Discovering Our Gifts and the Virtue of Filotimo

Preached by Sub Dn. Timothy Grace on the Sunday commemorating St. Paisios of Mount Athos, this sermon draws on St. Paul's letter to the Romans to explore both the unique gifts God gives each of us and the calling shared by all Christians. Through the lives of the saints, the Greek virtue of filotimo — a loving eagerness to do good — and the words of C.S. Lewis, Timothy shows how we grow in holiness by forgetting ourselves and losing our lives in Christ.

Transcript

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. Since Pentecost, we have been meditating on what it means to be part of the Church, in communion with the holy people who have gone before us and with us here — on the path to holiness, on the path to wholeness. In today's epistle reading, two things are made clear: the unique aspects of our lives that lead us to holiness — that is, the individual gifts that God has given to each one of us — but also the path expected of all of us as Christians, what we all hold in common. So this morning we will make clear what is expected of us individually in the Church, but also collectively. And since this is the Sunday on which we commemorate a saint very special to Australia, St. Paisios of Mount Athos, I would like to include a key aspect of his own unique person to guide us as well.

At the beginning of the passage from the epistle, St. Paul makes clear in his letter to the Romans what it is that makes us different — that is, our different gifts. He speaks of having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, and he lists them. This is not an exhaustive list, and there are other parts of the New Testament where other lists of gifts are given, but he speaks of things like prophecy, service, teaching, exhortation (that is, giving encouragement), contributing, giving aid, and doing acts of mercy. St. Paul is saying that we are to use the gifts we have — not to ignore them, not to leave them in disuse. We recall the parable of the talents that Christ told, where it was the last servant, who buried his talent in the ground, who was condemned. We are to use them to their fullness in order to bring glory to God. When Christ speaks to his disciples prior to his passion, he says, as recorded in John 15:8, "By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit." Christ expects that we bear much fruit with the gifts we have been given.

Among the saints there is a great variety of giftings, and they made the most of the grace that was given to them — and it was a different grace. Some were political leaders, like St. Justinian or St. Irene the Empress. Some, like St. Sava, were teachers. Some were great theologians, like St. Gregory or St. John the Evangelist. Some were great ascetics, like St. Anthony or St. Mary of Egypt. Some were great composers and poets, like St. Kassiani and St. Ephraim the Syrian. Others were unmercenary healers, like Sts. Cosmas and Damian. Others, like St. Maria of Paris and St. Olga of Alaska, gave themselves for the poor. And some were even parents, like St. Emmelia. They all used their giftings in various ways — not for selfish means or to advance themselves, but in service to others, and especially in service to the Church. We are instructed to do the same.

But you might be thinking, "So, Deacon, what can I do? I don't have giftings. None of the things in this list from Scripture applies to me. I'm not a great saint doing some of the great feats of the saints you have listed here." And you might think that you're defined just by that great identity marker of the modern age — a worker. "All I do is go to work. I have to pay my bills. I don't have time for anything else." Well, I think there is a little story that can perhaps help us feel better if our giftings lie just in that area. It is a story from the life of St. Anthony.

As the story goes, one day he was troubled by a tempting thought. By this stage he had spent many years in the desert — after all, he is the father of monasticism — and he had reached a very holy stage of life. And he was troubled by this thought, which told him that no one surpassed him in holiness. As soon as he contemplated this thought, he felt God tell him that he needed to go to the city of Alexandria to find a certain shoemaker who was going to teach him a lesson. So up he goes, leaves the desert, goes to the bustling city of Alexandria, finds this shoemaker, and says, "I have been sent by God to you, for you to teach me something." The shoemaker is rather stunned that this desert monk has come to visit him, and he says, "Look, I don't do anything special. All I do is make my shoes here. But there is one thing that I do. I look at every person as they walk past my store, and I say, that person will be saved, and I alone will be condemned." That person will be saved, and I alone will be condemned.

This attitude of humility, placing himself beneath other people, is what struck St. Anthony. And he said these words: "You, my brother, like a good merchant, have gained the priceless pearl without toil. I, however, have grown old in the desert, sweated and toiled, but have not reached your level of humility." So we can use any giftings we have been given to find humility and to find a holy way. The first thing is to discern what our giftings could be — something that might take time and prayer — and then to ask how we can use them in the service of the body of believers first, but then more broadly as well.

But not just to use them — to use them in a certain way. In the Scripture, St. Paul goes to some detail to say how one is to do, for example, an act of mercy: that is, with cheerfulness. This shows us that there is an incorrect and a correct way to do these things, to use them in the best way possible. There is a way of going about these giftings that could actually be harmful or destructive — if they are about the ego or the self, or if they are done coldly or half-heartedly. There is a way to go about them that neither harms nor benefits. There is a way to go about them that brings some benefit. And then, finally, there is a way to fulfil these giftings completely, to fully satisfy what is required.

I remember volunteering for a while at a soup kitchen in the city — this was in the days before becoming Orthodox — and it was interesting to see the differing attitudes of the volunteers. Some of the staff would actually laugh at the homeless people who came in when they were under the influence of drugs or alcohol. Others would set about the tasks of cooking and serving those who came in with just a neutral attitude. But there were others who always had a smile and a kind word, and who would go beyond what was expected of them, sitting down with the homeless and getting to know them by name. There is a best way to go about each of our giftings. In this instance we can see how some people can bring harm even when doing a good task, some fulfil the basics, and others truly embody what it means to show charity. And so it is with any gift.

In the gospel reading today, we see in the way that Christ heals the paralytic that he completes to the full what one would hope for from meeting a healer. He is encouraging in the words he gives. He actually performs the healing. And then, as God, he forgives the man's sin. He completes fully what it means to be a healer, and he sets the example for us to keep striving in all that we do, to complete the giftings we have been given in the best way possible. A key place where we can develop these gifts is the Church, and I would encourage everyone here to check out the many ministries and opportunities we have on offer. We can also put these areas of our gifting into practice in the circumstances of our lives — in our families, our marriages, our workplaces, and our schools.

So let us now look at what is expected of all of us, regardless of our gifts. This is the second part of the passage from the epistle that St. Paul gives today. He gives these general instructions to everyone — first to his audience in Rome, and then to those who will read this letter, like us. He says things like: let love be genuine; hold fast to what is good; love one another with brotherly affection; outdo one another in showing honour; never flag in zeal; be aglow with the Spirit; be constant in prayer; contribute to the needs of the saints; practise hospitality; and love one's enemies. These are things we are all called to. We are all therefore called to be well-rounded. Even though we may have certain giftings, we all still need to be prayerful, we all still need to be charitable, we all still need to be hospitable, and we all still need to be patient under trial.

This was actually something that drew me to the Orthodox Church in the first place — the fact that we don't elevate one thing as being more important than another. Prayer, care for the poor, Scripture, service, the ascetic life, worship — it is all important. It all matters. The main aspect that I think characterises this list, and especially how it sounds as we read it, is this sense of being aflame with the love of God and love of neighbour. The accumulation of the imperatives that St. Paul gives us conveys a real sense of passionate enthusiasm. St. Paul is embodying in his very writing the qualities he wants to see manifested — being aglow in the Spirit and never flagging in zeal.

There is a word for this in Greek that St. Paisios the Athonite really loved. So we are going to learn a new Greek word today, and it is the word filotimo. Filotimo. Let's say it together — ready? Filotimo. One more time: filotimo. May St. Paisios forgive us our Greek pronunciation. This is basically the love of honour — loving to do good to other people, an eager goodness. Some words from his hagiography, his spiritual biography, speak about it, and they say this: "Being a monk, he did not feel it was enough to go to church services and perform his ascetic rule and have a peaceful conscience from having fulfilled his monastic duties. He had a good kind of unrest, the kind that yearns for something to fill his soul. His filotimo beckoned him to give himself over to greater struggles, for the sake of which he sacrificed his strength, his time, and his rest. He offered everything to God. He thought of others before he thought of himself, and he sacrificed himself to help them."

The elder was moved when he saw filotimo in others, and he frequently spoke of such instances as examples to be emulated. A woman, he related, once said, "Christ is grieved, and I am the one who grieved him. So I do not want to have joy" — but she was filled with joy. She would tell people to pray that she would not have joy, and that she would instead share in Christ's pain. Now, that is what filotimo is. The more she would say this, the more she would have joy and delight. She had gone completely out of herself. "We should do the right thing," he says, "not legalistically or to get something out of it, but out of love for God. Then it is easy for me not just to do the things I'm supposed to do, but also to sacrifice whatever I'm entitled to. We should live and act with filotimo."

For example — and this is what he says to the children present — children should think of how they can make things easier on their parents and make them happy. (I just saw smiles light up all over the parents' faces here.) We should not let someone else tire himself out with his chores while we satisfy ourselves with the false notion that we have finished our own. Let us sacrifice ourselves for others. When he was a layman, it is said of St. Paisios, this characteristic virtue of filotimo showed him to be a benefactor of the poor. When he was a soldier, it showed him to be a hero. And when he was a monk, it showed him to be a saint.

So, to finish up: what we see from this list today is that there are things we are called to specifically, and things we are all called to universally — things expected of us all. We are all part of one body, but we perform various functions. You may be wondering, "How do I develop my specific gifting?" I want to end with a quote from C.S. Lewis, from his text Mere Christianity, that I think really brings out this aspect of filotimo and can help save us from anxiously worrying about this question. That aspect is self-forgetfulness. Sometimes we actually have to focus less on ourselves to find the correct path.

C.S. Lewis says this: "The more we get what we now call ourselves out of the way and let him take us over, the more truly ourselves we become. Until you have given up your self to him you will not have a real self. Sameness is to be found most among the most 'natural' men, not among those who surrender to Christ. How monotonously alike all the great tyrants and conquerors have been; how gloriously different are the saints. There must be a real giving up of the self. You must throw it away blindly, so to speak. Christ will indeed give you a real personality: but you must not go to him for the sake of it. As long as your own personality is what you are bothering about you are not going to him at all. The very first step is to try to forget about the self altogether. Your real, new self will not come as long as you are looking for it. It will come when you are looking for him. Give up your self, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favourite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end: submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find him, and with him everything else thrown in."

So may God help us, in our love for him and our neighbour which is expected of us all, to lose ourselves and thereby find ourselves, to die to ourselves and live in Christ, that we may excel in the gifts he has given us individually, and that we may build up his body, the Church, on this earth. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.