IV Sunday after Pentecost: "Believe to be healed. Live to be holy."

A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Matthew (Mt 8:5-13):

“At that time, when Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion came to Him, pleading, and said, "Lord, my servant lies at home paralyzed and suffers terribly." Jesus said to him, "I will come and heal him." But the centurion replied, "Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; but only say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me; and I say to one, 'Go,' and he goes; and to another, 'Come,' and he comes; and to my servant, 'Do this,' and he does it." When Jesus heard this, He marveled and said to those following Him, "Truly, I tell you, I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith! I tell you, many will come from east and west and will eat with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the children of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." Then Jesus said to the centurion, "Go; let it be done for you according to your faith." And at that moment, the servant was healed.”

Homily

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all.

Today, the Church, our Mother and Teacher, lovingly leads us to turn our gaze toward a living and active Word, capable of healing the soul, straightening our path, and breathing new hope into weary hearts. This Word resounds in the liturgy of the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, just before the solemn remembrance of the Nativity of the holy prophet and Forerunner John the Baptist—a moment that marks the dawning of a brighter light, that of the Incarnation of the Word of God. In this twofold proclamation, both the First Reading and the Gospel guide us to discover the profound meaning of authentic faith, which frees us from sin and opens us to new life.

The Apostle Paul, in his Letter to the Romans, firmly reminds us that the Christian life is a reality of liberation: “You have been set free from sin and have become slaves of righteousness” (Rom 6:18). This is not merely a change of condition but a true ontological transformation that calls us to live in communion with God in righteousness and holiness. The slavery of sin, with its invisible chains, is broken by baptism, which grafts us into the new life of the risen Christ. Saint John Chrysostom, a master in the interpretation of Scripture, reminds us that “baptism is the door that opens freedom; from slaves of sin we become servants of God and of righteousness, and this servitude is the sign of our true freedom because it makes us partakers of the divine life” (In Epistolam ad Romanos, Homily 25). Similarly, Saint Gregory of Nyssa teaches that “the Christian is one who, having left the servitude of sin, dedicates himself with a pure heart to the service of righteousness, which is the path of the eternal kingdom” (De Vita Moysis, 2).

In this light, the Gospel of Matthew presents us with a living portrait of faith that illuminates every corner of darkness. The Roman centurion, a man of power and authority, approaches Jesus with a heartfelt request: his servant is paralyzed and suffering greatly. What strikes us is his simple yet profound faith, which recognizes in the Lord the power of the Word to perform the miracle without the need for His physical presence. This faith is neither superficial nor formal but is rooted in deep humility: “Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof” (Mt 8:8). This confession of unworthiness, far from distancing him, opens wide the doors of divine grace. Saint Basil the Great teaches us that “humility is the royal way that leads to grace; only those who recognize their inner poverty can receive the riches of God’s mercy” (Epistle 11).

This humility is not weakness but authentic strength; it is not self-denial but the recognition of the truth that only God can heal and save. Saint John Chrysostom further observes that “the centurion is justified not by his works but by his faith, which recognizes the absolute power of the Word of Christ” (In Matthaeum homiliae, 26). He does not demand signs and spectacular miracles but entrusts himself to the simple word of the Lord, knowing that it possesses the power to transform reality.

In this act of faith, we find a universal summons: salvation is not reserved for a privileged few by birth or belonging, but is open to all who believe with sincere hearts. Jesus Himself declares that many will come from east and west and will recline at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the children of the kingdom—those who presume upon their inheritance—will be cast out. Saint Athanasius of Alexandria clearly explains that “it is not natural descent that makes one a child of God, but faith and grace; God welcomes all who entrust themselves to Him with sincerity” (De Incarnatione Verbi Dei, 54).

Thus, the centurion becomes the symbol of all humanity awaiting salvation without arrogance, kneeling not to compel God, but to entrust themselves wholly to Him. His faith challenges us—us who, despite having received the Sacraments and preserving the Tradition of the holy Fathers, risk living a lukewarm faith, incapable of embracing the power of the Word without reserve or condition.

How many of us desire healing, yet hesitate to surrender our lives completely to God? How many call upon miracles, but do not bow down in the humility of the heart? Saint Gregory of Nazianzus admonishes us: “Do not seek signs in order to believe, but believe in order to receive signs; faith is the light that opens the gates of heaven” (Oration 38). It is this light that is given to us today—the light of faith that heals, liberates, and makes us partakers of eternal life.

During a recent pilgrimage to Italy, I too experienced a moment of deep prayer within the Holy House of Loreto—the very House of Nazareth where the Most Holy Virgin received the annunciation from the Archangel Gabriel, and where the eternal Word became flesh in her most pure womb by the operation of the Holy Spirit. This blessed dwelling, miraculously transported from the Holy Land in the 13th century and now reverently preserved in the city of Loreto, has been recognized by centuries of Christian piety as one of the holiest sites of divine economy, for within it the visible beginning of our salvation took place.

Though now located in Latin territory, the Holy House speaks powerfully to the heart of every Orthodox believer. For everything within it points to the mystery of the Incarnation—a mystery that stands at the very center not only of world history, but of our Liturgical life, our faith, and the salvation of mankind. In that small sacred space, where stones seem to speak of silence, obedience, and love, I profoundly sensed the living presence of the Theotokos, who wrapped my soul in maternal tenderness and supported me in prayer. Not with words or visions, but with that silent strength that descends from above and brings peace to the heart.

Through her powerful and living intercession, I felt that I was offering to God not only my words, but my whole life—fragile and poor—entrusted into His hands with faith. And in that place, permeated by grace, I understood that true faith requires no outward signs; it is born of listening, humility, and inner surrender. Just as Mary welcomed the Word into her body, so we too are called to become dwelling places of the Word, temples of the Holy Spirit, places of the Lord’s indwelling.

That quiet light I experienced in Loreto is the very same light that shone in the heart of the centurion in the Gospel—a light that still has the power to transfigure our lives today, if only we allow ourselves to be touched by the power of the Word and by the tenderness of the Mother of God.

And now, on the very eve of this Sunday, the path of the Church leads us to the celebration of the Nativity of the Holy Prophet John the Baptist, the Forerunner of the Lord, the greatest born of woman (cf. Mt 11:11). It is as though, stepping out of the Holy House—the place of the Incarnation—we find ourselves already, in the Liturgy, immersed in the voice that precedes it, in the prophecy that prepares the way. For Mary and John, though in different ways, are both guardians of the mystery of Christ: she as Mother, he as Friend of the Bridegroom.

Saint Gregory the Theologian describes John with profound and evocative words: he is “the voice crying in the wilderness, preparatory to the event of salvation” (Oration 39). He was not a miracle-worker in the usual sense, nor did he perform outward signs, and yet he was the man of the greatest sign: to point to the Lamb of God (John 1:29). His ministry was not based on wonders, but on authenticity, humility, and the radical call to conversion. He lived to prepare hearts for the coming of the Savior, to awaken consciences from spiritual slumber, to cast light into the desert of the soul.

In him, all the prophecies of the Old Testament converge and find fulfillment. He is the threshold that joins expectation to fulfillment, the silence of centuries to the Voice of the Word. His birth, which the Church solemnly celebrates tomorrow, is not merely a historical event, but a present and urgent call—to the purification of the heart, to the renunciation of pride, and to faithfulness to the Christ who comes daily.

And thus, from the humility of the House of Nazareth to the voice crying in the wilderness, we are led into a single and undivided mystery: Christ is coming—and He is coming for us. Mary receives Him. John proclaims Him. The centurion believes in Him. And we, today, are called to recognize Him, to welcome Him, and to bear witness to Him.

The life of John the Baptist stands as a shining example of total self-giving. He lived in the desert, far from worldly clamor and power, embodying radical humility and extraordinary prophetic courage. His strong and resolute voice denounced sin and invited all to abandon attachment to the vanities of this world, to recognize the sovereignty of God who comes to restore justice and truth. The Forerunner, with his radical witness, teaches us that true greatness lies in being faithful servants of divine justice, ready to live in renunciation, vigilance, and ongoing conversion.

On the journey of faith, then, we are called to imitate the centurion of the Gospel in humility and full trust in the power of God’s Word. We are exhorted by Paul’s Letter to become servants of righteousness, abandoning the slavery of sin to walk in the freedom of the children of God. At the same time, we must listen to the prophetic voice of John the Baptist, which even today resounds to awaken us from spiritual slumber and call us to authentic and radical conversion.

Brothers and sisters, in this time of grace, let us open wide the doors so that the Word of Christ may enter our homes, our paralyzed souls, our lives weary and burdened by sin and daily cares. May this Word, spoken with infinite power and love, heal us, set us free, and transform us into living witnesses of His mercy and light.

† Archpriest Michele Alberto Del Duca.