Readings: Revelation 1:1–5; Saint Matthew 18:1–10
The readings for today confront us at our centre, making us examine our complacency. They are not light words to be admired and then forgotten; they are thunderous proclamations of the Lord’s will and demands upon His people. From the beginning of the Apocalypse, Saint John shows us that what he bears is not a matter of his imagination, but the direct revelation of Jesus Christ Himself, entrusted to the Church for our salvation. Significantly, it is delivered through an angel, reminding us that the bodiless hosts are ever God’s messengers, mediators of His will, and guardians of His people. The voice of the Alpha and the Omega sounds forth, He is the beginning and the end, the One who was, who is, and who is to come. The urgency is undeniable. “The time is near.” We are not given the comfort of delay, as though we might put off repentance to another season. We are called now to awaken.
See how John speaks of blessings for both the reader and the hearers of this prophecy—yet the blessing is not for listening alone, but for keeping what is written. Too often we delight in hearing holy things, but we fail to live them. Too often we decorate ourselves with outward piety while the heart remains cold, proud, or unrepentant. The Apostle tells us that Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, has freed us by His blood and made us a kingdom of priests to His God and Father. If this is so, then how shameful it is when those consecrated to God live like the world, bowing to its lusts, clinging to its vanities, and trifling with sin. If He has shed His blood to wash us, shall we trample it with carelessness? If He has made us priests and rulers in His kingdom, shall we continue as slaves to our passions? Let us not deceive ourselves. The Lord’s dominion is eternal, and He is not mocked. Yet to those who repent, His love is unfailing, His mercy ever sure, His blood never failing in its power.
Turning to the Gospel, we are confronted with a question the disciples themselves dared to ask, “Who is the greatest?” Even those closest to the Lord wrestled with ambition, pride, and the spirit of comparison. Christ does not thunder at them, but He places a child in their midst. With utter seriousness He declares that without turning and becoming like children, we shall not enter the kingdom at all. The kingdom does not belong to the proud, the self-promoting, or the hardened. It belongs to those who humble themselves, who entrust themselves, who remain simple in faith and guileless in heart.
How searching is His warning. Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Him to stumble, it would be better for such a one to be drowned in the sea with a millstone round his neck. Can there be a sterner word spoken to us? Do we take our Lord’s words seriously? If we by our scandal, by our cruelty, by our neglect or false teaching, destroy the faith of even one soul entrusted to us, Christ declares that death itself would be a lighter burden than the judgement awaiting us. It is not only those who corrupt children in body or soul, but all who by example and negligence lay stumbling-blocks before the weak, who will be held accountable. Woe to us if we mock, despise, or crush the tender faith of another.
Therefore the Lord speaks with such fearful clarity—if your hand, your foot, or your eye causes you to stumble, cast it away. Better to enter life maimed than to be whole and perish. This is not a call to self-harm, but to ruthless seriousness in spiritual struggle. We tolerate too much within ourselves. We excuse our sins as trifles, forgetting they are poison. Our Lord is clear on the matter. Cut off the cause, sever the bond, uproot the passion. Better to suffer loss in this life than to lose eternal life. This is a call to vigilance, to stern warfare against sin, and to a holy fear of judgement. Here too Saint Michael serves as an icon for us. He is the prince of the heavenly hosts who did not tolerate the rebellion of Satan, but cast him and his angels down. If there is no place for compromise in heaven, there can be no compromise in our hearts.
The Gospel does not end with condemnation. Hear Christ’s tender charge, “See that you do not despise one of these little ones.” For their angels behold the face of the Father in heaven. On this feast, we remember especially that the angels are not distant. They are guardians of the weak, protectors of the innocent, defenders of the Church, and companions in our worship. Every Liturgy is filled with their unseen presence, and Saint Michael, the commander of the hosts of heaven, leads their ranks in constant intercession for us. The weakest among us are not despised by God. The unnoticed, the frail, the struggling—they are ever in His presence, and His holy angels bear witness to their dignity before His throne. Let us, then, fear lest by hardness of heart or by contempt we place ourselves in opposition to the Father’s will. Let us rather honour, defend, and uplift those whom the world despises.
Our Lord has spoken in both terror and consolation. He has warned us with threats that shake the soul, yet has held out promises that gladden the heart. Let us not take these words lightly. If the time is near, then repentance must be now. If the kingdom belongs to the humble, then pride must be cast down now. If stumbling-blocks bring woe, then vigilance must be exercised now. Yet to those who turn in faith, to those who cast themselves on the mercy of the Lamb, there is freedom, there is cleansing, there is adoption as sons and daughters of the kingdom. And today, as we stand with Saint Michael and the bodiless hosts, let us take courage in the fact that we do not fight alone. The angels of God surround us, defending us, urging us on to holiness, until we too may behold the face of the Father in heaven.
To Him be glory and dominion unto the ages of ages. Amen.
May God bless you +
Fr. Charles
29 September 2025
(For the Western Rite calendar)
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