Sermon for the Day of the Dormition of the Most Holy Mother of God

I will sing rejoicing at her falling asleep (Irmos, Ode 1).

Brothers, what does it mean that the Church calls the passing of the Mother of God not death, as we ordinarily call the passing of other people, but a falling asleep, or, what amounts to the same thing, a repose or a peaceful sleep, and that she not only does not grieve or weep at her tomb, but on the contrary sings joyful, triumphant hymns at her departure? It means that the most blessed Mother of the Lord did not, in fact, die as people ordinarily die, but, as it were, fell asleep for a short while in a peaceful sleep after the heavy sorrows of life, and that her tomb, which became for her a door to the heavenly kingdom, holds within it much joy for the Christian; from this tomb, as from the tomb of the risen Lord, there breathes upon us too a heavenly incorruption, or rather, this tomb unfailingly promises to us as well immortality of soul and incorruption of body, driving out from us the fear of death. Glory to the Conqueror of death, the Lord Jesus! Before His coming, death was very terrible for man, because it seized its prey irrevocably, and there was no means whatever of escaping it, since sin, by which death was strong, spread like a flood of the sea, and nothing had the power to hold back that flood; meanwhile it was known that people snatched away by death were held as captives in the place to which they ordinarily departed after death. There were, it is true, two or three examples of people who did not experience death at all, and one who obtained, by prayer and tears, a reprieve from death just as it had already stretched out its murderous hand toward him, and was told not to touch him for another fifteen years. But what did these two or three examples amount to, in comparison with the millions of people who died? The same as a drop in the ocean. Moreover, the last example was not entirely comforting for people, because King Hezekiah could not be entirely delivered from death, but only obtained a reprieve from it by his entreaty, while the first two—Enoch and Elijah—were reckoned inimitable in holiness of life, for which they were taken up alive into heaven. But what do we see now, after the appearing of the Lord in our flesh and after the victory He won over sin and death? All the terror of death has vanished; it has become, as it were, a peaceful sleep, after which a joyful morning of the universal resurrection will dawn. To the degree that each of us overcomes the sin still living in us—and now we have been given every means to overcome it (2Pet 1:3)—the fear of death vanishes too, so that the triumphant conquerors of sin joyfully welcome the bed of death, and no longer die, but truly fall asleep in a peaceful sleep. «Now, says St. Chrysostom, the Lord has crushed the gates of hell and destroyed the very face of death. But what am I saying—the face of death? He has even changed the very name of death, for it is now called no longer death, but repose and sleep.» The most evident example of this triumph over death we see in the most pure Mother of the Lord. She bowed down in the tomb only for a brief rest of the flesh. We say brief, because, according to tradition, on the third day after her death her most pure body was no longer found in the tomb; it was raised up and taken to heaven, where, together with her soul, it began to enjoy heavenly blessedness. After the Mother of God, we see the apostles and martyrs, who meet death with joy, as their greatest friend, who, in exchange for the fleeting goods of the present world, or in exchange for its misfortunes and sorrows, grants them the eternal joys of the heavenly Kingdom. After them we see all the saints, who likewise looked upon death with joy, seeing in it the end of earthly labors and the beginning of heavenly glory. The holy Church labors to instill in us too this same fearlessness of death, urging us to drive out the fear of it by the gradual uprooting of sins within ourselves, and she now calls her own dead by no other name than the fallen asleep—that is, as it were, those who have gone to sleep—because immortal life in the age to come is now so certain for us, and our right to it so sure, that we cannot, or ought not, look upon death otherwise than as sleep. Glory to the infinitely good God! Formerly people wept long and inconsolably over the dead, and it was even directly commanded to pour out tears over the dead: my child, says the God-enlightened sage, shed tears over the dead, and begin lamenting as one grievously afflicted… make the mourning bitter, and the wailing fervent, and observe the time of mourning as is fitting (Sir 38:16-17); but now, instead of graveside lamentation, we sing the hymn: alleluia, or praise God, glorifying the divine wisdom and goodness which has made death a passage to immortality.

Brothers! You who are partakers of the heavenly calling have seen on the icon of the all-honorable and glorious Dormition of the Mother of God how peacefully she reposes: what stillness, what a reflection of heavenly joy is on her face! This is truly a sleep, a brief passage from earth to heaven. Let us learn, then, ourselves, by zeal for virtue and contempt for vice, to make our own death a peaceful sleep. As long as sin reigns within us, death will remain terrible for us, for indeed, the death of sinners is grievous (Ps 33:22). Sin is the cause of death: as it is written, the wages of sin is death (Rom 6:23).

Let us then, as far as we are able, overcome sin within ourselves, as the cause of death. To overcome it is very hard only at first; afterward it becomes both easy and sweet, since, in proportion as the sufferings caused by our struggle with sin increase, Christ’s consolation will also increase (2Cor 1:5) within us, and the Lord, who said that His yoke is easy and His burden light (Mt 11:30), will surely make light and life-giving the labors of those who strive as well. Besides, what is gained through labor is prized the more dearly, and we take the greater delight in it. We were created for labor, not for idle ease and inaction. Yes, the heavenly glory that has no end is undoubtedly worth the utmost labors of a whole lifetime. This incomparable blessedness, this kingdom of glory, is not given freely. The kingdom of heaven, it is said, suffers violence — that is, it is obtained by force — and the violent take it by force (Mt 11:12).

Is it not because faith in the life of the age to come is weak in us that we are so slothful in overcoming our passions and evil inclinations? Yet that life is no less certain than our present life. Will He who gave us the beginning of life here on earth not grant us a full, perfect life in heaven? Yes, this must inevitably be so, and it would be harder for it not to be than for it to be. And of this the unfailing word of God assures us: all who are in the graves, it says, shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and having heard, shall live, and shall come forth, those who have done good, to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil, to the resurrection of judgment (Jn 5:28-29).

Brothers! Eternal life beyond the grave is beyond any doubt. But it is likewise beyond the slightest doubt that it may be of two kinds: blessed for the righteous, and tormenting for hardened sinners. Death is the boundary, the border between the present life and the life to come, and we do not know whether it is far from us or near. Let us always be ready to stand at this dread border between the two lives. Amen.