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.
“And in the synagogue there was a man who had the spirit of an unclean demon, and it shouted with a loud voice, saying, ‘Leave us alone. What have we to do with you, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.’ But Jesus rebuked it, saying, ‘Be quiet and come out of him.’ Then the demon threw him down in their midst and went out of him, having done him no harm.” (Luke 4:33-35)
In the above passage, note that the demon identifies Jesus as the “Holy One of God.” In Psalm 16, it says, “you will not abandon me to Hades and nor let your Holy One see corruption.” “Holy One” is a term for the Messiah.
The demons say, “we know who you are.” But Jesus says, “be quiet.” He stops the demon from confessing him as the Holy One of God. He doesn’t allow him to say this.
St. Cyril of Alexandria says, “He would not permit the unclean demons to confess him. It was not right for them to usurp the glory of the apostolic office or to talk of the mystery of Christ with polluted tongues.”
Knowing who Jesus is is not enough. St. Augustine says, “the devils confessed Christ, but lacking charity, lacking selfless love, it availed nothing. Do not boast of that faith that puts you at the same level with the devils.”
Again in Luke 4:41 we read, “And also demons were coming out of many people shouting and saying, ‘You are the Christ, the Son of God.’ But he rebuked them and would not allow them to talk because they knew he was the Christ.”
St. Athanasius the Great says, “Even when the demons spoke the truth, when they said, ‘You are the Son of God,’ the Lord himself silenced them and forbade them to speak. He did this to keep them from sowing their own wickedness in the midst of the truth. He also wished us to get used to never listening to them, even though they seem to speak the truth.”
There are a couple of very important things to note in this insight from St. Athanasius.
First of all, temptations are very rarely enticements inciting us to do something that is outright evil. Most often they are a distortion of the truth. Jesus does not want the demons to confess him as the Christ, the Son of God, because he knows that they will take that truth and they will distort it in such a way that will confuse the people and take them away from him.
We can see this all the way back to Genesis 3 with the first temptation. The devil says to Eve, “If you eat the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, you will become like God. And God does not want that.” This is a twisting of the truth because God does want us to become like him, but we can only become like him with him by participating in the life that he calls us to. We can’t do it on our own. So he doesn’t even allow the demons to declare the truth because he knows they’re just going to twist the truth up.
The second thing St. Athanasius says is Christ wants the people to get used to never listening to the demons. In our lives, we give agency to what we pay attention to. The things that we pay attention to, we give power to in our lives. So by listening to the demons, even when they are speaking the truth, we’re allowing them access into our hearts and minds, and eventually this will turn on us.
Even though these demons are saying the absolute truth, Jesus is the Christ, is the Son of God, he says, “no, you are not allowed to say that.”
Jesus’ refusal to accept testimony from demons, even when they spoke truth, reveals that the source of the message matters as much as the message itself. In our own spiritual lives, we must learn to discern between authentic revelation that draws us closer to God and deceptive truths that, while factually correct, lead us away from genuine relationship with Christ. The demons knew who Jesus was, but their knowledge was sterile, lacking the love and surrender that transforms mere intellectual assent into saving faith. As we navigate a world full of competing voices claiming spiritual authority, may we cultivate the wisdom to recognize that true knowledge of God only comes from humble hearts that seek Him in truth and love.
What do we mean in the Eastern Orthodox Church when we talk about the fear of God? The following quotes offer important insights into this question. Saint Dorotheos of Gaza wrote: “A godly man fears and keeps to God’s will, not for fear of punishment or to avoid condemnation, but because he has tasted the sweetness of being with God, and fears he may fall away from it. He fears to be turned from it.”
Saint Theodorus the Great also writes: “The greater our longing for God, the greater grows our fear. And the more we hope to attain God, the more we fear him. For as nothing is more blessed than to attain God, so nothing is more terrible than this great fear of losing him.”
The 20th-century elder, Elder Thaddeus of Vitovnica, said: “The fear of God is when you love him, when you truly love him with all your heart, and you strive never to offend or sadden him—not only with your deeds, actions, and words, but also with your thoughts. You try to please him in everything you do or say. That is the fear of God, the fear of doing anything that might sadden or offend our parents.”
And in the book The Mountain of Silence, Kyriakos Markides sums it up like this: “The fear of God of the saints refers to the fear of losing their connection with God, the divine lover, not the fear of a patriarchal despot who rules over the universe with an iron fist.”
We do not have, in the Eastern Orthodox Church, the image of God as Zeus—a powerful, mighty being waiting for people to mess up so he can lower the boom on them. For us, the fear of God arises when we realize, even if just for a moment, the beauty and fulfillment we find in communion with God. Then, we do not want to lose this Divine connection, and we do not want to conduct ourselves in a way that would result in losing it.
It is the fear of losing God, not the fear of God himself.
Whenever I post something like this, at least a couple of people respond with the quote, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” These words are repeated several times in the scriptures. One place we find them is in Proverbs 9:10. And yes, the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom. It can be an effective wake-up call and a good starting point. It is the natural response of a humble heart before the Lord, his saints, and his angels.
But it is not a place that God expects us to be stuck in forever. He does not need us to fear him. And we remember that in the scriptures whenever an angel visits someone and the person is afraid, what is the first thing the angel says? “Don’t be afraid.”
St. Anthony the Great, referencing 1 John 4, said: “I no longer fear God, but I love him, for perfect love casts out fear.”
So, fear can be a starting point for us. It can be what we need to take this whole thing seriously, but it is not where we must remain. It is a beginning, but ultimately everything must be driven by love.
Because frankly, if the reason I come to church, pray, read the Bible, and do all these things is simply because I am afraid of being punished, then I am making it about me. I do not want to get punished, so that is why I am doing these things.
In truth, our motivation should be the love of God and the desire for an intimate fellowship with him unto the ages of ages.
For first-time visitors to an Orthodox Church, one of the most striking aspects of the worship experience is the absence of musical instruments. This isn’t merely a stylistic choice; it’s a deliberate theological expression rooted in the history and beliefs of Eastern Orthodoxy.
The roots of Eastern Orthodoxy trace back to the earliest Christian communities, offering worship practices that have remained consistent for nearly two millennia. Historically, early Christians were influenced by Jewish synagogue practices, which had already moved away from instrumental accompaniment by the first century AD. The Early Christians associated instruments with pagan rituals and secular entertainment, leading them to favor a cappella singing as a way to distance themselves from these practices.
In Eastern Orthodoxy, the human voice is considered the perfect instrument. Created as we are in God’s image, our voices are seen as the purest form of musical expression. When Orthodox Christians sing, they are not merely performing music; they are offering their very breath as prayer. The voice, emerging from within the body, symbolizes prayer rising from the heart.
The term “Orthodox” itself is significant, with “doxa” meaning glory in Greek. This word carries two meanings: to praise and to make clearly known. The human voice is believed to be the most perfect way to offer God glory, as it allows for both praise in words and music and the proclamation of Christ’s Gospel through hymns and chanted prayers.
Orthodox worship aims to create an “icon of sound,” a window into heaven, not only through what is seen but also through what is heard. The unadorned human voice captures the essence of angelic worship. In a world increasingly dominated by electronic and produced sound, there is something refreshingly authentic about spaces where human voices alone fill the air.
Through psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, Orthodox Christians offer praise to God and make His truth — that truth that sets us free — known to all who experience the timeless, angelic beauty of the Orthodox Christian liturgy.
In this message from our Holy Mysteries sermon series, we reflect on the Holy Mystery of Matrimony. In the Orthodox Tradition, a marriage is a sacred offering—brought into the church for God’s blessing, like Jesus blessing the marriage in Cana of Galilee by performing his first miracle there, turning water into wine.
God calls us to a life of faith and holiness, but if we’re being honest with ourselves, we’ll admit that we fail at it quite regualrly. Fortunately, God’s mercy endures forever, and his has given his children a way back to him. Every time we fall, we get back up again with the assurance of God’s forgiveness. __ Want to learn more about Eastern Orthodoxy? → https://fostrorthodoxy.podia.com
St. John Chrysostom is arguably the greatest preacher in Christian history. A central theme in his teaching is that Christians must not settle for the bare minimum. Instead, we are called to give God our very best.
In his homilies on the Gospel of John, he said:
“The life of a Christian should be like a flame, burning with love for God and neighbor.”
Consider what we read in John 3 about God’s gift to us. He “loved the world so that He gave His only-begotten Son”—to be born, to preach, and to die on a cross—“so that those who believe in Him would not perish but have everlasting life.”
If we only do the bare minimum—if our flame burns dimly—we are not giving God enough. That kind of response is unfair, considering all He has done for us. Bare minimum Christianity does not reflect true discipleship. It falls short of honoring the One who gave us everything.
Our faith calls us to grow and to strive for excellence. Christ loved us enough to give His life. We should love enough to leave our comfort zones, especially for those who need our care, compassion, and love.
This is our calling.
We must constantly ask ourselves: “Am I doing enough, or have I become too comfortable?”
God deserves our effort. Christ deserves our excellence.
May each of us become a brightly burning flame—radiating His light and life to the world.
Human beings are innately liturgical creatures, woven with a profound spiritual thread that draws us toward communal worship. We possess a deep-seated yearning within our souls to assemble together for the sacred work of offering prayer and devotion to God with one voice and one heart. This fundamental aspect of our humanity manifests so essentially that when authentic liturgy is absent from our lives, we inevitably seek substitutes to fill this spiritual void. As Ecclesiastes 3:11 reminds us, “He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart.”
Various secular gatherings—rock concerts, political rallies, social protests, and sporting events—all bear the unmistakable hallmarks of liturgical practice. At these events, people congregate in designated spaces for shared purposes and experiences. They unite their voices in songs and chants, perform synchronized physical gestures, and participate in communal rituals that reinforce their collective identity and belonging. The parallels to religious liturgy are striking and reveal our inherent need for sacred community.
This observation isn’t meant to discourage participation in such cultural events. By all means, attend sporting competitions, concerts, and other gatherings that interest you and bring joy to your life. However, it’s crucial to maintain perspective about what these experiences offer. While secular gatherings may indeed celebrate important dimensions of human existence and community, they ultimately provide only a partial reflection of our complete humanity.
There exists only one Liturgy that enables us to participate in the fullness of human life in its most transcendent sense. As Psalm 36:9 beautifully expresses, “For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.” The Divine Liturgy, celebrating our Lord and God and Savior Jesus Christ, connects us directly with the source of all light and life itself. It’s through this sacred Communion that we experience not just an echo of transcendence but genuine participation in the Divine life.
The Divine Liturgy stands apart because it doesn’t merely commemorate human achievement or cultural identity but invites us into relationship with the Creator who fashioned us for communion with Himself. In this sacred assembly, we don’t simply encounter feelings of transcendence but encounter the transcendent One who gives meaning to all other human experiences and gatherings. This liturgical participation fulfills our deepest spiritual longings in ways that even the most meaningful secular gatherings cannot ultimately satisfy.
In the Gospels, Jesus only answers the questions of people who are sincerely asking. To people who come to try to trip him up, people who just want to argue and debate, he doesn’t offer an answer. This is our example for what to do when people want to debate points of faith with us.
Christianity, is not about debating it is about encountering the living Christ and the transformative power of his gospel. And that can only happen with a heart that’s open.
So to those who come to us with questions with an open mind and an open heart. Yes, let’s do our best to offer them a response, or to find somebody who can answer the questions. To those who just want to get into verbal jousting matches, we can save our breath, our time, and our energy.
However, it’s important to remember that even those who seem to be antagonistic may be doing so out of a place of hurt or confusion. Perhaps they’ve had negative experiences with the Church or with people who say they’re Christians, and they’re lashing out as a result. Or maybe they’ve simply never been exposed to a loving and compassionate understanding of the faith. As a result, it’s always be helpful to approach these conversations with empathy and understanding, rather than defensiveness or judgment. We can listen to their concerns, validate their feelings, and offer them a gentle and respectful response.
Of course, there will always be those who are simply looking for a fight. But even in these situations, we can choose to respond with love and grace. This is the most Christ-like response of all. We can pray for them, and we can trust that God will work in their hearts in His own time. In the meantime, we can focus on living out our faith in a way that is both authentic and inviting. By showing others the love of Christ through our words and our deeds, we can draw them closer to Him.
Eastern Orthodoxy 