What is known as the Great Commission, the great command or appointment, is that part in the Gospel narrative in which Jesus sends His Apostles out into the world with the words, “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” (Matt. 28:19). The task of the Apostles was to spread the good news of salvation to all people of all nations. What they preached was the salvation which is given us through Jesus Christ, “that if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved,” (Rom. 10:8). The assignment given to the Apostles, which remains the mission of the Church to this day, is to preach the Gospel, the good news of our salvation, teaching people to place their faith in God’s mercy.
Having this in mind, it’s always interesting when we read in the gospels how Jesus was amazed at the faith of those to whom the Apostles had not yet preached to, those that were not not even of the chosen people, that is, the faith of the Gentiles. We are given such an example in this morning’s gospel (Matt: 8:5-13) reading when a Roman soldier, a centurion -probably a pagan- approaches Jesus with a request, for neither himself nor even a fellow, high-ranking officer such as he was, but a request for his lowly servant.
He doesn’t come to Jesus with a lengthy, overdrawn plea, but rather he comes straight to the point and says, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, dreadfully tormented.” At once Jesus replies, “I will come and heal him.”
Now, there is a tradition among the Jews that a Jew would be defiled if he were to enter the home of a Gentile. We see this, for instance, during Jesus’ trial when He was led into the Roman Praetorium to stand before the Roman governor Pilate, but they themselves would not go in “lest they should be defiled, but that they might eat the Passover” (John 18:28). So then, it might be that this centurion was very familiar with this Jewish custom and had this tradition in mind and that’s why, out of respect to this local belief, that he didn’t ask Jesus to go to his home.
However, we are led to believe that this was not the centurion’s reasoning, rather he was simply a man who had placed his faith in God. In fact, his faith was so great that Christ declares with astonishment, “I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel” (v. 10). Although this centurion came to Jesus with humility and meekness it was something else that helped his understanding of faith. And that something else he describes when he says, “For I am also a man under authority, having soldiers under me. And I say to this one, ‘Go’ and he goes; and to another ‘Come’ and he comes…”. “[And so] only speak the word, and my servant will be healed.” It was the centurion’s understanding of authority, and more specifically his obedience to that authority, which provoked those words from Jesus in praise of this man’s faith.
Truth be told, we all understand the concept of authority. The problem, however, is that not everyone wants to submit to it. It is in our church that we confess Jesus as being not only the Savior of the world, not just the only begotten Son, but we confess Him as ABSOLUTE TRUTH. After all, He says about Himself in the Gospel, “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” (John 14:6). Subsequently, our faith in God and allegiance to Him is not so that He can bring us happiness, so that He can lead us to the truth. Moreover, our faith and participation in the Church is not so that we might be revealed the meaning and purpose of our lives on this earth. Rather, it is our faith and belief that Christ is the Truth, He is the Resurrection and the Life and our purpose is to submit to Him knowing that if only He speaks the word we will be healed, our sins will be forgiven and we will be saved. Amen.
Deacon Milan Medakovic quoted St. Bishop Nikolai (Velimirovic) in his Vidovan homily saying that the bishop:
“… describes those that choose an earthly kingdom in the following manner: They are afraid of the kingdom of heaven because they cannot see where it begins; but they cling to the earthly kingdom, because they cannot see where it ends…..Pleasure and its abyss are arrayed in the same garments.”
In the life of St. John of Shanghai, which you can read here, it is recorded how St. John knew his death was approaching. We read:
“In May, 1966, a woman who had known Vladika for twelve years and whose testimony, according to Metropolitan Philaret, is “worthy of complete confidence” was amazed to hear him say, “I will die soon, at the end of June – not in San Francisco, but in Seattle.” Again, on the evening before his departure for Seattle, four days before his death, Vladika astonished a man for whom he had just served a moleben with the words, “You will not kiss my hand again.” And on the day of his death, at the conclusion of the Divine Liturgy which he celebrated, he spent three hours in the altar praying, emerging not long before his death, which occurred on July 2, 1966. He died in his room in the parish building next to the church. He was heard to fall and, having been placed in a chair by those who ran to help him, breathed his last peacefully and with little evident pain, in the presence of the miracle-working Kursk Icon of the Sign.”
Perhaps the most fascinating part of this account is the fact that the holy Vladika still went to Seattle. That is, he went to his death. One wonders if we, knowing where death was silently waiting for us, would go and meet it?
For truly, as the holy bishop says, the pleasures of this life have been sinisterly disguised by the devil to make us believe that they too will have no end. But indeed they will. In fact, we detach ourselves from this earthly life, and the deceitful trap of the evil one, precisely by concentrating on its end. In the morning we pray, “Suddenly the Judge shall come…”, while in the evening, “…grant me tears, and remembrance of death…”; in the Creed we “…look for the resurrection of the dead…”. And during the Divine Liturgy, among our prayers for the health of our loved ones, we also always keep our focus on our own sudden end that God might grant us “A Christian ending to our life…”
For this we pray.
e commemorate today a Russian Saint but also of America and Asia and Europe, one who is of our modern times, one that we can relate to but not in the sense that we have something in common. No, St. John of Shanghai and San Francisco was not like us, he was a holy man but a holy man in a modern era when such things seemed to be outdated, when the asceticism of which we read about in the lives of the Saints we consider to be of another time, we are given the life of St. John.
He graduated from the Belgrade University with a degree in theology and in 1929 he taught the seminarians at the St. John the Theologian Seminary in Bitola, in the Ohrid Archbishopric which at the time was administered bySt. Bishop Nikolai (Velimirovic). Leaving the Seminary once Bishop Nikolai told the seminarians, “Children, listen to Fr. John, he is an angel of God in human form.” Bishop Nikolai is also quoted as saying, If you want to see a living Saint go to Fr. John in Bitola.
The Synod of the Russian Church Abroad elected him in 1934 as bishop, with the intention of sending him as auxiliary to the Diocese of China, in Shanghai. There is a story told by one of his acquaintances from Yugoslavia who says that there couldn’t have been anything further from his thoughts. She met him on a tramcar and asked him what he is doing in Belgrade. He replied that he is there because he mistakenly received a summons which should have gone to another monastic named John, who is to be consecrated as bishop. When the same person met Fr. John the next day, he told her that the mistake is much worse than he thought as they intended to consecrate him as bishop! In 1934 Metropolitan Antony (Khrapovitsky) consecrated a bishop for the last time, a young and remarkable man he had first met in Kharkov in 1914 and whom he had made a monk in 1926. Metropolitan Antony recognized holiness in the new bishop when he said, “This man, who appears weak is, in fact, a miracle of ascetic steadfastness and determination in our time of universal spiritual weakening.”
Thus begins the amazing story which is the life of St. John of Shanghai and San Francisco. Moreover, today is a feast day we, both Old and New Calendarists, celebrate together on the day of his repose July 2, 1966. This I find interesting for a number of reasons but recently I commented on a blog where blogger Trevor-Peter (here) remarks on the parting of ways between New and Old Calendarists after the feast of Pentecost. “But for those blessed 18 weeks–more than a third of the year–we all share in common the movable feasts and fasts,” he says.
Today we also share in common this Saint of our times. (Granted, I think he is always celebrated on the closest Saturday to July 2). A blessed feast to all!
By the way — a DVD was recently made (perhaps you’ve heard about it) chronicling the life of St. John which you can purchase here.
In the recent Orthodox Life (which came in last week’s mail) there was a fascinating piece, Dostoevsky’s Spiritual Therapy, written by David Starr, professor at St. John’s College. At one place he cites a chapter from The Devils in which Stavrogin, with no real repentance, conveys to Bishop Tikhon his sins. After he admits to raping a girl that later committed suicide, “Tikhon,” David writes, “assures him that no crime is greater than to offend one of these little ones….”.
Why is such a deed the worst one can do to another person, Professor Starr asks. He concludes:
“Offense and offend do not mean what upsets or make angry, as they seem to now; one might translate the Greek skandalon and skandalizo, cause of sin and cause to sin. Originally a skandalonis is a stumbling block, and to scandalize is to cause another to fall. Our Lord is saying that children who by nature are disposed to faith are tripped into unbelief by older people who create obstacles for them, to the horror of their guardian angels and the sorrow of God. This is how the mystery of sin and death is passed on to each generation of fallen humanity.”
H/T Politika
According to an article which appeared in Tuesday’s Politika newspaper, “The Battle of Kosovo between Serbian and Turkish armies, whose anniversary we commemorated the day before yesterday, the killing of Sultan Murat, the heroic act of Milos Obilic and the myth which follows him to this day, received a new, Albanian version.”
Anna De Lillio’s The Battle of Kosovo 1389: An Albanian Epic is scheduled to be released on July 7, 2009. According to the publisher’s advertisement:
“The fantastic tale of Murat’s campaign in Kosovo and his assassination by the Albanian knight Millosh Kopiliq is more often presented from the Serb perspective, which extols particularly the valour of the Serbian knight Milos Obilic. By proposing an alternative narrative, The Battle of Kosovo offers a more nuanced understanding of this powerful myth of nationalism and belonging. Anna Di Lellio’s sensitive commentary explores the significance of this epic poem and of the battle more generally in post-war Kosovo in reinforcing a collective identity that emphasises resistance against foreign oppression and identifies strongly with a European, predominantly Christian culture. The Battle of Kosovo is an important addition to our understanding of the past, present and future of this complex Balkan nation as well as the broader issues of national memory and identity.”
In an earlier article about the present day situation in Kosovo a local citizen makes the comment, reflecting on past mistakes, “Once we had some sort of a freedom. One could go anywhere they pleased but now we’re in the dark. Twenty years ago we didn’t grasp some basic things, we made mistakes and that’s why we have to be in the dark now. We had wrong politics towards the world, towards this feast of Vidovdan, towards our own lives. Now we have to wait for the Albanians to make the mistakes.” Maybe it’s just me but with the way things are going we’re going to have to wait a long time before the Albanians, or anyone else for that matter, makes a mistake. They seem to find a way to place the blame on us.
