Between Dust and Eternity

Sermon on the Eve of Pentecost: Remembrance of the departed
by Metropolitan Luke of Zaporozhie

Christ is in our midst, my dear readers!

Today, on Trinity Parental Saturday, we stand on the metaphysical threshold between time and eternity. The Church offers to our hearts the cosmic manifesto of the Apostle Paul: “As we have borne the image of the earthly man, so shall we bear the image of the heavenly man.” (1 Cor. 15:49). In these words lies the key to understanding human tragedy and human glory. What is the “earthly image”? This is an ontological trauma, the stamp of Adam’s fall, which we contemplate in cemeteries. We are born in a “suit of dust”, bound by the laws of entropy and decay. But the real tragedy of a man of the 21st century is that he is trying to perpetuate this dust. The cult of eternal youth, biohacking, and the frantic pursuit of limitless comfort are an attempt to cling to the earth’s clay and make corruption endless. The world creates a similitude of immortality by decorating the facade of a house that is doomed to be scrapped.

“For the perishable must clothe itself with the incorruptible, and the mortal with immortality.” (1 Corinthians 15:53)

Saint Augustine left us a prophetic warning: two universes pulsate simultaneously in history. The old, decaying cosmos is dying convulsively, and inside it, in the mysterious depths of the Church, the New Universe of Christ is maturing. All the cataclysms, historical crises and existential upheavals that modern man is so afraid of are not symptoms of final death, but of the “birth disease” of a new existence. And each of us is faced with a radical choice: which universe do we belong to? Are we harboring doomed dust or eternity bursting through it? The Apostle proclaims: “Let us be clothed!” In the original Greek text, this does not sound like a timid wish, but an immutable fact. Our commemoration of the dead today is not a cry of hopelessness. We bring faith to God that the earthly path of our loved ones is only sowing. Just as a grain falls into the ground to decay and grow into a beautiful ear of corn, so the bodies of the deceased are left in the ground until the time of the universal Resurrection.

But Parental Saturday is also a strict test for us, the living, when we are asked: “You, who walk on this earth, what do you dress your soul in? In the dust of fleeting resentments, in the digital noise of gadgets, in earthly passions? Or are you gathering heavenly garments of love, mercy, and purity through tears, sweat, and labor?” How to become a “Heaven” in practice? St. Cyril of Jerusalem says: “Heaven can be those in whom God dwells.” This requires a revolution against the “animal” order of life — the laws of the jungle that require revenge and domination. A Christian chooses forgiveness, purity, and truth. The potential of this victory is given to us in Baptism, where the Holy Spirit melted our nature. But this deposit must be kept. Every time we give in for the sake of peace, we rip off the old Adam.

The Apostle warns: “Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God,” referring to our sinful infirmity. But in the Sacrament of the Eucharist, we take into ourselves another Flesh and Blood — the Incorruptible Body of the Risen Christ. It is the medicine of immortality, which overcomes the laws of corruption even before the universal resurrection, as revealed to us by the incorruptible relics of the saints.

Let us wash our hearts with repentance. Let us pray for the departed, asking for the glory of incorruption for them. And ourselves, according to the word of St. Symeon the New Theologian, let us strive for the Holy Spirit to be reflected in us, making us a living icon of Christ. Let us hasten by works of righteousness, love, and mercy to clothe ourselves in the image of our Heavenly Lord Jesus Christ, to Whom be glory, honor, and worship forever and ever.