Homily for the Sunday of Pascha

"For the disciples rejoiced, having seen the Lord" (John 20:20)

I also rejoice with you, divine disciples of the risen Lord. All the Christ-bearing peoples rejoice with you, having finally beheld the unflickering light of the luminous day of the Resurrection. The threw-blessed faces rejoice in grief, and, surrounding the throne of the King of Hosts, the angels of peace sing to Him a song of victory. Hell itself rejoices below, and all shines from the bright manifestation of the rising Sun of glory, bringing the unending day of life to the sorrowful ancestors. The brightly dressed bride of Christ, the Church, rejoices, and greets the Bridegroom with joy, Who came out of the tomb as from a palace. Golgotha itself changed its appearance: it was a terrible place of a deplorable event, but it became a glorious spectacle of universal merriment. The cross, the spear, the crown of thorns, the cruel instruments of terrible suffering, divinely adorn the triumph of the Divine Conqueror. The sepulchre, the sorrowful abode of former corruption, now appeared as a life-giving palace of incorruption; wounds, the culprits of death, became the sources of immortal life. "For the disciples rejoiced, having seen the Lord." Let us also rejoice, triumphant listeners, and praise the God-given grace of the glorious Resurrection of Christ.

When the gates of paradise were closed, from which man was expelled, the gates of hell were opened, by which death entered the world, entered together with curse and corruption. Like a tyrant, it reigned over the unfortunate human race, which with difficulty and suffering bore a heavy yoke and invariably paid with its own life for the heaviest debt. But as Adam was the first of all men to sin, so he had to die first. And yet, before everyone else and Adam himself, the righteous and innocent Abel died, killed by his envious brother Cain. Was it not just that just as sin began with Adam, so death began from him, and not from Abel? Brethren, every kingdom is stable only when it is based on justice. If justice reigns, and the beginning of the kingdom is firm, and its abiding is eternal. On the contrary, a kingdom is unstable if it is unjust, and very short-lived if it lives by violence. If it begins with injustice, its beginning is shaky, and if it is held together by violence, its end is near. Of course, the unjust is unstable and the violent is unstable. Now look at the lofty work of God's philanthropic providence. God allowed — and the first to die was not Adam, who was the first to sin, which would have been just, but the innocent Abel. Behold, the kingdom of death began with injustice, and therefore its beginning is shaky. Abel was not only the first to die, but in addition to an unnatural, violent death, killed by his brother. Thus the kingdom of death, which began with injustice, attracted violence to its aid, and therefore came to an end. Thus, death reigned in the world, but its kingdom was unjust and violent, and therefore unstable and short-lived. This is the thought of Athanasius the Great in his 61st question and answer. "If Adam had died first, death would have had a firm foundation, for it was the first to carry away the sinner. But since she was the first to receive the unjustly murdered, her kingdom is shaky and weak." From the very beginning it was discovered that death, though a tyrant, still had no free royal power over the human race. From her hands slipped Enoch, taken alive into paradise; Elijah escaped it, ascending to heaven in a fiery chariot. And Elijah delivered the son of the widow of Zarephath from the power of death, and his disciple Elisha the son of the Shunammite woman. In the last days came the incarnate Son of God, the Lord of the living and the dead, the terrible destroyer of death, and revealed to it all its weakness. With a single word he took away from her daughter Jairus, who was already dead, and as if from sleep he raised her to life; he took away the widow's son, who was already being carried on his bed to the tomb, and stirred him up with a single touch of his hand; He took Lazarus from death, whom Hades had already held in chains for four days, and with one cry he plucked him out of corruption; He took away so many bodies of the departed saints, brought from the graves to life, whom hell had already contained for so long. Finally, the Lord deposed the tyrant, killed death, destroyed its kingdom, when the thrice day gloriously rose from the dead. The descendants of Adam, we all, like birds, were in that fatal unfortunate net that death kept everywhere stretched out. Into the same snare the God-Man Jesus gave Himself, accepting voluntary death. But He gave Himself up with His Divine power, broke the net, and after His glorious Resurrection He was the first to soar into heaven and saved us also from the power of death. "The snare is broken, and we are delivered. Our help is in the name of the Lord" (Psalm 123:7-8). We are saved and no longer prisoners of death. We look at it and are no longer afraid of its ferocious appearance. Before the Resurrection of Christ, death was terrible for man. After the Resurrection of Christ, man became terrible for death. Ever since the resurrected Jesus conquered death, it has been boldly despised by Christ's disciples. From among the martyrs, even small children and young virgins laugh at her. This is the gift of the risen Lord, the privilege of the glorious Resurrection. Christ is risen, and death is put to death. Christ is risen, and corruption is removed. Christ has risen, and immortality has shone. Christ is risen, and paradise is opened. "Where art thou, O death, the sting? Where are you, hell, victory?" (1 Cor. 15:55) As mortals we fall, but as immortals we are resurrected. We are imprisoned in a gloomy grave, but even there the blessed light of the Lord's rebellion penetrates, and it gives us life. We wait for death, but we foresee immortal life, the pledge of which was given to us by the Resurrection of the Savior. Christ is risen!

The Most High conqueror of death, the eternal Bridegroom of our souls, the Most Divine Jesus, to Thee my tongue turns, to Thee my spirit matins, to Thee I turn the souls of these longed-for listeners of mine. Where I have sown the seed of Thy Gospel truth, send down the abundant rain of Thy Divine grace, that the fruit of salvation may grow. Accept, O divine Word, my words as a mental sacrifice offered to the glory of Thy holy name and to the salvation of my sinful soul and of this entire congregation. Appear in thought and rejoice us with the light of Thy glorious Resurrection. And even if You find the doors of our heart imprisoned, go inside there, as You passed through the closed doors to Your disciples, breathe in the grace of Your Holy Spirit and Your Divine peace. Tell us again, "Receive the Holy Ghost... peace be unto you" (John 20:22 and 19).

Delivered in the glorious city of Nauplia in the cathedral of the Holy Metropolia in 1714.

Period Two

Homily for the First Week of Lent. On Faith