The Triumph of Meekness - Homily for the Feast of All Saints of North America (2025)

While Orthodoxy has gotten attention lately for its new growth and spike in conversions, the true sign of Orthodoxy taking root here is the increase of her saints. We are blessed this year to add St. Olga of Alaska to our humble synaxis. 

St. Olga is an excellent model for us in our days. Like many of us, she was born into a non-Orthodox family. While her family converted shortly after she was born, at the very least, it can encourage those of us who don’t have deep roots in the faith that this does not prevent such great fruit from appearing in our life.

When her family was asked if she performed any miracles in her life, one member responded, “She was never angry.” That immediately struck me when I heard that. To never be angry truly is a miracle, not only in achieving it, but that it should be noticed. It’s difficult to pay attention to the absence of a negative.

However, there is a virtue that comes with conquering anger—meekness. Meekness means to be unmoved by irritation, unaffected by praise or by insult. Therefore, to be meek is to be solid, to have a rocklike foundation not shaken by the storms of life. To have never gotten angry meant that St. Olga was a solid rock of meekness. We will see it not just in “not being angry” but her whole disposition.

Olga married Nikolai, who initially was not interested in the church, and was unkind. Yet Olga was patient and prayed for him and eventually his character changed. He softened and took an interest in church. Her effect on him was so powerful that eventually he became a reader and was even ordained to the priesthood. It was her prayer, her patience, and the example of her own life that effected change on those around her. 

Let us keep in mind the virtue of meekness as we continue the Apostle’s fast. Every liturgical season, every fast, has its own struggles and temptations. Inevitably, it seems that during the Apostle’s fast our temptation is primarily our brother. Whether it’s our boss who we think is overbearing or negligent, our coworker who is lazy or a busybody or a subordinate who is difficult or careless, conflict arises. 

One of the chief reasons we get irritated, one of the passions that feeds anger is pride. Our egos are wounded when we don’t get our way, when we feel insulted, when we don’t get the recognition we desire. And we tend to lay that blame at the feet of our brothers, of our fathers. If only they would stop doing what they do. If only they would do what we want them to do. Or at least, if only they would let us do what we want, the way we want. Then things would be better.

If pride, if wounded egos fuels so much of our anger, what is the solution? Another American-born saint, Varnava of Indiana, once said, “Pride means an absence of the sense of reality. That is why reality is in fact the best cure for pride”. 

“Reality is the best cure for pride”. I think monastic life is the closest contact one can have with reality in this life. We can’t hide from who we really are amongst our fathers and brothers. They see us not just when we’re well-rested, sated, and in a good mood, but when we’re irritable and tired. They know our work habits and when we cut corners and what we overlook, what we struggle with. It’s painful to have that mirror in front of us in the person of our brother. Our brother-mirror shows us the reality of how deeply rooted our passions are. We don’t like what we see. We’d prefer to break the mirror than to change ourselves. 

Elder Aimilianos tells us that in conflict with our brother, no matter how many times we confess to the person in question or to our spiritual father; how many prostrations we do to make up for our faults, how many tears we shed to overcome our broken relationship with our brother, our relationship with them will not change. It will not change until we learn to think differently about them. That’s the reason why we tend to have the same relational problems throughout our whole life—because unfortunately we take ourselves with us wherever we go. And we take with us our bad habits and disordered and selfish reasonings, our fault-finding, nitpicking, our excuses and self-justifications.

Abba Dorotheos tells us that we don’t have peace with our brothers because we don’t reproach ourselves. But we have to be told this year after year after year because it doesn’t stick. What does it mean to reproach ourselves in the face of conflict? It means taking responsibility for it. To accept fault in the breakdown with our brothers. That even if we think we’re totally innocent, at least acknowledging that had we sincerely prayed, had we sincerely led a Christian life, my brother would be at peace with me now, but he isn’t because of my failures. Even St. Paisios blamed himself when he could not exorcise the demons out of the possessed or healed the sick who came to him. He didn’t blame them, he didn’t think they remained unhealed because perhaps they were living a careless and sinful life that caused demonic possession or perhaps invited illness. Rather, he saw his own weakness and sinfulness as the reason why they left unhealed. If a saint can find fault in his own actions, how much easier it must be for us to do likewise. One of the Desert Fathers, Abba John, tells us that “When we condemn ourselves, we let go of a light burden, but when we justify ourselves, we take up a heavy one”. By putting this into practice, by asking Christ to help us to do this the next time we are in conflict, we will see how true this is.

Let us take the example of the holy Prophet Moses as a model for meekness. In fact, he is only one of two people described as meek in the Old Testament. He led Israel out of Egypt, and God worked mighty signs and wonders through him. Yet the Israelites did not stop complaining to him and about him. They did not stop resisting him and even openly rebelling against him—even his own siblings found fault with him. Yet for all this, what did he do? He prayed with tears for them. When God threatened to wipe our all of Israel for their sins and make a new covenant with Moses, Moses did not relish in the destruction of a hard-hearted and stiff-necked people. He did not delight thinking that finally justice would be done and they’d get what they deserve. No! He earnestly begged God to forgive them their sins. And if God would not do that, Moses was willing to be destroyed along with all of them. He was willing to go to hell for his faithless people, to be blotted out of the book of life. That’s how he dealt with conflict. That’s how he dealt with injustice, poor treatment, and contempt. He begged God on their behalf. Let us learn to do the same. This is the only way to overcome anger. We will not succeed if our goal is only “not to be angry”. We need to actively cultivate meekness and mercy, to pray earnestly for those who do us wrong and fight us.

In closing, I’d like to share one more quote from St. Varnava for us to ponder in the remaining time of the fast:

Half-hearted love is not love. ‘Returning good for good’ is love even less. Good for evil, bread for a stone, forgiveness for an insult, life for death, that is love. Only that is love. And nothing else.

Through the prayers of St. Varnava, St. Olga, and all the saints of North America, may we struggle for meekness and brotherly love. Amen.