Sing with a Saint

The soul that is counted worthy to participate in the light of the Holy Spirit by becoming his throne and habitation, and is covered with the ineffable glory of the Spirit, becomes all light, all face, all eye. There is no part of the soul that is not full of the spiritual eyes of light. That is to say, there is no part of the soul that is covered with darkness.
(Saint Makarios of Egypt)

When John Wesley read St. Makarios, he wrote in his diary on July 30th, 1736, “I read Macarius and sang.” Of how many other desert monks can one say this? The great saints of the ancient desert in Egypt were austere. Makarios himself was severe in his own ascetic labors, and his Christianity was certainly not the superficial, feel-good Christianity that is common today. But there is something in his writings that fills you with hope and light, as the above example illustrates.

The Orthodox Church celebrates the memory of St. Makarios on January 19th, just after commemorating three other saints of Egypt (Antony, Athanasius, Cyril). So with Makarios we are back again in the fourth century to the time of St Antony and St Athanasius. What could these saints have to say to us? We live in times of growing darkness. There is hardly any of the light that Makarios could speak of. And that’s where we’re wrong. There is plenty light out there! Plenty saints and saints in the making. Perhaps you are one! Makarios will tell us that the world is full of light. It’s a supernatural light, a gift of the Holy Spirit, that shines within the inner being of countless people. I know people who have this light, and I see it shining on their faces and in their words and actions. As Makarios put it, there is no part of their souls that is covered with darkness.

An amazing old icon of Saint Makarios, badly damaged by age, probably painted on a wall surface, probably Russian in origin, or maybe not. But I just love the whiteness of it and the undefined face. Does it not speak of light to you? There is a wildness here that speaks of the unrestrained power of Light as it comes to inhabit a pure heart and soul..

The Orthodox Church exists to make us saints. Simple as that. Τα άγια τοις αγίοις we hear at the climactic point of the Liturgy. The άγιοι (the saints), receive the άγια (the holy gifts). It’s beautiful and simple in the original Greek, but the message comes through in the English translation as well. If the Orthodox Church did not proclaim this truth at every Liturgy, then why would it exist at all? And the fact that we proclaim to loudly and clearly at every Liturgy is one of the things the define us as a true Church of Christ!

The light is there, all around us. It shines in people, it illumines us in prayer and worship and it illumines the darkness when we share the sufferings of others. The actor Shia LaBeouf (of Transformers fame) recently had a profound conversion to Catholic Christianity. In an interview on YouTube he posed a question I had never thought to ask: How do you make your suffering useful? How can you make your pain useful?

There is redemptive power in suffering. Jesus suffered to the point of death. But “for the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:2) For the joy set before him, the joy that he could see over the horizon, Jesus endured the torments the world threw at him. His suffering was redemptive. Not only because through his death he opened eternal life to us, but also because he tells us that there is power in suffering through today’s troubles. 

How easy it is to sink into depression and despair, but a ray of light from one of Christ’s messengers can instantly change one’s entire demeanor. Don’t hide your light, Jesus told us. Let it shine. Let it touch where pain and suffering have taken the joy out of people near you. In helping others we also find the power in our own suffering, the usefulness of our pain, to borrow LaBeouf’s terminology. It is the deep mystery of the universe because God put it there. Or should I call it the deeper mystery, to adapt a famous phrase C. S. Lewis uses in his The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe?

Let us who have the light of Christ in us find each other and join together to redeem the suffering of others and of creation. This is the calling I’m hearing from Saint Makarios and John Wesley’s reaction to Makarios. Let’s join Saint Makarios and John Wesley and SING!

Let’s start by singing the Beatitudes. What a beautiful name, by the way: Makarios means ‘Blessed’. The Beatitudes that we sing most Sundays in the Liturgy all begin with ‘Makarioi”, the plural form of Makarios. And if you come early enough, and not on Greek time, you’ll hear them sung. Join in the next time you come to Liturgy. This is the joy set before us:

  • Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
  • Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
  • Blessed are the gentle, for they shall inherit the earth.
  • Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.
  • Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.
  • Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
  • Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.
  • Blessed are they that are persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
  • Blessed are you when men shall revile you and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake.
  • Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven.

Father Constantine Sarantidis