Sermons & Homilies
Today’s Gospel speaks about the healing of two blind men and of a mute man possessed by a demon. Today’s Epistle teaches us that everything which has been written before us has been written for our own learning. Every case of bodily healing in the Gospel is also an image of how God heals our souls. Physical blindness is an image of spiritual blindness. Physical muteness, of spiritual muteness. Spiritual blindness is the inability of our mind—our mental and spiritual vision—to see God Who is everywhere present, to see others as in the image of God, and to see created things in their Creator.
There is rejoicing when the saints are praised, says the wise Solomon (Prov. 29.2), for whose spirit is not roused when they hear the exploits of the saints. Not only do their august deeds excite the soul, but their feats turn our attention towards Him for whom they labored – Christ, the pleased Master of faithful servants, the King of loyal subjects, the Bridegroom of the chaste Bride; the Judge who crowns the victors of the race.
If there is anything America, or rather the whole world desperately needs right now, it is saints. It is the saints who call down God’s mercy and grace on the world. It is the saints who keep the sun shining, the world turning. The saints truly are the salt of the earth, preserving it from rotting away.
Could it be that all of this was the result of the neglect shown to an Icon of the Mother of God? What historian could ever make such a claim and find his work published, taken seriously by the academic community. And yet it’s just such a conclusion that today’s feast invites us to draw. It forces us to look at the fate of nations not with the eyes of the historian but with the eyes of faith.
