"All that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution. But evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving, and being deceived," writes the Holy Apostle to Timothy. Thus it was in Russia under the Communist Yoke, and thus it is in America today--though the persecution we are likely to suffer in this post-Christian culture is much more subtle than what occurred in the former Soviet Union...and is, for this very reason, much more insidious, because it is so easy to be complacent, to be lulled into a false sense of security and righteousness.
The fact is, if we were truly living the radical faith our Lord commands in the Gospels, we truly would suffer persecution from the "evil men" of this age. When persecution does arise, however, it is the proud and self-righteous who are the first to fall, to accommodate themselves to the evil forces that strive to pervert the essential goodness of God's creation. So it was that the Pharisees exalted themselves above other men, thinking themselves to be righteous and holy, yet they were the very ones who conspired to put to death He Who is the source of all holiness and righteousness.
The Pharisee in the Temple wasn't praying at all--he was merely patting himself on the back, congratulating himself for being such an upright, virtuous person. The Publican, on the other hand, was painfully aware that he was a sinner, and so he sincerely repented, casting himself down and beseeching God's mercy. For this reason he was justified: having abased himself, he was exalted.
For those who struggle to take up their cross and to follow Christ, suffering and persecution is inevitable in this vale of tears--and truly, only those who endure unto the end will be saved. But unless we are strengthened by the grace of God, all of our efforts will be in vain. And it is only to the humble and contrite that this grace is given. In this respect we should strive at all times to imitate the Publican, that having been humbled, we may in the end be exalted to the heights of heaven.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Monday, February 3, 2014
SUNDAY OF ZACCHAEUS
"For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost." It is for this reason that Jesus is likened to the good shepherd who sets off in search of the one lost sheep while leaving the other ninety-nine behind. Thus did the Jewish leaders condemn Him, grumbling because He had gone to eat at the table of a sinner. Likewise did the elder brother of the Prodigal Son take offense when his father prepared a lavish feast on the occasion of the homecoming of his long lost son.
Truly is it written that the angels in heaven rejoice more over the one sinner who is saved than the many who have never fallen into the depths of iniquity. Zacchaeus was indeed a sinner: as chief of the publicans (that is, those who collected the taxes for the despised Roman authorities) he was an oppressor of the poor and downtrodden, striving to enrich himself at the expense of those who struggled to barely survive.
So it was that Jesus sought him, picking him out from among the crowd and commanding that he come down from the sycamore tree. The significant fact, however, is that it was Zacchaeus himself who--by his own free will--first climbed that tree, and the reason he did so was because he fervently desired to see Jesus.
On that day salvation came to Zacchaeus' household--not by some arbitrary act of God, but because he sincerely repented, voluntarily promising to give half of his goods to the poor and to restore fourfold whatever he had taken by false accusation.
The fact is, we are all sinners in need of salvation--we are all lost sheep, having wandered far away from the pasture of the good shepherd. The only question is, shall we--like Zacchaeus--choose the path of repentance, or shall we--like the self-righteous Pharisees of old--condemn ourselves to a hell of our own making?
Truly is it written that the angels in heaven rejoice more over the one sinner who is saved than the many who have never fallen into the depths of iniquity. Zacchaeus was indeed a sinner: as chief of the publicans (that is, those who collected the taxes for the despised Roman authorities) he was an oppressor of the poor and downtrodden, striving to enrich himself at the expense of those who struggled to barely survive.
So it was that Jesus sought him, picking him out from among the crowd and commanding that he come down from the sycamore tree. The significant fact, however, is that it was Zacchaeus himself who--by his own free will--first climbed that tree, and the reason he did so was because he fervently desired to see Jesus.
On that day salvation came to Zacchaeus' household--not by some arbitrary act of God, but because he sincerely repented, voluntarily promising to give half of his goods to the poor and to restore fourfold whatever he had taken by false accusation.
The fact is, we are all sinners in need of salvation--we are all lost sheep, having wandered far away from the pasture of the good shepherd. The only question is, shall we--like Zacchaeus--choose the path of repentance, or shall we--like the self-righteous Pharisees of old--condemn ourselves to a hell of our own making?
Sunday, January 26, 2014
HOLY MARTYRS OF SINAI AND RAITHU
"And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them that are called according to His purpose," St. Paul writes to the Romans. Today we commemorate the eighty holy desert dwelling martyrs most hideously slain by bloodthirsty barbarians at Sinai and Raithu in the Fourth Century. Truly they were angels in the flesh, having embraced a life of hardship and deprivation in this bleak and barren wilderness for the sake of Christ, their hearts totally consumed by the love of God.
And so, "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?" Indeed, these grace-filled ascetics endured with superhuman courage every manner of tribulation and distress, peril and the sword, rejoicing that God should deem them worthy of two-fold martyric crowns. "As it is written, for Thy sake we are killed all day long, we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter."
This has been a harsh winter in Wisconsin, a period of suffering and tribulation for many of us. Nevertheless, we know that while life in this vale of tears may be bitter, our Holy Faith assures us that Paradise is sweet. It is only through many trials and hardships that our souls are purified like gold in a furnace and rendered worthy of eternal life in God's heavenly Kingdom.
And so, my dear brothers and sisters in Christ, let us take courage, thanking God from the bottom of our hearts for the manifold afflictions He sends us. Let us pray with fervent desire for the gift of patience, knowing that only he that endures unto the end shall be saved. Even so, "If God is for us, who can be against us?" However small or great our sufferings here below, our minds cannot conceive of those good things God has in store for those who love Him and strive at all times to keep His commandments.
And so, "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?" Indeed, these grace-filled ascetics endured with superhuman courage every manner of tribulation and distress, peril and the sword, rejoicing that God should deem them worthy of two-fold martyric crowns. "As it is written, for Thy sake we are killed all day long, we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter."
This has been a harsh winter in Wisconsin, a period of suffering and tribulation for many of us. Nevertheless, we know that while life in this vale of tears may be bitter, our Holy Faith assures us that Paradise is sweet. It is only through many trials and hardships that our souls are purified like gold in a furnace and rendered worthy of eternal life in God's heavenly Kingdom.
And so, my dear brothers and sisters in Christ, let us take courage, thanking God from the bottom of our hearts for the manifold afflictions He sends us. Let us pray with fervent desire for the gift of patience, knowing that only he that endures unto the end shall be saved. Even so, "If God is for us, who can be against us?" However small or great our sufferings here below, our minds cannot conceive of those good things God has in store for those who love Him and strive at all times to keep His commandments.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Help Thou My Unbelief!
When the Apostles could not cast out the demon from the possessed boy, the
father approaches our Lord and beseeches His help. When Jesus says, "All
things are possible to him that believes," the father replies, "Lord,
I believe; help Thou my unbelief!"
Isn't this how it is for all of us? On a superficial level, we sincerely do
believe, but when push comes to shove, our so-called faith proves to be weak
indeed. The Holy Apostle Peter believed he could walk on water because Jesus
told him to, but suddenly aware of the tumult of the waves, he began to sink.
In times of peace, it is easy to believe, because there is no cost
attached. But when a time of persecution arises and our faith is put to the
test by the threat of martyrdom, we shall find how deep and enduring our faith
really is. The fact is, true faith is always a gift of God's grace, never an
accomplishment for which we can take credit ourselves. So we must possess the
humility of the father in the Gospel and pray, "Help Thou my
unbelief!" or cry like Peter, "Lord, save me!"
Truly whoever dares trust in his own faith and spiritual accomplishments in
times of trial will be lost. Nevertheless, God normally requires an effort on
our part before He bestows a gift of grace. When the Apostles asked Him why they
could not cast out the demon, Jesus replied, "This kind comes out by
naught but prayer and fasting." It is true that we are saved by faith
alone, yet (as the Holy Apostle affirms) "faith without works is
dead." And these works include, among other things, the disciplines of an
ascetic life.
The Kingdom of God is taken by violence, which is to say, we must force
ourselves to do that which is contrary to our fallen human nature, ever
striving for every virtue and the purification of our hearts. Only then can God
give to us a deep and abiding faith that will withstand every storm and
tribulation of this life. In these final days of the Great Fast, then, may we
redouble our efforts to pray and fast, to deny ourselves the sinful impulses of
the passions, and in every way to prepare ourselves to be made worthy to behold
our Lord's glorious Resurrection.
Take up your cross
But the mere act of self-denial is not enough. After all, not only
Christians practice this virtue. What self-denial means for the Christian is
taking on voluntarily (without grumbling or complaining) whatever burdens God
sees fit to lay upon us. As a matter of fact, everyone
has a cross--but only those who cheerfully accept their cross are
considered to have taken it up. Otherwise we are simply enduring against our
will something that has been imposed upon us.
Finally, having taken up our cross, we must resolve to faithfully follow
Christ: otherwise we are nothing more than commendable stoics endowed with a
great measure of patience and courage. Only those who endure till the end for
the sake of Christ without any pride or self-interest shall be saved.
This is indeed the purpose of our whole earthly pilgrimage: it is a school,
a training ground wherein we strive and struggle to become true disciples of
Christ. And the season of the Great Fast is especially the time set aside to
devote ourselves to this struggle. But all of our fasting, prayer and other
spiritual disciplines are pointless unless they are directed toward this end.
The Church provides us with all that is necessary for our salvation, but these
ways and means are never intended to be ends in themselves. Our ultimate goal
is to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul an mind, and our neighbor
as our self.
After all, even the great martyr Ignatius, having endured so much on the
way to Rome where he was to be fed to the lions, wrote to his flock that he had
barely begun to be a disciple. May God grant to us all such humility, meekness,
courage and a spirit of repentance, that we may steadfastly carry our cross and
be made worthy of salvation in God's eternal Kingdom.
The Last Judgement
"Insomuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye
have done it unto Me." So speaks our Lord in the Parable of the Last
Judgment to the sheep on His right hand, those who have fed the hungry, clothed
the naked, and visited the sick and those in prison. Do you see how our Lord
shares the joys and sufferings of the very least of His creatures? Unlike the
Muslim God Allah, He is not a God Who stands afar off, not a mere judge, but a
caring Father Who dwells in the hearts of those who love Him and strive to do
His will. Truly He is closer to us than the very air we breathe.
Nor is this so hard to understand, even from our limited human point of
view. As parents, do we not suffer and rejoice along with our children? Is it
not our greatest happiness that they be happy? And if, as a father, I must
discipline my child, I may say (and truly mean it) that it hurts me more than
them. This is, of course, but a dim reflection of the unconditional love God
has for each and every one of us, a love so vast we cannot begin to comprehend
it in its fullness.
Yet having said all this, is this not the Sunday of the Last Judgment? And
the Gospel minces no words concerning the severity of this judgment. But we
must understand that God's "judgment" is neither arbitrary nor
vindictive, nor does He take pleasure in swooping down upon the sinner and
casting him into hell. That which we call God's judgment is rather the natural
consequence of our actions (or our failure to act). "God does not desire
the death of a sinner, but rather that the sinner turn from his way and
live."
God has, however, given us the gift of free will, and He totally respects
our right to choose--either eternal life in His heavenly Kingdom or eternal
darkness apart from Him. If we choose to love God and to set aside our own
selfish interests and desires, it will follow as night follows day that we will
love our neighbor and show compassion on those in need.
Today we also celebrate the holy New Martyrs of Russia, those faithful
Christians who fell victim to the godless Soviet regime. Now the judgment of
God upon Holy Russia was also the natural consequence of a falling away from
God, but thanks to the steadfast love and witness of the martyrs and the
repentance of the faithful, the power of evil and darkness has finally been
vanquished and a new day of renewal has dawned for the Church of Russia. Let us
not forget, however, the prophetic words of blessed Seraphim of Platina:
"What began in Russia will end in America." We have also, as a
nation, largely fallen away from God and it is likely that this same judgment
will fall upon us. May we, like the New Martyrs of Russia, remain steadfast in
the Faith and courageously bear witness to the truth and power of God's love.
The Prodigal Son
In the Parable of the Prodigal Son, a young man asks his father to be given ahead of time his share of the inheritance. The father agrees, though no doubt he knew the character of his son and realized that the course chosen would probably lead to disastrous consequences. The father in this parable, of course, represents our Heavenly Father, Who always respects the free will of his creatures and often grants that which we desire and pray for--knowing full well that we will live to regret it. (Thus the saying: "Be careful what you pray for: you may get it!")
Having received his inheritance, the son leaves his father's house and sets
off for a far country (which represents life in this fallen world lived apart
from God). Once he arrives, the son gives himself over to a life of riotous
living--wine, women and songs. But because he doesn't get a job and has no
source of income, he very soon finds himself completely broke. In spiritual
terms, he does not strive to acquire those virtues necessary for salvation, that
is, "treasure in heaven." To make matters worse, there arises a
famine in that country so that there is nothing to eat, even if one had the
money to buy it. So it is with the frivolous pleasures of this world: they soon
leave us spiritually starving, since we are no longer receiving the sustenance
of God's grace.
He's so destitute that he's finally forced to take a job, feeding corn
husks to a local farmer's swine. Apparently this isn't much of a job, though,
since he is not even allowed to eat a portion of the husks. In this dire state,
he finally "comes to himself." (That is, he repents). He realizes how
foolish he was to leave the security of this father's house. After all, even
his father's servants have more than enough to eat and a roof over their heads.
So he decides then and there that he will return to his father and ask to
become one of his hired servants. He carefully rehearses what he will say to
his father and sets off.
But when he is still a good distance from the house, the father sees him
approaching and runs to greet him with a warm and loving embrace. Finally the
son addresses his father with the words he had rehearsed, but the father reacts
as though he hasn't even heard him. He orders his servants to honor his son and
to organize a party to celebrate the son's return.
Now such unconditional acceptance was totally unexpected, and is in fact
unlikely to occur in this fallen world. The mind of God, however, does not
operate on the same level as ours. God's ways are not our ways. In Him there is
no calculation, no remembrance of wrongs, no desire for revenge or reservations
concerning the "worthiness" of a person. In Him there is no past to
"remember," only the eternal present in which he encounters each
unique person face to face. For in God the are no emotions, only a consuming
love and a desire for the salvation of all His children.
The point is, we are all called to put on the mind of Christ, to strive to
relate to others as God relates to us. Every one of us is a prodigal, but if we
sincerely repent and resolve in our hearts to return to our heavenly homeland,
God will meet us more than half way and treat us as though we had never left
his presence. Indeed, there is more joy in heaven over a single sinner who
repents than over ninety nine righteous ones. True, we may well have to suffer
certain natural consequences for our time of riotous living, but God Himself
doesn't punish us, nor is His love for us in any way diminished.
So then, if God receives prodigals such as us with such unconditional love,
how can we not forgive and forget the sins and offenses of an erring brother?
And if he repents, shall we not joyfully embrace him and celebrate his return?
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