Homily

I knew a priest one time who was rather unusual. He loved to take all the church services, and he knew every detail of Matins, Vespers and Divine Liturgy, every rubric, every rule for any occasion. He could tell you what to do if Annunciation falls on Easter during a solar eclipse, when the pope is in town and you only have two sub-deacons. He was great at all that stuff. He was also good at visiting the sick and with people at funerals. But other than those qualities he didn't seem to have any idea of how to be a real pastor, or how to run a parish. Things that nearly all priests understand as being part of the job of being a pastor didn't seem to register with him. He simply couldn't see how his actions, and often his lack of taking action, was crippling his parish. He couldn't see how badly he was failing. One person said, "It's like he lives in his own world and that is the only reality he can acknowledge." And I thought that was a very accurate way of describing the situation. He lived in his own world. He couldn't see or understand the real world, because then he would have realized how badly he was serving his parish.

But I have to consider that I too am living in my own world. It's a world that I have created, the world in which I live my life. This world is not the result of mental illness (or at least two of my three doctors would agree with that.) It's not totally disconnected from the real world. I shop at Costco and pay my taxes like normal people. Yet, it's not a world that corresponds to reality 100%.

In my world Christ is King, but not all the time. There are times when my rules, my decisions, my desires win out over what the King would like me to do, which I guess then makes me the king of my world when I chose it to be so. But that doesn't correspond to reality. How can there be two kings? Impossible. But somehow, I think I can make it work.

In my world sometimes I live as though this is all there is. As though this current physical reality, people, places, things, is the sum of my existence. Yes, I know there is a heaven, that there is a spiritual existence, that I have a soul created by God. I know I have an invitation to eternal happiness. But right here, right now, this world, these people, these things, they can just seem so much more important than the things I cannot eat, or drink, or wear, or touch, or use for my own satisfaction. The world I can manipulate, or try to manipulate, sometimes seems so preferable to the world I know that I should surrender myself to. So, I am often more motivated by the limited, physical, ever-changing and double-dealing world than I am by the promise of the Kingdom of God. Does that sound a little crazy? Welcome to my world.

In my world it can be difficult to find time to pray, but easy to find time for entertainment. I am shocked, on a regular basis, by the bad actions of other people, but find it rather easy to forgive myself. Indeed, it's not hard to see the faults in other people. I've practiced judging other people all my life and that's why I am so good at it. And speaking of good, I often want to do what is good and even to be good, but I am so very tempted by the power of "good enough for now" and "good enough for me" that I can convince myself that great holiness is a goal I can never achieve, so why even bother trying? And yet I know Christ calls me to be perfect as my heavenly Father is perfect. Should I just ignore those words as impossible?

In my world I am, for the most part, just a normal person, and so I am afraid to put my life more completely in God's hands because He would push me out of the range of what people think is a "normal person" to a place where I'm not sure what might happen. So, I resist, because I'm afraid. I can be more obedient to my fears than I am to my God, Who offers me nothing but His love.

And what about death in my world? What does it tell me about life? MY life? There is the world that does not care much about the Resurrection. Not concerned with Christ's victory over death. Not looking forward to that same resurrection with any hope or confidence. Not paying much attention to the One who conquered death. And yet, at the same time, so fearful of death that it pushes it out of its conscious thoughts and it lives just for today in a way that presumes there will be endless tomorrows. There is that way of living in the world, and it's all around us. It is easy to conform to that way of living, to embrace the style of life that the so-called "normal world" expects us to choose. If everybody is living like that, how can it be wrong? But it is truly dead wrong, and truly wrong about death.

My friends, I confess I am spiritually schizophrenic. In Greek "schizophrenia" literally means "having two minds" or having a "split mind" and that's how I often find myself. Split between two worlds: my own world and the real world. Christ calls me to the real world, where He is King and the Conqueror over the power of death. He calls me to the real world where He invites me to be with Him, and His Heavenly Father, and the Holy Spirit, not just when I die but even today. He calls me to the real world, the only place where my soul can truly find rest, and not just for today but for eternity. He calls me to the real world where His love forgives sins and grants life to all who seek it.

Maybe you can relate to my schizophrenia. If so, then join with me this Great and Holy Week in looking for healing here in the worship of the Lord at church and also striving to live in greater faith outside of church—at home, work and school. A special effort for a special week.

This week is that special opportunity to move past the border of my own world and live more deeply in the beauty of the real world, where people truly rejoice to say, "Christ is risen!"