(The following is a slightly edited version of a sermon delivered at St. Barbara’s. With Great Lent approaching (begins March 18) and the Church’s emphasis on personal relationships during the Fast, some of these thoughts may prove beneficial as we prepare for Pascha).
This morning I would like to speak generally about a topic that, in my limited experience, is rarely discussed outside of a seminary, clergy gathering or confession. It is, nevertheless, something for everyone to think about periodically for their own well-being, the overall health of the Church and perhaps for society in general.
Let me start with a brief description of a local happening. In April 2023, a large, unfinished apartment complex, just around the corner, was totally destroyed by fire, reduced overnight to ashes. What took months to build was gone in three or four hours. Arson was officially deemed as the cause of the blaze. Fortunately, no lives were lost, nor were any nearby structures affected.
In a way, that tragic event is a metaphor for life. Anything worthwhile or constructive takes time, patience and effort. Its destruction, however, is swift and easy to achieve. That for which others labor many months, years, even a lifetime, can be ruined completely, almost in an instant, given the right conditions.
We can apply these same thoughts to the life of the Church. Consider first, how difficult it is for many people on a spiritual quest to find the path that leads to Christ. Think about the time they put into a search. Then follows the prayer and study, not to mention the friendships they develop along the way. Finally, they reach the point where they have readied themselves for baptism, where they can say with all sincerity: “We have seen the True Light, we have received the Heavenly Spirit, we have found the True Faith, worshipping the undivided Trinity…” (A hymn at the end of the Divine Liturgy).
Look also at people who have been in the Church for decades, perhaps from infancy. Their entire life, their identity, is bound up with God’s household.
Now, consider in the words of our Diocesan Chancellor, Fr. Marcus Burch, consider how fragile is the spiritual life of any given parish, of any parishioner. To be sure, the Church overall, world-wide, is strong beyond our comprehension. It is the Body of Christ. It has weathered historically and triumphantly every conceivable challenge. To paraphrase our Lord, “the gates of Hell cannot, and did not, prevail” (Matthew 16:18).
Be that as it may, local Church communities and individual members are far more susceptible to temptation, vulnerable to the corruption of this world, to mistakes we make in speech and conduct. Knowing this, realizing our neighbor’s vulnerabilities, we certainly – in the words of St. Paul – do not wish to become “stumbling blocks,” placing obstacles before others, pushing them away from Christ rather than bringing them into His presence (1 Corinthians 8).
Sadly, such tragedies occur. People, as well as whole parishes, are easily led astray by well-intentioned but misinformed or misguided individuals. To be sure, none of us wants to admit that he or she may be guilty of contributing to such things, but it does happen, often without any knowledge of our errors.
Hearkening back to our opening remarks, it becomes far too easy to destroy, rather than to build, to weaken – almost without effort – the faith and zeal of others, through indifference, flippant remarks, personal criticisms, and a cynical outlook on life. Much more difficult – and this would be the point – much more difficult, but so necessary, is to bolster the faith of others by holding in our hearts the love and truth of Christ, when such truth must include loving a corrupt world, while affirming its inherent beauty; loving the sinner, accepting him as a brother along with his many faults and weaknesses.
Such a delicate balance, such a fine line believers walk each and every day. That balance enables us not to take any shortcuts, but to do what is most difficult: to lift up the neighbor who has doubts, to bring hope to people on the verge of losing what little faith they possess, recognizing sin wherever it may be, without offering criticisms devoid of compassion and guidance.
Some of the best preachers I ever heard were those who imparted to their audience, through words, a glimpse of the Kingdom. I am sure you have had similar experiences. Their sermons may have contained some harsh analyses of society, but the intention was never simply to tear down the world around them, pointing out imperfections. Heaven in our midst, in spite of sin, was always the focus of their preaching, not the criticisms. Their purpose was not to destroy, but to build, to enlighten. One could feel the adoration they possessed of God’s Kingdom, their willingness to sacrifice everything if needed in order to share that reality with others. Heaven was their ultimate home and everyone knew it.
I have always marveled at such individuals, not simply out of respect for their “quote” achievements, but because of their ceaseless devotion that, frankly, made their words come alive, however modest or scholarly. They walked admirably that fine line of a Christian, pointing out the roads that lead to destruction, while guiding their audience to a higher and better way of life.
I offer these simple thoughts as something that might move us to desire the same qualities as great leaders in our midst today, and “those who have gone to their rest before us.” We owe them much, including the example of how the Faith, when authentically lived and preached, is much more than an indictment against anything and everything that is “quote” non-Christian around us. The Good News is meant to offer, not resentment and confusion, but hope and clarity to its adherents, and to those who have not yet discovered the authentic Christ. May we be given the wisdom and strength to discern and follow this divine path. This, especially, as enter the Pre-Lenten season on February 18, the Sunday of Zacchaeus.