And Nathanael said to [Philip], “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?’ Philip said to him, “Come and see.”
Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory forever!
Forgive me, the sinner. God forgives, and I forgive.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
“And Nathanael said to [Philip], ‘Can anything good come out of Nazareth?’ Philip said to him, ‘Come and see.’ … And Jesus said to Nathanael, ‘Most assuredly… hereafter you shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man” (John 1:46, 51).
“The Son is the image (eikon) of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation” (Col 1:15).
"If a pagan asks you to show him your faith, take him into church and place him before the icons. … [These] images are books for the illiterate and silent heralds of the honor of the saints, teaching those who see, with a soundless voice, and sanctifying the sight” (St. John of Damascus).
Brethren, on this Sunday of the Triumph of Orthodoxy, we celebrate the victory of the iconodulic doctrine of Second Nicaea (AD 787). We celebrate the right veneration of icons in our corporate worship and in our private devotion. We celebrate the theology and symbology of icons. Ultimately, we celebrate the doctrine of the incarnation, that “Jesus Christ has come in the flesh” (1 Jn 4:2b), as St. John the Theologian says in his First Epistle. We do not have a textbook faith, a cerebral faith. We have an incarnational Faith. We have a God that can be touched and can be seen. Therefore, the evangelistic message of Philip to Nathanael remains unchanged, “Come and see.” “We have found him of whom Moses in the law, and also the prophets, wrote… . Come and see” (John 1:45-46).
It is important to understand, brethren, that when we are inviting people to encounter Holy Orthodoxy (“Come and see!”) we are not inviting them to a building. We are not inviting them to a particular aesthetic. We are not inviting them to a culture. We are not—primarily, fundamentally—inviting them to an intellectual, or sophisticated, or beautiful, or historical faith. Yes, in coming to Orthodoxy, people might experience a faith that is deeply rooted in history, grounded in apostolic doctrine, global, universal—catholic, rich in ethnic traditions and foods, a panoply of languages, beautiful in its art and architecture, beautiful in its musical traditions. But this is not at the heart of Orthodoxy. When we say to friends, family, newcomers—“Come and see”—we must always mean, as the Apostle Philip meant—“Come and see Jesus. … Come and experience the fullness of faith which is the incarnation, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”
If we came to Orthodoxy because of the architecture, then we did not come for the right reason. If we came to Orthodoxy for the “smells and bells,” as they say, then we did not come for the right reason. If we came to Orthodoxy for the koliva, the vasilopita, the lazarakia, the baklava (even though these are delicious!), then we did not come for the right reason. We can strip the temple of its cupola (aah!); we can strip the temple of its paraments. We can strip the temple of its candles, its chandelier, its analogia (and in many parts of the world; in war-torn, ravaged Orthodox nations this is the just the case). But we cannot—we cannot—rid our temples of Christ, and remain “faithful stewards of the mysteries of God” (1 Cor 4:1). We cannot dispose of those fundamental images (eikones) of Christ, the fundamental symbols of Christ, predicated upon the reality of his incarnation; that is, (1) the Holy Eucharist, (2) the Holy Gospel, and (3) the Holy Icons. A liturgy can be served on a sailboat, the antimension spread out and the elements prepared upon a rustic shipping crate (and the early Alaskan missionaries did just this!). The liturgy can be served without the “smells and the bells.” But the liturgy cannot be served without Christ.
You see, so much that is characteristic of Holy Orthodoxy is just that—a characterization, a waypost, an indication of the Apostolic Tradition. But too often we confuse our language, and so, we confuse our theology. Not everything that is significant is symbolic. Once again: not everything that is significant is symbolic. If you have been attending our catechesis on the daily reading and the interpretation of Holy Scripture, then you will already be familiar with this line of thought. We confuse sign and symbol in our everyday vernacular, which leads to a confusion in our theological understanding. A “sign” is something that “indicates,” i.e., “points to,” but a “symbol” is that which “unites / stands in place of / brings together.” We get our English word “symbol,” from the Greek sumbolon, itself a compound of sum, “together,” and ballein, “to throw.” A symbol is that which “throws together / brings together” two things. A symbol is the realization of one thing in another. A sign “points to” the real thing. A symbol actualizes the real thing.
Do you understand then why Orthodox Christians must prioritize—as the essence of the Faith—those true symbols which I have already mentioned: the Holy Eucharist, the Holy Gospel, and the Holy Icons? It is because they are the true symbols of Christ. They are the things which substantiate (quite literally!) the doctrine of the incarnation. In these things, our Lord can still be seen. In these things, our Lord can still be touched and communed with. We are still able to say to our neighbors, “Come and see,” in full fidelity to St. Philip’s message from 2,000 years ago, because our God can still be seen. He can be tasted and received in the chalice. He can be heard in the Holy Gospel. He can be seen in the Holy Icons. The Eucharist is not mere symbol; it is not a “representation of” Christ. It is true symbol—it is the real presence of Jesus Christ. Christ did not say, and the priest does not repeat, the words of institution as such: “This is a memorial, a sign of my body broken for you,” but rather, “This is my body broken for you” (Luke 22:19, 1 Cor 11:24).
What is true of the Eucharist is also true of the icons that we commemorate this day. Names and images are natively symbolic. Titles and relationships further qualify. When you say, “Fr. David Smith,” you can only mean one thing—the priest of the Church of the Holy Spirit. Without the real reference the name is meaningless. Signatures mean, “I—the real one, the person—authorize this.” The same can be said of images. A photograph of a loved one is only intelligible because it has a real antecedent. And when looking at a photograph, we can properly say, “This is my wife. This is my child,” because the image is none other than hers, his, theirs. We do not point to an icon and say, “This is a picture of Jesus.” That would be redundant. “This is an icon of an image of Jesus.” No, we say, “This is Christ.” Do we mean, the image is the person? No, but we mean—this is Jesus’ image. This is not a “representation of” the image of God. This is the image of God in the person of Jesus Christ. This is the reality of the incarnation of the Son of God. This (**point) is the Apostolic Faith. This is the faith of the Fathers. This is the Orthodox Faith. “If a pagan asks you to show him your faith, take him into church and place him before the icons.” If a friend asks you to show him your faith, say, “Come and see.”
Through the prayers of our holy fathers, O Lord, Jesus Christ, our God, have mercy on us and save us. Amen. Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory forever!