Publication. At the gateway to the nativity

This month marks the fiftieth anniversary of Metropolitan Anthony's ordination to the priesthood on 14 November 1948. Not long afterwards he came to England, and in 1949 assumed responsibility for the Patriarchal parish in London. He has served the Church in England ever since. In 1953, under his editorship, a Russian and English language Prikhodsldi Vestnik (Parish Herald) began to appear, the fourth number of which contained a Christmas sermon by the Rector, the then Hieromonk Anthony (Bloom). An English translation is published below to mark half a century of labour in a single vineyard.

Today the Virgin gives birth to Him who is above all being, and the earth offers a cave to Him whom no man can approach. Angels with shepherds give glory, and Magi journey with a star. For unto us is born a young Child, the pre-eternal God.

(Kontakion for the Nativity of the Lord)

We stand at the gateway to the Nativity of Christ. With great joy and amazement we bow down once more before the Incarnation of the Word of God.

Our hearts burn with joy and trembling, hearing the angelic proclamation: 'I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day a Saviour which is Christ the Lord.'

In our thoughts we stand by the cave where once Christ was born, and bow before him – with the pure-hearted shepherds, the wise magi, with righteous Joseph, the Most-holy Virgin Mother of God, the angels and the whole of redeemed creation.

Let us bow down before him, as before God himself who has appeared in the flesh.

Let us bow down before him with tears of thanksgiving and love, of joy and sorrow. For the birth of Christ is for us the beginning of our salvation, the flaming dawn of hope, the gift of eternal life. But for Christ our Saviour, birth was self-emptying, the beginning of his way to the Cross. And the cave where, in the midst of a quiet, frozen night, the eternal God became man, speaks to us of another cave, where after crucifixion and an agonizing death, Joseph and Nicodemus placed his most pure body.

In his great suffering and endurance, Righteous Job cried out: 'Alas! there is no one between me and God, who would put his hand upon us both...'

And the world, which had long ago lost the joy of paradise, waited and waited, waited and matured, while God, 'who at sundry times and in divers manners spoke through the prophets', called his erring children and prepared them to return to their Father's house. But at 'the last day', when 'the fullness of time' had come, he himself came, and became true and perfect man, while yet remaining God, inconceivable, incomprehensible, to bring to God all who are able to love him and believe in the God of love: 'Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light'. As one of our contemporary Athonite podvizhniki has written: 'The heart bursts to speak, the mind is utterly unable to speak, tears do not enable us to speak of how much God loves us'.

Think of that love, that divine love which was revealed in the Incarnation: the Father sends his Son into the world – not to judge the world, but to save the world. So that this joyless, bitter, orphaned world might know love and might believe in love. The Father sends the Son, knowing that he will perish by a cruel death at the hands of those whom he came to save... It is terrible to go to one's death; but who can measure the Father's love, who sent to a certain death his only Love?

And behold – the Son becomes man, obediently, lovingly, freely. He clothes himself in flesh and takes upon himself all the sorrow, all the coldness, and all the anguish of a solitary human life. He accepts in its entirety all the destiny of fallen man, while himself remaining without sin. He becomes the Man of Sorrows. The prophet Isaiah speaks of him: 'He was wounded for our transgressions, and took on himself the sins of our world, and with his stripes we are healed. But he suffered willingly, he was despised, and we esteemed him not – a Man of Sorrows, and acquainted with grief '.

Even for a friend, the Apostle Paul says, one would scarcely agree to die, unless it were for a benefactor... But Christ gave his life for those who hated him just as he gave his life for those who loved him: 'No man taketh my life from me, but I lay it down of myself '. For according to his own inerrant word: 'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends...' And the broad, limitless love of Christ embraces all: 'Father, forgive them', he prayed on the Cross for his tormentors, 'for they know not what they do'. And he – the eternal Life – dies upon the Cross: this inexplicable and terrible mystery of the death of the Deathless One, the mystery of the Tomb – Crucifixion and forgiveness for all... And like an inviolable Law, bright and implacable, the words of the Saviour ring out: 'I have given you an example: follow it. Love one another as I have loved you'.

These words of Christ have not rung out in vain. That commandment of love has been understood and accepted: thousands of believers in Christ have followed after him, repeating with joy after the Apostle Paul: 'Unto us it is given not only to believe, but also to suffer for Christ'. Throngs of martyrs, saints, confessors have sealed with blood their belief in this. And we stand in reverence before them, we preserve carefully their memory... But their struggle belongs to them – not to us. How will we – you and I – respond to the love of God during this festive night and throughout all the days of our life?

Let us bring to him that purity of heart, for which the shepherds were counted worthy to be the first to bow down before the Saviour. For 'blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God'. Let us bring to him, with the wise magi, 'the sparkling glory, the ringing sonority, the stainless purity of gold' which is the beauty hidden in the depth of our souls, extracting it grain by grain, through ceaseless struggle and unfailing patience, from mysterious depths unknown even to ourselves. Let us also bring to Christ, from an upright heart and with unfeigned lips, pure prayer and steadfast uprightness and fearless faith. Let us trust in him, each according to the measure of his powers – but with all his powers, without guile, without reserve, never turning back, and with an integral, undivided heart.

But before all let us bring to him the gift of our love: let us become one with him through love; the love of Christ, that love of Christ which nothing can overcome. Let us love that world for which he gave his life. Let us love each person as he loved us and taught us to love. Let us enter life with the army of Christ – with new hope and new strength. Let us bring into this cold world our fiery, conquering joy, so that every soul, every creature may dance, so that fear may be dispelled from all, so that the light of Christ may illumine all, so that with one mouth and one heart we may cry out to all: 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will among men! Amen!

Thy Nativity, O Christ our God, has shone upon the world with the light of knowledge: for thereby they who adored the stars through a star were taught to worship Thee, the Sun of Righteousness, and to know Thee the Dayspring from on hight. O Lord, glory to Thee.

(Troparion for the Nativity of the Lord)

Sourozh 1998. N. 74. P.1–3