Lent VI Sunday Homily John IX: 1-41

LENT VI

John IX: 1-41

The Healing of the Man born Blind

As the Lord and his disciples passed by, he noticed a man who had been born blind. Seeing him there, the disciples wanted to know the reason for the man’s blindness, as there was a commonly held view that physical disabilities often manifested as a consequence of sin. Understanding that he could not have sinned before birth, some people believed that sometimes children may suffer in order to bring retribution to the parents, because they assumed there must be a reason for his suffering. The Lord’s answer authoritatively announces that sin is not the reason for his blindness, nor had he or his parents done anything wrong. There are many reasons for trials and maladies.

His reply that through his healing “the works of God might be made manifest” should not, however, be taken to mean that God created him blind in order to later heal him, as that would suggest a capricious and unfeeling God. St. Cyril of Alexandria, trying to clarify the Lord’s comment rejects this interpretation: “Since God is the Fountain of all righteousness, God will neither do not determine anything whatsoever in human affairs or in those of the rest of creation that is unbecoming to God or differs at all from the true righteousness of justice.” Rather, he believes that we should not curiously examine things that are too deep, or pry into those that are too hard or rashly attempt to discover those things that are hidden in the divine and ineffable counsel alone but should piously acknowledged that there are certain wondrous things that God alone understands.

The Lord speaks of the salvic mission for which the Father sent him with some urgency, and emphasises its priority over mere theological speculation. The day of opportunity passes, never to return.  We should avoid speculation and instead use the time God has given us to fulfil His commands. Jesus calls himself ‘light’ because He enlightens souls, but also because He was about to open the blind man’s eyes through dust, just as He had done at the beginning of creation. The light remains in the world as long as Christ’s presence remains in the world. The brightness of Christ overwhelms the darkness.

Jesus performs this healing on the Sabbath, by which the Evangelist exposes his opponents’ real design, which was to accuse him of violating the Jewish law and thus detract from the miracle.  In spite of this seeming violation, the one healed is determined to show that the power of the healer was not exerted in vain; the Pharisees’ focus remains on the violation. There is a carnal and a spiritual keeping of the Sabbath, which they do not seem to understand. St. Cyril the Great also reminds us that there was a precedent for work on the Sabbath, as this was the day when the Jewish hero Joshua captured Jericho.

In the present account, there is such a concentration on whether Jesus could do the miracle on the Sabbath that the magnificence of the miracle gets lost in the flurry of accusations. Even the blind man gets enlisted as an arbiter in the dispute among the Pharisees. Saint John Chrysostom says that the blind man’s bold declaration “shows how strong truth is and how weak falsehood is. Truth, though it grasps only ordinary people, makes them to appear glorious; falsehood, even when it is among the strong, shows them to be weak.” The Pharisees nonetheless try to hide their attack under the guise of religion, but end up blaspheming God instead.

The blind man no longer tolerates blindness in others and demonstrates that he has already become a disciple of Jesus. No matter how hard they try to disprove what happened, the miracle remains incontrovertible evidence of the power of Jesus. The Pharisees counter that God would not listen to sinners. Origen, however reminds us of the psalm, “If Thou shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand?” (CXXX: 3) and points out our Lord’s eating and drinking with publicans and sinners and His ministry to repentant sinners. Either way, the facts prove that Jesus is not a sinner, and the testimony of the formerly blind man demonstrates the inferiority of the Pharisees’ argument as well as his own insights of faith.

Jesus evokes a confession of faith in His encounter with the blind man as a gift of life, not as a condition of healing. Jesus is the personification of Siloam (“the sent one”) for this man, since He performed the work of the Father who had sent him in healing this man. When He asked the man if he believes in the Son of man, the blind man recognises the voice of the one who healed him but still it is on the borderline between unbelief and faith. But when the Lord reveals Himself to the man, he does confess his faith, and worship follows this confession.

In this miracle we see our Lord once again dividing between the light in the darkness, between the sight and blindness of faith. Jesus’ purpose in coming into the world becomes clear in his desire to save it. Because the Pharisees refuse to see this, their sin remains. Jesus heals both the physical and spiritual blindness evident here. The passage ends with the sharp encounter of our Lord with the Pharisees about which St. John Chrysostom said,

“And then he speaks concerning their blindness. For he directs his whole speech towards this purpose, that is, so they cannot say, ‘We did not refuse to come to you because of our blindness, but we turn away and avoid you as a deceiver.’ And  there is also a reason the evangelist adds, And ‘some of the Pharisees who were with him heard these words.’ He wants to remind us that those were the very persons who had first withstood Christ and then wished to stone him. For there were some who only followed in appearance and were easily changed to the contrary opinion.”

“I was blind and now I see.” This is our everlasting experience as children of the Heavenly Father. We were blind and He restored our sight so that we can behold the manifold mercies of God and receive true understanding of the Sacred Scriptures.


Lent V Sunday Homily John V: 1-18

Lent V

John V: 1-18

Until the 19th century, there was no evidence outside of St. John’s Gospel for the existence of the Pool of Bethesda, so some argued that the gospel was written later, probably by someone without first-hand knowledge of the city of Jerusalem, and that the ‘pool’ had only a metaphorical, rather than historical, significance. However, at the end of the 19th century, archaeologists discovered the remains of a pool fitting the description in John’s Gospel. Its proximity to the Temple has made some scholars conclude that it was a mikvah, or Jewish ritual bath, whilst the discovery of many pagan votive offerings suggest that in Roman times, it was used by the pagans to honour Asclepius, the god of healing.

The paralytic man, who had been coming to the pool for an incredible thirty-eight years, spoke of the tradition that once a year the waters were agitated by an angel, and the necessity of being the first person lowered into the pool after this visitation. As he had no one to assist him, he remained unhealed. Bearing this in mind the Lord’s question, “Do you want to be healed?” might seem to be rather foolish and indeed the patristic interpretation of it reveals a variety of interpretations.

The fourth century bishop, Amphilochius of Iconium, interprets it as demonstrating our Lord’s modesty saying, “He did not want to make himself appear someone great by making an announcement, as it were, of his miracles.” St. John Chrysostom views the paralytic as one whose heart has been crushed through extended illness, so that he does not respond angrily to the question, but answers gently and with great mildness, relating all his circumstances, asking for nothing further, as though he was speaking to a physician and merely wanted to tell the story of his sufferings. “Perhaps he hoped that Christ might be of some use to him in putting him into the water and hoped to stir up some sympathy with his words.” Saint Cyril the Great, on the other hand, sees this as part of the “Great goodness of Christ in that he does not wait for the entreaties from the sick but anticipates their response with his own lovingkindness. See how he runs to the one who is lying down and how compassionate he is to one who was sick with no one to comfort him.” He also suggests that “the inquiry as to whether he would like to be relieved from his infirmity was not that of one saying out of ignorance what was obvious, but of one stirring up an increased desire and diligent entreaty. The question as to whether he wanted to obtain what he longed for is huge. It has the kind of force and expression that conveys that Jesus has the power to give and is now ready to do so, only waiting for the request of the one who will receive this grace.”

The paralytic may not have known whom he had encountered but, with the benefit of hindsight, we know that this was an encounter with God. It may not have had the grandeur of Moses speaking face-to-face with God in the burning Bush, but we know that all those who encountered the Saviour were changed. Whether it was Simon Peter being called from his fishing, with a lifetime of apostolic ministry ahead of him; the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, called to sit as judge of his creator; or the repentant thief on the cross, with only minutes to live: yet their lives were irreparably changed.

In the light of the Saviour’s penetrating gaze, where our human condition of sin and alienation from God – our spiritual sickness – as well as our individual faults, are revealed, then the question “Do you want to be healed?” is actually very appropriate. Being healed changes everything. Although the Lord forgives and heals freely, there is always a cost. Are we willing to pay that cost? Are we willing for the change that it brings ? The Book of Hebrews tells us that, “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (X: 31). Yet strange as it might appear, there are some people who do not want to be healed. Their ailments have come to define them. They do not want to be helped out of their weakness or can’t be bothered to make the effort. They have become used to thriving on the sympathy and pity of others. Too often they shrink from assuming responsibility for their own lives. It is a tragic truth, but there are people who will openly turn their backs on the deliverance offered them, all because of the responsibility that will come with it. They fear they won’t be able to handle the changes or the responsibilities that will become a regular part of their lives if they accept healing. What is true of physical, mental and emotional maladies is even more the case with spiritual sickness.

The Lord’s response in this case is very direct. “Rise, take up your bed and walk.” St Augustine suggests that the word “Rise” was the word of  healing, because we are told that at once he was healed; whilst St. Ephraim the Syrian points out that the command to carry his bed was to demonstrate the fullness and instantaneousness of his healing, not like the sick who  come back to health gradually.

Unlike some of the other healings performed by our Lord, the healed paralytic is not brought to faith and, indeed, has no idea who it is who has healed him. Indeed, when challenged by the Pharisees for carrying his bed on the Sabbath he passes the responsibility to Jesus, which might at first appear as betrayal of his benefactor, but as Chrysostom says, is a bold confession of his cure. When our Lord later meets him in the Temple, he is told, “See, you are well ! Sin no more, that nothing worse befall you.” We should not use this text to imply that all illness is the result of sin. In healing others the Lord often makes no mention of sins at all and Chrysostom suggests that this may be a specific matter addressed to this man, or the Lord may have admonished him, knowing his great patience of mind, anticipating that he would be an admonition, keeping him healthy both by the benefit of the healing and the fear of future ills, for he knew what sins he had formally committed.

The Church in her wisdom has chosen accounts of physical healing, not merely to reveal the glory of God and the compassion of the Lord but also to remind us of our spiritual sicknesses and lead us to review our lives, turn to God in repentance and seek His healing grace.  There is a charge in the Byzantine Rite of Confession, where the priest standing beside the Penitent, and pointing to the ikon of the Saviour, says: Behold, my child, Christ standeth here invisibly and receiveth thy confession: wherefore, be not ashamed, neither be afraid, and conceal thou nothing from me; but tell me without hesitation all things which thou hast done; and so shalt thou have pardon from our Lord Jesus Christ. Lo, His Holy Image is before us: and I am but a witness, bearing testimony before him of all things which thou hast to say to me. But if thou shalt conceal anything from me, thou shalt have the greater sin. Take heed therefore, lest, having come to a physician, thou depart unhealed.”

May this holy season, in which through prayer and repentance, we seek an encounter with the living God, bring us closer to our Saviour Jesus Christ, the Healer and Great Physician of our souls. Amen.0000


Terror attack on Westminster

I have been very touched by the many messages of condolence and sympathy sent to me from abroad, following yesterday’s terrorist attack on Parliament. Although, by comparison with other countries, we have been spared such serious attacks recently, we knew that it was only a matter of time before something of this nature occurred again. Sadly these incidents are all too frequent and come close to each of us. Even in Charlton, a generally quiet London suburb, I vividly recall the explosion of the IRA bomb at the nearby King’s Arms pub in 1974 and, more recently (May 2013), the vicious murder of Fusilier Lee Rigby, only a few hundred yards from the Church Secretariat.  Indeed, it is only a few months since I wrote in a similar vein to H.H. Pope Tawadros about the bombing in al-Boutroseya Church. The international dimension of terrorism overflows the boundaries of nation states, so that in yesterday’s atrocities the injured included tourists from South Korea and French schoolchildren.

For me, the symbol of humanity and compassion was the picture of paramedics in the grounds of parliament trying to save the life of the perpetrator of those atrocities, alongside one of our government ministers covered in the blood of the murdered policeman, who had been trying mouth to mouth resuscitation on the victim. Both scenes emphasised the sanctity of life and a common humanity which transcends all other thoughts. In our prayers last night for the dead and injured we also prayed for the soul of the murderer, who will have to stand before a just and righteous God alongside his victims.

It is my hope that those high ideals, which are derived from and are embedded in our Christian faith, will continue to inspire all decent people, whilst those who believe that violence is the only way to achieve their aspirations will be repelled by the indiscriminate cruelty and pointlessness of such heartless barbarity.

+ Seraphim


Lent IV Sunday Homily Ephesians VI: 10-24

Lent IV

Ephesians VI: 10-24

Ancient Rome was a military Empire and it is hardly surprising, therefore, to find that the Apostle St. Paul frequently uses military metaphors to highlight the need for Christians to be disciplined and focused in their spiritual lives. In Philippians  (II: 25) and Philemon (I: 2) he describes Christians as “fellow soldiers” and uses the image of a soldier in his second letter to Timothy as a metaphor for hard work and dedication. In his first epistle to the Corinthians (IX: 7) this image is related to church workers receiving payment, with a metaphorical reference to a soldier’s rations and expenses. However, it is here in Ephesians that he develops more fully the image of the armour of God, replicating exactly what the Roman legionary would have worn: breastplate, belt, sandals and helmet, whilst being armed with a sword and shield.

The key to interpreting this is offered by St. Jerome, who reminds us that in Romans (XIII: 14) the Apostle has told us to clothe ourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ.

“From what we read of the Lord our Saviour throughout the Scriptures, it is manifestly clear that the whole armour of Christ is the Saviour himself. It is he whom we are asked to put on. It is one and the same thing to say ‘put on the whole armour of God’ and put on the Lord Jesus Christ.’ Our belt is truth and breastplate is righteousness. The Saviour is called both truth and righteousness. So no one can doubt that he himself is that very belt and breastplate. On this principle is also to be understood as the preparation of the gospel of peace. He himself is the shield of faith and the helmet of salvation. He is the sword of the spirit, because he is the Word of God, living and efficacious, the utterance of which is stronger than any helmet and sharp on both sides.”

This armour is required by us in our battle against the Devil’s schemes, or as the Authorised version translates it, “wiles.” I prefer this term as it conveys the sense of devious or cunning stratagems employed in manipulating or persuading someone, a disarming or seductive manner intended to ensnare. St. John Chrysostom warns us,

“The enemy does not make war on us straightforwardly or openly but by his wiles. What are the Devils wiles? They consist in trying to capture us by some shortcut and always by deceit … The devil never openly lays temptation before us. He does not mention idolatry out loud. But by his stratagems he presents idolatrous choices to us, by persuasive words and by employing clever  euphemisms.”

The Apostle tells us that we are not contending against flesh and blood, that is real physical assaults of an enemy, but against “principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.” In other words, we are battling against spiritual forces, against fallen angels who are agents of the devil.

Most of the armour mentioned by the Apostle is defensive. The faithful are girdled about by truth. Righteousness, must always accompany faith and defends us like a breastplate. Our feet carry the promised gospel, which will bring peace both to the nations and to us. Faith, the chief of virtues, assures us of God’s providence and thus acts as a shield against temptation. Christ, as our helmet, protects our inward affections.

Our only weapon is the word of God, described here as the ‘sword of the spirit’, by which we put the devil to flight; but are we to understand this as telling us to draw inspiration, protection or even quote from the scriptures in our battle ? It is actually much more, because the Greek word used here is Rhema, not Logos, and conveys the sense of light or edification spoken from God. It is “a word that is spoken”, when the Holy Spirit delivers a message to the heart such as the faith given to us through hearing the word of Christ (Romans X: 17) or living on every word (rhema) that comes from the mouth of God. It is in fact the activity of the Spirit (Matthew IV: 4) in prayer as verse 18 amplifies our understanding by employing this word for “prayer in the spirit.”

There is a great Orthodox spiritual classic, “Unseen Warfare,” which began life as a counter-reformation book of spiritual direction, but was later richly amplified by an Athonite monk and a Russian Orthodox bishop. This lists four dispositions and spiritual activities, as it were arming yourself with invisible weapons, “the most trustworthy and unconquerable of all”: first, never rely on yourself in anything; secondly, bear always in your heart a perfect and all-daring trust in God alone; thirdly, strive without ceasing; and fourthly, remain constantly in prayer, through which the first three weapons are acquired and gain full force, and from which all of other blessings are obtained.[1]

 “Prayer is the means of attracting and the hand for receiving all the blessings, so richly poured on us from the inexhaustible source of God’s infinite love and goodness towards us. In spiritual warfare, by prayer put your battle-axe into God’s hand, that He should fight your enemies and overcome them. But in order that prayer should manifest its full power in you, it is needful that it stay constantly in you, as a natural function of your spirit.”[2]

St Paul is trying to reassure us that we do not enter into battle without being properly equipped. That equipment is twofold: our spiritual preparation and the gifts given to us by God as baptised members of His church. It is appropriate that the church has selected this as one of the Lenten readings, upon which we are called to reflect and to recall us to spiritual vigilance. By emphasising the nature of our enemy he is not intending to frighten or alarm us so that we feel totally inadequate in our preparation for battle: puny Davids setting out to meet Goliath! On the contrary, we are armed with an invincible weapon and assured that if we trust in it, we shall overcome.

[1] Unseen Warfare, chapter 1.

[2] Unseen Warfare, chapter 46.


Pilgrimage to Shrine of St. Chad

Father Alexis Raphael will lead a pilgrimage to venerate the relics of St Chad at St Chad’s Roman Catholic Cathedral, Queensway, Birmingham on Monday 27th March. Those wishing to join should meet at 11:00 am outside the front entrance of the cathedral. Afterwards we will have lunch and then visit the Anglican Cathedral in Colmore Row to see the famous Burne-Jones windows. Entrance to both cathedrals is free

For further information please contact Fr Alexis on 07902290225.