When we give our lives over to Christ, one of the first places He begins working is in the people we meet. It’s easy to say, “Thank you, God, for bringing this person into my life,” when someone is helpful, supportive, and inspiring. But what about those people who test our patience, who annoy us, or who we’d rather avoid? Can we still say, “Thank you, God, for bringing this person into my life”? Every person Christ sends our way is there for a reason—either so we can serve Christ through them, or so we can learn something about ourselves that’s needed for our spiritual healing and growth. “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” (Proverbs 27:17) Whether a person brings us joy or frustration, every encounter is a chance to break free from our egos and selfishness, and to truly live for others. The only thing we need to ask God is for the wisdom to discern why He brought us together. Even those who annoy or persecute us are there to teach us compassion, kindness, and forgiveness. They help us learn to deal with negative emotions without letting bitterness take root. And sometimes, we’re the ones God has sent into someone else’s life to help them grow in patience and love.
Agape is selfless love – a love that seeks nothing for itself and gives everything for the sake of the other. This is the love of Christ, who gave up his own life so that we may live forever.
True selfless love goes beyond seeking recognition for what we have done or expecting gratitude or repayment in return. It is not a tool to leverage favors in the future, nor is it reserved for those who have earned our affection in the past. Instead, genuine selfless love flows freely, reflecting the boundless and unconditional love of God. It means acting because we recognize a divine opportunity to reflect the love of Jesus Christ – a love that calls us to care for others as He has cared for us.
When we embrace this kind of love, our actions and words become a living testimony of Christ’s love. As we show kindness, extend forgiveness, or offer help to others, we open the door for them to encounter Christ’s presence through us. As 1 John 4:19 reminds us, “We love because He first loved us.” This truth underscores the foundation of our lives as followers of Jesus Christ.
To bear the name of Christ is to carry His love into the world. It is to make visible the invisible God by allowing His love to shine through our deeds, even when no one notices or thanks us. In doing so, we fulfill His command to love others as He has loved us. By being ambassadors of his Christ’s this love, we glorify Him and share the hope of salvation with others.
In the creed, we defined the churches Catholic. This comes from the Greek word “katholike,” meaning “concerning the whole.” The church preaches the whole Gospel, to the whole of humanity, throughout the whole span of history.
Preaching the Gospel “as a whole” means that we need to look at the entire scriptures as a single unit. We do not focus on one book, one chapter, one verse. Everything is looked at within the context of the broader message. We interpret everything with a “concern for the whole” story.
Consider, for example, what Saint Paul says to the Christians of Corinth: “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” (I Corinthians 4:14)
Paul clearly identifies himself as the father of the Christians of Corinth. But what about what Christ says in the Gospel of Matthew: “Call no man father?” How do we reconcile Jesus’ teaching in Matthew with the apostle identifying himself as “Father Paul” to the Christians of Corinth?
St Paul does this because he understands that there’s a specific context for the teaching, “Call no man father.” There are times when it is completely appropriate to call our spiritual leaders, “Father.” This is a term that has been used for clergy — beginning with bishops, and later priests — for centuries in the Christian Church.
When we look at the teaching, “Call, no man father,” or any teaching of Christ in the Gospels, we need to interpret it through the wider context of Church life, including the wider context of scriptures. “Call no man father” in Matthew is correctly understood within this broader framework. (Like Paul identifying himself as the Father of the Corinthian Christians, or the multiple times our spiritual forebears are called “father” and “fathers” in the Book of Acts.)
St. Ignatius Brianchaninov said:
“When on a clear fall night I gaze upon the clear heavens, illumined by innumerable stars that send out a single light, then I say to myself: thus are the writings of the holy fathers. When on a summer’s day I gaze upon the wide sea, covered with a multitude of distinct waves, driven by a single wind to a single end, a single pier, then I say to myself: such are the writings of the fathers. When I hear a well-ordered choir, in which different voices sing a single hymn in shimmering harmony, then I say to myself: such are the writings of the fathers.”
In the Orthodox church, it’s not the voice of the soloist that we listen for, it’s the collective voice of the choir — of the saints, of the scriptures, of the liturgical texts, of the sacred art… all of these things proclaiming with one voice, the truth of Christ.
The word “heresy” comes from a Greek word meaning to pick and choose. If you pick and choose versus from the scriptures or quotes from the Fathers, you can string together whatever teaching you want. This is not what we’re interested in. We’re interested in the collective voice, we have a “concern with for whole.” Because when the Church speaks “with one mouth and one heart,” she declares the truth that will set us free.
Eastern Orthodoxy 