The Triumph of True-Worship and Defeat of Iconoclasm (and why it matters)
A Homily on the First Sunday of Lent: the Triumph of Orthodoxy
Note about length of services. This is traditionally a time of catechetical instruction, so sermons may be longer than usual. Your priest will do what he can to ensure that this is not time wasted. Everyone should rest assured that the Holy Spirit will fill that which is lacking – in your ears if not in his voice.
Because it is Great Lent, we are celebrating the Liturgy of St. Basil. It contains longer Eucharistic Prayers, so this will lengthen the service, too. If your legs are not strong enough for longer services, then you can do something that your ancestors never would have deigned to consider: sit down during the Liturgy. If it is concentration that is lacking: practice makes perfect. Until then, do your best. Some elders suggest doing the Jesus Prayer when your mind wanders from our mutual praise and thanksgiving. This is certainly better than counting candles or water spots.
And for those of you who are patient and strong enough to remain focused for the entire service, please pray for the rest of us. Regardless, it is a blessing for us to gather to worship and bless the Lord together.
This Sunday, we celebrated the triumph of Orthodoxy over Iconoclasm. I want to explain why this victory matters.
Introduction
For those who take it seriously, Great Lent always brings special challenges. If you have been paying attention to that which comes into and out of your mouth (and even more importantly that which comes into and out of your heart; see St. Matthew 15: 1-20; 23:27-28), then you know that despite your best efforts, you have failed to live up to the standard of the Fast. This is fitting. The point (of the Fast) is not to become perfect through your own labors (or “ascesis”) – no one, not the greatest Stoic philosopher or the most wizened guru – can become a perfect expression of self-discipline and love through their own efforts.
Even after a week, I hazard to guess that few of us managed to keep the letter of the fast (the rule is to have just a bit of simple food and drink after services on Wednesday and Friday… and nothing else) and that ALL of us have done something spiritually damaging to us and those around us. In other words, despite our most serious attempt, after having removed as many distractions as possible, after having increased the number and intensity of our prayers, and after having intentionally tried to be humble, patient, and charitable to everyone who has crossed our paths; we have sinned.
And this is a big deal. Because it’s not really about food or prostrations. God did not give us rules so that He could find things to punish us for. That is not what sin is. Sin is everything that creates or perpetuates the division between all of us, and between us and God. To put it simply, sin is a way to describe our impediments to perfect love.
Fasting (and all the rigors of Great Lent) is designed to build up our discernment (so that we can better sense the purposes of Love in our lives); our self-control (so that having sensed the purposes of Love in our lives, we can actually pursue them); and a deeper appreciation of our own spiritual limitations (because we cannot do this on our own). Like I said earlier – during Lent we devote extra attention to living a Christian life. And no matter how hard we try, we fail.
And because we fail – because we sin – we remain separated from the love and fellowship we were designed to share with one another and with God. Because we sin, the longing that we feel for something better intensifies and remains unfulfilled. Because we sin, we live alone even in the midst of family and friends and in the presence of the God who created us for fellowship with Him.
Sin makes us miserable. We need to overcome it, but we can’t do it on our own. This brings be to my first point (of three): theology matters.
One: Theology matters.
Unhealthy choices, unhealthy habits, and unhealthy lifestyles ruin our lives. They make us and everyone around us miserable. We want to do better, but how? Theology matters because the answer to this question matters. If you answer it incorrectly, then you are still going to be miserable (but it might be worse, because you will have expected things to get better!). The bookstores, internet, yellow pages, and store aisles are full of things offering to alleviate our suffering. Some are useful, some are absolutely harmful, and many are just a waste of time. There is no “peer review” of such things; no government bureaucracy policing the quality of spiritual products (thank God!); and the combination of market demand and slick presentations means that charlatans get rich selling nonsense and that people continue to suffer.
This is because, while there are exercises – such as fasting and prayer – that can help, there is only one thing that can bring lasting joy to your life, only one thing that can restore your longed for fellowship with the people around you, and only one thing that can allow you to enjoy the loving embrace of God. That one thing is a personal relationship with the God-man Jesus Christ. Because He is the mechanism that removes sin, and it is our relationship with Him that restores our love for one another, God, and all of creation. Any solution to our real problems must have this Truth as its foundation. This is why theology matters and this is why icons matter.
Two: Icons matter.
Without Jesus Christ, God would remain completely beyond us. Without Jesus Christ, God’s perfection and love would remain an unrequited longing. But there is a Christ, so we can know God and we can experience his perfection and love. There are plenty of people who do not understand, believe, or know this, and for this reason, they do not understand icons. God is unknowable – He cannot be described by words or paint. But in Jesus Christ, God became man. And we can describe his actions in words, and we can write his image on icons.
To deny this possibility is to deny God’s incarnation. And to deny the power of the written Word – either in Scripture or on wood – is to deny the deity of Christ. We affirm the Incarnation – we affirm that God took flesh; we affirm it and we praise it; and we cry out in Thanksgiving that God has made it so. Affirming icons affirms the possibility of our perfection. Rejecting them embraces an eternity of unsatisfied longing and despair. Icons proclaim the Mystery of an Unknowable God – continuously revealed through Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit. Who wouldn’t want that? Which brings me to my final and concluding point.
Three: Embrace Christ – and Celebrate His Icon
Have you tried to fix yourself? Have you tried to fix your relationships with your family and friends? Have you tried to love your enemy? Have you tried to live a life that is spiritually perfect? Have you tried these things and failed? Do you still long for something better – an end to disappointments and bitterness?
Stop trying to do it on your own. Stop trying every new product or guru that promises a simple fix. Admit your imperfection and accept the source of perfection into your heart and into your life. As the source of perfection, He will heal and perfect you; He will guide you to greener pastures. Then, having accepted Him, celebrate this power He has in your life and in the salvation of this creation. Do this with icons. So celebrate the Holy Icons. Celebrate God’s condescension. Venerate His Holy icon and the icons of all in whom He shined so bright.
Reject sin, accept God into your heart, and celebrate a life of joy and love. This is possible through Jesus Christ, and this is the foundation of all Orthodox teaching and worship. This is the victory of Orthodoxy we celebrate this Sunday.
