“We see Jesus, because of the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honor” (Heb 2:9).
In the past days of the Lord’s voluntary Passion, we saw Christ our Savior without glory and dishonored, as Isaiah said of Him: “We saw Him, and He had no form nor beauty, but His appearance was dishonored, diminished more than the sons of men” (Isa 53:2).
But on this present radiant feast of His Resurrection, beloved hearers, together with Saint John the Theologian, we see “His glory, glory as of the Only-begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth” (Jn 1:14).
At that time our Lord Jesus Christ was crowned with thorns for mockery. Now, for His glorification, He receives upon His head unfading flowers and praise.
At that time He was “numbered with the transgressors.” Now He is God among His own people, redeemed by His precious blood and freed from Hades. Now the Lord has appeared in the assembly of His saints, saying: “I am with you.”
At that time many passersby mocked Him. Now at His most holy name “every knee bows, in heaven, on earth, and under the earth.”
At that time they struck Him on the shoulders and cheeks, hanged Him on the tree after beating Him to the point of death, and then killed Him altogether. Now He has slain death and the devil.
“O death, where is thy sting? O Hades, where is thy victory?” At that time our Giver of life was dead. Now “the Lord lives, and blessed is God.”
At that time the sun was darkened at midday. Now “from the tomb the fair Sun of righteousness has shone upon us.” Together with the Apostle we “see Jesus, because of the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honor.”
Let us consider here briefly that the way to eternal glory and honor is no other than through many sufferings. For it was fitting that Christ Himself, the Author of our life, should accomplish it through sufferings.
“We see Jesus,” and so forth.
Let us raise our mind to heaven for a little while. Let us lay aside every “earthly care” and look through the Revelation of Saint John the Theologian.
Behold, we hear what takes place there. I hear a certain sound there, “like the voice of a great multitude, like the sound of many waters, and like the sound of mighty thunder” (Rev 19:7).
It is as though the voice of many angels around the throne, and of the living creatures and the elders. Their number is thousands of thousands.
What do they say? They command every creature in heaven, on earth, under the earth, and in the sea, that all prepare greeting and servile worship for a certain royal person seated on the throne of God.
Let us also look and see who has come to reign on the throne of God.
I thought that the lion had received the kingdom as conqueror, for “behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah has conquered” (Rev 5:5). And the Lord says, “To him who conquers I will grant to sit on My throne” (Rev 3:21).
But I do not see a lion on the throne of God. Then I thought that the eagle had received the kingdom, the one who covered his nest and, loving his young, spread out his wings, received them, and lifted them on his shoulders.
But I do not see an eagle on the throne either. Who, then, is this who could receive royal divine honor, and to whom every creature above and below would bow?
I look again, and behold, I see the Lamb enthroned, the Lamb who was slain. I hear thousands of thousands saying with a great voice: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain to receive power and riches and strength and wisdom and honor and glory and blessing” (Rev 5:12).
Here let us attend to this: one and the same Christ is lion, eagle, and lamb. He is lion because He conquered the world and death, and destroyed Hades.
He is eagle because He raised the souls of the saints like young birds on His wings and on His shoulders, and carried them out of Hades. He is lamb because He suffered for all.
Yet when He willed to be enthroned, He did not reign in the form of a lion or an eagle, but in the form of a slain lamb.
He showed that to the crown of the heavenly kingdom and to eternal glory there can be no other way than the way of wounds, slaughter, and sufferings.
If any earthly man wishes to receive a crown there, let him wound his heart with compunction. Let him slay his passions by mortification. Let him suffer in the labors of repentance.
Having looked at the heavens, let us now look at paradise as described in the Revelation of the Theologian. Besides its many wondrous and ineffable adornments, it has another adornment no less great.
It has “gates, twelve in number, and each one is of a single pearl” (Rev 21:21). The pearl, jewel, margarit, or pearl is so great there that a whole great gate of paradise is made from one pearl.
Pearl, margarit, jewel, and pearl are all alike images of tears. In Pierius, the pearl signifies a tear. In agreement with him, Suidas also says that when he sees that pearl in a dream vision, it signifies tears.
Saint Chrysostom also speaks in agreement with them: “The eyes of David, adorned with a rain of tears, were like margarits or pearls.”
I marveled greatly. If pearls are an image of tears and a sign of weeping, why are pearly gates found where nothing sorrowful is seen and no weeping is heard, but all is filled with ineffable joy?
But after considering it, I understood that all this is so that those who wish to enter the joy of paradise should strive to enter it by no other gates than tearful ones.
You see that the gates of paradise are made of pearl, and pearls signify a tear. Know, then, that one must enter paradise by tears. There is no other entrance into paradise except by the pearls of tears.
By tears, I say, one must enter paradise. Tears come from contrition of heart. Contrition of heart comes from sorrow and labors. Sorrow and labors come from grief over sins and suffering hardship for God.
Such is the path to the cool refreshment of paradise.
Let us recall the life of blessed Joseph. When God was preparing the fair Joseph in Egypt for a crown and authority, what path did He send him to this honor and glory?
Truly, it was thorny, narrow, and sorrowful. He sent him unexpected misfortune, a dark prison, heavy fetters, nakedness, hunger, and want of the most necessary things.
This path was long, and his fetters lasted long: “They humbled his feet in fetters; iron passed through his soul” (Ps 104:18).
Only after prolonged suffering did the king release him, make him lord of his house, and appoint him steward of his wealth. Severe was the path to royal honors.
This Joseph was a type of the sufferings of our Lord. There is no need to say much about what and how our Lord suffered before He received the kingdom, for all this is well known.
Now I shall go for refreshment into the garden of King Solomon and see what takes place there. Behold, I see the heavenly Bridegroom taking refreshment there.
He was betrothed to a bride from the earth, that is, to His Church, redeemed by His holy blood, and in particular to the soul of each Christian person.
Loving this bride more than His own soul, for He laid down His soul for her, He called her a lily: “As a lily among thorns, so is My bride” (Song 2:2).
Now I look to see where the heavenly Bridegroom will plant that lily, that is, His beloved bride. I thought He planted it in a spacious place among other fragrant flowers.
But He planted His lily among sharp thorns: “As a lily among thorns, so is My companion among the daughters.”
Here, prudent hearers, let us consider why the heavenly Bridegroom wishes to plant His lily, His bride, within a thorny enclosure: “a lily among thorns.”
For when He planted paradise in the east, He planted everywhere in it fruitful and shady trees. The New Jerusalem, shown to the Theologian in Revelation (Rev 21:10), is adorned with precious stones: sapphire, emerald, hyacinth, and topaz.
On its sides He built gates of pearl, and those from a whole precious stone. The fruitful vineyard in the Gospel, described by Saint Matthew, He enclosed with a strong hedge: “He set a hedge around it” (Mt 21:33).
Yet His beloved bride, for whom He did not spare even His soul on the Cross, He places on earth and preserves not in a paradisal garden enclosure, nor amid beautifully fruitful paradise, but in a single thorny, prickly enclosure.
“A lily among thorns.” The thorny enclosure must be better than those we have remembered. From the enclosure of paradise Adam was quickly driven out because of a beautiful and tasty fruit.
Lucifer stood only a little while among the pearly walls of the Apocalypse: “the morning star fell.” The husbandmen also killed the very heir of the vineyard, after casting him out of the vineyard.
Therefore you also, My companion, should be not in the vain sweetness of paradise, not in the brilliance of precious adornments, not in the vineyard of temporal gladness.
Be in thorns, in patient endurance of calamities, sorrows, and mortification, always bearing in the body the dying of Christ Jesus.
Why is this? So that, because you have received those sharp thorny spines and endured those calamities, you may receive in My bridal chamber the crown of glory.
Let the bride of Christ have for herself the true image of such a life. Behold, her heavenly Bridegroom Himself, Christ, appears to her as the image.
He died and rose. He suffered and was enthroned. He accepted dishonor and was glorified. She, together with the Apostle, sees Jesus, because of the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honor.
One might wonder that the King of glory was not ashamed to endure such dishonorable sufferings and death, in order to be clothed in His former glory.
But it is not wondrous that the glory of the Lord appeared like dawn in those very sufferings. For He who was going to His voluntary Passion said: “Now is the Son of Man glorified.”
If someone there had said, “Lord, Thou art going to suffering and dishonor, yet Thou sayest that Thou art glorified; perhaps later Thou wilt be glorified,” this would be untrue.
For the Passion itself is already glory, as one of the Fathers also says: “The Cross is the glory of the Son, just as the Son is the glory of the Father.”
The Cross and death are the glory of the Son, for they are the root, beginning, and mother of His glorification.
Dishonor gives birth to honor. The Cross gives birth to glory, and not only glory for the Lord Himself, but also for us, His servants and sons of the Eastern Church.
By His voluntary sufferings we too are glorified, as our mother, the Holy Church, sings: “Though Thou wast seized, O Christ, by lawless men, yet Thou art my God, and I shall not be ashamed.”
“Thou wast struck upon the shoulders, and I do not deny Thee. Thou wast nailed to the Cross, and I do not conceal it. I glory in Thy Resurrection, for Thy death is my life.”
Not only men, but also the bodiless angels are adorned and glorified by the Lord’s sufferings. Behold, we hear the angel announcing to the myrrh-bearing women: “You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He is risen; He is not here.”
If it were possible to correct an angel in his words, I would say to him: “Holy angel, do not mention the dishonor of the Lord’s crucifixion, saying, ‘You seek the crucified.’”
“I would rather say to those women: You seek Jesus, our Lord, your Teacher, and at the same time our Creator, Master, and King of glory.”
Yet even now, at the Resurrection, instead of royal titles the angel mentions the Cross. Instead of royal glory, he mentions dishonor.
By this he clearly shows that the sufferings themselves served as glory for Him and became a matter of special praise for the angels.
Saint Cyril of Jerusalem speaks beautifully of this: “Let us not be ashamed to confess the Cross of the Lord. The angels glory in it, saying: ‘You seek Jesus who was crucified.’”
“Could you not, O angel, have said, ‘I know whom you seek, my Jesus’? Yet you boldly say: ‘I know that you seek the crucified.’ For the Cross is a crown, not dishonor” (Catechesis 13).
Let us attend, then, that suffering is glory not only for Christ, but also for men and angels.