Ephesians 2:14-22 and St. Luke 12:16-21

In this homily, Fr. Anthony reflects on St. Paul’s proclamation that the unity of the Church is not an ideal but a profound reality accomplished in the flesh of Christ. Drawing on Scripture, the Fathers, and even C.S. Lewis’ “deeper magic,” he shows how humanity’s divisions are not healed by sameness, compromise, or civility, but by becoming a new creation through the Cross. True Christian unity demands the death of ego, the resurrection of a new humanity, and a mutual commitment to bear one another’s burdens with patience, repentance, and love. When we refuse this calling, we do not merely disagree—we blaspheme against the very Body that unites us.

In this episode, Fr. Anthony reflects on Christ’s call of St. Matthew as a revelation of the Lord’s pastoral wisdom, patience, and mercy. Drawing on St. John Chrysostom, he shows how Christ approaches each person at the moment they are most able to receive Him, gently leading sinners to repentance while shielding the weak from the self-righteous. The homily invites us to imitate this divine pedagogy—offering mercy before rebuke, healing before judgment, and a way of life that draws others to the knowledge of God.

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Mercy, Not Sacrifice: Christ’s Pastoral Method in the Calling of Matthew

St. Matthew 9:9-13

At that time, as Jesus passed on from there, He saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax office; and He said to him, “Follow Me.” And he rose and followed Him. And as He sat at table in the house, behold, many tax collectors and sinners came and sat down with Jesus and His disciples. And when the Pharisees saw this, they said to His disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But when Jesus heard it, He said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”

 When looking at this encounter, it is important to know the context.  Jesus had been at this for a while.  He had already called at least four of the twelve; Andrew, Peter, James and John, to be his disciples.  Moreover, in addition to them, many others were following him.  He had already been baptized, been tempted, given the Sermon on the Mount and performed several public miracles.

Knowing this allows us to better appreciate Christ, how He operates, and therefore how we might better imitate Him as we claim to operate in + His name.

Example One: Calling the disciples

Let’s go back to His calling the disciples.  Why didn’t He call Matthew at the same time He called Andrew, Peter, James, and John?  St. John Chrysostom indicates that it was Christ’s pastoral heart that determined when we called each of His disciples.  Remember, as the Logos, He shares the Father’s will that “all be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth.” (1 Timothy 2:4).  This means that He addressed people in the time and manner they were most likely to hear.  St. John Chrysostom points out that Matthew’s heart was not open to Christ’s call at the same time as Andrew, Peter, James, and John.  It took miracles and profound teaching to soften His heart for the encounter.  And He didn’t just do this for Matthew, look how long it took for the Apostle Paul!  And perhaps, we can look at long he waited for us!

We should learn from this lesson from Christ’s earthly ministry and imitate Him.  We may need to live among some people for a while, showing the miracle of God’s love working in and through us in the way we act and the things we say, before they are ready to accept an invitation to join us in The Way that heals and perfects. 

Many of us jump the gun; skipping the vital step of living a public life of miraculous love – and then are surprised when the call to “follow Christ” goes unheeded. 

Yes, there are times when the modern equivalents of scribes and pharisees need to be confronted, but once again, let’s imitate Christ and let them out themselves when they question our motives and sanity for performing acts of sacrificial compassion.  If we skip the step of imitating Christ in His love for mankind, not only won’t we win converts, we may also be indicating that we aren’t really working in His Name at all.

Example Two: Leaving, not owning the opposition

Speaking of which, Christ also demonstrates his pastoral care at the very beginning of today’s lesson. 

You may remember that today’s lesson begins with something that seems to be a throwaway line; a transitional clause that lets the reader know that the narrative is moving on to another scene.  St. Matthew writes; “At that time, as Jesus passed on from there,…” and then segues into this lesson about how Christ called him, the author, to be His disciple.  But what did He leave and why?  What did He “pass on” from in the previous scene?

Let me share that with you; just prior to this, Jesus had publicly corrected some scribes - leaders in the Jewish community - by healing a man of his paralysis after they doubted His ability to forgive sins.  Do you see how they out themselves as fools?  But Christ doesn’t want them to remain in ignorance.  He desires that they, too, be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth …  but He also knew that they were not ready to accept the truth, so He left before they could double down on their sin and thus become even less likely to change their way of thinking and eventually answer His call to discipleship.

As St. John Christostom puts it;

For when He had performed the miracle, He did not remain, lest, being in sight, He should kindle their jealousy the more; but He indulges them by retiring, and soothing their passion. This then let us also do, not encountering them that are plotting against us; let us rather soothe their wound, giving way and relaxing their vehemence.

Jesus could have owned those scribes!  

This is what our polarized and self-indulgent culture seems to require of us: to immediately jump on any perceived weakness to show the superiority of our way.  We even manufacture offenses so that we have an opportunity to score points and play to the crowd.  But that’s not what Jesus did; there was a real offense and a real weakness – but He didn’t want or need to impress anyone.  Again, his desire is that of His Father; that all be saved and come to a knowledge of the Truth.  And so He forbeared and gave them an opportunity to cool off and repent while He moved off to spend time with someone who was ready to hear Him.

These are the kinds of lessons that are obvious to those who have “eyes to see and ears to hear,” but for the rest of us, it takes time.  As we have discussed previously, we still see the Gospel “through a glass darkly” and only see reality as “trees walking.”  But we want to learn, and so we ask those who have made this journey successfully before us, men like the Holy Apostle and Evanglist Matthew, whose memory we celebrate today and St. John Chrysostom who shares the deeper Truths that St. Matthew shared – we ask them to guide and pray for us as go deeper into The Way.

Let’s see what more we can learn about Christ’s approach to evangelism and pastoral care in today’s lesson. 

It is worth remembering that Matthew was a tax collector.  When Jesus gave him the invitation to “follow me”, he responded with hospitality.  He opened his house to the Lord, his disciples, fellow tax collectors, and unspecified sinners.  Just to make sure everyone had a good time, this was all done within view of some local Pharisees.  The Pharisees spent their whole lives dedicated to righteousness (as should all of us).  I am perfectly willing to believe that they were sincere in their devotion to the Law.  In fact, it was probably their devotion to the Law that led to their revulsion at seeing an alleged rabbi (Jesus) eating with sinners.  They shared their righteous indignation with the Lord’s disciples and He overheard them.  We can learn a lot about how to pastoral ministry by looking at Christ’s response.

First, He said (e.g. St. Mark 2:17);

Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick do.
I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance. 

This is the most obvious point: God was explaining what His mission to these sinners (and the world) was:  He had come to bring them to repentance.  This would hardly satisfy any ultra-Orthodox takfirists – they always want their pound of flesh!  After all, they say, repentance requires tears, and the best way to bring someone to tears is not to eat with them and provide them a living example of the better way; no, surely it is more effective to beat them over the head with the Sin-Stick, right?! 

Evidently not, at least according to the all-knowing and all-loving God-man Jesus Christ. After acknowledging the sinfulness of His dinner companions and their need for repentance, He corrected the Pharisees’ dubious pedagogical and evangelical instincts with this (e.g. St. Matthew himself in 9:13);

Go and learn what it means, ‘I will have mercy, and not sacrifice’:
for I am not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.

Christ is quoting Hosea when He says; “I will have mercy, and not sacrifice”.  The full passage (which was implied) continues with (Hosea 6:6);

“… and [I desire] the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings.” 

This is huge.  The Pharisees knew the full quote and its context; they would have seen that Christ was telling them that they were guilty of the very same sorts of things that went against God throughout the Old Testament.  He was telling them that they were more concerned with fulfilling the letter of the law (i.e. doing the “burnt offerings” well) than they were with knowing God or bringing others to Him.  At that meal, He was doing something that they should have been doing themselves.

How Christ Discipled His Sinners cum Apostles

More importantly, along with His entire response, Christ used this quote to describe His method for bringing the “knowledge of God” to sinners; He would use mercy to lead them to repentance, which would in turn allow them to grow in the knowledge of God.  

St. John Chrysostom brings this point out at the end of his homily on this passage;

What Christ is saying through his words and deads is this, “The disciples have not yet become strong; they still need a lot of condescension. They have not been renewed by the Spirit yet.  You really shouldn’t put a lot of injunctions on people who are still weak.” 
And He said all these things in order to set laws and rules for His own disciples,
so that when it was their turn to train disciples, they would deal with them very gently.

 To reiterate St. John Chrysostom’s point, God is showing His disciples how the Gospel is to be taught: gently and with mercy … while protecting the weak from the attacks of the self-righteous.  This is important for us as Christian leaders: we are called to follow Christ!  We are called to take His Gospel to sinners so that they might repent,  come to the knowledge of God, and be saved.  Keep the Sin-Stick ready, but use it the way Christ Himself did; to defend the weak from the attacks of the self-righteous.

There is a temptation to bring sinners to a full awareness of their sin in order to drive them towards repentance, but be careful with this.  

Psalm 129: 3-4 (which we often repeat as a prokimen so that we will master it – or rather so that it might master us); 

If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand?
But there is forgiveness with thee.

And later in that same Psalm, we learn from the Psalmist, in the Spirt, what the purpose of this merciful forgivness is; so that He might bring salvation to Israel (129:8).

Repentance, kenosis, and discernment are fostered over time.  It is an iterated and communal process.  The wounds this world inflicts on God’s children are serious and it takes time for Him to heal them.  This means that you may not be able to see the process through to its conclusion, but it is okay to simply begin the treatment; the Church has trained other physicians that can continue the process, just as you will be called to continue the work others have begun. 

As Christ said “One soweth, and another reapeth.” (St. John 4:37:4)

Conclusion

Saint Matthew’s life is a testimony to the efficacy of this gentle discipleship process.  He was a sinner.  The Lord protected Him and showed Him mercy.  Over time, through His example, His holiness, and His teachings, He brought Matthew through repentance to the true knowledge of God.  As a recipient of this grace, St. Matthew could do nothing else but offer it to others.  

It is true that the Church is a hospital, and that Christ is the Great Physician; and it is also true that St. Matthew found healing in the Church under the Doctor’s care. 

But it is also true that He did not stay in the hospital bed. After a lifetime spent spreading the Gospel, this “good and faithful servant” earned the martyr’s crown in Ethiopia.

May the Lord transform us into the kind of patient, merciful, and holy pastors who can do the same.

In this episode, Fr. Anthony reframes prayer not as a spiritual transaction but as a lifelong conversation with God that restores our capacity to see, experience, and share His beauty, light, and love. Drawing on themes of theosis, maturation, and Zachary Porcu’s vision of becoming human, he explores how prayer transforms our distorted desires, heals our blindness, and trains us to do the work God made us to do. The saints reveal that repentance and prayer are not a response to crises but a way of life — a steady ascent into clarity, freedom, and real communion with God and creation.

St. Luke 8: 41-56

Drawing on St. Nikolai Velimirović’s image of divine grace as electricity, this homily on the raising of Jairus’ daughter (Luke 8:41–56) invites us to become  living conduits through whom God’s uncreated energy continually flows. Christ’s tender command, “Talitha koum,” reveals the greater reality that in Him even death is but sleep, for the fire of His love transforms all who see with eyes full of light into partakers of His eternal life.

Homily on Jairus’ Daughter 
St. Luke 8:41–56

Glory to Jesus Christ! It is a blessing to be with you this morning. I have really appreciated your hospitality throughout this weekend.

In his homily on this beautiful event in the history of our salvation, St Nikolai Velimirović compares our Lord to electricity—or perhaps to magnetism, and to light. What he is describing is what we in the West call grace. The idea is that the Lord’s uncreated energy – His spiritual electricity - is continually available; and those who allow themselves to be connected to Him become receptacles and conduits of that spiritual electricity—of that grace, of that beautiful light. 

We see this especially at Pascha, when the priest sings “Come receive the light,” and one candle lights another, and the flame spreads from person to person.

Magnetism is a similar image: not only does it attract, but it also bestows magnetism in a lesser degree to some of the objects it touches. This a lovely and apt metaphor—though, as St Nikolai warns, don’t take it too far or you’ll end up spouting heresy– for instance, a screwdriver that has received magnetism from a magnetic source retains the magnetism even after the source is removed.  As we discussed yesterday, anything that is removed from the Source of Divine Energy loses its spiritual life.  Going back to the metaphor of electricity, our hope is not to become a sort of battery that receives grace and then stores it separate from its source; rather, our hope is to increasingly become pure conduits of divine energy through whom it continually flows. 

Switching metaphors again, Jesus Christ describes this as living water in the Gospel according to St. John when He says;

If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink.  He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.
(St. John 7:37; also St. John 4:14)

The grace that we share as Christians is flowing to and through us from its source, and that source is God.

There is another lesson here. 

St. Nikolai points out that there were many people in the crowd that day, but only one was healed. Let me develop a point from yesterday’s talk.  You may remember my sharing that the scripture about the newly healed blind man seeing “trees walking” as a metaphor for our need to work on seeing the world as it really is. 

A related scriptural metaphor from Christ Himself has to do with the “eye of darkness;”   

“The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!” (St. Matthew 6:22-23).

In part, these are eyes that fail to see the Lord even when He is present among us. Imagine that He turned to you and healed you after you had endured fourteen years of suffering. How would you respond? Lord willing, you would respond with thanksgiving and joy; a thanksgiving and joy that never fades. But the eye of darkness might quickly slip from thankfulness and joy back into bitterness and think or say: “Where have you been these fourteen years?”

Do you see the trap? Do you see how such a response, such an attitude, misses the whole point of God’s work among us — it’s kind of like saying to Christ the God-man when He appears in His glory to bring us into His Kingdom; “O Lord, I thought you’d be taller.”

The eye of darkness is a terrible thing. For those who see truly, the world is permeated with the grace of God.  Let us strive increasingly to the world with these eyes of light.

Another lesson the Fathers draw from this story is that the healing itself wasn’t even the main point. Do you remember the plot line we are following in the Gospel lesson? A ruler of the synagogue—a leader of the Jews—comes to Christ and begs: “My daughter lies dying. Please come to our house.” As the Lord goes with him, the crowd presses in around Him. And even along the way, miracles happen.

This is a lesson we need to learn: with the Lord, there is no such thing as “along the way.” His grace is always active. Every moment with Him is transformed in Him and by Him.  For the Christian, every moment of grace is an experience of eternal glory… and that moments lead in time to the next which is similarly transformed and transformative.

For the Christian, after such an encounter, there is no darkness left to return to, only life in Christ so full that we can say with St Paul, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” (Galatians 2:20)  When we are connected to Him in this way, His grace—like living water, or electricity, or magnetism, or light—flows through us and straightening our connections with the world around us.

This is what St Seraphim of Sarov meant when he said, “Acquire the Holy Spirit, and thousands around you will be saved.”  

And this is the same things that we celebrate in the life of St. Nektarios, whose memory we celebrate today, when we proclaim this verse at Orthros: “Since thou drunkest the nectar of life eternal, thou gushest, O Nektarios, streams of healings.

Again, there is no such thing as being merely “on the way”; rather, all of life is “along the Way”—in Christ, growing in Him forever.  Every moment is an opportunity to grow and share in this, the great Mystery of the Sacrament of our salvation.

Now, about this man—Jairus. Jairus had great power in his community and a relationship with God through the Law. Yet here he found himself powerless in the face of death. Everyone who tries to find salvation through secular power or the Law alone eventually meets that same limit.

At that time, the Jews were deeply divided over what death meant and whether there was truly a resurrection. So this became a teaching moment for the Lord. The other Gospels describe how the mourners had gathered, the flutes were playing lamentations, and the house was filled with grief. A twelve-year-old girl—the only child of a leader in the community—had died. And Jairus, for all his authority, was utterly powerless.

To make the moment even more striking, Jesus said something that caused the people to laugh Him to scorn: “She is not dead, but sleeping.”  He said this precisely so that they would affirm—beyond any doubt—that she was truly dead: the body cold, the breath gone. And then, having confirmed the reality of death, He revealed the greater reality of life.

He went in, took her by the hand with such tenderness; this pointed out most clearly in the version shared by St. Mark, in which he is recorded as having said in Aramaic, “Talitha koum”—literally, “Little lamb, arise.” (Mark 5:41) “Talitha” is a term of affection, something like “little lambkin.”

And she arose and He told her parents to give her something to eat.

All those who had mocked Him now faced undeniable evidence of a miracle. They could not rationalize it away or pretend they were mistaken. They had declared her dead—and now she was alive. There was only one explanation: the life-giving power of our Lord Jesus Christ. In Him is life, and in Him there can be no death. (John 1:4; John 11:25)

Now, here is a more difficult lesson.  Some steak for us to chew on. 

Jesus did not spend His earthly ministry going to every grieving parent to restore every child. I’m sure that’s hard for you to hear—it’s hard for me, too. But He did not come simply to prolong life in this world; He came to transfigure it. What good would it be to restore someone to this mortal life, only for them to die again after a few years? Instead, He performed this miracle so that we would know that when He says, “I go to prepare a [better] place for you,” that He has the power to fulfill that promise. (John 14:2-3)

There will be times—there have already been times—when we are the ones saying, “She is dead.” But the Church uses a different language: “fallen asleep” and “in blessed repose.” These are not naive phrases. They are reminders that for the Christian, death is but a rest before the age to come. (1 Thessalonians 4:13–14)

And honestly, we long for that age, don’t we? Life in this world can be exhausting —wars, suffering, the loss of children, — all the griefs that weigh us down. But as we sing in our funeral service; in the age to come, there will be “no sighing, no sorrow, no sickness, but life everlasting”  This is the time, quoting both the funeral and Revelation, “God will wipe away every tear.”

If I may change metaphors one last time: our God, who was earlier described as electricity, is also called a consuming fire. (Deuteronomy 4:24; Hebrews 12:29) Those of us raised in the South have heard preachers use that image as a warning. But for the Christian—for the ones who live in Christ so completely that it is no longer they who live but Christ who lives in them (Galatians 2:20)—that fire is not torment but glory. It is the radiant warmth of divine love.

For those purified by grace, the fire of God becomes the very source of joy and life. So when you find yourself saying, “Our beloved, our little lamb, is dead,” remember this: our Lord, who loves our beloved even more than we do, holds her hand and says, just as He did in today’s Gospel, “My dearest one, arise.”

That is the future that awaits all who have given their lives to Him. May we be strengthened by this as we grow in Him.

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

Today Fr. Anthony covers Chapter Nine, "Cosmic Revolution" of Zachery Porcu's "Journey to Reality" on the problem of suffering and evil.

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AI Title and Summary:

Keeping It Real About the Problem of Pain: Free Will, Moral Law, and the Ministry of Presence

Beginning from a memorial service and C.S. Lewis’ Problem of Pain, this talk wrestles honestly with Ivan Karamazov’s challenge, the suffering of children, and what our visceral reaction to evil reveals about the moral law—the “Tao” or Logos—written into our very being, which cannot be reduced to mere biology or sentiment. From there it explores free will as the costly condition of genuine love, the way Christ transforms suffering into a kind of sacrament, and how practices like fasting and the simple “ministry of presence” allow us to stand with others in their pain as living icons of the God who is with us in every cross and every death.