Luke 13: 10-17
Ephesians 2:14-22
Even as we hear the words of St. Paul
in today’s epistle reading that Christ is our peace, we are reminded yet again
by the conflict in Syria that our world desperately needs the Prince of Peace Whose birth we will celebrate in a just a few weeks. We have prayed for months for the release of
the kidnapped Metropolitan Paul and Archbishop John, but this week we have
added to the list Mother Pelagia and the nuns and orphans of St. Thekla Convent
in Maaloula. They too have apparently
been abducted. Following the directive of our own Metropolitan Philip, we are
now praying for them all in every service, and I ask you also to remember them
in your daily prayers for safety and freedom.
Even
though they live far away and we do not know them personally, these bishops,
nuns, and orphans are not strangers to us, but fellow members of the Body of
which we are a part. We are one with them in the Flesh and Blood of Jesus
Christ. As St. Paul taught, the Lord has united both
Jew and Gentile in His one Body, the Church.
People from all over the world are no longer strangers and foreigners to
one another, but “fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household
of God.” No matter what language we
speak or our national or ethnic heritage, we all “have access by one Spirit to
the Father.”
Our
Savior came to bring us true peace, the fullness of reconciliation with God and
one another. His peace is manifest when
we share a common life as “a holy temple in the Lord…a dwelling place of God in
the Spirit.” Of course, we are pleased
when wars cease and enemies learn to live together without open violence and
hatred. But Christ came not simply to
make our life on earth a bit more tolerable, but to loose us from the bondage
and corruption that our sins, and those of all humanity, have brought about. That is why He was born at Christmas.
As
the Lord was teaching in a synagogue on the Sabbath, He saw a woman who was
bent over and could not stand up straight.
She had been that way for eighteen years. Just think how she felt, how limiting and
frustrating that illness had to be. He
said to her, “Woman, you are loosed from your infirmity.” Then He laid hands on her and she was healed,
was able to stand up straight again, and she glorified God.
There
were those standing around just waiting to criticize the Lord, for He healed
her on the Sabbath day, when no work was to be done. Christ answered these critics by pointing out
that everyone takes care of his donkey and ox on the Sabbath. “So ought not this woman, being a daughter of
Abraham, whom Satan has bound—think of it—for eighteen years, be loosed from
this bond on the Sabbath?” The truth of
His teaching was so clear that those adversaries were put to shame and the
people rejoiced.
We
see in this gospel text a beautiful image of what the Son of God has done for
us by becoming a human being. For every
one of us is like that poor woman bound with an infirmity for eighteen years,
unable to straighten herself up. We see
it so clearly in the captivity of our brothers and sisters in Syria, but it is
evident also in our own lives in different ways. For we live in a world of corruption, illness,
pain, and death. We do not like to think
about it, but there are harsh, impersonal realities from which we simply cannot
isolate ourselves. The horrors of crime and terrorism; disease, addictions, and
other infirmities; cycles of violence, abuse, poverty, and brokenness in
families and in society; and the inevitability of the grave. We do not have to
look far to find ways in which we are all held captive.
Of
course, we all have diseases of soul, of personality, of behavior, and of
relationships that cripple us, that keep us from acting, thinking, and speaking
as “fellow citizens of the saints and members of the household of God.” For we have all fallen short of God’s
purposes for us, as has every generation since Adam and Eve. We are all bent over and crippled in profound
ways in relation to the Lord, our neighbors, and even ourselves.
Joachim
and Anna knew all about long-term struggles and disabilities, for like Abraham
and Sarah they were childless into their old age. But God heard their prayer and gave them
Mary, who would in turn give birth to the Savior who came to liberate us all
from sin and death. Tomorrow is the
feast of St. Anna’s conception of the Theotokos which we celebrate as a
foreshadowing of the coming of the Lord to set us free from the infirmities
that hold us captive and hinder our participation even now in the life of the
Kingdom.
The
entire history of the Hebrews was preparatory for the coming of the Christ, the
Messiah in whom God’s promises are fulfilled and extended to all who have faith
in the Savior, regardless of their family heritage. Christ did not come to privilege one nation
over another, but to fulfill our original calling to be in the image and
likeness of God; and, yes, that means to share in the eternal life of the Holy
Trinity as distinct, unique persons. God
breaks the laws of nature in order to do so, enabling elderly women to conceive
and bear children and a young virgin to become the mother of His Son Who
Himself rises from the dead. Yes, this
is a story of liberation, of breaking bonds, and of transcending the brokenness
and limitations of life in the world in the world as know it.
Fortunately,
the Lord did not treat the woman in today’s reading according to her physical
condition as simply a bundle of disease, even as St. Anna’s fate was not to be
defined by barrenness. Instead, He gave
her back her true identity as a beloved person, a daughter of Abraham. He treated her as a unique, cherished child
of God who was not created for a corrupt, impersonal existence of pain,
disease, and despair, but for blessing, health, and joy. She glorified God for this deliverance, as
did those who saw the miracle.
The
good news of Christmas is that the Lord is born to do the same for us and for
the whole world, to set us free from slavery in all its forms, including the decay,
corruption, and weakness that distort us all.
He comes so that we are no longer defined by our divisions from one
another and can leave our bondage behind. He comes to restore us as living
icons who manifest Christ’s glory and salvation in unique, personal ways. Have you ever noticed that icons portray
people as distinctive persons, that the personality and character of the
Theotokos or St. John the Baptist or St. Luke shines through their icons?
The
same should be true of us. We become not
less ourselves, but more truly ourselves, when we open our lives to Christ’s
holiness and healing. In contrast, sin and
corruption are pretty boring. No matter
how creative we try to be, there are only so many ways to hate, lie, cheat, and
steal. You can only say so much about
murder and adultery. Holiness, on the
other hand, is infinitely beautiful and fascinating. For the more we share in the life of the Holy
Trinity, the more we see that the process of our fulfillment in God is eternal,
that there is no end to it or to Him.
And since our fundamental calling as human beings is to grow in the
likeness of God, we become more truly and freely ourselves—as distinct, unique
persons-- whenever we turn away from slavery to sin and passion in order to
embrace more fully the new life that Christ brings to the world.
As
we continue to prepare for Christmas by prayer, fasting, almsgiving, and
repentance, we should remember that these spiritual disciplines are ways of participating
personally in our Savior’s healing of our sick and weakened humanity. We should
welcome the deliverance that He brings into our lives. And even as we do that, let us remember the
kidnapped bishops, nuns, and orphans of Syria in our prayers. His peace is for them every bit as much as it
is for us. For together with them, we are
by God’s grace “fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of
God.”
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