"Love Your Enemies" : Homily for the Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost & Second Sunday of Luke in the Orthodox Church

 

2 Cor.  1:21-2:4; Luke 6:31-36

 One of the great challenges that many of us face is learning to see that being an Orthodox Christians may not be reduced to confessing certain beliefs about God, no matter how true those beliefs are.  Our faith may not be reduced to conscientious participation in the worship of the Church or keeping our own rule of prayer, fasting, almsgiving, or other spiritual disciplines.  Our faith may not be reduced to following a code of moral behavior or distinguishing clearly between actions that are good or evil.  These endeavors are all virtuous in and of themselves and we must not neglect or diminish them in any way, but our calling is much higher, for it is nothing less than to embody the mercy of God from the very depths of our being. That sublime vocation goes well beyond the demands of being a conventionally religious or moral person, for it requires nothing less than becoming “partakers of the divine nature” by grace.  Remember what the Lord said, “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 how they were to act as those in a covenantal relation with God.  Jesus Christ is not simply an especially insightful rabbi or prophet on such matters, but truly the God-Man in Whom the ancient promises, laws, and prophecies are fulfilled and extended even to Gentiles like us who respond to Him with humble faith.  He is a Person in Whose life we share 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 every aspect of our existence. In Him, we become truly sons and daughters of the Most High, for His eternal life becomes ours.   

 It is only in this context that we can understand our Lord’s teaching in today’s gospel reading:  “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 St. 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 restrain 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, including religion, politics, and ethnicity.   (Matt. 5:43) Instead, the Savior called His followers to be in communion with Him from the depths of their hearts to the point that we embody the divine mercy, loving our enemies like God, Who cares even for “the ungrateful and selfish.”  Let us be clear:  That means that God cares even for people like me and you.

             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 being conventionally religious or moral.  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 and allies, to those we think will return our good will, or to those with whom we have some characteristic in common. It is not enough simply to restrain ourselves from abusing our enemies verbally or otherwise or even to go through the motions of being decent toward them.  No, the God-Man calls and enables us to become brilliant with the gracious divine energies to the point that we convey His merciful love to everyone from the depths of our souls. 

            If we approach this sublime calling merely as a reminder to obey 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 something we cannot accomplish by willpower or behavior modification alone, even as we cannot raise ourselves up from the grave.  And if we think that we have already fulfilled this calling, then we show only that 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 those who have wronged or offended us, 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 fixate on the wrongs of others and open our hearts in humility to receive the Lord’s gracious healing.  The more that we are aware of our own dependence upon His mercy as “the chief of sinners,” the less inclination we will have to misdirect our attention and energy to holding grudges and condemning our neighbors.

        In today’s epistle reading, St. Paul writes candidly to the confused Christians of Corinth that he knows he has caused them pain by correcting their many abuses of the faith as mostly Gentile converts who kept falling back into the ways of paganism and fell short of manifesting the unity of the Body of Christ in holiness. He did not pain them out of malice or a desire to dominate them, “For I wrote you out of much affliction and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to cause you pain but to let you know the abundant love that I have for you.”  In any sphere of life, it is so easy to fall prey to the temptation of thinking that whoever is disagreeing with us or criticizing us is simply trying make our lives difficult or show that they are in a superior position. So often, we are tempted to respond to them in kind, which usually tempts them to get back at us in a never-ending cycle of resentment. We so easily jump to the conclusion that this or that person is simply an enemy when our judgment is clouded by our own passions.  Paul’s statement should remind us that love for neighbor can certainly require telling people what they do not want to hear.  The healing of broken relationships can require confronting uncomfortable truths about ourselves and others.  It is rarely an easy or comfortable process when imperfect people come face to face with how they have wounded one another. It is only by finding healing for the soul as we unite ourselves evermore fully to Christ that we will gain the spiritual clarity to discern what it means to speak and act mercifully in such situations and not according to our passions.  

If we are truly in Christ, 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 being conventionally religious or moral, 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 becoming radiant with the gracious divine mercy of the Lord as His sons and daughters.

 

 

Letting Down our Empty Nets in Humble Obedience: Homily for the Thirteenth Sunday After Pentecost and the First Sunday of Luke in the Orthodox Church

 

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

           Many people today lack perseverance.  We have become so accustomed to instantaneous communication and access to entertainment and information on devices that we carry in our pockets or wear on our wrists that many quickly now lose interest in anything that does not bring immediate results.  Then they move on to something else.  No wonder so many people report being lonely and not having sustaining long-term friendships.  Relationships with other people require patience and commitment, though we all make mistakes in them.  The same is true of our relationship with the Lord.  Sharing in His life is not a one-time event, a quick fix to a problem, or an opportunity to show that we are perfect, but an eternal journey that all of us have just begun and for which we all need infinite mercy.        

Perhaps many years of frustration as professional fishermen played a role in preparing Peter, James, and John to begin their long and difficult journeys as the Lord’s disciples.  They knew that they could not make fish swim into their nets.  They had surely fished all night and caught nothing more times than they could count and this was another one of those times.  They knew from experience 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 obeyed with a tone of frustration, saying: “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing!  But at Your word I will let down the nets.”  Then they caught so many fish that their nets broke and their boats began to sink.  This amazing scene helped Peter catch a glimpse of where he stood before Christ, for he said, “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 began their long and difficult journey as His disciples.

After leaving behind their fishing nets, the apostles had to keep letting down the nets of their souls time and time again in obedience, despite their lack of perfect faith.  Christ was certainly frustrated with their lack of understanding many times, even to the point of saying “’Get behind me, Satan!’” to Peter. (Mk. 8:33) Those to whom He taught plainly the mysteries of the Kingdom (Mk. 4:1) understood the Savior so poorly that they abandoned Him at His arrest and crucifixion and originally doubted the news of His resurrection.  He never abandoned them, however, and fulfilled the promise that they would draw others into the nets of the Kingdom by sending upon them the Holy Spirit, Who enabled them to manifest Christ’s ministry with power beyond any merely human ability.

If we want to pursue the Christian life with integrity, then we must follow the example of the disciples in struggling to persist in obeying our Lord’s command.  We must “let down our nets” in obedience each day of our lives. That is not something to be tried once and then abandoned if we do not get the results that we want from our efforts.  That is not something to refuse to do because it would be easier in the moment to do something else instead.  That is not something to be abandoned because there are so many direct paths to pleasure, popularity, and power in this world that we could take.  To “let down our nets” is to make obedience to the Lord’s commands a settled habit in our lives, a stable dimension of our character.  It is an absolute necessity if we are going to gain the spiritual strength to persist in following Christ into the blessedness of His kingdom.

            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 in relation to the Lord.  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 should remind us of how the Prophet Isaiah responded to his vision of the heavenly temple: “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” (Is. 6:5) When we attempt even the smallest act of obedience, we open our darkened souls to behold the brilliant light of Christ at least a bit.  The darkness in our hearts will then become all the more evident to us. At that point, we have to choose between enduring the tension of facing the uncomfortable truth about our souls or making ourselves blind to it by refusing to take up the ongoing struggle of obedience. 

 The only way to embrace Christ’s healing is to follow the example of Isaiah and Peter in humbling recognizing that we are sinners in need of the Lord’s mercy.  Theirs is the same spirit conveyed in the word received by St. Silouan the Athonite: “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. It was only through years of faithful persistence in doing so that he found healing for his passions.  Silouan refused to stop letting down his nets, and that is how he fulfilled St. Paul’s teaching in today’s epistle lesson: “Brethren, be watchful, stand firm in your faith, be courageous, and be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.”

 In order to follow the examples of these great saints, we must take up the struggle of obedience to the Savior, Who said, “If you love me, keep my commandments.” (Jn, 14:15) He spoke those words to disciples who would soon deny and abandon Him, not to people with an unbroken record of spiritual perfection.  Like the disciples did, we wander from the path of obedience with some regularity and often fall flat on our faces due to our weakness before the besetting sins that have become almost second nature to us.  Instead of allowing our pride and impatience to lead us to abandon the difficult way to the Kingdom, we must redirect the energy of our passions to fuel our persistent pursuit of obedience, no matter how imperfect it is.  Instead of despairing that there is no hope for the likes of us, we must humbly accept the truth that our failures reveal about our present spiritual state as we let down our nets time and time again for a catch.  We cannot heal our souls any more than the disciples could make fish swim into their nets, but we can put ourselves in the only place where we can receive the healing mercy of Christ.  That is the place of humility, which we cultivate a bit more fully every time that we see how far short we have fallen in keeping His commandments and call out from our hearts: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

 Despite their imperfect faith and obedience, the disciples gained the spiritual strength to draw people into the nets of the Kingdom.  They did so not by earning a reward for impeccable behavior, but by continuing to stumble along the path of discipleship and returning to it when  they strayed from it.  That is how they learned to see themselves clearly and came to acquire the humility necessary to receive the Lord’s gracious healing mercy.  As Peter once said in response to Christ asking whether the disciples would stop following Him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life?” (Jn. 6:68)   Perhaps they had learned from experience that, apart from Him, their nets would always be empty. If we want to learn the same lesson, then we must persist in letting down our nets in obedience, especially when we are as frustrated as those who fished all night and caught nothing.  That is how we too may open our darkened hearts to become radiant with the healing light of Christ.

 

 

Homily for the Sunday After the Exaltation 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 symbol that requires nothing of us. 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 eternal life, we must take up our own crosses, deny ourselves, and follow Him.  If we refuse to do that, then we will show that we are ashamed of our Lord and want no part in Him or His Kingdom. We will show that we prefer to continue in the old way of death rather than to enter by His grace into the heavenly reign.  

            Peter was in precisely such a state 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, no matter the cost.  Our vocation is to lose our lives in this world 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 try to use religion to exalt ourselves.  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 own religious or moral superiority over their family members, friends, or neighbors.  The problem is not so much in the particulars of how anyone has used the Cross as in the very idea of using it, of making it an instrument for serving our passions in achieving anything at all in this world.  Quite to the contrary, our Lord’s Cross calls us to turn away from addiction to gratifying our self-centered desires as we offer ourselves in union with His great Self-Offering for the salvation of the world.     

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

There is obviously nothing deficient in our Lord’s great Self-Offering.  All that is lacking is our taking up our own crosses in obedience to the Lord’s calling to deny ourselves and follow Him. Because of our 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 embracing the struggle to offer ourselves fully to Christ. Truly taking up our crosses means fighting the difficult battle of confronting our own personal brokenness each day as we reject thoughts, feelings, and habits that would keep us focused on serving ourselves and the false gods of this world.  

  Christ prayed the night before His crucifixion, “Father, if You are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but Yours be done.” (Luke 22:42) He ascended the Cross in free obedience, and no one forces us to take up our crosses either.  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 wounds to Christ for healing by ignoring them or convincing ourselves that we are still better off spiritually than the people we like to condemn.  Of course, doing so will simply fuel our passions, blind us with spiritual pride, and corrupt our relationships with others.   No one can keep us from refusing to take up our crosses, as freedom is an intrinsic dimension of being in God’s image.    

Only we can unite ourselves to Christ in His Great Self-Offering for the salvation of the world. Regardless of the circumstances, we have the freedom to refuse to fall into despair, for any instance of struggle, pain, disappointment, or suffering provides an opportunity to purify the desires of our hearts as we learn to entrust ourselves more fully to the Lord.  Difficulties by their nature present challenges to which we may respond in a Christlike way or according to our passions.  He offered up Himself fully upon the Cross and refused to respond in kind to those who hated and rejected Him.  Likewise, we may unite ourselves to Him in every dimension and circumstance of our lives, including those in which we are sorely tempted not to respond as He did. Illness, broken relationships with others, worries about the future, regrets about the past, crushed hopes, and even the worst losses imaginable all present opportunities to grow in “love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”  Saint Paul wrote that “those who are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.”  (Gal. 5:22-24)

Our self-centered and distorted desires usually rear their ugly heads quickly when we face trying circumstances.  If you are like me, you sometimes react like Jonah when the vine that gave him shade was eaten by a worm.  That was a very small thing, but Jonah became so angry that he literally wished he would die. (Jonah 4:5-11)   Other times we face circumstances so grave that they rattle us to the depths of our souls and we must struggle mightily not to fall into despair about life itself.  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 souls. 

Doing so usually does not require anything particularly dramatic or extraordinary.  It is normally a matter of focusing on the basic disciplines of the Christian life, such as refusing to accept sinful thoughts into our hearts, forgiving those who have wronged us, and trusting that nothing “will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Rom. 8:39) The more that we open our souls to the Lord’s healing strength through prayer, 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 less that we worry obsessively or run our mouths thoughtlessly, the more we will be able to pray to God from our hearts to grant what is best for us, our loved ones, and our world.  We must follow the Apostle’s teaching, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7) This is the path for gaining the strength to take up our crosses, deny ourselves, and follow Christ. 

In order to take up our crosses, we must choose to embrace the struggle of dying to our vain illusions about ourselves, other people, 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 may 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.  

 

 

 

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

 

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

The temptation to make faithfulness to Jesus Christ merely a matter of outward obedience to a set of laws goes back to the first century and is still with us today.  The problem with legalism is that, as admirable as a life lived according to even the best code of conduct may be, it cannot heal our souls by making us “a new creation” as participants in the eternal life of the God-Man. Today’s celebration of the Nativity of the Theotokos and the upcoming feast of the Elevation of the Holy Cross both remind us that only the Savior Who vanquished Hades is able to make us “partakers of the divine nature” as heirs by faith to His fulfillment of the promises to Abraham. 

The Savior’s grandparents Saints Joachim and Anna had despaired of fulfilling their role in the ongoing life of the Hebrew people due to their childlessness well into old age.  God heard their prayers, however, and miraculously blessed them to conceive a daughter, whom they offered to the Lord by taking her to live in the Temple as a three-year old. That is where she grew up in purity and prayer as she prepared to become the Living Temple of the Lord, the Theotokos who would contain the Son of God in her womb as His Virgin Mother.  Her parents had learned through decades of bitter disappointment not to rely on what they could accomplish merely by their own abilities, but instead to trust in the Lord’s mercy to bless them as He had blessed Abraham and Sarah. He did so with a daughter who would give birth to the Messiah.  By His grace, they fulfilled their role in the life of Israel in ways well beyond all expectations.

In today’s epistle reading, St. Paul argues against fellow Christians of Jewish heritage who thought that Gentile converts had to be circumcised in obedience to the Old Testament law before becoming Christians.  He rejected that practice, “For in Christ Jesus, neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation.”  As St. Paul taught, “you are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus.  For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.  There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” (Gal. 3: 26-29) By conquering death through His Cross and resurrection, the Savior has opened the gates of Paradise to all who respond to Him with faith.  As He said to Nicodemus in today’s gospel reading, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.  For God sent His Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him.”

Our Lord was lifted up upon the Cross because even the strictest obedience to the Old Testament law could never have made us “a new creation.” The cycle of birth and the grave had reigned ever since the corruption of our first parents both for those who had the law and for those who did not. The path out of slavery to corruption was not through our ability to obey rules, but in being healed by the gracious mercy of God, Who blessed an elderly, righteous Jewish couple with a long-awaited daughter named Mary.   She, in turn, received the unique blessing of becoming the Virgin Mother of the New Adam, Who would set right all that the first Adam had gotten wrong.  The Theotokos is the New Eve through whom Life came into the world.  Her birth foreshadows the coming of the Savior in whom we are born again for the life the Kingdom.

In Christ’s conversation with Nicodemus, a legalistic Pharisee, He spoke not of law, but of the life into which we enter by faith, saying that “as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.”  He refers here to an event described in Numbers 21:8-9, when the Hebrews were saved from deadly snake bites when they looked at the bronze snake held up by Moses in the desert.  Christ does not describe Moses here in connection with the Ten Commandments, but instead as foretelling His victory over death through the Cross. Against those who trusted in their ability to obey laws, St. Paul wrote, “far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me and I to the world.”  Through His Cross, Christ has liberated us from obsession with self-justification so that we may become “a new creation,” being born again into the eternal life that He has brought to the world.

In order to find the healing of our souls in Him, we must take up our crosses.  Joachim and Anna bore the heavy cross of childlessness for decades.  When God miraculously blessed them with the conception and birth of Mary, they offered her to grow up in the Temple.  After decades of disappointment, they knew that God’s blessing was not their private possession, but a calling for them to offer even the greatest desire of their hearts to Him.  Their daughter bore the unbelievably heavy cross of seeing her Son lifted up for the salvation of the world.  As St. Symeon prophetically told her, “a sword will pierce your own soul also.”  (Luke 2:35)

As members of Christ’s Body, the Church, we reap the blessings of the faithful obedience of Joachim and Anna and of their daughter the Theotokos.  We must now take up our own crosses as we unite ourselves more fully to Christ in His great Self-Offering for the salvation of the world.  It is only by dying to the old ways of death that remain with us that we will be able to live as His “new creation,” free from obsession with self-justification as a way of coping with slavery to the fear of death.  We will condemn only ourselves if we celebrate the faithfulness of the Theotokos and her parents while not following their holy examples.  They were not self-righteous legalists, but humbly entrusted themselves to God in ways that required deep faith and personal sacrifice.  We must do the same as we refuse to view the Cross as merely an artifact of ancient religious history or an empty symbol that we distort into a means of gaining power of any kind in this world.  

We will remain enslaved to the corruption of the first Adam and Eve if we refuse to endure the daily struggle of crucifying the disordered desires and unholy habits that keep us wedded to the misery and despair from which Christ came to set us free.  The birth of the New Eve foreshadows our salvation in the New Adam through His Cross.  “For God sent His Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him.”  Let us celebrate the Nativity of the Theotokos, then, by freely taking up our crosses as we turn away from all that distracts us from entering into the great joy of the fulfillment of the ancient promises to Abraham to which we are heirs by faith.   “For in Christ Jesus, neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation.”  That is precisely who our Lord, the New Adam, calls us to become as those transfigured by His grace.  

Homily for the Ecclesiastical New Year in the Orthodox Church

 

1Timothy 2:1-7; Luke 4:16-22

 Think for a moment about how we mark the passage of time in our lives.  We all know how old we are.  Students know what grade they are in.  Workers know how long they have been employed.  Married people count their anniversaries.  Some of us remember America’s bicentennial.  Perhaps we pay attention to such markers to try to make sense of the meaning of our lives as those caught up in the inevitable cycle of birth and death, of one generation passing away as another arises.  As we read in Ecclesiastes, “That which has been is what will be, That which is done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun.” (Eccles. 1:9)

 Today we celebrate the ecclesiastical New Year with a gospel reading that is anything but business as usual in a world enslaved to the fear of death.  In Jesus Christ’s first sermon in His hometown of Nazareth, He identified Himself publicly as the Messiah by saying that He fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah as One anointed “to preach good news to the poor and to heal the broken hearted…to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.”    Everyone present liked what He had to say, for what could be better than to have a neighbor as the next King David, a righteous political and military ruler who would liberate Israel from Roman control and usher in a time of national blessedness?

 The verses following today’s reading show, however, that the Lord is a radically different kind of Messiah from what the people had expected.  For He went on to remind them that God had blessed Gentiles through the great prophets Elijah and Elisha, while there were Jews who continued to suffer. In doing so, Christ challenged their assumption that God’s blessings were only for people like them to the exclusion of the hated Gentiles.  They were so outraged that they tried to throw Him off a cliff.  Think about that for a moment.  The Lord’s neighbors went from being very happy about His words to trying to kill Him because He made clear that God’s blessings were not only for people of their religious and ethnic heritage, but for the entire world.  Their rejection of the true Messiah revealed how they were enslaved to hatred of those they saw as foreigners and enemies.  They had corrupted their faith to the point that they were so consumed with lust for power and vengeance that they tried to kill the Savior.  

 It is certainly understandable that people living under the occupation of a foreign power would want to be liberated.  That was all the more true for the Jews in light of God’s promises to Abraham to bless his descendants in their own land.   Prophets had foretold their return from exile in Babylon and envisioned them flourishing in a way that would draw all nations and peoples to God.  Unfortunately, many misinterpreted these great promises to the point that they identified God’s Kingdom with an earthly realm for only their own community.  That is why those who heard the Lord’s sermon in Nazareth tried to kill Him when He reminded them that God’s concern extends even to the hated Gentiles.  It was also why the same crowds who cheered His entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday called for His crucifixion a few days later, once it became clear that He was not a conventional worldly ruler about to deliver them from Roman occupation.

 Many still struggle today to accept that Christ’s Kingdom is not merely an extension of life as we know it in this world with a few changes that favor certain groups or agendas over against others.  We so easily forget that, when our Lord conquered Hades and the grave in His glorious resurrection on the third day, He ushered in the eighth day of the everlasting joy of the heavenly reign.  Those who share in His blessed life are no longer enslaved to the fear of death that drives people to take up sides against one another in a futile effort to preserve their individual existence this side of the grave.   Our risen Lord has destroyed the basis of such enmity and division.  He calls us to a radically new way of life not characterized by the old familiar obsession with self-preservation, but in which we conform our character to His to the point that we acquire the spiritual health to “preach good news to the poor and…heal the broken hearted…[and] proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind… set at liberty those who are oppressed…[and] proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord” in thought, word, and deed.

 Those who know from the depths of their hearts that even the grave is now an entryway to  eternal life will have the freedom to serve and pray for all who suffer from the debilitating effects of sin as beloved neighbors, regardless of whether they are friends or foes according to the standards of the conventional wisdom. The same Lord Who had mercy on Samaritans, Roman centurions, demon-possessed Gentiles, and Jews who had become notorious sinners has made us members of His own Body, the Church, in which the typical human distinctions are simply irrelevant.  In His Kingdom, there are no grounds to view anyone as essentially a stranger, a foreigner, or an alien instead of as a fellow child of God.   

 Saint Paul, the former Pharisee, became the unlikely apostle to the Gentiles, for he knew that the Lord wants “all to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.”  For Christ is the “one Mediator…Who gave Himself a ransom for all.” All who bear God’s image and likeness had become subject to death through sin, and all needed a liberation they could not give themselves. As he wrote to the Church in Rome, “There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by His grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.” (Rom. 3:22-24) Because the Lord has healed the great division of Jew and Gentile, it is clear that earthly distinctions between groups of people have no significance at all in His Kingdom.  Through faith in Him, all may become heirs to the fulfillment of the promises to Abraham.

 We often fail to embrace the full meaning of this radical claim for how we view ourselves and our world.  The nations, leaders, and governments come and go, as do economic systems, political movements, social groups, and cultures. While such passing affiliations shape important dimensions of our lives in this world, we must never allow them to cloud our spiritual vision to the point that we define ourselves or others fundamentally in light of them. If we do, we will fall into the idolatry of seeking first a kingdom of worldly corruption that remains enslaved to the fear of death.  If we do, we will distract ourselves from facing the truth of our own brokenness by building ourselves up over against others from whom we differ in some superficial way.  It is so easy and appealing to invent excuses to justify indulging our passions for hatred, vengeance, and domination against real or imagined enemies.  Of course, that is completely contrary to the way of Christ, Who said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.”  (Matt. 5:43-45) 

 St. Paul suffered imprisonment and death at the hands of the Roman Empire; nonetheless, he instructed St. Timothy to pray for all people, including “for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life, godly and respectful in every way.”  His concern was not for some form of earthly power or glory for himself or for the Church.  Instead, He focused on entering into the new day of a Kingdom not of this world, which is why he could pray even for those who would ultimately take his life.  This was a radically different attitude from that shown by those who tried to kill the Savior after His sermon in Nazareth because He refused to bless their fear and hatred of those they saw as foreigners and enemies.

 As we begin a new year in the Church, let us refuse to see ourselves in light of the divisions between people that are driven by the fear of death and serve only to fuel our passions.  Instead, let us live in the eighth day of the joy of the resurrection, which alone makes it possible for us to participate so fully in the life of the Savior that we also “preach good news to the poor and…heal the broken hearted…[and] proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind… set at liberty those who are oppressed…[and] proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.” Let us stop living according to the familiar standards of corruption as we bear witness in our own lives that Christ has truly brought a radically new Kingdom that is not of this world.  May this year be for all of us a time of entering more fully into the eternal blessedness that He came to share with all for whom He gave Himself as a ransom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How Not to Sink Like a Stone in the Waves of our Passions: Homily for the Ninth Sunday After Pentecost & Ninth Sunday of Matthew in the Orthodox Church

 

1 Corinthians 3:9-17: Matthew 14:22-34

 

If you are like me, there are times when you become worried or upset over matters of very little importance.  It often does not take much to punch our buttons because we base our sense of self and wellbeing, as well as our hopes for the future, on illusions that cannot fulfill them.  Due to our darkened spiritual vision, we do not see ourselves, our relationships with other people, or where we stand before the Lord very clearly.  When the inevitable challenges of life cause us to catch even a small glimpse of these uncomfortable truths, we usually do not like it and can easily start to sink into the churning sea of our passions.  

 Today’s gospel lesson provides a vivid example of what happens when we attempt to ground ourselves on the weak foundation of such illusions.  St. Peter began to sink like a stone in a raging sea when he turned his focus from entrusting himself to the Lord to being overcome with fear about where he stood in relation to the wind and the waves.  By his own nature and ability, there was simply no way that Peter could have avoided drowning, but he called out “Lord, save me!”  That is precisely what the Savior did by reaching out to Peter and rescuing him as He said, “O man of little faith, why did you doubt?”  The stress of the storm revealed the weakness of Peter’s faith, which is not surprising because he had gotten himself into this dangerous situation by foolishly putting Christ to the test, saying “Lord, if it is You, bid me come to You on the water.”   By his lack of humble trust, Peter literally got himself in well over his head. He had to learn the hard way that he had no other foundation, no other basis or hope for his life, than Jesus Christ.  If left to his own devices, he would have sunk like a stone as he descended into the darkness of a watery grave.   

 That is a destination completely different from the one to which our Lord calls us. The God-Man came to transfigure us in holiness with His gracious divine energies as the distinct persons He created us to become.  The Savior called His disciples to “be perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect.”  (Matt. 5:48)  He cited the Psalms: “You are gods, and all of you are children of the Most High.” (Psalm 82:6; Jn. 10:34) While we remain human beings by nature, Christ enables us to become like Him by our personal participation in His grace.  That is why theosis is an eternal process, for God’s holiness is truly infinite.  We can never claim to have checked off that box and become ready for some greater vocation.  Our calling does not confirm our proud insistence that we are isolated individuals looking for fulfillment on our own terms, whether in religion or anything else, but instead challenges us to become persons united in love with the Lord and with one another as members of His Body, the Church. We become more fully our true selves not in self-centered isolation, but in relationship with Him and all who bear His image and likeness.

 The contrast between humanity left to our own devices in this world of corruption and the Savior’s restoration and fulfillment of our humanity is starker than the difference between night and day.  It is truly the difference been death and life, between sinking to the bottom of a dark sea of sin and becoming resplendent with the radiant glory of God. Our Lord has conquered death, Hades, and the tomb in His glorious resurrection on the third day.  His divine glory has flooded even the darkest abyss, even the most tragic and painful pits of despair into which we can fall.  He has liberated us from slavery to the fear of death as the God-Man Who shares His restoration of the human person in the divine image and likeness with weak, fearful, anxious, and confused people like us.  When we reach out to Him with faith from the depths of our hearts, as Peter did when he began to sink, He will rescue us as we open our darkened souls to receive His healing light.   

 Instead of remaining captive to our self-centered desires and proud illusions, we must enter into the blessed life of the Kingdom of the Lord Who reigns from His Cross and empty tomb, even as we live in this world of corruption.   That certainly does not mean that all our problems will disappear or that we will get all that we want in this life on our own terms.  It does not mean that at all, as the difficult struggles of the martyrs, confessors, and other saints so clearly demonstrate. It does mean, however, that even our most difficult and painful circumstances present opportunities to grow in embracing Christ as the very foundation of our life as we learn not to entrust our souls to anything or anyone else.  That is how we will find liberation from slavery to the fear of death, which fuels our anxieties and the other passions that come from grounding ourselves in that which can never satisfy or save us. 

 As St. Paul taught, “no other foundation can anyone lay than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ.”  No scheme of political reform, cultural progress, or personal growth can have that  place in our lives, for such agendas inevitably worship at the altars of earthly pride, power, and pleasure in one form or another.  No matter how religious or virtuous they may appear, they cannot keep us from sinking under the weight of our own sins.  The Cross of Christ remains a sign of contradiction to the fallen powers of this world, which are all too happy to shout “Crucify Him!  Crucify Him!” whenever they believe it serves their interests.  The darkness roots so deeply within us all, both personally and collectively, and nothing but the brilliant glory of the Lord can overcome it.  Whether we know it or not, we inevitably sink like stones into the abyss whenever we make anything or anyone else, including our own vain imaginations of whatever kind, the foundation of our lives.  All good things have their place in God’s creation and we should despise none of them.  But we will not fully embrace the healing of the New Adam until we ground every dimension of our life on Him, the one true foundation. 

 As St. Paul teaches, we are by no means self-made or self-sustaining.  Our true identity is not a function of any merely human accomplishment, ability, or affiliation.   Instead, “we are God’s fellow workers…God’s field, God’s building…God’s temple… God’s Spirit dwells in you.”  Christ has made us members of His own Body, the Church.  The very foundation of our life, of our identity, and of our hope is in Him, not in our achievements, possessions, personality traits, or any other characteristic.  In order to avoid sinking like stones amidst the raging seas of our lives, we must mindfully turn away from our obsessive illusions about the importance of our own individuality or the uniqueness of any group to which we belong. Otherwise, we will entrust ourselves to that which cannot sustain us and which most definitely cannot lift us up from the ultimate despair of the grave.  We will then become just like Peter as we turn away from humble trust in the Savior and succumb to the wind and waves of worry, fear, and other inflamed passions.

  Let us, then, remain constantly on guard against the temptation to entrust the meaning and purpose of our lives to anything or anyone other than the Lord.  There is no way to do that without cultivating the habits of daily prayer, self-denial for the sake of others, and mindful protection of our hearts from thoughts and desires that fuel our passions.  The next time that you get out of sorts about some small matter, redirect that energy to fuel humble, focused prayer to the Lord as Peter did, saying “Lord, save me!”  He alone can raise us up from drowning in the sea of our passions.

Offering our Few Loaves and Fishes for the Salvation of the World: Homily for the Eighth Sunday After Pentecost & Eighth Sunday of Matthew in the Orthodox Church

 

1 Corinthians 1:10-17; Matthew 14:14-22

            It is easy to fall into despair before our own personal problems, the challenges faced by loved ones, and the brokenness of our society and world.  It is tempting to refuse to accept that we remain responsible for offering ourselves to Christ as best we can for healing and transformation in holiness, regardless of what is going on in our lives, families, or world.   We would usually rather avoid accepting that responsibility like the disciples did when the Lord said concerning the thousands of hungry people who had followed Him into the wilderness, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” Since it had been obvious to the disciples that they did not have the provisions to feed all those people, they had asked Christ to “send the crowds away to go into the villages and buy food for themselves.”  The disciples had only five loaves of bread and two fish, an absurdly small amount of food for a large crowd.  But they still obeyed when “He said, ‘Bring them here to Me.’”  The Savior then “blessed, and broke and gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds.  And they all ate and were satisfied.  And they took up twelve baskets full of the broken pieces left over.  And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.”

 

            The Lord revealed His identity as the Messiah by miraculously supplying food for hungry Jews in the desert like manna from heaven in the Old Testament.  The five loaves remind us of the five books of law in the Hebrew Bible, while the two fish recall the two tablets of God’s commandments received by Moses.  From these small amounts of food came such an abundance that twelve basketsful were leftover, which reminds us of the twelve tribes of Israel.  Five thousand men and their families were fed, which again recalls the five Old Testament books of law. The Lord miraculously satisfied the hunger of a multitude in a way that showed He is the Messiah Who fulfills the promises to Abraham, which are now extended to all who respond to Him with humble faith. 

 

Christ taught the disciples and us that we must offer ourselves and our resources to become instruments of His salvation in this world, regardless of our weaknesses and inadequacies.  Adam and Eve did the opposite by disobeying the Lord’s command and indulging their self-centered desires. They thus refused to fulfill their vocations as living icons of God and pursued a path leading only to despair and death.  The Savior offered Himself on the Cross in order to liberate us from such a depraved state through His glorious resurrection on the third day.  We unite ourselves to His offering when we lift up our hearts and offer bread and wine for the celebration of the Eucharist in the Divine Liturgy.  He has restored and fulfilled the original purpose of food and drink in order to bring us into the eternal communion of love shared by the Persons of the Holy Trinity. He nourishes us with His Body and Blood such that His life becomes ours as participants in the Wedding Feast of the Lamb. 

 

When “He looked up to Heaven, and blessed, and broke and gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds,” the Savior provided an image of the Eucharist.  The disciples did not know that when they handed over their bread and fish to the Lord on that particular day.  But had they not offered what little food they had collected to Christ, the crowd would have gone hungry.  If no one offers the bread and wine for the celebration of the Divine Liturgy, no one is nourished by the Eucharist.  By miraculously satisfying so many with so little, Christ revealed what it means for us to live eucharistically as we offer ourselves and our resources for the fulfillment of His gracious purposes for the world.  We must not offer only bread and wine or think that communion with Christ concerns only what we do on Sunday morning.  Far from it, we must live every day as those who share in His life, offering every aspect of our existence in the world for His blessing and fulfillment.  No matter how tiny or inadequate we may think our offerings are, He multiplies them to accomplish His gracious purposes for us, our neighbors, and our world.

 

As we continue to celebrate the Dormition (or “falling asleep”) of the Theotokos, let us marvel at how an obscure Palestinian Jewish girl freely offered herself to become Christ’s virgin mother when she said, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord.  Let it be to me according to your word.”  By offering herself fully in that moment, she became the Theotokos, the first to receive Christ into her life and, upon her death, the first to follow Him—body, soul, and spirit-- into the heavenly kingdom.  No one forced her, even as her Son did not force the disciples and does not force us.  It is tragically possible to continue instead in the way of our first parents, enslaved to sin and the fear of death.  They did not offer themselves in obedience, but became consumers of the creation, using God’s blessings only to satisfy their own desires.   Their self-centered obsession is at the root of our corruption and we must constantly be on guard against returning to the popular path that leads to the despair of the grave.  

 

As the Theotokos’ example shows, we must never despair of the importance or the possibility of offering ourselves to Christ, regardless of the apparent insignificance of our actions or how we have weakened ourselves by our sins.  Her obedience was not limited to a one-time event but continued throughout the course of her life, even as she saw her Son rejected and condemned and stood by the foot of the Cross as He died.  Likewise, the disciples’ offering was not limited to the small amount of food they handed over on one day, for they had already obeyed His command to leave behind their occupations and families in order to follow Christ.  Had they refused to abandon their fishing nets in order to do so, Peter, James, and John would not have been on Mt. Tabor where they beheld the divine glory of the Lord at the Transfiguration.  The only way to participate in Christ’s transfiguration of the human person in holiness and to follow the Theotokos into the eternal life of the Kingdom is to persist in offering ourselves to Him in obedience each day as best we can, no matter how insignificant or difficult the particular offering may seem.  We never know how God will multiply our small offerings to bless the world. We must simply obey and leave the rest in His hands.     

 

            We will gain the spiritual strength to do so only if we are obedient in embracing the basic spiritual disciplines of the Christian life, including keeping a rule of daily prayer, mindfully keeping a close watch on the thoughts of our hearts, and fasting in a way appropriate to our health and life circumstances. We must forgive those who have wronged us, ask forgiveness from those we have wronged, and give generously to help the needy and support the ministries of the Church.  We must repent of our sins as we embrace Christ’s forgiveness in Confession, which we should all do regularly.  And we should receive our Lord’s Body and Blood as often as we can with proper spiritual preparation.

 

That is how we will gain the strength to live eucharistically.  That is how we will be able to obey His command: “You give them something to eat.”  If we refuse to live in communion with the Savior in the small and unremarkable ways that are available to us each day, what will we ever  have to share with others?  How will we gain the spiritual clarity to know how He calls us to serve Him?  We must offer ourselves to Christ daily through the most basic spiritual disciplines in order to become transfigured in holiness.  That is not a calling for a select few, but the Lord’s command to each and every person who bears the divine image and likeness.  In ways beyond our full understanding, the free obedience of an obscure Jewish girl was necessary for the coming of the Messiah.  In her Dormition and translation to heaven, the Lord has given us a radiant sign of our salvation.  We must each bow before the mystery of how her obedience, and ours, plays a unique role in making the world brilliant with the Lord’s holiness and drawing others into the life of the kingdom.  So let us now lay aside all earthly cares, lift up our hearts, offer bread and wine, and commune as guests at the Messianic Banquet.  And then let us live accordingly each day of our lives, as we make the unique offerings that literally no one else can make.