Category Archives: Sunday Homilies

These robbers did not kill the fallen man completely. They left him half dead. Even fallen, he did not suffer total depravity. There was still some chance for him, though he had no way of saving himself from his terrible predicament. By this man’s disobedience, in fact, sin entered the world, and by sin death. Indeed, death reigned already in his mortal flesh. How shall we describe this poor man’s plight except that he was “alien from the commonwealth of Israel and a stranger from the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world” (Ephesians 2:12)? He had been left half dead, and there was no help for him in this world.

Along came a priest and then a Levite, men representing the Mosaic Law, but they had to pass by the fallen wayfarer, because by the works of the Law is no man justified. The priest and the Levite were hastening to the temple in order to offer repeatedly the same sacrifices that could never take away sins. Indeed, matters were made even worse, because “in those sacrifices there is a reminder of sins every year. For it is not possible that the blood of bulls and goats could take away sins” (Hebrews 10:3–4).

Secondly, a Samaritan, “as he journeyed, came where [the man] was. And when he saw him, he had compassion.” In the fullness of time, that is to say, God sent His Son to be a good neighbour to him who fell among the thieves. This Son, being in the form of God, did not think equality with God a thing to be seized, but He emptied Himself and took the form of a servant. Indeed, this Son became an utter outcast—in short, a Samaritan, a person without respect or social stand- ing. Although He was rich, yet for our sake He became poor, that we through His poverty might become rich.

What did the Samaritan do for the man that fell among thieves? He washed him in the waters of baptism, cleansing his wounds, and into those wounds He poured His grace in the form of anointing oil, the holy chrism, and the Eucharistic wine to prevent infection.

Our Samaritan did not leave beside the road this half-dead victim of the fall among thieves. On the contrary, “he set him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him.” And then he went away. He ascended into heaven and sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty. This Samaritan is also the great High Priest that entered once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us. But even as He went away, He said to the innkeeper, “Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, when I come again, I will repay you.”

And this promise brings us to our third point. Our Samaritan says to the innkeeper, “when I come again.” He does not say, “if I come again,” but “when I come again.” There is no “if” about the return of this Samaritan. This same Samaritan, who is taken up from us into heaven, shall so come in like manner as we have seen Him go into heaven. We solemnly confess, then, that He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and unto them that look for Him shall He appear the second time, apart from sin unto salvation.

All of history is given significance by the two visits of the Samaritan. Only those who abide in the inn awaiting His return really know the meaning of history. The inn is the house of history, the Church where the innkeeper cares for the Samaritan’s friends.

This parable does not describe that return of the Samaritan. It says simply “when I return.” The parable leaves that return in the future. The story terminates in the place where the Samaritan would have his friends stay—at the inn. It is imperative for their souls’ health that they remain within this inn, to which our Samaritan has sworn to return. In this inn His friends pass all their days as in eagerness they await His sworn return.

~ Fr. Patrick Reardon

Homily for the 7th Sunday of Luke in the Orthodox Church Luke 8:41-56

Even in a small parish, it is not hard to see that people are different from one another in many ways. We have different interests, personal backgrounds, and opinions on all kinds of things. We do not all look or dress alike. But what we have in common as Orthodox Christians is far more profound than any of that. Our salvation is not in any conventional human characteristic or endeavour, but in the healing mercy of Jesus Christ.

In last Sunday’s gospel passage, two very different people approached Him in humble faith and received new life as a result. Jairus was a ruler of the synagogue, an upstanding man in the Jewish community. We do not know the name of the other person, but she had little in common with Jairus. She was a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years, and had spent all her money on treatments that did not help her. She was not only poor, but also considered unclean because of the flow of blood. As a result, she would have been alone, for anyone who had physical contact with her would also become unclean. She could not even enter the Temple or have a normal social life.

“And when He came near the gate of the city, behold, a dead man was being carried out, the only son of his mother; and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the city was with her. When the Lord saw her He had compassion on her and said to her, “Do not weep” (vs.12-13).

These few words, “Do not weep”, encompass the whole purpose of Christ’s coming to the world. Today’s moving gospel reading from Luke 7:11-17 reminds us that Jesus came to wipe away our tears, to soften our pain, and to lighten the burden of life. One can only imagine how painful must have been the grief of the widow on her way to the cemetery to bury her only child – a son. St. Luke tells us that a “large crowd from the city was with her”, but no matter how many people around her, she was now alone and aware only of her pain and grief. In the beautiful city of Nain in the region of Galilee, all she could see was two graves – that of her husband and now that of her only son. Now we might hastily think that this is simply the tragic story of one woman. But isn’t it really everyone’s story? Life can be beautiful for a while, but inevitably the day comes when it is no longer so. There is suffering; there is trouble; there is war; there is death. The result of all this is grief – an utterly painful experience that all of us must at some point in life come to terms with.