Monday, June 1, 2026: Day of the Holy Spirit
EPHESIANS 5:9-19
MATTHEW 18:10-20
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Christ is in our midst! In the Epistle today, Saint Paul is encouraging those who are asleep to awaken, those who are asleep to walk circumspectly, to be aware that the days are wicked, and essentially that time is short, that we would redeem our lives by doing what we’re meant to do as sons and daughters of light, that we would be in the world, that we would function in the world as light, revealing the works of darkness, not having fellowship with it, but exposing it. Recognizing the shamefulness and the wickedness of it.
Now, this troubles us insofar as we actually have to do it. We appreciate hearing it, we appreciate it when others do it, but when it comes to our own life, we struggle with it. And we struggle with it because, as the Lord says, you know, men love the darkness. We love our darkness, and we love sleeping in.
One of the most spiritual inventions of the modern time is the snooze button. The snooze button was truly invented by someone who understands human nature. We love to sleep. We love resisting getting up. And the reason for it is not so much laziness. We all struggle with laziness. Rather, I would say, for many of us, it’s a matter of fear. It’s a matter of fear. We’re cowards. We fear the day. We fear what the day is going to bring to us: the struggles of the day, the temptations of the day, the burdens of the day, we struggle with it. We faint in the face of it. So, we don’t want to wake up.
We don’t want to wake up. And this is understandable because this life is difficult. St. Paul also says in the Epistle of Timothy, those who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution. And so, again, we appreciate it when people shed light on things that are wrong, as long as they’re the ones who are doing it. But when it comes to our own life, whether it’s our own darkness or the fact that maybe we’re scared, we’re scared of what it means to face our darkness. We’re scared of what it means to have it exposed.
We need something. What do we need? We need an angel. We need a messenger. We need to remember that no matter how long our beard is, or how little hair we have on the top of our heads, whether we’re wearing black robes or whether we’re wearing black Nikes, before the Lord, we’re children. And the Lord recognizes the weakness. He recognizes how timid and fearful we are. And so, He sends angels.
Those angels are there to watch over us, to guard us. That watching over us and that guarding us isn’t just about making sure we don’t trip and fall or accidentally stick our fingers in a light socket. Those angels are there to make sure that we do our tasks. To make sure that we live in the way that God has ordained for us to live. They’re there to give us courage. They’re there to strengthen us. Because our Father in heaven is watching. And He desires that we would use the time that we have appropriately.
There is a recent saint, Saint Paisius of Sihăstria, a Romanian saint, who suffered much. Of his 93 or so years that he lived, the last six of them he spent in bed, blind, crippled. And even though he was still blind and crippled, he would still hear the confessions of those who would come to him; still minister to them.
Saint Paisius, he had a cell attendant who was very faithful to him. And he says that he would often come in and he would find the elder a bit distressed, weeping. He would say to him, “I couldn’t find my rope.” He had a rope tied up to a beam where he could pick himself up and roll himself over if he needed to. And at times, because he was blind, he couldn’t find the rope. He would be there for hours, languishing. And you can look at this elder’s life, someone who spent his whole life seemingly, right, dedicated to God, purity of heart. And yet he finds his end like this.
And what I find very impressive is that in the midst of his suffering, even though his cell attendant and others would say, “No, no, no, elder, please just rest.” When people would come to him, he would still confess them. He would still confess them. He would still console them. But for this to all make sense, let us be clear what that means. What that means is when those who are looking for consolation, when those who are looking for confession, what do they really need? They need their darkness exposed.
They need their darkness exposed. When we need consolation, when we need healing, it’s because we have darkness that needs to be healed. Not the darkness of other people, our darkness. And so St. Paisius, in a physical darkness and in physical pain, understood this and would labor still to relieve others of their darkness, to expose it. When he died, one of his disciples was in his cell. He looks up and the elder is there with a cross in his hand, his stole. He’s weeping. He says, why are you weeping, elder? Are you hurting? He says, no, I’m weeping for you. I’m weeping for you. I’m weeping because if you can’t weep now, someone needs to weep for you. Use the time you have. You’ll never get it back. He says, use the time you have wisely.
We need to use our time wisely because it’s short. We have no idea how long we have. And more importantly, the time that we’re moving towards is forever. And so the light which we want in that day, that piece of paradise that we want in that day, we need to make sure that we take none of the darkness here with us.
We’ve all been given angels. And they minister and they bear witness before our Father in heaven. Take courage. Take courage. I speak to myself more than I speak to you. Take courage. Our Father has not abandoned us or left us without help. We have angels. And this is why we have Liturgy on Monday. To let them know that we honor them so that they will help us in our darkness, help us in our struggles, help us to attain that little piece of paradise. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.