1 Cor. 9: 2-12
Matt. 18: 23-35

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

Fred, having already had a few drinks, staggered into a bar and shouted at the barman, “A double whiskey for me, and a drink for everyone here, including yourself!” The mood in the bar was instantly happy as the barman poured the drinks. Ten minutes later, Fred again shouted to the barman, “Another whiskey for me, and the same again for everyone else!” By now, the barman was a little nervous about Fred’s bill, so he politely asked, “Excuse me, Sir, but don’t you think that you should pay me for that last round first?” Bleary-eyed, Fred responded, “Can’t! Don’t have any money.” At that the barman went into a rage and literally threw Fred out of the building. About 20 minutes later Fred staggered back into the bar and shouted to the barman, “A double whiskey for me, and a drink for everyone here!” Sarcastically, the barman asked, “And I suppose you’ll next be offering me a drink, as well?” Leaning forward as he tried to focus on the barman’s face, Fred replied, “Not likely! You get nasty when you’ve had a drink!”

Like Fred, many of us keep score when we’ve been hurt or offended, which is why we sometimes stun ourselves by the nasty things that come out of our mouths when we later talk with the transgressor. The problem for us Christians is that when Christ speaks about forgiveness, as he does in this morning’s reading, he makes crystal clear that forgiveness is about mercy, about compassion, and not about justice.

Right before this morning’s parable, Peter legalistically asks Jesus a question: "Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?" Peter's problem was that he was still thinking in terms of justice and legality, of law… just as we often do when we are hurt. But Jesus' reply was not based on law and justice, but upon the gospel of mercy:

“I tell you, not seven times, but seventy times seven.”

In other words… we must forgive unconditionally.

Little Jimmy’s preschool class went on a field trip to the local fire station. The firefighter giving the presentation held up a smoke detector and asked the class, “Does anyone know what this is?” Little Jimmy’s hand shot up and the firefighter asked, “Yes, do you know what this is?” “Yes,” little Jimmy replied, “That’s how Mommy knows supper is ready.”

Just because what someone says hurts us does not mean that they intended to hurt us. But the problem is that when it is our heart that hurts, it can be very difficult for us to remember Christ’s injunction to forgive; in fact… were we to be honest with ourselves… at such a time we often don’t want to remember his injunction to forgive! Our trouble is that when we hurt we think we don’t have to forgive. The sting of the offense feels unjust to us, and the worst part of us wants the offender to pay until we feel better.
Our unwillingness to forgive others is like a small seed of bitterness that we carry around inside ourselves which, if we water it enough, slowly grows into a thorny vine that has so entangles itself around our heart that we cannot become free of our unwillingness to forgive. In other words, it is possible that our unwillingness to forgive can become a habit from which we cannot free ourselves. From a spiritual point of view, we cannot be legalistic when it comes to sinning and we cannot be legalistic when it comes to forgiveness. Christ’s commandment to us is: No more keeping score!
Yes, God keeps on forgiving, and yes, we can sometimes find it hard to forgive. One of the messages that Christ teaches us in this morning’s reading is that just because it is hard for us to forgive does mean that we don’t have to do it! He commands us: No more keeping score! No more dictating terms for forgiveness! No more making the other suffer until we feel better!
An old farmer walked into a big-city lawyer’s office and announced that he wanted a divorce. So the lawyer asked, “Do you have any grounds?” The farmer replied, “Yea, I got about 140 acres.” The lawyer said, “No, you don’t understand: Do you have a case?” The farmer replied, “No, I don’t have a Case, I got a John Deere.” The lawyer slapped his head. The lawyer then said, “Sir, you don’t understand. What I mean is to you have a grudge?” The farmer looked as if the lawyer might be crazy and replied, “Of course I have a grudge; that’s where I keep my John Deere.” The lawyer thought he’d try another line of questioning and asked, “Sir, does your wife beat you up or anything?” “The farmer calmly replied, “No sir, we both get up at 4:30.” At his wit’s end, the lawyer asked, “Let me put it this way: Why do you want a divorce?” The farmer replied, “Because she don’t speak the same language as me and I’m tired of it.”
If we call ourselves Christians, then it is up to us to learn our Teacher’s lexicon. When Jesus speaks about forgiveness he makes clear that forgiving is not about keeping score; it is about wiping the scoreboard clean because forgiveness is not about legalistic justice. According to Jesus Christ, forgiveness is about mercy.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

August 28th

Saint Job of Pochaev died on October 28, 1651, and his relics were transferred to the church of the Holy Trinity on August 28, 1659. A second uncovering of the relics took place on August 28, 1833. In the year 1902, the Holy Synod decreed that on this day the holy relics of St. Job be carried around the Dormition cathedral of the Pochaev Lavra after the Divine Liturgy.

Saint Moses Murin the Black lived during the fourth century in Egypt. He was an Ethiopian, and he was black of skin and therefore called "Murin" (meaning "like an Ethiopian"). In his youth he was the slave of an important man, but after he committed a murder, his master banished him, and he joined a band of robbers.

Because of his bad character and great physical strength they chose him as their leader. Moses and his band of brigands did many evil deeds, both murders and robberies. People were afraid at the mere mention of his name.

Moses the brigand spent several years leading a sinful life, but through the great mercy of God he repented, left his band of robbers and went to one of the desert monasteries. Here he wept for a long time, begging to be admitted as one of the brethren. The monks were not convinced of the sincerity of his repentance, but the former robber would not be driven away nor silenced. He continued to ask that they accept him.

St. Moses was completely obedient to the igumen and the brethren, and he poured forth many tears of sorrow for his sinful life. After a certain while St. Moses withdrew to a solitary cell, where he spent the time in prayer and the strictest fasting in a very austere lifestyle.

Once, four of the robbers of his former band descended upon the cell of St. Moses. He had lost none of his great physical strength, so he tied them all up. Throwing them over his shoulder, he brought them to the monastery, where he asked the Elders what to do with them. The Elders ordered that they be set free. The robbers, learning that they had chanced upon their former ringleader, and that he had dealt kindly with them, followed his example: they repented and became monks. Later, when the rest of the band of robbers heard about the repentance of St. Moses, then they also gave up their thievery and became fervent monks.

St. Moses was not quickly freed from the passions. He went often to the igumen, Abba Isidore, seeking advice on how to be delivered from the passions of profligacy. Being experienced in the spiritual struggle, the Elder taught him never to eat too much food, to remain partly hungry while observing the strictest moderation. But the passions did not cease to trouble St. Moses in his dreams.

Then Abba Isidore taught him the all-night vigil. The monk stood the whole night at prayer, so he would not fall asleep. From his prolonged struggles St. Moses fell into despondency, and when there arose thoughts about leaving his solitary cell, Abba Isidore instead strengthened the resolve of his disciple.

In a vision he showed him many demons in the west, prepared for battle, and in the east a still greater quantity of holy angels, also ready for fighting. Abba Isidore explained to St. Moses that the power of the angels would prevail over the power of the demons, and in the long struggle with the passions it was necessary for him to become completely cleansed of his former sins.

St. Moses undertook a new effort. Making the rounds by night of the wilderness cells, he carried water from the well to each brother. He did this especially for the Elders, who lived far from the well and who were not easily able to carry their own water. Once, kneeling over the well, St. Moses felt a powerful blow upon his back and he fell down at the well like one dead, laying there in that position until dawn. Thus did the devils take revenge upon the monk for his victory over them. In the morning the brethren carried him to his cell, and he lay there a whole year crippled. Having recovered, the monk with firm resolve confessed to the igumen, that he would continue to live in asceticism. But the Lord Himself put limits to this struggle of many years: Abba Isidore blessed his disciple and said to him that the passions had already gone from him. The Elder commanded him to receive the Holy Mysteries, and to go to his own cell in peace. From that time, St. Moses received from the Lord power over demons.

Accounts about his exploits spread among the monks and even beyond the bounds of the wilderness. The governor of the land wanted to see the saint. When he heard of this, St. Moses decided to hide from any visitors, and he departed his own cell. Along the way he met servants of the governor, who asked him how to get to the cell of the desert-dweller Moses. The monk answered them: "Go no farther to see this false and unworthy monk." The servants returned to the monastery where the governor was waiting, and they told him the words of the Elder they had chanced to meet. The brethren, hearing a description of the Elder's appearance, told them that they had encountered St. Moses himself.

After many years of monastic exploits, St. Moses was ordained deacon. The bishop clothed him in white vestments and said, "Now Abba Moses is entirely white!" The saint replied, "Only outwardly, for God knows that I am still dark within."

Through humility, the saint believed himself unworthy of the office of deacon. Once, the bishop decided to test him and he bade the clergy to drive him out of the altar, reviling him as an unworthy Ethiopian. In all humility, the monk accepted the abuse. Having put him to the test, the bishop then ordained St. Moses to be presbyter. St. Moses labored for fifteen years in this rank, and gathered around himself 75 disciples.

When the saint reached age 75, he warned his monks that soon brigands would descend upon the skete and murder all that were there. The saint blessed his monks to leave, in order to avoid violent death. His disciples began to beseech the monk to leave with them, but he replied: "For many years already I have awaited the time when therethe words which my Master, the Lord Jesus Christ, should be fulfilled: "All who take up the sword, shall perish by the sword" (Mt. 26: 52). After this, seven of the brethren remained with the monk, and one of them hid nearby during the attack of the robbers. The robbers killed St. Moses and the six monks who remained with him. Their death occurred in about the year 400.

Righteous Anna the Prophetess was descended from the tribe of Aser, and was the daughter of Phanuel. She lived with her husband for seven years until he died. After his death, Righteous Anna led a strict and pious life, "not leaving the Temple, and serving God both day and night in fasting and prayer" (Lk. 2: 37). When Righteous Anna was 84 years old, she saw the Infant Jesus Christ at the Temple of Jerusalem. He was brought to be dedicated to God as a firstborn child according to the Mosaic law.

Righteous Anna also heard the prophetic words of St. Simeon the God-Receiver spoken to the Most Holy Theotokos. The Prophetess Anna together with St. Simeon glorified God, and told everyone that the Messiah had come into the world (Lk. 2: 38).

1 Cor. 4: 9-16
Matt. 17: 14-23

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

Fred decided that he wanted to become a policeman, so he went to the academy and, upon graduation, was assigned to ride in a cruiser with an experienced partner. A call came over the car’s radio telling them to disperse some people who were loitering. As they arrived at the street of the call, they had to stop at a red light, and Fred, observing a small crowd standing on a corner, rolled down his window and, with much authority, bellowed: “Let’s get off the corner… NOW!” Intimidated, the group of people dispersed. Proud of his first official act as a policeman, Fred turned to his partner and asked, “How was that?” The light having turned green, the cruiser began moving forward as his partner replied, “Not bad… considering that was a bus stop.”

Evidence to the contrary, we assume that we make the right decisions; in a way that confuses us, however, sometimes those decisions turn out to have been bad choices. One of those bad choices is to take our eyes off of God when the going gets tough and for us to worry, worry, worry as if everything depended solely upon us. In other words, in adversity we abandon being faithful to God, and we are okay with that.

Hearing St. Matthew’s Gospel reading this morning, we might, at first, think that its focus is about Jesus curing the epileptic boy. The real focus, however, is on faith, and on the faith-fulness that faith requires of us.

The disciples asked Jesus why they had been unable to help the epileptic boy. Jesus, with his typical straightforwardness, replied: “Because of your unbelief; for assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.”
This is what Faith is, this tenacious clinging to God no matter the circumstances happening around us. But Faith is not just a concept; faith is the living out of our relationship with God through thick and thin. Ultimately, Faith is faith-fulness.
Fred was opening his butcher shop one morning when a rabbit popped his head through the door and inquired “Got any cabbage?” “You idiot,” Fred replied. “This is a meat market! We sell meat, not vegetables!” So the rabbit hopped off. The next day, however, the rabbit popped his head in the door and again asked, “You got any cabbage?” Fred, now really irritated with this routine, replied, “Listen you little rodent, I told you yesterday we sell meat; we do not sell vegetables, and the next time you come and ask me that question I am going to grab you by the throat and nail those floppy ears to the floor.” The rabbit disappeared hastily and nothing happened for a week. Then one morning the rabbit popped his head in the door and asked, “Got any nails?” Confused, Fred replied, “What? No,” so the rabbit said, “Ok then: Got any cabbage?”

Sometimes, we look in the wrong place for what we need, and then we persist in looking either in the wrong place or for the wrong thing. Sometimes, we think the wrong thing about something, as in our ideas about comfort vs. adversity.

A friend who is a film-maker and who has done extensive filming in Haiti since last year’s earthquake wrote the following to me: “After each trip to places of crushing suffering, such as Uganda and Haiti, coming home is always a difficult transition for me to make. Going from extreme need to stunning abundance is jarring. In a land of plenty we hunger for more. We have turned greed into a virtue.”

So why is it that, at times, faith-fulness to God feels impossible for us? I would posit that, because of all the things with which we fill our lives, we feel no need for God, and therefore no hunger for God as is expressed in Psalm 63: “O God… I am seeking for you, my soul is thirsting for you, my flesh is longing for you like a land parched, weary, and waterless.” In other words, we have turned our misguided pursuit of comfort into a virtue.

What we think is good may not be good for us. In our automatic striving to avoid discomfort, we deaden our awareness of our need for God by wrapping ourselves in comfort. When adversity trips us up, we assume that God has abandoned us. Let us not be so quick to judge our difficulties as a sign that God has abandoned us. Since God is “… everywhere present and fillest all things…” how could he abandon us? In truth, the real abandonment occurs on our end of the relationship: When push comes to shove, we often abandon God.

Lucinda went for a walk by the river and eventually saw Fred on the other side. She called out, “Fred, how can I get to the other side?” Fred called back, “Dummy: You ARE on the other side!”

Maybe… just maybe… we are not so smart as we assume ourselves to be. Maybe we don’t know as much as we think. Just because we show up for the Sunday Divine Liturgy does not mean that we are faithful to God. The next time we just don’t “feel” like coming to church… let us see what part faithfulness will play in what we ultimately decide to do: Faithfulness, vs. inconvenience.

This morning, Christ tells us, “If you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.” All it takes is faithfulness to God in adversity to grow that seed and to move that mountain.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

August 21st

Saint Thaddeus, Apostle of the Seventy, was by descent a Hebrew, and he was born in the Syrian city of Edessa. The holy Apostle Thaddeus of the Seventy must be distinguished from St. Jude, also called Thaddeus or Levi (June 19), who was one of the Twelve Apostles.

When he came to Jerusalem for a feastday, he heard the preaching of John the Forerunner. After being baptized by him in the Jordan, he remained in Palestine. He saw the Savior, and became His follower. He was chosen by the Lord to be one of the Seventy Disciples, whom He sent by twos to preach in the cities and places where He intended to visit (Lk. 10: 1).

After the Ascension of the Savior to Heaven, St. Thaddeus preached the good news in Syria and Mesopotamia. He came preaching the Gospel to Edessa and he converted King Abgar, the people and the pagan priests to Christ. He backed up his preaching with many miracles (about which Abgar wrote to the Assyrian emperor Nerses). He established priests there and built up the Edessa Church.

Prince Abgar wanted to reward St. Thaddeus with rich gifts, but he refused and went preaching to other cities, converting many pagans to the Christian Faith. He went to the city of Beirut to preach, and he founded a church there. It was in this city that he peacefully died in the year 44. (The place of his death is indicated as Beirut in the Slavonic MENAION, but according to other sources he died in Edessa. According to an ancient Armenian tradition, St. Thaddeus, after various tortures, was beheaded by the sword on December 21 in the Artaz region in the year 50).

Saint Abramius of Smolensk, a preacher of repentance and the impending Dread Last Judgement, was born in the mid-twelfth century at Smolensk of rich parents, who had 12 daughters before him, and they besought God for a son.

From childhood he grew up in the fear of God, he was often in church and had the opportunity to read books. The parents hoped that their only son would enter into marriage and continue their illustrious lineage, but he sought a different life. After the death of his parents, having given away all his wealth to monasteries, to churches and to the destitute, the saint walked through the city in rags, asking God to show him the way to salvation.

He accepted tonsure in a monastery of the Most Holy Theotokos, five versts from Smolensk, at Selischa. Having passed through various obediences there, the monk fervently occupied himself with copying books, culling spiritual riches from them. The Smolensk prince Roman Rostislavich (+ 1170) started a school in the city, in which they taught not only in Slavonic, but also from Greek and Latin books. The Prince himself had a large collection of books, which St. Abramius used. He had struggled for more than 30 years at the monastery, when in the year 1198 the igumen persuaded him to accept the dignity of presbyter. Every day he served the Divine Liturgy and fulfilled the obedience of clergy not only for the brethren, but also for the laity.

Soon the monk became widely known. This aroused the envy of the brethren, and then of the igumen also, and five years later, the monk was compelled to transfer to the Exaltation of the Cross monastery in Smolensk itself. With offerings from the devout, he embellished the cathedral church of the poor monastery with icons, and with curtains and candle-stands. He himself painted two icons on themes which most concerned him. On one he depicted the Dread Last Judgement, and on the other the suffering of the trials of life. Lean and pale from extreme toil, in priestly garb the ascetic resembled St. Basil the Great in appearance. The saint was strict both towards himself, and towards his spiritual children. He preached constantly in church and to those coming to him in his cell, conversing with rich and poor alike.

The city notables and the clergy demanded that Bishop Ignatius bring the monk to trial, accusing him of seducing women and tempting his spiritual children. But even more terrible were the accusations of heresy and the reading of forbidden books. For this they proposed to drown or burn the ascetic. At the trial by the Prince and the Bishop, the saint answered all the false accusations. Despite this, they forbade him to serve as a priest and returned him to his former monastery of the Most Holy Theotokos . A terrible drought occurred in consequence of God's wrath over the unjust sentence, and only when St. Ignatius pardoned St. Abramius, permitting him to serve and preach, did the rain again fall on Smolensk.

The bishop St. Ignatius built a new monastery, in honor of the Placing of the Robe of the Most Holy Theotokos, and he entrusted the guidance of it to St. Abramius, and he himself settled into it, retiring from the diocese because of age. Many wished to enter under the guidance of St. Abramius, but he examined them very intensely and only after great investigation, so at his monastery there were only seventeen brethren. St. Abramius, after the death of St. Ignatius, having become his spiritual friend, urged the brethren, more than before, to think about death and to pray day and night, that they be not condemned in the Judgement by God.

St. Abramius died after the year 1224, having spent 50 years in monasticism. Already at the end of the thirteenth century a service had been compiled to him, together with his disciple St. Ephraim. The terrible Mongol-Tatar invasion, seen as the wrath of God for the nation's sins, not only did not stifle the memory of St. Abramius of Smolensk, but rather was a reminder to people of his calling to repentance and recollection of the dread Last Judgement.

Phil. 2: 5-11
Luke 10: 38-42, 11: 27-28

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

A new soldier was on sentry duty at the main gate for the first time. His orders were clear: No car is permitted to enter through the gate unless it had a special sticker on the windshield. Later that evening a big Army car rolled up to the gate; in the back of the car was an important General. But the car lacked the requisite sticker on the window.

“Halt!” commanded the sentry, “Who goes there?” “General Brandon,” came back the reply. The sentry declared, “I cannot let you go through the gate, you have no sticker on the windshield.” Annoyed, the General instructed the driver, “Drive on through.” The sentry stepped in front of the car, preventing it from going forward, saying, Halt! I have orders to shoot if you try to get in without the sticker.” Again, the General instructed the driver, “Drive on!” Confused, the sentry stepped up to the General’s open window and said, “General, I’m new at this. Do I shoot you or the driver?”

Now that’s obedience! And obedience is at the heart of the Theotokos’ life, no matter what emotions she was undergoing. There are two kinds of people in the world: Those who wake up in the morning and say, "Good morning, Lord," and those who wake up in the morning and say, "Good Lord, it's morning." The attitude with which we face situations makes all the difference in the world, especially when we are facing situations that frighten us. When we are in a storm of pain and distress, we need to call to mind, as did the Theotokos, that God is even there in the distress, just as he is in the happiness and blessings. This realization is one that the Theotokos, whose Falling Asleep we commemorate today, knew and lived throughout her whole life.
The feast of the Dormition probably dates from the late fifth century, although it may be even earlier. It was always celebrated in Jerusalem on the same date as now. In Egypt it was celebrated on January 18. Later it spread to other places, some choosing August 15 and some January 18. In the 7th century, however, the Byzantine Emperor Maurice decreed that the Dormition was to be celebrated everywhere on August 15, Later the Pope adopted the same date for the feast in the West, and it has been celebrated on that date in both East and West ever since.
In the West the feast is called the Assumption, for both Roman Catholics and Orthodox believe that Mary was assumed bodily into heaven. There is, of course, no mention of this in the New Testament; in fact, there is very little mention of the Mother of God in the New Testament. The story comes from apocryphal sources. We believe it, however, because it accords with the most ancient experience of the Church.
The Old Testament tells us that Enoch and Elijah were assumed bodily into heaven. We believe therefore that Mary, who is without personal sin and was chosen because of her goodness to be the Mother of God, must at least have been assumed, without corruption, into heaven. Indeed, Tradition states that when her tomb was opened so that the Apostle Thomas… who was, once again, late to the scene… could venerate her body, they found the tomb empty.
However, although Orthodox Christians believe that the Theotokos was assumed, bodily, into heaven, this belief has not been made into a doctrine of the Church, as it has in the Roman Catholic Church. The Orthodox Church has generally avoided formulating doctrines about the Mother of God. We are required to believe only that she is the virgin mother of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is the Son of God, both God and man. But the story of Mary's assumption into heaven does indeed accord with the Church's experience, and is therefore believed by Orthodox Christians.
A judge grew tired of having the same town drunk appear before him. When the drunk was, yet again, hauled before the judge, the judge glared down at the man from high up on his bench, and thundered, “It is the sentence of this court that you be taken from here to a place of execution and there be hanged by the neck until dead!” The drunk promptly fainted. The judge then said, “Strike that from the record; I’ve just always wanted to say that.”
What do we do when we panic? The drunk fainted, but what about us? In the midst of our terrible emotions, we sometimes act as if we don’t trust God: We don’t pray, we stop coming to church, we dismiss fasting as irrelevant. In short, we try to solve the pain by ourselves, assuming that God cannot be found within our difficulties. Not so, the Mother of God. Her whole life is an example of turning to God, and of trusting in God, of trusting that what looks like the end, will not be the end with God. Can the same be said of us?

Glory to Jesus Christ!

1 Cor. 1: 10-18
Matt. 14: 14-22

In the name of the Father, and oif the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

On the Friday before Christmas at the Atlanta airport, it was a typically crowded and chaotic day with people rushing to and fro, all needing to get somewhere yesterday. At the Delta counter, the agents were doing their best to find people flights, answer questions, and check-in bags; nonetheless, the line to the counter was immense and the progress was excruciatingly slow. A man towards the end of the snaking line of passengers was fuming at having to wait so long. Finally, having had enough, and pulling his wheeled suitcase behind him, he stormed up to the counter and, to the shouts of others in the line behind him, demanded his boarding pass. With professional diplomacy, the agent at the counter replied, “Sir, as you can see, there are many people who have been here longer than yourself. We are trying our best to take care of everyone. Now please step back into your place in line and we will get to you as quickly as we can.” His face red with outrage, the man yelled, “Do you know who I am?!!!” Without missing a beat the agent picked up the mike and announced, “Folks, there is a man at the counter who does not know who he is. Anyone who may be able to identify him is asked to please step forward.” The other passengers broke into wild applause.

All too often, the problems of others never seem to us as important as our own concerns. Much like the disciples in this morning’s Gospel reading, we often want others, and their needs, to just get out of our way. This morning we heard, “When Jesus went out he saw a great multitude; and he was moved with compassion for them, and healed their sick.” His disciples, however, saw the great crowd, and their needs, as a burden, and advised Jesus, “Send them away, that they may go into the villages and buy themselves food”.
Jesus, of course, had a different idea: “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.” The disciples, however, immediately found reasons for why they couldn’t do what Jesus had asked of them: “We have here only five loaves and two fish.” In other words: We don’t want to.

Excuses. We all make them. The fact is that, spiritually speaking, we are not honest with ourselves. We make up excuses for not facing up to the spiritual task of the work of our Transfiguration and, in the end, we fool ourselves into thinking that our excuses are valid. But, excuses for our lack of Transfiguration are, according to Jesus Christ, just that: Excuses.

A law firm receptionist answered the phone the morning after the firm’s senior partner had unexpectedly passed away. From the other end of the line, she heard someone ask, “Is Mr. Spencer there?” In a consoling voice the receptionist replied, “I’m very sorry, Sir, but Mr. Spencer passed away last night. Might I have someone else help you?” The person on the other end quietly replied, “No,” and hung up. Ten minutes later he called again, again asking to speak to Mr. Spencer. Recognizing that it was the same man who had called ten minutes earlier, the receptionist replied, “Sir, I told you, Mr. Spencer passed away. May I have someone else help you?” “No,” the man replied, and hung up. And ten minutes later he called yet again, again asking for Mr. Spencer. By this time the receptionist’s patience was a bit frayed and she replied, “Sir! I have told you twice already that he is dead! Why do you keep calling and asking for him?” The man on the other end of the line replied, “I just like hearing you say it, again and again.”

Listening to that this morning, some of us, at least, are probably shocked that someone would take delight in the death of another. And yet, to one extent or another, we each take delight in something that we ought not take delight in… the thrill of our secret sin. The fact is that, no matter what how we might advertise ourselves, quite often we are not the glowing incarnations of Christ’s gospel that we either think we are or present ourselves to be. Were we honest with ourselves we would admit that, like the original Disciples in this morning’s reading, many times we don’t want to have to extend or inconvenience ourselves for others; our response, too, is “Send them away, that they may go into the villages and buy themselves food”.

Not wanting to be inconvenienced by or for others is the fruit of our self-centeredness. We do not grow spiritually because self-centeredness thinks up all sorts of reasons for why we should not expend ourselves: “I have to make a living”… “It costs too much”… “I haven’t the time”. Just because we don’t have an hour free to talk with someone who is depressed, we don’t even take five minutes with them, and we think that is okay. We use the reality that we cannot afford to surprise someone who is alone to a fancy restaurant meal as an excuse to not even bring them a casserole, and we think that is okay. The mark of our spiritual delusion and mediocrity is that we are okay with all of this, with our not caring about others.

So then, what do we do about Christ’s words this morning: “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.”

What Christ shows us in this morning’s Gospel reading is that having to make a living is no excuse for not living like a Christian; the issue of “cost to us” is often a cover-up for our own miserliness of heart; and what little time we have can often prove to be the five minutes that save someone else’s spirits. Let us start to speak the truth to ourselves about ourselves. Let us no longer make excuses for our spiritual mediocrity. Let us no longer carry around a mindset of miserly self-concern.

Fred was sitting at a bar enjoying an after-work cocktail when an exceptionally gorgeous woman entered. She was so striking that Fred simply could not stop looking at her. When she noticed his fascination with her, she slowly walked over towards Fred, leaned towards his ear and purred, “I’ll do anything, absolutely anything that you want, for $100, but with one condition: You have to tell me what you want in just three words.” Fred slowly pulled 5 $20 bills out of his wallet, pressed them into the woman’s hand, and whispered in her ear: “Paint my house.”

Not what you were expecting, was it? And neither is Christ’s command that we take the needs of others to heart. This afternoon, let us ask ourselves: What is my attitude about others? Is it one of scarcity, of excessive self-concern, or one of abundance? Let us ask ourselves if our automatic response to this question is that of this morning’s Disciples: “But we have here only 5 loaves and 2 fish”? If it is, then we need look no further for evidence of our spiritual mediocrity.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

August 7th

St. Dometius lived during the fourth century, and he was by birth a Persian. In his youth he was converted to the Faith by a Christian named Uaros. Forsaking Persia, he withdrew to the frontier city of Nisibis (in Mesopotamia), where he accepted Baptism in one of the monasteries and was tonsured into monasticism.

But then fleeing the ill-will of the monastery inhabitants, St. Dometius moved on to the monastery of Saints Sergius and Bacchus in the city of Theodosiopolis. The monastery was under the guidance of an archimandrite named Urbelos, a strict ascetic, of whom it was said that For sixty years he did not taste cooked food, nor did he lay down for sleep, but rather took his rest standing up, supporting himself upon his staff.

In this monastery St. Dometius was ordained a deacon, but when the archimandrite decided to have him made a presbyter, the saint, considering himself unworthy, hid himself on a desolate mountain in Syria, in the region of Cyr.

Stories about him constantly spread among the local inhabitants. They began to come to him for healing and for help. Many pagans were brought to faith in Christ by Dometius. And one time, in the locality where St. Dometius struggled with his disciples, the emperor Julian the Apostate (361-363) arrived, traveling on his campaign against the Persians. By order of the emperor, soldiers found St. Dometius praying with his disciples in a cave, and walled them up alive inside.

The Uncovering of the Relics of Saint Metrophanes, Bishop of Voronezh (1832): The memory of the deep piety and pastoral virtues of St. Metrophanes (Macarius, in the schema) was revered at Voronezh from the time of his death (November 23, 1703). His successors, the Voronezh hierarchs, considered it their sacred duty to make annual remembrance of the first hierarch of their flock, together with his parents, the priest Basil and Maria.

The people of Voronezh and its environs came to the Annunciation cathedral, where memorial services were offered at his tomb. Contributing to the intense remembrance of St. Metrophanes was also his dying request that prayers be said for him. For this purpose the saint, even during his lifetime, had built a chapel at the cathedral in honor of the holy Archangel Michael (his patron saint), and in it a special priest served the Liturgy. Although succeeding generations did not know the saint, they also revered his memory.

The veracity of the sainthood of the first hierarch of the Voronezh diocese was also confirmed by his incorrupt relics, attested during their repeated transfers from one temple to another. In the year 1718, Metropolitan Pachomius of Voronezh, about to begin the construction of a new cathedral, gave orders to demolish the old Annunciation cathedral. The body of St. Metrophanes was temporarily transferred into the church of the Unburnt Bush. In 1735, the body of St. Metrophanes was transferred into the new cathedral, during which time the incorrupt state of his relics was again observed. At the place of the burial of the saint, panikhidas were customarily served for him.

By 1820 it was noticed that the number of those venerating St. Metrophanes and thronging to Voronezh, had extraordinarily increased. Grace-filled signs also increased. Archbishop Anthony II of Voronezh made repeated reports to the Holy Synod about the miracles, and he petitioned for a resolution for the glorification of the saint. The Holy Synod then prescribed that records be kept of miracles at the grave of St. Metrophanes. In the year 1831, after seeing the incorrupt body of the saint, Archbishop Anthony together with commission members of the Holy Synod, Archbishop Eugenius of Yaroslavl and Archimandrite Hermogenes of the Moscow Savior-Androniev monastery, became convinced in the miraculous intercession of St. Metrophanes before the Throne of God. The Holy Synod then issued its resolution adding St. Metrophanes to the ranks of the Saints. Since then, the Russian Church celebrates the memory of the saint twice during the year: November 23, the day of his repose, and August 7, the day of his glorification.

Archbishop Anthony II (1827-1846) established in the Voronezh also the following feastdays in honor of St. Metrophanes: June 4, the Feast of his namesake St. Metrophanes, Patriarch of Constantinople; April 2, the saint's day of consecration as bishop in 1682; and December 11, the day of the transfer of the relics of St. Metrophanes in 1831.

St. Metrophanes left behind a Spiritual Testament. Its original is preserved in the State Historical Museum. Upon the testament is the unique authoritative signature of the saint: "This spiritual dictate is attested to by me... Bishop Metrophanes of Voronezh."

On the lower cover (inside) is an inscription from the eighteenth century: "This is the book of testament or last will of the Voronezh schemamonk Macarius, written in the God-saved city of Voronezh, in the house of His Grace the bishop and schemamonk Macarius, who reposed in the month of November on the 23rd day in the year 1703, and was buried on the 4th day of December."

On the day preceding the Uncovering of the Relics of St. Metrophanes, Archbishop Anthony of Voronezh went to church, so as to lay out the new vestments prepared for the relics. Suddenly, he felt so weak that he was barely able to go about his cell. Troubled by this, he sat and pondered and then he heard a quiet voice: " Do not transgress my legacy."

This he did not understand right away, and instead thinking about his own plans, he gathered up his strength and opened the closet where the vestments were, and there he caught sight of the monastic schema, brought shortly before this by an unknown monk who had entrusted it to him and said that it soon would be needed.

Seeing this monastic schema, the hierarch then realized that the words, "Do not transgress my legacy," was actually the will of St. Metrophanes, that they not place upon his relics bishop's vestments, but rather to clothe them in the schema. By this and by his extreme humility, he indicated the deep spiritual connection with his patronal saint (in schema), St. Macarius of Unzhensk.