Homily for the Sunday of All Saints
By Metropolitan Chrysostomos III of Mani
By Metropolitan Chrysostomos III of Mani
Today is the Sunday of All Saints! After the Lord's Feast of Pentecost, All the Saints come before us as vessels of Grace, as fruits of the All-Holy Spirit. All Saints! The known and the unknown. Unknown, of course, to us, but known to God — known by God. All the Saints stand before us. We venerate them, honor them, and glorify them today, on the Sunday of All Saints.
And these Saints are from the earliest centuries, from that Protomartyr Saint Stephen, all the way to the Saints of our own century, to Saint Luke the Surgeon, Archbishop of Crimea and Simferopol. Saints of every age, of every level of education; holy men and women who received the titles Apostles, Missionaries, Fathers, Teachers, Martyrs, New Martyrs, Venerables, and Confessors. A “cloud of witnesses,” as the Apostle Paul tells us. And as we hear so beautifully in the hymn, we ought to cry out and say: “Rejoice, assembly of the Prophets!... Rejoice, choir of the Apostles!... Rejoice, multitude of the Martyrs!... Rejoice, swarm of the Fathers!” All the Saints stand before us.
Yet, my brethren, have we ever stopped to think, when we stand before the icon of a Saint, what thoughts may perhaps pass through our minds? Perhaps some, when standing before a Saint, before the icon of a Saint, simply come and go, passing by either with contempt or with indifference. Others stand before the icon and think about the iconography itself, that is, its artistic style —w hether it is Byzantine or Western. Perhaps they think about the century in which the icon was painted. They may see only the outward appearance and never proceed to the depth of its meaning.
And yet, the presence of a Saint, the presence of an icon, conceals something deeper. First of all, the presence of a Saint comes and judges every person. The presence of a Saint exposes our sinfulness; it examines our deeds; it comes and cuts into our very being and lays open our inner world. It comes and reminds us of our sins, our passions, all those things which the Apostle Paul notes in his Epistles to the Galatians and the Corinthians — those passions of the flesh and all the other things that prevent a person from inheriting the Kingdom of Heaven. The Saints come and judge us; they examine the three powers of our soul — the rational, the incensive, and the appetitive. They examine our actions.
But the presence of the Saints does not remain only at the level of judgment. At the same time, the presence of the Saints consoles mankind. The Saints console us. For as we look upon and enter into the life of each Saint, we ourselves begin to acquire those characteristics and virtues. We strive to struggle and to attain the holiness possessed by that person, that holy figure. The presence of the Saints sweetens and comforts our lives amid pain, trials, and afflictions, whether spiritual or physical. Near a Saint you find peace. For although the Saint judges you, he judges you with love. This is why the Saints intercede for us; this is why we stand together with the Saints at the Proskomede, there upon the holy Diskos. The Saints intercede on our behalf; they pray for us; they hear our supplications. They come alongside us as helpers and advocates. And through Jesus Christ they perform miracles for our salvation. Truly, the Saints console us and bring us peace.
But there is also a third point: the presence of the Saints inspires our lives. Their marvelous writings, their wisdom, the texts composed by the God-bearing Fathers and the Saints, but also their very lives, inspire mankind and the faithful. They inspire us to good works, which they themselves first accomplished, to missionary labors and to works of charity and beneficence.
The presence of the Saints judges, consoles, and inspires. And this is because the presence of every Saint is a radiance of the Holy Spirit. For they were the first to love Christ; for Christ they suffered martyrdom; and for the glory of Christ they offered their very being, their ascetic labors, and their lives. The Name of Christ upon the lips of every Saint was nectar; in their mouths it was honey; and in their souls it was ambrosia. It was the Name “which is above every name” (Philippians 2:9), the Name of the Lord.
My brethren, when you stand before the icon of a Saint, you ought to pause, to reflect, and not simply pass by. Then you will learn what a Saint is and what he expresses — that reality which is called holiness, holiness of life. And when you stand, reflect, and learn, then you will venerate. And when you venerate, you come to understand that the workshop of holiness — the place where that holiness was acquired by one who was a human being just like us — is the Church. It is the Church that transforms man, every sinner, no matter how sinful he may be, and brings him to amendment of life and to holiness of life.
We live in an age of moral alienation, in an age of lawlessness and impiety, often of depravity and corruption of morals. Yet in this age of inhumanity we should know that there always remains the host of the Saints. The Saints exist — the known and the unknown. Perhaps the unknown Saints are even more numerous, those Saints who surround us and who are, in the end, the salt of society and of the world. Therefore we too have always been called to holiness. Is this not the divine invitation, repeated unceasingly throughout the ages to all mankind? What invitation? “Be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy.” Become holy yourselves; be holy. This is the divine invitation addressed to each one of us.
Let us not think, therefore, that holiness belongs only to the past or that it is some unattainable ideal. That is a mistake. For we believe not in the words of a false and imaginary god, but in the true and living God. And all of us are called to holiness.
My brethren, the Saints have passed into eternity. The great question is this: what will become of us? Shall we desire holiness for the sake of eternity? Let each one of us reflect upon this great question.
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
