Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory forever!

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

            What does it take for a man to fulfill the will of God? What does it take for a man to fulfill the will of God? “What is the will of God for my life?” “What is my calling? What is my vocation? What am I supposed to accomplish in this life for the Kingdom of Heaven?”

“For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, whom we proclaimed among you, … was not ‘Yes’ and ‘No,’ but in him it is always ‘Yes.’ For all the promises of God find their ‘Yes’ in him. That is why it is through him that we utter our ‘Amen’ to God for his glory. And it is God who establishes us with you in Christ, and has anointed us, and who has also put his seal on us and given us his Spirit in our hearts as a guarantee” (2 Cor 1:19-22).

How many of us, brethren, have asked this question at critical moments in our lives: “What is the will of God for me?” Whether it was before embarking on a new relationship, choosing a college and a field of study to pursue, choosing or changing an occupation, being asked to help with or lead an extracurricular activity; for some of us it has been the consideration of ordained or tonsured ministry; before making a new beginning, the Christian asks, “What is the will of God for my life?”

Scripture is impersonal in answering this question, insofar as it does not give a tailor-made answer to each of us. It does not say, “Fr. David, Dn. John, Naomi, Gina, Eric, Todd, Megan, Ambrose… do this!” But it does give us a universal exhortation that, despite its breadth, is as equally challenging to realize as any tailor-made vocation. These are a few of my favorite words penned by St. Paul:

“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise prophecies, but test everything; hold fast to what is good. Abstain from every form of evil. Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blamelessly at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it” (1 Thess 5:16-24, italics mine).

Wow! What an incredible chunk of text. “What is the will of God for my life?” “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances, … hold fast to what is good, abstain from every form of evil. … [And] may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely.” The will of God for each and every one of us is total sanctification, total glorification, total communion, total perfection. It is theosis.

            And theosis does not happen as the result of repeat and extreme divine intervention. Has Christ intervened in human history in an extreme way? Of course! But the incarnation, death, resurrection, and ascension of our Lord is both the exception and the catalyst in the process of our salvation. In determining the will of God for our lives, we cannot sit on our hands, gazing off into the horizon, waiting for the sky to split, for the angels to appear, for the trumpets’ peal, for the voice from heaven to ring out, saying, “You! I have called YOU, my servant!” No, our theosis happens momentarily, in the “always,” in the “without ceasing,” in the “all circumstances” of life. Our theosis happens when we see God in the fleeting moments of ordinary time. Our theosis—and our obedience to the will of God—happens when we are able to say, “Yes,” to God in the rote and the routine. And if we cannot say, “Yes,” in the routine, then we will be spiritually ill-equipped to say, “Yes,” in life’s most daunting moments.

            Today, brethren, the Church commemorates a saint that is very dear to the Orthodox Church in America and to this deacon personally, St. Innocent of Alaska, Enlightener of the Aleuts. St. Innocent, in my own interpretation of his life’s events, is so special because he never did anything terribly special. His life is extraordinary; do not misunderstand me. St. Innocent—who began his ministerial career as Fr. John Veniaminov—was a priest, a missionary, a linguist, a clockmaker, a furniture maker, a meteorologist, an anthropologist, a sociologist… and more! Yet, despite these (many!) vocations, he never regarded himself as anything other than a Christian, a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ, fulfilling the will of God in him.

            Eventually, St. Innocent became the Metropolitan of Moscow, presiding over the highest see of the Russian Orthodox Church, because sixty-one years prior, at the ripe age of ten, he said a very naïve and boysome, “Yes,” to God and entered the Irkutsk theological seminary. Had God then called the young John to become the Patriarch of All Rus? No, he had called John to study his Bible a little more than he had for the last ten years. For those unfamiliar with St. Innocent’s life, it would be beneficial to highlight some of the extraordinary, ordinary events.

            For eleven years, St. Innocent studied at the Irkutsk theological seminary, and in 1817, he was married—another “Yes,” this time to a physical helpmate; to washing dishes, to folding clothes, to raising children—(he was married) and he was ordained to the holy diaconate. A year later, he took a teaching position at a parochial school, and three years after that he was ordained to the holy priesthood, assigned to the same church where he served as deacon, the Church of the Annunciation in Irkutsk. At this time in his life, St. Innocent had checked off many ordinary boxes; went to school, got married, got a job, and in all of this, he had only moved three hours away from his hometown of Angiskoye, in the Irkutsk Oblast of south-central Russia. He sounds a lot like us, just “doing life.”

            But in 1823, Fr. John’s hierarch, Bp. Michael of Irkutsk, at the direction of the Russian Synod, put out a call for a missionary priest to go to the island of Unalaska in the New World. The call went… unanswered, even by John Veniaminov. But through fasting and prayer, and after much spiritual introspection, St. Innocent concluded (writing in his Journals),

“May my own example serve as a new proof of the truth that ‘by the Lord are the footsteps of a man directed’ (Psalm 36:23), and that each of us, servants of His Church, is no more than an instrument in His hands.  He saw fit to establish my field of ministry in America—and that despite my opposition. … Blessed be the name of the Lord!”

St. Innocent had not been asked as a 10-year-old boy to go to Alaska, to evangelize in a foreign land. He had received a decade of theological education. He had received five years of ministerial experience. He had become capable with his hands. He had been fortified in spirit. He had been formed and prepared—in the ordinary—to accomplish something extraordinary.

            The rest of St. Innocent’s life is, as they say, “history.” St. Innocent did all the conventional things that missionaries do, although in extreme cold, and in extreme breadth. He translated the Scriptures and service books into multiple native dialects. He wrote detailed meteorological and anthropological reports that appeared in Russian academic journals. He built a church. No, I did not say, “He designed a church.” He built a church, hammer in hand: Holy Ascension on Unalaska, which stands to this day, albeit with many repairs and structural rehabilitations. By the end of his ministry in Alaska, St. Innocent had baptized over 10,000 natives. His initial journey from Irkutsk to Unalaska was approximately 2,000 miles, by boat, by sled, by foot; and over the course of his ministry, St. Innocent would put on thousands more miles by sea, traveling to the outermost regions of the Diocese of Kamchatka, often alone, in a narrow baidarka, a leather kayak of Aleut-make. Five years into his Alaskan ministry, St. Innocent, who had now experienced the brunt of the Alaskan frontier weather, wrote,

“… I had grown accustomed to being at sea, and I hoped, moreover, in God ‘who guides a man safely in the way he should go.’ … [O]ther than seasickness, I observed no fear or discomfort… . I was, however, continually in danger of losing my life, for… ‘there is not a single board here to save you from death—just skins” (Veniaminov, Journals).

What an insightful comment: “I had grown accustomed…” (repeat). St. Innocent accomplished some truly remarkable things in his life; miraculous things, even; saintly things. But, St. Innocent was not endowed with the same spiritual gifts that many of our saints possess: prophecy, clairvoyance, healing. Rather, St. Innocent was able to witness the miraculous—the conversion, the sanctification of thousands—by becoming comfortable, familiar, accustomed to immense spiritual labor. The first time St. Innocent stepped into a baidarka: it was probably a pretty scary step. “I’m going to be traveling how far in this kayak?! Ok, phew, here we go.” And after years of saying, “Yes, I’ll get in the boat,” well, he became accustomed to it. The same can be said, brethren, of every spiritual labor, great or small. Prayer is difficult. Beginning to pray is difficult. Fasting is difficult. Beginning to fast is difficult. Evangelism is difficult. Serving in the altar is difficult. Singing in the choir is difficult. Handing out bottles of water at a street fair and talking to strangers… is difficult… at first. But then, you get accustomed.

            In today’s Epistle Reading from Hebrews, St. Paul says,

“For the law appoints as high priests men who have weakness, but the word of the oath, which came after the law, appoints the Son who has been perfected forever, … for such a High Priest was fitting for us, who is holy, harmless, [and] undefiled” (Heb 7:28, 26).

Lest we forget: St. Innocent was just a man; a priest, a bishop; a great priest and bishop, but he too had weaknesses. How then did he accomplish his task?

Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things, I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (St. Paul, in Phil 4:11-13, italics mine).

God desires our “Yes,” and when we say, “Yes,” he is more than able to secure, to edify our cooperation. “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all things.” How can I do this? By saying, “I will do this, as much as I am able, today, and by the grace of God (cf. Jas 4:6), I will do this again tomorrow.” Great challenges, difficulties, stressful events and encounters, whatever they may be for each of our unique personalities—ordained ministry, singing in the choir, serving in the altar, raising children, finding just enough strength to rise from our beds and greet the day in prayer, “Lord, have mercy,”—all these become more extraordinary; dynamic channels of divine grace; the more we say, “Yes,” to ordinary things.

“May my own example serve as a new proof of the truth that ‘by the Lord are the footsteps of a man directed’ (Psalm 36:23), and that each of us, servants of His Church, is no more than an instrument in His hands. … Blessed by the name of the Lord!” (Veniaminov, Journals).

Through the prayers of our holy fathers, especially, St. Innocent, “Enlightener of the Aleuts, and Apostle to America,” O Lord Jesus Christ, our God, have mercy on us and save us. Amen. 

Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory forever!