Living the Resurrection Life

On the fifth Sunday after the resurrection, Sub Dn. Timothy Grace explores what it means to live a life transformed by Christ. He delves into the story of the woman at the well, the apostles, and Christ himself, urging us to see Christ in every person and to serve with love and humility. This sermon challenges us to leave behind worldly desires and embrace the mission of the Church with renewed vision and purpose.

Transcript

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

Today, on the fifth Sunday after the resurrection, we focus on what living the resurrection life looks like. Toward the end of the service today, the priest will say, "Let us go forth in peace." And this is the last command in the liturgy. Metropolitan Kalistos Ware says about this that it means surely that the conclusion of the divine liturgy is not an end but a beginning. Those words are not a comforting epilogue; they are a call to serve and bear witness. These words mean that the liturgy is over, but the liturgy after the liturgy is about to begin. This then is the aim of the liturgy, he says, that we should return to the world with the doors of our perceptions cleansed. We should return to the world after the liturgy seeing Christ in every human person, especially in those who suffer.

So we focus on what we're meant to be doing now that we have met Christ at Pascha and also on this small commemoration of Pascha that every Sunday is. I want to take a leaf out of the page of St. Gregory the Great. In his festival orations, he encourages us to place ourselves in the people of each of the gospel stories and ask ourselves where we are situated. So I'd like to do something similar today with the woman at the well, St. Photini, the apostles, and Christ himself.

We start with Photini, who is—it's clear that she was someone who was searching, and she couldn't find what she was looking for. She had five husbands. I mean, have you ever met someone who's had five husbands? Have you ever met a man who's had five wives? It really is this extreme attempt to quench a certain desire, to slake a certain thirst. This motif of unsatisfied desire is furthered by the fact that she is drawing water at an unusual time of the day, at the sixth hour, midday. In meeting Christ, she was able to channel that desire toward God, and she ends up even pouring out her own life for him, as we'll read in the Synaxarion a little bit later.

St. Romanus the Melodist says in one of the hymns for today that she departed in filth and entered into the figure of the Church as blameless. She departed the well and drew out life like a sponge. She stopped bearing water and became a bearer of God. Maybe you are like her today, filling your life, your mind, your thoughts, your heart with things other than God, and they are not satisfying. Like her, you need to leave the water jar behind, and that's what the text tells us—that she leaves the water jar behind and she goes to tell the other people about what Christ had told her. You might need to leave certain things behind as well, things that you have tried to fill your life with—possessions, whatever they might be, money, relationships, food, your image, your career. That desire needs to be turned toward Christ.

C.S. Lewis writes that it would seem that our Lord finds our desires not too strong but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased. We are too pleased with created things, and St. Photini knew that she was trying to fill her soul with these things, and what Christ offered was something infinitely greater.

Maybe the lesson that we need to learn instead is actually the one that the apostles needed to learn. So Christ goes to this woman in Samaria; she's not a Jew. In the epistle, we see some of the apostles replicating what Christ did in going to the Greeks, and it's this pattern of going to people on the margins, and Christ expects us to do the same. But at this point in the gospel story, the apostles still don't quite get it yet. They haven't received the Holy Spirit at Pentecost; they don't really have their head in the game. Their focus is on earthly food. St. Photini may have been focusing on satisfying her desire with husbands, but she didn't know Christ, whereas the disciples do know him. They have been with him for some time now, and they still don't quite understand. He says, "I tell you, lift up your eyes and see how the fields are already white for harvest." He wants them to change their mindset.

Now maybe you too have been with Christ for some time, and it's become a certain routine, going through the motions, and you're going through life with the usual worries. But the life in the resurrection is not mediocrity, and it's not same old, same old. Christ is inviting you to look at your world with new eyes, at the people around you. Think of how you got here to this church today. Maybe someone smiled at you, maybe someone talked to you, maybe someone prayed for you or prayed with you, someone inspired you. Now think of the people in your lives who could do with one of these things as well.

Right now, we've talked about this a few times, and many people have noticed it, but we're seeing this revival of sorts right in the Orthodox Church, and many people are seeking out the ancient historical Church. This is the product of years and decades of actions of Orthodox faithful in many countries. We are here as Orthodox Christians in an Antiochian church on this day when we remember that the Christians were first called so in the city of Antioch, that great city. We are here because others have sowed something, and people have fled their homes, whether it's from Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, Palestine, and this has been replicated all throughout the Orthodox world—Greece, Russia, Romania, and other places. They've fled these homes, they've kept the traditions, they've kept the faith, they have traveled to countries like this one, they have scraped together money to hold liturgies in hired halls, they have slowly built churches, and then people like us come along, and we benefit from all that work and from all that labor. We are standing on their shoulders.

And so now we are seeing people come into the Church in large numbers. We are reaping what we did not sow, and it has pleased the Lord for us to perform this task, and may we continue to do it well. But here's the thing: we will continue to sow in other ways so that future generations can continue this process and reap the things that we are sowing now. So the question is, are you in? Are you even aware that this is going on? Is your head in the game, or are you going through life like the disciples here, just satisfied with thinking about earthly things, oblivious to the people around you?

I'm not talking about going out and overtly having to proselytize every last person that we see. What I'm talking about is following what Christ did. He sits down at a well, and he has a simple conversation, one-on-one, a simple daily interaction. Or maybe you need to be like Christ in this story. We see in him an attitude of complete non-judgment to St. Photini, but rather mercy. You know, there's a really nice line from the Vespers last night that says, "He who rides with the cherubim speaks with an adulterous woman." Right? And it's kind of just a mind-blowing thing that God, who is all holy, can respond in this manner to a sinner. How much more we, who are also sinners, should respond with all compassion to the people around us, right?

You know, when I was younger, we used to have at our birthday parties piñatas. Do people still have piñatas at birthday parties? I hope that there's not like AI versions or like an app or something instead. You know how it goes: an animal, cardboard or something paper, filled with lollies and candies. You string it up, you blindfold a person, you give them a stick, you spin them around, and then they go around aimlessly swinging in the dark trying to hit this. It's great fun for everyone, obviously. Now we know that as soon as a person finds where that piñata is, it's going to be over fairly quickly, right? They are going to belt the living daylights out of these things, and then all the kids are going to rush to all the lollies that fall to the floor.

Now it's the same as the attitude that we adopt as Orthodox to people who don't yet know Christ. We know that they are flailing around in the darkness, swinging, spending their time, wasting their energies, lost. But we know that as soon as they find Christ, as soon as they direct and channel that energy to Christ, that they will find that hope and that love and that joy. This is the kind of positive attitude that we have, and we don't despair over people's many sins. If only they can direct the powers of the soul to Christ, then they will thrive. It's almost like a certain unknowing takes place with regards to people and their sins, and we see this in the way that the saints interact with people who might even be very sinful, right? They don't get offended. We see this in someone like St. Paul in Acts chapter 17 when he goes to Athens.

Now, ancient Greco-Roman culture at the time was not a morally pure one, right? All it takes is to read a text written at the time of the gospels, like the Satyricon by Petronius, to see the decadence, the degree of prodigal living, and the widespread pagan worship. We can imagine the many statues and the deities all around Athens that, as the text tells us, provoked Paul's spirit. But he doesn't tell them off. Instead, he says this: "I perceive you are very religious." I perceive you are very religious. He compliments them. It's a paradox, isn't it, that we take our own holiness so seriously, but we don't condemn other people for not having it.

St. Porphyrios gives us a bit of a key as to how we should interact with people in their sinfulness around us, and he says this from his book "Wounded by Love." He says, "Let's have love, meekness, and peace. In that way, we help our brother when he is possessed by evil. Our example radiates mystically, and not only when the person is present but also when he's not. Let us strive to radiate our goodwill even when we say something about a person whose way of life does not meet with our approval. The person is aware of it, and we repel him, whereas if we are compassionate and forgive him, then we influence him. Just as evil influences him, even if he does not see us. Just as a hermit who was seen by no one benefits the world because the mystical waves of his prayers influence people and transmit the Holy Spirit into the world, so you too should scatter your love without expecting anything in return, with love, patience, and a smile. When we see that the people around us have no love for God, we are distressed, but with our distress, we achieve nothing at all, nor do we achieve anything by trying to persuade them to change their ways. That's not right either. There is a secret, however, and if we understand it, we will be able to help. The secret is our prayer and devotion to God so that his grace may act. We, with our love, with our fervent desire for the love of God, will attract grace so that it washes over those around us and awakens them to divine love. Or rather, God will send his love and will rouse them all. What we are unable to do, his grace will achieve. With our prayers, we will make all worthy of God's love. And you should be aware of something else," he writes. "Souls that have known pain and suffering and that are tormented by their passions win most especially the love and grace of God. It is souls such as these that become saints, and very often we pass judgment on them. When you remember this, you will feel that these people are more worthy than you and than me. We see them as weak, but when they open themselves to God, they become all love. Whereas previously they had acquired different habits, they now give all the power of their soul to Christ and are set on fire by Christ's love. That is how God's miracle works in such souls, which we regard as lost."

Really sums up St. Photini's story, doesn't it? Now, as more and more people come along to our church, we will get people of all different walks of life, experiences, and backgrounds, different ideologies, religions, world systems. They are going to bring their behaviors and their lifestyles into the church, and we will have contact with them. It's vital that we maintain this delicate balance—strict with ourselves and our own personal holiness, lenient with others, and pointing them towards Christ.

So consider today, as we close, the lesson that you need to learn. The lesson of St. Photini: to leave behind the created that you may acquire the uncreated. The main action for you is fasting and prayer because fasting is not a negative thing. Fasting is the blocking off of all the different places that our desire trickles away into so that it can be channeled singly towards God. Or maybe it's the lesson of the apostles: to wake up to the mission of the Church, wake up to the people around you, and take an interest in them. The action for you is going to be courageous love, stepping out of your comfort zone to reach out to another. Or it may be the lesson of Christ: that when you do encounter people, that you're letting mercy triumph over judgment. The main action for you is going to be humility, remembering for what grievous sins Christ has forgiven you, that we may all live the resurrection life, taking out into the world the life-giving grace offered to us lavishly in Christ's body and blood.

May it be so for us. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. Christ is risen.

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