Sermon

Holy Tuesday 2007

I see Thy bridal chamber, adorned o my Savior, and I have no wedding garment that I may enter therein. Make radiant the vesture of my soul, Giver of Light and save me.

For three evenings now, we’ve had the opportunity to gaze on the icon of Christ as the Bridegroom, or Nymphios. Earlier today, I was sitting in the pews of the church and gazing upon the icon myself. From the vantage point sitting in the pews, it is hard to see the altar, because our icon of the Nymphios is so large. Thus, the usual view of both the altar sanctuary, and the actions that take place inside are obscured. It leaves little to look at other than to stare at this icon, and hopefully to do some thinking.

The description of Christ as the Bridegroom makes a connection between marriage and our journey to salvation. Christ serves as the Bridegroom, the church and each member of it is the bride. Indeed, for those who are married, or those who have been around married people enough to make an evaluation of marriage, there is indeed connection between the two. In a good marriage, the words “I’m sorry” and “thank you” are uttered as much as “I love you.” In a good marriage, there is continual work for improvement. Changes and adjustments are made for the good of the relationship whenever they are needed. Some marriages get into a rut—the newness of the relationship, call it lust, infatuation, or just the novelty of the thing wears off. Perhaps all marriages go through such a stage. And this is when there must be some investment of time and energy to recapture those feelings of excitement. Putting off making that investment for any amount of time and the relationship grows stale and eventually cold.

In the journey to salvation, there must be continual work for improvement. Changes and adjustments must be made for the good of the relationship between ourselves and God whenever they are needed. Sometimes in our Christian journey, we get into a rut—the newness of the relationship with God, the initial joy of being a Christian, or just the novelty of the thing wears off. Perhaps all Christian journeys go through such a stage. And this is when there must be some investment of time and energy to recapture those feelings of excitement. Putting off making that investment for any amount of time and the relationship between us and God grows stale and eventually cold.

Imagine that there is a line painted down the center of a long and straight road. You are told to close your eyes and start walking down the road to see how long you can go before you drift away from the line. Those without good balance may only be able to walk five feet before they start to go away from the line. Those with exceptional balance may walk 100 feet before they start to drift away. But eventually, even the person with excellent balance will drift away. They won’t be able to walk the straight line for miles and miles.

God, as we know, is perfect. It is impossible for us to be perfect, no matter how good we are. It’s like trying to walk a straight line for miles and miles with your eyes closed. It simply cannot be done, no matter how good your balance is. At some point, you’ll have to be directed back to the line.

When we sin, it’s like drifting away from the line. Some will drift farther than others and some will drift away more quickly than others. But all will drift away at some point. The desire to get back to the line and the journey back is called repentance. The church, through the sacraments, is what helps to guide us back in our journey when we get lost, when we drift away.

This evening, in the themes of this service, we meet two people who are lost. Both are blinded, so to speak by lust. One is a sinful harlot. The other is a member of the inner circle, one of the 12 Disciples. One has a lust for the things of the flesh. The other has a lust for money. Both become familiar with Christ, but each deals with their passion differently. The sinful woman comes to Christ in confession, as we heard in the Hymn of Kassiane, “Woe is me! For me, night is an ecstasy of excess, dark and moonless, and full of sinful desire.” The disciple, Judas, when tempted by greed, instead of running to the Lord, runs to his desire. Perhaps he doesn’t realize what he is doing, he so blinded by greed. Because after fully comprehending his betrayal of Christ and that it is going to result in Christ being crucified, he came back and returned the pieces of silver to the temple leadership who had paid him off. But even then, he still is unable to run to God in repentance, but loses all hope and goes off and kills himself.

The sinful woman, on the other hand, washes the feet of Christ with her tears of repentance, and cries out to Him, “Do not disregard me Your servant, for Your mercy is boundless.” This is why her repentance is called great, because here was someone, ostensibly a lost cause, gone as far away from that straight line as could be, and she found her way back through humility and repentance. Judas on the other hand, is called a monster for his callousness. Because here he was, in the inner circle, with every opportunity to repent and run to the Lord for help, and yet, he couldn’t find the humility to do so.

As we finish the bridegroom services for this year, the theme of Holy Week will shift from watchfulness, vigilance, and unworthiness, to the theme of healing and hope. If you don’t have the humility to find wounds in your soul, there will be nothing for God to heal this week. And if you can’t see the need for repentance, even though we all have it, then there will be little cause for hope. For three days, we have gazed on Christ the Bridegroom, and hopefully we have done so with a sense of both sadness and hope. The popular hymn, Ton Nimphona Sou, I see Your bridal chamber, captures both themes. “I see Your bridal chamber adorned of my Savior”—this expresses hope in the majesty of Christ and of the bridal chamber, heaven, which we hope to one day inhabit. “And I have no wedding garment that I may enter therein”—this expresses sadness at the sinful state in which we find ourselves, that may indeed prevent the un-cleansed soul and impure heart to enter into the chamber, into the Kingdom of heaven. “Make radiant the vesture of my soul, giver of light and save me”—This expresses hope that Christ has the power to make a darkened soul radiant and to save that soul. However, the first move towards this belongs to us. Will we be like Judas, and sell our soul out to the things of this world? Or will we be like the sinful woman, who came to Christ in a total sense of brokenness, ready to embrace and kiss His sacred feet and wipe them with the tresses of her hair, if this is what was necessary for salvation?