Homily on the Fourth Sunday of Great Lent*
By Righteous Alexei Mechev
By Righteous Alexei Mechev
“He said: ‘Teacher, I brought my son to You, who has a mute spirit… and I told Your disciples to cast it out, but they could not’” (Mark 9:17–18).
Many times our Lord healed the sick, even those gravely ill and possessed by unclean spirits: with a single word, by a touch, even from a distance. More than once the disciples of the Lord, by the grace given to them by Him, healed the sick, cleansed lepers, and cast out demons. But today’s Gospel tells us an example of a difficult and prolonged healing of a man possessed by a spirit of muteness. At the time when Jesus Christ was on the mountain, withdrawn in prayer, among the multitude of people gathered to see and hear the Lord, a father came with his sick son. Not finding the Lord, he turned to His disciples: they made attempts, laid hands on him, but could not cast out the evil spirit. The unfortunate father then approaches the Lord upon His return from the mountain, and see how even here, in the hands of the Almighty, the work of healing is accomplished slowly. The Lord commands that the sick boy be brought to Him; at that moment the boy had a severe seizure, “he fell on the ground and rolled about, foaming at the mouth” (Mark 9:20). It would seem that the merciful heart of the Lord would incline Him immediately to compassion and healing. But the Lord asks questions: how long this has been happening to him, how often it occurs; and in response to the father’s urgent pleas, the Lord requires faith from him — and only when the father cried out to the Lord with tears (that is, weeping, stricken with grief, he threw himself before the Lord) — only then did the Lord command the evil spirit to come out of him. The word of the Almighty could not fail to act, but even here resistance was shown. The evil spirit cried out violently, shook the boy greatly, as if struggling to remain in him, and, weakened, departed from him. Is this not the history of the correction of our sins? Is this not a vivid image of the slowness and stubbornness with which we part from our passions and infirmities? The father is each one of us — he brings into the infirmary his own sick soul; does not the same happen to it as to the afflicted boy? We resort to the saving remedies of the Church — and they do not help: prayer does not act, fasting is not accepted by our time, confession is cold, and the Holy Mystery of Communion does not change the sinner.








