OrthoAnalytika
From Eden to the ChurchBeauty, Architecture, and the Space Where God Dwells Christian architecture is not primarily about style or preference. It is about ordering space so that human beings learn how to dwell with God. The Church building is Eden remembered and anticipated—a place where heaven and earth meet, so that God’s people can be formed and then sent back into the world. Key Biblical Insights 1. Eden Was God’s Dwelling Place Eden is first described not as humanity’s home, but as God’s planted garden—a place of divine presence, beauty, and order. Genesis...
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Luke 17:12-19; The Grateful Leper I've included my notes, but I didn't follow them, choosing instead to offer a meditation on the "go show yourself to the priest" part of the Levitical command and noting how we do the same - and will all do the same one day at the Great Judgment. Homily: Healing, Vision, and the Mercy of God Onee of the things that sometimes gives people pause—especially when they encounter it for the first time—comes from the Book of Needs, in the prayers the priest offers for those who are sick. If you have ever been present for these prayers, you may have...
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Beauty in Orthodoxy: Architecture I The Beauty of Creation and the Shape of Reality In this class, the first in a series on "Orthodox Beauty in Architecture," Father Anthony explores beauty not as decoration or subjective taste, but as a theological category that reveals God, shapes human perception, and defines humanity’s priestly vocation within creation. Drawing extensively on Archbishop Job of Telmessos’ work on creation as icon, he traces a single arc from Genesis through Christ to Eucharist and sacred space, showing how the Fall begins with distorted vision and how repentance...
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Homily: The Sunday after Theophany Hebrews 13:7–16; Matthew 4:12–17 This homily explores repentance as the doorway from darkness into light, and from spiritual novelty into mature faithfulness. Rooted in Hebrews and the Gospel proclamation after Theophany, it calls Christians to become not sparks of passing enthusiasm, but enduring flames shaped by grace, sacrifice, and hope in the coming Kingdom. ---- Today’s Scripture readings give us three interrelated truths—three movements in the life of salvation and theosis. First: darkness and light. Second: repentance as the way from...
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Homily – Repent… and Change the World (Embrace Boredom) Sunday before Theophany 2 Timothy 4:5–8; St. Mark 1:1–8 This is the Sunday before Theophany, when the Church sets before us St. John the Baptist and his ministry of repentance—how he prepared the world to receive the God-man, Jesus Christ. John was the son of the priest Zachariah and his wife Elizabeth, the cousin of the Mother of God. When Mary visited Elizabeth during her pregnancy, John leapt in his mother’s womb. But what we sometimes forget is what followed. While Zachariah was serving in the Temple, the angel...
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Homily for the Sunday after Nativity The Child Christ in the World—and in Our Hearts Gospel: St. Matthew 2:13–23 [Retelling the Lesson] God humbles Himself to save mankind. He leaves His rightful inheritance as God and becomes man, born as a child in Bethlehem. And how does the world receive Him? Is He born in a temple? In a palace? Places that might seem fitting for the Ruler of the Ages? No—He is laid in a manger, in a stable. And even that is not the worst of it. When the leaders of the day learn of His birth, do they submit to Him? Do they nurture and protect Him so that He may...
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St. Matthew 1:1-25 Why was the Son of God commanded to be named Jesus—the New Joshua? In this Advent reflection, Fr. Anthony shows how Christ fulfills Israel’s story by conquering sin and death, and calls us to repentance so that we may enter the victory He has already won. --- Homily on the Name of Jesus Sunday before the Nativity In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. “They named Him Jesus, because He would deliver His people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:21) Names matter in Scripture. They are never accidental. A name reveals identity, vocation,...
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Fr. Anthony preaches on three types of pilgrimage and how they work towards our salvation.
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Do You Want to Be Healed? Letting God Rewrite the Story Ephesians 8:5-19 Today, Fr. Anthony reflects on how the deepest obstacles to healing are often the stories we tell ourselves to justify, protect, and control our lives. Drawing on the Prophet Isaiah, the Gospel parables of the banquet, and the power of silence before God, he explores how true healing begins when we let go of our fallen narratives and allow Christ to reconstruct our story through humility, prayer, and repentance. The path of peace is not found in domination or self-justification, but in stillness at the feet of the Lord...
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I Corinthians 4:9-16 St. John 1:35-51 In this homily for the Feast of St. Andrew, Fr. Anthony contrasts the world’s definition of success with the apostolic witness of sacrifice, humility, and courageous love. Drawing on St. Paul’s admonition to the Corinthians, he calls Christians to recover the reverence due to bishops and spiritual fathers, to reject the corrosive logic of social media, and to return to the ascetical path that forms us for theosis. St. Andrew and St. Paul's lives reveals that true honor is found not in comfort or acclaim but in following Christ wherever He leads —...
info_outlineHomily for the Sunday after Nativity
The Child Christ in the World—and in Our Hearts
Gospel: St. Matthew 2:13–23
[Retelling the Lesson]
God humbles Himself to save mankind. He leaves His rightful inheritance as God and becomes man, born as a child in Bethlehem. And how does the world receive Him? Is He born in a temple? In a palace? Places that might seem fitting for the Ruler of the Ages?
No—He is laid in a manger, in a stable.
And even that is not the worst of it. When the leaders of the day learn of His birth, do they submit to Him? Do they nurture and protect Him so that He may grow into manhood as prophet, priest, and king? No. In today’s Gospel we hear that the Holy Family must flee into Egypt to escape assassination. Christ the Logos, the awaited Messiah, the answer to all the worlds ills, enters the world, and the world tries to kill Him. The slaughter of the innocents becomes the terrible offering laid on the altar of human evil and hard-heartedness.
[This Story is OUR Story]
This is a shameful story, and it is told to us each year at this time as a warning. It is tempting to imagine ourselves as the angels, the wise men, or the shepherds. But Scripture is far more useful when we recognize that we are often the ones who belittle Christ, who persecute Him, and who push Him to the margins.
Just as Christ humbled Himself to enter the world as a child in Bethlehem in order to transform it, so He humbles Himself now to enter the temple of our hearts in order to transform us. And the parallel continues: what kind of place does He find this time? Is our heart a dwelling fit for the Ruler of the Ages—or is it more like a forgotten corner of our lives, our own version of the manger?
And once we realize that it really is Christ who dwells within us, how do we respond? Do we give Him the due He deserves and reorder our lives around Him, or do we quietly push Him aside—to the periphery of our thoughts, our plans, and our priorities?
[Gnostic America]
Many scholars have noted that the dominant religion in America has never truly been Christianity, but a kind of modern Gnosticism. Gnosticism teaches that the divine already dwells within us, that we are already enlightened, already whole. This belief permeates our culture and is magnified by consumerism and – dare I say it - Orthodox triumphalism. When clothed in Christian language, this belief sounds familiar—and dangerous. Whether consciously or subconsciously, when we hear that Christ dwells in our hearts, we are tempted to hear confirmation we already knew: that not only are we basically good people, and not only are we right pretty much all the time, we are already divine.
But this is not true. God is God, and we are not. Yes, His desire is to transform us—that is the meaning of the Nativity—but when we claim divinity for ourselves, we do exactly what Herod did: we place ourselves on the throne and push Christ to the margins.
Why did Herod seek to kill the Christ Child? Out of self-preservation. Christ was a threat. And if we are not careful, we will do the same. Our pride constructs a false reality in which we are the good ones—the good gods, if you will—and God merely works through us. This is spiritual delusion. It is prelest.
We convince ourselves that we have built a glorious temple for God in our hearts from which He rules in glorious benevolence, when in fact we are still really only worshiping ourselves, no matter what words we use.
[A Restatement]
Let me come at this a different way. Christ truly has been born within us. He lives at the center of our souls. But our souls are clouded by thoughts and passions, and so we often fail to notice Him. If we do not struggle against our fallen nature, we will nurture our pride or our fallen conscience and call it “God.” But the god of pride cannot save—it can only deceive and our conscience is rarely more than our feelings.
So how do we tell the difference? How do we know whether Christ reigns within us, or whether it is our ego?
The answer is not abstract; it is clear from scripture. Christ did not live for Himself. Every action of His life was offered in sacrificial service to others—especially to those who did not understand Him or appreciate Him. He did not act out of fear of punishment or hope of reward. He acted out of love. He was Love.
If our lives are truly marked by this kind of self-giving love, then Christ is indeed growing within us. But we must beware: pride is a master illusionist. Encouraged by the enemies of the air, the master marketers and manipulators, it will always try to convince us that we are more generous, more loving, more sacrificial than we really are.
Here is a practical test for us:
Are we willing to leave our comfort zones, deny ourselves, and take up the cross?
Are we willing to give without expecting anything in return?
Are we willing to love even those who cannot repay us?
What are we willing to give up so that some may be saved?
Let’s be even more concrete.
What is our attitude toward sacrificial giving? Toward tithing? Towards almsgiving?
How much time are we willing to give each day to prayer for those who suffer? For those who hate us and those who wrong us?
How much effort do we invest in healing broken relationships in our families, our parish, and our community?
When was the last time we tempered our self-righteousness with humility and admitted we were wrong and asked forgiveness of someone we perceived as less than ourselves?
When challenged to real self-sacrifice, most of us will rebel – even pre-cognitively – and our big brains will begin to justify ignoring the need and “crossing to the other side of the road” as did the priest and the Levite in the parable of the Good Samaritan. But Christ never made excuses to avoid doing what was right. He rolled up His sleeves and did what needed to be done without counting the cost. His sacrificial service was a natural expression of His love.
Can we say the same? If not, then let’s change our story so that we can. Orthodoxy is about more than words and being right. God didn’t consider Himself to be so right that he wasn’t willing to come and suffer with and for us. Orthodoxy is just a bunch of prideful words for us until we are willing to do the same.
Christ is born!
He has made His home in the manger of our souls. What happens next is us to us.