Metropolitan Luke (Kovalenko)
Christ is in our midst, dear readers!
Today the words of the Apostle of love, John the Theologian, knock at our hearts—words that sound like a sword cutting in two all the complexity of our being: He that doeth good is of God: but he that doeth evil hath not seen God (3 John 1:11). In these simple words lies the entire optics of the Christian life.
We often confuse goodness with natural gentleness, good manners, or merely a fleeting emotional impulse. But the Apostle speaks of something else. Goodness is not a character trait. It is the presence of God in a person. When we perform true good, we become, for a moment, the hands of Christ, His voice, His compassion.
St. Tikhon of Zadonsk offers us the image of a farmer. The world often looks at a believing person with bewilderment, and sometimes even with mockery: “Why do you waste your time on the ungrateful? Why give away your last when times are so hard? Live for yourself!” It is like a madman laughing at a sower who casts seed into the dirt. To the madman, it seems the seed has perished. But we know that only the seed that falls into the soil of humility and hides itself from human eyes will spring up into eternal joy.
Yet here a most subtle danger lies in wait for us. It happens that the hand does good while the heart feeds on pride. How often, after taking even a small step toward our neighbor, do we immediately look around. Did they notice? Did they praise us? Did they appreciate our “sacrifice”? If we are offended by a lack of gratitude, then our good was not “of God.” It was “of self-love.” We were not sowing seed into eternity—we were trying to sell it profitably in the earthly marketplace of vanity.
Everyone understands that true light does not complain that it goes unnoticed. It simply shines, because it cannot do otherwise. For a faithful heart, the gaze of God alone should be enough to feel infinitely rich.
The Apostle speaks in fearsomely: He that doeth evil hath not seen God. This does not mean that the sinner has never heard of the Creator or has not read the Scriptures. It means that his inner eye has grown blind.
Evil rarely enters our life as an open enemy. More often it slips in through “imitation.” We justify our coldness with phrases such as: “Everyone lives this way,” “Such are the times,” “We must be realistic,” “We have to keep our nose to the wind.” St. Tikhon of Zadonsk compared such people to dumb cattle that run after the leader, even if a cliff lies ahead. But a Christian is one who has the courage not to be like everyone else. When the world around us is colored in the gray tones of indifference, we are called to become those “lights” that show the way.
How, then, shall we stand firm? How shall we resist this hypnosis of the crowd? By ceasing to ask, “What are others doing?” and learning instead to ask, “What does the Lord expect of me?” Like righteous Lot, we must stand in the truth even if everything around us collapses. We must use, in St. Tikhon’s apt expression, the “Mirror of Scripture.” Apply each action, each word, to the Word of God as to a standard. If our deed contradicts love—turn away your eyes, close your ears, take no part in the works of darkness.
Strive for active mercy. When fear and anxiety tighten the heart and cause us to close in upon ourselves, this is a sure sign that the soul is beginning to “freeze.” The only way to grow warm is to warm another. Mercy is the only antidote to the poison of despondency.
My dear ones! In our ears there must always resound the two chief verbs of Christ: “Come” and “Depart.” The one is a call to the eternal banquet for those who recognized God in the face of their neighbor. The other is a terrible sentence upon those who passed by, excusing themselves with “circumstances.”
Let our goodness be quiet, yet effective. Let us not be afraid to be “different.” Let us imitate not our neighbor in his weaknesses, but Christ in His boundless love. Let us hasten to sow good seed today, that tomorrow, on the day of the great Harvest, we may with a pure heart embrace our Savior.
