Professor of rhetoric and homiletics at Holy Apostles College and Seminary in Cromwell, CT, Fr. Sergius is a founding member of the Preachers Institute. In this article, he gives some effective guidelines for sermon preparation in this article on the function of Orthodox Christian preaching.

The sermon that is preached in the context of the Divine Liturgy should lead the hearer on the path of sanctification and theosis. According to Holy Scripture, the way of sanctification and theosis is a journey that begins with the fall of our first parents in the garden, and culminates with the passion, death and resurrection of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

For each one of us, our personal journey follows an identical trajectory: it begins with our personal recognition of our fallen sinful way of life, and by the Grace of God, we turn away from sin, and follow Christ to the Cross, trusting in His Power, and in the hope of His Resurrection. Baptism is the sacramental expression of this journey. It begins with exorcisms and renunciations of Satan; then we are washed clean of our sins in the water of Baptism in which we put on Christ; we are then sealed with the Gift of the Holy Spirit in Chrismation; and finally we partake of the broken body and spilled blood of Christ as a foretaste of the Kingdom of Heaven. Every time we gather as the Church to celebrate the Lord’s Supper, we retrace the fundamental life-giving journey of sanctification and theosis, which is a journey from repentance to salvation. By God’s grace we are called to turn away from sin and self-centered living, and embrace the saving way of the Cross of Jesus Christ, a journey that is made anew every time we partake of Christ’s broken body and spilled blood. This essential message of the Gospel is most perfectly summarized in the preaching of Christ,

“Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.” (Matt 4:17)

This trajectory, or journey, from sin to salvation in Christ, is quite obvious in the traditional Orthodox prayers before communion. As we prepare to receive the Body and Blood of Christ we acknowledge our sins; we confess our commitment to turn away from sins inasmuch as we are able by God’s grace; and we affirm the infinite goodness and mercy of Christ who gives us Himself as spiritual food to nourish and strengthen us in our apostolic work of doing God’s will and being witnesses of the Gospel. This same basic pattern of repentance and salvation is even evident in the prayers after communion; as though the Church is saying,

“Having received the Body and Blood of Christ, please do not forget what this is all about!”

The liturgical tradition of the Church is simply echoing the basic pattern of the way of theosis evident in Holy Scripture. This pattern of repentance and salvation is apparent in the overall narrative structure of the Bible as a whole, which begins with the fall of our first parents, and culminates with the second coming of Christ in the book of Revelation. The same pattern is repeated again and again throughout Scripture: people turn away from God, He is merciful, calls them back, and they are given hope for new life in Him. The saving drama of this “holy narrative” is perhaps most evident in our celebration of Holy Week and Pascha. The Bridegroom comes for his bride—the people of God—who reject Him, betray Him, and hand him over to be tortured and killed. Yet, even in the midst of such horrific blasphemy, the Word of God triumphs in love, and offers forgiveness to the sinners who betrayed him.

Repent for the Kingdom of Heaven is at Hand!

Thus, when we preach in the Divine Liturgy, the basic message of our preaching should be “Repent for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.” However, just because the basic narrative shape of our preaching is defined by Scripture and the Liturgy, does not mean that our preaching is boring, abstract, or irrelevant. Far from it! Even though it has been played out countless times in the lives of countless men and women—known and unknown—the “holy narrative” of the Gospel is always dramatic, concrete and relevant. Consider the stories of the Exodus, the prophet Jonah, and the conversion of St. Paul. The basic plot is essentially the same each time, even though each story takes place in a different generation, with different specific details, involving the lives of different people. The saving narrative of repentance and salvation is always dynamic and engaging.

Thus, by using the basic pattern of a journey from repentance to salvation in our preaching we gain two significant advantages:

1. Our preaching will conform to the essential narrative structure of Scripture, and it will be in accord with the liturgical tradition of the Church.
2. We have a basic template for our crafting our homilies and sermons.

A sermon always needs to “go somewhere.” Even though a preacher may include a bunch of wonderful material in a sermon, it may not hold together and if the hearers lose interest, are confused, or bored by what is being said, the preacher has fundamentally failed in his task of pastoral leadership. Preaching that has a single narrative trajectory is much more likely to maintain the attention of the hearers because it moves from a crisis to a resolution. This does not mean that every sermon is merely a story about a saint, or about the life of Jesus. Rather, preaching leads the hearer on this saving journey. It begins by identifying a real challenge facing the members of the community, and it leads them on a saving journey of repentance, to the Cross, culminating in the Kingdom of Heaven.

To craft a sermon that leads hearers on a journey from repentance to salvation requires that the preacher know where the journey will begin and where it will end. Broadly speaking, this starting point is sin and the intended destination is ever more perfect communion with Christ: the Kingdom of Heaven. However, from week to week, and from community to community, the aspects of sin and hope that are most important will vary considerably. In faith, we confess that God is speaking to us by the grace of the Holy Spirit. Therefore, it is the task of each preacher to discern the Word which God is speaking at any particular time in each particular place. However, this discernment of the Word of God is not made in a vacuum.

The Orthodox liturgical tradition places us in obedience to the Lectionary, so it is the lectionary readings that fundamentally shape and guide our preaching.

The first thing that a preacher should do is to select one reading to serve as the foundation of the sermon. There is a school of thought among preachers which says that the preacher’s task is to discern the unifying theme or themes that link together the lectionary readings, and then preaching is simply an unpacking of these connections. While this is an interesting, and possibly edifying, way to reflect on the lectionary texts, it is not helpful in terms of charting a path from repentance to salvation. In fact, an exposition of the logic that underlies the shape of the lectionary rarely provides any kind of pastoral guidance. While this kind of reflection might make for an interesting lecture, it does not constitute a liturgical sermon. Thus, to make matters as simple as possible, the preacher should always begin by focusing on one reading. This does not mean that the other reading/s are necessarily ignored, because as the sermon is developed, it may be possible to include material from multiple lectionary readings, and indeed, one should always feel free to include as much relevant material from Holy Scripture as possible. However, focusing on one lectionary reading will allow you to better focus on how the Word of God is speaking to you and your community today.

Once you have selected one lectionary reading, you ask two fundamental questions:

• What is the call to repentance in this reading?
• What is the word of hope and salvation in this reading?

Sometimes you will not be able to find a clear answer to one of these questions in the reading. For example, in the so-called parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32), there is no clear word of hope and salvation. Will the older brother ultimately enter into the feast, or will his anger and arrogance keep him out in the cold? This is how parables work, they do not give us clean tidy endings. Rather, they are designed to put the hearer on the hot-seat: asking the hearer to decide,

“Will you stay outside of the Kingdom with your own righteous indignation, or will you enter the Kingdom in humility and rejoice in the repentance of your brother?”

So, if you are preaching on this parable there are a number of answers to the first question, but the second question is not really answered by the reading. This is where you will need to employ your own biblical and theological knowledge. If, for example, the reading is calling us to repent from arrogance, then the implied word of hope and salvation could be that Christ accepts all who embrace humility and forgiveness. Likewise, there might be a reading where the word of hope and salvation is very clear, but the call to repentance is not. Similarly, one would discern what the implied call to repentance is, based on the word of hope and salvation.

Ultimately, the goal is to come up with a call to repentance and a word of salvation that are well matched; a pair that have an obvious and logical connection so that the sermon—just like the prayers before communion—might call us to conversion, lead us out of sin and death, and into a more perfect communion with Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Once you have identified a clear call to repentance, and a word of hope and salvation based on the reading, the next step in the process is to identify how these same dynamics are at work in your life and in the life of the community.

For example, if the lectionary text speaks of the pride of a son who refuses to accept the fact that his father has forgiven his prodigal younger brother, the preacher needs to explore ways that he and members of his community participate in the same kind of destructive behavior. In other words, we may not have prodigal younger brothers who are dramatically welcomed back by our fathers, but all of us are guilty of standing in judgment of others, and believing that our notion of justice is the only valid one. So, if the journey is from pride to humility, then you would need to think of concrete examples of how we—preacher and the community—are tempted to be prideful, and likewise think of concrete examples of how a life of Christian humility allows us to experience the kingdom.

By clearly establishing the call to repentance and the word of hope and salvation, you will establish a definite starting point and an ending point for the sermon. Not only will this allow you to focus and simplify the overall message that you are presenting, but it will also add considerable focus to your homiletic process.

© 2010, admin. All rights reserved.

Our father among the saints, John Maximovitch, was a diocesan bishop of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia (ROCOR) who served widely from China to France to the United States.

Countless miracles have been attributed to this holy bishop, both during his lifetime and since his repose.

And one of the malefactors which were hanging railed on Him, saying, If thou be Christ, save thyself and us. But the other rebuked him, saying, Dost thou not fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss. And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when Thou contest into Thy kingdom. And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with Me in paradise. (Luke 23:39-13)

This Is How the holy Evangelist Luke relates the edifying and moving incident concerning the conversion and the Lord’s pardoning of the thief who hung on the cross next to Him on Golgotha.

How did the thief deserve such mercy? What prompted such a quick and definitive response from the Lord? All the righteous figures of the Old Testament, including Saint John the Baptist, were still shut up in hades. The Lord Himself was preparing to descend into hades, not, of course, to suffer there, but to bring out the prisoners.

The Lord had not yet promised anyone to lead them into the Kingdom of Heaven; even the Apostles were promised to be taken into His mansions only after He had prepared them.

How is it that a thief was granted such mercy before anyone else? Why were the gates of Heaven opened so quickly for him? Let us examine the soul of the thief and the attendant circumstances.

His whole life had been one of theft and crime. But evidently his conscience had not died, and in the depths of his heart something good remained. Tradition even holds that he was that very thief who, during Christ’s flight into Egypt, took pity on the beautiful Baby and forbade his accomplices to kill Him, when they attacked the holy family. Did he perhaps recall the face of that Child when he looked upon the face of the One hanging next to him on the Cross?

Whether or not this actually occurred, when the thief looked upon Christ his conscience was awakened. There he was hanging next to the Righteous One, next to Him Who was

comely in beauty more than the sons of men (Ps. 44:2),

Whose form at that time was ignoble, and inferior to that of the children of men..,

having neither form nor comeliness (Is. 53:2-3).

Gazing upon Him, the thief awoke as it were from a deep sleep. He saw clearly the difference between Him and himself. That One was without doubt a Righteous One, Who forgave even His tormentors and prayed for them to God, Whom He called His Father; while he was the killer of many victims, one who had shed the blood of people who had done him no harm.

Gazing upon the One hanging on the Cross, he saw as in a mirror his moral downfall. All the good concealed within him was awakened and surfaced. He came to a realization of his sins, he understood that it was his own fault that had brought him to this bitter end; he had no one to blame. Like the thief crucified on Christ’s left, he too had been gripped by hatred for the executioners, but this gave way to a feeling of humility and compunction. He felt fear at God’s coming judgment.

Sin became loathsome, dreadful. In his soul he was no longer a thief. There awakened in him feelings of love for mankind, merciful kindness. With his fear over the fate of his soul there was united a revulsion to the outrage being heaped upon the innocent Sufferer.

He had undoubtedly heard about the great Teacher and Wonderworker from Nazareth. What had occurred in Judea and in Galilee was the subject of many conversations and debates throughout the country. Previously, he had paid scant attention to any of this. Now, finding himself together with Him and in the same situation, he began to understand His moral greatness.

Christ’s lack of malice, His all-embracing forgiveness. His prayer, astonished the thief. He understood in his heart that beside him was no ordinary man. To turn to God as to One’s own father, in the hour of death, was possible only for Someone who truly knew Himself to be the Son of God. Not to waver in One’s teaching about love and unconditional forgiveness, to bear the humiliation of men’s slander and malice on the part of those to whom one has done good, was possible only for One who had the most intimate relationship with the source of Love, or Who was that Love.

The thief recalled all the remarkable things he had heard about the One now crucified with him, and a warm feeling of faith was kindled in his heart. Yes, He was without doubt the Son of God, incarnate on earth while existing in uninterrupted communion with His Father; the Son of God, Whom the earth did not receive and Who was returning to Heaven; the Son of God, Who was able and powerful to forgive men their sins! That gave hope that the thief would escape condemnation at the Dread Judgment. If Jesus prayed to His Father for His hangmen,

He would not refuse to do the same for the one crucified with Him. The thief need only turn to Him, Who now shared with him the same bitter suffering, and He would receive him into His blessedness.

True, his turning to Christ with words of love and sympathy would be met with jeers on the part of the angry crowd. To acknowledge Him as a holy man and the Son of God would mean drawing upon himself the attention and anger of the Hebrew elders. Although they could not cause him greater physical agony than he already endured, it would be painful to be surrounded by malice; how much more grievous his sufferings would be when they began to revile him likewise.

But what did he care now about the anger of earthly authorities, about men’s taunts. As painful as it was to be abandoned by men at the threshold of death, it would be still more painful to be abandoned by God. He was nearing God’s judgment, and it was God alone he need fear! In the final moments of life, he had to do whatever was still in his power to gain God’s good will.

Perhaps he could say something to ease His suffering even just a little, perhaps even just one of the blasphemers would be ashamed and stop slandering Him. Christ had promised to give a reward for a cup of water offered in His name; surely He would not leave him without recompense. Let those reviling Christ revile him also! This would tighten his bond with Christ! He was going to share Christ’s lot here; Christ would surely remember him when He came into His glory!

There, amidst the clamor of slander, blasphemy and derision, he began exhorting his companion hanging to the left of Christ to stop slandering Him.

Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly: for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss. And then from his lips came a humble voice: Remember me, O Lord, when Thou comest into Thy kingdom (Luke 23:40-42).

This was the cry of a former thief — now Christ’s new disciple — who came to believe in Christ at a time when His other disciples had abandoned Him.

“A thief blessed Him, while I denied Him” (Sedalion, Tone 5),

Saint Peter lamented afterwards. At that time all the other Apostles likewise doubted the Lord. Even Saint John the Theologian, who had followed inseparably after his Teacher and was standing at the Cross on Golgotha, although he continued to be faithful to his beloved Jesus, even he did not then have complete faith in the Divinity of his Teacher.

It was only after the Resurrection, after entering the empty tomb where lay the napkin and grave clothes which had wrapped Christ’s dead Body, only then did he “see and believe” that Christ had truly risen and was indeed the Son of God.

The Apostles wavered in their faith in Jesus as the Messiah, because they anticipated and desired to see in Him an earthly king, in whose kingdom they could sit at the right and the left hand of the Lord.

The thief understood that the Kingdom of Jesus of Nazareth, despised and given over to a shameful death, was not of this world. And it was precisely this Kingdom that the thief now sought: the gates of earthly life were closing after him; opening before him was eternity. He had settled his accounts with life on earth, and now he thought of life eternal.

And here, at the threshold of eternity, he began to understand the vanity of earthly glory and earthly kingdoms. He recognized that greatness consists in righteousness, and in the righteous, blamelessly tortured Jesus he saw the King of Righteousness. The thief did not ask Him for glory in an earthly kingdom but for the salvation of his soul.

The faith of the thief, born of his esteem for Christ’s moral greatness, proved stronger than the faith of the Apostles, who, although captivated by the loftiness of Christ’s teaching, based their faith to a still greater extent on the signs and wonders He wrought.

Now there was no miraculous deliverance of Christ from His enemies — and the Apostles’ faith was shaken.

But the patience He exhibited, His absolute forgiveness, and the faith that His Heavenly Father heard Him so clearly, indicated Jesus’ righteousness, His moral superiority, that one seeking spiritual and moral rebirth could not be shaken.

And this is precisely what the thief, aware of the depth of his fall, craved. He did not ask to sit at the right or the left hand of Christ in His Kingdom, but, conscious of his unworthiness, he asked in humility simply that he be remembered in His Kingdom, that he be given even the lowest place.

Before everyone he openly confessed the Crucified Christ as Lord, and asked of Him the mercy of forgiveness.

His humble faith in Christ made him a confessor. By his own volition he was even a martyr, for he did not fear to recognize as his Lord the rejected “King of the Jews” — on Whom was concentrated the hatred of the multitude who had gathered in Jerusalem from all corners of the world for the Passover, and who, together with their elders and priests, were blaspheming Christ. The thief would not have feared even to suffer for Him.

Thus, the earnest repentance of the thief gave birth to humility, and together with this turned out to be a solid foundation for a strength of faith which at that time not even Christ’s closest disciples possessed. The converted thief performed a spiritual feat which not one of them was then capable of doing.

Whoever shall confess Me before men, him will I confess also before My Father which is in heaven (Matt. 10:32).

The thief confessed Christ; he confessed Him before a whole multitude who were railing at Him; he confessed Him then when no one else dared, and when even those few disciples and women who remained faithful to Him manifested their love for Him only with their bitter tears.

The thief did what once the three youths in Babylon did, refusing to bow down before the golden idol which Nebuchadnezzar had set up on the plain of Dura and before which

“all nations, tribes and tongues” bowed down (Dan. 3:7).

The thief came to belief in the suffering Lord; confessing Him as “the hidden God,” he came to know Him before anyone else, and the power of His resurrection, and participation in His sufferings,

being made conformable unto His death (Phil. 3:10);

he understood before anyone else what constitutes the Kingdom not of this world; he came to know

what is truth (John 18:36-38).

He was the first to comprehend the nature of Christ’s Kingdom, and therefore he was the first to enter it.

He was the first to see

Jesus Christ and Him crucified (I Cor. 2:2),

the first to preach

Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling block, to the Greeks foolishness, But unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God (I Cor. 1:23-24).

For this reason he was also first to personally experience the power and wisdom of God, the power of Christ’s co-suffering and regenerating love; he was first to hear

“the sound of the power of the Cross, for through it Paradise was opened.” (Fourth Ode, Ascension Canon)

His thorough repentance of his sins and transgressions, his profound humility, his firm faith in the Crucified Lord Jesus Christ Who gave Himself over to suffering, and his confession, made at a time when the whole world was against Christ — these are the strands which wove the crown that adorned the head of the former thief, this is the substance of which the key was forged that opened to him the gates of Paradise!

Many people sin, trusting to repent just before death; they point to the example of the wise thief. But is anyone capable of what he did?

“The Lord pardoned the thief at the final hour so that no one would despair. But it was a single instance, that no one should have immoderate hope in His mercy” (Blessed Augustine).

“Such was his end! What ours will be we do not know — neither do we know by what death we will die: whether it will come suddenly or with some sort of forewarning” (St Theodore Studite, “Lesson on the occasion of a monk’s sudden death”).

Will we then be capable of a moral transformation and rise up spiritually like Christ’s “fellow traveler/’ “who let out a small voice and gained great faith? Will a sudden death not carry us away, deceiving our hope of repentance at the last minute?” (Saint Cyril of Alexandria, “On the Dread Judgment,” printed in The Great Horologion).

For this reason,

“sinner, do not postpone repentance, that your sins not accompany you into the other life and weigh you down with an intolerable burden” (Blessed Augustine, in The Sunflower of Saint John of Tobolsk, Book 4, chap. 5).

May the example of the wise thief prompt us not to postpone repentance but to crucify ourselves with Christ (Gal. 2:19) and more earnestly repent, that we too might experience upon ourselves the mercy of co-suffering. (Prayer of Saint Symeon the New Theologian)

They that are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with its affections and lusts (Gal. 5:24).

Let us be zealous for our speedy and complete inner amendment, wholly giving ourselves over to the will of God and asking of Christ mercy and grace.

“Do Thou, Who alone lovest mankind, grant us the repentance of the thief as we serve Thee with faith, O Christ our God, and cry to Thee: Remember us also in Thy kingdom” (verse on the Beatitudes, Tone 4).

“O Lord, this very day hast Thou vouchsafed the Good Thief Paradise. By the Wood of the Cross do Thou enlighten me also and save me” (Exapostilarion, Matins of Holy Friday).

© 2010, Fr. John A. Peck. All rights reserved.

Our venerable and God-bearing father Jerome was noted as a scholar of Latin at the time when Greek was considered the language of scholarship. He was one of the most learned of the Fathers of the Western Church and is noted as the translator of the holy scriptures into Latin. This translation, the Vulgate, became the official biblical text of the Roman Catholic Church. A critic of secular excesses, he was a strong defender of the Orthodox faith against the heresies of his time.

The Feast of the Epiphany is called by its Greek name epipháneia, which is the Greek expression for our concept of appearance, or manifestation. This, therefore, is the title given to our Lord and Savior’s manifestation on earth.

Even though He had been born of Mary and had already completed thirty years of His life, nevertheless, He was unknown to the world. His identity was revealed at the time when He came to the Jordan to be baptized by John the Baptist, and the voice of the Father was heard thundering from heaven:

This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased (Mt 3:17).

The Father had proclaimed Him by His voice from the heavens, and the Holy Spirit, settling upon His head in the form of a dove, ordained to make Him known by that revelation, lest people mistake anyone else for the Son of God. What is more sublime than His humility, more noble than His belittlement?

He is baptized by His servant and He is named Son by God.

Along the publicans, prostitutes, and sinners, He came for baptism, and He is holier than the one who baptizes.

He is purified by John in the flesh, but He purifies John in the spirit.

The waters that had been wont to cleanse others are now purified by the cleansing of our Lord. The Jordan river that dried up when Joshua led the Israelites into the Land of Promise, now longed to gather together all its waters into one place, if it could, to bathe the body of the Lord.

© 2010, Fr. John A. Peck. All rights reserved.