided tongues of the tower of Babel such that people of all cultures and backgrounds may join together in the praise of God as members of the household of faith.

Sight and speech are both profoundly important human abilities.  Christ restored sight to many blind people and often used images of light, darkness, and vision to convey the good news of salvation.  The point was not simply to describe the importance of seeing things in this world, but ultimately to call us to know Him through union in holiness from the depths of our souls.  Precisely because she was so radiant with the divine light, the Theotokos could proclaim the prophetic words of the Magnificat, which begins:  “My soul magnifies the Lord; And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior; Because He has regarded the lowliness of His handmaid; For behold, henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.” She spoke truthfully in light of her spiritual clarity and experiential knowledge of God.

Except when we fall into hypocrisy, our words generally reveal the true state of our souls.  Perhaps that is why the Scriptures contain many warnings about the dangers associated with running our mouths.  We read in the Psalms, “Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth; keep the door of my lips.” (Ps. 141:3)   Christ taught that we will have to give an account for every idle word that we speak, “For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.”  (Matt. 12:36) It is not what goes into our mouths, but what comes out of them that defiles us. (Matt. 15:11)  As St. James wrote, the tongue is small, powerful, and very difficult to control: “It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.” (Jas. 3:6)  When we speak words of cursing, condemnation, and corruption, we reveal our spiritual blindness, our lack of full transparency before God.

Of course, we should monitor our speech as best we can, and it is better to keep our mouths shut when we have an evil thought about someone than to share it with them or others.     More fundamentally, however, we should see our wicked words as a symptom of the sickness of our souls.  In order to gain the spiritual integrity to speak only in ways that glorify God and bless others, the light of Christ must fill our hearts.  We must become radiant with the gracious divine energies if we are to speak in a way that manifests the holiness of God.

Let us use the Dormition Fast to become more like the Theotokos in receptivity to the Lord as we unite ourselves to Him in holiness.  We must be transfigured from the depths of our souls, as she is, if we are to gain the strength necessary to glorify God and bless our neighbors in all that we say and do.  That is why we must humble ourselves by fasting in order to gain strength to redirect our hearts from gratification of self-centered desire to their true fulfillment in God.  That is why we must become fully present before God in prayer each day as we open ourselves to His presence in our lives.  That is why we must focus on serving our neighbors and not on pleasing ourselves.  That is why we must confess and repent of sins that keep us wedded to the darkness.  By persistently orienting ourselves to God in this way, we will become more personally receptive to the gracious divine energies and gain the spiritual clarity to behold the glory of the Lord and to speak and act accordingly.  The Feast of Christ’s Transfiguration calls each of us to nothing less than to be transfigured in holiness and shine brilliantly by grace with the light of heaven. Let us look to the Theotokos as the greatest example of a human being doing precisely that.

Learning from the Example of Saint Timon and the Orthodox Christians of Syria: Homily for the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost and the Sixth Sunday of Matthew in the Orthodox Church

Romans 12:6-14; Matthew 9:1-8

          Today is “St. Timon Sunday” in our Diocese of Wichita and Mid-America, when we make an offering in support of our brothers and sisters in the Archdiocese of Bosra-Hauran in Syria. Under the guidance of His Eminence, Metropolitan Saba, the Archdiocese does all that it can to show the love of Christ to the victims of the brutal conflict of the last several years.  The support provided by our Diocese has helped to fund a medical clinic and a pharmacy, and to make possible future plans for a kindergarten, a youth camp, and a monastery. Tragically, hundreds of thousands have died from the violence and millions are refugees or internally displaced persons. The human cost of such devastation is beyond calculation.  Of course, we continue to pray in every service for Metropolitan Paul and Archbishop John, who were abducted in Syria in 2013.
We commemorate St. Timon today as one of the seventy apostles sent out by the Lord and one of the original deacons mentioned in Acts (Acts 6:5).  He was the first bishop of what is now the city of Bosra, and he died as a martyr for Christ.  He played a key role in evangelizing a region where our Lord Himself often ministered (Matt.4:25) and where St. Paul took refuge after he escaped from Damascus following his conversion. (Gal. 1:15-18)   Especially as Antiochian Orthodox Christians, we must give thanks for how St. Timon’s ministry enabled the Church to flourish in ways from which we benefit to this very day.  God used his work, along with that of so many generations of faithful Christians in Syria and elsewhere in the Middle East, to bring us into the fullness of the faith in the Orthodox Church.
In St. Timon’s ministry, as well as in the witness of Orthodox Christians in that part of the world across the centuries, we find a clear example of obedience to St. Paul’s teaching in today’s epistle reading:  “Rejoice in your hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints, practice hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.”  Since the rise of Islam in the 7^th century, Christians in the region have carried a heavy cross as a “tolerated” minority community typically enduring persistent discrimination mixed with periods of brutal oppression. Throughout history and in our own time, many Middle Eastern martyrs and confessors have refused to deny Christ, regardless of the cost.
The ministries of the Archdiocese of Bosra-Hauran extend benevolence to anyone in need, as is typical of philanthropic efforts of the Orthodox Church, such as International Orthodox Christian Charities (IOCC).  True Christians are not tribalistic and concerned only with the needs of people like them, either religiously or in other ways.   Even as God’s love extends to all, those who are truly in Christ will share His love with everyone, especially those they are inclined for whatever reason to view as enemies and strangers.   “Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them” is a difficult teaching to obey, but remains a fundamental characteristic of the Christian life in all times and places.
Instead of responding in kind to their persecutors, the Christians of the Middle East continue to show their enemies the love of Christ.  In this regard, our brothers and sisters in Syria provide a powerful example of following the Lord’s instruction to the paralyzed man in today’s gospel reading:  “Rise, take up your bed and go home.”  Christ’s restoration of the man’s ability to walk was a sign of His forgiveness of the man’s sins, of the healing of the corruption of his soul.  The Lord commanded this fellow to get up and move on with his life by taking steps that were probably difficult for someone used to being paralyzed.
It is easy for anyone, including Christians, to remain paralyzed by fear, hatred, and resentment against those who have wronged us.  In a fallen world in which Cain murdered his brother Abel, we find it strangely appealing to define ourselves over against those we consider “the other.”  Whether as particular people or members of groups, we so often find ways to justify treating them as the embodiment of evil while we pat ourselves on the back for our great virtue.  Since we each confess ourselves to be the chief of sinners in preparation to receive Communion, that attitude toward anyone is a sign of a spiritual disease for which we need healing.  The ministries of the Archdiocese of Bosra-Hauran, and more generally the witness of Christians in the Middle East, stand as clear examples of refusing to remain paralyzed by the corruptions of sin.  For instead of seeking vengeance for historic and contemporary wrongs, or at least ignoring the sufferings of those who are not part of the Christian community, they take difficult steps to love all their needy neighbors as Christ has loved them.  In doing so, they move forward in a life of holiness and provide a brilliant icon of the peaceable reconciliation of the Kingdom of God.  They take the steps they can to embrace the healing of the human person that the Savior has brought to the world.
It is possible, of course, to look at any large problem and to think that nothing we could do could possibly make much of a difference.  Part of the reason that we may think that way is our own pride, for we assume that only something really great and impressive is worthy of our attention.  That is also a way of excusing ourselves from the responsibility to rise up from our comfortable bed of spiritual weakness to take the faltering steps we are capable of toward the Kingdom of God.  The Christians in Rome to whom St. Paul wrote were not powerful, wealthy, or famous.  Nonetheless, he called them to be faithful in how they treated one another and those outside the community of faith.  Despite what our prideful thoughts tell us, our calling is not to be in charge of the world and somehow to make history turn out right according to our own designs.  It is simply to be faithful in the circumstances in which we find ourselves. If we refuse to offer our time, talents, and energy to serve Christ and our neighbors because we are waiting for a greater or more prominent opportunity, we will be in the same situation as the paralyzed man would have been had he refused to get out of his bed.  It requires humility to accept the circumstances of our lives as the context in which we will find our salvation.  And if we are not faithful in small things, we will never learn to be faithful in larger ones.
On “St. Timon’s Sunday,” we have the opportunity to offer what we can to God for the sake of our brothers and sisters in Syria. This is our opportunity to obey St. Paul’s instructions to “contribute to the needs of the saints” and give “in liberality.” Our participation in this offering over the years has enabled the Archdiocese of Bosra-Hauran to minister to the great needs of the residents of the area in practical, tangible ways such as a medical clinic and a pharmacy.  This offering is also our opportunity to rise up from our beds of self-centeredness in gratitude as we give in support of those from whom we have received the great blessing of the Orthodox Christian faith.
If we are truly in Christ, we will not define ourselves essentially in terms of nationality, politics, race, class, or any other merely human distinction, but as members of His Body, the Church, in which such matters are irrelevant.  If we are finding the healing of our souls in Christ, His love toward enemies, foreigners, and anyone in misery will become characteristic of us.  We will pursue the path to His Kingdom by taking the humble steps we can toward becoming more like Him in holiness as we follow the example  of St. Timon and the many generations of Middle Eastern Christians who have taken up their crosses in faithfulness to Christ and love toward their neighbors.  By sharing our resources with them even in small ways, we will open our hearts more fully to the Savior Who not only forgives our sins, but empowers us to become living icons of His merciful love.  Let us use this opportunity to serve Him in our brothers and sisters in Syria for our salvation.

On Serving One, Not Two, Masters: Homily for the Great Martyr Kyriaki of Nicomedia and the Third Sunday of Matthew in the Orthodox Church

Galatians 3:23-4:5; Matthew 6:22-33

          Today we celebrate the memory of the Holy Great Martyr Kyriaki, who gave the ultimate witness for Jesus Christ by refusing to worship pagan gods and giving up her life after suffering brutal persecution from the Roman Empire.  A beautiful young virgin, Kyriaki came from a wealthy family, but she refused the offer of marriage to the son of a magistrate who wanted their money.  The magistrate then denounced the family as Christians to the Emperor Diocletian.  Even when offered great riches and marriage to one of the emperor’s relatives if she would worship the pagan gods, Kyriaki refused and miraculously survived horrible tortures from four different rulers.  The Lord appeared to her and healed her wounds.  The next day her prayers destroyed a pagan temple, and the wild beasts to which she was later thrown would not attack her. Kyriaki gave up her soul right before she was to be beheaded.

If we want a powerful example of obedience to Christ’s teaching that one cannot serve two masters, we need to look no further than the witness of the St. Kyriaki.  She had wealth from her family, great beauty, and a way to become powerful, prominent, and even wealthier by worshiping false gods.  The eye of her soul was so pure, however, that she knew Christ not as a religious figure from the past, but as God.  Because she was filled with the divine light, she saw clearly that the blessings of this life must not become idols that would turn her away from the Lord.  Because they are His gifts to us, she knew that we must offer them and ourselves faithfully to Christ, recognizing that there is nothing more important than seeking “first His Kingdom and His righteousness.”

The witness of St. Kyriaki provides an especially vivid portrait of what is at stake in recognizing that we cannot serve two masters.  It is not hard at all to see that she faced a clear choice between the Lord and the things of the world.  Where we tend to fall into trouble is when our choices are less clear, when the contrast between faithfulness and idolatry is not as stark.  In our time and place, it is unlikely that someone will straightforwardly promise us great wealth and power if we will deny Christ and worship another god.  It is far more likely that we will endure subtle temptations to put fulfilling our self-centered desires before obedience to the Lord.  Because the eyes of our souls are not pure and clear, there is much darkness in our hearts.  We lack the spiritual vision clearly to see ourselves and all the circumstances of our lives before God.  Without recognizing what we are doing, we often blindly stumble into worshiping the false gods of pride, pleasure, and possessions.  Instead of learning to “seek first His kingdom and His righteousness” with the trust that “all these things shall be yours as well,” we easily fall into the trap of serving idols even as we think that we are being faithful to the Lord.

Saint Paul reminded the Galatians that to be in Christ as children of God is not a matter of obeying a mere code of conduct.  Through baptism, we put on Christ like a garment such that the distinctions between people as we know them in this world lack ultimate spiritual significance.  Christ adopts us as His children by faith and heirs to the ancient promise to Abraham, regardless of the outward circumstances of our lives. The transformation does not concern simply outward behavior, but goes to the heart.  The ultimate question for us all is whether we are becoming radiant with the gracious divine energies of God from the depths of our souls.  If we are, then we will gain the spiritual clarity to discern when temptations arise that would turn us away from faithfulness to the Lord.  That is how we will learn to see clearly when a false master threatens to turn us into idolaters.

We must be especially on guard, then, against the temptation to equate faithfulness to Christ with simply doing this or that good deed or holding an opinion on any issue.  It is possible to check off all the right boxes in terms of our behavior or ideas, but still to make our faith simply a means of trying to get what we want on our own terms in this world. Throughout history in ways small and great, many have fallen prey to the temptation to use Christianity to serve their own pride and desire for power, pleasure, and possessions. It is possible to distort even the most obvious dimensions of true discipleship into ways of serving ourselves and our agendas over those we consider our, and perhaps even God’s, enemies.

As St. Paul taught, being in Christ may not be reduced to outward obedience to a religious or moral law.  It is, instead, to be so united with Him in holy love that the eyes of our souls are filled with His brilliant light as every dimension of our life becomes radiant with His gracious divine energies. The more illumined we are in Him, the more we will see ourselves and all the blessings and challenges of this world in relation to Him.  This is not a healing that we can earn or give ourselves, for we are justified by faith in a God we not cannot control or make in our image.  We must, however, cooperate with our Lord’s mercy as we deliberately open our darkened souls to the healing light of Christ.

Doing so requires that, like St. Kyriaki, we make sacrifices that demand something of us.  She did not become a glorious saint by doing what was easy or popular or somehow figuring out how to consider herself a Christian while worshiping false gods just a bit.  No, she bravely drew a line and refused to cross it, no matter what.  If we want to acquire the spiritual vision necessary to seek first our Lord’s kingdom and righteousness in a world full of temptations, we must all mindfully turn away from thoughts, words, and deeds that we have made false gods.  We must recognize that we have been trying to serve two masters and that we must make painful choices in order to offer ourselves to Christ for healing.

In order to discern what those choices are, we must mindfully embrace the basic spiritual disciplines of the Christian life, such as prayer, fasting, almsgiving, regular confession of sins, and asking for and extending forgiveness to others.  We must be vigilant against wasting our time and energy in entertainment, conversations, relationships, or other activities that threaten to enslave us even further to our own self-centered desires.  Like St. Kyriaki, we must dare to be out of step with cultural trends that present the good life as being contrary to denying ourselves, taking up our crosses, and following our Savior.  His way has never been easy or popular, though many continue to identify themselves with Him while making the world their false god.  Instead of trying to use Christ to raise ourselves up over against anyone or any group, we must simply be faithful as we keep the eyes of our souls wide open to the presence of the Lord.  The more He illumines us with His holy light, the more we will be able to recognize, name, and reject the particular forms of darkness that threaten to blind us to the glory of His kingdom.  By pursuing this path faithfully, we will learn to see all the blessings and challenges of life in light of Christ as we turn away from worshiping false gods and serve Him as our true Master. That is how we too may follow along the path of the Holy Great Martyr Kyriaki and all the saints.

Receiving and Giving Freely, Like the Apostles: Homily for the Synaxis of the Twelve Apostles in the Orthodox Church

1 Corinthians 4:9-16; Matthew 9:36-10:8

            Today we commemorate the twelve apostles, looking to them as examples of faithfulness to the Savior.  As with many aspects of our faith, we may be so familiar with them that we take their ministry for granted and do not see how their witness has much to do with us.  After all, they were our Lord’s disciples during His earthly ministry and did not fully understand Who He was until after His resurrection.  Empowered by the Holy Spirit, they then shepherded the Church as they fulfilled Christ’s command to  “preach…‘The kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, cast out demons.”  They all struggled and suffered greatly in faithfulness to the Lord in their ministries, with St. John the Theologian being the only one not dying as a martyr.  That is how they became glorious saints.

If we ever find ourselves thinking that others should praise us for serving Christ, we must look to their example as people who abandoned the comforts of a conventional life to follow a Messiah Who Himself was rejected and condemned by respectable religious and political leaders.  The Savior’s message was such a threat to their power that they crucified Him as a public example of what happened to those who got in their way and threatened the order of society.  As Christ foretold, “the time is coming when anyone who kills you will think they are offering a service to God.” (Jn 16: 2) It is not surprising that the apostles who continued our Lord’s ministry met deaths like His.  They obeyed literally the Savior’s teaching to deny themselves, take up their crosses, and follow Him.
The way of Christ was certainly not popular or celebrated during their lifetimes.  To the contrary, it was a path to persecution, imprisonment, torture, and death.  In contrast to false teachers who tried to use their position for self-glorification, St. Paul knew that true apostles are like people on death row.  They came across as fools wasting their lives in the service of a dead rabbi.  They lacked the basic necessities of life, often being hungry, thirsty, and homeless.  People often treated them as so much garbage with no human dignity at all.

The way of the apostles was not to respond in kind to their enemies, but to manifest the merciful love of the Savior.  Even as He prayed for the forgiveness of those who killed Him and did not respond with violence toward His enemies, St. Paul writes that “When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we try to conciliate.”  The disciples are members of Christ’s Body, the Church, and manifest His ministry as shepherds of the flock. Their work is not their own, but Christ’s.  That is why St. Paul could say with integrity “I urge you, then, be imitators of me.”  His life had become an enacted icon of the Savior.  As he wrote elsewhere, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ Who lives in me.”  (Gal. 2:20)

No matter what our particular calling in the life of the Church may be, all who are members of the Body of Christ have the same fundamental obligation to become beautiful living icons of our Lord.  People should be able to look at any one of us and see a vibrant image of the healing of the human person in God’s image and likeness that our Savior has worked for the salvation of the world.  The apostles are examples for us all in this regard, regardless of the differences between the particulars of their callings and ours.  We have the benefit of their examples and of countless saints who have followed in their way, and must not excuse ourselves from faithfully fulfilling our common vocation.
Christ said to the apostles, “You received without paying, give without pay.”  All the more does His admonition apply to us, who have received the infinite blessings of the ministries of the Church, not as a reward for good behavior, but purely due to the mercy of our Lord.  There is a strong temptation to make our life in the Church all about ourselves, as though God’s salvation were our personal possession to be used for our own comfort and satisfaction.  The apostles certainly rejected the temptation to reduce the Body of Christ to an ethnically defined organization that excluded Gentiles.  They condemned efforts to make the Church the possession of the wealthy and powerful of this world.  They did not compromise the requirements of discipleship in order to give themselves power or to go along with every inclination of the people of their time and place.

Had their religion been something they had invented or earned, they could have done with it as they pleased.  Our Lord’s salvation, however, is not a product of this world or a commodity to be divided up or bought and sold according to conventional human designs.  He has conquered death, the wages of sin, by His own death and resurrection.  We share in His life by grace, which means that we are always in the position of those who have “received without paying.”  Consequently, we must “give without pay” and refuse to make our participation in the Body of Christ a matter of serving ourselves or getting what we want.  If we are truly in Christ, then His life will become our own; our character will conform to His.  He is the vine and we are the branches.  (Jn. 15:5)  Since He offered up Himself freely for our sake, we must offer ourselves in His Body, the Church.

Across the centuries, countless Christians have done so by following the apostles in literally dying for Christ as martyrs.  They have borne witness that the life in Christ has nothing at all to do with a self-serving religion that gives us what we want on our own terms in the world as we know it.   Such martyrdom is a particular calling that requires a God-given strength beyond human will power.  Dying physically is not, however, the only way to bear witness to our Lord, for there are many ways of giving ourselves freely in obedience to His command to take up our crosses. In order to give up the self-centeredness that so easily corrupts everything from our life in the Church to our marriages and use of time and money, we must bear the cross of devoting ourselves to basic spiritual disciplines, such as prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.  These are not reserved only for certain penitential periods of the year, but should always be characteristic of our lives.

How else will we gain the spiritual clarity to discern how the Lord is calling us to serve Him in the Church and in the world?  We must mindfully open our hearts to God in prayer each day, tuning out our usual distractions in order to be fully present before Him.  We must discipline our appetites regularly so that we will not become slaves of self-indulgence in food, drink, or other pleasures.  We must learn to love and serve Christ in our neighbors by being generous with our time, energy, and resources in relation to their needs.

These practices sound simple and easy, but anyone who has taken even small steps to embrace them knows that that is not the case.  If we want to follow in the glorious way of the apostles, we must gain the strength to do so by taking the small steps of which we are capable in giving ourselves freely to the Lord in the service of His Church and of the people we encounter every day.  We have no lack of opportunities to do so.  By responding to those opportunities as best we presently can, we will learn to take up our crosses and take our place among the countless witnesses to the saving mercy of our Lord.  We have received without paying.  Let us give in the same way.