Episodes

  • Class on Journey to Reality - Chapter Ten on Prayer, Work, and Becoming Human

    Class on Journey to Reality - Chapter Ten on Prayer, Work, and Becoming Human
    Nov 12 2025

    In this episode, Fr. Anthony reframes prayer not as a spiritual transaction but as a lifelong conversation with God that restores our capacity to see, experience, and share His beauty, light, and love. Drawing on themes of theosis, maturation, and Zachary Porcu's vision of becoming human, he explores how prayer transforms our distorted desires, heals our blindness, and trains us to do the work God made us to do. The saints reveal that repentance and prayer are not a response to crises but a way of life — a steady ascent into clarity, freedom, and real communion with God and creation.
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    51 mins
  • Homily - Live in Grace (The Raising of Jairus' Daughter)

    Homily - Live in Grace (The Raising of Jairus' Daughter)
    Nov 9 2025
    St. Luke 8: 41-56 Drawing on St. Nikolai Velimirović's image of divine grace as electricity, this homily on the raising of Jairus' daughter (Luke 8:41–56) invites us to become living conduits through whom God's uncreated energy continually flows. Christ's tender command, "Talitha koum," reveals the greater reality that in Him even death is but sleep, for the fire of His love transforms all who see with eyes full of light into partakers of His eternal life. Homily on Jairus' Daughter St. Luke 8:41–56 Glory to Jesus Christ! It is a blessing to be with you this morning. I have really appreciated your hospitality throughout this weekend. In his homily on this beautiful event in the history of our salvation, St Nikolai Velimirović compares our Lord to electricity—or perhaps to magnetism, and to light. What he is describing is what we in the West call grace. The idea is that the Lord's uncreated energy – His spiritual electricity - is continually available; and those who allow themselves to be connected to Him become receptacles and conduits of that spiritual electricity—of that grace, of that beautiful light. We see this especially at Pascha, when the priest sings "Come receive the light," and one candle lights another, and the flame spreads from person to person. Magnetism is a similar image: not only does it attract, but it also bestows magnetism in a lesser degree to some of the objects it touches. This a lovely and apt metaphor—though, as St Nikolai warns, don't take it too far or you'll end up spouting heresy– for instance, a screwdriver that has received magnetism from a magnetic source retains the magnetism even after the source is removed. As we discussed yesterday, anything that is removed from the Source of Divine Energy loses its spiritual life. Going back to the metaphor of electricity, our hope is not to become a sort of battery that receives grace and then stores it separate from its source; rather, our hope is to increasingly become pure conduits of divine energy through whom it continually flows. Switching metaphors again, Jesus Christ describes this as living water in the Gospel according to St. John when He says; If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink. He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water. (St. John 7:37; also St. John 4:14) The grace that we share as Christians is flowing to and through us from its source, and that source is God. There is another lesson here. St. Nikolai points out that there were many people in the crowd that day, but only one was healed. Let me develop a point from yesterday's talk. You may remember my sharing that the scripture about the newly healed blind man seeing "trees walking" as a metaphor for our need to work on seeing the world as it really is. A related scriptural metaphor from Christ Himself has to do with the "eye of darkness;" "The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!" (St. Matthew 6:22-23). In part, these are eyes that fail to see the Lord even when He is present among us. Imagine that He turned to you and healed you after you had endured fourteen years of suffering. How would you respond? Lord willing, you would respond with thanksgiving and joy; a thanksgiving and joy that never fades. But the eye of darkness might quickly slip from thankfulness and joy back into bitterness and think or say: "Where have you been these fourteen years?" Do you see the trap? Do you see how such a response, such an attitude, misses the whole point of God's work among us — it's kind of like saying to Christ the God-man when He appears in His glory to bring us into His Kingdom; "O Lord, I thought you'd be taller." The eye of darkness is a terrible thing. For those who see truly, the world is permeated with the grace of God. Let us strive increasingly to the world with these eyes of light. Another lesson the Fathers draw from this story is that the healing itself wasn't even the main point. Do you remember the plot line we are following in the Gospel lesson? A ruler of the synagogue—a leader of the Jews—comes to Christ and begs: "My daughter lies dying. Please come to our house." As the Lord goes with him, the crowd presses in around Him. And even along the way, miracles happen. This is a lesson we need to learn: with the Lord, there is no such thing as "along the way." His grace is always active. Every moment with Him is transformed in Him and by Him. For the Christian, every moment of grace is an experience of eternal glory… and that moments lead in time to the next which is similarly transformed and transformative. For the Christian, after such an encounter, there is no darkness left to return to, only life in Christ so ...
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    15 mins
  • Class on Journey to Reality - Chapter Nine on Cosmic Revolution

    Class on Journey to Reality - Chapter Nine on Cosmic Revolution
    Nov 6 2025

    Today Fr. Anthony covers Chapter Nine, "Cosmic Revolution" of Zachery Porcu's "Journey to Reality" on the problem of suffering and evil.

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    AI Title and Summary:

    Keeping It Real About the Problem of Pain: Free Will, Moral Law, and the Ministry of Presence

    Beginning from a memorial service and C.S. Lewis' Problem of Pain, this talk wrestles honestly with Ivan Karamazov's challenge, the suffering of children, and what our visceral reaction to evil reveals about the moral law—the "Tao" or Logos—written into our very being, which cannot be reduced to mere biology or sentiment. From there it explores free will as the costly condition of genuine love, the way Christ transforms suffering into a kind of sacrament, and how practices like fasting and the simple "ministry of presence" allow us to stand with others in their pain as living icons of the God who is with us in every cross and every death.
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    53 mins
  • Class on Journey to Reality - Chapters Seven and Eight on Participation and the Bible

    Class on Journey to Reality - Chapters Seven and Eight on Participation and the Bible
    Oct 29 2025
    Today Fr. Anthony covers Chapters Seven and Eight from Dr. Zachery Porcu's Journey to Reality, "The Life of the Church" and "The Bible and the Church." Enjoy the show! +++ Journey to Reality Chapters Seven and Eight You are What You Do (Including Eat) 10/29/2025 As creatures, we were made malleable. It was built into our design so that we could grow towards perfection eternally. While this is a characteristic of the entire cosmos – and every member of it – it has a special purpose for us. We are the shepherds, farmers, and priests of the cosmos. The system is designed so that as we become better, we are able to shepherd or grow the cosmos from one made good – that is to say made both beautiful and beneficial into one that is even better; that is to say even better and more beneficial. This malleability is built into us. Alas, we have left our true home, so that malleability leads to malformation. Let's talk about the malleability. The way Dr. Porcu puts it is that we become what we do. Much of my own work reflects on the way our rituals form us. These rituals are embedded within a culture, and living within that culture shapes us into members and bearers of it. A few weeks ago, we talked about how we live in a materialist, secular, and consumerist culture. Living in it means that we automatically participate in its rituals. These develop within us a certain way of thinking, acting, and relating to other people, God, and our environment. How could it not? The unfortunate thing for us is that our primary culture is imperfect and reifies its imperfections into our way of being. I propose that the answer is not really to actively oppose it – as in some kind of culture war – because doing so before we break out of its conditioning is just going to ingrain its patterns more deeply into our hearts. Rather, we must find a new way of living. This new way of living should come with its own rituals that will gradually get enough traction to lessen the hold that the majority culture has on us and replace it with its own. To the extent that we must participate in the old rituals, we should reframe our participation in a way that resonates with our new life rather than our old one. We have to give them new meaning, so that, eventually, even these old ways of doing things can work with our new rituals to deepen the hold that our new way of life has on us and on our minds and how we relate to God, other people, and the environment. Some rituals, such as pornography, fornication (i.e., sex outside marriage), and driving slowly in the left-hand lane on the expressway, cannot be redeemed and so they have to be avoided. It will take discernment to figure out how to best engage in this process, so this way of life should involve developing a community that is all focused on the same sort of new life. Now let's go through chapter seven, "The Life of the Church." Quotes for discussion: "[Y]ou don't have to do anything, but if you want to become something, you have to participate in it." (77) "Sacramentally, the purpose of attending church services is to participate in a higher spiritual reality." (70) "[N]othing is 'just' physical. Objects and actions have intrinsic, spiritual meaning. Everything is participatory… [I]f the physical and the spiritual can't be separated, then imitation is always participatory. … You can't participate in something physically without also participating in its spiritual meaning." (72) "[As Orthodox Christians, our] goal is to imitate, and therefore participate in, a spiritual reality through the physical ritual. And the spiritual reality that sacramental Christians are trying to imitate through their liturgy is nothing less than heaven itself…. This is why sacramental Christians call their liturgy the "Divine Liturgy." To participate in it is also to participate in the exact same cosmic liturgy that the angels perform around the throne of God…. [W]hen you step into a sacramental church space that's correctly imitating the heavenly liturgy, you are stepping into a small bit of heaven itself – you are participating with the angelic powers in a higher spiritual reality." (73) "Sacramental Christianity is not just about doing a particular set of actions; it's a whole way of life. One way to describe this life is as participation in what the Church calls "liturgical time." (75) "[T]o be sacramental is not merely a matter of attendance, nor is it merely about thinking a certain way or performing certain ritual actions; it is a lifestyle… [G]oing to church and participating in the sacraments is about living out the idea that the physical and the spiritual are bound up together, and that you encounter them together through participation – not just in church, but in everything you do and are." (77) "You can't become healthy by sitting at home and reading a lot of articles about health. You don't become a member of a family by ...
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    45 mins
  • Homily - Gardening in Love (The Rich Man and Lazarus)

    Homily - Gardening in Love (The Rich Man and Lazarus)
    Oct 26 2025
    Luke 16:19-31 Fr. Anthony reflects on the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, revealing how our blindness—born of sin and a materialist worldview—turns the world and one another into mere commodities. Yet when we learn to see with love and humility, tending creation as God's garden, we rediscover beauty, grace, and the feast of life already set before us. ---- The Gospel of Lazarus and the Rich Man Homily – gardening in love It is hard for us to live the way we should. From our time in Eden to now, we have failed, and the consequences to our hearts, our families, and our world have been disastrous. The world groans in agony. One of our challenges is that we do not see things as they really are. We do not see their beauty and we do not see how they are connected. Instead of seeing things as both intrinsically good and perfectible, we evaluate them based on what they mean for us; what we can get from them. We see through a mirror dimly, in part because of our personal sin, and in part because our corporate worldview is fallen. The two work together to blind us to the world and opportunities for grace. There is this idea that cultures that do not have a word for something, say for instance a specific color, then they cannot see it. Their visual system will receive the requisite frequencies for that color, but it will not match any concept within their minds, so it either gets mislabeled or simply missed altogether. This was certainly the case with the Rich Man in today's parable – somehow he missed seeing Lazarus and the opportunity for grace a relationship with him would have provided. Moreover, he and his community – here represented by his brothers – had missed the point of the entire religion that they claimed to be a part of. And Abraham says that even a great miracle – a man rising of a man from the dead – would not be enough to restore their sight. Humility is the root virtue of discernment; and in humility, we have to take it as a given that we are in may ways just like the Rich Man. And I say take it as a given, because if it is true, then we will automatically mislabel – in this case meaning justify – our misperceptions and the gaps in our vision. The Rich Man missed the purpose of his riches and his calling to serve the man at his doorstep; more than that, he missed the very purpose of his life; the thing he was put on this earth to do. We are like Him and his brothers – and we claim to know the truth of the resurrection. The Rich Man and his brothers had the same calling that all of us have. This is the calling given to us at the beginning; we talked about this yesterday. We were designed – made as God's imagers - to bring out the best in everything and everyone; to heal those that are hurt and to build up those who are already well towards perfection. But instead of this, our fallen materialist worldview and our sin combine, for example, to get us to think of things as objects and ourselves as consumers. We want to know what we can use things for and what we can get out of people. One of the results of this is that our souls are starving from - a lack of grace. We feast sumptuously on commodities, but cannot see the more real and and much more vital meal God has put before us. We feed our bodies, but take no thought of the food required for our souls. Again, let's go back to Adam and Eve. Think of how they fell. One of the ways to understand their fall (from St. Nikolai Velimirovich) is that they turned the thing they were meant to tend – the garden – into a commodity; from something that deserved respect and the greatest of care to something that was useful primarily as food. Even the thing God told them not to eat became a commodity to them: they wanted what it offered. And remember what they learned? That it "tasted good." What a loss. Hear me well: Adam and Eve were meant to eat the things that grew in the garden, but the availability of food was really just a side-effect (what economists call a "positive externality") of being a good steward. They got it all wrong when they put what they wanted from the garden before their love for it. Instead of tending the garden, they tended to themselves. They forgot about beauty; they forgot about connectedness; they forgot about service. And so all the fruits of the garden became completely unavailable to them. We are so much worse than they were; our commodification of people and things in this world knows no end. We are always looking for an angle; looking for the best deal. Looking for how things do or do not fit into our plans. And because the materialist worldview is fallen and because selfishness is a sin, we do not see grace nor the many opportunities God has given us to multiply it in this world. And so we starve in a world of plenty. Let me give you a concrete example. Marriage was given to us in the Garden. It was meant to bear fruit, ...
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    20 mins
  • Talk: Music as an Icon of Cosmic Salvation

    Talk: Music as an Icon of Cosmic Salvation
    Oct 25 2025
    This talk was given at St. Nicholas Orthodox Church (UOC-USA) in Charlottesville, VA. In it, Fr. Anthony presents Orthodoxy's sacramental view of creation and uses music as an example of how the royal priesthood, in Christ, fulfills its commission to pattern the cosmos according to that of Eden. My notes from the talk: I'm grateful to be back in Charlottesville, a place stitched into my story by Providence. Years ago, the Army Reserves sent me here after 9/11. I arrived with a job in Ohio on pause, a tidy life temporarily dismantled, and a heart that didn't care for the way soldiers are sometimes told to behave. So I went looking for an Orthodox church. I found a small mission and—more importantly—people who took me in as family. A patient priest and his matushka mentored me for six years. If anything in my priesthood bears fruit, it is because love first took root here. Bishops have a sense of humor; mine sent a Georgian convert with no Slavic roots to a Ukrainian parish in Rhode Island. It fit better than anyone could have planned. The Lord braided my history, discovering even ancestral ties in New England soil. Later, when a young man named Michael arrived—a reader who became a subdeacon, a deacon, and in time a priest—our trajectories crossed again. Father Robert trained me; by grace I was allowed to help train Father Michael; and now he serves here. This is how God sings His providence—melodies introduced, developed, and returned, until love's theme is recognizable to everyone listening. Why focus on music and beauty? Because they are not ornamental to the Gospel; they are its native tongue. Beauty tutors us in a sacramental world, not a "God of the gaps" world—where faith retreats to whatever science has not yet explained—but a world in which God is everywhere present and filling all things. Beauty is one of the surest ways to share the Gospel, not as salesmanship or propaganda, but as participation in what the world was made to be. The Church bears a particular charism for beauty; secular beauty can reflect it, but often only dimly—and sometimes in ways that distort the pattern it imitates. Beauty meets the whole human person: the senses and gut, the reasoning mind, and the deep heart—the nous—where awe, reverence, and peace bloom. Music is a wonderfully concrete instance of all of this: an example, a symbol, and—when offered rightly—a sacrament of sanctifying grace. Saint John begins his Gospel with the Logos—not a mere "word" but the Word whose meaning includes order, reason, and intelligibility: "All things were made through Him." Creation, then, bears the Logos' stamp in every fiber; Genesis repeats the refrain, "and God saw that it was good"—agathos, not just kalos. Agathos is goodness that is beautiful and beneficial, fitted to bless what it touches. Creation is not simply well-shaped; it is ordered toward communion, toward glory, toward gift. The Creed confesses the Father as Creator, the Son as the One through whom all things were made, and the Spirit as the Giver of Life. Creation is, at root, Trinitarian music—harmonies of love that invite participation. If you like, imagine the first chapter of Genesis sung. We might say: in the beginning, there was undifferentiated sound; the Spirit hovered; the Logos spoke tone, time, harmony, and melody into being. He set boundaries and appointed seasons so that music could unfold in an ordered way. Then He shaped us to be liturgists—stewards who can turn noise into praise, dissonance into resolution. The point of the story is not that God needed a soundtrack; it is that the world bears a pattern and purpose that we can either receive with thanksgiving or twist into something self-serving and cacophonous. We know what happened. In Adam and Eve's fall, thorns and thistles accompanied our work. Pain entered motherhood, and tyranny stalked marriage. We still command tools of culture—city-building, metallurgy, and yes, even music—but in Cain's line we see creativity conscripted to self-exaltation and violence. The Tower of Babel is the choir of human pride singing perfectly in tune against God. That is how sin turns technique into idolatry. Saint Paul describes the creation groaning in agony, longing for the revealing of the sons and daughters of God. This is not mere poetic flourish; it is metaphysical realism. The world aches for sanctified stewardship, for human beings restored to their priestly vocation. It longs for its music to be tuned again to the Logos. Christ enters precisely there—as the New Adam. Consider His Theophany. The Jordan "turns back," the waters are sanctified, because nothing impure remains in the presence of God. He does not merely touch creation; He heals it—beginning sacramentally with water, the primal element of both life and chaos. In our services for the Blessing of Water we sing, "Today the nature of the waters is sanctified… The Jordan is parted in two… How shall a ...
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    1 hr and 40 mins
  • Class on Journey to Reality: Chapter Six on the Electric Eucharist

    Class on Journey to Reality: Chapter Six on the Electric Eucharist
    Oct 22 2025

    Today Fr. Anthony covers Chapter Six from Zachary Porcu's Journey to Reality, "Sacramental Being." (FWIW, he still doesn't buy the idea of something becoming a spiritual battery as batteries work seperate from an active power source and nothing is separate from the presence of God). Enjoy the show!
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    50 mins
  • Homily - When Death met the Author of Life

    Homily - When Death met the Author of Life
    Oct 19 2025

    Luke 7:11-16 (The Widow of Nain)

    At the gates of Nain, the procession of death meets the Lord of Life—and death loses. Christ turns the widow's grief into joy, revealing that every tear will one day be transformed into the eternal song of alleluia. A "by-the-numbers" homily - enjoy the show!

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    This was an encounter between two forces: death and the very source of life. We know how this encounter always turns out. Life seems so fragile (war, disease, accidents, violence) and we seem doomed to die.

    What happened (Jesus brought the dead back to life)

    Focus briefly on three parts of this Gospel reading: the procession, the grief of the mother, and how it ended.

    The funeral procession. How we do funerals. Preparation for it. Psalms. Preparation of the body. Funeral service(s). Burial. The movement of the person from one list in our daily prayers to the other. Nine-day prayers. Forty-day prayers. Annual prayers. Often with koliva or a special bread.

    The grieving mother. Do not weep. "Blessed are those who mourn." Jesus Himself, always in the Spirit, wept at the death of Lazarus. Do not weep "like those who have no hope…" (I Thessalonians). Repent of the sin that leads to unhealthy tears; and that repentance requires that we live knowing that we may never have another chance on this side of a funeral to mend a relationship. Tears of honest grief are cathartic, as are tears of outrage at the absurdity of living in a world where death is so prevalent. But let those tears flow in the knowledge that as outrageous, ignoble, and offensive as death is; that our tears of sorrow are being turned, as we sing in the funeral service, into the song "alleluia!" And that is how I want to conclude...

    How it ended. This was an encounter between two forces: death and the very source of life. Who won? And who won when death took a man captive and found that it, instead, it was forced to encounter God? Who won? It was no real contest! As we hear from St. John Chrysostom on Pascha: Christ-God annihilated death! In a world that was made and is governed by the source of Life, death place is temporary, a consequence and concession to our sin – sin which itself is, again through Christ, only temporary. It is holiness and life that endures forever.

    Conclusion. That is the side we have chosen: we reject sin and we reject death. We have intentionally chosen the side of holiness and of life. It seems as though our relationship with life is so vulnerable – to sickness, to violence, to sudden catastrophes; but in the only reality that matters in the end, it is quite the opposite. It and all its associated grief, anxieties, traumas, and pain are products of this world, doomed to end when it is remade in glory.

    Again, we have intentionally chosen the side of life. Let's live it as it was meant to be lived, not in fear of death but in the joy of the One who has through death defeated death and who desires us to live well both now and into eternity.

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    21 mins