Sermon

Sunday, March 29, 2009

This kind can only come out with prayer and fasting-the windows of the soul

 

What is the role of a disciple?  A disciple is one who believes in Christ, who believes in His Words and His promises.  A disciple is one who actively engages in learning about Christianity, who is actively preparing in this life for his or her entrance into the next life, and who is actively involved in the ministry of the church.  When I speak of the ministries of the church, I am not speaking about belonging to a certain group of the church, like the choir or the Philoptochos or the GOYA or even the Parish Council.  When we speak of the ministries of the church, we are speaking about preaching, teaching, and healing—these are the three specific ministries of the church—to teach about the things of God, to preach, in the sense of trying to bring souls to God, and to heal, which is done through prayer—our own personal prayer for our own healing, and communal prayer which helps to bring healing to those around us, where they in turn help bring healing to us.  The various groups in our church, such as the choir, Philoptochos, GOYA and the Parish Council each have a specific group of people they reach to—The choir are the musicians, the Philoptochos are the women, the GOYA are the teenagers and the Parish Council the elected leaders—you have to fit a certain category to belong to each group.  Each group has specific things it does—the choir sings, the Philoptochos helps, the GOYA learns and has fun, and the Parish Council administers.  But the end goal for all of these groups is ministry—there must be preaching, teaching and healing that occurs in each group. 

 

In the Gospel lesson this morning, the disciples encountered a man whose son was possessed by a spirit. The boy’s father wants the disciples to heal his son.  The disciples are not able to.  Jesus is able to heal the boy.  Later on, the disciples approach Jesus and ask, “Why could we not cast the spirit out?”  Jesus answers them, this kind can only be cast out by prayer and fasting.

Before I continue, let me relate a story told by St. John Chrysostom—Jesus is not only the Son of God, but the S-U-N of justice.  The rays of this spiritual Sun spread out in all directions; the rays of the Sun are God’s grace.  And this Grace spreads equally upon the whole world.  However, not everyone receives the same amount of grace.  All homes are hit by the same sun, in equal amount, yet some homes are warmer and other homes are colder.  It seems that the warmer homes are those homes who windows are large, and are open wide to receive the warmth of the sun.  And the colder homes are those homes whose windows are narrow and whose windows are closed, so that they cannot be warmed by the sun.  Each human soul is like a home—our thoughts and our purposes are like windows—If our thoughts and purposes are focused on Godly things, our souls will be light and warm, they will be full of grace.  If our thoughts and purposes are not focused on Godly things, then our souls become dark and cold, they are full of darkness and sadness.

Back to the story in the Gospel, the Disciples approached Jesus after He had healed the young boy and asked, “why could we not cast the spirit out?”  Jesus answered them, “This kind can only come out through prayer and fasting.”  So, if our souls become warm and light by being focused on the things of God, prayer and fasting are two tools that the church offers us for the growth of our souls, in order to purify our souls, so that the light of Christ can illumine and warm our souls.  I’m not speaking for non-Orthodox Churches and their respective theologies.  I am an Orthodox Christian and can speak only for our theology.  Prayer and fasting are cornerstones to Orthodox theology and practice.  Prayer helps to keep us connected to God.  If we are praying frequently, it is going to be harder to stray too far from God.  One problem, however, with prayer in the Orthodox church, is that for some reason, we’ve made it okay to substitute ritual for prayer.  So someone sits down for a meal as an example, and does their Stavro, their cross, out of habit, as if to do your Stavro, lay the napkin in your lap, pick up your fork and go to it.  There isn’t a momentary pause to thank God or consider the fact that you have food in front of you as a blessing.  Lighting a candle in church is a beautiful way to enter into the church building.  But picking up a candle and lighting it is a rather meaningless ritual if it is not accompanied by some prayer.  A few years ago, I pasted a prayer over the candlestands in the narthex that asks that the light of Christ come into each of us as we light a candle and enter into His temple.  How many people offer that prayer when they light a candle?  How many people have memorized that prayer? Prayer is not merely ritual, or even words, but a disposition of the heart that opens itself up and expresses true feelings to God—feelings of joy, or sadness, of need, of gratitude.  It is essential to the Orthodox Christian that you open your heart often to God and to communicate Joy, thanksgiving, repentance and need.  This is how we grow closer to God, not by heaping up empty phrases or making empty rituals but coming to God with sincerity, with openness.   

 

Fasting is another tradition of our Orthodox Church.  Many people have said, “I don’t believe in fasting.”  Well, I don’t “believe” in fasting either.  I believe in God.  I use fasting, however, to help let God into my soul.  Fasting is a tool that we use in the Orthodox Church.  The Church Fathers write about passions that assault all people—lust, ego, greed, anger, power—these as passions that assault every human life, they are the root cause of all sin.  The most basic of the passions is hunger.  One can go a long time without a lustful thought, or a greedy thought or an angry thought, but one can only go a few hours without having a hungry thought.  So, when we learn to discipline ourselves to go without food, either abstaining from food on a Sunday morning before receiving Communion, as I spoke about last Sunday, or abstaining from certain foods during Lent or during the regular year on Wednesdays and Fridays, according to the Tradition of the church, the hope is that we will learn to discipline our minds to go without some of the other passions—to put away lust, ego, greed, anger and power but learning to abstain from food. 

 

Now, when one fasts by going out and eating a lobster instead of a steak, or when one eats a whole pizza but says “Well, it didn’t have meat on it,” that isn’t really fasting.  And when one fasts but does not pray, we call that dieting, not fasting. 

Let’s talk about authority for a moment—when you go to the supermarket, who is the authority?  It is the store manager.  So if the store you are in catches on fire, and the store manager says “Get out of the store,” you get out of the store.  You don’t say to the store manager “Hey I have a PhD and you don’t.”  The store manager is the authority and it doesn’t matter how many degrees we hold, if the store manager is asking us to do something, then we are to oblige.  Similarly, when you go to the doctor because you are sick, the doctor is the authority on how to get well.  So, when the doctor says, “you need to do such and such thing,” the answer cannot be “I make more money than you, don’t tell me what to do.”  Ironically, there is lots of authority in the world today—there are rules that govern owning a home, driving a car, keeping your teeth, and holding a job.  That’s why it always confounds me when people have a hard time with the concept of authority in the church.  From a purely pragmatic point of view, if there is authority in the rest of the world, why shouldn’t there be authority in the church.  And from a theological perspective, God, the author of all creation and the architect of salvation is obviously the chief authority in the church.  Other sources of authority include God’s servants—His disciples, His bishops, His priests, His Holy people who have expounded on His words and interpreted them to us in their sacred writings that have become the backbone of many of our traditions and practices, including prayer and fasting.

 

Archimandrite Chrysostomos, in his book The Ancient Fathers of the Desert, relates this story:

A young Abbot was counseled thus, in our own day, by a Holy man:  Today many people, wish for an excuse not to do what God asks of them, find fault with the teaching of the Holy Church and reject correct Christian belief.  Instead, they choose to believe what they wish.  This is akin to a man wishing to believe that he will not die, simply because the notion does not comfort him.  Not only will he fail to prepare for death, as one ought to do, but he will inevitably find himself in the snare of death.  Correct belief is not based on what we wish were true, but on truth itself.

 

Again, speaking for only the Orthodox Church, the truth in this church is that prayer and fasting are the tools that open the windows of the soul and allow the light of Christ to shine in the soul more brightly.  So that if you are a dark person, or if your life is full of sadness, you have to ask yourself, why are the windows to your soul closed, and what can you do to get them open, because the light of Christ warms every soul whose windows are open.  Or to put it another way, there is no soul whose windows are opened that will not be warmed by the light of Christ.

 

This past Wednesday, we celebrated the Feast of the Annunciation as well as the cultural holiday of Greek Independence Day.  The central theme of both feasts is freedom.  Ironically, the central component of freedom is obedience.  We are “free” in America because we have a system of laws that help maintain freedom.  Without laws, there would be chaos and disorder.  Within the church, there are laws also.  For instance, Holy Tradition dictates the manner in which the Liturgy was celebrated this morning.  So you might say that I am bound, encumbered, and have no choice about how to celebrate the Liturgy—I have to begin it with the phrase “Blessed is the Kingdom,” I have to read the prescribed Gospel Lesson, I have to recite the Creed before consecrating the Gifts.  Doesn’t this make me a slave to the text rather than a free thinking priest and Orthodox Christian?  No, it doesn’t.  My goal in coming to church this morning was to encounter God through prayer and worship.  Can you imagine the state of my mind if I was in front of a church filled with people with no book and no guidance on how to worship, if I was “free” to do it my own way?  Imagine how my mind would be troubled—how do I begin, what are the order of events?  My mind would be so cluttered with how to worship, that I wouldn’t actually be able to worship.  Following a set of guidelines frees my mind so that it can concentrate more fully on God, which is the purpose for being here in the first place.  So, it is correct to say that there is more freedom in order, in structure, in rules, with authority.  This is true out in the world, it is certainly true in the church.  We are not supposed to make the church conform to our ideas, but rather we are supposed to conform our lives to the teachings of God, according to universally accepted practices of the Orthodox Church.

 

So, going back to the Gospel reading, when the disciples could not cast out a demon and Christ told them that “this kind can only come out through prayer and fasting,” what He was saying in essence was, “open the windows of your souls through prayer and fasting, allow the light of Christ to come into them, and then you will be able to preach, teach and heal,” the things that a disciple is supposed to be doing, through God’s grace, which comes when we open the windows of our souls to the light of Christ.

 

Someone who sat down with me for confession the other day said a very profound thing as we finished:  “I love going to confession, it’s where I get all the darkness and crap out of me, and feel new, light and good.” 

Lent, with its emphasis on fasting, more corporate prayer, repentance and confession, afford us the opportunity to get the darkness and crap out of ourselves and to feel renewed, lightened and good.  As we make the home stretch on Lent and head towards Holy Week, give some thought to repentance and confession, prayer and fasting.  If these things are part of your life, be sure to maintain them, since they are the windows that keep your soul warm with the light of Christ.  And if these things are not part of your life at present, make a conscious effort in the remaining three weeks of Lent to incorporate prayer and fasting, make that appointment you know you need to make for confession with myself or Fr. John, so that your soul too may be warmed with the light of Christ.

I will close with a quote from the writings of St. John Chrysostom:

Since our thoughts and purposes are the windows of our souls, when you open wide your heart you receive a larger, more generous, divine favor; when you narrow your soul, you can but receive a less abundant grace.  Open wide and lay bare your heart and soul to God, that His splendor may enter into you. Amen.