Immediately thereafter, the consequences of the punitive measures from Roman authorities are addressed. Looking back now, as Jerusalem lies in ruins—its destruction serving greater purposes—one can learn from the tangible decay of the city’s walls, guarding against a similar moral collapse. Approaching the city, Christ wept, lamenting, If only you had known on this day what brings you peace! Now, however, it is hidden from you, reminiscent of His prophetic warnings before the city's downfall. Our Savior continues this lament through His chosen ones, observing those who stray from righteous paths toward wickedness. He chastens them, yet they fail to grasp the reason for their chastisement, indulging in evil as described in Proverbs: enjoying the corrupting allure of sin (Proverbs 2:14). Had they recognized the punishment awaiting them, they would have mourned like those who remain vigilant. The sentiment resonates: Though you have the opportunity to learn what ensures your peace now, it remains hidden from you. The depraved soul, entangled in temporal pleasures, experiences a fleeting day of peace through worldly indulgences and honors, blind to the anxieties of forthcoming judgment. Ultimately, there will come a time when where the righteous find joy, she will suffer; what once brought peace will transform into bitterness, leading to internal conflict over the lack of foresight that led her to condemnation. Thus, it is stated: It is now hidden from your eyes. Bound to earthly pleasures, the wayward soul shies away from contemplating future afflictions, preferring present delights over spiritual awakening. When one surrenders to the transient, it is as if they are voluntarily heading toward the flames, eyes firmly shut. Proverbs captures this idea: I have seen in my vanity: the righteous perish in their righteousness; the wicked often thrive in their wickedness (Ecclesiastes 7:15). Therefore, Paul reminds us that even those who experience joy in the present must do so tempered by the remembrance of impending sorrow: and those who rejoice, as those who do not rejoice (1 Corinthians 7:30). Indeed, if joy is to be found now, it must exist alongside a sobering awareness of the coming judgment. A fearful soul retains moderation in present delight, fearing the divine retribution ahead. It is written: Blessed is the one who remains in awe continually; but whoever hardens their heart falls into trouble (Proverbs 28:14). Consequently, the severity of the future judgment will be unbearable for those who neglect to fear it now amid their transgressions. Understanding this, we are truly enlightened by the Voice of Truth when we look ahead with reverence and steadfastness towards our final test, knowing the wisdom that in all your works, remember your end, and you shall never sin (Sirach 7:39). Each day, we must reflect on the teachings of our Savior: If only you had recognized on this day what is necessary for your peace! Now, it is hidden from you. As long as the Just Judge withholds judgment, and the final vengeance remains at bay, we ought to consider the calamities on the horizon, mourn, and strive to amend our transgressions. We must consistently inspect our actions and atone for them with heartfelt repentance. No fleeting pleasure should distract us; nothing temporary should blind us to the dangers that lie ahead. Indeed, to be blind to the imminent trials that await us is a grave offense, just as it is declared: If only you had learned what is for your peace! Yet now it is hidden from your eyes. We must closely contemplate how dreadful the moment of death will be: the anguish, the retrospective acknowledgement of all misdeeds, the forgetfulness of former joys, the dread of facing the Judge. What use is there in present delights if they fade while facing what remains unwaveringly ahead? When beloved moments come to an end, the reality of a condition from which suffering knows no release begins. At that time, evil spirits will scrutinize the deeds of the departing soul, revealing sins selected for torment. Why single out the sinful alone, for even the righteous face scrutiny upon dying? Only One among humanity confidently states: There is not much longer for Me to speak, for the ruler of this world approaches and has nothing in Me (John 14:30). The ruler of this world, viewing Him as mortal, sought to find something to claim, but the Sinless One emerged from the world's corruption without fault. Peter, prior to his death, refrained from such assertions when confronted by this ruler, who was honored with the words: I will give you the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven (Matthew 16:19). Even Paul, who was taken up to the mysteries of the third heaven, did not presume to claim such authority (2 Corinthians 12:2). Likewise, John, who reclined at the table beside his Redeemer due to an extraordinary love, felt inadequate to declare this of himself (John 21:20). The Prophet proclaims, Behold, I was conceived in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me (Psalm 51:5), affirming that a life entered in sin could not escape its stain. The same Prophet states, No human being alive shall be justified before You (Psalm 143:2). Solomon warns: Be not too attentive to every word that is said, lest you hear your servant speak ill of you (Ecclesiastes 7:21). Hence, John reminds us that if we assert our sinlessness, we deceive ourselves and lack the truth (1 John 1:8). James concurs: For we all stumble greatly (James 3:2). It is widely acknowledged that all conceived from the flesh cannot evade sin, creating an advantage for the ruler of this world in their words, deeds, or thoughts. Yet he could neither seize them nor retain them, for He who paid the unpayable debt of death has liberated them. The Mediator of God and humanity, the Man Christ Jesus, freely assumed what He did not owe, freeing us from the rightful death of the soul through His own unjust death. Therefore it is proclaimed: For the ruler of this world approaches and has nothing in Me (John 14:30). Thus, we ought to engage in deep reflection, shedding daily tears, pondering the fierce nature of this ruler when we face death, especially since he sought to claim the One who bore no trace of sin. What then shall we say or do, burdened by countless wrongs? When the enemy searches for grounds against us and discovers so much to claim, what answer can we give? The only response is the knowledge of our refuge and hope, for we share something with Him—He in whom the ruler searched but found nothing. He alone is free among the dead (Psalm 88:6). From the chains of sin, we have been liberated into true freedom by being one with Him, who alone is unchained. It is apparent—and we must confess—that the ruler has many claims against us, yet he will lack the authority to claim us at death, for we are united with Him who contains nothing. However, what value is there in being united in faith if our actions separate us from Him? Christ warns: Not everyone who calls Me Lord, Lord will enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, our deeds must align with our belief. We should cleanse our sins with our daily sorrows, recompense past offenses with acts of love for both God and our neighbor, and offer good gifts to our brothers wherever possible. We become members of our Redeemer by our devotion to God and compassion toward our neighbor. Since people's hearts often awaken to love of God and neighbor more by examples than words, I want to share a miracle attributed to Deacon Epiphanius from the province of Isauria. He relays a story of a righteous monk, Martyrius, whose life was austere, making a visit to another monastery. Along the way, he encountered a leper suffering from a severely debilitating illness, unable to return to safety due to exhaustion. The monastic traveler, moved with compassion, cast aside his own mantle to carry the leper, cradling him tenderly as he made his way back to the monastery. Upon arrival, the spiritual leader shouted for the gates to be opened, declaring that Brother Martyrius was coming, carrying the Lord. As Martyrius entered the monastery, the supposed leper shed his tattered garments, revealing the glorious form of Christ ascending to heaven. He said to Martyrius: You did not shy away from me on earth; I will not be ashamed of you in heaven. When the holy man entered, the abbot asked him where the one he carried had gone. Martyrius replied he would have honored His feet had he known. He shared that he felt no burden while carrying him, for how could one who lifted the One who bore all burdens feel weighed down? This incident teaches us about the strength of compassion, highlighting how sincere mercy unites us with the Almighty. Approaching Him who is supreme requires us to humble ourselves and serve those rejected and despised. In physical pursuits, one strives for elevation; in spiritual matters, the more we abase ourselves through compassion, the higher we rise. Christ assures us that in the last days, He will declare: Inasmuch as you did it to the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me (Matthew 25:40). Prior to this final judgment, He graciously exemplified that those who extend charity to the needy do so because their love for Him compels them. Each deed of kindness towards those seen as unworthy earns greater reward than acts towards those deemed more deserving. What imperfection in human form surpasses that of Christ’s body, which is exalted above all? Yet, what could be more repugnant than the body of a leper, afflicted with sore and stench? Behold, He appeared in the guise of a leper, willing to present Himself in the most contemptible form. What is the purpose of this, if not to remind us, dull of heart, that he who desires to approach heaven should embrace humility and charity towards even the most overlooked of brethren? I intended to keep my message brief, but as the path of man is not his own (Jeremiah 10:23), it became necessary to share this proclamation, celebrating Him whom we honor, Who abides and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God, throughout all eternity. Amen.