In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Glory to Jesus Christ. Glory forever.

Today, brothers and sisters, we celebrate the Triumph of Orthodoxy, the Sunday each year when we commemorate the restoration of the icons to the churches, the final embrace of icons after decades upon decades, almost two centuries of disputes and arguments, fights, violence, destruction, and then at the end of it, the triumphant return of the icons to the churches. And now we affirm that icons are not only okay, permitted, but in fact necessary for true and full worship. Necessary. How can that be?

We can see why the images of God were forbidden in the Old Testament. The Hebrews while Moses was meeting the Lord on Mount Sinai, this mysterious God whose face they did not know—they instead while Moses was up on the mountain in the fire and smoke and terror, they wanted something more down to earth, something more accessible to human imagination. And so they fashioned a golden calf, something they could see and grasp and set rules and boundaries about for how to approach this god of their own imagination.

But this one and all the others that human beings came up with during that time had nothing to do with the invisible, unapproachable, boundless, unknowable God. But with the coming of Jesus Christ, God literally comes down to our level. The boundless, unimaginable God takes recognizable form, something that we can see and approach and touch and embrace. And that form he takes is our own. He becomes a human being like ourselves.

And that is what lies truly at the heart of the Triumph of Orthodoxy. That God has claimed for himself a human face and has made himself known to us. The God that we cannot approach has approached us. The God that we cannot imagine has made his face known to us—something that we can see and rejoice in recognition. We can and should have icons of Jesus Christ because the visible human nature which is perfectly his also makes manifest his invisible divine nature.

It's not that icons are photographs or portraiture or anything like that. It's not an historical record trying to capture the particular details of his time and place and culture, you know, the little peculiarities of features and those kind of minor passing details. Not "this is Jesus age 10 and 12 and 20" and so on the way that we might with family photos or things like that, but rather setting before us that face that we can recognize and before which we can worship the presence of God.

And so we see where Nathanael in the Gospel today is going wrong because he's befuddled and caught up in what he imagines he sees and recognizes in Jesus as a man. And then he's convinced he's a rabbi, the Messiah—the Messiah that he thinks he knows what that means, and he thinks he knows what it means to call Jesus the Son of God. But his imagination is too constrained. His understanding is too limited. He does not have his eyes truly open to recognize how profoundly God is present right there before him.

He will come to know. He will come to understand that this body that he approaches, the person with whom he engages in conversation this day, this one he will see crucified and glorified in the resurrection, ascending to heaven from his earthly sight to sit at the right hand of the throne of God.

That's where all this leads. That is what is revealed in the icon that we celebrate, the icon of Christ. And then in all the saints as well, because that human form that Jesus the Son of God has claimed for himself and which sits eternal in heaven at the right hand of the Father—that same human nature that we possess that he has shown perfectly to be united with his divine nature—that same possibility by grace opens for us, that his divine nature may be united with ours in the great mystery of our salvation, that we too may find our place in the presence of God in glory. Not by our own efforts, by our own estimation, but by God working in us.

And this, brothers and sisters, is what lies before us, the goal to which we strive as we are beginning our efforts in the season of the fast. We heard this week, from Genesis, God saying, "Let us make man in our image." And so we come to know that we also are made in the image and likeness of God. We sinners that we know so well are broken and confused, messed up, deformed, defaced. How can it be? And many times we look at ourselves in the mirror. We look at our lives and consider that there is no good in it. There's nothing that can be redeemed. It's a mess.

Or perhaps we look at someone else, a family member, a former friend, an enemy, maybe just someone we see on the news, and we dismiss that one—someone that's irredeemable, that there is nothing good in that person. What can possibly be there that is worthy of the kingdom of heaven?

But that's imagination where we are blinded by the surface of things and what we see in the faces of those around us, where we are so caught up in the particularities, the details, the disappointments, the frustrations, the sins that we find in people's lives, in our own lives. They blind us. They confuse us. They capture our attention. They distract us from what lies underneath—the hidden truth that lies at the heart of every human being, of you and me, of those that we love and those that we hate. Irrevocably, unavoidably, indestructibly, there is imprinted on the life of every human being the face of God.

And as we allow our sight to be restored, we come to recognize what our merciful God who loves mankind sees clearly. Because he is not caught on the surface of things, the masks and disguises that we wear, the dirt and damage that covers us, but instead pierces to the heart. And he works upon the image that he finds on us if we allow it, to restore that fallen image.

And so the work of Lent begins where like a damaged icon set before a master craftsman is cleaned and scraped, removing everything that cannot remain and carefully picking out all that is true and right and applying what needs renewal—that new paint that makes everything bright and clear and real, so that at the last the icon shines brightly with joy and clarity and we can look upon it and see without any doubt: "Ah, here we see our way into heaven. Here we see the light of Christ shining forth. Here we know we find the presence of the living God."

For us we understand this in the icons that surround us, making manifest to our earthly sight what is already true invisible—that we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses of all the saints, those human beings, sinners like ourselves, who yet followed Christ and his commandments, who repented and allowed God to be at work in their lives to do that cleaning and scraping and restoration and renewal that was needed in their lives, so they shine with glory from around the throne of heaven.

That also is possible for you and me. That is what they are encouraging us with their own witness. They are cheering us on to make the same efforts, to begin the work of repentance, of setting aside all the snares of sin that so easily entangle us, that we would be freed to run the race that is set before us, so that we might meet the author and the finisher of our faith, the one who planted his image in us in the beginning and who will crown that image with glory at the end.

Brothers and sisters, we have hard work before us this Lent. And there are times when it can be greatly discouraging as we are all too aware of our own failures. But we also know that our Lord has provided every good thing that is necessary for us in our lives, making all things possible for us to be made new.

So let's begin. Let's join in with those who have gone before us, who are helping us along the way, as we are encouraged with the bright joy given us this day and all the days before us to complete the journey that is set for us, that we too may see wonders greater than we could possibly imagine beyond our sight. We will see heavens open and angels ascending and descending on the Son of Man.

Glory to Jesus Christ. Glory forever.