with the Ordination of Anthony Machnee to the Holy Diaconate
February 7, 2021
In the Name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen!
“This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief” (1 Tim 1:15).
We receive this word from the Apostle Paul in his First Epistle to Timothy as we gather together on this day of the resurrection which falls during the Afterfeast of the Meeting of our Lord, God, and Savior Jesus Christ.
The present feast, as we know, is closely connected with that which we celebrated forty days ago, the feast of the Nativity of Christ. That glorious day marked the birth, not of a simple man or an unknown deity, but rather the birth of our King, the birth of the One who “came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.”
Our King was given the name of Jesus and, like Joshua before him, he will lead God’s people into a new land.
Our King bears the title of Christ, the anointed one of Israel and, like David before him, he will reign as the divinely-ordained Sovereign of God’s people.
In his birth, our King is attended by the hosts of angels, angels who are often thought of as a choir, but are also revealed to be an army, a “host” of heavenly powers.
All of these names, events, and people surrounding the birth of Jesus Christ point to what the Zealots desired and what Herod feared: the arrival of a military, powerful, earthly leader who would overturn the present earthly order of things.
But in none of the glorious feasts of the Lord—neither in his Nativity nor in his Theophany, neither in his death nor in his resurrection—do we behold the earthly glory of a mighty earthly king making a proud conquest or a triumphal march.
Rather, as we witness in the present feast, the One “who came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief” is brought as a little child into the temple by a humble countryman accompanied by his young wife.
They come with the intention of fulfilling what is commanded in the Law of Moses, to offer a pair of turtledoves for the sacrifice for the purification according to the Law. But those with spiritual eyes, the elder Simeon, and the prophetess Anna, observe the situation quite differently, and they recognize their King in the manner of ones who have prepared for long years.
Simeon, we are told, was often in the temple, “looking for the consolation of Israel” (Lk 2:25), and therefore recognized his King, because he had prepared himself through purification and ascetic efforts, thereby obtaining a measure of the Holy Spirit. Anna, the ancient prophetess, had also prepared herself by dedicating her life to the Most High, and had been blessed with spiritual vision.
Seeing the babe, Simeon and Anna saw and proclaimed, not the arrival of a small child with his parents, but that redemption and salvation had come for Israel.
In our world, in our days, we too seek redemption. We are in need of consolation. We are seeking answers, solutions, and salvation—from death, from sin, from our own passions, from suffering, from the agony and despair which so often fill our lives.
We too, like the woman in today’s Gospel, often feel like crying out: “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David! My daughter is severely demon-possessed” (Mt 15:22), not because we share the same life circumstances as her and her daughter, but because we share the same suffering of heart and anxiety of mind.
Perhaps this cry which erupts from the heart of an anguished and anxious mother reflects our own anxiety, fear, and uncertainty—especially over the past year of pandemic, a year which has brought forth increased cries of despair,
of exhaustion,
of sorrow,
of loneliness,
and of mourning.
The cry of the mother in today’s Gospel, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David! My daughter is severely demon-possessed,” echoes in the cries of mothers today.
In a recent news report about the effects that the pandemic is having especially on mothers, the following words are recorded from one mother:
“I wish I had the energy to scream. All my energy just goes into getting through every day, until I can go to sleep. I have three kids, all in virtual school since March, and work full time. And it just feels like failing, every day, at everything I do. And I just want to change, want to be by myself for one minute. I don’t know how to keep doing this. But there really isn’t another option”
Or these words from another:
“I cannot remember the last time I did not worry, I did not spend my day worrying about so much stuff. Every day is something different. I just want to wake up and go through my day and not worry, and not wonder, and not know what the future holds. Because this right here sucks. And I’m sick of it. I’m so sick of it.”
What is common to these mothers in the year 2021 and to the mother in the Gospel account from two thousand years ago is the very real suffering of those who are the chief of sinners, of those who may feel like they are dogs waiting for crumbs to fall from the master’s table, of those who are longing for healing and for relief—for themselves or for their children, or parents, or brothers, or friends.
The reality is that we all share in this suffering, we are all the chief among sinners, and we all long for relief from that suffering, whether our suffering is of our soul, our mind, or our body.
Suffering offers us the opportunity to approach God and to be united with Him.
It reveals to us the vanity and powerlessness of human help, or at least its limited and relative character.
By turning towards God we can, even in suffering, find the most powerful help, the most important aid, and the greatest consolation. In suffering, we understand the limits of our fallen nature in the most intense and tragic manner.
We lose the illusion of strength and self-sufficiency which we often have when we are healthy, and instead we discover our weakness and fragility. We behold our own poverty and nakedness (cf. Gen 3:7), and recognize that we are dust (Gen 3:19).
Through suffering, the circumstances force us to abandon many of our attachments to this world; we are stripped down, we are simplified. We are brought to concentrate on the essential or brought to seek it out.
And what is essential?
To be as the woman in today’s Gospel, to be as Simeon, and as Anna, that is, to turn towards God and to attach ourselves to Him alone, to put our trust in Him alone, to constantly seek His help, to await everything from His grace.
To see God’s salvation, to see the redemption of the world, we must make efforts, and ask God for the gift of the Spirit. We must labor to obtain the Spirit and to be prepared to meet the Lord.
But these efforts and these labors are not the herculean exertions of a professional athlete or a trained soldier, although these are often the images that are presented by the saints for our consideration.
What is intended by those images is for us to be pointed towards faith, the faith which is reflected not in great and mighty deeds, but in daily small and consistent effort—the effort to read a verse of Holy Scripture, to treat others with kindness, and to offer a heartfelt prayer, even if it is inelegant.
It is the faith which our Lord identifies in today’s Gospel when he says to her: “‘O woman, great is your faith! Let it be to you as you desire.’ And her daughter was healed from that very hour” (Mt 15:28).
It is the faith which is revealed in humility, in the willing acceptance of the cross of suffering, and not just of suffering, but of longsuffering, as the Apostle reminds us: “For this reason I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might show all longsuffering, as a pattern to those who are going to believe on Him for everlasting life” (1 Tim 1:16).
Much of our suffering on this earth is longsuffering.
Simeon and Anna were elders when they beheld their redemption and their salvation. The mother in today’s Gospel, as many others in the Scriptures, bore her suffering for many years. All of these righteous people were awaiting the Lord’s consolation. They were hoping for redemption. They were seeking salvation.
And they received it, as we receive it, through the King who brings us victory; though the One who makes us one with God, and removes the curse of separation; through Him who makes us sons and daughters of His Father, and fellow heirs with Him in His Kingdom.
On this day, let us rejoice in Him, together with Simeon, seeing our salvation! Let us proclaim to the world, together with Anna, that we have been redeemed! Let us, in turn, work to obtain the spiritual vision to recognize Him and respond to the King who comes in humility by putting on His humility.
To Him be the Glory, together with His Father and Holy Spirit, Amen!