Witches in the Basement

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When I was a child, I enjoyed playing in the basement. There were nooks and crannies to hide in, and decades of accumulated stuff to explore. It was a little spooky down there, and I was convinced that witches lived down there. But as long as the lights were on, I was unafraid. When I had to go back upstairs, I had a problem. The switch for the lights was at the bottom of the stairs, so I had to turn off the lights before I was safely upstairs. When I flipped that switch and the light went off, I was sure that the witches would come grab me if I didn't get up the stairs in about five seconds. Every time I came up from the basement, I turned off the lights and sprinted up the stairs as fast as I could, just to be safe from the witches. I must have been fast enough, because I’m still alive today!

Like the witches in the basement, sins and temptations can’t grab me if the light of Christ is shining in the basement of my soul. When we confess our sins openly to Christ in the presence of a witness (the priest) the light comes on, and our sins can’t get ahold of us. Our problem comes when we hide our sins out of shame or pride. This is why David prayed, “Cleanse me from my hidden faults.” (Psalm 19/18) When we look honestly at ourselves and confess our shortcomings, we begin to get freedom from the sins and temptations we try to hide from others.  As St John Cassian wrote, “The devil, subtle as he is, cannot ruin or destroy [someone] unless he has enticed him either through pride or through shame to conceal his thoughts.”

Confession is not meant to produce guilty feelings. It is a safe place to be open about the secrets that bother us and cause sinful behavior. Honest confession cleanses us from hidden faults. 

Folly of the Cross

"For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God."

One day, a monk named Anthony was sitting in his cave, weaving his baskets, pondering the state of the world. He was thinking about suffering, injustice, and poverty. He started to get bothered and a little bit angry. How can an all-powerful and loving God allow such suffering to stain His beautiful universe? In his righteous irritation, he prayed, "Lord why do some people die as babies, yet others live long lives. Why do some men starve on the street while others eat and drink their fill in palaces? Why does a good man work hard all his life and die penniless while a wicked man gets rich off the labor of his slaves?"

Anthony had a picture in his mind of how things in the world should be. He thought that good and righteous men should be rewarded with health, long life, and prosperity. Evil men, he thought, should be punished. They should not have the comfortable life they seem to have. The universe did not function according to Anthony’s picture of how things should be, and this disturbed him. He wanted to be chairman of the universe-running committee.

How often are we in the same situation? Sometimes watching the news is upsetting. We think, “How can he say that? Or “Congress did WHAT?” Other times, our own lives just are not going the way we think they should be. Maybe the driver in front of me is going a little too slow, or my kids just aren't obeying me as quickly as I think they should. We have a picture of how things ought to be, and the world just isn’t that way. So we despair, or get angry. Just like Anthony, we want to sit on the universe-running committee too!

When this happened to Anthony, he heard a voice answer him. "Anthony, keep your focus on yourself. All things are according to God's plan, and it will not help you to know the answers to your questions."

The Lord was telling him "The world is in my care. It runs according to my providence, not your will. It's not your job to run the universe, it's mine. Your job is to find peace within by surrendering to my will."

The voice did not answer Anthony's concerns directly. Anthony did not find out why suffering and injustice exists. There were no clichés or pat answers explaining suffering. But the voice suggested a solution for Anthony’s anger and despair: surrender to God’s will.

It suggested that Anthony should change where his attention was focused. In effect, the voice said "You will never know the answers to your questions, and even if you did, it would not help you. Instead of agonizing over the problems you see in the world, be vigilant over your own heart and mind to make sure that you do not become one of those wicked men you're complaining about. 'The good man out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil man out of his evil treasure produces evil; for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.' (Luke 7.45) If you continue to focus on the evil of other men, you will fill your heart with anger, resentment, and despair. You risk becoming just like them."

St. Anthony would go on to find that peace within, and become one of the earliest and greatest monastic saints. He led his life in surrender to God’s will, and acquired holiness that has inspired generations of Christians.

When we give up our own idea of how things should be run, we resign from the universe-running committee in our mind. We begin to trust in God’s providence that runs the universe and guides our lives. We surrender to the will of God, and find relief from our desire to be in control of things.

When we surrender to the will of God, we fulfill the command of Christ, who said "If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." Letting go of our own idea of how things should be and trusting the Lord is bearing our cross daily. The cross is the power of our salvation.

Our egos want us to sit on that universe-running committee. To surrender to God’s will seems like folly. As we heard St. Paul say this morning, "For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God." But life trusting in the Lord's providence is better than a life of anxiety and anger at the state of the world.

If we pray the Lord's Prayer in the morning, and we "Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven." We can remember that today is the Lord's day, not ours to do with as we thing best. We can carry that prayer "Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven" with us for the rest of the day, and surrender to God's providence. We give up our seat on the universe-running committee, and let the Lord run the show. We trust Him of whom we heard it said in today’s gospel reading, “he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion on them.” We give up our idea of how things should have been yesterday, or how they should be tomorrow. We focus our attention on the tasks God has given right now, and surrender our anger, despair, and anxiety. By this cross, by surrender to God’s will, we begin to share in that inner peace that was given to St. Anthony found.

(Sermon given on the 8th Sunday after Pentecost)

What does Annunciation mean?

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Today we celebrate one of the church’s great feats: the Annunciation of the Most Holy Mother of God. Every year, spring arrives, and the days get longer. At that time, as the light and life arrive with the spring equinox, we celebrate this feast and remember the light and life that comes into the world: Jesus himself, fully God and fully Man. We commemorate the message of the world’s salvation which the angel Gabriel brought to Mary, the Mother of Jesus Christ. We celebrate with special hymns. We relax our Lenten fast and self-denial. Our penitence is lightened by the joy of the feast. Today we praise her who heard the word of God and kept it.

At least, that’s the idea. We know we are supposed to be celebrating and praising the mother of God. But in the midst of our hectic everyday life, this event, which happened over two thousand years ago, seems so distant sometimes. Does this story mean anything? Does it change my life in any way? Can this story of a heavenly messenger appearing to a young woman be important to us? Or is this simply a nice story to remember every March 25?

Let’s look again at the story of the Annunciation. It is found in the gospel of Luke, chapter 1. God sent the angel Gabriel to bring a message to Mary in Nazareth. Mary was a young woman, a virgin, who was betrothed to Joseph. Her virginity, one of the fathers tells us, shows us the divine nature of the child she bore. Her betrothal to Joseph preserved her from slander, and shows us God’s protection of Mary.

Gabriel appeared to Mary and said, “Rejoice, O favored one, the Lord is with you!” At hearing this, Scripture tells us, Mary was troubled. She wondered who this was who appeared to her. Was it a messenger of God? Or was this a vision of the evil one, who can appear like an angel of light? Was she being tempted by the serpent, as Eve was in the Garden of Eden? In her humility, Mary did not presume that she was worthy to be visited by an angel.

Gabriel answered her doubts, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” Then he proclaimed the good news of the salvation of the world. “…you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High; and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; and of his kingdom there will be no end.” This message of the coming of the Messiah and the salvation of the world had been spoken before by the prophets, by Moses and Isaiah and the others. The prophets spoke in images and metaphors that were not always understood. But this time was the first time that the good news had been spoken so directly. Mary was the first one to hear the gospel proclaimed plainly.

Gabriel made known God’s will to Mary. God’s will is that all the world should be saved by union of the divine nature with the human nature in the person of Jesus Christ. One of the hymns of the feast expresses this beautifully: “Today is revealed the mystery that is from all eternity. The Son of God becomes the Son of Man that, sharing in what is worse, He may make me share in what is better.” By sharing in the human nature, God makes us able to share in the divine nature. We can become like God, as he became like us. He took on our hunger and thirst, weariness and even death. So we can take on his uprightness, courage, holiness, and immortality. Most importantly, we can grow in his love toward Him and our neighbor.

Again Mary wondered, saying “How shall this be, since I have no husband.” She said this not because of doubt in the Angel’s message, but out of her humility. She did not presume to be worthy of so great a miracle. The divine creator of all things dwells in the womb of a virgin. This is beyond our comprehension, and was beyond Mary’s comprehension.

The angel continues, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God.”

Mary answered “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” Whatever her human reservations, doubts, or fears, she submitted her will entirely to God’s will. She heard the word of God and kept it. Because she said “yes” to God’s word, she bore Christ within her, and brought salvation to the world.

This story tells us about Mary’s holiness. Her sanctity comes from both God’s grace and her cooperation. We praise her willingness which helped bring Christ into the world for our salvation. It is fitting to praise the Mother of God for her holiness, and for the love that she continues to show to those who ask her help.

And yet Jesus himself gives us guidance in how to praise her. Later in Jesus’s ministry (Luke 11.27-28), as he preached to a crowd of disciples, one of them cried out “Blessed is she who gave you birth, and she who raised you.” Jesus did not deny these words of praise of his mother, but he did correct the intention a little bit. He said, “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!”

In our celebration of this feast, we praise the Mother of God, as did this disciple of Jesus. But we also take heed to Jesus’s words. All those who hear the word of God and keep it imitate Mary, and are blessed. By hearing the word and following, we too are blessed.

This feast is not merely the celebration of an event that happened long ago. We follow Mary’s example by hearing the word of God and keeping it. We listen for the word of God in our lives, are willing to do what He asks. None of us are asked to do what Mary was asked to do. But when we lay aside our will and surrender to Him, we begin to do what He asks of us. We become like God as he became like us. We begin to live, not so that we can fulfill our every desire, but so that we can give love to those around us. We show by our words and our actions, the love of Christ himself.

By saying “yes” to God’s will, Mary bore Christ within her womb. We also, by saying “yes” to God’s will instead of our petty desires, bear Christ in our hearts. As Mary brought Christ into the world by giving him birth, we bring Christ into the world through our love.

How can we properly celebrate this feast? We take a moment at the beginning of each day to listen for God’s word. We ask “What does Christ ask of me today? How can I bear Christ’s love within myself?” If we are willing to set aside our own desires we imitate Mary. Like her we say, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”


(This was given as a homily at Holy Trinity Russian Orthodox Church in Yonkers, New York on March 25, 2012)

God's agenda

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There were once seven young men who embarked on a spiritual quest for enlightenment. They had heard of a desert far away that was full of gurus, miracle-workers, and holy men. They dropped out of society and left their home with nothing more than hope, curiosity, and a few provisions. They traveled to a faraway country. The first holy man they visited lived in a cave on the side of a cliff, a five mile walk into the desert from town. He ate only raw food, was a vegan, and was said to have powers to heal. He was clairvoyant and could see into the future. 

This sounds like California in the 1970’s but actually it was Egypt in the 390’s. The holy father’s name was John of Lycopolis, a saint of the church, and his seven visitors were monks from Palestine. John greeted them joyfully through the hole in the wall of his cave, and the monks asked him to say a prayer. John was ninety years old and a renowned and experienced ascetic. Yet he was a layman and he asked if any of the brothers was a clergyman who could lead them in prayer. One of them was a deacon, but a little shy about it. He had not even told his six companions that he was ordained. Perhaps he was thinking, “This is a holy man full of the grace of the Holy Spirit. I’m just a deacon, what do I have to offer?” He kept silent and stayed back.

The old man looked straight at him, and with the gift of clairvoyance said, “You are a deacon!”

“Oh no, father, you are mistaken!” the young monk replied, a little timidly. John reached out and took the deacon’s hand and kissed it, out of respect for his office.

Yet he gently challenged the young man, “Do not spurn the grace of God, my child, and do not lie by denying the gift of Christ.” The ordained brother accepted the rebuke, and began the visit with prayer. The monks stayed there three days and John gave them good practical advice on living the Christian life.

The deacon was intimidated in the presence of a famous ascetic. He thought the grace that had been bestowed on him at ordination didn’t compare to the grace of the saint. In his fear, he decided to remain silent and out of sight. Perhaps he was newly ordained. A newly ordained deacon is often nervous that someone will criticize the way he swings the censor, or laugh at his mistakes in the altar, or find today’s sermon boring and irrelevant.

All of us, ordained or not, do exactly the same thing as that timid deacon. We sometimes hide our God-given talents and gifts, because we think they don’t measure up. We are afraid that someone will laugh at us, or look down at us. We think “My gifts and talents seem so puny next to his.” Full of fear, we procrastinate on tasks that will bring light to those around us. In the language of the parables, we hide our light under a bushel, or bury our talent in the ground.

When I compare my gifts to someone else’s I make the same mistake as the deacon in the story. I think my gifts and talents are my possessions, rather than God’s gifts. I compare the gifts I think are mine with that guy’s gifts and I feel like I just don’t measure up. Fearfully, I keep part of myself silent and out of view. When we do this, we are denying God’s grace; we say “no” to God’s agenda for us.

But how do we say “yes” to God’s agenda for us? Remember the story of Andrew the Apostle in the gospel of John. John the Baptist was standing in his camelskin suit by the Jordon with two of his disciples, Andrew and John. It was late afternoon on the day after Jesus’s baptism.

John saw Jesus and said to his two disciples, “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!”

The two disciples heard this and went to Jesus. Maybe they hoped that Jesus would take away their sin. Maybe they saw something special in Jesus’s countenance. Maybe they just couldn’t take one more meal of locusts and wild honey.

Jesus saw them and said, “What are you looking for?”

“Teacher, where are you staying?” they replied. “Come and see.” Jesus told them. So they followed him and stayed where he was staying. Andrew then found his brother, Simon Peter, and told him, “We have found the Messiah!” By being the first one to proclaim that Jesus is the Messiah, Andrew said yes to God’s agenda for him. Unlike the timid deacon, he did not spurn God’s grace and he did not lie by denying the gift of Christ, but embraced the mission given to him by God.

Each of us has talents and gifts given to us by God. Each of us has a unique place in God’s universe. We may not know God’s plan for our whole life. We do not know what we will be doing after graduation, or in a year, or in ten years. We may not know if we are called into church work or not. But Christ calls you and me to be faithful to the mission he gives us today. As baptized Christians, we belong to Christ, not to ourselves. Our agenda for the day is set by Christ, not by us.

Perhaps your day will be filled with study, domestic duties, or administrative tasks. Today’s agenda probably does not seem as exciting as Andrew’s was that day by the Jordon. But we follow Andrew’s example when we faithfully attend to today’s tasks even when we don’t want to, even when our gifts seem puny next to those of our peers. When we use our talents and gifts with courage, for the service of our Lord and our neighbor, in whatever task we are presently occupied with, we answer the call of Christ. 

*This was originally given as a homily on the feast of St. Andrew

Guilt-free life

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One of my favorite television shows is Firefly. The writing is clever, the characters are likable, and the fans of the show are madly loyal. Think wild west in space. But... not boring like I made it sound. 


The outlaw Malcolm Reynolds (below right) is the captain of a small spaceship that scraps together a living among the frontier planets by thieving, smuggling, and avoiding the "feds." One of the paying passengers is Shepherd Book (above, and below left), who is a Christian clergyman.

In one memorable exchange, the Shepherd is convalescing in the ship's sick bay. He had received special emergency health care by the feds after showing them his identity card. Something from Shepherd's past had given him high-security clearance with the bad guys. Was Shepherd's history was not as idyllic as his clerical occupation suggested?

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Malcolm had expected to be arrested and wondered why they had such cooperation from the feds. He visited Sheperd in the sick bay and asked him, "What kind of ident card gets us that kind of reception and send-off?"

Book responded, "I am a shepherd. Folks like a man of God."

Sensing he was avoiding a direct answer Malcolm said, "No, they don't. Men of God make everyone feel guilty and judged. That's not what I saw. You like to tell me what really happened?"

Shepherd answered mysteriously "I surely would... and maybe someday I will." The show's cancellation ended any further exploration of Book's secret past.

Mal's comment points to a sad fact: the guilt trip is alive and well. Christians use it. all. the. time. Liberal Christians feel guilty for driving anything other than a Prius. Conservative Christians feel guilty for thinking about sex. Orthodox Christians feel guilty for eating meat on Friday. Catholic Christians just feel guilty.

Guilt is used by Christians to motivate good thoughts and behavior and discourage bad behavior. The problem is that guilt doesn't work too well as a motivator. It tends to make us feel guilty for sin and not help us stop sinning. Instead of only suffering the ill effects of our sin, we suffer the sin and the guilt. Adding suffering to suffering drives people away from the church, and away from the medicine for sin: Christ.

The guilt trip arises from the idea that we can stop sinning if we want to and try hard enough. But this is not what Paul says. The human default is slavery to sin. Slavery. We are not strong enough or smart enough to free ourselves from this slavery. Jesus Christ redeems us from this slavery. Redemption is manumission, buying a slave out of slavery. We do not and cannot redeem ourselves. Feeling guilty about it does not help us to be free in Christ.

The guilt trip is a last gasp effort of the ego to have its way. I want to not sin, and darn it, I'm going to do it myself. To guilt trip is to pray “God, we no longer need you to care for us, since we do justice for ourselves.” 


The outlaw Malcolm Reynolds cautions Christians to go easy on the guilt. It doesn't work, and is really pride in disguise. Guilt's antidote is humility. Humility is not a permissive attitude to sin. Rather, humility engenders freedom from sin. 

Wrestling with Demons

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Demons and devils are the personification of evil. To think of demons is to imagine that misfortunes, temptations, and sufferings are caused, not by accident or by impersonal “forces of nature” but by sentient beings. Belief in demons arose from a time and place where it was assumed that all events and phenomena, good or bad, originated from a person. Demons were part of a worldview in which the universe was inhabited by a rich variety of unseen persons: angels, demons, saints, dragons, monsters, powers and principalities, thrones and dominions.

We no longer always assume that events and phenomena have their origin in persons; we believe in impersonal or abstract forces of nature. The unseen realm has been all but depopulated. Nature is morally neutral. Bad things “just happen.” Misfortune is just unhappy accident. Demons, it seems, have been given the metaphysical pink slip; we no longer need their services to explain evil. Humans, and perhaps God, are all that is left of the sentient beings in the universe.

This difference in worldview makes it difficult to understand the writings of Scripture and the early church. However strange those writings seem to us today, it is worth making the intellectual leap into their worldview. Early Christians spoke about demons in order to understand the mysterious source of evil. Belief in demons helped them explain a particular part of life that still puzzles us today. “Why do I do things I don’t want to do?”

The first Christians knew that the biggest evils start out small. Evil cuts through the heart of every man and woman; temptation is just around the corner. Evil does not only exist “out there” in genocidal maniacs, illegal immigrants, or politicians. Imagining demons as the source of evil can help us grasp and name evil, from the most egregious to the most subtle. Demon-talk shows us that the most visible and heinous evils are only magnifications of the smallest secret evils.

The same demon causes both the smallest prideful thought and genocide. He whispers in our ear, offering judgmental thoughts about our neighbor next to us. “That guy is really stupid,” he suggests. We enjoy thinking that we are better than our neighbor, and we can get in the habit of thinking like this. What starts as the demon’s provocation can become a habit. We begin to think that not only is that guy stupid, but other people too, whole groups of people, are stupid. This can progress until we think it’s a good idea to kill all the Jews, capitalists, or other scapegoated minority. Perhaps this is an oversimplification, but it seems that Jesus himself held this opinion. (Read, for example, the gospel of Matthew, chapter 5.)

Their way of imagining evil in the world has diagnostic and therapeutic credibility even if we are skeptical of its etiological usefulness. Demon-talk is the early Church’s ethical technology. Even if we are not solidly convinced on the demons existence, we can employ this technology. When I hear the demon whisper “That guy is really stupid” I can choose to indulge the thought and take fleeting pleasure in feeling superior to my neighbor. When I indulge this thought, it interferes with my own happiness. Alternatively, I can turn away from the thought and pray. Although I seem to be unable to stop the demon’s suggestions from entering in my thoughts, the Lord, who is victorious over the powers of evil, never fails to help me. The prideful thought against my neighbor begins to dissipate, and is replaced by love.

Thinking of demons and devils seems at first glance to be an outdated superstition. However, on  closer examination, this personification of evil may show us the way to overcoming stubborn thoughts and desires that work against our own best interests.

Religion Poisons Everything

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In today's modern world, what's the use of religion? It's simply old-fashioned superstition. Stories from the Bible are fairy tales. We don't need rituals like baptism and communion. Worse yet, fanatics from one religion kill extremists from another. Church leaders abuse children and steal money. Religion makes people stupid and evil. Jesus was a nice guy, but God's just not for me.

When you hear talk like that, it seems that belief in God is becoming rare these days. Maybe you have family members or friends who talk like this. Perhaps, although it is hard to admit it, you have heard doubts like this in your own mind.

Many Christians, even leaders and clergy, doubt but continue to come to church out of tradition, guilt, or fear. At times, we wish we could believe in Jesus Christ but don't. Church is boring; we think, “When will this service end so I can go home and watch my the game?" When we pray, we fear that no one out there is listening. Our prayer life is reduced to a quick “Our Father,” before bed just to cover our bases in case we die in our sleep. We think, "God, why did you take away my faith? Why don't I feel good when I pray anymore?” At times of doubt, religious practice stops giving us the comfort and assurance that we need.

But we want our piety to give us some happiness, comfort, or security. We enjoy beautiful worship and music. We meet new and interesting people at coffee hour. Being a Christian makes me feel like a respectable member of society, and reassures me that when I die I’ll go to heaven.

The comfort and assurance that comes from church, prayer, and Christian fellowship is great help in getting through our daily struggles. We all need the social support that we find in Christian fellowship. Yet when my religious practice stops giving me the comfort I want, my mixed motives are revealed. Maybe I've been using my religion selfishly. Maybe I use my piety to avoid or smooth over the rough spots in my life. When I’m caught off guard by fear of death, I start thinking about heaven as quick as I can, so that I don’t have to admit my mortality.

Times of doubt show us, in short, our childish and superficial approach to God. The use of religion to control our level of comfort is not real faith in Christ.

It seems that God sometimes allows a Christian’s piety to be removed for a season. This is not so that the Christian leaves the church and gives up on God. Rather, these times of doubt can be opportunities for spiritual growth. If we are honest and humble, sharing our thoughts with someone else, a pastor or a trusted friend, a period of doubt can be the time when false piety and magical thinking are removed. We can move from selfish piety to trust in Christ.

With honesty and humility, we can ask the Lord for help, even when he feels far away; we learn to rely more fully on Him. After all, I do not create God by my own piety. Reliance on our own piety gives way to real trust. We begin to trust that Jesus is Lord of the universe, and loves all humankind. Times of doubt are an opportunity to turn away from the false self and turn towards the true self, Jesus Christ.

When we learn, little by little, to trust in Jesus Christ rather than our own unaided will, we let ourselves be guided by Him. We let him take care of all those problems we see around us. It’s a relief not to be in the driver’s seat. Surely the creator and savior of all will be a better manager of my life than I will be. Guided by God’s will, we find joy and comfort that we couldn’t find when we were trying to control our lives.