7th Sunday After Pascha

Sunday of the 318 God-bearing Fathers of the First Ecumenical Council (325 AD)
John 17:1-13

by Assoc. Professor Philip Kariatlis (Sub-Dean)

Within the liturgical cycle of the Church, the Sunday following the feast day Christ’s Ascension and immediately preceding the Sunday of Pentecost, is dedicated to the memory of the three hundred and eighteen Fathers who met in Nicaea, at what came to be known as the First Ecumenical Council in 325AD. It was at this Council that the Creed, which we have today, and which we recite at every celebration of the divine Liturgy—and perhaps, for some, even on a daily basis, during their daily prayer—was composed and subsequently promulgated within the Church as a succinct summary, symbol and standard of the Christian faith. It is this Creed, the Nicene Creed as it is known today, which confirmed once and for all the true identity of Jesus Christ as the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, namely, the One who, as we read in the Creed, was “begotten of the Father before all ages [τὸν ἐκ τοῦ Πατρὸς γεννηθέντα πρὸ πάντων τῶν αἰώνων]” and was, at the same time, consubstantial with God—“of one essence with the Father [ὁμοούσιον τῷ Πατρί]”—namely, a distinct Person or Hypostasis, and, divine with exactly the same divinity as God, his heavenly Father. So significant is this Creed, that, to this day, it remains a doctrinal cornerstone of Christian belief upholding the Church’s identity and continuity today with that of the early Church.

As we commemorate these ‘God-bearing’ Fathers, the Church invites us today to reflect upon a passage taken from the Gospel according to St John (Jn 17:1-13), where Jesus is seen praying to God, his heavenly Father, for his disciples in a most intimate way revealing his divine Sonship: “all mine are yours”, Christ says with reference to his Father, “and all yours are mine [καὶ τὰ ἐμά, πάντα σά ἐστιν, καὶ τὰ σὰ ἐμά]” (Jn 17:10). Known as the ‘farewell prayer’ or ‘high priestly prayer’, we see Jesus addressing his heavenly Father before his impending suffering and Passion, revealing that He had accomplished the work that He had sent him to do on earth, and asking that God may continue to protect all those who believed in what He had taught (cf. Jn 17:12 & 4). He prays that God may grant the gift of eternal life—namely, eternal blessedness—to all those who had come to believe the words spoken by Christ during his earthly ministry (cf. Jn 17:2). Together with the profoundly personal manner in which Christ refers to God, we are equally moved to see once again, throughout the passage, our Lord’s boundless and unfailing love for us, together with his all-embracing and all-encompassing love for the world.

The Gospel reading more specifically begins with the following words of Christ, which in their context may seem strange at first glance: “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son” (Jn 17:1). We know that Christ would soon be brought before trial; that He would have to suffer and ultimately be put to death in the worst possible way known in the ancient world, namely by being crucified; and yet, He asks to be ‘glorified’. Considering his impending Passion, therefore, what are we to understand by these words, “δόξασόν σου τὸν υἱόν”? Indeed, what type of glory is Jesus seeking? Surely, He was not seeking worldly honour and recognition, that is, the acclaim and authority of this world? Still less would He have been soliciting public acknowledgement or admiration, asking, for example, to be formally recognised and extolled for all the miracles and healings that He had performed throughout his earthly ministry. As the Gospel passage continues, we come to realise, almost immediately, that the glory Christ is seeking has nothing to do with the kind of glory that human beings typically pursue in the world: a glory of power, pre-eminence and prestige, ordinarily acquired by force and coercion, or worse, still by stepping on others so that the one seeking to be glorified can be ennobled and exalted.

The Gospel reveals the type of glory that Christ was seeking: his glory is entirely incongruous with worldly glory and power; rather, Christ’s glory is one of self-sacrifice and perfect love; one that will see him freely and willingly die, sacrificing himself, so that, by this “single offering, [He may] perfect for all time those who are sanctified” (Heb 10:14). Unlike the glory of dominance and power that human beings typically seek, the glory of Christ is revealed on the Cross, a glory and “power made perfect in weakness” (2Cor 12:9); a glory made manifest in his ultimate humiliation and kenosis; a glory that will see Him ridiculed and jeered, scorned and scourged, struck and spat upon! Accordingly, in seeking to be glorified, Christ is ultimately seeking the glory of the Cross. Indeed, in beholding Christ on the Cross, we behold the glory and divinity of Christ, the Bridegroom revealed in all his power!

It follows that, as his disciples, we too are called to emulate this life of Christ. Several chapters before within the same Gospel, after washing his disciples’ feet, Christ explicitly said: “For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done [ὑπόδειγμα γὰρ ἔδωκα ὑμῖν ἵνα καθὼς ἐγὼ ἐποίησα ὑμῖν καὶ ὑμεῖς ποιῆτε]” (Jn 13:15). We too are called to model ourselves and our life on Christ’s life of loving service; seeking to love those around us even more than ourselves, especially the most vulnerable and weak within society. Moreover, as Christ’s followers we are enjoined to strive to live by the words of Christ that “it is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). In the end, we are called to embody a way of life that goes totally against the grain of our contemporary world, and one that we would customarily want to react against: ‘why should I let those around me step all over me? we might be tempted to ask. Why should I be taken for a fool? It is very hard—if not impossible—to even suggest that true strength and even power can emerge from situations of vulnerability or apparent weakness.

And yet, the paradox is that only to the extent that we endeavour to live a life characterised by love and sacrifice, by humility, by loving service in which we strive to put the needs of others before ours, will we ever be able to experience that profound and transformative power of joy and peace that far surpasses a life centred on self-interest, self-gain and self-advancement at all costs. Admittedly, whilst, this may seem humanly impossible to implement in our lives, with Christ all things become possible (cf. Lk 18:26). Christ himself transformed a most dire and disastrous situation, namely that of his death, into life. Indeed, He teaches: “Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” (Jn 12:24-25). St Paul writes that dying in Christ—namely, entrusting our entire existence to him and his will, or as we repeat in the divine Liturgy, “commend[ing] ourselves and one another and our whole life to Christ our God”—“and see, we are alive [ὡς ἀποθνῄσκοντες καὶ ἰδοὺ ζῶμεν]” (2Cor 6:9). There is no greater freedom for the human person than to know that our ‘end’ in this life is not our extinction and expiration, but rather, by God’s grace our entrance into the endless and deathless life of God’s eternal kingdom.

Beyond the gift of life in all its abundance promised to those who come to know the only true God and Jesus Christ whom He has sent (cf. Jn 17:3), living a life of self-effacing love—that is, one characterised by loving service, humility, putting others’ needs before those of our own—is incredibly more powerful and satisfying than one centred on the self. Only when we are truly committed to prioritising the needs of others over our own, can we genuinely foster enduring relationships and a true sense of belonging. Competition and conflict, on the other hand, give rise to disconnection and isolation, or worse, an empty and dissatisfied reality which destroys us and does nothing for the cohesion and solidarity of any society. The transformative power of self-effacing love is that it alone fosters the flourishing of persons and communities, bringing about a profound sense of fulfilment and purpose in our life, to the extent that it aligns with who God created human beings, “created in his image and likeness” (Gen 1:26) to be. In the end, freely choosing to live life lovingly—namely, not one which is self-serving and inward-looking—ultimately leads to a richer and more meaningful existence on many levels. And it is such a life which has the power to transcend our human capabilities opening before us endless horizons which alone are truly liberating; namely, our entry into a mode of life which is victorious even over death.

Having briefly expounded upon the pattern of life gifted to us by Christ, one which as we noted above is marked by freedom—that is, freedom from the bounds of death—and love—namely, one in which we cease to draw our existence from our own individuality which is corrupt and mortal—ultimately a life as a communion of love, the Gospel further clarifies a characteristic feature of such a life in Christ. Towards the end of the high priestly prayer, Christ especially draws attention to the gift of unity—that is, to the importance of striving to remain united both with him and one another. Indeed, we discover that God’s will for us is that we seek unity in all our interactions, “may they be one, as we are one” (Jn 17:11). Christ prays that God may keep all his followers, that is, all of us, united as one, so that in this life, with all its difficulties and hardships, we may never have to feel isolated and helpless, abandoned and forsaken, but on the contrary may experience a real sense of belonging, a real sense of harmony, fellowship, concord and solidarity, all of which will ultimately assist us endure and persevere throughout all that life may bring before us. And of course, within the Church, not only are we intimately united amongst ourselves, becoming the one Body of Christ, especially when we gather to celebrate the divine Liturgy, but we are also united with Christ, as a Body is to its Head. In his letter to the Colossians, St Paul tells us that “Christ is the head of his body, the Church…” and through him He was pleased to reconcile to Himself all things” (Col 1:18 & 20).           

The Gospel passage ends with a promise: if we seek to make this difficult gift of Christ’s unity a reality in our life, then our lives will radically be transformed by the fullness of his joy. “I speak these things in the world” Christ says, “so that they may have my joy made complete in themselves” (Jn 17: 13). And the fullness of joy is the coming of the Spirit which will enter into our hearts uniting us with Christ and bringing us into the presence of our heavenly Father in his eternal kingdom. And when this happens, all of a sudden, everything else in our life becomes filled with joy—“all things are filled with joy [Χαρᾶςτὰπάνταπεπλήρωται]“ we sing in Church, and elsewhere we chant“ let the heavens rejoice and the earth be glad… [Εὐφραινέσθω τὰ οὐράνια, ἀγαλλιάσθω τὰ ἐπίγεια].” In seeking Christ, everything becomes filled with the light and sweet-smelling fragrance of Christ, and in so doing, we receive joy-filled glimpses of eternity in the here and now! What richness of love; what affluence of affection on the part of Christ; what exuberance of tenderness and compassion that can truly comfort and provide solace in our most difficult moments.

May we, like the fathers of the First Ecumenical Council—indeed, like all the fathers and saints of our Church—come to recognise and receive the person of Christ as one of the Holy Trinity into our life, just as they had done, so that our lives may truly be filled with overflowing joy despite the manifold adversities and hardships that will inevitably be thrown our way in this life. May these divine, affectionate and most mellifluous words of Christ which we heard uttered in the Gospel passage, remain indelibly embedded in our hearts so that that they may infuse it with the liberating and life-changing love of our Lord and the promise of his eternal kingdom. Amen.

About the Author

Associate Professor Philip Kariatlis Sub-Dean of St Andrew's Greek Orthodox Theological College Associate Professor Philip Kariatlis is Academic Director and Associate Professor in Theology at St Andrew's. After taking an undergraduate degree in Theology from St Andrew's, he graduated from the University of Sydney with a degree in Arts, majoring in Modern Greek. He received a Master of Theology and a doctorate from the Sydney College of Divinity, where he studied under Professor Gerard Kelly. His doctorate was in the area of ecclesiology where he examined the notion of koinonia ... Read author's full bio here..

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