Christ is Risen, my dear readers!
St. Philip. Photo: wikimedia.org Today we turn our gaze to the pages of the Acts of the Apostles, which tell of the great joy that visited Samaria. We see Philip the Deacon—a man “full of the Spirit and of power.” His example is a living witness that the Lord acts not through ranks and titles, but through open hearts.
The sacred scripture writer tells us: For unclean spirits, crying with loud voice, came out of many that were possessed with them: and many taken with palsies, and that were lame, were healed (Acts of the Apostles 8:7). Why did the Samaritans receive Philip with one accord? The answer lies in the purity of their souls. Though lacking the splendor of the Judaean Temple worship, the Samaritans retained the capacity for compassion. They brought their suffering ones to Philip’s feet, and through their faith the miracle was accomplished. The departure of demons with a “loud cry” is not merely a metaphor. It is the moment when the devil’s dominion over human nature is shattered. The Lord came to destroy the works of darkness, and Philip merely continued that liberating procession.
Many ask: Where are such healings today? Why are the squares of our cities not filled with the cries of those delivered from demons? In the early centuries, miracles served as a confirmation of the truth, helping people distinguish the word of God from pagan superstition. Today the Gospel has been preached throughout the world, and the Lord expects from us not the search for spectacles, but the labor of faith in the silence of the heart. A miracle is an answer to faith. Yet we have become too rational, too self-sufficient. Modern man seeks a doctor, a psychologist, a psychic—anyone but God. Moreover, as St. Paisios of Mount Athos said, modern people are like drained batteries. We no longer possess the fiery zeal that dwelt in St. Philip the Deacon.
Are the words about the possessed still relevant today? Without question. The world has changed, but not for the better. Possession does not always manifest itself as foaming at the mouth. In our time it has taken subtler forms. We live in an ocean of words, and the Word of God seems to us merely “one opinion among many.” We see people losing their freedom, becoming slaves to passions, ideologies, or destructive addictions.
From occultists to manipulators of consciousness in the media, souls are seized by those forces embraced by people who have rejected God. When a person refuses the Divine will, he inevitably becomes a toy in the hands of alien powers. If once demons seized men by force, today they enter through quiet addictions and proud self-will. And just as the demons once cried out at the presence of Philip, so too today true preaching provokes aggression, mockery, or the “cry” of indignation in many. Truth irritates those who have grown accustomed to living in falsehood.
The absence of mass healings in our time is not a sign that the power of God has diminished, but the result of our inward closedness. We have become too rational; our minds are overloaded with information, so that the living Word of preaching seems only noise. If the Samaritans “with one accord gave heed” to Philip, modern society often responds to truth either with indifference or with hostility—like that very cry of the unclean spirits, disturbed by the presence of Light. And we ourselves, sadly, often preach with our lips while denying God by our deeds.
Even the example of the sorcerer Simon Magus, who sought to buy grace with money, serves as a warning to us. Many in our own day seek in the Church not the salvation of the soul, but “magical” help or earthly prosperity. But as shown by the example of the apostles Peter and John, grace is not sold—it is granted only to a pure and repentant heart.
The story of St. Philip the Deacon teaches us that persecutions and hardships only aid the spread of faith when the heart burns with love for Christ. It reminds us that each of us is called to be a bearer of joy. Though we may not have the power to heal the lame bodily, we can strengthen those paralyzed in spirit through a kind word and love. Miracles have not ceased—they have simply moved inward, into the human soul. The greatest miracle today is the repentance of a sinner and his turning toward the Light.
May our life become such a sermon—one that awakens not disputes, but that same pure joy which once embraced all Samaria.
Truly Christ is Risen!
