1 Tim. 4: 9-15
Luke 19: 1-10

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

Glory to Jesus Christ!

Despite the evidence in the mirror that we are no longer 18, many of us think that we have all the time in the world for getting around to things. The following, however, are indications that we are getting older:
1. You and your teeth don’t sleep together.
2. You try to straighten out the wrinkles in your socks and
discover you aren’t wearing any.
3. Your idea of a night out is sitting on the patio.
4. Happy hour is a nap.
5. It takes longer to rest than it did to get tired.
6. Getting “lucky” means you found your car in the parking
lot.

There are none of us here this morning who don’t need to change. We can pretend as if we know exactly what we’re doing, but God knows how confused we actually are. Out of that confusion we make mistakes and forge habits which, in the long-run, do not serve us well. The problem is that after living by these habits for so long we forget that they can be changed. Great Lent is about that very change, that renewal, that we both long for and yet fear.

Central to the feasts of Christmas, Theophany and the Encounter with Christ in the Temple… is the fact of God’s coming to us so that we might encounter him. In this morning’s Gospel, we hear about another encounter with God…that of Zacchaeus with Jesus…and it is with this Gospel incident that the church alerts us to a change of emphasis from what God has done for us… to… what we must do. From this Sunday of Zacchaeus, until Pascha, all the Sunday Gospels will now have to do with repentance.

Zaccheus was a man who was not well liked in Jericho… or, for that matter, anywhere at any time because Zacchaeus was a tax collector! But he was no ordinary tax collector: he was the Head tax collector for that area. Romans had military control over Israel and used Jews to collect taxes; therefore, by collecting taxes for a foreign power, tax collectors were viewed as traitors to their community… a “sinner” of the worst order.

Zacchaeus was rich and powerful. Some people would say that he “had it all.” But, apparently, Zacchaeus didn’t think so: some perceived need drove him to encounter Jesus Christ. And in order to meet Christ Zacchaeus had to climb upward. This Zacchaeus Sunday, and the other 4 Sundays before Great Lent, lead us towards the yearly season of repentance, that season of “Bright Sadness”, that season of trying to climb upward out of our habits and out of our sins.

Fred was on a trip and spilled coffee all over his one and only suit. Pulling into a town, he saw a store that advertised itself as “One-Hour Dry Cleaners.” Handing over the suit to the clerk, Fred said, “I need this in an hour.” The clerk replied, “I’ll have it for you on Thursday.” Puzzled, Fred said, “I thought you did dry cleaning in an hour?” “Oh, that,” the clerk replied, waving her hand, “No, that’s just the name of the store.”

Are we who and what we advertise ourselves to be… a disciple of Jesus Christ? Central to Christ’s life was his willingness to embrace whatever God asked of him, as is witnessed to in the Garden of Gethsemane when he said to the Father, “Not my will, but your will be done.”

What about what God asks of us? What about those habits which we suspect that we need to do something about? Great Lent is about changing those habits which lead us away from God. The chances are good that if we have a habit which we wish to remain secret, that habit is most probably destructive to our spiritual life. Only with effort will we be able to change our habits this coming Great Lent, and we will only do so when, seeing how destructive those habits actually are, we come to the conclusion that we have no recourse but to change them. And we will only “see” through the effort of trying to see.

Since last Pascha we have grown habits… habits of laziness, habits of making excuses for not addressing what we know needs to be addressed, habits justifying why we don’t need to change. For some of us, it is not even new habits that we have grown; rather, after Pascha, we went back to our old habits. We know that we should exercise, and but we excuse our not doing it. We know we should smile at people, and promptly forget about smiling when someone angers us. We know that we should stop gossiping, but then rush to tell someone the latest news that we have just heard.

Fred got home from his Sunday round of golf later than normal, and was extremely tired. Lucinda asked, "Bad day at the course, dear?" Fred replied, "Everything was going fine. Then Harry had a heart attack and died on the 10th tee." Horrified, Lucinda gasped, "Oh, that’s awful!" "You’re not kidding,” Fred said. “For the rest of the way it was hit the ball, drag Harry, hit the ball, drag Harry."

Let’s face it: If we really want to do something… nothing, not even the inconvenience of Harry’s corpse… will stop us. We don’t change because we don’t desire to change; it’s that simple. What if I told you, right now, that somewhere in a book in this church this morning I have hidden a $10,000 bill which goes to whoever finds it? Would you look for it? If your answer is that it is too much trouble to look for it, then you can be sure that that is your response to God’s advice that you start repenting.
We can make up all sorts of excuses for why we don’t come to church, to feast day services, to parish meetings, but in the end, that’s all they are: Excuses. Before us stands the 2012 tree of Great Lent, which can only be climbed through the asceticism of repentance. If we make excuses for why we can’t climb it yet again this year, for why we most probably won’t participate in the services of the season, then neither will we encounter Jesus Christ when he rises at Pascha. This Great Lent, let us… like Zacchaeus… make an effort to climb upward.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

The Sunday before Great Lent,
The one known as
“Zacchaeus Sunday”

Zacchaeus Sunday. The very first announcement that Great Lent is coming is made on Zacchaeus Sunday, when the Gospel lesson about Zacchaeus is read. It is the story of a man who was too short to see Jesus but who desired so much to see Him that he climbed up a tree. Jesus responded to Zacchaeus’ desire and went to Zacchaeus’ house. Thus, the theme of this first announcement of Great Lent is desire, and this fundamental psychological truth about human nature is acknowledged by the Gospel: “Where your treasure is,” says Christ, “there shall your heart be.
Zacchaeus desired the “right thing”; he wanted to see and approach Christ. He is the first symbol of repentance, for repentance begins as the rediscovery of the deep nature of all desire: the desire for God and His righteousness, for the true life. The lesson for us in this Gospel passage is that if we, too, desire deeply enough, strongly enough, Christ will respond.

1 Tim. 1: 15-17
Luke 18: 35-43

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

Glory to Jesus Christ!

Two young boys were spending the night at their grandparents’ house. At bedtime, the two boys knelt beside their beds to say their prayers. The youngest one began praying at the top of his lungs, "I PRAY FOR A NEW BICYCLE. I PRAY FOR A NEW NINTENDO. I PRAY FOR A NEW VCR..." His older brother leaned over and nudged the younger brother and said, "Why are you shouting your prayers? God isn’t deaf."
To which the little brother whispered, "No, but Grandma is!"

In fact, WE are the ones who are deaf to what God keeps telling us needs to be changed. True to his merciful nature, on the 5 Sundays before Great Lent begins God tells us, yet again, that the season of repentance, the season of finally doing something about our sorry, mediocre state, is on its way. This year, are we paying any attention? Will we be ready? Will we change?

In last Sunday’s Gospel reading we heard the Prophet Isaiah quoted: “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and upon those who sat in the region and shadow of death Light has dawned.” In this morning’s Gospel reading we hear about someone who lived in a land of darkness, a blind man whom St. Mark identifies as Bartimaeus.

As Jesus approached Jericho, he passed by where Bartimaeus sat begging by the side of the road. Upon hearing that it was Jesus who was passing by Bartimaeus created a scene by repeatedly shouting, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Those in the crowd tried to shut him up, but this caused Bartimaeus to cry out all the more insistently, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!’” In other words, the crowd wanted Bartimaeus to just be a nice, quiet blind beggar by the side of the road.

Fred, feeling henpecked by Lucinda, went to a psychiatrist about the problem. The doctor told him, "You don’t have to let your wife bully you! You go home, be firm with her, and show her that you’re the boss!" Filled with the fervor of new determination, Fred went home to tell Lucinda what’s what. When he got home, he slammed the front door, shook his fist in Lucinda’s face and growled, "From now on, you’re taking orders from ME! When I get home from work, I want my supper ON the table. I will be going out with the boys whenever I want and you will be staying home. I want my clothes laid out for me. And another thing. Do you know who’s going to tie my tie?" "Yes," Lucinda replied sweetly, "The undertaker."

I feel sure that this was not the answer that Fred had been expecting. It is often shocking for us to discover that we are not the paragon of greatness that we think ourselves to be.

Rodney King once, famously, asked, “Can’t we all just get along?” and as a result, many of us just try to not be different than what our culture tells us we should be. Too often, we follow the comfortable gospel of our culture rather than involve ourselves in the asceticism inherent in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Too often, we presume that the personal asceticism at the heart of Christ’s teaching is optional. That clash between personal delusion and the Gospel’s reality is what Great Lent is all about. Great Lent is about turning the whole house upside-down.

Two blondes went deep into the frozen woods searching for a Christmas tree. After hours of subzero temperatures and a few close calls with hungry wolves, one blonde turned to the other and said,
"I’m chopping down the next tree that I see. I don’t care whether or not it’s decorated!"

Like that blonde, we presume that we are a lot smarter than the facts of our life would argue against. In leading up to Great Lent, the Church presents this morning’s Gospel passage as a series of questions for us: Are we just as blind, in a spiritual sense, as Bartimaeus, this morning’s blind man was? Do we assume ourselves to be better than we really are? What do we want out of this coming Lent? What are we willing to do this coming Great Lent about those characteristics of ourselves that drive others away from us?

Great Lent is a season of asceticism, a time for struggling with the blindness of our spiritual mediocrity, a time for combating our culture’s worldliness which we have come to accept as the norm. Worldliness means smarting under every slight, challenging every word spoken against us, and cringing when another is preferred before us. The spirit of worldliness harbors grudges, nurses grievances, and wallows in self-pity. Worldliness, in other words, fosters the blindness of self-centeredness. If any of that resonates within us about ourselves, then worldliness has some kind of hold on our heart, and our involvement in worldliness is the manifestation of our spiritual blindness.

A farmer loaned his mule to a neighbor to help with some plow work. After an hour or so, the neighbor came back for help. “That mule won’t do a thing,” he complained. “I can’t even get him to move over to the plow.” The farmer said, “Let’s go have a look at him.” He picked up a wooden kitchen spoon and followed his neighbor out to the field where the mule was standing motionless and indifferent to the world. “Mule, let’s go!” the neighbor commanded, but the mule didn’t budge. So, the farmer took the wooden spoon and WACK!, smacked him across the nose. Suddenly, the mule looked at the farmer. “OK, mule,” the farmer said, “let’s go!” And the mule started walking straight to the harness. The neighbor just stood there wide-eyed. The farmer said, “See. He’s a pretty good mule, you just have to get his attention first.”

Great Lent is God’s way of getting our attention. How many Great Lent’s have come and gone, leaving us the same, despite the passing thought, now and again, that we really should change our ways of thinking and living? Will this coming Great Lent be just another season of good intentions but little accomplishment? Or will this coming Great Lent be the time when we finally stop just complaining about our lives, get up off the side of the road, and DO something?!

Glory to Jesus Christ!

January 22nd

The Holy Apostle Timothy was from the Lycaonian city of Lystra in Asia Minor. St. Timothy was converted to Christ in the year 52 by the holy Apostle Paul (June 29). When the Apostles Paul and Barnabas first visited the cities of Lycaonia, St. Paul healed one crippled from birth. Many of the inhabitants of Lystra then believed in Christ, and among them was the future St. Timothy, his mother Eunice and grandmother Loida (Lois) (Acts 14:6-12; 2 Tim. 1:5).

The seed of faith, planted in the soul of St. Timothy by the Apostle Paul, brought forth abundant fruit. He became St. Paul's disciple, and later his constant companion and co-worker in the preaching of the Gospel. The Apostle Paul loved St. Timothy and in his Epistles called him his beloved son, remembering his devotion and fidelity with gratitude.

The Apostle Paul appointed St. Timothy as Bishop of Ephesus, where the saint remained for fifteen years. Finally, when St. Paul was in prison and awaiting martyrdom, summoned his faithful friend, St. Timothy, for a last farewell (2 Tim. 4:9).

St. Timothy ended his life as a martyr. The pagans of Ephesus celebrated a festival in honor of their idols, and carried them through the city, accompanied by impious ceremonies and songs. St. Timothy, zealous for the glory of God, attempted to halt the procession and reason with the spiritually blind idol-worshipping people, by preaching the true faith in Christ.

The pagans angrily fell upon the holy apostle, they beat him, dragged him along the ground, and finally, they stoned him. St. Timothy's martyrdom occurred in the year 93.

In the fourth century the holy relics of St. Timothy were transferred to Constantinople and placed in the church of the Holy Apostles near the tombs of St. Andrew (November 30) and St. Luke (October 18). The Church honors St. Timothy as one of the Apostles of the Seventy.

The Monk Martyr Anastasius the Persian was the son of a Persian sorcerer named Bavi. As a pagan, he had the name Magundates and served in the armies of the Persian emperor Chozroes II, who in 614 ravaged the city of Jerusalem and carried away the Life-Creating Cross of the Lord to Persia.

Great miracles occurred from the Cross of the Lord, and the Persians were astonished. The heart of young Magundates was inflamed with the desire to learn more about this sacred object. Asking everyone about the Holy Cross, the youth learned that upon it the Lord Himself was crucified for the salvation of mankind. He became acquainted with the truths of the Christian Faith in the city of Chalcedon, where the army of Chozroes was for a certain while. He was baptized with the name Anastasius, and then became a monk and spent seven years in one of the Jerusalem monasteries, living an ascetical life.

He went secretly from the monastery to Palestinian Caesarea. There he was arrested for being a Christian, and was brought to trial. The governor tried in every way to force St. Anastasius to renounce Christ, threatening him with tortures and death, and promising him earthly honors and blessings. The saint, however, remained unyielding. Then they subjected him to torture: they beat him with rods, they lacerated his knees, they hung him up by the hands and tied a heavy stone to his feet, they exhausted him with confinement, and then wore him down with heavy work in the stone quarry with other prisoners.

Finally, the governor summoned St. Anastasius and promised him his freedom if he would only say, "I am not a Christian." The holy martyr replied, "I will never deny my Lord before you or anyone else, neither openly nor even while asleep. No one can compel me to do this while I am in my right mind." Then by order of the emperor Chozroes, St. Anastasius was strangled, then beheaded. After the death of Chozroes, the relics of the Monk Martyr Anastasius were transferred to Palestine, to the Anastasius monastery.

1 Tim. 1: 15-17
Luke 18: 18-27

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

Glory to Jesus Christ!

Lucinda smoked like a chimney, ate chocolate non-stop, and drank booze for breakfast, lunch, and supper. Unable to put up with it one more day, while Lucinda was reading the newspaper at the breakfast table, Fred walked in and plunked down 4 jars onto the table. At the sound, Lucinda looked up. Without a word, Fred dropped a worm into the first jar, which was filled with alcohol; the worm quickly died. Into the second jar, which was filled with chocolate syrup, Fred dropped a worm, which also quickly died. Fred took the lid off of the third jar, which was filled with cigarette smoke, and quickly dropped a worm into it and re-capped it; the worm died. Then, into the fourth jar filled with good clean soil, Fred dropped the final worm, and the worm happily burrowed down into it.

Looking up at Lucinda, Fred asked, “What did you learn from this?” Taking a swig of her whiskey, Lucinda replied, “As long as you drink, smoke, and eat chocolate, you won’t have worms!”

Why do we persist in drawing the wrong conclusions from things? Perhaps it is because we are afraid of what drawing the right conclusions will mean for our lives. Such was the experience of the rich young man in this morning’s Gospel reading who was dismayed when he realized what goodness would actually cost him.

The story of this morning’s “Rich Young Man” is found in all of the synoptic gospels. It is the story of a man who has everything, and yet, feels an emptiness inside that no amount of possessions can seem to fill. When Jesus told him “Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor… and come, follow me” the man left Jesus, saddened by Christ’s challenge to him.

The problem, as Jesus saw it, was not the money or the possessions, but the young man’s attachment to them, which attachment held him hostage. The point that Jesus is making in this morning’s Gospel is that it is not “things” that harm us, but the fact that we cannot let go of them. And, sometimes, one “thing” that we are most attached to, and which does us in again and gain, is the way that we think about repentacnce.

One morning, Lucinda was at the stove frying eggs when Fred burst into the kitchen, stood by her side, and commenced saying:
“Careful ... CAREFUL! Put in some more butter! Oh my GOODNESS! You’re cooking too many at once. TOO MANY! Turn them! TURN THEM NOW! We need more butter. They’re going to STICK! Careful... CAREFUL! I said be CAREFUL! You NEVER listen to me when you’re cooking! Never! Turn them! Hurry up! Are you CRAZY? Have you LOST your mind? Don’t forget to salt them. USE THE SALT! THE SALT!”

Lucinda turned from the stove and glared at Fred. “What in the world is wrong with you?” she snapped. Grinning, Fred replied, “I wanted to show you what it feels like when I’m driving with you.”

Now, according to the hospital report…

Let us just say that we are not always happy with the messenger who gives us a view of ourselves that needs correcting. The fact is that we would prefer to think that since we are not so bad, then that must mean that we are good enough.

Unlike this morning’s rich young man, those of us here this morning are not rich; far from it! And yet, Jesus’ words this morning are addressed to us as well as to the rich young ruler when Jesus states: “You still lack one thing.” That “one thing” is a repentance so real that it gives birth to a different way of our living.
Let us, for once, stop thinking about repentance on either a conceptual or theological plane, and start pulling repentance into the car with us in the morning when we go off to work so that maybe… maybe!... we will stop cursing all those on the road who dare to get in our way. In other words: Let us stop thinking about repentance, and let us start living it!
Fred hired Igor, his new son-in-law, to build him a house, saying “It’s a surprise for Lucinda for our 30th anniversary. Don’t spare any expense; just give me the bills and I’ll pay them.” Now Igor had no love for Lucinda, and saw his chance to rake in some money, so he charged Fred for all the best equipment, lumber, roofing, plumbing and anything else he could think of, while he only used the cheapest and even second-hand materials he could find. When the house was finished, Igor took the keys and proudly handed them to Fred, saying, “There! All done.” Fred then handed them back, saying, “There: Our wedding present to you and our daughter Olga!”
When we try to cheat on the issue of repentance, we only cheat ourselves. Some of us are like children who wipe their mouth with the arm of their sweater and proclaim, “I’m clean,” oblivious that they have now dirtied their arm. No matter how much we might object that we have changed, there is always still more to be changed. Repentance is not a one-time affair and then we’re done with it. Repentance is a commitment to keep on repenting. "The hardest thing about milking cows," observed a farmer, "is that they never stay milked." The same can be said of repentance: It always needs doing, no matter how many times we have already done it.
When Jesus tells us this morning, that we still lack one thing, let us not presume that we don’t, or that we know better; rather, let us start looking for that which we do not yet see about ourselves, but which needs to be changed.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

January 15th

Saint Paul of Thebes was born in Egypt around 227 in the Thebaid of Egypt. Left orphaned, he suffered many things from a greedy relative over his inheritance. During the persecution against Christians under the emperor Decius (249-251), St. Paul learned of his brother-in-law's insidious plan to deliver him into the hands of the persecutors, and so he fled the city and fled into the wilderness.

Settling into a mountain cave, St. Paul dwelt there for ninety-one years, praying incessantly to God both day and night. He sustained himself on dates and bread, which a raven brought him, and he clothed himself with palm leaves.

St. Anthony the Great (January 17), who also lived as an ascetic in the Thebaid desert, had a revelation from God concerning St. Paul. St. Anthony thought that there was no other desert dweller such as he. Then God said to him, "Anthony, there is a servant of God more excellent than you, and you should go and see him."

Anthony went into the desert and came to St. Paul's cave. Falling to the ground before the entrance to the cave, he asked to be admitted. The Elders introduced themselves, and then embraced one another. They conversed through the night, and St. Anthony revealed how he had been led there by God. St. Paul disclosed to St. Anthony that for sixty years a bird had brought him half a loaf of bread each day. Now the Lord had sent a double portion in honor of St. Paul's visit. The next morning, St. Paul spoke to Anthony of his approaching death, and instructed him to bury him. He also asked St. Anthony to return to his monastery and bring back the cloak he had received from St. Athanasius. He did not really need a garment, but wished to depart from his body while St. Anthony was absent.

As he was returning with the cloak, St. Anthony beheld the soul of St. Paul surrounded by angels, prophets, and apostles, shining like the sun and ascending to God. He entered the cave and found Abba Paul on his knees with his arms outstretched. St. Anthony mourned for him, and wrapped him in the cloak. He wondered how he would bury the body, for he had not remembered to bring a shovel. Two lions came running from the wilderness and dug a grave with their claws.

St. Anthony buried the holy Elder, and took his garment of palm leaves, then he returned to his own monastery. St. Anthony kept this garb as a precious inheritance, and wore it only twice a year, on Pascha and Pentecost.

St. Paul of Thebes died in the year 341, when he was 113 years old. He did not establish a single monastery, but soon after his end there were many imitators of his life, and they filled the desert with monasteries. St. Paul is honored as the first desert-dweller and hermit.

In the twelfth century St. Paul's relics were transferred to Constantinople and placed in the Peribleptos monastery of the Mother of God, on orders of the emperor Manuel (1143-1180). Later, they were taken to Venice, and finally to Hungary, at Ofa. Part of his head is in Rome.

Saint John the Hut-Dweller was the son of rich and illustrious parents, and was born in Constantinople the early fifth century. Filled with longing to enter a monastery, he confided his intention to a passing monk. John made him promise to come back for him when he returned from his pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and take him to his monastery.

He asked his parents for a Gospel so that he might study the words of Christ. John's parents hired a calligrapher to copy the text, and had the volume bound in a golden cover studded with gems. John read the Gospel constantly, delighting in the Savior's words.

The monk kept his promise to come back for John, and they went secretly to Bithynia. At the monastery of the "Unsleeping" (Akoimitoi), he received monastic tonsure. The young monk began his ascetical labors with zeal, astonishing the brethren with his unceasing prayer, humble obedience, strict abstinence, and perseverance at work.

After six years, he began to undergo temptations. He remembered his parents, how much they loved him, and what sorrow he caused them. He regretted leaving them, and was filled with a burning desire to see them again.

St. John explained his situation to the igumen St. Marcellus and he asked to be released from the monastery. He begged the igumen for his blessing and prayers to return home. He bid farewell to the brethren, hoping that by their prayers and with the help of God, he would both see his parents and overcome the snares of the devil. The igumen then blessed him for his journey.

St. John returned to Constantinople, not to resume his former life of luxury, but dressed as a beggar, and unknown to anyone. He settled in a corner by the gates of his parents' home. His father noticed the "pauper," and began to send him food from his table, for the sake of Christ. John lived in a small hut for three years, oppressed and insulted by the servants, enduring cold and frost, unceasingly conversing with the Lord and the holy angels.

Before his death, the Lord appeared to the monk in a vision, revealing that the end of his sorrows was approaching, and that in three days he would be taken into the Heavenly Kingdom. Therefore, he asked the steward to give his mother a message to come to him, for he had something to say to her.

At first, she did not wish to go, but she was curious to know what this beggar had to say to her. Then he sent her another message, saying that he would die in three days. John thanked her for the charity he had received, and told her that God would reward her for it. He then made her promise to bury him beneath his hut, dressed in his rags. Only then did the saint give her his Gospel, which he always carried with him, saying, "May this console you in this life, and guide you to the next life."

She showed the Gospel to her husband, saying that it was similar to the one they had given their son. He realized that it was, in fact, the very Gospel they had commissioned for John. They went back to the gates, intending to ask the pauper where he got the Gospel, and if he knew anything about their son. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he admitted that he was their child. With tears of joy they embraced him, weeping because he had endured privation for so long at the very gates of his parental home.

The saint died in the mid-fifth century, when he was not quite twenty-five years old. On the place of his burial the parents built a church, and beside it a hostel for strangers. When they died, they were buried in the church they had built.

In the twelfth century the head of the saint was taken by Crusaders to Besançon (in France), and other relics of the saint were taken to Rome.

Eph. 4: 7-13
Matt. 4: 12-17

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

Glory to Jesus Christ!

The following are signs that you are not in an Orthodox church:

The church bus has gun racks.
There’s an ATM in the lobby.
The choir wears leather robes.
Worship services are B.Y.O.S.: "Bring Your Own Snake."
Worship is Karaoke time.

It is possible that our being in church this morning is not a sign that we are actually growing spiritually, but rather, that we are living on automatic since going to church is just what we Orthodox do on Sunday mornings. Living on automatic will not enable us to grow. When we do not take personal responsibility for our spiritual life, it is all too possible for us to be spiritually dead even while we are still walking around and paying the bills.

In this morning’s Gospel reading the prophet Isaiah speaks about rescue from just such a death when he says:
“The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and upon those who sat in the region of death light has dawned.” This morning’s Gospel reading then goes on to explain that deliverance: “From that time Jesus began to preach and to say, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.’”

So how can repentance be illumination and freedom?

Each year, the Church chooses this morning’s reading for the Sunday following Theophany, which feast was originally known as the Feast of Lights. In the early Church, Theophany – the day of Christ’s Baptism – became the day on which pagan converts to Christianity were received into the Church through Baptism. Each newly baptized convert held the baptismal candle during the Divine Liturgy, and since large numbers of people were often baptized on this day, the church became a sea of lights.

So what is the connection between Baptism, illumination, and repentance? As we heard last Sunday, for the Jews baptism was the beginning of a new life by being cleansed of an old way of thinking and living. For Jesus Christ, it is repentance that fuels and illuminates that new life. “Turning around” is what the word “metanoia” (the word for repentance) means, and that turning back to God is what Jesus’ call to repent is all about.

A Department of Water Resources representative stopped at a Texas ranch and said to the rancher, "I need to inspect your ranch for your water allocation." The old rancher replied, "Okay, but don't go in that field over there." The Water representative, feeling sure that the old rancher was drawing a line in the sand and getting ready for a fight, decided to intimidate the old man, so he whipped out his government card and said, "Mister, you see this card? I have the authority of the Federal Government with me. This card means I can go wherever I want on any agricultural land. No questions asked. Have I made myself clear?"

Seemingly intimidated, the old rancher just nodded politely and went back to his work in the barn. Soon, however, he heard loud screams and, going back outside, saw the Water Rep running for his life; close behind him was the rancher's bull. And the bull was gaining with every step. The terrified Water Rep was screaming as he ran, “Help me! Help me!” Leaning on the fence, the old rancher yelled back, "Your card! Show him your card!"

Like the Water Rep, we are not so smart as we think we are, and… often… do not see the whole picture about ourselves. And since God does, we cannot fake repentance: If we are the same this year as we were last year, then we have not really repented since repentance is proven by change.

In the Gospels, repentance involves not only a changing of the mind, but also a changing of the way in which we live. As they say down here in the south: If wishes were fishes then we’d have us a fry. In other words, the way that Jesus sees it, it is not sufficient to want to no longer sin: In order to be truly repentant, we must stop actually sinning!

Lucinda went with her friend Mrs. Nagorny to the police station to report that Fred was missing. When the policeman asked for a description of Fred, Lucinda replied, “He’s 6 foot 2, has deep blue eyes, dark wavy hair, athletic build, well-groomed and sharply dressed, he weighs 185 pounds, he’s soft-spoken, well-mannered and loves children.” Mrs. Nagorny was staring at Lucinda, open-mouthed, and finally said, “But Fred is fat, 5 foot 3, rude, smokes cigars, bald, has a big mouth, never bathes, dresses sloppy, and hates children!” Without even looking at Mrs. Nagorny, Lucinda replied, “Yes, but who wants that one back?”

Repentance is not about becoming who you weren’t, but is about becoming who you should be. And we use Jesus Christ as the reference for who we should be. Repentance is a turning around, a turning away from ourselves and towards Jesus Christ, so that we can travel in the right direction… towards God… and we do this by traveling with the rest of the church, one candle in a sea of lights, which IS the kingdom present.
About the Kingdom, Jesus also said that it is like a mustard seed which, although tiny, grows into a tree so large that the birds of heaven can find shelter in it. On Theophany the light of the Holy Spirit shines upon that kingdom seed that God planted in each of us. What Jesus is saying to us this morning is that we need to turn around and face the Son of Justice in order for that seed to grow… and that turning towards Jesus Christ is the repentance to which God calls us this morning.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

January 8th

Saint George the Chozebite was born on the island of Cyprus toward the end of the sixth century. After the death of his parents, he went to Palestine to worship at the holy places. Here he entered into the monastic community of Chozeba between the River Jordan and Jerusalem, and he later became head of this monastery. St. George presented the monks example in fasting, vigil and physical efforts. Having lived as an angel upon the earth, he died in peace.

Saint Emilian was a zealous defender of the holy icons during the reign of Emperor Leo the Armenian. He suffered torture and martyrdom in the year 820. His main feast is August 8.

2 Tim. 4: 5-8
Mark 1: 1-8

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

Christ is Born!

Fred and Lucinda went to the mall to do some shopping. When they got there, they each went in opposite directions, agreeing to meet at the Starbucks in one hour. That hour came and went and, to Lucinda’s growing irritation, Fred was nowhere to be found; fuming, she called him on her cellphone.
“Where ARE you?!” she snapped when she finally reached him.
In a calm voice, Fred replied, “Honey, you remember that jewelry store that we went to 5 years ago, where you fell in love with that diamond necklace that we could not afford, but which I told you that I would one day get for you?”
Lucinda got a lump in her throat. Her eyes teared up as she replied, “Yes, Fred.”
Fred replied, “Well, I’m in the bar next door.”

I’m sure that Lucinda was surprised, but not in the way in which she had hoped. Life can sometimes take us by surprise. Even the Gospel writers can surprise us; for example, the way in which St. Mark opens his Gospel, which we have just heard. In it, St. Mark makes no mention of the events leading up to Jesus’ birth which Matthew, Luke and John tell us about. In St. Mark’s version of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, there is no Christmas story. Instead, he immediately introduces us to Jesus’ second cousin, John the Baptizer, and takes us back to the words of the prophet Isaiah: “The voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord; make his paths straight.’”

In other words, Mark’s Gospel account begins with a call to repentance, with a call to the struggle of a new way of living. And with that call to repentance, we leave the manger behind and head towards the Jordan where Christ will be baptized by his cousin John.

In the time of Jesus and John the Baptist, baptism was a sign of a change of life, of the start of a new life. Converts to Judaism were baptized to show that they were starting a new life in the Jewish faith. Their baptisms by John declared that they wanted to change and to experience a new life, which is what repentance is about.

A new life, however, cannot be based upon old assumptions. What about our assumptions as we make our way towards Great Lent; do they keep us from changing, from living a new life? Do we ask ourselves whether or not we are prejudiced… or do we automatically assume that we are not? Central to repentance is the willingness to question our assumptions.

Assumptions prevent us from even considering the questions that God sends our way through the most unlikely of people. Many times God uses the unlikeliest people, like John the Baptist, to make announcements in our life. He sometimes uses the “ordinary” people who fill our days to speak to us, to call us to change, to call us to repent, to call us to turn away from all that takes us away from God. Do we ever consider that the annoying people in our day might, just possibly, be God speaking to us?

Fred lost his job. At first he busily looked for a new job, but as time wore on he grew more accustomed to his new role as one of the unemployed. After a few months it got to where he spent the biggest part of his day just lazing around the house. One afternoon, after a hard day at her office, Lucinda came home and saw Fred laying on the couch watching TV. That was the last straw, and she exploded. She began to give vent months of pent up frustration. "If it weren’t for my money that TV wouldn’t be here", she yelled. "If it weren’t for my money that couch wouldn’t be here” she continued, and since she was on a roll she added, “If it weren’t for my money that popcorn you’re eating wouldn’t be here." Without even looking away from the television Fred replied, "If it weren’t for your money, I wouldn’t be here."

Like Fred, we all make choices, but why do we choose what we choose? Perhaps at least some of our choices are based upon incorrect assumptions. Perhaps God’s call to us to change during this new year will come in the form of asking ourselves about our choices: Why do I choose what I choose? And why do I keep on making the same choices when they always produce the same unhappy results?

This morning’s Gospel reading speaks of John as being and preaching in “the wilderness”. Throughout the history of Christian spirituality wilderness has been seen not just as a geographic place, but most importantly, as an interior place or spiritual state. From this point-of-view we may understand “wilderness” to be that place within ourselves in which we engage in the struggle of repentance, the struggle to change.

On the old Seinfield show, Elaine asks her boyfriend, "Do you believe in God?" "Yes," her boyfriend replies. So Elaine then asks, "Is it a problem that I’m not religious?" "Not for me," her boyfriend answers, which surprises Elaine, who asks "How’s that?" Her boyfriend then says, "I’m not the one going to hell."

Maybe we don’t know as much as we think we do, and maybe that is why God sometimes sends others into our wilderness to speak his words to us, words that cause us to struggle. Do we refuse to even consider what others suggest to us about ourselves? If we are serious about the issue of repentance, then preparing a way for the Lord will look like… at least questioning our assumptions.

Christ is Born!

January 1st

On the eighth day after His Nativity, our Lord Jesus Christ, in accordance with the Old Testament Law, was circumcised, as were all male infants as a sign of the Covenant of God with the Forefather Abraham and his descendants (Gen 17:10-14, Lev 12:3).

After this ritual the Divine Infant was given the name Jesus, as the Archangel Gabriel declared on the day of the Annunciation to the Most Holy Theotokos (Lk 1:31-33, 2:21). The Fathers of the Church explain that the Lord, the Creator of the Law, underwent circumcision in order to give people an example how faithfully the divine ordinances ought to be fulfilled. The Lord was circumcised so that later no one would doubt that He had truly assumed human flesh, and that His Incarnation was not merely an illusion, as certain heretics (the Docetists) taught.

In the New Testament, the ritual of circumcision gave way to the Mystery of Baptism, which it prefigured (Col 2:11-12). Accounts of the Feast of the Circumcision of the Lord continue in the Eastern Church right up through the fourth century. The Canon of the Feast was written by St. Stephen of the St. Sava Monastery (October 28 and July 13).

In addition to circumcision, which the Lord accepted as a sign of God's Covenant with mankind, He also received the Name Jesus (Savior) as an indication of His service, the work of the salvation of the world (Mt 1:21; Mk 9:38-39, 16:17; Lk 10:17; Acts 3:6, 16; Phil 2:9-10). These two events, the Lord's Circumcision and Naming, remind Christians that they have entered into a New Covenant with God and "are circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, in putting off the body of the sins of the flesh by the circumcision of Christ" (Col 2:11). The very name "Christian" is a sign of mankind's entrance into a New Covenant with God.

Saint Basil the Great, Archbishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia was born in the year 330 at Caesarea, the administrative center of Cappadocia. St. Basil's mother St. Emilia was the daughter of a martyr. St. Basil's father was also named Basil. He was a lawyer and reknowned rhetorician, and lived at Caesarea.

Ten children were born to the elder Basil and Emilia: five sons and five daughters. Five of them were later numbered among the saints: Basil the Great; Macrina was an exemplar of ascetic life, and exerted strong influence on the life and character of St. Basil the Great; Gregory, afterwards Bishop of Nyssa; Peter, Bishop of Sebaste; and Theosebia, a deaconess.

St. Basil spent the first years of his life on an estate belonging to his parents at the River Iris, where he was raised under the supervision of his mother Emilia and grandmother Macrina. Basil received his initial education under the supervision of his father, and then he studied under the finest teachers in Caesarea of Cappadocia; later, Basil transferred to a school at Constantinople, where he listened to eminent orators and philosophers. To complete his education St. Basil went to Athens, the center of classical enlightenment.

After a four or five year stay at Athens, Basil had mastered all the available disciplines. At Athens a close friendship developed between Basil the Great and Gregory the Theologian (Nazianzus), which continued throughout their life. In fact, they regarded themselves as one soul in two bodies.
After the death of her husband, Basil's mother, her eldest daughter Macrina, and several female servants withdrew to the family estate at Iris and there began to lead an ascetic life. Basil was baptized by Dianios, the Bishop of Caesarea, and was tonsured a Reader. Later on, wanting to acquire a guide to the knowledge of truth, the saint undertook a journey into Egypt, Syria and Palestine, to meet the great Christian ascetics dwelling there. On returning to Cappadocia, he decided to do as they did. He distributed his wealth to the needy, then settled on the opposite side of the river not far from his mother Emilia and sister Macrina, gathering around him monks living a cenobitic life.

By his letters, Basil drew his good friend Gregory the Theologian to the monastery. Sts. Basil and Gregory labored in strict abstinence in their dwelling place, which had no roof or fireplace, and the food was very humble. They themselves cleared away the stones, planted and watered the trees, and carried heavy loads. Their hands were constantly calloused from the hard work. For clothing Basil had only a tunic and monastic mantle. He wore a hairshirt, but only at night, so that it would not be obvious.

In their solitude, Sts. Basil and Gregory occupied themselves in an intense study of Holy Scripture. They were guided by the writings of the Fathers and commentators of the past, especially the good writings of Origen. From all these works they compiled an anthology called Philokalia. Also at this time, at the request of the monks, St. Basil wrote down a collection of rules for virtuous life. Monasteries were organized for men and for women, in which places Basil sought to combine the cenobitic (or common) lifestyle with that of the solitary hermit.

During the reign of Constantius (337-361) the heretical teachings of Arius were spreading, and the Church summoned both its saints into service. St. Basil returned to Caesarea. In the year 362 he was ordained deacon by Bishop Meletius of Antioch. In 364 he was ordained to the holy priesthood by Bishop Eusebius of Caesarea. "But seeing," as Gregory the Theologian relates, "that everyone exceedingly praised and honored Basil for his wisdom and reverence, Eusebius, through human weakness, succumbed to jealousy of him, and began to show dislike for him." The monks rose up in defense of St. Basil. To avoid causing Church discord, Basil withdrew to his own monastery and concerned himself with the organization of monasteries.

With the coming to power of the emperor Valens (364-378), who was a resolute adherent of Arianism, a time of troubles began for Orthodoxy, the onset of a great struggle. St. Basil hastily returned to Caesarea at the request of Bishop Eusebius. From this time church governance passed over to Basil, though he was subordinate to the hierarch.

St. Gregory the Theologian, speaking about the activity of Basil the Great during this period, points to "the caring for the destitute and the taking in of strangers, the supervision of virgins, written and unwritten monastic rules for monks, the arrangement of prayers [Liturgy], the felicitous arrangement of altars and other things." Upon the death of Eusebius, the Bishop of Caesarea, St. Basil was chosen to succeed him in the year 370.
Under Valens, the external government belonged to the Arians, who held various opinions regarding the divinity of the Son of God, and were divided into several factions. These dogmatic disputes were concerned with questions about the Holy Spirit. St. Basil's difficulties were made worse by various circumstances: Cappadocia was divided in two under the rearrangement of provincial districts. Then at Antioch a schism occurred, occasioned by the consecration of a second bishop. There was the negative and haughty attitude of Western bishops to the attempts to draw them into the struggle with the Arians. And there was also the departure of Eustathius of Sebaste over to the Arian side. Basil had been connected to him by ties of close friendship. Amidst the constant perils St. Basil gave encouragement to the Orthodox, confirmed them in the Faith, summoning them to bravery and endurance. The holy bishop wrote numerous letters to the churches, to bishops, to clergy and to individuals.

The emperor Valens, mercilessly sending into exile any bishop who displeased him, and having implanted Arianism into other Asia Minor provinces, suddenly appeared in Cappadocia for this same purpose. He sent the prefect Modestus to St. Basil. He began to threaten the saint with the confiscation of his property, banishment, beatings, and even death.

St. Basil said, "If you take away my possessions, you will not enrich yourself, nor will you make me a pauper. You have no need of my old worn-out clothing, nor of my few books, of which the entirety of my wealth is comprised. Exile means nothing to me, since I am bound to no particular place. This place in which I now dwell is not mine, and any place you send me shall be mine. Better to say: every place is God's. Where would I be neither a stranger and sojourner (Ps 38/39:13)? Who can torture me? I am so weak, that the very first blow would render me insensible. Death would be a kindness to me, for it will bring me all the sooner to God, for Whom I live and labor, and to Whom I hasten."

The official was stunned by his answer. "No one has ever spoken so audaciously to me," he said.

"Perhaps," the saint remarked, "that is because you've never spoken to a bishop before. In all else we are meek, the most humble of all. But when it concerns God, and people rise up against Him, then we, counting everything else as naught, look to Him alone. Then fire, sword, wild beasts and iron rods that rend the body, serve to fill us with joy, rather than fear." Reporting to Valens that St. Basil was not to be intimidated, Modestus said, "Emperor, we stand defeated by a leader of the Church."
Basil the Great again showed firmness before the emperor and his retinue and made such a strong impression on Valens that the emperor dared not give in to the Arians demanding Basil's exile. "On the day of Theophany, amidst an innumerable multitude of the people, Valens entered the church and mixed in with the throng, in order to give the appearance of being in unity with the Church. When the singing of Psalms began in the church, it was like thunder to his hearing. The emperor beheld a sea of people, and in the altar and all around was splendor; in front of all was Basil, who acknowledged neither by gesture nor by glance, that anything else was going on in church." Everything was focused only on God and the altar-table, and the clergy serving there in awe and reverence.

Sickly since youth, the toil of teaching, his life of abstinence, and the concerns and sorrows of pastoral service took their toll on him. St. Basil died on January 1, 379 at age 49. Shortly before his death, the saint blessed St. Gregory the Theologian to accept the See of Constantinople.

Upon the repose of St. Basil, the Church immediately began to celebrate his memory. Saint Basil is also known as the revealer of heavenly mysteries. His honorable head is in the Great Lavra on Mt. Athos.

In some countries it is customary to sing special carols today in honor of St. Basil. He is believed to visit the homes of the faithful, and a place is set for him at the table. People visit the homes of friends and relatives, and the mistress of the house gives a small gift to the children. A special bread (Vasilopita) is blessed and distributed after the Liturgy. A silver coin is baked into the bread, and whoever receives the slice with the coin is said to receive the blessing of St. Basil for the coming year.