Tag Archives: 6th Sunday of Pascha

Witnesses to Beauty

Sunday, May 13 (O.S., April 30), 2018: Sixth Sunday of Pascha; Sunday of the Blind Man; Holy Apostle James, the brother of St. John the Theologian (44); St. Donatus, bishop of Euroea (387); Uncovering of the relics of Hieromartyr Basil, bishop of Amasea (322). Martyr Maximus.

Epistle: Acts 16:16-34
Gospel: John 9:1-38

Christ is Risen!

St Paul tells the Church at Ephesus that they are to speak “the truth in love.” He tells them this so that they might not be “tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the trickery of men” and “in the cunning craftiness of deceitful plotting.”

And they are to speak the truth in love so that they

…may grow up in all things into Him who is the head—Christ— from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by what every joint supplies, according to the effective working by which every part does its share, causes growth of the body for the edifying of itself in love (see Ephesians 4:14-16, NKJV).

We need to pay close attention to what the Apostle says here.

The command to speak “the truth in love” is not something we do to draw others to Christ. Speaking “the truth in love” is essential for our own salvation, own growth in Christ and spiritual maturity.

Compare this to the idea that, as I’ve heard more than one Orthodox Christian say, “The most loving thing I can do is to tell someone the truth.” Did you catch the difference?

Paul says that for your own salvation and to become more like Christ, let love guide your words. This is different from the rather crass assumption that my words are loving because they are true and I’m telling you something for your own good.

The naked expression of the truth is not loving. Far from it. It is simply a means of gaining power over others by shaming them. Rarely, if ever, are the people who say the most loving thing you can do is to tell someone the truth open to such “love” themselves.

Look at the reading today from Acts.

The slave girl is saying something which is indubitably true. St Paul and his companions “are the servants of the Most High God, who proclaim to us the way of salvation.” And yet, as events unfold, we discover that while what is said is true, it is said not “in love” but because of demonic possession. The girl says something true in the service of extending the power of demons.

Her owners, by the way, are fine with this. They are happy to see this girl enslaved to a demon because it makes them rich. They are willing to grow wealthy by enslaving not only the girl’s body but also her soul.

And in all this, she tells the truth but she does so without love.

Compare the situation of the slave and her owners with what happens at the end of today’s reading.

A “great earthquake” opens all the doors of the prison freeing all the prisoner. Because of this, the jailer is prepared to commit suicide rather than face the consequences of allowing the prisoners to escape.

But what does Paul do?

At the cost of his own freedom, he remains in his cell with Silas and cries out to his jailer: “Do yourself no harm, for we are all here.”

Speaking the “the truth in love” is salvific because it puts the good of my neighbor before my own. To speak “the truth in love” means that I sacrifice myself for you. And it is this sacrifice for others that join us ever closer together in Christ and which fosters our spiritual maturity.

What, though, does it mean–concretely–to speak “the truth in love”? We get a glimpse in today’s Gospel.

While the text says Jesus restored the man’s sight, this isn’t strictly speaking true. The man was, after all, born blind. He didn’t live in darkness because, never having seen light, he had no understanding of its absence.

While he felt the sun on his face, he never saw its light. He felt the wind but never saw trees bend. He felt the rain but never saw clouds.

And then is one amazing moment–and for the first time in his life–the man born blind saw the beauty of creation. And he saw this beauty not gradually but in an instant!

He saw the sun he only felt.

He saw the trees bend in the wind.

He saw the clouds that carried the rain.

All around him and all at once, he saw the beauty of creation. And, in that same instant, he saw the face of Jesus, of God become Man.

To speak “the truth in love” is to heal the blindness of the human heart. It is to reveal to others a beauty that, like the blind man, they could not even imagine.

To reveal this beauty to you, I must first see it you, in creation, in myself and in God. That which is True, and for that matter what is Just and Good, is Beautiful.

And because Truth is one, if I can’t–or won’t–see the beauty in one part of creation, I can’t see the beauty elsewhere. If I can’t see beauty here, I can’t see it there; if I can’t see it in you, I can’t see it in myself and I certainly can’t see it in God.

Or rather, I fail to see the beauty around me and in me because I fail to see it in God Who is the Uncreated Source of all the is Good, True, Just and yes Beautiful.

Why does beauty matter? Because it is in the nature of beauty, of beautiful things, to attract us. To speak “the truth in love” is to make manifest not simply the beauty of the Gospel but of the person to whom we speak.

And. as I said, I can’t do this unless I have grasped something of the beauty of God and creation, of my neighbor and myself.

My brothers and sisters in Christ! God has called us to reveal beauty to the world. We are here, in this small and poor room today, for no other purpose. This is why we concern ourselves with, among other things, not only being the Church but building a church. So that we can through our words and deeds reveal the Beauty of God to the world.

May God bring to completion the good work He has started in us.

Christ is Risen!

+Fr Gregory

Homily: Transformed by the Divine Light

Sunday, May 21, 2017: Sunday of the Blind Man; Constantine and Helen, Equal-to-the Apostles,Constantine and Helen, Equal-to-the Apostles, Pachomios the Righteous New Martyr

Epistle: Acts 26:1, 12-20
Gospel:John 9:1-38

Christ is Risen!

The Scriptures see blindness as having two, fundamental meanings. Like deafness, blindness is both a terrible physical affliction, It is also a sign humanity’s estrangement from God. For example,in the Prophet Isaiah, God complains about the spiritual indifference of the leaders of Israel: ““Hear, you deaf and look, you blind, that you may see. Who is blind but My servant, or deaf as My messenger whom I send? Who is blind as he who is perfect, and blind as the Lord’s servant? Seeing many things, but you do not observe; opening the ears, but he does not hear” (Isaiah 42: 18-20, NKJV).

Likewise, in the New Testament, Jesus often calls the Pharisees “blind guides” who will not only fall into a pit themselves but causes others to do so as well (Matthew 15:14). These “blind guides” are also morally obtuse confuse the means God has given us to grow in holiness with holiness itself (Matthew 23:16-26).

Following the biblical tradition St John Cassian says that anger isn’t a matter of affect, it isn’t a feeling. Cassian’s understanding of anger as spiritual blindness. As for the feelings I associate with being angry, these are the symptoms that I’m numb to the presence of God in my life. They reveal to me that I’m blind to the presence of God in my life.

Symptomatic of this blindness, as St Paul tells St Timothy, is to have “a form of godliness” while nevertheless “denying its power.” We are, St Paul says, to “turn away” from such people who instead of preaching the Gospel “creep into households and make captives of gullible women.” Rather than repent, these blind guides are “ loaded down with sins, led away by various lusts, always learning and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth” (2 Timothy 3:5-7, NKJV).

While Jesus will,as we see in today’s Gospel, sometimes heal physical blindness, His fundamental mission is to heal the human heart of its insensitivity to the presence of God in human affairs. It’s easy for me to identify others who are blind to God’s grace and mercy. My real fault is that I overlook my own blindness. I need to learn and accept that Jesus comes not simply to heal you but me as well. The word spoken through Isaiah to the leaders of Israel and by Jesus to the scribes and the Pharisees is spoken to each of us.

Like the scribes and the Pharisees I’m blind because I’m a sinner. It is this spiritual blindness to the presence and mercy of God that is the singular source not only of my anger but also my despair and my many lapses in, and offenses against, charity.

There is, however, another form of blindness that isn’t the result my sinfulness but of the brilliance of God’s grace. The Apostle Paul describes this grace in his defense King Agrippa as “a light from heaven, brighter than the sun.”

St Gregory of Nyssa in The Life of Moses, describes this second blindness as “luminous darkness.” He says that “Scripture teaches” the knowledge of God “comes at first to those who receive it as light.” This why, he says, anything contrary to the Gospel is called “ darkness, and the escape from darkness comes about when one participates in light.”

As we grew in the spiritual life, we experience a change.As we grow in our intimacy with God, we come to see that “the true knowledge” of God “consists in not seeing, because that which is sought transcends all knowledge.” It is because in contemplation we come to experience to limits of reason, that the experience of God is “a kind of darkness.”

This wholly positive and illuminating blindness is the result of God drawing close to the soul. This new blindness is like the momentary blindness that comes from looking directly at the Sun. This second blindness is source of not just of humility, but also hope in God, charity for others, and the faith needed to proclaim the Gospel with the courage of the martyrs. This, second blindness, is the experience of being overwhelmed by the brilliant light of God’s beauty. It is the experience of this second blindness that transform Saul ,the Persecutor of the Church, into St Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles

Unfortunately, many in the Church today don’t actively pursue the kind of intimacy that St Gregory describes. Too many of us are content with knowledge about God rather than have knowledge of God. Of the former, Gregory says that “The man who thinks that God can be known does not really have life.” Why? Because he knows not the One, True God but only a facsimile of God “devised by his own imagination.”

Whether willingly or not, the individual who has only an abstract knowledge about God is spiritually crippled. For all that they may know about the canons, or liturgy, or Church history, they don’t understand that all that God has given us, He has given us for one reason, and one reason only, to inspire in the soul a desire for God that “never ceases.”

For St Gregory of Nyssa and for the Tradition of the Church, be a disciple of Jesus Christ, to center our life around His Persona and shape our life according to His teaching and example, means continually grow in our desire to draw close to God.

My brothers and sisters in Christ! Listen again to the Gospel we heard this morning. When the blind man is healed, the restoration of his sight inspires the man not only to witness to Jesus Christ but to seek Him out:

Jesus heard that they had cast him out, and having found him he said, “Do you believe in the Son of man?” He answered, “And who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?” Jesus said to him, “You have seen him, and it is he who speaks to you.” He said, “Lord, I believe”: and he worshiped him.

Let us this morning, and everyday going forward, strive to lay aside our anger, our despair, our lapses in charity and instead draw close to the God Who has drawn close to us in the Scriptures, the sacraments, the worship and the tradition of the Church.

Let us, like St Paul, not be “disobedient to the heavenly vision” but rather ly aside our sins and turn to God, offering to Him “deeds worthy of … repentance.”

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory