Homily - Repent and Burn (in a good way)

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 darkness into light.
Third: what children of the light actually do once they have been illumined. 

Point One: Darkness and Light

In today’s Gospel, St Matthew quotes the prophet Isaiah:

“The people who sat in darkness saw a great light;
and upon those who sat in the region and shadow of death, light has dawned.”

This is not merely a poetic description of history. It is a diagnosis of the human heart.

Scripture teaches us that our calling as human beings—our calling as Christians—is to become “children of the light and children of the day.” Light is not something we admire from a distance. It is something we are meant to live in, to be shaped by, and to reflect.

Darkness, in Scripture, is not simply ignorance. It is disorder. It is the twisting of desire. It is the heart turned inward on itself. And Christ comes—not merely to expose darkness—but to heal us of it.

That is why today’s epistle begins by reminding us:

“Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God; consider the outcome of their life, and imitate their faith.” (Hebrews 13:7)

Light becomes visible in lives that endure. The Christian life is not meant to flash briefly and disappear. God desires something steadier—not sparks, but flames.

Point Two: Repentance — Leaving the Darkness

Immediately after this proclamation of light, Christ begins His preaching with a single command:

“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”

If we want to be part of the Light of Perfection, then the darkness in our lives and in our souls must be removed. Repentance is not optional. It is the doorway into illumination.

Here we must confront a deep confusion in our culture—and often in our own hearts. We have the relationship between happiness and goodness exactly backwards.

We tend to think: “It is good for me to be happy.”
And then we go looking for ways to become happy.

But Scripture teaches the opposite:
Happiness is not the path to goodness.
Goodness is the path to real happiness.

The epistle warns us:

“Do not be led away by diverse and strange teachings; for it is well that the heart be strengthened by grace, not by foods.” (Hebrews 13:9)

Indulgence does not strengthen the heart. Novelty does not strengthen the heart. Only grace does.  There is a danger here for neophytes because Orthodox is novel for them; there is an experiential conflation of the happiness that comes from new fascinations and their new connection with The Good Itself.  More on this in a moment.

Back to repentance.  Repentance is how the heart is strengthened. It is how the flickering light of intention becomes steady. The iterated acts of repentance that constitute the Christian life is how God turns sparks into flames.

Repentance and Tears

This will bring tears.  Christ does not say, “You have suffered enough—come get comfortable in the light.”

He says, “Repent.”

Repentance is rarely pleasant. We do not repent because it makes us happy, although it occasionally will in the short term; again, because of our fascination with things that are new and shiny. But regardless, we do not repent for happiness; we repent because the darkness that has accumulated in our souls cannot survive in the presence of the Light and we want to grow in that light.  And that is going to involve suffering on account of the darkness that is within us; a darkness that has often come to define us.

The epistle reminds us:

“So Jesus also suffered outside the gate in order to sanctify the people through his own blood. Therefore let us go forth to him outside the camp, and bear the abuse he endured.” (Hebrews 13:12–13)

Repentance means leaving what is familiar and comfortable. It means stepping outside the camp. It means allowing the old life to die so that a new one can endure.

Point Three: What Children of the Light Do

Christ does not defeat the devil in the wilderness and then rest. He immediately begins His ministry.

And so must we.

We do not hide the light God has given us. We let it shine. And because we have been given different gifts, we shine in different ways.

But we must be clear about the direction of this life:

“For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city which is to come.” (Hebrews 13:14)

Children of the light do not live for momentary brightness. They live toward the Kingdom. God is not basing the establishment of His Kingdom on bright flashes of enthusiasm; He is forming it on the constancy of the saints—not sparks, but flames.

Marriage, Monasticism, and Mature Joy

Many people experience spiritual puppy love when they first encounter Christ and His Church. And thanks be to God for that—it is a real gift.

But puppy love is not the same thing as mature love.

The Church teaches this most clearly through marriage and monasticism.

Marriage matures love through patience, forgiveness, sacrifice, and daily fidelity.
Monastic life matures love through obedience, stability, and perseverance.

Both proclaim the same truth:
love becomes real when it stops being about how we feel and starts being about who we are becoming.

Hebrews names this life plainly:

“Through him let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God… Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.” (Hebrews 13:15–16)

This is the rhythm of mature Christian life—ordinary faithfulness, repeated again and again, until the light no longer flickers but until we all bear and share the eternal flame that is God’s energies, constantly working through us and transforming us and this world towards His perfection in an ending tide of theosific grace.

This is how Christ forms His people: not sparks, but flames.

The Call

All of us are called to worship, and if we are new to this the spark of our participation is infinitely greater than the darkness we once new — but it is still only the beginning of life in Christ.

We have been given great gifts—individually and as a parish. We must guard against using them just to make ourselves feel good, and start using them to bring light.

May Christ, the Light who has dawned upon us, make us children of the day—
no longer sparks, but flames.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.