Upper Room Media Blogs

Let Your Eyes be Filled with Light

Let Your Eyes be Filled with Light

Adapted from a sermon by Fr Daniel Fanous

Matthew 6:19-33

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” – Matthew 6:21. This is a vital reminder to lay treasures in heaven and not possession on earth.

Jesus goes on to say, “The lamp of the body is the eye. If therefore your eye is good, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in you is darkness, how great is that darkness!”

This is strange comparison made by our Lord. He first talks about treasures in Heaven and then diverts to the lamp of the body being the eye. They don’t seem to be related, but if you look closely, the relation becomes clear. Whatever your heart treasures, your eye will naturally be drawn to.

Why does He refer to the eye as the lamp of the body? The word lamp in Greek means source or window. The eye is the window of the body, it is the entry point for light to enter the body. But what is the light that comes to us?

St Cyril of Alexandria says, “Before the coming of our Saviour, the Father of darkness, Satan, made the world dark and blackened all things with an intellectual bloom. In this state of affairs, the Father gave us the Son, Jesus to be a lamp to the world to illuminate with divine light and to rescue us from satanic darkness.”

Furthermore, the gospel of John says, “And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it” (John 1:5). Christ is the source of light. Light is an energy and we know energy must always extend from an energy source. By extension, Christ is the lamp and our eyes will never see light unless they see Christ. Where your treasure is, your heart will be also for your eyes are ever upon the desires of your heart.

For the eyes to see and recognise Christ, they must be functional. If the eye is good then the entire body will be full of light. The actual translation for the word, ‘good’ is ‘seen.’ If the eye is seen then the entire body will be full of light. When the eye is fixated on the seen, life will have a single purpose with no confusion for seeing truth.

If the eye is bad then the whole body will be filled with darkness. The Greek translation for the word, ‘bad’ is, ‘disease.’ If the eye is disease then nothing you do will allow light to travel through. We must be conscientious in protecting our eyes from any sources of harm. Another requirement for eyes to function is the presence of light. Eyes cannot function without light, they can’t retain health unless there is a source of light. In babies for example, if they are starved of light, their eyes will not be able to develop into functioning eyes that bring images to the body. Receiving of light is what ensures eyes can grow and function appropriately.

When the eyes are starved of light, they adapt to the darkness. They begin to hallucinate and see things that aren’t there. First, they see moving patterns and then turn they see full blown images. For our eyes to be functional, they need the light of Christ. This is why Christ says, “But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in you is darkness, how great is that darkness!”

St John Chrysostom says, “If we destroy our eyes which ought to give light to the rest of our bodies, by what means are we going to see clearly? For when the pilot is drowned, when the candle is put out, when the general is taken prisoner what sort of hope will remain for those that are under his command?”

But more than this – if our eyes are diseased and deprived of life, we are not only in darkness but we begin to hallucinate. Our sense of right and wrong becomes distorted and we do not know how to act. We become angry irrationally, we judge inaccurately, we imagine people have said things against us, we create false scenarios and negative perceptions of other people and then act upon these.

Amid all this turmoil, what we see most clearly is who we actually are. A painter will see the world in colour, a builder will see the world in measurements and a musician perceives the world in sounds. We see as we are. Somebody that is full of anger and hate can only see other angry and hateful people. Somebody that is insecure feels threatened by everyone around them.

If you have murky vision, everything looks dirty; nothing looks clean. But if you have clear vision everything looks beautiful. Father Bishoy of Alexandria was an example of someone so filled with light that he could only see good in other people. When someone would come to him and say that they spent all night thinking sinful thoughts, Father Bishoy would see this person’s capacity for contemplation. When someone confessed that they had spent all night parting, he saw the person’s capacity to pray all night. This is why Christ could only see good in the sinners that came to Him in repentance. Mary Magdalene came to Him as a prostitute, He saw the thief on the Cross but both gained the Kingdom.

May we open our eyes, purify our vision and see Christ as He is where His light not only purifies my eyes but will help them grow so that I can see everyone like Christ sees them. Let us understand the symptoms of disease. If I can only see evil, mistakes, darkness and malice in people around me then I know there is a problem with my eyes, and not those who I see. When I have conversations with my friends, what do I say about other people? Let us purify our eyes so that our interactions remain pure also. May we learn to see how Christ sees. May Christ be our eternal source of light.

Busyness: The Illness of Our Time

by Veronia
Original post by Becoming Fully Alive blogsite

I believe we all have terminal cancer. From the moment of our conception we go through this slow progression towards our own death. Regardless of the type of cancer we have and the speed at which it is growing death is a reality for all, whether we have a few months to live or many years.

In the current generation each of us is encountering and experiencing the disease of this age: busyness. It has become the norm; if one is not busy then something is wrong with them … they must be lazy or intellectually deficient.

We are constantly running around from one thing to the next and when we look back on our day or week it’s all a blur. We feel less and less satisfied and fulfilled.

Since having grown up most of my life in a slow-paced country and then moving to a much faster paced lifestyle, it has been and continues to be a huge struggle for me to adjust.

I have been reading a book this Lent that has really enlightened me about this struggle.

The book talks about despondency and our relationship to time. Despondency is given the definition of the failure to care about things that matter, for example our spiritual life and the care of our neighbor.

Despondency happens as a result of our busyness. We lose our desire to grow and be, our desire to dream and wonder, and our desire for deep intimacy. We as humans choose a busy life to escape the reality of our pain and suffering. Our minds as a result abandons the pain of caring. We lose the capacity to focus, to encounter and love which in turn provokes a toxic kind of emptiness – a vacuum that attracts all manner of distraction, restlessness, rumination, anxiety, fear and lethargy.

Despondency causes us to move from living to existing.

The root of despondency is the broken relationship we have with and our perception of time. We have confined our notions of time to fleeting moments throughout our life. We despise time as we always complain we don’t have enough of it as it is constantly ‘flying by.’

Through the Incarnation of Jesus Christ, Christ has sanctified time. Time is no longer a ticking bomb counting down to our final moment. Without Christ, time enslaves us whereas in Christ time is liberating and time, most importantly, is relational.

Yes we live in chronological time but through the incarnation, where the One who is out of time came in time, made time eternal. Despondency traps us in chronological time where there is only despair and it makes us constantly want to escape from the present moment. The mind prefers thinking about either the past or the future as they are both the constructs of the mind’s own doing and our mind can control them. The present moment is outside of the mind’s control and therefore is completely ignored.

We desire to be ‘anywhere but here; any moment but now.’ We have become dissatisfied with our present. In that way time has become our enemy, a prison in which we find ourselves locked up in leading to our own self-destruction.

Man now has the ability to live in the present moment, where Christ is. Christ is in the now. Eternity is now.

Only in the present moment can I meet with Christ and only the in the present moment can I dine with my fellow brethren. Christ is not in my past ruminations and He is certainly not in my future fantasies. We have given our minds so much control that we can no longer tolerate being present. Our minds have become the author of our stories of despair and as a result our negative fantasies become more attractive to us.

We become so focused on getting to the next big thing… the next holiday, the next event, next weekend, our next meal. We no longer know or want to be present and focused with the task at hand, we no long focus on the person in front of us or enjoy the magnificent experience before us.

The here and now is not about the duration of time but about my state of being. The present moment is not measured by clocks or determined by the mind but it is experienced by the heart. In the present moment we are transformed, we become more watchful, attentive and sober.

We are able to experience.

We are able to enjoy every moment that has been presented to us, no matter where we are or who we are with. Because every time we are present we meet with Christ regardless.

One of the fruits of despondency is lukewarm prayers because we lack the ability to be present. We then question why prayer seems like I am talking to a brick wall and why I haven’t experienced the joy and transformative life of prayer.

Unfortunately our society is so good at deceptively allowing despondency to creep into our lives with the bombardment of technology and work.

Fortunately for those in Christ and in the Church, the Church continually calls us all who are wandering back into Life, back into the present moment. One beautiful way She has done this is through the Divine Liturgy. In Liturgy we experience, if we are present, the eternal now. Christ meets us where we are as heaven and earth are united.

Liturgy has no longer become the centre of our worship but the centre of our inconvenience as we want to get Liturgy ‘out of the way,’ so we can socialise or get to Sunday school etc. We gaze up during Liturgy thinking about what we will eat after or where we will go.

Liturgy is the pinnacle of the present moment but we despise it, as we cannot stand the present moment.

Thank God for this season of Lent where the Church gives us things to practice living in the present moment. It’s a time to slow down, to attend liturgies, and to wait on God in prayer.

To paraphrase Kallistos Ware, the most important time you are in is now, the most important place you are is the one you are in now and the most important person there is, is the one you are with now.

Let’s be in the now to meet Christ and to meet each other where healing and transformation may abound for all.

I challenge you today to practice being present in the remaining time of Lent and hopefully beyond.

Quiet down your mind about thinking about tomorrow while you are present with the one sitting in front of you today.

Be present in whichever task you are doing now and if you have the urge to escape by pick up your phone for example, then wait a few minutes, don’t act on impulse and wait for the urge to pass.

Let’s switch off our fantasies and ruminations and instead switch on our hearts and be attentive to the here and now.

The present is not an emptiness but a Fullness.

Original blog found at – http://becomingfullyalive.com/busyness-the-illness-of-our-time/

Finding One’s Calling In Life

by John
Original post by Becoming Fully Alive blog site

I wanted to share this simple but powerful pamphlet I stumbled upon on my visit to St Vladimir’s Seminar by the late Fr Thomas Hopko. It is a refreshing take on answering the question “what’s my calling in life?” Although many of these are highlighted in the pamphlet itself, I wanted to share some of my favourite:

“God knows every person from before the foundation of the world and provides their unique life and the specific conditions of their earthly way that are literally the best possible conditions for them.”

This is a convicting statement as Fr. Hopko explains that it is pride that leads us to say things like, if only I would have been born in this time period, or into a wealthy family, or this or that way… We think we know better than God what is best for us! It is an awe-inspiring and humbling thought to know that God has placed us exactly where and when we need to be, and given us everything we need.

Another quote that touched me was:

“…’form of life’ is not necessarily a job or profession. For example, some people may be called to suffer on this earth and to bear the results of fallen humanity in the most violent manner—to be victimised by disease, affliction, or both physical and mental disability; to be the objects of other people’s cares or disdain.”

Our vocation isn’t necessarily tied to what we do in this world, but rather who we are becoming. Being a doctor, lawyer, or engineer should not be an identity but rather a means to an end. Furthermore, we are instructed to bear illnesses that come to us patiently knowing that it is God who has allowed them and is using this vocation of suffering as a means for salvation.

This pamphlet also touches on the ‘ways of salvation’ that the Lord has given us:

“Some will sanctify their lives being married; others will be single. Some will do it in clerical orders; others as lay people. Some will be monastic; most will live in the everyday secular world.”

But it also affirms the vocation we share in common:

“In a certain sense, every person has the same vocation, which is to be a saint… We can cooperate with God. We can share His holiness. We can become, as the saints themselves teach us, all that God Himself is by His gracious action in our lives”

These last two quotes really sum up the entire matter for me:

“In the eyes of God none is better than the other. None is higher or more praiseworthy. Each must find his or her own way and glorify God through it. Ultimately this is all that matters”

“Being faithful were we are is the basic sign that we will God’s will for our lives”

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! (download by clicking this link)

Original blog found at – http://becomingfullyalive.com/finding-ones-calling-in-life/

The Perfect Fast for Lent

The Perfect Fast for Lent

Adapted from a sermon by Fr Sam Fanous

Matthew 6:1-18

The Gospel reading this Sunday explains to us ‘how’ to fast during Lent. This is the most powerful time of the year in which your spiritual life can be recharged. If we ignore it and we do nothing for the next 40 days and we reach Holy Week, how can we expect to reap the fruits of our labours in Holy Week if we’ve ignored God the whole 40 days?

Holy Week is a journey, a climax of everything that we do in the next 40 days. When we ponder on the question “Why do we fast? Why is it that the church does something that makes our life difficult? Why is it that when I have a nice steak in front of me during this period, I have to say no? Do we like to see people suffering?” We have to make reference back to what Jesus did. Jesus lived His whole life on earth as one movement, from the moment of His birth to one movement on the cross. That cross was pure suffering and also the greatest moment in the history of humanity. Jesus Himself is not a man. He did not appear in history in the year dot. He was before all ages and was equal to God in essence, so the man that we saw on earth is Himself God. But as a free choice He chose to empty himself, to deny Himself, His power, His glory and His throne, for the sake of creatures who were ungrateful. For the sake of creatures who needed salvation. That is really the starting point of the change in all of history and why we mark BC or AD as the beginning of human history as we know it.

So, we wonder, if this is God’s personality and if God is living within us, is this the personality that we must have? A self-sacrificing personality? One that doesn’t satisfy its own desires time and time again?

Man is a composite being, we are body and spirit. In saying “No, I won’t eat this burger. I’ll go hungry for a period of time” we say “no” to the body in the small things and are able to say “yes” to the Spirit. Some people think that it’s okay to fast and just say “no” to the body. This has one of two outcomes. Firstly, we will achieve nothing from the fast. I may lose some weight; however, I may achieve nothing spiritually. Secondly, I will fall into spiritual pride. Similar to the Pharisees when they fasted, they told everyone about it, they walk around saying “look at me, this is what I’m doing for God.” Christ would say to that person your reward was from the praise of men. The most important type of fasting is to fast saying “no” to the body in addition to saying “yes” to the Spirit.

How do we fast? Practically in the Orthodox Church and in every Christian Church up until the 16th century there were certain foods we avoid. We are basically vegan. That means no dairy, no meat and in this particular fast, no seafood. More importantly, Lent should be combined with a period of abstinence according to everyone’s ability, where we don’t eat for a certain period of the day. We then break it with simple food because we’re reminded that the more we fill our stomach, the more we’ve satisfied our body and the weaker our Spirit becomes.

In the book of Isaiah, we see the perfect example of fasting. God is talking to the people of Israel and says.

“‘Why have we fasted,’ they say, ‘and You have not seen? Why have we afflicted our souls, and You take no notice?’ In fact, in the day of your fast you find pleasure, And exploit all your laborers. Is this not the fast that I have chosen: To loose the bonds of wickedness, To undo the heavy burdens, To let the oppressed go free, And that you break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, And that you bring to your house the poor who are cast out; When you see the naked, that you cover him, And not hide yourself from your own flesh?” (Isaiah 58:3, 6-7)

This is the perfect fast. Fasting is not to make myself miserable. It is to deny myself and say yes to everyone around me. It’s to live for other people and look around with the eyes of Christ. When Christ saw a sinner woman or a tax collector, He didn’t condemn them. He loved them. All of us know someone who is suffering. They may not be starving, but they may be starving for companionship. They may be lonely. They may have nowhere to celebrate Easter. People are suffering but we close our eyes to it. All we have to do is open our eyes and look and we will see exactly who needs our love. Lent is the time to forget the concept in this world that we live for ourselves. We are not here to live for ourselves, we’re here to live for other people and to live for God.

The time of Lent is also the time of prayer. Without prayer, your fasting is useless. The only way to have healing like it says in Isaiah is by prayer and fasting. Think of lent this period as the start of a relationship between you and God. Our relationship with God is like that with our best friend. It is not for Him to be distant and every now and again when I need something to awkwardly come into His presence and speak to him. It is to build a relationship where we are best friends where we know each other. He knows my secrets. I know His secrets.

If you feel as if your prayers hit the ceiling and bounce back, there is a solution to this. Combine fasting with prayer, come before God not just physically hungry but spiritually hungry. Feel in yourself physical food has no sustenance for me. Any kind of spiritual goal you want to achieve in your life, it should be done without anyone knowing. Whilst God sees us in secret, He rewards us openly.

Let’s start tomorrow. Let us try not to make excuses. Don’t ask questions. Don’t make it easier for yourself. Don’t give yourself shortcuts. This is the one time of the year where we sacrifice for God. Only He knows what you’re sacrificing. The more you sacrifice the more you feel hungry and combining this with prayer, the sweeter it will be as an offering to God.

Are You Sure You’re On The Right Road?

“If you’re wrong about being right with God, then it really doesn’t matter what else you might be right about.”

By: Fr Anthony Messeh

Original post by Fr. Anthony Messeh blog site

About 15 years ago, a friend of mine and I set out on a road trip to visit another friend who lived about three hours away. The route to get there was fairly simple; it was one highway the entire way. Neither of us owned a GPS at the time, but we didn’t need one. We had something just as good… MAPQUEST!

The directions were clear and straightforward: take Route 50 for 140 miles, then once you hit a city called Westover, MD, the destination will be on your right after ½ mile.

Simple. Straightforward. A piece of cake. What could go wrong?

Well… to make a long story short…SOMETHING WENT WRONG!

Unbeknownst to us at the time, we somehow managed to exit off of Route 50 and onto Route 301 mistakenly. Route 301 goes NORTH and we need to be going EAST. So instead of being in Westover, Maryland, we found ourselves in Glasgow, Delaware!

(I say “we” but really it was HIM; my friend was the one driving, not me. I was actually asleep in the passenger seat at the time and had I been awake, surely we wouldn’t have gotten lost 🙂 )

We drove for almost an hour on Route 301 – the whole time clueless to the fact that we were on the wrong road. But the real problem wasn’t that we were on the wrong road; the real problem was that we were on the wrong road THINKING that we were on the right road.

Let me repeat: the real problem wasn’t that we were on the wrong road; the real problem was that we were on the wrong road THINKING that we were on the right road.

Because we thought we were on the right road, we didn’t stop and ask for directions… we didn’t check a map… we weren’t worried or concerned in the least. As far as we were concerned, everything was fine. The sun was shining… the birds were singing… we were cruising with the windows down in my 1999 Mitsubishi Galant.

Everything seemed fine.

But it wasn’t. We were on the wrong road. And every minute we were on that wrong road was taking us one step further away from our destination.

One of the earliest writings in Christianity is a book called the Didache, also known as “The Lord’s Teaching through the Twelve Apostles to the Nations.” It was written in the first century by the 12 guys who knew Jesus best and its purpose was to convey to the world His teachings.

Listen to what the first sentence in the book says:

“There are two ways, one of life and one of death; but a great difference between the two ways.” Didache 1:1

Simple and to the point. There are only two roads in life; if you’re not on one then you’re on the other. They may look similar in the beginning, but they are as different as can be. One road leads to life; the other to death.

SO MAKE SURE YOU’RE ON THE RIGHT ROAD!

“Ok, thanks for the public service announcement Fr. Anthony, but you don’t have to worry about me. I’m ok. I’m definitely on the right road. I mean, I’m a “good” person. I go to church almost every Sunday… I help old ladies across the street when I can… and I read YOUR BLOG faithfully every day! So surely I’m on the right road, aren’t I?”

Look… I’m not saying that you’re not on the right road, but I’m saying that you need to check. My friend and I spent an hour driving down the wrong road thinking that we were on the right road. And during that entire time, we didn’t have a clue we were lost. We thought everything was fine. But in reality, we were lost. We were so lost that we didn’t even know we were lost. And every passing second that went by just made us more and more lost…

…UNTIL WE REALISED IT! Once we realised it, everything was fine. We turned around and retraced our steps and got back onto Route 50. Getting back on the right road isn’t the problem; the problem is REALIZING that I’m not currently on it.

So which road are you on? Be honest. Are you walking on the path of life? Are you deepening your relationship with God daily? Are you growing in the grace and knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ? Are you becoming more like Him?

Don’t just say “I’m not doing anything bad.” That isn’t the question. The question is “are you growing closer to God and closer to His image within you?”

Please don’t think that I’m judging you or trying to scare you; I’m not. I’m just asking questions. One of the things that I learned from that road trip is that it never hurts to stop and ask for directions every now and then – especially when you’re headed to a destination that you’ve never been to before.

Why? Because you don’t want any surprises at the end of the road.

“Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven. Many will say to Me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?’ And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness!’” Matthew 7:21-23

Original blog found at- http://www.franthony.com/blog/are-you-sure-youre-on-the-right-road

Receiving The Lord

Receiving The Lord

Adapted from a sermon by Fr Chad Hatfield

Luke 2:21-39

The Feast of the meeting of our Lord in the Temple is one that is often forgotten from our memory and experience, however, this year we are blessed that it falls on a Sunday. In Orthodox tradition, when we gather in the liturgy temporarily, we recreate the temporary setting of the temple – the place where the bloodless sacrifice is to be offered.

This Feast is the last of the Great Incarnation Feasts and ties together what the Church is presenting to us in the incarnation Feasts. The first of these Incarnation Feasts is the Feast of the Nativity. From the beginning of the Church year we understand that the Lord has come seeking you and I. It is at the heart of what it means to be a Christian. It is written in scripture that this is incomprehensible by Jews and Muslims and other religions that God would humble himself to take our humanity in every way. That ours is a God who humbles himself to come to seek out you and I.

This message of God seeking us, is one that God himself spoke from the beginning of time, in the opening words of Genesis. Even in the disobedience of Adam and Eve, God seeks these beings who are primary elements of the universe and have come from dirt. Like Adam and Eve, we also are made of primary elements of the universe, we are dirt, we are minerals. Science today tells us we are primarily made of water – we really aren’t much.

We must remember that we have come from dust and will return to dust. However, we reflect the Glory of God, because God has taken on those primary elements and formed you and me who bears His image and His likeness. He is the One who breathed the breath of life into us.

God told man in paradise that we could have anything we want, save one thing – avoid this tree. What Adam and Eve lacked was good judgement, so they had to the learn the consequences. The Father of the Lie said to Eve, “Go ahead. Eat of the tree. Then you will have no need for Him. No need for the Life Source.”

When Eve presents the forbidden to Adam, he simply partakes of it himself. The Glory of God, the light which clothed them in their nakedness, was dimmed. It is here where God calls to them “Where are you?”. He still calls out those exact words to you and I. It is in the foundational book of Genesis that we see that God promises that He will not leave us captured in that state of Sin and Death.

This Feast begins a trajectory in which we can see God at work, bringing forth our Salvation and the opportunity to be restored to Paradise as was intended at the beginning of Creation. Throughout the Old Testament, God continued to proclaim the coming of the Messiah, where the prophets were sent to bring back the lost. We can see, it is all about waiting for the Lord to act. We see the trajectory of this Feast moving through the Scriptures where finally, the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, fulfilling this path of Salvation.

Simeon, in his old age, sees the Messiah and is able to say, “Lord, let your servant depart in peace for my eyes have seen your salvation” (Luke 2:29-30). God has moved and shown us our salvation. The incarnational feasts become a recognition of the truth of God’s love for you and I, found in the image of the babe in the manger in Bethlehem. In Bethlehem there is a great and open field where Passover Lambs are kept to be offered at the Temple without blemish or spot. Our Lord Himself is that Sacrificial Lamb, born without blemish or spot.

This Feast is known by another name, “The Purification of St Mary the Virgin”. We are told in the Gospel today the law was kept in its fullness. Anna the prophetess witnesses it. Simeon recognises it and it is transfigured, no longer simply the rules, but it is the very path to salvation by God’s great act of love – the giving of Himself for Salvation. We hear these words of fulfilment in the Epiphany, where God proclaims: “this is My beloved Son in whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17).

This is the challenge for us today in a world that is so busy. There are so many voices, so much noise, we struggle to hear the voice of the Lord. We cannot even recognise Him in the crowd like Simeon did when he took Him in His arms. We struggle. But our good and faithful Lord calls us as He called Adam and Eve.

On this Feast we thank God for His goodness and the path to restoration to a life of Salvation. But we must not forget the vehicle that intercedes for us and brought us this Salvation, the Mother of Our Lord, the New Eve. Our First Mother, Eve, in her disobedience, brings us sin and death. Mary, in her obedience, brings us life.

The icons we see day to day show her presenting us Jesus, our Salvation. In the Russian Orthodox Church, a very popular icon associated with this Feast is called ’She Who is the Softener of Evil Hearts.’ She is not holding Jesus in this icon, rather, she holds a sword, lifted from the scripture in Luke 2, where we are told that “this child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce [St Mary’s] own soul too.” (Luke 2:34-35).

So in the commemoration of this Feast, we should rejoice in God’s goodness and thank God for the obedience of our Pure Mother Mary, that she will soften our evil hearts so that we may be prepared, like the aged Simeon, to receive the Lord into our lives.

Filling the Gaps

Filling the Gaps

by Bethany Kaldas

‘When You said, “Seek My face,”

My heart said to You, “Your face, Lord, I will seek.”’

Psalm 27:8

I know a lot of regular people who think they are terrible human beings—I’m sure you do too. You might even be one of them. It’s easy to understand why. After all, we get front row seats to our own misdeeds, every cutting remark, every envious thought or impure desire. If we look at humanity in general, we see selfishness and greed sown into almost every action, every word, and when we dare to look within, we can see the monstrous weeds those seeds grow into.

Lately, I find myself asking: Why do people do evil in the first place? If I’m being perfectly candid with you, it was my own sin that inspired such a question. I constantly find myself in the dilemma Paul captured so perfectly, of doing what he willed not to do and not doing what he willed to do, but in my own life. I follow impulses I know will end badly, boarding trains of thought destined for ruin. And I find myself asking—why? Why do I do these things?

I know, I know—we’re selfish. I’ve asked this question before and that’s the answer I most commonly receive. Humans are innately selfish, we’ve evolved to put ourselves first. But even if that’s true, I still don’t think that can fully explain sin. After all, some—perhaps most or even, all—sins are really sins against ourselves more than anyone else. Especially in modern times, we’re constantly doing things we know are bad for us. We are not only enemies to each other, but our own worst enemies too. And a lot of the time, we know that very well.

So…why? And Where does it come from?

‘Where do wars and fights come from among you? Do they not come from your desires for pleasure that war in your members? You lust and do not have. You murder and covet and cannot obtain. You fight and war. Yet you do not have because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask amiss, that you may spend it on your pleasures.’

James 4:1-3

We have a desire that is not sated, a longing not fulfilled. This verse from James implies it is a desire for pleasure—and I do not deny that at all—but if pleasure really is the missing piece, then why are we not fulfilled by sin? Why does the glutton not stop once he has cleaned out his fridge? Why don’t the proud content themselves with the admiration of their loved one, instead of continuing to demand it of strangers? If pleasure was what we needed, then sin should be self-defeating—once we have sinned, we should sin less. So why does reality tell us the opposite?

‘You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.’

St Augustine of Hippo

I want to say that every human who ever lived has been seeking God their whole lives—every single one. Just wait—hear me out.

We were made in the image of God—in the image of Love Himself. Naturally, all those made in His image seek love. Surely that is easy enough to accept—there’s not a person out there who doesn’t need to be loved, it’s just part of what we are.

But we are fallen—we are broken. We are full of cracks and holes and we want nothing more than to fill them—but our image is distorted, deformed. We are filled with a desperate need…but we do not remember what it is for.

And so, we search.

‘And out of that hopeless attempt has come nearly all that we call human history—money, poverty, ambition, war, prostitution, classes, empires, slavery—the long terrible story of man trying to find something other than God which will make him happy.’

C.S. Lewis (Mere Christianity)

We seek to be filled, so we overeat, or eat the wrong things, or abuse the planet and each other in the hopes of finding something that will satiate our empty hearts.

We seek to be strong, so we demean others, or force ourselves over them, or spit on them, we hate them, we murder them with words and works.

We seek to be happy, so we act rashly for short-term gain and long-term loss, we follow our instincts and impulses, blind guides that promise a thrill but leave us empty and more broken than we began.

We seek to be loved and to love, and so we lust, we lie, we flirt and demand attention—wherever we can find it, even if we know it will end in heartbreak and even deeper loneliness.

We seek to be valuable, so we puff up, we focus on ourselves, we neglect our kin, we envy others, we sabotage them, we sabotage ourselves and then expect pity and wallow in the dread that nobody cares.

I say these of myself first and foremost, but I believe most, if not all, of us can sympathise.

If you take any sin, and you look at it hard—you dig deep down to the roots, I think you’ll find that sin is not, in fact, a desire for evil. It is hamartia—it is ‘missing the mark.’ It is a misplaced, misremembered, deformed desire for the only One Who can fulfil that desperate yearning…it is a desire for all God is, but without God Himself. It is a failure to remember that He is what we need—that He is our Beloved, that He is our satisfaction, our strength, our joy, our love and value. He is everything—He is oureverything. But we forget, we seek Him without Him—we seek after gifts, forgetting the Giver, forgetting that it was Him, and nothing else, that we actually need.

‘Man is a hungry being. But he is hungry for God. Behind all the hunger of our life is God. All desire is finally a desire for Him.’

Alexander Schmemann (For the Life of the World)

Consider even the very first sin of man. Was the great crime of Eden disobedience? Was it gluttony? Lust for power? Was it the desire to be like God?

No, it could not be—we are calledto be like God—it is the goal of a Christian life. That wasn’t the problem. The desire to be like God is only an issue when you want to do it apart from God Himself.

Alexander Schmemann goes on to describe the forbidden fruit as such in his book, For the Life of the World:

‘Not given, not blessed by God, it was food whose eating was condemned to be communion with itself alone, and not with God.’

Alexander Schmemann (For the Life of the World)

The nature of sin has not changed. The brokenness of humanity is not only the holes we now bear, but our desperation to fill them with all the wrong things. Our hearts are all fractured—if someone says otherwise, they are in the worst denial. Sin is like trying to fix a broken mirror by shoving a wooden plank into the cracks—it only makes the holes bigger, it only distorts the image further.

We all desire to be whole, but it is not possible to be whole without Him—because He is the piece of us that is missing. Perhaps, if we recognise this, we will be one step closer to actually searching for Him. And when we do, we find Him waiting, with open arms, full of all those things we need to be whole again…because it was always Him.

‘O Lord, You are the portion of my inheritance and my cup;

You maintain my lot. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places;

Yes, I have a good inheritance.’

Psalm 16:5-6

From Theology, with love: Eponymous

From Theology, with love: Eponymous

by Tom Seodyu

My thanks to A,

with ornery irony,

you above others are responsible

for my most mature spiritual ideas

and incendiary hopes for this life.

You’ve asked me why I even bother with this (and you).

And again, I have repeated the only real answer I can give –

it’s because you have a beautiful soul, and are a misunderstood sort.

I understand why you hate this answer. Even more so because you don’t believe I am being sincere:

‘I’m just another person he has decided to be nice to today.’

‘He’s only listening to me because he’s naïve for the church and rituals.’

That you’ve mistaken me for a liar makes it hard for me not to feel hurt. But I know why you would think that way – that I’m some “Sunday school agent” here to pretend that he cares long enough to return you to “the quack priests who cannot give [you] a straight answer”, who are totally worthless and despicable to you. You’ve even asked before, “if you really understand how incompetent our church is, why don’t you speak up about it?” Because I learned long ago that this earthly body of Christ does not need any more ‘fixing’ by way of noise, and recommendations, and complaints (especially Facebook rants). Rather, it needs Christ; examples of His love, and a serious personal start – and perhaps, if I myself cannot succeed in setting this example, and inspire change through that love, then I am another mouthy critic. Though I am too ironic, and sarcastic to be that example…

I know that you are a sweet person (since you care so much about those who are nice to you and the suffering of innocents,) which begs the first question you asked. What is all this for? Because of all the commandments you had to stomach being raised here; of all the beliefs that we possess, the one that you feel most betrayed by; is the commandment to love our neighbour.

“If it’s real then why is it, when we try to love our neighbour, we act more out of pressure than genuine love?”

Perhaps it’s our poor understanding of Gospels and the story of the Good Samaritan:

A man left beaten and half-dead, ignored by the priest and the Levite but rescued by the Samaritan; bandaged with oil and wine, and taken into an inn in care and mercy. We were told growing up that the Samaritan was the enemy, but because he loved his ‘neighbour’ he overcame this and we are called to become like him and treat everyone like our neighbours with our love. But even atheists can ‘become the Good Samaritan’, loving their neighbor; like we were taught.

But no church father has ever understood the parable like this…

For them, we do not play the role of the Samaritan, but rather the dying man on the road.

Chrysostom wrote:

“Here then was man (that is Adam) lying destitute of the aid of salvation, pierced with the wounds of his sins, whom neither Aaron the high priest passing by could advantage by his sacrifice […] Nor again could his brother Moses [the Levite] assist him by the Law […] Naked and afraid we lie. Until the Good Samaritan – who is Christ – rescues us. He poured in wine, that is, the blood of his passion, and oil, that is, the anointing of the chrism, that pardon might be granted by His blood, sanctification be conferred by the chrism. The wounded parts are bound up by the heavenly physician, and containing a salve within themselves, are by the working of the remedy restored to their former soundness […]”

Since it was Him who first showed us great love through His Incarnation, all humanity is called to love to the end, without exception.

Augustine wrote:

“He shows mercy to us because of His goodness, while we show mercy to one another because of God’s goodness. He has compassion on us so that we may enjoy Him completely, while we have compassion on another that we may completely enjoy Him.”

If we tried to love everyone from our own power, without remembering – and deferring first and foremost to the lover of mankind – how could we not become practitioners of guilt and slide inevitably into hypocrisy and sin in exhaustion? Likewise, if the atheist has no one who loves them and can return to to be refreshed, how can they prevent despair and not abandon their righteous instincts?

Ambrose said:

“Since no one is closer than He who tended to our wounds, let us love Him as our Lord, and let us love Him as our neighbour. Nothing is so close as the head to the members.”

You may despair about your upbringing and your surroundings, but always remember Him, for He is blameless in His love for you. You may not accept this parable, or even believe that this love is a real contending force on this miserable earth. But I see evidence of a girl, who (though, all her life is one long disaster) races eagerly to feel embraced. Her head leaning into the other, cradling into the warm tenderness available for her. Held in the envelopment, she experiences in those moments the idea that she has found a home that reciprocates her – and she thinks, for a single moment, for one absurd second, that it may really be possible that God had sowed this friend into her life.

This leads me to your second question…

Even if, in the end, you still cannot find meaning, or purpose, or drive in your life remember that you and I who are so young have very limited right to nostalgia. You need only to learn what Life is.

Smile sweetly to strangers on your walks.

Learn humility from nature.

Listen to music that makes you want to sing and look ridiculous!

Laugh and be full of good humor.

And young woman,

do not forget to pray.

And with that,

I want you to know that I meant it when I said I loved you.

Christ be with you always.

Walking by Faith

Walking by Faith: A Contemplation on the Man Born Blind

Transcribed sermon by Marc Bastawrous

Passage: John 9:1-38

When we read the story of the man born blind, we notice that Christ does something unusual compared to His other miracles. He puts the healing in the hands of the healed. He doesn’t immediately restore his sight, but asks the man born blind to go and wash in the pool of Siloam.

What is noteworthy in Christ’s words is that at no point did He say, “wash and you will be healed.” There were no guarantees made. In this moment, Christ had picked up some mud, threw it in the man’s face and told him to walk through the town, past all the townspeople, to wash his face for no suspected purpose except to get the mud off his face. The pool was outside the walls of the old city of Jerusalem, approximately 2 km away from where the temple was thought to be. It would take the average person 15 minutes to walk this distance, not to mention he had to navigate through the city without being able to see where he was going.

How would you feel if you were the blind man in this situation? You had sat at the temple for most of your life, you were ignored by the people, you were judged sinner by those that didn’t know you. But then, you hear a Man. You hear a Man say to His disciples, “As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world” (John 9:5). What does this mean? Who is this Man, and could He be the One that you have waited your entire life to hear? This quite possibly could’ve sparked a small glimmer of hope that he would be just like everyone else, that there was hope that he would be able to see.

Alternatively, he could have been at a point where he had lost hope entirely. He had lived his entire life sitting outside the temple, being ignore and judge by the most religious people. At the words of Christ, he could’ve thought to himself, “please don’t. Don’t give me false. Just leave some money and be on your way.”

Still, Jesus draws near to him. To which the blind man may still be wondering if He would mock him. Jesus comes to him and spits on the ground before him. At this point, his heart would have sunk – another mocker. He could’ve been at his lowest and thought, “Ideserve this. I deserve to be shamed. But just leave me alone.”

Jesus takes one step closer and picks up the mud and anoints his eyes. Imagine the heartache he would’ve felt. He would’ve felt like Christ was making fun of him. In case people didn’t realise he didn’t have eyes, he now had mud where his eyes should be.

After all this, our Lord makes a request. “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (John 9:7). I can only imagine what I would have done in this man’s shoes. A beggar that had endured abuse, humiliation and was then told to walk a considerate distance with mud on his face so he could wash with no indication as to what would happen after he washed. It makes sense in hindsight that he would wash and receive his sight, but in the moment, he had no idea.

Something compelled him to walk through the crowds and get out of the city. All logic would have told him to stay where he was and avoid further humiliation. This man thought, “even if I can’t see, I will walk.” He probably tripped a few times along the way but he continued, for he had a goal. You can imagine as he bumped into the crowds, there would have been people that yelled abuse and told him to watch where he was going, yet he continued. He blocked out the noise of the world and remained on the path the Lord had paved. He could’ve stayed at the temple where he was comfortable. But where there is no risk, there is little reward, and had the man born blind man not chosen to take the risk, his story would not have been remembered for generations to come. Despite how the people saw him, there was something in him that knew he wasn’t the product of his parents’ sin; he was fearfully and wonderfully made and the glory of God was about to be revealed in him.

When he finally arrived to Siloam, he would have been tired, bruised even. Logic would tell him that washing his face would only get the mud off. Yet he washed and hoped. In our own lives, there are oftentimes that we cannot see, but we strive to imitate the man born blind, to wash and hope. When we cannot see, logic tells us to grumble, complain and become frustrated. We lose sight of the fact that God is in complete control.

In despair, we say to our Creator;

“Why are you letting me suffer? Why are you putting me through all this pain and anguish and hurt? Why couldn’t you just leave me where I was comfortable?”

I don’t always need to see the road ahead because the One I walk is the Creator of all. The story of Job explains this same concept in the most profound way. Job went through tribulation, unlike anyone has ever seen. He lost his children, his livestock, his wealth and his servants and was left with nothing. Through his suffering, he never cursed God. After 38 chapters of agony, he finally questions God and why He would allow him to suffer and why He would allow his closest friends to think that God was punishing him. God finally responds, but He doesn’t answer Job’s questions but instead asks some of His own.

“Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?”(Job 38:4)

Had Job not been through enough? Is God not meant to heal him at this point, alleviate all his pains? But it was through God’s rebuke that Job was able to say, “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You” (Job 42:5).

Job had heard of God’s comfort before, but it was through his deepest despair that he felt God and he could see that He was sufficient for all his needs. This is what sustains us during times of suffering and it is through our suffering that we are given revelation of God, for it is enough to see Him.

“For we walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Cor. 5:7). To truly exemplify this verse, we cannot look past the man born blind as he stumbled to the pool, being led by faith alone. We can only pray that on our own spiritual journeys, we can continue to walk, even when we cannot see. No matter the tribulation, we keep walking along the path, knowing that God is our eyes. If we hold on to our faith, no tribulation can take it away. This is our strength in all difficulties alike.

Faith is the one thing we can hold on to in this life. No matter what happens in my life, no matter what is taken away from me, if I walk by faith, nothing can harm me. All of it can be used as a catalyst to strengthen my faith. When I stop doubting and remember that my resting place is in the palms of the hands of the Maker of Heaven and Earth, nothing in this world can move me. Even though we cannot see, we are called to walk by faith and look for the glory of God at each new day.

Love by the Foot

Love by the Foot

by Michael Tadros

An ominous darkness is ushered in when the doctor comes back with the latest MRI results. After weeks of testing, the results all point to cancer that will not stop spreading. Yesterday the pancreas, today the liver, tomorrow the lungs. She gathers your mother and loved ones around the hospital bed and informs you it is time to start contemplating your end-of-life plans. She stumbles to say the words: “…a few days, maybe a week.”

What would that patient do in that situation? In the 1980s, psychologists at Skidmore College sought to discover how individuals would behave when given a fictional day and time of their death. In over 1,000 experiments, researchers found that people tended to cling harder to their cultural beliefs by boosting their sense of self-worth. Those individuals, with a hypothetical date and time of death in mind, tended to treat others more contemptuously and violently while caring to fulfil their own desires through nihilistic practices. They gravitated towards drinking, smoking, shopping, and eating in excess, while pushing other people away—sometimes, even their loved ones. The psychologists called this behaviour Terror Management Theory; death anxiety drives people to adopt a defensive mindset and behaviour that protects their own self-esteem.

Essentially most individuals, when armed with the knowledge that their time is limited, will want to conclude their time focusing on themselves and their “happiness.” What would you do after knowing your time on this earth is ending? Generally, no one knows when their final breath will be. Sure, as intellectuals we know the moment is coming, but not precisely when. Christ knew. He knew the exact moment He would be hanging on the Cross and committing His Spirit into the hands of the Father.

Knowing that, then, what did He do before He “breathed His last?” (Mark 15:37). Like a lamb, “He opened not His mouth” (Isaiah 53:7). In front of the scourging and the shame of spitting, “He gave no answer” (Matthew 27:12). Not only did He deny Himself, He took it one step further—the opposite of what individuals normally do in their final hours—He loved. He forgave (Luke 23:24). He took care of His mother and His disciple (John 12:26). He comforted His children who were in tears (Luke 23:28). He was a peacemaker between two kings previously at enmity with each other (Luke 23:12). He healed the ear of one who came to capture Him (Luke 22:51). He even “instituted for us a great mystery” which is, “the partaking of His flesh in bread and wine” (Liturgy of St. Basil the Great).

But He did not stop there. With less than 24 hours remaining in the flesh, Christ washed feet (Liturgy of St Gregory). Why would He, who has the heavens as His throne and the earth as His footstool (Isaiah 66:1), stoop so low in His final moments? The Church teaches us that after washing and drying their feet, He gave His disciples “the ordinance of love and humility, and the remembrance of [His] love for mankind.” (Liturgy of the Waters for Covenant Thursday)

It was a lesson never witnessed before! The Master explained to them “if I then, your Lord and Teacher have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example” (John 13:14-15). By becoming a servant, the Master set a standard for His servants on how to love each other. Not a superficial love centered on the self, but a love that befits how the Master loves us—wholeheartedly, even to the point of death.

Should I not be humbled in front of Him who suffered on my behalf and reciprocate that same love towards my brothers? Rather than being grounded in egotistical practices, I ought to love because He first loved me. Rather than boosting my own self-interest, I ought to wash my brother’s feet because He first accepted to wash mine. As Abba Shenouda the Archimandrite teaches, “We ought to fear Him who poured the water in a bowl and washed the feet of His disciples with His impeccable hands. Let us present Him with good deeds that deserve this great modesty which He carried out for our sake.” (Homily by St. Shenouda the Archimandrite on Covenant Thursday)

The only gesture I can present to Him that is deserving of His great modesty is my love towards my neighbour; a true and faultless love that is completed when I bend down and show my brother the love Christ showed me.

Regardless of whether it is my last few days on earth or I have a lifetime to go, in the realities of my day-to-day life, my Christ-washed feet must be a mirror of the love He first showed me, as “the One who created the world never stops loving His creation, even when that creation does not return His love” (P. Meyendrof, 2019).

Now that I am washed by Christ, my feet are no longer mine, but rather they are “feet that preach the gospel of peace, who bring glad tidings of good things!” (Romans 10:15). Instead of pouring water into a bowl, I should be pouring good deeds of love towards my neighbor, as St. John Chrysostom said, “your Master loved those who hated Him…emulate Him” (St John Chrysostom). I can imitate Christ by making every encounter with my neighbour an encounter with their Master as “theology is most convincing, palpable, and best told in the lives of those who lived theology in the truest sense of that word, as an encounter with God” (Fr Daniel Fanous, 2019) When God encountered me, He loved me by washing my feet, likewise, my encounter with you must also be of love, one foot at a time.