Homily on Forgiveness Sunday #
by Metropolitan Korniliy (Titov)
“The time is at hand, the beginning of spiritual struggles”—these words, brothers and sisters, we hear on the eve of the holy Great Fast. The holy Apostle Paul, in the Epistle to the Romans read today, writes: “The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light.” Standing at the threshold of the Great Fast, the Church calls us with spiritual joy to embark on the path from the darkness of sin to the light of renewal and purification of our soul.
Brethren, let us examine ourselves carefully, let us thoroughly scrutinize our soul—are there not in it “works of darkness”? That is, hardness of heart or impenitence, unbelief or superstition, sloth or avarice—all those deeds that shun the light of exposure, the light of God, the light of our conscience. The Apostle Paul exhorts us to “cast off” these deeds and to do them no more.
With the coming of the bright days of the Fast, we are called to renew our soul, to be reconciled with our neighbors, so that we may worthily and joyfully greet the radiant Resurrection of Christ.
Last Sunday, the Holy Church reminded us of the Dread Judgment of Christ, that our souls might be filled with trembling and horror at the sins we have committed and be brought to repentance. On this present Sunday, we recall the fall of our forefather Adam and all the calamities that followed for us, his descendants. We lament as our common misfortune that day and hour when the human race stood before God as a transgressor of His commandment, provoking His wrath by its intemperance.
Let us also remember, brethren, that day and hour when, by God’s righteous judgment, mankind was condemned to death and corruption, cast out of paradise, and sent into this vale of tears, where we are doomed to dwell in sorrow and sighing, in the sweat of our face and in pain. Our forefather Adam, banished from paradise, sat outside its gates, weeping for nearly nine hundred years, remembering the lost “most glorious beauty” of the image of God. This punishment he bore for committing but a single sin of disobedience. How then must we weep and repent, recalling the multitude of our sins, by which we have angered God through our intemperance and impiety? “O merciful Lord, have mercy upon me, who have fallen!"—this was the prayer that came forth with weeping from the broken and humbled heart of Adam.
Our earthly life is full of sorrows. With cries and tears we enter this world, as if foreseeing the griefs, illnesses, and losses that await us—hatred and slander. All this and much more the Lord sends us for the disobedience of our forefather Adam, in place of the lost blessedness of paradise.
In these days, during the divine services, we hear the touching, sorrowful song “By the rivers of Babylon,” the song of the Israelites, lamenting their lost homeland while in Babylonian captivity. This chant is meant to awaken in us a similar lament for our lost paradise. We too are in a heavy captivity—the captivity of moral fall and estrangement from the Lord. And there is no way to return to our homeland and be freed from this bondage except through abundant and sincere tears of repentance. Let us utterly exhaust our sinful inclinations and destructive passions, dashing “the babes” of Babylonian fornication and impurity against the rock of faith and temperance.
The remembrance of lost Jerusalem strengthened the spirit of the Israelites amid the misfortunes and tribulations of captivity, urging them to earn God’s mercy and return to their homeland. So too, brethren, let us preserve the Orthodox faith of our fathers and piety amidst unbelief and impiety, let us love our heavenly homeland, and let us unceasingly remember, throughout our sinful captivity on earth, our true country—the heavenly Jerusalem, where there is neither suffering, nor sorrow, nor sighing, but only joy and eternal life with the Lord.
As we approach repentance, let us beseech the Lord: “Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me! Do not cast me away from Thy face, O wretched one that I am; open unto me the doors of repentance and of Thy mercy; revive me, who am slain by transgressions and decayed in iniquities!” But are these doors so tightly shut that we ourselves cannot open them? Indeed, at times they do become heavy and difficult to open. It is sometimes very hard for us to resolve to repent of our sins—it is shameful to recall them, painful to weep over them with tears that cleanse away transgressions. It is difficult to come to confession, difficult to repent with all our soul. And so the doors of repentance remain shut—because, like all doors, if they are not opened for a long time, if one does not pass through them often, they rust and become hard to move. So it is with the doors of repentance: if one does not repent of sins for a long time, if one neglects confession, then it will be hard to compel oneself to go, difficult to repent. Everything is good when done in its proper time. A stain on a garment, if not washed out soon, will not easily come out; a garden, if left untended for too long, will become overgrown with weeds and will take much effort to clear; an illness, if it becomes chronic, is difficult to cure. Therefore, let us not allow the disease of our soul to fester, let us not delay our repentance. Let us strive in this coming fast, with contrition for our sins, with tears and sorrow of soul, to obtain from the Lord the forgiveness and remission of our iniquities. “Open unto us the doors of repentance, O Giver of Life!”
Beloved brothers and sisters! Today is called Forgiveness Sunday because there exists a pious Orthodox custom of asking one another for forgiveness before the beginning of the Fast. This custom entered into the life of the Church according to the word of the Savior, who commanded us in the Gospel—read today at the Divine Liturgy—to forgive one another’s trespasses, if we wish that our Heavenly Father might also forgive us, whom we grieve countless times with our sins. Let us recall the words of the Gospel: “For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: but if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” (Matt. 6:14)
The Lord speaks plainly: if you are angry with someone, if you hold a grudge against anyone and do not seek their forgiveness, then the Lord will not forgive you either. Not because He is vengeful, but because your heart is incapable of forgiving and, therefore, cannot receive the grace of God, which grants us forgiveness. As long as there is malice in the heart, the grace of God cannot enter, and so we cannot be cleansed from sin. And this cleansing from sin—this is the forgiveness of God!
How difficult it can be sometimes to say to the one who has offended us: “Forgive me for the sake of Christ,” when we have heard an offensive or harsh word that wounds us. How much we want to retaliate with a harsh word, to repay insult with insult! With stubborn persistence, we sometimes guard and nurture a grudge within ourselves, despite all its bitterness and the suffering it brings to the soul. Holding onto resentment in our hearts, we attempt to repay evil for evil, not realizing that this will only lead others to seek vengeance against us as well. And then we will again burn with the desire for revenge, and so the cycle continues endlessly…
In our resentment, we attempt to restore “justice” and pass judgment upon our offender ourselves. But this is a lack of trust in God, in the Judge who sees all, knows all, and renders to each according to his deeds. The Apostle says: “Who art thou that judgest another man’s servant? To his own master he standeth or falleth. Yea, he shall be holden up: for God is able to make him stand.” (Rom. 14:4) Do not judge your offender, who is a servant of Another—it is not your servant, but God’s. Watch over yourself, and do not judge others, for they are not yours but God’s, and the Lord Himself knows how to direct each one. The Apostle Paul exhorts us: “Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” (Rom. 12:19) We must believe that justice will triumph. And if the Lord does not immediately punish our offender, perhaps He is giving him time to come to his senses.
We are all sinners, and thus not only may the Heavenly Judge condemn our offender, but He may also judge us, for we too have likely wronged others and have not sought reconciliation. The Lord, the Advocate of all that is good, calls us to say with all our heart: “Forgive me for the sake of Christ,” and then we will rejoice, for this short phrase will heal the wound of offense. You will see that your enemy will be shamed by your magnanimity, disarmed, and will even desire to repay you with forgiveness, though perhaps he is not yet ready to do so. “What shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits toward me?” (Ps. 115:12), says the prophet David.
Tomorrow we enter the Great Fast, during which we can cast off the heavy burden of our sins. The Lord teaches that in order for our sins to be forgiven, we must first learn to forgive others. He requires us to forget offenses, to show kindness, and to love both those who trouble us in small matters and those who do so in great ones.
“Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Till seven times?"—asks the Apostle Peter. To this, Christ answers: “I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven,” (Matt. 18:21–22) that is, practically without end. Christ Himself, when He was being crucified, as nails were driven into His hands and feet, prayed for His executioners: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34) And the first martyr, the archdeacon Stephen, as he was being stoned to death, prayed: “Lord, lay not this sin to their charge.” (Acts 7:60)
The sufferer for the faith, Archpriest Avvakum, after enduring many persecutions and tortures, wrote with great magnanimity: “The people themselves are good toward me—it is the evil one who torments them.” Let us recall how this holy martyr was able to forgive. In his Life, he recounts how the voivode stirred up a “tempest,” “becoming enraged, he rushed into my house, beat me, and even bit off my fingers with his teeth, like a dog.” Later, the voivode attacked him with a weapon as he was going to church, intending to shoot him, but the pistol misfired. Avvakum then writes: “I, continuing on my way, prayed to God, blessed him with my one remaining hand, and bowed to him. He cursed at me, and I said to him: ‘May grace be upon thy lips, Ivan Rodionovich.’” Afterward, the voivode seized his house, beat him, plundered everything he had, and did not even leave him bread for the journey. In his Supplication, written to the tsar while imprisoned in Pustozersk, buried in a frozen earthen pit “as if in a grave,” he wrote: “And the more thou dost afflict and torment us, the more we love thee, O tsar, and pray to God for thee and for all who curse us, saying: ‘Save, O Lord, and bring them to Thy truth.’” Here is an image of true humility and forgiveness: the tsar casts him into an icy pit, then sends him to the stake, and yet Avvakum writes to him: “The more thou dost torment us, the more we love thee and pray for thee.”
In their ability to forgive those who hated and persecuted them, the saints fulfilled the command of the Gospel: “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you.” (Matt. 5:44) And so, as we enter the Great Fast, the first thing we must do is forgive: forgive all who have wronged us, forgive with all our heart, forget all offenses and debts, lest the first prayer of every Christian—“And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors”—become an accusation against us at the Dread Judgment.
Now let us turn to the next teaching in today’s Gospel. The Lord instructs us:
“When ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face; that thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret: and thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly.” (Matt. 6:16–18)
These words of the Gospel also prepare us for the fast. Both mutual forgiveness and fasting without ostentation help us cultivate humility and strengthen our will in the struggle against sin.
The Lord teaches us that fasting must be done in secret, before God, for His sake, and not for men. When we fast in secret from others, we undertake a visible labor before God. Hidden fasting preserves us from vainglory, which can taint any good deed. It is not by chance that the saints lamented even their righteous acts, fearing that they might exalt them above others. Any spiritual labor, any good work, when performed for show, brings not benefit but harm to the soul.
The lives of the holy ascetics recount the following incident. Some travelers once arrived at a monastery and sat down for the common meal. Knowing that guests were coming, the brethren had prepared boiled vegetables. One of the visitors said: “We will not eat this—we eat only uncooked food.” So they brought him something else. When the meal was over, an elder said to the guest who had refused the meal: “It would have been better for thee to eat raw meat than to say such a thing.” The elder spoke thus because the visitor had put his ascetic practice on display and offended the brethren by his refusal, thus negating the value of his fasting.
When we judge our brother for his measure of fasting, exalting ourselves over him, we forget that we can see only external actions, not the inner state of his soul. It may be that his prayer of repentance is far more pleasing to God than our own. Of course, these words do not justify those who neglect the fasts, but we must be lenient toward our neighbor and strict with ourselves. We may need to show patience toward those who have only recently come to the Church, those who have spent most of their lives without fasting or prayer. For them, strict fasting is often unbearable, as they are held captive by long-standing habits and a misguided concern for their health. Such people should not be condemned but rather supported by personal example and words of edification, encouraging them: You now live in the hope of God’s help, in the expectation of the bright and eternal life to come; you have voluntarily turned away from the empty and unreliable joys and successes of the world. We, as Christians, have God Himself as our Father, and in keeping the fasts, we shall be obedient children to Him, who raises us through labor and abstinence—strictly, yet mercifully. Therefore, I urge you to approach the fast courageously: both the elderly and the young, the weak and the strong, and especially those who bear heavy sins and desire to repent of them.
Fasting is not only abstinence from non-Lenten foods but also temperance in the consumption of Lenten foods, for otherwise, it becomes a mockery of the fast—when satiety from meat and dairy is merely replaced with gluttony on other dishes, even if they are Lenten. Such excess likewise leads to sin, strengthening the passions of the flesh.
It is especially important to say that during the fast, alcoholic beverages must be completely avoided. Though they may be made from Lenten ingredients, wine enflames the passions and leads to the sin of fornication, which is a violation of the fast. True fasting is abstinence not only from coarse sensuality but also from disordered thoughts and reckless actions, which bring us into turmoil, lead us to break divine commandments, and ultimately drive us into sin.
Fasting teaches us self-restraint, beginning with the simplest thing—food. Even this small step, however, is a step toward obedience and humility. Restraint in food strengthens our will, and this effort then extends to other areas of life. For instance, when we feel too lazy to pray, having learned to discipline our will, we nevertheless rise to pray, even at night. When we are tempted to hurry through a prayer text without paying attention to its meaning, we make an effort, concentrate, and pray with sincerity.
Everything begins with small things: refraining from irritation, resisting a craving, giving up one’s seat in transport, or offering help to the weak. This is especially relevant for the young, who are often indulgent and willful, making them incapable of fleeing from sin. Many, unfortunately, were not taught obedience and patience in childhood. And as they grow up, such a person, lacking self-control, is unable to keep a family together, for he cannot master his own will. Why are our prisons overflowing today, even though the times of persecution have passed? The majority of those incarcerated are not hardened criminals but, as people say, those who ended up there out of foolishness. Someone was struck, and he struck back—a fight ensued, and now he is in prison. Instead of enduring an insult, seeking peace, remaining silent—he repays offense with offense, simply because he cannot restrain himself. And yet, patience is cultivated precisely through fasting.
The Lord calls us to fast because “flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God,” as the Apostle says (1 Cor. 15:50), and because “the kingdom of God is not meat and drink, but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit.” (Rom. 14:17) Flesh and blood, food and drink, as material and earthly things, must share in the fate of all corruption. But the Kingdom of God, which is spiritual and radiant, where only “righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit” abide, exists apart from the desires of this temporal world.
Bodily fasting is established so that our soul may more easily enter eternity. This is only possible by subduing our sinful and wayward flesh, freeing the soul from its weight, as though giving it wings to soar freely toward heaven, to eternal life with God. The fruits of true fasting are quietness and enlightenment of the soul; purity and chastity of thought; striving for self-restraint against irritation and anger, against evil deeds and impure thoughts; awareness of our sins and deep contrition for them; the joy of cleansing through repentance and the building up of the soul and body as a temple of the Holy Spirit.
“Know ye not that your bodies are the temple of the Holy Spirit which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own? For ye are bought with a price.” (1 Cor. 6:19–20) We do not belong to ourselves, but to God, for we have been purchased at a great price—the Blood of the Son of God.
The Savior teaches us in today’s Gospel: “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” (Matt. 6:19–21)
The Lord calls us to strive, above all, for spiritual gain, even at the expense of material comfort. What is our life? A vapor that rises from the earth, a spark that flies heavenward from the flame, as the holy sages say. That is why the Lord commands: “Lay up treasures in heaven.” Heaven is the Kingdom of God, which, according to the Gospel, must be within us. Thus, the Lord desires that our souls and hearts flourish with incorruptible virtues: patience, self-restraint, mercy, meekness, humility, prayer, kindness, and, as the crown of all virtues—love. But for this to come to pass, we must labor greatly, constantly struggling against sin, reproaching our own irritability, despondency, and love of money, shedding tears of repentance over our own imperfections. This greatest work of our life requires much strength and time. Yet, if we spend all our days running from one shop to another, watching television, building country homes, calculating our pensions—in other words, living in worldly vanity—then we will simply have no strength left for the spiritual life. Whom shall we choose in this fleeting life—God or Mammon? The bright path of the Gospel, or the tyranny of gluttony and lust in this senseless world?
Saint John Chrysostom testifies: “Great is the harm to you if you become attached to earthly things, if you become a slave instead of being free, if you fall away from the heavenly and are unable to think of what is above, but only of money, debts, and profits. What can be more wretched than this?! Such a person falls into slavery, the heaviest slavery of all, and—what is most ruinous—voluntarily rejects the nobility and freedom proper to man.”
Let us then lay up treasure in Heaven, directing the aspirations of our souls toward the things above: unceasing prayer, visiting the sick, giving alms, comforting the sorrowful, reconciling those in enmity. Let us begin to acquire these eternal treasures in the Great Fast, and then let us never abandon these saving works throughout the days of our earthly life.
Let us strive in the coming fast to imitate the restraint of monastics, living differently from our sinful ways. Let us be diligent in prayer, shun vanity, strive not to be irritable or angry, read more spiritually beneficial books, refrain from idle talk, from judgment, from taking what is not ours, from pride. By the end of the fast, I hope, a life of self-restraint will have become natural for us, and I believe we will even grieve at the thought of parting with the fast. But in truth, we need not part with it—we must always seek to live a spiritual life.
And so, brethren, on this day of forgiveness, let us forgive all offenses committed against us by our neighbors. Let us forgive sincerely, from the depths of our hearts. Let us fast not in hypocrisy, but as the Holy Church has prescribed. Let us set our minds on our heavenly homeland and beseech the All-Good God to drive far from us the spirit of despondency, negligence, avarice, and idle talk, and to grant us purity, humility, patience, and love for our neighbors, whether they love us or hate us. Let us learn not to judge but to show mercy and compassion to others, so that the Lord may send us His grace, that we may be cleansed from our sins with heartfelt contrition, and through repentance may be made worthy to partake of the Holy Mysteries, and thus become inheritors of the Kingdom of Heaven through the mercy and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ.
In conclusion, let us remember the words of the Lenten hymn:
“Open unto me the doors of repentance, O Giver of Life! For my spirit rises early to Thy holy temple, bearing the temple of my body all defiled; but in Thy compassion, purify me by Thy merciful love.”
And now, brothers and sisters, I earnestly ask all of you here present, and all those who are not here, to forgive me for my transgressions—whether in word, in deed, or in thought. Forgive my sins, whether committed willingly or unwillingly, through distraction or forgetfulness, through sloth or weakness, through lack of restraint or lack of faith. Forgive me for the sake of Christ, and may God forgive you. Through this mutual forgiveness, let us open the way to receiving forgiveness from God.
Let us ask the Lord to pardon us for our transgressions against His commandments, for our lack of faith and lack of self-restraint, for our offenses against Him through our sins.
Let us forgive one another, brothers and sisters, as we set out on the path of the holy Great Fast—a path that leads to renewal and Resurrection, to a new life with our Lord Jesus Christ!