A FAITH THAT REVIVES AND REDEEMS

"The Lord is the Light of Our Salvation: In Whom Shall We Be Afraid?"

SERMON FOR THE 24TH SUNDAY AFTER TRINTY


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Beloved in Christ, today’s Scriptures create an interlacing narrative of God’s boundless mercy, divine justice, and the transformative power of faith. From Malachi's proclamation to St. Paul’s exhortation, culminating in the Gospel's dual miracles, where we are struck by God's Living Word breathing life into our mortal existence. This Living Word, present in our Scriptures as a reflection of God’s glory, ultimately revealed as incarnate and eternally risen Christ, draws us up from the shadowy abyss of the chaotic waters, from the valley of the shadow of death, into the unity, harmony, love and purpose of God’s uncreated life. We will ruminate here for a while on these truths, sinking deeper into these readings, asking the holy Fathers to illumine our readings through “Consensus Patrum,” the shining commentaries from our Orthodox heritage, and the beauty found in our near-contemporary English culture, and the riches of our classical Western literature.

Scripture Readings

Old Testament Reading: Malachi 4:1–2

For behold, the day cometh, that shall burn as an oven; and all the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly, shall be stubble: and the day that cometh shall burn them up, saith the LORD of hosts, that it shall leave them neither root nor branch. But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings.

Psalm 98:1–6

O sing unto the Lord a new song; for he hath done marvelous things. His right hand and his holy arm hath gotten him the victory. The Lord hath made known his salvation: his righteousness hath he openly shewed in the sight of the heathen. He hath remembered his mercy and his truth toward the house of Israel: all the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God. Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth: make a loud noise, and rejoice, and sing praise. Sing unto the Lord with the harp; with the harp, and the voice of a psalm. With trumpets and sound of cornet make a joyful noise before the Lord, the King.

Epistle: Colossians 1:9–14

Brethren, we do not cease to pray for you, and to desire that ye might be filled with the knowledge of his will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding; that ye might walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God; strengthened with all might, according to his glorious power, unto all patience and longsuffering with joyfulness; giving thanks unto the Father, which hath made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light: who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son: in whom we have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins.

Gospel: St. Matthew 9:18–26

While Jesus spake these things unto John's disciples, behold, there came a certain ruler, and worshipped him, saying, 'My daughter is even now dead: but come and lay thy hand upon her, and she shall live.' And Jesus arose, and followed him, and so did his disciples. And, behold, a woman, which was diseased with an issue of blood twelve years, came behind him, and touched the hem of his garment: for she said within herself, 'If I may but touch his garment, I shall be whole.' But Jesus turned him about, and when he saw her, he said, 'Daughter, be of good comfort; thy faith hath made thee whole.' And the woman was made whole from that hour. And when Jesus came into the ruler's house, and saw the minstrels and the people making a noise, he said unto them, 'Give place: for the maid is not dead, but sleepeth.' And they laughed him to scorn. But when the people were put forth, he went in, and took her by the hand, and the maid arose. And the fame hereof went abroad into all that land.

The Longing of Israel and the Sun of Righteousness

We begin with the words of the prophet Malachi: “But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings” (Mal. 4:2). This verse is a beacon of hope for a people awaiting deliverance, poised on the edge of judgment and mercy. It speaks of Christ, who dispels the darkness of sin and death. The Sun of Righteousness is not only a metaphor; it is an eschatological promise fulfilled in the Incarnation. St. Athanasius of Alexandria wrote in my weekly-quoted touchstone, “The Word was made man that we might be made divine” (On the Incarnation, 54). Thus, the rising of this Sun is the dawn of the hope of our deification, where humanity is lifted into communion with God through Christ’s redeeming work, not “in name only,” as the followers of Martin Luther believe, seeing the Christian as “snow covered dung,” but in actuality, reflecting the divine and holy life of Christ Himself.

The theme of hope breaking through our despair is echoed in J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Lord of the Rings,” where Samwise Gamgee, standing amidst the shadow and darkness of Mordor, in his final moment, sees a star piercing through the gloom and whispers, “A light when all other lights go out.” Here, the star prefigures the star that stood over Christ’s manger, the star of the Holy Spirit imparting hope and clarity when there is no logical reason for our striving for life. Our persistent hope of divine presence in even the darkest hour, a reflection of the Sun of righteousness that rises with healing. The Psalmist echoes this theme of divine intervention, singing: “O sing unto the Lord a new song; for he hath done marvelous things. His right hand and his holy arm hath gotten him the victory” (Ps. 98:1). This victory, beloved, is not just historical but ongoing. St. Basil the Great exhorts us to see in this psalm a prophetic vision of Christ’s triumph over the powers of darkness (Homily on Psalm 98). The new song is the hymn of salvation sung by every soul who has tasted the sweetness of Christ’s redemption, echoed continuously around the Heavenly Throne, the circle of the Empyrean.

Faith in the Midst of Desperation

Turning to St. Matthew’s Gospel, we encounter two stories that encapsulate faith’s potency and the compassion of Christ. The ruler’s plea, “My daughter is even now dead: but come and lay thy hand upon her, and she shall live” (Matt. 9:18), is an act of profound trust. His words testify to a faith that moves beyond the visible reality of death into the realm where Christ reigns as the Lord of life. St. John Chrysostom remarked that “faith, when it is real, leads to action” (Homily on Matthew 31). The ruler’s request embodies this action, demonstrating that true faith is not passive; it seeks and asks with the assurance that Christ has the power to restore.

Within this narrative, the woman suffering from an issue of blood for twelve long years provides another example: “If I may but touch his garment, I shall be whole” (Matt. 9:21). In her silent desperation, she reaches out, not with doubt but with the certainty that only a touch would suffice. The Eastern Fathers often saw in this act a prefiguration of the Church’s sacraments, particularly Holy Communion, where we approach Christ to receive the healing that transforms us from within. St. Ambrose teaches, “He who touched Christ in faith received not only bodily health but the fullness of salvation” (Exposition on the Gospel of Luke VI.57).

One of the Oldest Icons of Christ, Shows the Curing of a Woman with an Issue of Blood

In Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables, we see a literary reflection of this faith in the character of Fantine, who, despite her despair and suffering, clings to the hope that she may secure a better future for her child. The poignant lines, “Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise,” echo the belief that redemption is possible even in the midst of anguish - a theme that reverberates with today’s Gospel narrative.

The Power of Resurrection and New Creation

As we continue, Christ’s arrival at the ruler’s house provides yet another revelation. “The maid is not dead, but sleepeth” (Matt. 9:24). These words challenge the finality of death and declare the advent of resurrection power. St. Augustine, in his reflections on this miracle, reminds us that in Christ, “death is but a sleep, for He has entered into the grave and broken its bars” (Sermon 64). This assurance is echoed in St. Paul’s words from today’s Epistle: “Giving thanks unto the Father, which hath made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light; who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son” (Col. 1:12–13). Here, the Apostle emphasizes that through Christ’s victory, we have been rescued from the domain of death and brought into a kingdom of eternal life and light.

Charles Dickens captures this resurrection motif in A Tale of Two Cities, where Sydney Carton’s sacrificial act echoes Christ’s triumph over death. Carton’s final words as he goes to his own doom, “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done,” point to the hope that true life is found not in avoiding death but in overcoming it with love and self-giving. Through one person's death, another person has life, giving us an exchange by sacrifice. 

Beloved, these miracles are not relics of history but present realities. The healing touch that restored the woman and the voice that called the girl back to life continue to work within the Body of Christ, the Church. As St. Symeon the New Theologian exhorts, “The One who called Lazarus from the tomb calls out to each of us: ‘Come forth!’” (Hymns of Divine Love). This call demands a response—a faith that reaches beyond the grave, trusting that in Christ, all things are made new. 

The Hem of His Garment: An Image of the Church

Consider the significance of the hem of Christ’s garment, which the woman touched. The Church Fathers viewed this garment as an icon of the Church itself. St. Irenaeus wrote, “The Church, by receiving the word of God, is adorned with the garment of salvation” (Against Heresies IV.20.1). Just as the woman was healed by her faith in touching Christ’s garment, so too are we healed and nourished by the sacraments—the outward signs through which Christ imparts His divine life to us. 

This sacramental reality is the heart of our Western Orthodox identity. The Caroline Divines, like Lancelot Andrewes, upheld this rich understanding, affirming that in the Eucharist, we partake not of symbols alone but of the very Body and Blood of Christ. We are called to approach with the faith of the woman, believing that a touch, a taste, a sip, can convey the grace that heals our wounds and quickens our spirits.

The Call to Faith and Witness

Let us then, as St. Paul enjoins, “walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God” (Col. 1:10). The faith that the woman and the ruler exhibited must be mirrored in our daily walk, where every prayer, act of love, and moment of worship becomes an expression of trust in the One who saves. Here, St. Symeon the New Theologian’s words ring true: “Do not be content with only a partial contact with Christ, but reach out fully, that your entire being might be healed and transfigured” (Hymns of Divine Love). The healing power of Christ is available to each of us, not merely as a historical footnote but as a living truth in the life of the Church. The Eucharist we share, the creeds we confess, and the prayers we offer are our way of touching the hem of His garment.

A Contemplative Conclusion

As we meditate on these stories and lessons, let us take to heart the words of Gerard Manley Hopkins in his poem “God’s Grandeur”:

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

This poem speaks to the enduring hope that, despite the weariness and toil of the world, God’s light continues to break forth. Just as the woman touched the hem of His garment and was healed, so too can we reach out and find restoration, for the Holy Spirit still broods over the world with healing wings.

Let us leave this place today with hearts full of hope, trusting that the Sun of righteousness has indeed arisen, and His light guides us into eternity. Amen.

COLLECT

Almighty and Everliving God, who in Thy boundless mercy dost bring forth light out of darkness and life out of death, grant us, we beseech Thee, a faith as steadfast as that of Thy servants of old, that we, reaching forth to touch the hem of Thy garment, may find healing and grace. Inspire us to walk worthily in the light of Thy countenance, bearing witness to Thy redeeming power. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with Thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen.



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