Podcasts about Great Lent

Philippians 4:4-9; John 12:1-18 Palm Sunday reveals both our love for Christ and our temptation to abandon Him when He does not meet our expectations. This homily invites us to see ourselves in the Gospel, to embrace the deeper work of transformation, and to follow the King who leads us not to comfort, but to life through the Cross. --- Palm Sunday Homily 2026 For the Jews two thousand years ago, today was the culmination of their long waiting: the Messiah had come to save them. "Hosanna in the Highest! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord—the King of Israel!" It is a great day for us as well—the end of Great Lent, the celebration of Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem. We take up the first fruits of spring—palm leaves and pussy willows—not just as decoration, but as a sign of renewal. The winter of waiting is over. Christ has come among His people. As the Church sings in the Triodion: "Today the grace of the Holy Spirit has gathered us together, and we all take up Thy Cross and say: Blessed is He that comes in the name of the Lord." And more than that: He has come into our lives. This feast is not only about what happened in Jerusalem long ago. It is about the moment when Christ entered into our own story—when we first recognized Him as Lord, when we opened our hearts to Him, when we felt the relief of His presence. For many of us, that moment was marked by healing: the easing of despair, the forgiveness of sins, the restoration of hope. And so we cried out: "Hosanna in the Highest—the King has come to save!" Not just Israel. Me. But here is where the Gospel becomes dangerous for us. Because the people who cried "Hosanna" were not wrong to rejoice. They were wrong about what that joy meant. They loved Christ because He met their expectations. He healed the sick. He raised the dead. He gave them hope that their visible, worldly problems would be solved. Of course they loved Him. And we do the same. We love Christ when He meets our expectations:   when He brings peace   when He answers prayers the way we want   when He restores what we think should be restored We love the Church for the same reason:   when it comforts us   when it feels like home   when it confirms what we already believe We cry "Hosanna" when Christ—and His Body, the Church—fit into the life we already want. But then something happens. Christ moves beyond our expectations. He refuses to remain what we first loved Him for. And here the Church gives us words that both celebrate and correct us. In the hymns of this feast, we sing: "Seated in heaven upon Thy throne and on earth upon a colt, O Christ God, Thou hast accepted the praise of the angels and the song of the children who cried unto Thee: Blessed art Thou who hast come to call back Adam." He comes as King—but not the kind of king we expect. He comes not to confirm our plans—but to restore Adam. And this is why Lent has prepared us. All through the season, in the Great Canon of St. Andrew of Crete, we have been taught how to read Scripture: "I alone have sinned against Thee." "I am the one who has fallen." We are not spectators in the Gospel. We are participants. So when the crowd turns from "Hosanna" to rejection— we do not say, "they did this." We say: "I am capable of this." We are the ones who welcome Christ when He fits our expectations —and are tempted to abandon Him when He does not. And this is not just about Christ in abstraction.   It is about Christ in His Body—the Church. We love the Church when it gives us what we expect:      beauty      stability      meaning But when the Church calls us to something harder—      to repentance      to forgiveness      to self-denial —we can become disappointed. Even resistant. Even tempted to step back. But that later moment—the moment of disappointment— is often more important than the moment of joy. Because that is the moment when Christ is no longer fitting into our life— He is transforming it. And this transformation is not accidental. As Maximus the Confessor teaches, the spiritual life is the purification and reordering of our desires. We begin by loving God for what He gives us—but we are called to love Him for Himself. What begins as expectation must be healed into communion. We see this even in the Liturgy. In the Great Entrance, Christ comes among us. He is received with honor and reverence. But then a turn is made; the stairs up the amvon to the altar     are the mountain of Golgotha. And His throne is revealed—not as a seat of earthly glory— but as an altar of sacrifice. And the hymns of this Great Feast prepare us even for this. We sing: "Today the Master of creation and the Lord of glory enters Jerusalem seated on a colt. He hastens to His Passion, to fulfill the Law and the Prophets." The One we welcomed in joy— is already going to the Cross. This is the truth the crowd did not expect. And it is the truth we struggle with. Christ does not come simply to solve our problems. He comes to transform us. Not to meet our expectations— but to purify them. Not to give us the life we imagined— but to give us His life. So today we are given a choice. When Christ meets our expectations, we rejoice. But when He overturns them—when He exceeds them—when He leads us through the Cross—      what will we do then?      Will we turn away?      Or will we follow Him still? Some saw this day as the end—the fulfillment of everything they had hoped for. But it was not the end. It was the beginning. The beginning of a path that leads through suffering, through death— and into resurrection. So do not make your heart a place that welcomes Christ only on your terms. Do not turn your heart into a tomb for the King. Let it be His throne. Receive Him not only in triumph—but in sacrifice. Not only in consolation—but in transformation. Because He will not remain what we expect. And thanks be to God— He will become something far greater. "Let us also, like the children, bear the symbols of victory, and cry out to the Conqueror of death: Hosanna in the highest! Blessed is He that comes in the name of the Lord."

Today we are reflecting on a critical transition in the life of the Church: the movement from Great Lent into Holy Week and then into the feast of Pascha. As we'll see, this is not just a change in calendar or intensity, but a shift in focus—from repentance centered on ourselves to full immersion in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ.

The Sunday of St. Mary of Egypt The life of St. Mary of Egypt shows that healing begins when we are willing to let go of what we think we cannot live without. Her struggle with memory and desire mirrors our own battles with distraction and constant stimulation. In these final weeks of Lent, we are invited to simplify our lives, endure the discomfort, and turn again toward the peace that comes from God. --- Today the Church gives us one of the most extreme lives in all of Christian history: St. Mary of Egypt. And if we are not careful, we will put her at a distance. We will say: "That's not me." "That's not my struggle." "That's not my life." But the Church does not give her to us as a curiosity. She gives her to us as a mirror. Mary began in complete disorder. Not gradually. Not reluctantly. She threw herself into a life of passion—seeking pleasure, attention, and control. And she is very clear: she was not even doing it for money. She was doing it because she wanted it, because she loved it, because it gave her a sense of freedom. And then comes the turning point. She tries to enter the Church in Jerusalem—to venerate the Cross. And she cannot. An invisible force prevents her. Everyone else walks in. She cannot. And suddenly, she sees—not just what she has done, but what she has become. That moment breaks her. Not into despair—but into repentance. She turns to the Mother of God, asks for mercy, and is finally allowed to enter. She venerates the Cross. And then she leaves—not just the Church, but the world. She goes into the desert. And here is where we often misunderstand her life. We imagine peace, clarity, instant transformation. But that is not what she experienced. Listen to her own words. She says that in the desert she was tormented by the memory of her old life: "The mad desire for songs and wine seized me… I longed to sing obscene songs… the memory of the things I was accustomed to filled my soul with great turmoil." She had left everything behind, but everything had not yet left her. And this is important. Because it tells us: removing ourselves from temptation does not immediately remove temptation from us. For years—years—she struggled. With memory, with desire, with imagination, with everything she had fed her soul. But she stayed. She endured. And over time, something changed. The passions lost their power. The memories lost their sweetness. And she found something greater: peace, clarity, freedom, union with God. Now here is where we need to be careful. Because it is very easy to say: "Well, that's her. She was dealing with extreme passions." But we are not so different. We also live in a world of constant stimulation—constant input, constant distraction. Not through wine and song in the same way, but through something else: social media, endless news cycles, commentary, outrage, entertainment, noise. And we do not just encounter these things. We consume them. We return to them. We depend on them. And like St. Mary, we often tell ourselves: "This is freedom." But what happens when we try to step away—even for a little while? We feel it. The pull. The habit. The restlessness. The desire to check, to scroll, to see what we are missing. And here is the question that reveals everything: what do we think we are missing? Because this is where the illusion lies. We think: "If I am not plugged in—if I am not consuming—if I am not aware of everything—then my life is being wasted." But St. Mary shows us the opposite. From the outside, her life looks wasted. No productivity, no recognition, no audience, no relevance. And yet—she becomes radiant with holiness, clear in mind, free in heart, alive in God. So now the question turns: whose life is wasted? The one who withdraws from distraction and struggles toward freedom, or the one who is constantly stimulated but never at peace? St. Mary did not lose her life in the desert. She found it—but only after enduring the pain of letting go. And this is where her life meets ours—very concretely, especially now. Because we are in Great Lent. And Lent is given to us for exactly this purpose: to simplify, to remove distractions, to reorder our lives toward God. Many people focus on food. And that is good. But it is only part of the pattern. Because for most of us, our greater excess is not meat and dairy. It is stimulation. And this is part of why the fast exists. Fasting is not just about what we give up. It is about what is revealed. When we fast from food, something happens. Our system is stressed. We feel hunger. We feel irritation. We feel weakness. And suddenly, we begin to notice our thoughts, our habits, our reactions. The fast makes visible what is usually hidden. And this is not a failure. This is its purpose. Now consider this: if fasting from food reveals this much, what might happen if we fast from stimulation? If we step away from constant input, constant scrolling, constant reaction? For most of us, this will be even more revealing—because this is where we are most attached. And so here is a simple challenge. We have two weeks left before Pascha. Two weeks. And in two weeks, we will hear that the Lord receives even the one who comes at the eleventh hour. So let us use this time well. For these next two weeks: simplify. Deliberately. Intentionally. Greatly reduce the time you spend on your devices—not a little, greatly. You will feel the pull. You will feel the temptation. You will feel the restlessness. That is not a sign that something is wrong. That is the point. It reveals what has taken hold of us. And like St. Mary, you may find that even when the external stimulus is gone, the memory remains. But stay. Endure. Redirect. Return. Because the same principle applies: what we repeatedly attend to forms us. If we fill our minds with noise, we will become restless. If we fill our hearts with distraction, we will become fragmented. But if we endure, if we simplify, if we turn toward God, then slowly, quietly, something changes. The noise loses its power. The pull weakens. And we begin to taste something better: peace, clarity, the presence of God. And so we end with this: St. Mary was not missing out. She was being healed. The world says: "Stay connected. Stay informed. Stay engaged." The Gospel says: "Be still—and know God." So again: whose life is wasted?  

Today on this the 4th Sunday of Great Lent, we hear about a young man (who was brought to Christ by his father), who suffered with foaming of the mouth, grinding of teeth, what would be diagnosed today as a form of epilepsy.  We then hear in a dialogue the father of the child state to Christ “I believe, help my unbelief”.What does this event in the ministry of our Lord have to do with us on our Lenten Journey?Why couldn't the disciples heal the young man?What does Christ tell His disciples?Listen…

The Sunday of the Ladder reminds us that the Christian life is not a sprint, but a long obedience marked by small, repeated acts of faithfulness. St. John shows that the real struggle takes place in our thoughts, where healing begins with recognizing them and learning to turn back to Christ. Step by step, through endurance and humility, the heart is purified and made capable of peace. Sunday of the Ladder Winning the Battle of Thoughts In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Today the Church gives us St. John Climacus—St. John of the Ladder. And she gives him to us right here, in the middle of Great Lent. Not at the beginning, when everything feels fresh. Not at the end, when Pascha is in sight. But here. When we are a little tired. A little worn down. Maybe a little discouraged. And that is not accidental. Because St. John is not here to inspire us with dramatic moments. He is here to teach us how to keep going. St. John was a monk, writing for monks. And sometimes we hear that and think: "Well, that's not for me." But that's not how the Church reads him. The Church puts him in front of all of us and says: this is what the spiritual life looks like. Not because we are all called to live in monasteries—but because we are all called to be healed, to be purified, to be united to God. We are all, in that sense, spiritual athletes. And the Ladder is not a museum piece. It is a training manual. Now here is something we have to get clear right away. The Ladder is not a sprint, a quick transformation, or a series of glorious spiritual breakthroughs. It is a lifetime slog. Step by step. Fall, get up. Fall, get up again. No drama. No shortcuts. Just faithfulness. And this is where many people get discouraged. Because we want clarity, peace, and victory—and we want it quickly. But St. John shows us something different. The spiritual life is not built on big moments. It is built on small, repeated acts of faithfulness. So where does that struggle take place? Not primarily out there. Not in circumstances, other people, or events. But in here—in our thoughts. Think about your own experience. How much of your energy goes into replaying conversations, imagining arguments, worrying about what might happen, remembering what did happen, getting distracted in prayer, getting distracted in conversation—getting distracted, pulled away from what matters, from our responsibilities, from love. Most of our spiritual life is decided before we ever act—long before anyone else sees it—and often long before we notice it ourselves. At the level of thought. Now we need to say something very important. A thought is not a sin. Thoughts come. They arise. They pass through. You are not responsible for everything that appears in your mind. There are crazy people living within everyone's mind. No, you are not responsible for everything that appears in your mind—but you are responsible for what you do with it. Because the difference between peace and chaos often comes down to a very small moment: what do I do with this thought? Let me give you three very simple rules for dealing with intrusive thoughts. Not easy—but simple. Do not enter into conversation with them. When a bad thought comes, do not engage it, do not analyze it, do not argue with it, do not "just think about it for a second." Because once you start that conversation, you've already lost. Do not identify with them. Instead, you say: "This is not me. This is a thought passing through. This is normal. This happens all the time." That concept alone creates space. The resulting separation creates freedom. Redirect immediately. Don't wrestle—replace. Turn your attention to prayer, to a psalm, to something concrete, to crossing yourself, to saying "Lord, have mercy." Again and again. The teaching is clear—this is not where we need new insight. The difficulty is in doing it—this is where we need endurance. Because this is where the real work is. St. John says in Step 26 on discernment: "The beginning of salvation is the recognition of thoughts." Not controlling everything. Not fixing everything. Just recognizing—seeing thoughts clearly. Yes, that is where the healing of our minds—the salvation—begins. And most of us don't even get that far. Because we are already inside the thought, carried within it, buoyed along by the current of our emotions. We are already moving downstream, sometimes far downstream, before we even notice. In Step 4, speaking about obedience, St. John says: "Obedience is the burial of the will and the resurrection of humility." Now that sounds very monastic. But apply it here, to your life in the world. Every time you refuse a thought, every time you redirect, you are practicing obedience. You are saying: "I will not follow this. I will follow Christ." And that commitment does not happen once. It happens ten times, fifty times, a hundred times a day—quietly, unseen. Small victories that grow into a habit of victory. This is the Ladder. In Step 15, on purity, St. John says: "A pure mind sees things as they are." That's the goal. Not just avoiding bad thoughts—but becoming the kind of person whose perception has been healed. Because right now, our thoughts are not neutral. They are shaped by fear, pride, habit, passion—even something as simple as what we had for dinner last night. Please accept this: in our fallen state, we don't see reality clearly. We interpret everything through the distorted landscape of our minds—uneven, shadowed, and unstable. And the work of guarding our thoughts—slowly, patiently—allows Christ to begin to level that ground, so that what is crooked becomes straight and what is confused becomes clear. Not the clarity of desire or pride, but of Truth. Now, the fathers speak about this very strictly—especially in the monastery. And we might hear this and think: "Well, I'm not a monk." And that's true. But that does not mean the struggle is different. It means the context is different. As Metropolitan Saba has emphasized: the parish and the monastery are not competing paths. They are parallel paths. Same goal. Same healing. Same Christ. Different context. The struggle is the same. The setting is different. In the monastery, the structure supports watchfulness. In our lives, we have to build that structure ourselves—in our homes, our work, our friendships, through habits of sacrificial love, prayer, and worship. Let's be very clear about one more thing. You cannot drift up the Ladder. We don't expect strength without exercise or knowledge without study—but somehow we expect peace without discipline. Guarding your thoughts is work. Redirecting your attention is training. And this is why it feels like a slog. Because it is. It is the long, slow slog of our salvation. So what does this look like in practice? When you are replaying a conversation—stop. Do not continue. Distract yourself and focus on something else—something less destructive, something more useful. When anxiety starts spiraling—cut it early. Not later—early. Even a small, deliberate act of joy—something as simple as a change in expression—can give us enough freedom to return to the source of all joy. When you are standing in prayer and your mind wanders—don't chase it. Return. Immediately. Be comforted and instructed by their truth, and the way they connect you with the source of all truth. This is where endurance comes in—not in overpowering thoughts, but in returning again and again to what is good, what is beautiful, what is true. And now we come back to the image: the Ladder. You do not fall all at once. You do not rise all at once. You ascend—or descend—one thought at a time. Not in dramatic moments, but in quiet decisions, repeated daily over a lifetime. And this is the encouragement. If you feel like this is slow—it is. If you feel like this is repetitive—it is. If you feel like this is a slog—it is. But this is how we are healed. Not in flashes of glory, but in steady faithfulness. Because the Ladder is not climbed in monasteries alone. It is climbed in the hidden work of the heart. And when that work is done—even a little—we begin to live and to serve with clarity, with peace, and with joy. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

On this 3rd Sunday of Great Lent, the Church places the focus and offers the support of the Holy Cross to her faithful.  Is the Cross something we just wear around our neck?  Is it just something to do before we kiss an icon?Listen…

Today’s Topics: 1) Make a realistic Lenten sacrifice that brings us closer to Christ 2) We are not alone in our journey – Remember, we are walking with Christ 3) Ask Christ what our mission is 4) It’s okay to mourn the loss of worldly things as we submit to God’s will 5) When we think we have reached spiritual heights, be ready to be tempted

Great Lent 2026; Sunday of the Cross "Whoever desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me." (Matthew 16:24) Christ is talking as if "coming after" or "following" Him is something good. What is that all about? Where is He going? Where is He leading us? Christ talks about "denying" ourselves. In the next verse He ties that to being willing to die. This sounds important. We need to get it right. There is a great lie in our world: that all religions are basically the same. But Scripture warns us that the devil himself can appear as an angel of light (2 Corinthians 11:14). So it is not enough simply to have faith in something. Why in the world are there so many warnings in the Bible about idolatry? Some people focus on sexual sin. But even Scripture often uses sexual sin as a metaphor for something even worse: worshipping false gods. One is bad—but the other is worse. Just as marriage is good, but union with God is even greater. So we need to get this cross thing right. Is it just about perseverance? Everyone has their own cross to bear? Well… kind of. But even that needs to be grounded. We are not simply stoics. If we are stoics at all, we are stoics of a very particular kind. So what is the cross? Yes, it involves pain. But not just any pain. Look to the prototype. We are Christians, and Christ is our standard. His cross was painful—but it was pain put to a purpose. It was sacrificial. He gave Himself as a sacrifice. And all sacrifice involves something valuable—something costly, something difficult. Pain can be like that. The cross was Christ's sacrifice on behalf of the people and the world that He loved. That gives us something to work with. Taking up our cross means doing things that are hard on behalf of others. At the very least, it means denying what we might prefer so that others can thrive. For Christ, that meant leaving the place where He was given the glory and honor that was His due and coming to live in a world where He would be disrespected, misunderstood, and even tortured and killed. And He did it so that we—the ones He loves—could join Him in eternal glory. When we voluntarily sacrifice our time, when we put up with people who misunderstand us, who may not value us, who may never fully appreciate what we are doing—and we do it out of a desire for their health and salvation … … then we are taking up our cross and following Christ into glory. So be patient when your ego tells you to lash out. Be courageous when your instincts tell you to hide. Figure out what love requires in each moment—and then dedicate yourself to it. In addition to patience and courage, this requires paying attention. It requires humility. It requires dedication to the needs of the moment. And it surely won't be easy. But this is the cup that our Lord accepted in the Garden of Gethsemane—the cup that led to the salvation of the world. And when we drink of that cup, we are united to Him through His passion on the Cross. But we must remember something very important. The cross is not the end of the story. Christ did not go to the cross in order to remain in the grave. He went through the cross into resurrection. And this is exactly where the Church is leading us during Great Lent. We are walking the road of the cross now so that we may stand together in the light of Pascha. Our Lord Himself told us how this works: "Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." In Christ, the cross is never the final word. What passes through the cross is changed. We die with Him so that we may live with Him. Buried with Him in death, we rise with Him into newness of life. As St. Maximus the Confessor says, "The one who participates in Christ's sufferings also shares in His glory." Suffering offered in love becomes glory. Sacrifice becomes participation in His life. And even death becomes the doorway to life. This is the mystery the Church sings every year at Pascha: Yesterday I was buried with Thee, O Christ;today I arise with Thee in Thy resurrection. This is where Christ is leading us. Through the cross. Into resurrection. So when the moment comes—and it will come—when love requires something difficult from you, do not be afraid of the cross. Take it up. Follow Him. Because on the other side of the cross is life— life with Christ, life with all the saints, and life in the glory of the Kingdom.  

Great Lent is not a private self-improvement program; it is the Church's shared praxis of becoming the Body of Christ through fasting, prayer, and worship. Fathers Harry and Anthony connect the “cloud of witnesses” (Hebrews 11–12) to Orthodox intercession, icons, and the liturgical convergence of heaven and earth—then press the pastoral point: let Lent actually re-form your habits, especially your relationship to media, noise, and distraction.

He was born in Rome to a wealthy senatorial family. He received a good education in secular and spiritual learning, and became Prefect of Rome. While still in the world, he used his great wealth mostly for the good of the Church, building six monasteries in Sicily and another in Rome itself. At this monastery, dedicated to the Apostle Andrew, Gregory was tonsured a monk. He was appointed Archdeacon of Rome, then, in 579, Papal legate to Constantinople, where he lived for nearly seven years. He returned to Rome in 585 and was elected Pope in 590.   He is famed for his many writings, his generous charity (he gave almost all his income to the poor, and often invited the poor to share his table), and for initiating missionary work among the Anglo-Saxon peoples. The Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts, celebrated on Wednesday and Friday evenings during Great Lent, was compiled by him. St Gregory introduced elements of the chanting that he had heard in Constantinople into Western Church chant: The Gregorian Chant which beautified the Western churches for many years is named for him. Its system of modes is related to the eight tones of the Eastern church. He is called 'the Dialogist' after his book The Dialogues, an account of the lives and miracles of Italian saints.   Saint Gregory reposed in peace in 604.

He was born in Damascus to an eminent family, and was well educated in his youth. Discontented with the wisdom of the world, he entered monastic life in the monastery of St Theodosius, where he became the lifelong friend and disciple of John Moschos. Together they visited the monasteries and hermitages of Egypt; they later wrote down their discoveries among the holy monks in the classic Spiritual Meadow. After the death of his teacher, St Sophronius traveled to Jerusalem, which had just been liberated from the Persians. He was there to see the Precious Cross returned from Persia by the Emperor Heraclius, who carried it into Jerusalem on his back. A few years later, in 634, St Sophronius was elected Patriarch of Jerusalem, where he served his flock wisely for three years and three months. He was zealous in the defense of Orthodoxy against the Monothelite heresy: He convoked a Council in Jerusalem which condemned it before it was condemned at the Sixth Ecumenical Council. The holy Patriarch even traveled to Constantinople to rebuke the Patriarch Sergius and Emperor Heraclius, who had embraced the Monothelite error.   The years of peace were few for the Holy Land; for just as the Persian Empire was decisively defeated by Heraclius, the followers of Islam erupted out of Arabia, conquering most of North Africa and the Middle East in a few years. The Saint was so grieved by the capture of Jerusalem in 637 by the Caliph Omar that begged God to take him, so that he might not live to see the desecration of the holy places. His prayer was granted, and he reposed in peace less than a year later.   St Sophronios is the author of the Life of Saint Mary of Egypt, appointed to be read in the churches during every Great Lent. He also wrote the service of the Great Blessing of the Waters. Some have attributed the Vesperal hymn "Gladsome Light" to him, but we know that it dates from before the time of St Basil the Great, who mentions it in his writings. It seems though, that St Sophronios supplemented the hymn, and that its present form is due to him.

Passages from the beginning to the end of the book of the prophet Isaiah are prescribed for us in the lectionary all through Great Lent. We introduce Isaiah and probe four matching themes in chapters 1-7, seeing their connection with Paul's letters in particular, where he deals with the human problem and God's remedies for it.

​​1. TO SUPPORT this Orthodox Christian ministry and the digitisation of our many cassette-tapes for new podcasts, please visit us at the BUY ME A COFFEE support platform: ​​ http://buymeacoffee.com/octeaching2. TO FIND THE TITLES AND LINKS for all our podcasts, please visit our podcast directory. Just search for ‘Orthodox Christian Teaching Podcast Directory' in the Apple Podcasts app or in the podcasts section of the Spotify app OR search for ‘Orthodox Christian Teaching' in the Apple Podcasts app or the Spotify app,3. DIRECT LINKS to the ORTHODOX CHRISTIAN TEACHING PODCAST DIRECTORY:​On the APPLE PODCASTS app:https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/orthodox-christian-teaching-podcast-directory/id1680765527On the SPOTIFY app:https://open.spotify.com/show/1ALQ9YkJ0hhZ20GGZv7MH9?si=hVv_aqKtSrypyTLr1YZQIQ

Gospel Reading: John 1:43-51At that time, Jesus decided to go to Galilee. And he found Philip and said to him, "Follow me." Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. Philip found Nathanael, and he said to him, "We have found him of whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph." Nathanael said to him, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" Philip said to him, "Come and see." Jesus saw Nathanael coming to him, and said of him, "Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile!" Nathanael said to him, "How do you know me?" Jesus answered him, "Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you." Nathanael answered him, "Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!" Jesus answered him, "Because I said to you, I saw you under the fig tree, do you believe? You shall see greater things than these." And he said to him, "Truly, truly, I say to you, you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man."

​​1. TO SUPPORT this Orthodox Christian ministry and the digitisation of our many cassette-tapes for new podcasts, please visit us at the BUY ME A COFFEE support platform: ​​ http://buymeacoffee.com/octeaching2. TO FIND THE TITLES AND LINKS for all our podcasts, please visit our podcast directory. Just search for ‘Orthodox Christian Teaching Podcast Directory' in the Apple Podcasts app or in the podcasts section of the Spotify app OR search for ‘Orthodox Christian Teaching' in the Apple Podcasts app or the Spotify app,3. DIRECT LINKS to the ORTHODOX CHRISTIAN TEACHING PODCAST DIRECTORY:​On the APPLE PODCASTS app:https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/orthodox-christian-teaching-podcast-directory/id1680765527On the SPOTIFY app:https://open.spotify.com/show/1ALQ9YkJ0hhZ20GGZv7MH9?si=hVv_aqKtSrypyTLr1YZQIQ

Forgiveness is at the core of the Christian Faith, and because of this we cannot begin the journey of Great Lent - in growing closer to Christ through prayer, fasting and almsgiving - which begins with seeking and granted forgiveness.Then it can be a "Clean Monday" (this is what the first day of Great Lent is called) for all who follow this format of forgivness!Listen...

Listen to Fr. Timothy's Sunday sermon.www.stsa.church

Today we're bringing you an episode with Esau McCaulley, from the Lenten season of 2023. Esau sees Lent as a practice of collective generational wisdom, passed down through centuries of sacramental rhythms—but as a contemporary reality, Lent is a spiritual rebellion against mainstream American culture. He construes Lent as a season of repentance and grace; he points out the justice practices of Lent; he walks through a Christian understanding of death, and the beautiful practice of stripping the altars on Maundy Thursday; and he's emphatic about how it's a guided season of pursuing the grace to find (or perhaps return) to yourself as God has called you to be. In his classic text, Great Lent, Orthodox priest and theologian Alexander Schmemann calls this season one of “bright sadness”—an important paradox that represents both Christian realism and hope. Lent is not about gloom, self-loathing, performative penitence, or despair. Instead it brings us face to face with our human condition, reminding us that we did not bring ourselves into being and someday we will die, sober about the reality and banality of evil, and sorrowful in a way that leads back to joy. Esau McCaulley is The Jonathan Blanchard Associate Professor of New Testament and Public Theology at Wheaton College, a contributing writer for the New York Times, and is author of many books, including children's books. Notables are Reading While Black, a theology of Lent, and his latest: How Far to the Promised Land: One Black Family's Story of Hope and Survival in the American South. This episode was made possible in part by the generous support of the Tyndale House Foundation. For more information, visit tyndale.foundation. About Esau McCaulley Esau McCaulley is The Jonathan Blanchard Associate Professor of New Testament and Public Theology at Wheaton College, a contributing writer for the New York Times, and is author of many books, including children's books. Notables are Reading While Black, a theology of Lent, and his latest: How Far to the Promised Land: One Black Family's Story of Hope and Survival in the American South. Learn more at https://esaumccaulley.com/. Show Notes Lent: The Season of Repentance and Renewal — https://esaumccaulley.com/books/lent-book/ Commodifying our rebellion—the agency on offer is a thin, weakened agency. Repentance, grace, and finding (or returning to) yourself Examination of conscience The Great Litany: “For our blindness to human need and suffering, and our indifference to injustice and cruelty. Except our repentance, Lord.” The beauty of Christianity “Liturgical spirituality is not safe. God can jump out and get you at any moment in the service.” “The great thing about the, the, the season of Blend in the liturgical calendar more broadly is it gives you a thousand different entry points into transformation.” Lent is bookended by death. Black death, Coronavirus death, War death. Jesus defeated death as our great enemy. “Everybody that I know and I care about are gonna die. Everybody.” “I, as a Christian, believe that because we're going to die. our lives are of infinite value and the decisions that we make and the kinds of people we become are the only testimony that we have and that I have chosen to, to, in light of my impending death, put my faith in the one who overcame death.” Two realities: We're going to die and Jesus defeated death. Stripping of the Altars on Maundy Thursday. Silent processional in black; Good Friday celebrates no eucharist. “I'm, like, the one Pauline scholar who doesn't like to argue about justification all of the time.” Good Friday's closing prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, son of the living God, we pray you to set your passion cross and death between your judgment and our souls.” “You end Lent with: Something has to come between God's judgement and our souls. And that thing is Jesus.” “Lent is God loving you enough to tell you the truth about yourself, but not condemning you for it, but actually saying that you can be better than that.” Production Notes This podcast featured Esau McCaulley Edited and Produced by Evan Rosa Hosted by Evan Rosa Production Assistance by Macie Bridge, Luke Stringer, and Kaylen Yun. A Production of the Yale Center for Faith & Culture at Yale Divinity School https://faith.yale.edu/about Support For the Life of the World podcast by giving to the Yale Center for Faith & Culture: https://faith.yale.edu/give Acknowledgements This episode was made possible in part by the generous support of Blueprint 1543. For more information, visit http://blueprint1543.org/.

On today's Bible Answer Man broadcast (02/23/26), Hank celebrates the beginning of the Lenten season, with today being Clean Monday, a day in which we are to leave behind our sinful attitudes. Hank stresses the importance of fasting, one of the predominant themes of the Great Lent. The stomach is like an undisciplined child, forever demanding its fill of empty calories. The discipline of fasting restores one's balance and self-control.Hank also answers the following questions:How can I overcome sin through the power of the Spirit according to Ephesians? Jared - Kansas City, KS (6:03)I've heard you say the flames of hell aren't literal, so do you believe the waters of the flood covered the entire earth? Brian - Muskogee, OK (8:50)Do you know anything about God sending Moses and Ezekiel back to preach the Word? Mark - Kalamazoo, MI (15:41)Are the two natures of Christ easy to understand? Mike - Boone, IA (19:39)

We can't enter Great Lent without forgiveness in our heart.

On the cusp of Great Lent, we are called to three challenges. All three challenges have one thing in common. We are called to forgive, fast and be generous, all to prepare our hearts for God. Great Lent isn't about food and prostration. Great Lent is about changing our hearts for God.

Hour 3 for 2/19/26 Guest-host John Harper speaks with Dr. David Tomasi about understanding transgenderism (3:41), autism (8:52), transitioning (14:29), how families respond (17:57), and Richard Dawkins (20:30). Then, John discusses great Lents (27:37) and great Lenten recipes like roasted Zucchini (34:54), orange noodles (40:36), and parish fish fries (41:50). Link: https://nortades.com/

On today's Bible Answer Man broadcast (02/18/26), Hank notes that today is Ash Wednesday, which is the beginning of the forty days of preparation for celebrating the death, burial, and resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. During this time, Christians remember our sinfulness, we repent, we ask for God's forgiveness, and we recognize that God's forgiveness comes at an infinite price—the death of Jesus Christ on the cross on our behalf. Hank also discusses Clean Monday, which is part of the Eastern Church's observance of the Great Lent that will be observed this coming Monday.Hank also answers the following questions:Which historian was the first to mention the Gospels? Jason - Harrisburg, PA (6:24)If Jesus died on a Friday and rose on Sunday, isn't that just two days? Jason - Harrisburg, PA (7:12)Could you clarify your statement on the doctrine of 'once saved, always saved'? Jonathan - Calgary, AB (8:57)I've had someone question me about Christ being in the grave for three days; would you mind explaining that? Kurt - Spokane, WA (16:08)What would have happened if Adam and Eve had not eaten the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil? Keith - Kalamazoo, MI (18:57)I believe the Church misunderstands the timing of the day of preparation and Jesus' crucifixion. Tracy - Hayden, ID (21:59)

The Greek Tyron means "conscript." This holy Martyr of Christ came from Pontus and was a Roman legionary during Maximian's persecution (~303). Though he had been a Christian since childhood, he kept his faith secret while in the army. While his cohort was stationed near a town called Euchaita, he learned that the people there were being terrorized by a dragon which lived in the neighboring forest. He set off to face the dragon, praying to God that the outcome of the contest would be a sign to him of whether the time had come to offer himself for martyrdom. He found the fire-spitting monster and, arming himself with the sign of the Cross, drove his spear through its head and killed it.   His success convinced him that, having vanquished this fleshly dragon, he was ready to vanquish the spiritual dragon, the Devil. When the commander of his camp next ordered a sacrifice to the Gods, Theodore boldly refused, saying "I am a Christian!" Further, he encouraged the other Christians in his company to do the same. That night he went to a nearby pagan temple of Rhea, mother of the gods, and burned it down. He was seen by the caretaker of the temple and was brought unresisting to the governor Publius. Theodore was thrown into a solitary dungeon cell; there he refused bread and water, saying that Christ had promised him food from heaven. He spent his time there chanting hymns with the angels, so that the guards were convinced that other Christians had somehow joined him in his cell.   When all argument, cajolery, bribery and threat had failed to turn the soldier from Christ, the governor resorted to torture, subjecting the Saint to terrible mutilations; but when Theodore endured them calmly and resolutely, the governor began to fear that his example would encourage other Christians, and ordered that he be burned. Taken to the stake, the Martyr walked freely into the flames, where he gave back his soul to God. When his body was ransomed and taken from the ashes by a pious Christian, it was found to be untouched. A church was built in Euchaita in honor of the Martyr; many pilgrims came there for the healing of soul and body.   In 361, the Emperor Julian the Apostate ordered the Prefect of Constantinople to have all foods in the marketplaces sprinkled with blood of animals sacrificed to the pagan gods during the first week of Lent, so that Christians would be unable to escape contact with idolatry. But St Theodore appeared in a vision to Patriarch Eudoxius (360-364), warned him of the plan and told him to instruct his flock not to buy any food in the marketplace, but to eat kolyva made from boiled wheat grains. So, through the Saint's intervention, the people were preserved from the stain of idolatry. Ever since, the Church has commemorated the miracle on the first Saturday of Great Lent. Since that time kolyva has come to be offered also in honor of the Saints and in memory of the departed. The whole grain represents the body, sown corruptible, which will be raised incorruptible (2 Cor. 15:37); it is usually sweetened with honey to signify the delights of Paradise.

As we are in our three-week preparation for Great Lent, we are reminded that, in Orthodoxy, Lent is known as the Springtime of the Soul. For one, Lent occurs as Winter passes and we enter into Spring. But it is also known as the Springtime of the soul because everything that we see happen in nature, as it comes out of its lesser existence of being dormant and begins to live and bloom, is precisely what our Lord desires for the soul of His beloved children. Today, we discuss this transformation and focus on the importance of the condition of the soil of our soul as this spiritual Springtime sets upon us.

The Journey Of Love. It's a journey of sacrifice. Self denial. I love you I care for you. How a person gives a life of another. The Great Lent: 55 days of fasting and sacrifice. Gospel Reflection (Luke 2:21-39).

What St Isaac exposes here is not a technique but a diagnosis. He is ruthless because the sickness is deep. The soul is meant to be good soil but soil is not neutral ground. It either receives the seed with vigilance or it becomes choked. Remembrance of God is not a poetic feeling but a sustained pressure on the heart a vigilance that does not sleep. When this remembrance is alive the soul becomes a place where God Himself shades and illumines. There is no romance here. Light appears inside darkness not because the darkness is denied but because the soul has chosen to stand watch within it. St Isaac refuses to let us spiritualize our way around the body. The belly is not incidental. What enters the mouth reaches the heart. He speaks bluntly because self deception thrives in vagueness. Excess dulls perception. Pleasure thickens the air of the soul. Wisdom is not stolen from us by demons alone but smothered by our own indulgence. A full belly does not merely weaken resolve it fuels lust because the body has been trained to demand satisfaction. This is not moralism. It is anthropology. The knowledge of God does not coexist with a body that has been enthroned. Here asceticism is revealed as truth telling. It strips away the lie that discipline is punishment. Labor is not opposed to grace. Labor is the ground where grace becomes intelligible. St Isaac compares it to labor pains because knowledge of God is not an idea grasped but a life brought forth. Without toil there is no birth only fantasy. Sloth does not simply delay holiness it gives birth to shame because the soul knows it has avoided the cost of truth. This is where the inner disposition becomes decisive. Asceticism without remembrance hardens into pride. Asceticism without humility becomes violence against the self. But remembrance without discipline dissolves into sentimentality. St Isaac holds them together because life demands it. The question is not how much one fasts or how little one sleeps but whether the heart is consenting to be trained. Discipline embraced with resentment breeds bitterness. Discipline embraced with attention becomes wisdom. In an age starved of living elders this teaching cuts even deeper. We are tempted either to abandon asceticism entirely or to turn it into a private project shaped by personality and preference. St Isaac offers neither comfort. He places responsibility back into the hands of the one who desires God. The absence of elders does not absolve us. It makes inner honesty more urgent. The body becomes the first elder. Hunger teaches restraint. Fatigue teaches humility. Failure teaches mercy. If these are ignored no amount of reading will save us. Christ's closeness to the mouth of the one who endures hardship is not sentimental reassurance. It is promise and warning. He draws near to the body that has consented to the Cross. Not to the body pampered under the language of balance or self care. The care Christ offers is not the removal of hardship but His presence within it. Asceticism then is not heroic excess but fidelity to reality. It is the refusal to live divided. Priceless indeed is labor wrought with wisdom because it produces not control but clarity. The soul begins to see. And once it sees it can no longer pretend. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:01:50 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 170 paragraph 5 00:06:54 susan: how is lori hatari? 00:14:30 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 170 paragraph 5 00:27:40 Eleana Urrego: the brain register emotional and physical pain in the same way. 00:29:59 Jessica McHale: A question about ascetic disciplines of the body: I discerned monastic life with an order of nuns that wouldn't let me fast.(3 times a week was all I was asking) and wouldn't allow me to exercise more than a contemplative walk (which is not exercise to me). I feel very much called to fast for spiritual reasons and called to bodily stewardship as well. It's very personal. I coudl never understand how monastic nuns could discourage this and encourage--in my opinion--indulging in food too much. 00:31:48 Una's iPhone: Reacted to "A question about asc…" with

The teaching of St Gregory is so fundamental to Orthodoxy that he is especially commemorated each year in Great Lent on the Sunday following the Sunday of Orthodoxy (as well as on Nov. 14); Bishop Kallistos observes in the English edition of the Philokalia, "his successful defence of the divine and uncreated character of the light of Tabor...[is] seen as a direct continuation of the preceding celebration, as nothing less than a renewed Triumph of Orthodoxy."   The son of a prominent family, St Gregory was born (1296) and raised in Constantinople. At about age twenty, he abandoned a promising secular career to become a monk on Mt Athos. (His family joined him en masse: two of his brothers went with him to the Holy Mountain; at the same time his widowed mother, two of his sisters, and many of the household servants also entered monastic life.) He spent the next twenty years living as a hermit, spending five days a week in complete solitude, then joining the brethren on weekends for the Divine Liturgy and its accompanying services.   Around 1335 he was called to live a much more public life in defense of the faith and spirituality of the Church. A Greek living in Italy, Barlaam the Calabrian, had launched an attack on the hesychastic spirituality of the Church. Fundamentally, Barlaam denied that man can attain to a true vision of God Himself, or true union with Him, in this life. Gregory, recognizing in this an attack on the Christian faith itself, responded. He even left the Holy Mountain and re-settled in Constantinople so as better to wage the struggle, which had become so public that a Church Council was called to settle the issue. St Gregory's views were affirmed, and Barlaam's condemned, at the Council of Constantinople of 1341.   Though Barlaam himself returned to Italy, a series of his followers continued the attack, eventually resulting in two more Councils in 1347 and 1351, both of which affirmed the hesychasts' position. Metropolitan Hierotheos (The Mind of the Orthodox Church) writes that these councils have "all the marks of an Ecumenical Council." This, along with the fact that St Gregory's views are affirmed in the Synodikon of Orthodoxy (appointed to be read in churches every Sunday of Orthodoxy), and his commemoration every second Sunday of Great Lent, makes clear that his teaching is a basic and indispensable part of the Orthodox Faith.   In 1347 St Gregory was consecrated Metropolitan of Thessaloniki, where he served until his repose. (He spent a year of this period as the prisoner of Turkish pirates). Despite (or due to?) his austere monastic background, he was revered by his flock: immediately after his repose in 1359, popular veneration of him sprang up in Thessaloniki, Constantinople and Mt Athos and, in 1368, only nine years after his death, the Church officially glorified him as a saint.   St Gregory was always clear that unceasing mental prayer is not a special calling of monastics, but is possible and desirable for every Christian in every walk of life. See his On the Necessity of Constant Prayer for all Christians, reproduced on this site.

The teaching of St Gregory is so fundamental to Orthodoxy that he is especially commemorated each year in Great Lent on the Sunday following the Sunday of Orthodoxy (as well as on Nov. 14); Bishop Kallistos observes in the English edition of the Philokalia, "his successful defence of the divine and uncreated character of the light of Tabor...[is] seen as a direct continuation of the preceding celebration, as nothing less than a renewed Triumph of Orthodoxy."   The son of a prominent family, St Gregory was born (1296) and raised in Constantinople. At about age twenty, he abandoned a promising secular career to become a monk on Mt Athos. (His family joined him en masse: two of his brothers went with him to the Holy Mountain; at the same time his widowed mother, two of his sisters, and many of the household servants also entered monastic life.) He spent the next twenty years living as a hermit, spending five days a week in complete solitude, then joining the brethren on weekends for the Divine Liturgy and its accompanying services.   Around 1335 he was called to live a much more public life in defense of the faith and spirituality of the Church. A Greek living in Italy, Barlaam the Calabrian, had launched an attack on the hesychastic spirituality of the Church. Fundamentally, Barlaam denied that man can attain to a true vision of God Himself, or true union with Him, in this life. Gregory, recognizing in this an attack on the Christian faith itself, responded. He even left the Holy Mountain and re-settled in Constantinople so as better to wage the struggle, which had become so public that a Church Council was called to settle the issue. St Gregory's views were affirmed, and Barlaam's condemned, at the Council of Constantinople of 1341.   Though Barlaam himself returned to Italy, a series of his followers continued the attack, eventually resulting in two more Councils in 1347 and 1351, both of which affirmed the hesychasts' position. Metropolitan Hierotheos (The Mind of the Orthodox Church) writes that these councils have "all the marks of an Ecumenical Council." This, along with the fact that St Gregory's views are affirmed in the Synodikon of Orthodoxy (appointed to be read in churches every Sunday of Orthodoxy), and his commemoration every second Sunday of Great Lent, makes clear that his teaching is a basic and indispensable part of the Orthodox Faith.   In 1347 St Gregory was consecrated Metropolitan of Thessaloniki, where he served until his repose. (He spent a year of this period as the prisoner of Turkish pirates). Despite (or due to?) his austere monastic background, he was revered by his flock: immediately after his repose in 1359, popular veneration of him sprang up in Thessaloniki, Constantinople and Mt Athos and, in 1368, only nine years after his death, the Church officially glorified him as a saint.   St Gregory was always clear that unceasing mental prayer is not a special calling of monastics, but is possible and desirable for every Christian in every walk of life. See his On the Necessity of Constant Prayer for all Christians, reproduced on this site.

Fr. Andrew Iskander- Homily for the 6th Sunday of Great Lent. A reflection on the healing of the man born blind, and a lesson on true worship. Click the icon below to listen.

On the Sunday of St. John of the Ladder, Fr. Anthony delivers a homily that encourages us to take our pursuit of joy, peace, and freedom from anxiety seriously. He begins by asking whether we truly want these things or if we expect them to come without effort, likening it to people desiring health or success without being willing to make the necessary sacrifices. He emphasized that true peace and joy require commitment, not idle desire, and must be pursued through effort, prayer, and fasting. Fr. Anthony critiqued the common temptation of chasing material security and success, such as the promises of the "American Dream." While these may offer temporary peace, he warned that they are ultimately unreliable. Instead, Fr. Anthony pointed to the ascetic struggle of Orthodoxy, which teaches the importance of cultivating true love for God and others while rejecting selfishness. This process, he explained, involves training the heart to be immune to external manipulation and cutting the "strings" that vice and bad habits use to control us. In closing, Fr. Anthony reminds us the faithful of the spiritual disciplines of fasting, prayer, and charity, especially during Great Lent. He urges us to evaluate our progress in these practices and to recommit ourselves to the ascetic path if we have fallen short. Ultimately, the homily leaves us with this message: true joy and peace come from aligning with God's will, casting out the demons of vice, and living according to the Orthodox faith.

Perpend (David), who I started the podcast with, became an Orthodox monk and is now a Novice Monk at the Monastery of St. John in CA.As he was travelling from monastery to monastery throughout America, he occasionally was back in Kansas (the last time in September 2023). He would greet me, and others, with a greeting that he likely learned in his travels: Instead of saying, "Hi, how are you?", he would say, "How goes the struggle?"Instead of giving the usual response of "I am fine", you would think about it for a moment. This led to a more real and heartfelt conversation.In Orthodox Christianity there is a prayer: "Help the Orthodox Christians to struggle".Not "Help us get through the struggle". Not "Help us not to struggle".If you are saying to yourself, "That's un-American!", then you have lost touch with your history and tradition.I could go on for paragraphs here about how we have lost this touchstone of our human existence.We knew this just 100 years ago. The janitor knew that he was janitor and measured where he was in the world. He would hope and prepare his children to have a life better than his, but he knew where he was. In modern days, through credit the janitor thinks he can drive that fancy car.We watch TV or a movie and cheer when the hero goes through trials and comes out the victor at the end. We respond to these because these Hero's Journey stories are in our DNA.But now we watch the Hero's Journey story and do not want to experience trials and struggles ourselves.People watch TV and movies with the Hero's Journey and then grumble, complain, and take meds when they are called to the Hero's Journey.We need to struggle. We need the Hero's Journey.It all comes down to your mindset.Also - How is Great Lent going?Show notes for this episode: Ep. 157 - How Goes the Struggle?Grow Nut Trees is now taking orders for Spring shipping or local pickup.Grow Nut Trees.comNEW for this year are more types of chestnuts, including Qing Chinese hybrid chestnut seedlings. The Qing tree is a heavy producer with sweet flavored extra large nuts. These seedlings were grown locally and are adapted to the Midwest.Thriving Food Forest Design:We can create an edible foodscape, an orchard, or perennial kitchen garden so you can grow more food and be more self sufficient. We use fruit and nut trees and perennial plants adapted to the Midwest to create a low maintenance food forest.Start your journey to Thriving with a free 30 min consult, a discovery call to learn your vision and goals for your land.

Mano from The Study of Stuff joins to talk about Great Lent, the Toronto music and cultural scene, & psyops like the ones coming from the Tavistock Institute. Follow Mano : manoelia.comSing Up for a Membership on Gumroad for AD FREE CONTENT! https://mironchucknow.gumroad.com/l/mironchucknowGo Buy Tales Of The Shadow Empire On GUMROAD & Find out about the coming Financial Crisis and who is really in control:https://mironchucknow.gumroad.com/l/ShadowempireChapters also available to Spotify Subscribers: https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/njkaiTL6iNbSIGN UP TO A MEMBERSHIP PROGRAM TO GET EARLY ACCESS TO THE TALKS WITH STORMY & OTHER GUESTS! https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCxKHCMB0iwZkqKEustgsZwA/joinINTRO SONG: MIDNIGHT IN HARLEMroyalty free Music by Giorgio Di Campo for @FreeSound Music GO BUY SOME COFFEE AT FOX AND SONS! www.foxnsons.comUse Coupon Code NOW to get 15% off all orders over $30 Send me PayPal Bucks! 02bitspodcast@gmail.com Support the Show on Patreon: www.patreon.com/2BitPodcastOR on Substack: substack.com/@2bitpodcastFollow Me:X: https://x.com/MironchuckNOWSpotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/46drg48IIT4W4lDyRfkHFH?si=sAE_dgo5T_G10UpPnqHb_ASubstack: https://mironchucknow.substack.com

On this the 3rd Sunday of Great Lent, we begin the next 20 days of Great Lent.  Yes, 20 days have been completed and 20 days are ahead of us.   What can give us the strength to continue to move forward towards Christ?His Holy Cross!Listen...

Fr. Andrew Iskander- Homily for the 3rd Sunday of Great Lent. A reflection on the parable of the Prodigal Son and obedience. Click the icon below to listen.

Humans are created with an innate capacity to revel in God's glory, much like feeling the brief warmth of the sun after a long winter. This was intended to be our constant state, but we chose a different path. Yet, we still experience fleeting moments of transcendence—times of special warmth, belonging, and comfort that can arise in church, through music, gardening, or savoring well-earned rest after a hard day's work. These moments stir something deep within us, a spiritual sense that hints at the divine. But we must ask: who is the God we encounter in these moments? Feelings, even spiritual ones, can deceive us just as our other senses do. Taste, meant to sustain us, has been twisted by culture into cravings for unhealthy foods that harm rather than nourish. Likewise, the pleasure of sex, designed to unite married couples and create families, has been perverted into experiences like pornography and extramarital affairs that erode true intimacy. So too, our spiritual sense can be manipulated by pride or a deceptive culture, leading us to relish experiences that feel good but draw us away from the true God toward spiritual ruin. The Orthodox Church, especially through Great Lent, offers a remedy to refine this spiritual sense. Fasting and denying cravings, almsgiving from a simplified life, frequent repentance like St. Ephraim's prayer, and earnest worship prepare us for the transcendent celebration of Christ's Resurrection. St. Gregory Palamas affirmed we can encounter God's grace through these practices, but he warned of false experiences that mislead. The Church trains us to discern the true God—who loves and saves—from idols of our own making or the world's fleeting promises. One day, we will all meet Him; let us prepare now to know Him truly.    

He was born in Rome to a wealthy senatorial family. He received a good education in secular and spiritual learning, and became Prefect of Rome. While still in the world, he used his great wealth mostly for the good of the Church, building six monasteries in Sicily and another in Rome itself. At this monastery, dedicated to the Apostle Andrew, Gregory was tonsured a monk. He was appointed Archdeacon of Rome, then, in 579, Papal legate to Constantinople, where he lived for nearly seven years. He returned to Rome in 585 and was elected Pope in 590.   He is famed for his many writings, his generous charity (he gave almost all his income to the poor, and often invited the poor to share his table), and for initiating missionary work among the Anglo-Saxon peoples. The Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts, celebrated on Wednesday and Friday evenings during Great Lent, was compiled by him. St Gregory introduced elements of the chanting that he had heard in Constantinople into Western Church chant: The Gregorian Chant which beautified the Western churches for many years is named for him. Its system of modes is related to the eight tones of the Eastern church. He is called 'the Dialogist' after his book The Dialogues, an account of the lives and miracles of Italian saints.   Saint Gregory reposed in peace in 604.

He was born in Rome to a wealthy senatorial family. He received a good education in secular and spiritual learning, and became Prefect of Rome. While still in the world, he used his great wealth mostly for the good of the Church, building six monasteries in Sicily and another in Rome itself. At this monastery, dedicated to the Apostle Andrew, Gregory was tonsured a monk. He was appointed Archdeacon of Rome, then, in 579, Papal legate to Constantinople, where he lived for nearly seven years. He returned to Rome in 585 and was elected Pope in 590.   He is famed for his many writings, his generous charity (he gave almost all his income to the poor, and often invited the poor to share his table), and for initiating missionary work among the Anglo-Saxon peoples. The Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts, celebrated on Wednesday and Friday evenings during Great Lent, was compiled by him. St Gregory introduced elements of the chanting that he had heard in Constantinople into Western Church chant: The Gregorian Chant which beautified the Western churches for many years is named for him. Its system of modes is related to the eight tones of the Eastern church. He is called 'the Dialogist' after his book The Dialogues, an account of the lives and miracles of Italian saints.   Saint Gregory reposed in peace in 604.

He was born in Damascus to an eminent family, and was well educated in his youth. Discontented with the wisdom of the world, he entered monastic life in the monastery of St Theodosius, where he became the lifelong friend and disciple of John Moschos. Together they visited the monasteries and hermitages of Egypt; they later wrote down their discoveries among the holy monks in the classic Spiritual Meadow. After the death of his teacher, St Sophronius traveled to Jerusalem, which had just been liberated from the Persians. He was there to see the Precious Cross returned from Persia by the Emperor Heraclius, who carried it into Jerusalem on his back. A few years later, in 634, St Sophronius was elected Patriarch of Jerusalem, where he served his flock wisely for three years and three months. He was zealous in the defense of Orthodoxy against the Monothelite heresy: He convoked a Council in Jerusalem which condemned it before it was condemned at the Sixth Ecumenical Council. The holy Patriarch even traveled to Constantinople to rebuke the Patriarch Sergius and Emperor Heraclius, who had embraced the Monothelite error.   The years of peace were few for the Holy Land; for just as the Persian Empire was decisively defeated by Heraclius, the followers of Islam erupted out of Arabia, conquering most of North Africa and the Middle East in a few years. The Saint was so grieved by the capture of Jerusalem in 637 by the Caliph Omar that begged God to take him, so that he might not live to see the desecration of the holy places. His prayer was granted, and he reposed in peace less than a year later.   St Sophronios is the author of the Life of Saint Mary of Egypt, appointed to be read in the churches during every Great Lent. He also wrote the service of the Great Blessing of the Waters. Some have attributed the Vesperal hymn "Gladsome Light" to him, but we know that it dates from before the time of St Basil the Great, who mentions it in his writings. It seems though, that St Sophronios supplemented the hymn, and that its present form is due to him.

He was born in Damascus to an eminent family, and was well educated in his youth. Discontented with the wisdom of the world, he entered monastic life in the monastery of St Theodosius, where he became the lifelong friend and disciple of John Moschos. Together they visited the monasteries and hermitages of Egypt; they later wrote down their discoveries among the holy monks in the classic Spiritual Meadow. After the death of his teacher, St Sophronius traveled to Jerusalem, which had just been liberated from the Persians. He was there to see the Precious Cross returned from Persia by the Emperor Heraclius, who carried it into Jerusalem on his back. A few years later, in 634, St Sophronius was elected Patriarch of Jerusalem, where he served his flock wisely for three years and three months. He was zealous in the defense of Orthodoxy against the Monothelite heresy: He convoked a Council in Jerusalem which condemned it before it was condemned at the Sixth Ecumenical Council. The holy Patriarch even traveled to Constantinople to rebuke the Patriarch Sergius and Emperor Heraclius, who had embraced the Monothelite error.   The years of peace were few for the Holy Land; for just as the Persian Empire was decisively defeated by Heraclius, the followers of Islam erupted out of Arabia, conquering most of North Africa and the Middle East in a few years. The Saint was so grieved by the capture of Jerusalem in 637 by the Caliph Omar that begged God to take him, so that he might not live to see the desecration of the holy places. His prayer was granted, and he reposed in peace less than a year later.   St Sophronios is the author of the Life of Saint Mary of Egypt, appointed to be read in the churches during every Great Lent. He also wrote the service of the Great Blessing of the Waters. Some have attributed the Vesperal hymn "Gladsome Light" to him, but we know that it dates from before the time of St Basil the Great, who mentions it in his writings. It seems though, that St Sophronios supplemented the hymn, and that its present form is due to him.

On today's Bible Answer Man broadcast (03/05/25), Hank notes that today is Ash Wednesday, which is the beginning of the forty days of preparation for celebrating the death, burial, and resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. During this time, Christians remember our sinfulness, we repent, we ask for God's forgiveness, and we recognize that God's forgiveness comes at an infinite price—the death of Jesus Christ on the cross on our behalf. Hank also discusses Clean Monday, which is part of the Eastern Church's observance of the Great Lent that was observed this past Monday.Hank also answers the following questions:Which historian was the first to mention the Gospels? Jason - Harrisburg, PA (6:28)If Jesus died on a Friday and rose on Sunday, isn't that just two days? Jason - Harrisburg, PA (7:17)Can you clarify your statement on the doctrine of once saved, always saved? Jonathan - Calgary, AB (9:03)I've had someone question me about Christ being in the grave for three days; would you mind explaining that? Kurt - Spokane, WA (15:13)What would have happened if Adam and Eve had not eaten the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil? Keith - Kalamazoo, MI (18:04)I believe the Church misunderstands the timing of the day of preparation and Jesus' crucifixion. Tracy - Hayden, ID (21:09)

My guest this week is the priest at https://www.sttimothy.net and the head man at https://deathtotheworld.com. We are discussing the battleground where unseen and spiritual warfare takes place. We also talk about the weapons the Church gives us in this battle. Fr. John gets into the soul after death, Fr. Seraphim Rose, the Saints, Great Lent, and the importance of family within the Orthodox Church. Sponsors: Tiger Fitness:   Sheath Underwear:   Code: Counterflow Donate to the show here:   Visit my website:   Audio Production by Podsworth Media:   Leave us a review and rating on Apple Podcasts! Thanks!

Fr. Andrew Iskander- Homily for the 1st Sunday of Great Lent. A reflection on the virtue of calmness. Click the icon below to listen.

Listen to Fr. Abraham Fam's Sunday sermon.www.stsa.church

A homily delivered by Fr. Michael Maximous at St. Basil American Coptic Orthodox Church on February 23, 2025

The Greek Tyron means "conscript." This holy Martyr of Christ came from Pontus and was a Roman legionary during Maximian's persecution (~303). Though he had been a Christian since childhood, he kept his faith secret while in the army. While his cohort was stationed near a town called Euchaita, he learned that the people there were being terrorized by a dragon which lived in the neighboring forest. He set off to face the dragon, praying to God that the outcome of the contest would be a sign to him of whether the time had come to offer himself for martyrdom. He found the fire-spitting monster and, arming himself with the sign of the Cross, drove his spear through its head and killed it.   His success convinced him that, having vanquished this fleshly dragon, he was ready to vanquish the spiritual dragon, the Devil. When the commander of his camp next ordered a sacrifice to the Gods, Theodore boldly refused, saying "I am a Christian!" Further, he encouraged the other Christians in his company to do the same. That night he went to a nearby pagan temple of Rhea, mother of the gods, and burned it down. He was seen by the caretaker of the temple and was brought unresisting to the governor Publius. Theodore was thrown into a solitary dungeon cell; there he refused bread and water, saying that Christ had promised him food from heaven. He spent his time there chanting hymns with the angels, so that the guards were convinced that other Christians had somehow joined him in his cell.   When all argument, cajolery, bribery and threat had failed to turn the soldier from Christ, the governor resorted to torture, subjecting the Saint to terrible mutilations; but when Theodore endured them calmly and resolutely, the governor began to fear that his example would encourage other Christians, and ordered that he be burned. Taken to the stake, the Martyr walked freely into the flames, where he gave back his soul to God. When his body was ransomed and taken from the ashes by a pious Christian, it was found to be untouched. A church was built in Euchaita in honor of the Martyr; many pilgrims came there for the healing of soul and body.   In 361, the Emperor Julian the Apostate ordered the Prefect of Constantinople to have all foods in the marketplaces sprinkled with blood of animals sacrificed to the pagan gods during the first week of Lent, so that Christians would be unable to escape contact with idolatry. But St Theodore appeared in a vision to Patriarch Eudoxius (360-364), warned him of the plan and told him to instruct his flock not to buy any food in the marketplace, but to eat kolyva made from boiled wheat grains. So, through the Saint's intervention, the people were preserved from the stain of idolatry. Ever since, the Church has commemorated the miracle on the first Saturday of Great Lent. Since that time kolyva has come to be offered also in honor of the Saints and in memory of the departed. The whole grain represents the body, sown corruptible, which will be raised incorruptible (2 Cor. 15:37); it is usually sweetened with honey to signify the delights of Paradise.

The Greek Tyron means "conscript." This holy Martyr of Christ came from Pontus and was a Roman legionary during Maximian's persecution (~303). Though he had been a Christian since childhood, he kept his faith secret while in the army. While his cohort was stationed near a town called Euchaita, he learned that the people there were being terrorized by a dragon which lived in the neighboring forest. He set off to face the dragon, praying to God that the outcome of the contest would be a sign to him of whether the time had come to offer himself for martyrdom. He found the fire-spitting monster and, arming himself with the sign of the Cross, drove his spear through its head and killed it.   His success convinced him that, having vanquished this fleshly dragon, he was ready to vanquish the spiritual dragon, the Devil. When the commander of his camp next ordered a sacrifice to the Gods, Theodore boldly refused, saying "I am a Christian!" Further, he encouraged the other Christians in his company to do the same. That night he went to a nearby pagan temple of Rhea, mother of the gods, and burned it down. He was seen by the caretaker of the temple and was brought unresisting to the governor Publius. Theodore was thrown into a solitary dungeon cell; there he refused bread and water, saying that Christ had promised him food from heaven. He spent his time there chanting hymns with the angels, so that the guards were convinced that other Christians had somehow joined him in his cell.   When all argument, cajolery, bribery and threat had failed to turn the soldier from Christ, the governor resorted to torture, subjecting the Saint to terrible mutilations; but when Theodore endured them calmly and resolutely, the governor began to fear that his example would encourage other Christians, and ordered that he be burned. Taken to the stake, the Martyr walked freely into the flames, where he gave back his soul to God. When his body was ransomed and taken from the ashes by a pious Christian, it was found to be untouched. A church was built in Euchaita in honor of the Martyr; many pilgrims came there for the healing of soul and body.   In 361, the Emperor Julian the Apostate ordered the Prefect of Constantinople to have all foods in the marketplaces sprinkled with blood of animals sacrificed to the pagan gods during the first week of Lent, so that Christians would be unable to escape contact with idolatry. But St Theodore appeared in a vision to Patriarch Eudoxius (360-364), warned him of the plan and told him to instruct his flock not to buy any food in the marketplace, but to eat kolyva made from boiled wheat grains. So, through the Saint's intervention, the people were preserved from the stain of idolatry. Ever since, the Church has commemorated the miracle on the first Saturday of Great Lent. Since that time kolyva has come to be offered also in honor of the Saints and in memory of the departed. The whole grain represents the body, sown corruptible, which will be raised incorruptible (2 Cor. 15:37); it is usually sweetened with honey to signify the delights of Paradise.