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Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh CHRISTMAS 7 January 1989
In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
In one of the texts of the Holy Scriptures we are told that the world
had waxed old, had decayed in the course of centuries since man had
lost touch with God, since communion between God and man had
become dimmed. And Saint Paul says that the whole creation is waiting
with longing for the revelation of the children of God, for the moment
when man will have become Man again in the fullness, in all the beauty
of the glory of his vocation.
And on the day when we remember the Nativity of Christ, the
Incarnation of the Son of God, we can see that the beginning of a new
time has come, that this world that had gone old because God was, as it
were, far away from it - great, awe-inspiring but distant, had come to an
end. GOD IS IN OUR MIDST: this is the meaning of the word
Emmanuel; God with us - and the world is no longer the same. We live in a world into which God has come, in which He is the living power,
the inspiration, Life itself, Eternity itself already come. And this is why
Saint John the Divine in the Book of the Revelation, speaking of Christ
as the End, uses in Greek not the neuter which would be right, but the
masculine: because The End is not a moment in time, the End is not something that happens, but Someone that comes.
Yes, we are waiting for the day when God will come in glory, when
all history will be up, when all things will be summed up, when God
shall be all in all; but already now God is in our midst; already now we
have a vision of what man is by vocation and can be by participation.
But this is an offer; God gives His love, God gives Himself - not only in
the Holy Gifts of Communion, but in all possible ways He is ready to
enter into our lives, to fill our hearts, to be enthroned in our minds, to be
the will of our will, but to do that, to allow Him to do that we must give
ourselves to Him, we must respond to love by love, to faith - the faith
which God has in us - by faith that is trust and faithfulness to Him. And
then - then, we, each of us singly and all of us in our togetherness, will
become God's Kingdom come with power, the beginning of the fullness
of time, the beginning of the glorious victory!
Isn't that something which is worth struggling for? Isn't it worth
turning away from everything that separates us from our own integrity,
from one another, from God, and allow ourselves to become new
creatures?
Let us now, now that the beginning has come, and in a way the end is
already in our midst, let us do it: overcome all that is unworthy of
ourselves and allow God victoriously to transfigure our lives! Glory be
to God for His love! Glory be to God for the faith He has in us, and for
the hope He has put into us! Amen!
Metropolitan Anthony Sourozh
NATIVITY OF CHRIST
7 January 1990
In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
We are keeping a Feast which is the decisive point in the history not
only of mankind but of the whole Cosmos. God, the Living God has
taken flesh, thereby becoming a man among men, and yet, revealing to
us all the greatness, all the immensity of what man is; but at the same
time uniting Himself to a human body that stands as an image of all
things created. He has become akin to all the materiality of this world:
everything, beginning with the smallest atom and ending with the
greatest galaxy can now recognise itself fulfilled, revealed in glory in
the Body of Incarnation.
But we must also ask ourselves questions about ourselves. Because
God has called us to enter into this mystery of communion with God;
God has called us to understand the way in which we can become
partakers of the divine nature, to use the words of Saint Peter in one of
his Epistles. Let us therefore cast a glance at the people involved in this
glorious, mysterious night of the Incarnation:
The Mother of God, perfectly surrendered, perfectly given to God in
all Her purity and in all Her humility; a Living Offering capable of
uniting Herself to God in such a way that He became flesh. One day in
history, a maiden of Israel proved capable of bowing down before the
greatness of God, and receiving what cannot be received otherwise than
in humility and obedience. She was able to pronounce the Name of God
in worship with all Her mind, and heart, and flesh - and God became
man in Her.
And we all are called to open ourselves to God, we all are called to
let God enter into our lives, fill each of us - and this happens incipiently,
almost imperceptibly when we receive Communion. We become
partakers of His humanity and the dwelling place of His divinity. If we
only could with greater depth, greater faith, and indeed greater
faithfulness keep the gift of this Communion...
And then, there is Joseph; Joseph who is bewildered both by the
message of the Angel and by what is happening; bewildered - at time in
wonder, and at time in doubt. Isn't this an image of many of us? But how
did he face his doubt and still remain in wonder? Because he believed;
because he accepted the fact that there are many things which cannot be
understood with the intellect, but can be perceived, which can be
experienced. And he did, indeed, experienced what was going on: he
saw. He saw the Virgin birth, he saw the presence of the God Who have
become man.
And what is our way, how can we find our way towards God? Let us
think of the Magi and of the shepherds.
The Magi were people of knowledge, people of science; but it is not
science that gave them wisdom; it its the contemplation of the created
world and their gradual, ever-deepening wonder before what they saw;
and the more they knew, the humbler they were, the more they knew,
the more open they were to all that God would reveal to them about the
depth, the mystery, the beauty, and the terrifying depths of the created.
And because they were full of wonder, because they were open to the
discovery of the unknown, of the unthinkable, they were brought to that
place, where the unthinkable has taken place: the incarnation of God.
And then, there were the shepherds, men without knowledge, but they
had purity of heart; they had simplicity; they were capable of listening to
the message which the Angels brought not only with their ears, but with
their inmost self; they recognised the truth of the message because it
gave them life, joy, hope - and they found Christ.
And what is the Incarnation about if it is not about the love of God?
And it is revealed to us in a way in which all love can reveal itself to us:
surrendered, frail, totally within our power to destroy and to hurt; this
Babe of Bethlehem is the perfect image of love, given, but perhaps,
received by the ones - and indeed, as we know, rejected by the others.
And so is the love of God. God created us in order that we might be
loved by Him with all His being; and in this, He accepted beforehand
the Crucifixion, because He gave us power to reject His love. We see
that now exemplified in Christ, in the Incarnation, in God becoming
Man. The Gospel speaks of it: the few responded to the love of God, the
many passed Him by, and many shouted, Crucify Him, crucify Him!, because the message of love, of that love which is God's love, the total
gift of self was too much: it had to be erased in favour of selfish, limited
love - if that can be called love.
Let us therefore try to learn from the people who were there: from the
Mother of God and Her perfect freedom to give Herself, and Her perfect
generosity in doing so; Her perfect ability to believe, to trust God at any
cost, at all risks. Let us think of Joseph between wonder and doubt; and
when we are in the same position, let us not only concentrate on our
doubt, but look with wonder at the impossible, unthinkable that is God's
way in our midst.
And then, let us learn, when we face the world that surround us, dark
and mysterious, so deep, so frightening, so entrancing also, - let us learn
to look at it with wonder: not to pass judgments, but look, look so
deeply as to see its depth and the meaning of things. And this we can do
ultimately only if we learn to have a pure heart, to cleanse ourselves
from selfishness, from hatred, from everything that is darkness in our
souls and in our lives.
And than we also, sooner or later, or rather from time to time, will
find ourselves face to face with the love of God, offering itself to us
frail, vulnerable, awaiting from us a response: let us then give this
response.
But this response is to be given not only to God Whom we do not see,
but to everyone who surrounds us, because Christ has said to us,
Whatever you have done to one of these, you have done to Me. It is by loving concretely, actively, generously, at a cost those whom God sends
us, those whom we meet in life that we can learn that love, the love of
God. Amen.
Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh
BAPTISM OF CHRIST
18 January 1979
In the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.
When a human enters into the world, he enters from nowhere, from
total, radical absence enters through the gates of time in order to grow
into eternity. He enters an ephemeral world in order to become citizen of
Gods Kingdom. When Christ was born, the Eternal entered into the narrow limits of time; He Who was immensity itself was limited by
space and became a man in the flesh although the fullness of the
Godhead abided, dwelt in this human frame. He entered into a world of
sin in order to overcome sin, and in a world of suffering to endure it all
together with us.
But on the day of His Incarnation God delivered unto us in the frailty of
the child of Bethlehem the fullness of His love, and love is always
defenseless and frail, abandoned and surrendered. It was an act of God
by which He gave Himself to us and in which the humanity of the
Incarnate Son of God was helplessly delivered into the history of
mankind.
When we are baptised, we are plugged into waters that cleanse us from
sin. When Christ came unto Jordan, He came sinless, but this time in the
maturity of manhood, at a point at which His human will, identified with
the will of God, made Him a self-offering; He brought Himself there to
begin, to start the way to the Cross. Thousands were baptised in the
Jordan, and each of them proclaimed his sins, and these waters of Jordan
were heavy with the murderous sins of men. Christ had no sin to
proclaim and to confess, and when He entered into these waters of
Jordan, He entered, to use an image of a contemporary divine, as one
plunges, walks into a dye He was dyed with the darkness of our sins. He came out of it carrying all the sins of the world. He came out of the
waters of Jordan loaded with the condemnations that lay upon the world.
And there is the time when He begins His ascent to the Cross.
We are now keeping the feast of the Baptism of Christ, a dread event, an
event that should keep us spellbound, in awe: Him Who is pure shares
the impurity of sin universal so that He may save us. We will bless the
waters, the natural waters that surround us and pray the Lord to send
upon these waters grace and blessing for them to become pure and holy,
endowed with the power to cleanse and to renew, to make us and all the
objects and all the places where they will be sprinkled, partakers of this
purity of the waters of Jordan who had touched the holy body of the
Incarnation, which had taken upon Himself all the evil of world. So let
us pray that the grace of the Spirit of God may come upon these waters
and that they may be truly blessing and salvation by the power of Christ,
by the power and dwelling of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Metropolitan Anthony Sourozh
ZACCHAEUS
20 JANUARY 1991
In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
In these weeks of preparation for Lent, we were faced last Sunday
with the story of Barthimaeus to attract our attention on our own
blindness; our spiritual blindness of which we are not aware while
physical blindness is so clearly perceived; but also on the fact that if we
want to recover our sight, our spiritual vision, our understanding of self,
of God, of our neighbour, of life, there is only one person to whom we
can turn - it is God, our Lord Jesus Christ. Bartimaeus have tried all
means to recover his sight, but it is only when he turned to Christ that he
did recover it.
Whether we have taken advantage of the past week to reflect deeply
on our own blindness, and in the darkness to begin to see some light, I
do not know; each of us will have to answer for his eagerness or his
laziness.
But today we are confronted with a new parable, or rather, a new
story of the life of Christ: the story of Zacchaeus. This story speaks to us
again directly and the question which is been asked from us is this:
What matters to me more? The good opinion of people around me, that
people should not jeer at you, laugh at you because you are seeking to
see God, to meet Him, or the necessity, the inner call to discover
everything provided you can see Christ face to face? Is vanity stronger
in us or the hunger for God? And Saint John of the Ladder says clearly
that vanity is contempt of God and cowardice before men. What is our
attitude: are we prepared to discard everything, provided we can meet
God - or not? And in our circumstances it is not so much people who
will prevent us, people will not jeer at us, they will not laugh at us: they
will be totally indifferent; but this does not mean that we like beggars
not turn to them, hoping for their approval, and in order to receive this
approval, turn away from our search, from the only thing that can heal
us and give us new life.
Also, we will find within ourselves conflicting voices, saying, Don't!
Don't make yourself ridiculous! Don't single yourself out by a search
which is not necessary; you have got everything... Zacchaeus was rich,
Zacchaeus was known as an honorable citizen - so are we! We possess
so much, we are respected - are we going to start on a road that will
make us into what Paul calls 'the scum of the earth, debase us? This is the question which today's story of Zacchaeus says to us: is vanity, that
is the search of things which are vain, empty, and the fear of other
people's opinion that will prevail, or the hunger each of us has, at times,
acute for a meeting with the living God? Amen.
Metropolitan Anthony Sourozh
THE PUBLICAN AND THE PHARISEE
4 February 1990
In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
How short, and how well known is today's parable, and yet, how
intense its message, how challenging.
Intense it is in its very words. Two men come into the church of God,
into a sacred realm which in a world that is lost to God belongs to Him
unreservedly, into His Divine Realm. And one of the men walks boldly
into it, takes a stand before God. The other one comes, and doesn't even
dare cross the threshold: he is a sinner, and the Realm is holy, like the
space around the Burning Bush in the desert which Moses could not
enter without having unshod his feet, otherwise than in adoration and
the fear of God.
And how different the words spoken! Apparently the Pharisee praises
God, he gives Him glory - but for what? Because He has made a man
like him, a man so holy, so worthy of Him, of God; a man who not only
keeps all the commandments of the Law, but goes beyond of what God
Himself has commanded and can expect of man. Indeed, he stands
before God praising Him, that he, the Pharisee, is so wonderful that he is
God's own glory, the shining, the revelation of Gods holiness.
The Publican does not even dare enter into the holy Realm of God.
And the parable is clear: the man who came and stood brokenhearted,
ashamed of himself, knowing that he is unworthy of entering this sacred
space goes back home forgiven, loved, indeed: accompanied by God
Himself Who came into the world to save sinners and Who stands by
everyone who needs Him, who recognises his need for salvation.
The Pharisee goes home, but he goes home less forgiven; his
relationship with God is not the same; he is at the center, God is
peripheric to him; he is at the heart of things, God is subservient to him.
It does not mean that what he did was worthless; it simply means that as
far as he is concerned, it has born no fruit of holiness in himself. The
deeds were good, but they were spoiled, poisoned by pride, by self-
assertion; the beauty of what he did was totally marred because it was
addressed neither to God nor to his neighbour; it was turned in on
himself. And we are told that this pride has despoiled this man, has
taken away from him the fruits of his good works, the fruit of his
outward faithfulness to the law of God, that only humility could have
given him and his action full meaning, that only humility could have
made his actions into life, into the waters of life gushing into eternity.
But then, the question stands before us: how can we learn anything
about humility if that is the absolute condition to be not like the barren
fig tree, but fruitful, to be rich harvest and from whom people can be
fed?
I do not think that we can move from pride, vanity into humility in a
single unless something so tragic happens to us that we see ourselves,
we discover ourselves completely bereft of everything that supported
our sinful, destructive, barren condition. But there is one thing which we
can do: however much we think that we are possessed of gifts of all
sorts of heart and mind, of body and soul, however fruitful our action
may be, we can remember the words of Saint Paul: O, man! What have
you got which was not given you?!.. And indeed, he echoes at this point
what Christ said in the first Beatitude, the Beatitude that opens the door
to all other Beatitudes, the Beatitude which is the beginning of
understanding: Blessed are the poor in spirit... Blessed are those who
know, not only with their intellect - but at least with their intellect! - that
they are nothing, and they possess nothing which is not a gift of God.
We were called into being out of naught, without our participation:
our very existence is a gift! We were given life which we could not
create, call out of ourselves. We have been given the knowledge of the
existence of God, and indeed, a deeper, more intimate knowledge of
God - all that is gift! And then, all that we are is a gift of God: our body,
our heart, our mind, our soul - what power have we got over them when
God does no longer sustain them? The greatest intelligence can of a
sudden be swallowed into darkness by a stroke; there are moments when
we are confronted with a need that requires all our sympathy, all our
love - and we discover that our hearts are of stone and of ice... We want
to do good - and we cannot; and Saint Paul knew it already when he
said: The good which I love, I don't do, and the wrong which I hate I do
continuously... And our body depends on so many things!
And what of our relationships, of the friendship which is given us, the
love which sustains us, the comradeship - everything that we are and
which we possess is a gift: what is the next move: isn't it gratitude?
Cant we turn to God not as a pharisee, priding ourselves of what we are and forgetting that all that is HIS, but turning to God and saying: O,
God! All that is a gift from You! all that beauty, intelligence, a sensitive
heart, all the circumstances of life are a gift! Indeed, all those
circumstances, even those which frighten us are a gift because God says
to us: I trust you enough to send you into the darkness to bring light! I
send you into corruption to be the salt that stops corruption! I send you
where there is no hope to bring hope, where there is no joy to bring joy,
no love to bring love... and one could go on, on, on, seeing that when we
are send into the darkness it is to be God's presence and God's life, and
that means that He trusts us - He trusts us, He believes in us, He hopes
for us everything: isn't that enough to be grateful?
But gratitude is not just a cold word of thanks; gratitude means that
we wish to make Him see that all that was not given in vain, that He did
not become man, lived, died in vain; gratitude means a life that could
give joy to God: this is a challenge of this particular parable.
Yes, the ideal would be for us to be humble - but what is humility?
Who of us knows, and if someone knows, who can communicate it to
everyone who doesnt know? But gratitude we all know; we know small ways and small aspects of it! Let us reflect on it, and, let us in an act of
gratitude recognise that we have no right to be in Gods own realm - and He lets us in! We have no right to commune to Him either in prayer, or
in sacrament - and He calls us to commune with Him! We have no right
to be His children, to be brothers and sisters of Christ, to be the dwelling
place of the Spirit - and He grants it all in an act of love!
Let each of us reflect and ask himself: in what way can he or she be
so grateful in such a way that God could rejoice that He has not given in
vain, been in vain, lived and died in vain, that we have received the
message. And if we grow in a true depth of gratitude, at the depth of
gratitude we will knock down, adore the Lord, and learn what humility
is not abasement, but adoration, the awareness that He is all we possess,
all that we are, and that we are open to Him like the earth, the rich earth
is open to the plough, to the sowing, to the seed, to the sunshine, to the
rain, to everything in order to bring fruit. Amen!
Metropolitan Anthony Sourozh
SUNDAY OF THE PRODIGAL SON
19 February 1984
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
Time and again I have occasion to preach on the Parable of the
Prodigal Son, on the story of the Publican and the Pharisee, and every
time I notice how easy it is for me - not in fact, not in reality, but in
imagination - to identify with the sinner who has found his way to God,
with the publican who stood broken-hearted at the gate of the church,
unable to walk even into the holy space of God, or with the prodigal
son, who in spite of grievous sin, of incredible insensitiveness, of
cruelty, still found his way home.
And how rarely I was touched to the quick by the destiny of the
pharisee, by the destiny of the elder son - yet, God condemned neither of
the two. About the publican He said: And this man went home more
forgiven, more blessed than the other one. He did not say that the
pharisee went without the love of God accompanying him, that God was
forgetting his faithfulness, his sense of dutiful obedience.
And again today we find ourselves face-to-face with the elder son.
All his life he had lived side-by-side with his father, all his life he had
made his father's interests his concern - he had worked hard, faithfully,
forgetful of self, without paying attention to tiredness, without claiming
any reward just because he felt it was right to do so. There was
something indeed lacking in him - a warmth, a tenderness, a joy in his
father. But there was one thing which is so impressive in him - his
faithfulness; in spite of the fact that his heart was not aglow, he
remained faithful. In spite of the fact that he received no visible reward
or no visible acknowledgement he remained faithful, he worked, as he
says - he slaved.
How hard we are when we think of him as of one who deserves little
of our sympathy; but how few of us are capable of being so faithful, so
perfectly and steadily obedient to the call of duty as he was when we are
not met with recognition, do not hear a word of encouragement, do not
receive the slightest reward because, as the father did with regard to the
elder son, those who surround us, those whom we serve, for whom we
slave perhaps, those whose interest is at the very centre of our life, take
it for granted. Isn't it natural? Isn't he my son? Isn't he my father? Isn't
he my brother? Isn't he my spouse? Isn't he my friend? Doesn't all this
imply total, unlimited devotion which is its own reward?
How cruel we are so often to the people who surround us and who are
put by us in the position of the elder son - never recognised and always
expected to do the right thing unflinchingly and perfectly.
Indeed, the prodigal son had warmth, the prodigal son had come back
broken-hearted, he was ready to become new, while the other one could
only go on, plod on with his stem faithfulness; unless - unless,
confronted with the father's compassion, he understood what it meant
that his younger brother had been truly dead and had come to life, had
been truly lost and was found.
Let us think of ourselves. We, all of us, have someone around us
whom we treat with the same coldness with which we think of the elder
brother; but also all of us have someone whom we treat as
contemptuously and harshly as the elder brother treated his younger
brother whom he had written off, who was no brother to him; he had
been unfaithful to their father, he was unforgivable. And yet, here was
the father, the victim of the son's rejection, light-mindedness, cruelty,
who forgave wholeheartedly and tenderly.
Let us find our own place in this tragic and beautiful parable because
then we may find our way, either out of being the elder son, though
perhaps so much less dutiful, so much less honest, so much less devoted
to the interests of our father, our friends, our relatives; or else perhaps,
can we find in our heart a creative sympathy for the younger son and
learn from him first that there is never a situation out of which a honest
repentance, a turn-about cannot bring us and that there is one at least -
God - and probably one person, or many, who are ready to receive us,
redeem us, restore us and allow us to begin a new life together - father,
younger and elder brother. Amen.
Metropolitan Anthony Sourozh
Sunday of the Last Judgement
Sunday, March 6, 1994.
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
More than once does the Gospel give us a warning on the way in
which we shall be judged and on the way in which we can save
ourselves from condemnation. There is a passage of the Gospel in which
the Lord says: It is not everyone who will have called Me 'Lord, Lord'
who will enter the Kingdom of Heaven. There will be such who will
come to Me and say, Have we not broken bread in the precincts of Thy
Temple? Have we not prayed, have we not sung Thy glory? And I shall
say to them: Go away from me doers of iniquity.
So, it is not by outward signs of piety that we shall find salvation.
The Gospel which we read on the Day of the Publican and the Pharisee
already tells us something about this. The pharisee had been faithful in
everything outwardly, but inwardly he had remained cold and dead to
the only thing that matters - loving. He might have said to the Lord: But
have I not prayed so often in Thy Temple? He would have heard the
words which I quoted a moment ago, and he might have remembered
also a passage from the Old Testament that says that the prayer of one
who does not forgive his brother is abomination before the face of the
Lord.
And so we are confronted to-day with the Gospel of the Last
Judgement. A day will come, and it may not be after we die, it may be at
a moment when we are suddenly illumined, when light comes into our
mind, that we will ask ourselves: Where is salvation? Can I hope for
anything at all? We have had the first answer to this question in the
person of the publican. He could pride himself on nothing, nothing at
all. He was a traitor to his nation, he was greedy, he was unworthy of his
people, of the Testament that was the rule of the nation. And yet, he
realized that he was totally, utterly, hopelessly unworthy, and he stood,
not daring even to enter the Temple, because the Temple was the place
where the Lord lives, a place as holy as God's presence makes it; and he
beat his breast saying: Forgive me; I am a sinner. That is a first step
towards forgiveness, towards a healing of our life and soul.
To-day we are confronted with something else. It is not strict
adherence to forms of life; it is not piety, the kind of piety which one
can put in inverted commas; it is not praying if we pray unworthily, that
saves us. The Lord at the Last Judgement, as it appears clearly from this
passage of the Gospel, will ask us nothing about the tenets of our faith,
or about the way in which we have tried outwardly to please Him. He
will ask us: Have you been human, or inhuman? When you saw
someone who was hungry, did your heart turn to him in compassion and
did you give him food? When you saw someone homeless, did you think
of a way of providing a roof and a little warmth and safety for him?
When we were told that someone, perhaps someone we knew, had
disgraced himself and been put into prison, did we overcome the shame
of being his or her friend, and go to visit him? When we saw someone to
whom we could give the surplus of what we have, the unnecessary coat,
the unnecessary object which we possessed - did we turn and do that?
That is all the Lord is asking concerning the Last Judgement.
As I said before, His only question is: have you been human in the
simplest way in which any pagan can be human? Anyone can be human
who has a heart that can respond. If you have, then the doors are open
for you to enter into the Kingdom and to become by communion with
God, not sacramental communion, but a deeper communion even than
the Sacrament, become one with Him and grow into being the Temple
of the Spirit, the Body of Christ, a place of His incarnate presence.
But if we have been inhuman, how can we think of being divine?
How can we think of being partakers of the Divine Nature, of being like
Christ, possessed of the Holy Spirit, alive for eternity? None of these
can be true. And today, we are confronted with the Judgement, with this
clarity, this sharpness and His mercy. Because God is merciful; He
warns us in time. It takes one moment to change one's life. It is one
moment that is needed, not years, so that the oldest of us can in one
moment see the ugliness, the horror, the emptiness, the evil of our lives,
and turn to God with a cry, crying for mercy. And the youngest can
learn now that it is time, step by step, to be simply human. If we are
human, then we become the friends of God, because to be a Christian
means to choose Christ for one's friend. And you know what friendship
means; it means solidarity, it means loyalty, it means faithfulness, it
means being at one in soul, in heart, in action with the one who is our
friend. This is the choice we all have made, seemingly, and forgotten so
often.
So to-day we are confronted with this Gospel of the Judgement. But
we can do something now to face it. After the Service, at the doors,
there will be a collection for "Crisis". "Crisis" is an organization which
looks after those who are homeless and have to live on the streets, who
depend on the passer-by to have a chance to eat, who depend on the
mercy of people. Well, face today's reading of the Gospel. Face it not
only emotionally but in fact, and when you are confronted with a plate at
the doors of the Church, give, give generously, give with your whole
heart, give as you would wish to be given if you were in the street,
unprotected, alone, hoping beyond hope, or having lost all hope in
human charity.
We have got a few moments to do a thing which is infinitely simple.
Let us do it, and may God's blessing be upon anyone who will have
done something, not just a little, but as much as possible, to enable
another person to stay alive, to breathe, not to collapse.
Metropolitan Anthony Sourozh
Forgiveness Sunday 19February 25, 1996
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
To-day two themes dominate the readings of the Holy Scriptures. St
Paul speaks to us about fasting and the Lord about forgiveness, and St
Paul insists on the fact that fasting does not consist simply of depriving
oneself of one form of food or another, neither does it, if it is kept
strictly, obediently, worshipfully, give us any ground to be proud of
ourselves, satisfied and secure, because the aim of fasting is not to
deprive our body of the one form of food rather than the other, the aim
of fasting is to acquire mastery over our body and make it a perfect
instrument of the spirit. Most of the time we are slaves of our bodies, we
are attracted by all our senses to one form or another of enjoyment, but
of an enjoyment which goes far beyond the purity which God expects of
us.
And so, the period of fasting offers us a time during which we can
say not that I will torment my body, limit myself in things material, but
a time when I will re-acquire mastery of my body, make it a perfect
instrument. The comparison that comes to my mind is that of tuning a
musical instrument; this is what fasting is, to acquire the power not only
to command our body, but also to give our body the possibility to
respond to all the promptings of the spirit.
Let us therefore go into fasting with this understanding, not
measuring our fasting by what we eat and how much, but of the effect it
has on us, whether our fasting makes us free or whether we become
slaves of fasting itself.
If we fast let us not be proud of it, because it proves simply that we
need more perhaps than another person to conquer something in our
nature. And if around us other people are not fasting let us not judge
them, because God has received the ones as He receives the others,
because it is into the heart of men that He looks.
And then there is the theme of forgiveness, of which I will say only
one short thing. We think always of forgiveness as a way in which we
would say to a person who has offended, hurt, humiliated us, that the
past is past and that we do not any more hold a grudge against this
person. But what forgiveness means more deeply than this is that if we
can say to a person: let us no longer make the past into a destructive
present, let me trust you, make an act of faith in you, if I forgive you it
means in my eyes you are not lost, in my eyes there is a future of beauty
and truth in you.
But this applies also to us. Perversely, we think very often of
forgiving others, but we do not think sufficiently of the need in which
we are, each of us personally, of being forgiven by others. We have a
few hours left between the Liturgy and the Service of Forgiveness
tonight, let us reflect and try to remember, not the offences which we
have suffered, but the hurts which we have caused. And if we have hurt
anyone in one way or another, in things small or great, let us make haste
before we enter into Lent tomorrow morning, let us make haste to ask to
be forgiven, to hear someone say to us: in spite of all that has happened
I believe in you, I trust you, I hope for you and I will expect everything
from you. And then we can go together through Lent helping one
another to become what we are called to be - the disciples of Christ,
following Him step by step to Calvary, and beyond Calvary to the
Resurrection. Amen.
Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh SUNDAY OF ORTHODOXY
16 March 1997
In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
We are keeping today, as every year at the end of the first week of
Lent, the Feast of the Triumph of Orthodoxy. And every year we must
give thought to what is meant, not only as a historical event, but also in
our personal lives. First of all we must remember that the Triumph of
Orthodoxy is not the Triumph of the Orthodox over other people. It is
the Triumph of the Truth Divine in the hearts of those who belong to the
Orthodox Church and who proclaim the Truth revealed by God in its
integrity and directness.
Today we must thank God with all our hearts that He has revealed
Himself to us, that He has dispelled darkness in the minds and hearts of
thousands and thousands of people, that He who is the Truth has shared
the knowledge of the perfect Truth Divine with us.
The occasion of this feast was the recognition of the legitimacy of
venerating icons. By doing this we proclaim that God - invisible,
ineffable, the God whom we cannot comprehend, has truly become man,
that God has taken flesh, that He has lived in our midst full of humility,
of simplicity, but of glory also. And proclaiming this we venerate the
icons not as idols, but as a declaration of the Truth of the Incarnation.
By doing this we must not forget that it is not the icons of wood and of
paint, but God who reveals Himself in the world. Each of us, all men,
were created in the image of God. We are all living icons, and this lays
upon us a great responsibility because an icon may be defaced, an icon
may be turned into a caricature and into a blasphemy. And we must
think of ourselves and ask ourselves: are we worthy, are we capable of
being called "icons", images of God? A western writer has said that
meeting a Christian, those who surround him should see him as a vision,
a revelation of something they have never perceived before, that the
difference between a non-Christian and a Christian is as great, as
radical, as striking, as the difference there is between a statue and a
living person. A statue may be beautiful, but it is made of stone or of
wood, and it is dead. A human being may not at first appear as
possessed of such a beauty, but those who meet him should be able, as
those who venerate an icon - blessed, consecrated by the Church -
should see in him the shining of the presence of the Holy Spirit, see God
revealing Himself in the humble form of a human being.
As long as we are not capable of being such a vision to those who
surround us, we fail in our duty, we do not proclaim the Triumph of
Orthodoxy through our life, we give a lie to what we proclaim. And
therefore each of us, and all of us collectively, bear every responsibility
for the fact that the world meeting Christians by the million is not
converted by the vision of God's presence in their midst, carried indeed
in earthen vessels, but glorious, saintly, transfiguring the world.
What is true about us, simply, personally, is as true about our
churches. Our churches were called by Christ as a family, a community
of Christians to be a body of people who are united with one another by
total love, by sacrificial love, a love that is God's love to us. The Church
was called, and is still called, to be a body of people whose
characteristic is to be the incarnate love of God. Alas, in all our churches
what we see is not the miracle of love divine.
From the very beginning, alas, the Church was built according to the
images of the State - hierarchical, strict, formal. In this we have failed -
to be truly what the early, first community of Christians were. Tertullian
writing in defence of the Christians said to the Emperor of Rome:
"When people meet us they are arrested and say: 'How these people love
one another!'" We are not collectively a body of people about whom one
could say this. And we must learn to recreate what God has willed for
us, what has once existed: to recreate communities, churches, parishes,
dioceses, patriarchates, the whole church, in such a way that the whole
of life, the reality of life should be that of love. Alas, we have not
learned this yet.
And so, when we keep the feast of the Triumph of Orthodoxy we must
remember that God has conquered, that we are proclaiming the truth,
God's own Truth, Himself incarnate and revealed, and there is a great
responsibility for all of us collectively and singly in this world, that we
must not give the lie to what we proclaim by the way in which we live.
A western theologian has said that we may proclaim the whole truth of
Orthodoxy and at the same time deface it, give it the lie by the way in
which we live, showing with our life that all these were words, but not
reality. We must repent of this, we must change, we must become such
that people meeting us should see God's truth, God's light, God's love in
us individually and collectively. As long as we have not done this we
have not taken part in the Triumph of Orthodoxy. God has triumphed,
but He has put us in charge of making his triumph the triumph of life for
the whole world.
Therefore, let us learn to live according to the Gospel which is the
Truth and the Life, not only individually but collectively, and build
societies of Christians that are a revelation of it, so that the world
looking at us may say: "Let us re-shape our institutions, re-shape our
relationships, renew all that has gone or remains old and become a new
society in which the Law of God, the Life of God can prosper and
triumph. Amen.
Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh
Saint Gregory Palamas Sunday
11 March 1990
In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
In one of the Psalms we can read the following words: Those who have
sown with tears will reap with joy... If in the course of weeks of
preparation we have seen all that is ugly and unworthy in us mirrored in
the parables, if we have stood before the judgement of our conscience
and of our God, then we have truly sown in tears our own salvation.
And yet, there is still time because even when we enter into the time of
the harvest, God gives us a respite; as we progress towards the Kingdom
of God, towards the Day of the Resurrection, we still can, at every
moment, against the background of salvation, in the face of the victory
of God, turn to Him with gratitude and yet, brokenheartedness, and say,
Oh, Lord! I am perhaps the worker of the eleventh hour, but receive me as Thou promised to do!
Last week we have kept the day of the Triumph of Orthodoxy, the day
when the Church proclaimed that it was legitimate and right to paint
icons of Christ. It was not a declaration about art, it was a deeply
theological proclamation of the Incarnation. The Old Testament said to
us that God cannot be represented by any image because He was
inscrutable mystery, He had even no Name except the mysterious Name
which only the High Priest knew. But in the New Testament we have
learned, and we know from experience that God has become Man, that
the fullness of the Godhead has abided and is still abiding forever in the
flesh; and therefore God has a human name: Jesus, and He has got a
human face that can be represented in icons. An icon is therefore a
proclamation of our certainty that God has become man; and He has
become man to achieve ultimate, tragic and glorious solidarity with us,
to be one of us that we may be one of the children of God. He has
become man that we may become gods, as the Scripture tells us. And so,
we could last week already rejoice; and this is why, a week before, when
we were already preparing to meet this miracle, this wonder of the
Incarnation, softly, in an almost inaudible way, the Church was singing
the canon of Easter: Christ is risen from the dead! Because it is not a
promise for the future, it is a certainty of the present, open to us like a
door for us to enter through Christ, the Door as He calls Himself, into
eternity.
And today we remember the name of Saint Gregory Palamas, one of the
great Saints of Orthodoxy, who against heresy and doubt proclaimed,
from within the experience of the ascetics and of all believers,
proclaimed that the grace of God is not a created gift - it is God Himself,
communicating Himself to us so that we are pervaded by His presence,
that we gradually, if we only receive Him, open ourselves to Him,
become transparent or at least translucent to His light, that we become
incipiently and ever increasingly partakers of the Divine nature.
This is not simply a promise; this is a certainty which we have because
this has happened to thousands and thousands of those men and women
whom we venerate as the Saints of God: they have become partakers of
the Divine nature, they are to us a revelation and certainty of what we
are called to be and become.
And today one step more brings us into the joy, the glory of Easter. In a
weeks time we will sing the Cross - the Cross which was a terror for the criminals, and has become now a sign of victory and salvation, because
it is to us the sign that Gods love has no measure, no limits, is as deep as God is deep, all-embracing as God is all-embracing, and indeed, as
tragically victorious as God is both tragic and victorious, awe-inspiring,
and shining the quiet, joyful light which we sing in vespers.
Let us then make ourselves ready to meet this event, the vision of the
Cross, look at it, and see in it the sign of the Divine love, a new certainty
of our possible salvation. And when the choir sings this time more
loudly the canon of the Resurrection, let us realise that step by step God
leads us into a victory which He has won, and which He wants to share
with us.
And then we will move on; we will listen to the Saints who teache us
how to receive the grace which God is offering, how to become worthy
of Him. And a step more - and we will see the victory of God in Saint
Mary of Egypt and come to the threshold of Holy Weak.
But let us remember that we are now in the time of newness, a time
when God's victory is been revealed to us, that we are called to be
enfolded by it, to respond to it by gratitude, a gratitude that will make us
into new people - and also with joy! And joy full of tears in response to
the love of God, and a joy which is a responsible answer to the Divine
love. Amen!
Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh
Sunday of the Cross
18 March 1990
In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
As we progress deeper and deeper into the weeks of Lent, we can say
with an ever-growing sense of gratitude and of joy, of a serene and
exulting joy the words of a Psalm, My soul shall live, and with gratitude I will give glory to the Lord'.
In the first week of Lent we have seen all the promises of salvation
given in the Old Testament fulfilled: God became man, salvation has
come, and all hopes are possible. And then, in the second week of Lent,
we had the glorious proclamation of all the Saints of Christendom that
not only did God come and dwell in our midst, but He has poured out
upon us, into the Church, and into every human soul ready to receive
Him the presence, the transforming gift of the Holy Spirit that makes us
gradually commune ever deeper to the Living God until one day we
become partakers of the Divine nature.
And today, if we ask ourselves, 'But how that? How can we be forgiven,
how can evil be undone?' - one step brings us deeper into gratitude,
deeper into joy, deeper into certainty when we consider, when we
contemplate the Cross.
There is a passage of the Gospel in which we are told that when Christ
spoke of salvation and of its conditions, Peter said to Him, 'Who then
can be saved?' - and Christ answered, 'What is not possible to men is
possible for God!. And He Himself came; the fullness of God abided in a human person, and He has power to forgive because He is the victim
of all the evil, all the cruelty, all the destructiveness of human history.
Because indeed, no one but the victim can forgive those who have
brought evil, suffering, misery, corruption and death into their lives.
And Christ does not only forgive His own murderers, when He says,
'Father, forgive - they don't know what they are doing': He goes beyond
this, because He had said, 'Whatever you have done to one of My
smaller brethren and sisters, you have done it to Me - not only in good, but indeed, the worst: because in compassion, in solidarity He identifies
with every sufferer: the death, the pain, the agony of each of those who
suffer is His. And so, when He prays, 'Father, forgive! They do not
know what they are doing, what they have been doing, He prays for each of us not only in His own name, but in the name of all those upon
whom evil has visited because of human sin.
But it is not only Christ who forgives; everyone who has suffered in
soul, in body, in spirit, - everyone is called to grant freedom to those
who have made him suffer.
And so, we can see why Christ says, 'Forgive so that you may be
forgiven' because both the victim and the culprit are tied in one knot of
solidarity and reciprocal responsibility. Only the victim can say, 'Lord -
forgive him, forgive her, and only then can the Lord say, I do!.
But do you realise what responsibility it puts on each of us with regard
to all and everyone? But also the depth, the glorious depth of hope
which opens up to us when we look at the Cross and see that in
solidarity with all mankind Christ taking upon Himself all the suffering
of the world, accepting to die an impossible death has said in the name
of all the sufferers, 'Yes, - we forgive!
This is one more step towards freedom, this is one more step towards
the moment when we will be faced with Christ's resurrection that
engulfs us also because the risen Christ is risen and is offering all and
each of us the fullness of eternal life.
And so again, and again we can say that Lent is a spring of a new life, a
new time, a time of renewal, not only in repentance, but in being taken
by Christ Himself as the shepherd took the lost sheep, as the Lord took
up His Cross, brought it to the place of death, and undid death, undid
evil by forgiveness and giving His life. Once more we are confronted
with another step of our freedom and of newness. Let us enter ever
deeper into this mystery, into this wonder of salvation, and rejoice in the
Lord, and rejoicing, step after step, more and more, let us also express
our gratitude by newness of life. Amen!
Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh SAINT JOHN OF THE LADDER
9 April 1989
In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
Lent is a time of repentance, a time when our heart of stone must be
made by the power of God into a heart of flesh, from insensitive to
become perceptive, from cold and hard to become warm and open to
others, and indeed, to God Himself.
Lent is a time of renewal when like spring, everything become new
again; when our life that had gone into a twilight becomes alive with all
the intensity which God can communicate to us, humans, by making us
partakers of His Holy Spirit, by making us partakers, through the Holy
Sacraments and the direct gift of God, of the Divine nature.
It is a time of reconciliation, and reconciliation is a joy: it is God's
joy, and it is our joy; it's a new beginning.
Today is the day of Saint John of the Ladder, and I want to read to
you a few phrases of his which are relevant to the particular time of the
year in which we live:
Repentance, that is our return to God is renewal of our baptism; it is our effort to renew our covenant with God, our promise to change our
life. It is a time when we can acquire humility, that is peace; peace with
God, peace with ourselves, peace with all the created world.
Repentance is born of hope and rejection of despair. And one who
repents, is one who deserves condemnation - and yet, goes away from
the tribunal without shame, because repentance is our peace with God.
And this is achieved through a worthy life, alien to the sins we
committed in the past. Repentance is cleansing of our conscience.
Repentance implies carrying off all sadness and pain.
And if we ask ourselves how we can achieve it, how we can come to
this, how we can respond to God Who receives us as the father received
the prodigal son, a God Who has waited for us, longingly, Who,
rejected, never turned away from us - how can we respond to Him?
Here is a short word about prayer :
Don't use in prayer falsely wise words; because it is often the simple and uncomplicated whispering of children that rejoices our heavenly
Father. Don't try to say much when you speak to God, because
otherwise your mind in search of words will be lost in them. One word
spoken by the publican brought Divine mercy upon him; one word
filled with faith saved the thief on the cross. The use of the multiplicity
of words when we pray disperses our mind and fill it with
imaginations. One word spoken to God collects the mind in His
presence. And if a word, in thy prayer, reaches you deeply, if you
perceive it profoundly - dwell in it, dwell in it, because at such
moments our Angel guardian prays with us because we are true to
ourselves and to God.
Let us remember what Saint John of the Ladder says, even if you
forget the short comments (which I introduced) to make his text more
readily understandable. Let us remember his words because he was a
man who knew what it means to turn to God, to stay with God, to be
Gods joy and to rejoice in Him. He is offered us in this time, when we are ascending towards the days of the Passion, he is offered us as an
example of what grace Divine can do to transform an ordinary, simple
human being into a light to the world.
Let us learn from him, let us follow his example, let us rejoice in
what God can do by His power in a human being, and let us
confidently, with faith, with an exulting and yet serene joy follow the
advice, listen to God begging us to find a way of life and telling us
that with Him, in Him we will be alive, because He is the Truth but
also the Way and also Life eternal. Amen.
Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh SAINT MARY OF EGYPT
16 April 1989
In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
We keep today the memory of Saint Mary of Egypt in the gradual
progression from glory to glory which Lent is, and which must lead us
step by step to facing the supreme glory of the Divine Love crucified,
the sacrificial love of the Holy Trinity.
Saint Mary of Egypt was a sinner, someone whose sin was known
to everyone and not to God alone; perhaps she was the only one who
was least of all aware of it because sin was her life. And yet, one day,
she wanted to go and venerate an icon of the Mother of God in a
church. The supreme beauty of womanhood in the Mother of God
reached her heart, touched it. But when she came to the gate of this
church, a power prevented her from crossing the threshold. The
Publican had been able to stand there because his heart was broken;
Mary of Egypt had no broken heart, and the entrance of the church was
forbidden to her. And she stood there, aware that what she was, was
incompatible with the holiness of the Presence, the presence of God,
the presence of the Mother of God, the presence of all that is holy on
earth and in heaven.
And she was so profoundly shaken by this experience that she left
all that had been her life, retired into the desert, and with a life which
the service books define as extreme, fought to conquer her flesh, her soul, her memories - everything that was sin, but also everything that
could lead her away from God. And we know how glorious her life
was, the kind of person she became.
What lesson can we receive from her life? How often is it that we
have knocked at the door of God in the way in which Mary tried to
come into His presence? How often have we tried to pray, to be in His
presence in silence? How often has our longing been to God, and how
often have we felt that between our prayer and Him, between our
silence and Him, between our longing and Him there was a barrier
which we could not pass. We were crying, praying into an empty sky,
we were turning towards icons that were silent; all we could perceive
was the Divine absence, and an absence so frightening, because not
only could we not reach Him, but we perceived that unless we reached
Him, our soul was laid waste, there was within us nothing but
emptiness, an emptiness that if it continued, if it became our definitive
condition would mean more than death - ultimate separation.
But how often also has God knocked at the door of our heart. You
remember the word of the Book of Revelation: I stand at Thy door and
I knock... How often has God, in the words of the Gospel, in the events
of our life, in the weak promptings of our soul, in a whispering of the
Holy Spirit, in all the ways in which God tries to reach us - how often
has He knocked at this door, and how often have we made sure that this
door does not open. Either didn't we simply care to open it because we
were busy with things that mattered to us at that moment more than His
interrupting, disturbing presence; and how often did we refuse to open
the door because the coming of the Lord to us would have meant the
end of things which were precious to us, which mattered to us... And
the Lord stood knocking, and the door was shut in His face: exactly in
the same way in which every door was shut in the face of the Mother of
God and Joseph on the night of the Nativity.
We may not be aware of it with the intensity which should be ours;
and yet for each of us, simply, the proof of it is that we are here, and
millions of other people at some moment have suddenly perceived the
presence of God, have heard His knocking, have let perhaps the door
ajar, have listened to what He was saying, had a moment of elation, a
moment when suddenly we came to life, and then we shut the door
again. We chose our aloneness, we chose to be without Him, and what
we imagined to be free from Him: we are never free; we are never free not because He enslaves us, not because He hunts us down. We are
never free because He is ultimately in the end the only supreme longing
of our whole being, because He is the fullness of life, the glory of life,
the exultation of life for which we long and which we try to glean right,
and left in vain.
Mary of Egypt confronted with the Divine absence, with Gods refusal to allow her into His presence, confronted with a shut door
within herself felt that unless the door opened, everything was vain.
And she turned away from everything that stood between her and God,
and life, and fullness, and exultation.
Isn't she for us an example, a call, an image of what could be the
life of each of us? But we may say, Yes, this applied to her, she was a
prospective saint Each of us is called to commune with God in such a way, that God and each of us should become one, that each of us
should become partaker of the Divine nature, a living member, a
brother, a sister, a limb of Christ, a temple of the Holy Spirit, a son and
a daughter of the Living God! This is our vocation; but can that be
achieved by our own strength? No, it cannot! But it can be achieved by
God in us if we only turn to Him with all our mind, all our heart, all our
longing, determinably, yes: it is determination, and it is longing, a
passionate, desperate longing... And then - and then all things become
possible. I have said so often that when Saint Paul asked God for
strength to fulfil his mission, the Lord said to him, My grace suffitheth
unto thee, My power deploys itself in weakness... And at the end of his
life, having fulfilled his vocation, Paul, who knew what he was saying,
said, all things are possible unto me in the power of Christ Who
sustains me... All things are possible, because God does not call us to
more than can be achieved by Him with us and in us.
How much hope, how much inspiration can we find in each of the
Saints of God, as frail as we are, and in whom the power, the glory, the
victory, the life unfolded itself, deployed itself gloriously.
Let us once more receive inspiration from what we hear, receive
inspiration from what we meet face to face in the Gospel, in Holy
Communion, in prayer, in the silence in the presence of God. And let us
move one step more forward towards the vision of the love of God
made manifest in Holy Week, in the last steps of the way of the Cross,
in the final victory of crucified Love, and in the victory of the
Resurrection of God. Amen.
Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh THE LORDS ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM
1980, 30 March
In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy
Ghost.
Today Christ enters the path not only of His
sufferings but of that dreadful loneliness which
enshrouds Him during all the days of Passion week.
The loneliness begins with a misunderstanding; the
people expect that the Lord's entry into Jerusalem
will be the triumphant procession of a political
leader, of a leader who will free his people from
oppression, from slavery, from what they consider
godlessness - because all paganism or idol-worship is
a denial of the living God. The loneliness will
develop further into the dreadful loneliness of not
being understood even by His disciples. At the Last
Supper when the Saviour talks to them for the last
time, they will be in constant doubt as to the meaning
of His words. And later when He goes into the
Garden of Gethsemane before the fearful death that is
facing Him, His closest disciples, Peter, John and
James - whom He chose to go with Him, fall asleep,
depressed, tired, hopeless. The culmination of this
loneliness will be Christ's cry on the cross, "My God,
My God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" Abandoned
by men, rejected by the people of Israel He
encounters the extreme of forsakenness and dies
without God, without men, alone, with only His love
for God and His love for mankind, dying for its sake
and for God's glory.
The beginning of Christ's Passion is today's
triumphal procession. The people expected a king, a
leader - and they found the Saviour of their souls.
Nothing embitters a person so much as a lost, a
disappointed hope; and that explains why people who
could receive Him like that, who witnessed the
raising of Lazarus, who saw Christ's miracles and
heard His teaching, admired every word, who were
ready to become His disciples as long as He brought
victory, broke away from Him, turned their backs on
Him and a few days later shouted, "Crucify Him,
crucify Him." And Christ spent all those days in
loneliness, knowing what was in store for Him,
abandoned by every one except the Mother of God,
who stood silently by, as She had done throughout
her life, participating in His tragic ascent to the
Cross; She who had accepted the Annunciation, the
Good Tidings, but who also accepted in silence
Simeon's prophecy that a sword would pierce her
heart.
During the coming days we shall be not just
remembering, but be present at Christ's Passion. We
shall be part of the crowd surrounding Christ and the
disciples and the Mother of God. As we hear the
Gospel readings, as we listen to the prayers of the
Church, as one image after another of these days of
the Passion passes before our eyes, let each one of us
ask himself the question, "Where do I stand, who am
I in this crowd? A Pharisee? A Scribe? A traitor, a
coward? Who? Or do I stand among the Apostles?"
But they too were overcome by fear. Peter denied
Him thrice, Judas betrayed Him, John, James and
Peter went to sleep just when Christ most needed
human love and support; the other disciples fled; no
one remained except John and the Mother of God,
those who were bound to Him by the kind of love
which fears nothing and is ready to share in
everything.
Once more let us ask ourselves who we are and
where we stand, what our position in this crowd is.
Do we stand with hope, or despair, or what? And if
we stand with indifference, we too are part of that
terrifying crowd that surrounded Christ, shuffling,
listening, and then going away; as we shall go away
from church. The Crucifix will be standing here on
Thursday and we shall be reading the Gospel about
the Cross, the Crucifixion and death - and then what
will happen? The Cross will remain standing, but we
shall go away for a rest, go home to have supper, to
sleep, to prepare for the fatigues of the next day. And
during this time Christ is on the Cross, Christ is in
the tomb. How awful it is that, like the disciples in
their day, we are not able to spend one night, one
hour with Him. Let us think about this, and if we are
incapable of doing anything, let us at least realise
who we are and where we stand, and at the final hour
turn to Christ with the cry, the appeal of the thief,
Remember me, Lord, in Thy Kingdom! Amen.
Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh EASTER MESSAGE
9 April 1972
(Romans VIII:34-39)
Christ is risen!
When Christ first rose from the tomb and appeared to His disciples
and the myrrh-bearing women, He greeted them with the word
"Rejoice!". And then later when He appeared to the Apostles His first
words were "Peace be unto you!"; peace, because their confusion was
very great - the Lord had died. It seemed as though all hope had
perished for the victory of God over human wickedness, for the victory
of good over evil. It would seem that life itself had been slain and light
had faded. All that remained for the disciples who had believed in
Christ, in life, in love, was to go on existing, for they could no longer
live. Having tasted eternal life they were now condemned to expect
cruel persecution and death at the hands of Christ's enemies. "Peace be
unto you", proclaimed Christ. "I have arisen, I am alive, I am with you,
and henceforth nothing - neither death nor persecution - will ever
separate us or deprive you of eternal life, the victory of God". And then,
having convinced them of His physical resurrection, having restored
their peace and an unshakable certainty of faith, Christ uttered words
which may in the present age sound menacing and frightening to many,
"As the Father sent Me, so I send you". Only a few hours after Christ's
death on the cross, not long after the fearful night in Gethsemane, the
betrayal by Judas when Christ had been taken by His enemies,
condemned to death, led out beyond the city walls and died on the cross,
these words sounded menacing. And it was only faith, the conquering
certainty that Christ had risen, that God had conquered, that the Church
had become an invincible force that transformed these words into words
of hope and triumphant God-speed.
And the disciples went out to preach; nothing could stop them. Twelve
men confronted the Roman empire. Twelve defenceless men, twelve
men without legal rights were out to preach the simplest message, that
divine love had entered the world and that they were willing to give
their lives for the sake of this love, in order that others might believe and
come to life, and that a new life might begin for others through their
death. [I Cor. IV :9-13]
Death was indeed granted them; there is not a single apostle except St.
John the Divine who did not die a martyr's death. Death was granted
them, and persecution and suffering and a cross (II Cor. VI: 3-14).
But faith, faith in Christ, in God Incarnate, faith in Christ crucified and
risen, faith in Christ who brought unquenchable love into the world, has
triumphed. "Our faith which has conquered the world is the victory."
This preaching changed the attitude of man to man; every person
became precious in the eyes of another. The destiny of the world was
widened and deepened; it burst the bounds of earth and united earth to
heaven. And now we Christians, in the words of a western preacher, in
the person of Jesus Christ, have become the people to whom God has
committed the care of other people; that they should believe in
themselves because God believes in us; that they should hope for all
things because God puts His hope in us; that they should be able to carry
our victorious faith through the furnace of horror, trials, hatred and
persecution - that faith which has already conquered the world, in the
faith in Christ, God crucified and risen.
So let us also stand up for this faith. Let us proclaim it fearlessly, let
us teach it to our children, let us bring them to the sacraments of the
Church which, even before they can understand it, unite them with God
and plant eternal life in them.
All of us, sooner or later, will stand before the judgment of God and
will have to answer whether we were able to love the whole world -
believers and unbelievers, the good and the bad - with the sacrificial,
crucified, all-conquering love with which God loves us. May the Lord
give us invincible courage, triumphant faith, joyful love in order that the
kingdom for which God became man should be established, that we
should truly become godly, that our earth should indeed become heaven
where love, triumphant love lives and reigns. Christ is risen!
Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh ST THOMAS SUNDAY
April 30,1995
To-day we are keeping the day of St Thomas the Apostle. Too often
we remember him only as a doubter; indeed he is the one who
questioned the message which the other Apostles brought to him when
they said: Christ is risen! We have seen Him alive!
But he is not one who doubted throughout his life or who remained
unfaithful to the fullness of the divine revelation of Christ. We must
remember that when the Apostles and the Lord heard of the illness of
Lazarus, Christ said to them: Let us return to Jerusalem. To which the
others said: But the Jews wanted to kill you there. Why should we
return? Only Thomas the Apostle answered: Let us go with Him and die
with Him. He was prepared not only to be His disciple in words, not
only to follow Him as one follows a teacher, but to die with Him as one
dies with a friend and, if necessary, for a friend. So, let us remember his
greatness, his faithfulness, his wholeness.
But what happened then when after the Resurrection of Christ, the
Apostles said to the one who had not seen Christ risen, that they had
actually seen the risen Christ? Why did he not accept their message?
Why did he doubt? Why did he say that he must have proofs, material
proofs? Because when he looked at them, he saw them rejoicing in what
they had seen, rejoicing that Christ was not dead, rejoicing that Christ
was alive, rejoicing that victory had been won. Yet, when he looked at
them he saw no difference in them.. These were the same men, only full
of joy instead of fear. And Thomas said: Unless I see, unless I probe the
Resurrection, I cannot believe you.
Is it not the same thing that anyone can say to us who meets us?
We proclaimed the Resurrection of Christ, passionately, sincerely,
truthfully, a few days ago. We believe in it with all our being; and yet,
when people meet us in our homes, in the street, in our place of work,
anywhere, do they look at us and say: Who are these people? What has
happened to them?
The Apostles had seen Christ risen, but the Resurrection had not
become part of their own experience. They had not come out of death
into eternal life. So it is also with us; except with the saints, when they
see them, they know that their message is true.
What is it in our message that is not heard? Because we speak, but are
not. We should be so different from people who have no experience of
the living Christ, risen, who has shared His life with us, who sent the
Holy Spirit to us as, in the words of C.S. Lewis, a living person is
different from a statue. A statue may be beautiful, magnificent, glorious,
but it is stone. A human being can be much less moving in his outer
presence, yet he is alive, he is a testimony of life.
So let us examine ourselves. Let us ask ourselves where we are. Why
is it that people who meet us never notice that we are limbs of the risen
Christ, temples of the Holy Spirit? Why?
Each of us has got to give his own reply to this question. Let us, each
of us, examine ourselves and be ready to answer before our own
conscience and do what is necessary to change our lives in such away
that people meeting us may look at us and say: Such people we have
never seen. There is something about them that we have never seen in
anyone. What is it? And we could answer: It is the life of Christ abroad
in us. We are His limbs. This is the life of the Spirit in us. We are His
temple. Amen.
Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh SUNDAY OF THE MYRRH -BEARING WOMEN
April 21, 1991
In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
We remember today the Myrrh-bearing women, Joseph of Arimathea
and Nicodemus, people who in the course of the Gospel are hardly
mentioned, yet who, when Christ was seemingly defeated, when death,
rejection, betrayal and hatred had conquered, proved to be people of
faithfulness and courage, the faithfulness of the heart and the courage
that can be born only of love. At the moment of the Crucifixion all the
Apostles had fled save one, John, who stood at the foot of the Cross
with the Mother of God. Everyone else had abandoned Christ, only a
small group of women stood at a short distance from the Cross, and
when He had died, they came to anoint His Body which Joseph of
Arimathea had sought from Pilate, unafraid of being recognised as a
disciple, because in life and in death love and faithfulness had
conquered.
Let us reflect on this. It is easy to be Christ's disciples when we are on
the crest of the wave, in the security of countries where no persecution,
no rejection is endured, no betrayal can lead us to martyrdom, or simply
to becoming the victims of mockery and rejection.
Let us think of ourselves not in regard to Christ alone but with regard
to one another, because Christ has said that what we have done to any
one of us, to the smallest, to the most insignificant, we have done to
Him.
Let us ask ourselves how we behave when someone is rejected,
mocked, ostracised, condemned by public opinion or by the opinion of
those who mean something to us, whether at that moment our heart
remains faithful, whether at that moment we find courage to say, He was, and he remains my friend whether you accept or reject him. There is no greater measure of faithfulness than that faithfulness which is
made manifest in defeat. Let us consider this, because we all are
defeated, we are defeated in so many ways. We all strive, with whatever
energy we have - a little or much, to be what we should be, and we are
defeated at every moment. Should we not look at one another not only
with compassion, but with the faithfulness of friends who are prepared
to stand by a person who falls, falls away from grace, falls away from
his own ideal, frustrates all hopes and expectations which we have set
on him or her. At that time let us stand by, at that time let us be faithful
and prove that our love was not conditioned by the hope of victory but
was a wholehearted gift, gratuitous, joyful, wonderful. Amen.
Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh SUNDAY OF THE PARALYTIC
21 May 2000
In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
How tragic today's story of the life of Christ is. A man had been
paralysed for years. He had lain at a short distance from healing, but he
himself had no strength to merge into the waters of ablution. And no
one - no one in the course of all these years - had had compassion on
him.
The ones rushed to be the first in order to be healed. Others who
were attached to them by love, by friendship, helped them to be healed.
But no one cast a glance at this man, who for years had longed for
healing and was not in himself able to find strength to become whole.
If only one person had been there, if only one heart had responded
with compassion, this man might have been whole years and years
earlier. As no one, not one person, had compassion on him, all that was
left to him - and I say all that was left to him with a sense of horror -
was the direct intervention of God.
We are surrounded by people who are in need. It is not only people
who are physically paralysed who need help. There are so many people
who are paralysed in themselves, and need to meet someone who
would help them. Paralysed in themselves are those who are terrified of
life, because life has been an object of terror for them since they were
born: insensitive parents, heartless, brutal surroundings. How many are
those who hoped, when they were still small, that there would be
something for them in life. But no. There wasn't. There was no
compassion. There was no friendliness. There was nothing. And when
they tried to receive comfort and support, they did not receive it.
Whenever they thought they could do something they were told, 'Don't
try. Don't you understand that you are incapable of this?' And they felt
lower and lower.
How many were unable to fulfil their lives because they were
physically ill, and not sufficiently strong But did they find someone
to give them a supporting hand? Did they find anyone who felt so
deeply for them and about them that they went out of their way to help?
And how many those who are terrified of life, lived in circumstances of
fear, of violence, of brutality But all this could not have taken them if there had been someone who have stood by them and not abandoned
them.
So we are surrounded, all of us, by people who are in the situation
of this paralytic man. If we think of ourselves we will see that many of
us are paralysed, incapable of fulfilling all their aspirations; incapable
of being what they longed for, incapable of serving others the way their
heart speaks; incapable of doing anything they longed for because fear,
brokenness has come into them.
And all of us, all of us were responsible for each of them. We are
responsible, mutually, for one another; because when we look right and
left at the people who stand by us, what do we know about them? Do
we know how broken they are? How much pain there is in their hearts?
How much agony there has been in their lives? How many broken
hopes, how much fear and rejection and contempt that has made them
contemptuous of themselves and unable even to respect themselves -
not to speak of having the courage of making a move towards
wholeness, that wholeness of which the Gospel speaks in this passage
and in so many other places?
Let us reflect on this. Let us look at each other and ask ourselves,
'How much frailty is there in him or her? How much pain has
accumulated in his or her heart? How much fear of life - but life
expressed by my neighbour, the people whom I should be able to count
for life - has come in to my existence?
Let us look at one another with understanding, with attention.
Christ is there. He can heal; yes. But we will be answerable for each
other, because there are so many ways in which we should be the eyes
of Christ who sees the needs, the ears of Christ who hears the cry, the
hands of Christ who supports and heals or makes it possible for the
person to be healed.
Let us look at this parable of the paralytic with new eyes; not
thinking of this poor man two thousand years ago who was so lucky
that Christ happened to be near him and in the end did what every
neighbour should have done. Let us look at each other and have
compassion, active compassion; insight; love if we can. And then this
parable will not have been spoken or this event will not have been
related to us in vain. Amen.
CHRIST IS RISEN! HE IS RISEN INDEED!
Metropolitan Anthony Sourozh
Sermon on the Samaritan woman
8 May 1988
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost
The Holy Gospel has not given us the name of the Samaritan woman.
But the Tradition of the Church remembers, and calls her in Greek -
Photini, in Russian - Svetlana, in the Celtic languages - Fiona, in
Western languages - Claire. And all these names speak to us of one
thing - of light.
Having met the Lord Jesus Christ she has become a light shining in
the world, a light that enlightens those who meet her. Every Saint is
offered us as an example; but we cannot always emulate the concrete
ways in which a Saint lived, we cannot always repeat their way from
earth to heaven. But we can learn from each of them two things. The one
is that by the grace of God we can achieve what seems humanly
impossible; that is, to become a person in the image and likeness of
God, to be - in this world of darkness and tragedy which is in the power
of lies - a word of truth, a sign of hope, the certainty that God can
conquer if we only allow Him access to our souls. Because if the
Kingdom of God is not established within us, if God is not enthroned in
our minds and hearts, a fire that destroys everything unworthy of
ourselves and of Him, we cannot spread God's light around.
And the second thing which the Saints can teach us is to understand
the message which their names convey to us. And today's Samaritan
woman speaks of light. Christ has said that He is the Light of the world,
the light that enlightens all men; and we are called to give shelter within
our souls, minds and hearts - indeed, within our whole self - to this light;
so that the word spoken by Christ, "Let your light so shine before all
men, that seeing your good deeds they may give glory to your Father
who is in heaven", may be fulfilled and accomplished in and through us.
It is only through seeing our deeds, through seeing how we live that
people can believe that the light is God's light; it is not in our words,
unless they are words of truth and of power like those of the Apostles, or
of Christ Himself indeed. And let us reflect, each of us, on the meaning
of our name and on the way in which we can become what we are
called.
The Samaritan woman came to the well without any spiritual
purpose; she came, as she came daily, to fetch water - and she met
Christ. Each of us may meet our God at any turn in our life, when we are
about our most homely tasks, if our hearts are turned in the right
direction, if we are prepared to receive a