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Homily for the First Sunday of Great Lent: Sunday of Orthodoxy, 2026
by Fr. Fadi Rabbat
 
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God. Amen.
 
Beloved in Christ,
 
Today we celebrate the radiant triumph of truth—the Sunday of Orthodoxy. It is not merely a remembrance of an event in history, the restoration of the holy icons, but a proclamation of the faith that makes our whole spiritual struggle during Great Lent meaningful and fruitful. For if our faith is distorted, our fasting and prayer lose their purpose. As Saint Gregory the Theologian tells us, “It is not the fast that sanctifies us, but the truth we hold while we fast.”
 
In the Gospel of Saint John, we hear how Philip finds Nathanael and says, “We have found Him of whom Moses in the Law and the Prophets wrote—Jesus of Nazareth.” Nathanael doubts and asks, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip answers not with argument, but with the simple invitation, “Come and see.”
 
That is the very spirit of our Orthodox faith—not blind belief or philosophical reasoning, but a personal and living encounter with the true and incarnate God. When Nathanael meets Christ, he discovers that Christ already knows him intimately: “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile.” And Nathanael responds in faith, “Rabbi, You are the Son of God, You are the King of Israel.” Then the Lord gives him this promise—“You shall see greater things than these.”
 
My beloved, these “greater things” are the revelation of truth to those who believe rightly and live faithfully. That is why the Church begins the Lenten journey with this Sunday—because true fasting, true repentance, and true prayer must all stand upon the foundation of true faith. A heart that believes falsely cannot be purified truly. Orthodoxy means right worship, right belief, right vision of God.
 
Today the Church rejoices in the victory of true faith over every false teaching. The restoration of icons in the year 843 was not only about the return of sacred images to our churches; it was the visible sign that the Church had triumphed over all error that denied the reality of the Incarnation. The icons we venerate proclaim that the eternal Son of God truly took flesh and became man. As Saint John of Damascus beautifully teaches: “When the Invisible One became visible in the flesh, then you may draw His likeness. For when He who is bodiless and formless took a body and form, you may represent Him.”
 
And so, on this day, as we venerate the holy icons, we also reaffirm all the councils of the Church—the Seven Holy Ecumenical Councils, and all that they confessed concerning Christ, the Trinity, and the mystery of salvation. The faith we proclaim today is the same faith handed down from the Apostles through the Fathers, the faith of the Church throughout all ages.
 
Without that faith, beloved, Lent cannot lead us to transformation. The Church gives us fasting, prayer, and acts of mercy not as ends in themselves, but as paths toward union with the living God. If our image of God is false, then our worship and our repentance are built on sand. That is why the Church guards true doctrine so carefully—not as a matter of argument, but as a matter of salvation.
 
Today the Synodikon of Orthodoxy is read in churches and monasteries throughout the world, proclaiming “Anathema” to heresy and “Eternal Memory” to those who defended the truth. In doing so, we renew our promise to remain steadfast in the same confession: “This is the faith of the Apostles; this is the faith of the Fathers; this is the faith of the Orthodox; this faith has established the universe.”
 
And next Sunday, the Church continues this same theme of true knowledge and divine light by honoring Saint Gregory Palamas. The Sunday of Saint Gregory is not separate from today—it is the continuation and deepening of this same confession. For Saint Gregory defended the distinction between the “essence and “energies” of God, teaching us that the living God, though beyond comprehension in His essence, truly reveals Himself and unites Himself to us through His uncreated grace and light.
 
The light that shone on Mount Tabor, the light of Christ in His Transfiguration, is not a symbol but the very uncreated energy of God Himself. Saint Gregory Palamas says, “We know our God from His energies, but we neither assert that we can approach His essence, nor do we say that His essence and His energies are separated.” In this, he shows that the same Lord Whom we behold in icons is the God Who makes Himself known to the pure in heart through His divine light.
 
Our ascetic struggle, therefore, is not merely moral effort—it is participation in this divine light. As we fast, as we pray, as we confess and forgive, we prepare our hearts to receive that same uncreated grace which sanctified the saints and illumined the Apostles. Our goal is not simply to abstain from food but to be filled with divine life; not merely to control the body but to see God by grace as He truly is.
 
Orthodoxy, beloved, is a way of life, a life. It is not a memory of ancient victories or a collection of doctrines—it is the living truth of God present in His Church today. To live as an Orthodox Christian means to confess Christ rightly, to worship rightly, to love rightly, to see rightly. It means to let the light of God transform every thought, word, and deed.
 
So let us keep this feast not only with processions and icons, but with a renewed heart and a steadfast faith. Let our fasting be illumined by truth, our prayers strengthened by love, and our works of mercy inspired by right belief.
 
And so, as Philip once said to Nathanael, the Church today says to each of us: “Come and see.”
Come and see the truth that saves.
Come and see the light that no darkness can overcome.
Come and see the beauty of the uncreated light of God reflected in His saints and in His holy Church.
 
May this Great Lent lead us from repentance to illumination, from the vision of holy icons to the vision of the uncreated light, and from faith in words to faith in life—so that, beholding the glory of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, we too may become by grace what Christ is by nature.
 
Amen.
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Homily for the Second Sunday of Great Lent, The Sunday of St Gregory Palamas, 2026
By Fr. Fadi Rabbat
 
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
 
Beloved in Christ,
 
Today, on the second Sunday of Great Lent, our Holy Orthodox Church places before us the great fourteenth‑century Father, Saint Gregory Palamas, Archbishop of Thessaloniki, whom the Church has called a second Triumph of Orthodoxy. His usual feast day is November 14, the day of his repose and heavenly birth, but we commemorate him again now because his teaching was formally vindicated by the Church in the fourteenth century, just as the veneration of the holy icons was vindicated in the ninth century. In this way, today’s feast continues last Sunday’s celebration of Orthodoxy and shows us how our faith is not only confessed with words but actually lived and experienced.
 
Last Sunday, we processed with the holy icons and proclaimed that Christ is true God and true man, not a creature, and that in His one Person the divine and human natures are united without confusion, change, division, or separation. The icon of Christ proclaims what the Ecumenical Councils taught: that the God‑man has two natures and two wills, divine and human, and that He alone is the Savior of the world. The icon also shows us that Christ is “light”—the Light of the world who shines in the darkness, the same uncreated light that the apostles beheld on Mount Tabor at His Transfiguration.
 
But this raises a crucial question for us during the Fast: How does this faith become life? How do these dogmas move from our books and our lips into our hearts and our experience?
 
This is why the Church brings St Gregory Palamas before us today. He is not honored simply as a brilliant theologian but as a saint who shows us how the truth we confessed last Sunday can be tasted and lived. In all his teaching, St Gregory does not only tell us who Christ is; he shows us how the human person can be united to Christ. He does not only define deification (theosis); he explains how a Christian can actually begin to experience deification in his or her own life. He does not only speak about what the Church is; he teaches how to become a true, glorified member of the Church.
 
In the fourteenth century, there were bitter disputes about whether it is truly possible for human beings to have direct communion with God or to see the divine light. Some claimed that between God and humanity there is an unbridgeable gap, that we can never really know Him but only speak about Him from a distance. St Gregory, drawing on the Holy Fathers and his own experience as an Athonite monk and hesychast, articulated the Church’s faith: God in His essence remains beyond every creature and every concept, utterly unknowable; yet God truly reveals Himself and makes Himself accessible in His energies—His actions, grace, and uncreated light. When we encounter God’s grace in prayer, in the mysteries, and in a life of purification and love, we are not touching a created symbol or a mere effect; we are truly participating in God Himself, in His uncreated energies.
 
This is why the Church calls St Gregory the theologian of the uncreated light and of the Jesus Prayer. As a monk, and later as a bishop, he devoted himself to inner stillness, to watchfulness of the heart, and to the continual invocation of the Name of Jesus. Night and day he cried to God with the simple prayer, “Enlighten my darkness,” and through obedience, humility, fasting, and unceasing prayer he learned by experience what he taught: that the light of Tabor is the same uncreated grace that can shine in the heart purified from the passions. This grace illumines us, unites us to God, and gives us a foretaste of the glory that will fill the saints after the resurrection.
 
The Synodikon of Orthodoxy, which we heard last Sunday, reflects this deep unity. In its first part it proclaims the restoration of the holy icons and the Orthodox doctrine defined at the Seventh Ecumenical Council. In its second part it proclaims the teaching of St Gregory Palamas and the councils that defended him, especially concerning the uncreated light of God seen by the apostles on Mount Tabor. Thus the first Sunday of the Fast celebrates the truth of Orthodox doctrine; the second Sunday shows us the method, the way in which this doctrine becomes a lived experience through hesychasm, ascesis, and prayer.
 
Beloved in Christ, this means that church life is not just about what is outward and visible: not only statistics, statements, analyses, or, God forbid, scandals. The true life of the Church is often hidden from the eyes of the world in the secret work of grace in the heart, in the repentance of sinners, in the tears of prayer, in the quiet faithfulness of those who call upon the Name of the Lord. And that is why, at Great Vespers yesterday evening for this Sunday, the Church put on our lips such exalted words for Saint Gregory. We sang:
 
“With what fair crowns of praise shall we crown the divine and all‑laudable hierarch?—that clear trumpet sounding theology, the mouth of grace that doth breathe forth fire, the venerable vessel of the Spirit, the mighty unshaken pillar of the Church of Christ, the great and exceeding gladness of the whole world, the mighty river of wisdom of God’s inspiration, and the lamp of the divine light, the bright and far‑shining star that maketh creation radiant.”
 
In other verses we called him “the illustrious hierarch,” “the brave champion fighting for piety, who fought against all impiety,” “the ardent protector of our true Faith, the mighty leader and teacher who doth show the way, the lyre of the Spirit sweet and all harmonious, the tongue august and gold‑gleaming, and the spring that gusheth with the floods of healings for all the faithful, our very great and praiseworthy Father Gregory.” When we recall what we sang yesterday, we understand that the Church does not see Gregory as a distant theologian in a library, but as a living trumpet of theology, a pillar of the Church, a lamp and a star filled with the uncreated light he preached, a spring of grace for us today. And if the Church dares to praise him in such terms, it is because what God accomplished in him, He desires to begin—according to our measure—in us as well: that our mouths, too, might become mouths of grace, our hearts vessels of the Spirit, our lives small lamps of the same divine light.
 
This is the life that the saints lived and that St Gregory Palamas describes for us.
 
For us today, in the middle of Great Lent, this feast is a consolation and a challenge. It is a consolation because it tells us that our fasting, our extra services, our efforts at prayer and repentance are not empty exercises or mere rules. They are a way of making room in our hearts for the uncreated grace of God, of clearing away the noise so that we can truly encounter Him. They are a path toward becoming “friends of Christ,” sharing in His glory with all the saints whose faces shine in the holy icons.
 
And it is a challenge because St Gregory reminds us that Orthodoxy is not simply correct ideas about God. The demons also know that God exists, and they tremble. Orthodoxy is right worship and right life—a living tradition of prayer, sacramental participation, and transformation. The hesychast tradition that St Gregory defended is not the possession of monks alone. Every Christian can begin, according to his or her state, to practice inner attention, the remembrance of God, the Jesus Prayer, and to receive Holy Communion with awareness that we are united to the very Body and Blood of the incarnate Son of God.
 
So, on this Sunday of St Gregory Palamas, let us ask ourselves:
 
- Do I believe that it is truly possible to experience God, or do I live as if He were far away and unreachable?
- Do I treat prayer and the fast as mere obligations, or as a way of opening my heart to the uncreated light?
- Do I approach the holy icons, the Scriptures, and the Mysteries as windows into the Kingdom, as encounters with Christ Himself?
 
Let us take up with new zeal the prayer of the saint we honor today: “Lord, enlighten my darkness.” May this simple cry accompany our fasting, our Confession, our reception of the holy Eucharist, and our little efforts at love and forgiveness in our families and community. If we persevere, even in weakness, the Lord will indeed enlighten us. He will show us who He is, what Orthodoxy truly is, what the holy icon means, and how we can share in the glory of His Church on earth and in heaven.
 
Through the prayers of our holy father Gregory Palamas, Lord Jesus Christ our God, have mercy on us and save us. Amen.