Living in this world, we seek paths that lead us to eternal life. The Lord says, I am the Way (cf. John 14:6), I am the Light of the world (John 8:12), and the light shines in the darkness (John 1:5). Surely, each of us has experienced that sense of inspiration when we first came to faith. Everything becomes brighter, cleaner — because God dwells in you, shielding you from all filth and falsehood. You perceive what truly matters without being distracted, for this encounter with God has shaken you to your core. That joy has revealed the meaning of life to you. Until then, you felt as though you were suffocating here on earth, where everything seems the same — always the same menu, the same laws, one ruler following another, each striving for power, each wanting to outdo the other. People are constantly busy choosing something or someone. Meanwhile, we cast our vote for Christ. We do not vote with manifestos or ballots; we vote with our very lives.
Yet how difficult it is to declare “I am with Christ” when everything around you is falling apart, when you suffer, when no one understands you, and you cannot comprehend what is happening in this world — when it seems that madness has taken over.
Most people gauge their spiritual state by how they feel at a given moment, which is quite naïve. We cannot rely on our own judgments, for sin also lives within us. When we receive Holy Communion, it is not meant to make the soul suddenly soar, to produce perfect calm or to make all problems vanish. On the contrary, Communion comes to burn away all that is perishable within us, to burn away the “old self” that tragically dictates our manner of living, deceiving us into losing sight of right and wrong.
Father Sophrony (Sakharov) said that in this world it is impossible to live in a truly Christian way; one can only die to this world as a Christian. Yet we still want to live here and now, and God grants us that possibility, letting us see the blue sky and feel the warming sun. Still, no matter how pleasant life is, it will one day end. We must therefore be tempered for what lies ahead. If you are suffering today, feeling as though your prayers remain unanswered — do not trust those feelings, do not trust the offense or despondency that creeps in when you do not see a visible outcome. There is a result, but the Lord did not come to guarantee our present comfort; He came so that we might conquer death. He wants us to participate in our own resurrection.
This Sunday is dedicated to the great ascetic St John Climacus. The spiritual life is indeed a ladder to heaven. We climb, slip, and stumble, then rise and fall again. Even so, we must stand up once more. Saints who devoted their entire lives to discerning spiritual laws and battling sin have left us a treasury of writings for our edification. Yet we must be sensible. Someone coming straight from secular life and reading profound ascetical works might miss the most crucial point of Orthodox asceticism—namely, learning humility, recognizing our weakness, and inviting God into our life. There is no need to amaze others with our feats and spiritual gifts. Christ expresses it so simply in the Gospel: ‘Learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls’ (cf. Matthew 11:29).
A Sermon by Archpriest Andrey Lemeshonok on the Sunday of St John Climacus
