I’m very glad we’re together again. Do you know why? Because with you I feel no anxiety. Greetings, my dear friends, on the divine paths. We’re together again on Piraiki Ecclesia at 91.2 FM, the station that speaks to our souls. And it does more than speak to our souls: it reaches deep into our hearts, transforms every cell of our being, and gives us the breath of God, oxygen. This station gives us strength; I could even say it gives us health. I don’t want to tell the joke about a grandmother who listened to this program and others, especially the Divine Liturgy on Piraiki Ecclesia. “I’ve got my health back, Father,” she said. I asked her, “What do you do?” Do you know this one? Listen. “When I’m upset and my head hurts,” she said, “I take the radio and put it against my head. When my back hurts, I put it against my back.”

This dear grandmother said, “Especially during the Divine Liturgy and the Paraklesis supplicatory services in the afternoon, I get better. So I have two radios: one to listen to and one to heal me. And when a friend says, ‘My head hurts, my back hurts, my legs hurt,’ I tell her, ‘Here’s the answer: put a radio there.’ ‘What would I do that for? I’m going to the doctor.’ ‘Put the radio where it hurts, and you’ll see: you’ll get better.’”

Piraiki Ecclesia—and above all, the words of God, the prayers offered to God over this station, and all the good things we hear here—truly bring healing. Of course, that lady should go to the doctor too. Every woman and every man in pain should see a doctor, because it could be something serious that needs attention. But, as we were saying before... Ah, why did I say at the start that I don’t like doing this program with you? Because I feel no pressure. When we spend this time together, I don’t have to say this, this, and this, while watching the clock anxiously with a sheet of paper in front of me: “You must say these words, or you’re done for.” We’ll say whatever comes up, as much as time allows. That puts my soul at ease, you see? I mean, you know, God isn’t pressuring us; we’ll say whatever we can. No one is chasing us.

It’s as if we have a syllabus to finish, and if we don’t finish it, we’ll fail an exam. But no one is scolding us. There is freedom, there is respect, and life moves along at its own gentle pace. The spiritual life cannot be hurried.

Once I was talking with someone, and a lot of time went by. I had other things I wanted to ask him, but the conversation went elsewhere, so I said, “Oh, you never did answer what I wanted to ask.” He said, “Don’t worry. What we did talk about will do you a great deal of good if you take it to heart.” Hearing even one little thing is enough; you don’t need a great many. “Tell us more. Solve our problems. Settle our questions.” Sometimes I speak at a parish or a parents’ group. At the end, some people want to ask questions, but there isn’t time for everyone, and they say, “You didn’t answer ours.” And I say, “What would come of it if I did?” And if I don’t, can nothing good come of that? It can still be good even when no one answers you. That’s all right. The answers are within you.

Think of all the answers you’ve received over the years from people of the Church, people of God, priests, theologians, and catechists. All those questions you asked and had answered—did you put the answers into practice? So you keep asking things, expecting someone else to solve the problem of your life. No one else can do that for you. Whoever they are, they can offer an opinion, what God has shown them, inspiration from God, and the grace of God. Even if they give you a prophecy, it will not come true by itself. You have to stir your own soul and let yourself be moved. Something begins to move within you; it takes hold of your whole being and moves you to take steps. No one else can undertake your struggle for you. You must struggle for your own happiness. Take your life into your own hands. Do the best you can and keep at it.

You’re young; you can do it. Young woman, you’ve made mistakes, but you’ll try again. Who told you that you would go through life without making mistakes? I’ve made them, everyone has, and so has everyone I’ve ever known. We’ll try again, like children in primary school writing A, B, then B again, then C, making a mistake, rubbing it out, rubbing it out again, wearing holes in the pages of their notebooks, leaving smudges and eraser marks. That’s life. Whether we’re ninety, sixty, forty, or twenty, we’re all children trying to understand the mystery of life: to understand and love God, to know Christ, to have our thoughts illumined and our troubled thinking calmed, to reach out to God, trust Him, and find rest and peace. This does not happen all at once, and it does not happen easily. It takes our whole life. Accept that.

Make peace with it. Come to terms with it—not with a resigned “What can we do? There’s no other way,” but gladly. This is how life is, and you will learn a great deal through all you go through.

Remember when we said that, within the Church and close to Christ, a person can be healed in soul and body? We spoke about that in another program. You may have heard it in a repeat broadcast; this program is also rebroadcast in the evening. Call the station at 210-41-18-602 or 210-41-18-640, or ask your local radio station, since the program goes out to many parts of Greece and across the world. They’ll tell you when it is repeated. And I greet all our friends, all our brothers and sisters listening everywhere. I won’t start naming names, because where would I begin?

Well... I greet those listening on the Greek islands—in Rhodes, Mytilene, Crete, and Lemnos. They’ve sent us so many messages, good wishes, and so much love. I greet those in Cyprus and abroad, in America and Chicago, including Greek Pulses of Chicago. Of course we love them and have not forgotten them. And I greet everyone who has given us so much through their love, their prayers, and the joy they have brought us. They made us feel close to them, dear to them, and loved. Many opened their homes and hearts to us. They welcomed us in, sat with us, shared meals with us, let us sleep in their homes and rooms, and cared for us. No one forgets things like that. And it truly is a great thing, this lesson I learned. See how I’ve wandered to another point? I meant to say this later, but that’s how it came out. What was it I learned...?

What I mean is, I learned to say thank you in the Church, because the Church teaches us to give thanks. What does that have to do with health? A tremendous amount. When you say thank you, it’s as though you give yourself a shot of vitamins. You strengthen your soul and bring joy to yourself. When you’re grateful to those who have done you good in life and you thank them, it brings health, joy, and a sense of well-being. Your blood seems to flow more freely, your blood sugar settles, your heart softens, and you grow quiet and peaceful. Even your blood pressure and all your readings seem to change. It is a great thing to be able to give thanks.

That is what you learn in the Church: it nurtures gratitude in you. The Divine Liturgy itself is called the Holy Eucharist, the giving of thanks. We thank God. We come before Him, then, not as creatures who are forever complaining, grumbling, and saying, “Give me this,” but saying, “We thank You, Lord. We thank You, O Lord our God.” Again and again, we give thanks. “Let us give thanks to the Lord.” “It is meet and right.” We say, “To hymn You, to bless You, to thank You, to worship You.” This rises from within us, and it is health for the soul and for the body too. A grateful person is healthier than an ungrateful one. Ingratitude makes a person wither.

You could also say that a person sinks into misery. Everything is wrong, everything seems to be grumbling at you, everything bothers you. When the sun is out: “Oh, this heat is unbearable!” When it rains: “Oh, this damp is dreadful!” When there’s traffic: “What is going on?” When Athens empties in August: “What has the place come to?” And in the end you ask:

“When will you ever be satisfied?” Never. What do you actually like? It is a great thing to be content and grateful. It shows health of soul and body. Constant resentment poisons your body. You fill yourself with these complaints all day long: the food is wrong, the weather is wrong, the salt, the clothes, the shops that closed early, the rooster in the village that woke you in the morning, the rain that keeps you indoors. Do you think none of that affects your body?

Are you calm? Feel your pulse at a moment like that. Imagine looking inside your body with medical equipment. There have been experiments, you know, comparing people in a state of gratitude, spiritual life, and prayer with people caught up in constant grumbling. Those who keep grumbling, complaining, and reacting against everything have the most poisoned bodies inside.

It shows. That’s why, if you remember, Father Porphyrios—many books written about Saint Porphyrios the Kafsokalyvite tell this story—would take a person’s hand. Someone would come to him, he would feel their pulse, and he could tell how the blood was flowing and how the organs of the body were doing. “How are you?” he would ask. Because, as he would say, if you’re full of dissatisfaction and ingratitude, your body won’t be well either. This matters a great deal. It reminds me of something a young man once asked me...

I keep moving from one thing to another, but as we said, Glory to God, this program lets me do that. So a young man said to me, “I want to marry a young woman. What advice would you give me?” I said, “I can’t decide that for you. It’s your life; do as you think best. You must choose her, because you will bear the responsibility.” “I’m not asking you to decide every detail,” he said. “Just tell me one quality I should look for in her.” “Beauty?” “No, I can judge that for myself.” “Wealth?” “I don’t care about that.” “Ah, you mean a quality of character. Well, from what I’ve seen, one of the loveliest things to look for in the woman you marry is that she be easygoing, straightforward, and free of constant grumbling. Someone who doesn’t complain about everything, but has a contented soul. If you say, ‘We can’t go out tomorrow,’ she says, ‘That’s all right.’ And if you say, ‘Let’s go out tomorrow,’ she says, ‘Let’s go.’ ‘Let’s have chocolate cake.’ ‘All right.’ ‘Or perhaps vanilla would be better.’ ‘Vanilla it is.’ That kind of person can adapt and be flexible. As I’ve said before, she goes with the flow. She flows like water. She doesn’t resist everything. That resistance...

...will irritate you, wear you out, and make you ill. It will wear her down too, and she’ll pass it on to the children. Grumbling is contagious. A man once asked me to speak to his wife about this. “Please,” he said, “my wife listens to you. Say something to her.” “I don’t know whether she listens to me either. Don’t be so sure.” “No, please give her some advice.” “All right. Tell me one thing I should say. You have several complaints, I’m sure, but don’t give me all of them now. Just one thing she can work on, little by little.” “If she does this one thing,” he said, “the rest will follow.” “What is it?” “Please tell her to stop grumbling at me. I can’t bear it. I come home and she mutters, shouts, complains; everything is wrong. Then I sit down to eat, and she brings me my food amid all that. Eating becomes an ordeal. What I’m eating isn’t food anymore; it’s poison.”

“And then there’s this,” he said. “I don’t fast, Father. I can’t fast, and I have my reasons. If I don’t eat meat, I collapse,” and he gave me other reasons like that. “But believe me, Father, even the meat I eat on a Friday, with all that grumbling over my head, God must surely count as fasting food. It can’t possibly count as a rich meal when there’s so much complaining, muttering, and arguing over my head.” From the little I’ve seen in my experience with people, one of the best things to seek in a relationship is freedom from that constant dissatisfaction. Look for gratitude. You learn it within the Church, of course, if you truly live as a person of Christ. Let me ask you something: are you a person of Christ? Well, I don’t want to spoil the picture you have of yourself, but let me say this...

Anyway, I won’t speak about you; I’ll speak about myself. I feel that I don’t belong to Christ as fully as I should. To say, “I am a person of Christ,” is a very great claim. It calls for a great deal of thought, deep searching, and an honest look in the mirror. You have to look at Christ sincerely and ask Him, “Am I truly Yours? Am I Your creature, Your child? Do I come from You? Do I have Your grace in me? Am I a Christian?” That is a great claim. That’s why I say that if you live within the Church as you should, you will learn this. Another young woman once asked me, “I want to marry someone, but he isn’t very involved in the Church. Should I marry him?”

He was a very good man, a fine young man. So I asked her, “What do you mean, he isn’t part of the Church? Does he belong to something else?” “No,” she said, “he’s a Christian, but he isn’t part of the Church.” And I asked, “Forgive me, but are you part of the Church?” “Of course I am,” she said.

So I said, “Forgive me, but all those things you’ve been confessing for years—are they part of the Church? The things you do?” “Well, no,” she said, “but he does things like that too. He just hasn’t learned to go to confession yet. Still, he’s a very good man, with a good heart and good intentions.” “And don’t forget,” I told her, “judging others, jealousy, slander, dislike…” Not speaking to certain relatives, for instance—none of that belongs to the life of the Church. We need to think carefully about what we mean by these words.

My dear friends, we need to think again about what these words mean and ask ourselves from time to time: Do I belong to Christ? Am I a Christian? Do I think rightly? Do I believe rightly? Do I love God? Then why am I like this?

Why am I so troubled, so anxious, so full of worry—and so ungrateful? We’ve been saying that in the Church you learn gratitude. Saint Paisios of the Holy Mountain used to speak of this. He suffered terribly from a tumor in his colon. He couldn’t sit or even rest comfortably on his bed, and at night he couldn’t sleep because he kept turning, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt. Later, when he saw people sitting in their chairs, he would ask, “Can you sit?” “I can, Father. That’s the simplest thing.” “It isn’t simple, my child,” he would say. “Give thanks to God even for this: that I can sit down. Don’t take it for granted. Some people can’t.”

Gratitude is a great thing. It shows a sensitive soul, someone who notices little reasons for joy. I see a small flower. Someone else says, “So what?” But you say, “Glory to God, I saw a little flower.” That lifts your soul. It gives you more health and joy, and raises you up in body and soul, as we’ve said. That’s what we’re talking about in these broadcasts: the way we face the world in our souls affects our bodies and our physical health too. Saint Paisios of the Holy Mountain also used to have frequent migraines and terrible headaches. One day, when his head didn’t hurt, some people he knew came to see him, and he said, “You know, it’s rather nice when your head doesn’t hurt. Rather nice indeed.”

“Why do you say that, Elder? Does your head hurt all the time?” they asked. “It does,” he said, “but today it doesn’t. Now I can see how wonderful it is to have a day without a headache.” People who have been through such trials know what he means. Then they’ll say, “Don’t be so upset. Your head doesn’t hurt today. Your teeth don’t hurt either.” Another woman told me, “Father, I hope you never have to deal with teeth that need replacing, dentures and all that. I’ve been going back and forth for two years now. Some need implants, some need screws, some need special crowns. It’s a great ordeal. If you still have your teeth, say, ‘Glory to God.’” It had never occurred to me to say “Glory to God” for my teeth. I thought, why my teeth? I haven’t even seen them, except in a mirror. Well, that’s how we see our own teeth. Without a mirror, we wouldn’t see that we had any.

Have you ever thought of that? We’d see teeth in other people’s mouths, of course. We should say “thank you.” I understood why one night when my tooth hurt so badly that I was searching for a dentist. I thought, “Please, what am I going to do?” Giving thanks is very good for us. It shows that we’re human: I receive love, and I say thank you. It means I felt it; I’m not numb to it. And if you’re not numb, you’re healthy. Isn’t that what health is, not being numb? Once, a boy from the school came to see us. He’d had a tumor, cancer in his lymph nodes, and his life had been in great danger. But with God’s help, and through his parents’ prayers and love, he survived. After some chemotherapy, when he’d recovered a little, he came to the school to see us and said to me, “Tell the children…”

“…to thank God that they can swallow their milk and water in the morning. And something else,” he said, “even their own saliva. As I’m speaking to you now, I can’t swallow. The pain is terrible. I can’t even swallow my saliva.” I said, “Really? Does it hurt that much?” And as he told me, I swallowed my own saliva. I did it without noticing, without realizing that even this could be a reason for joy. Thank You, my God, that I can do this too; that I have legs and can walk; that I can sit here now and speak to you into a microphone, think, and move my hands as I explain things. I’m gesturing as I speak. None of this is something everyone can take for granted. Not everyone has these abilities.

Gratitude matters: remembering all the gifts God has given you in your life, instead of dwelling on what you lack. Look at what you have and give thanks for it—for your eyes, for example. I know that some of you cannot see. I know and dearly love people who listen to this broadcast but cannot see, not even the radio they’re listening to. They can never see me either, but they can feel. These souls have light within them, and they feel things deeply in their hearts. But you and I, with God’s help, can see for now. Give thanks for your eyes. This is what the Church teaches you. In Christ, you learn a whole spirit of gratitude. You learn to say thank you.

Once I tried something I’d heard suggested as an experiment: “Close your eyes for a little while, or put on a blindfold, and walk around your own home for three minutes. Try doing a few things and see how hard it is.” I didn’t use a blindfold; I just closed my eyes. I couldn’t move about comfortably, even in the home where I’d lived for years. It was especially hard when I tried to find things—the glasses, the forks. I bumped into cupboards, tables, and chairs. It was very difficult. So give thanks for your eyes, your ears, and all that you have. Whether you have a husband or a child, or whether you don’t, you may not know why God permits all these things. Still, giving thanks will do you a great deal of good. It’s like taking medicine—medicine for your health.

It helps so much. Saint Basil the Great says this in his homily “Take Heed to Yourself.” If you read it in a volume of patristic writings, you’ll find him saying: look at your teeth, look at your body, and let that be a reason to thank God. Look at how God has made your body. You stand upright, while the other creatures, the animals, walk on all fours. You stand upright. Your head is held high so you can look all around you, and four of your five senses are there in your head.

Have you thought about that? So many of our senses are gathered in our heads: our eyes for sight, our ears for hearing, our nose for smell, and our mouth for taste. Then we have our hands for touch. They’re all close together.

Each sense helps the others, and they work in harmony. Together, Saint Basil says, they help you see the beauty and wonder of how you were made, and lead you to thank God. Why do I grumble and complain? I’ve been given so many gifts. God made me. I too have a purpose in life, a future; I too have something to do in this world. Today I cry, tomorrow I’ll laugh. And, just between us, the day after that I’ll cry again. But then I’ll laugh again. What will I learn in the end? That this is life.

Once I learn that, I’ll be able to keep a quiet smile within me even while I cry, because I’ll know that joy will come again. I’ll say, “All right, this is life. Today we cry and mourn, but a year from now there will be gentler, happier, calmer moments that feel easier to bear.” In the end, everything in life can be of benefit. That doesn’t mean it’s pleasant. I’ll say it again: it isn’t always pleasant. Medicine can be bitter and unpleasant, but it helps us. We have to take it to recover from what troubles us.

The Church also helps your health greatly through prayer when you live as a person of God. When prayer is truly an encounter with God, you feel that you are touching Him and that He is touching you. You feel someone draw so close that His touch seems to run through your whole being. You grow peaceful and calm, and experience something beautiful. That can be a great help to your health.

Prayer is healing. Many Saints work miracles through their prayers, and many people have themselves been healed through prayer. They offered another prayer to that Saint and felt, “He is helping me and healing me.” Prayer is a great thing.

What matters is to feel that touch of God, of the Saint, and of God’s grace. Otherwise, what we call prayer is often just a list of concerns: our complaints, our sorrows, our grumbling. “Find this for me. I want that.” There is a difference, though…

Would I tell you not to ask? Of course you should ask. But we need to rise beyond these small concerns of ours, to break through the clouds and reach out toward God’s boundless presence. Then we can tell Him our troubles. That’s the difference. Before we have felt God Himself, we may only be telling ourselves about our problems. We think we’ve told God, but we’ve really told ourselves. Prayer, as we often make it, becomes a conversation with ourselves instead of a conversation with God. When we feel God, we’ll speak to Him differently about what we need.

We’ll bring Him our concerns differently, and our problems will affect us differently too. I had a friend who had lived with multiple sclerosis since he was a young man, in his twenties, after his studies. He went to Saint Nektarios of Aegina to ask for healing. On the way, he prayed—but he wasn’t praying about his illness. He prayed to feel God.

There’s a great difference. You can say to God, “I want to feel You, to know who You are, and then tell You if there’s anything else.” Or you can say, “My God, I want to feel You so I can ask You for a favor right away. I want to receive something.” My friend didn’t pray like that. He said, “I want to feel God.” That means so much. And then, as they say, whatever comes after that.

Thank you. He says that when he felt Saint Nektarios of Aegina close to him—his grace, love, tenderness, and fatherly care—he no longer wanted to ask him to make him well. He did not ask. He simply said, “Do whatever you wish. It is enough that you love me. It is enough that I have felt this great gift: your presence, your caress, your kiss, your tenderness, your fragrance. Whether you grant me what I asked for no longer matters. I feel so well.” In the end, it is our soul that feels well, and what matters is how our soul receives things. Your hand might be healed, for example, and you might still be full of sorrow because your soul has not been healed. Healing in the body does not necessarily make you happy. And likewise...

If a poor man is given money, does that mean he will be smiling tomorrow? No. He may smile today, but tomorrow his complaints and his troubled state of soul may appear somewhere else. A difficult person is difficult wherever he goes. A confused person is confused wherever he goes. We just find reasons to say, “Once I get well, you’ll see, all my troubles will disappear.” Things do not work that way.

So he felt God. Have you ever felt God? Have you felt Him? What you have felt is a great thing, a great thing, a powerful experience. You may not have felt it all the time, but those few moments when you have felt Him in your life—and you will feel Him now and in the future—are a great thing. It is as if someone tells you, tells you, “There is a jar of honey in the cupboard,” and you talk about it and think about it. But it is different when you take down the jar, open the lid, reach in, taste it, and put your mouth to it. Then you will not say, “You know, I have heard about honey. People have told me about honey. I have read about honey.” Instead you will say, “Friends, my mouth is dripping with honey. I have honey.” That is how God is. He is the One...

...whom a person experiences, not merely the One a person talks about. Words help. A wedding invitation helps you know when the wedding will be and which church to go to, so you can find your way there. But if you only look at the invitation and never go, you miss the wedding.

It is not enough to look at an invitation that says, “We would be delighted to see you at our wedding, at such and such a church.” You read it and think, “How nice.” Then the days pass, you do not go, and you miss the wedding. So it is not enough to talk about God. What matters is to experience God, to truly bear God within us—to have dwelling within us...

...the presence of God, His grace, His mercy, His love, His radiance, His light, His tenderness, His compassion, His healing...

...His healing grace. That is a great thing, and you have felt it. I know you have. You may not feel it strongly right now, because if you did, you would not be listening to radio programs. When you feel it, you want nothing else. You are living something so beautiful; you are happy and fulfilled. Still, words can help you make a better effort to draw near to God. Do the same for your child.

If your child is ill, pray. If your husband or wife is ill, pray. Pierce through the heavens and the galaxies; pass through them all and rise higher and higher. Leave earthly things behind. Do not let your nous, your spiritual mind, dwell on all the things happening here. Go to the One who is beyond all this.

There you will see only light and love. And in that light, try to place the people you love. That is what the Saints say, as far as I have read. Let that light shine upon those you love, and picture them as they appear in icons, with a halo. What is a halo? A ring, a circle of light around them.

Picture your child with that halo, within the light. Suppose your child is caught up in drugs and comes home at three, four, or five in the morning. Calling over and over, screaming, threatening to lock them out, calling the police, arguing and fighting—none of that will bring the result you hope for. Healing comes through the radiance of that light. Bring light to your child. But to do that, you must first have touched and felt it yourself. The sign that you have felt it is peace. I say it again: the sign is peace. If you pray and remain troubled, it means you have not touched God.

Does that mean I should say you prayed badly? No, it is not a matter of calling your prayer good or bad. That is simply how it came from you. These things are not buttons you press to make them work. Much depends on what God wills, what you do, what each day brings, and what gift He gives you, if He gives one at all—when, for how long, and what kind. But if you want to know whether your prayer has reached God and you have felt Him, look for the trust, surrender, and calm that follow. We often pray and then become nervous, angry, and anxious all over again. Let me give you an example. Someone said to me, “Please offer a Paraklesis, a supplicatory canon, for the children taking exams.” We did, praying to the Saints, to God, and to the Most Holy Theotokos. Afterward, a young woman came up to me saying, “I can’t do it, I can’t do it.” I asked, “Did you like the Paraklesis?” “Very much,” she said, “but I can’t do it. I won’t pass. I’m finished. I’m going to fail.”

She does not realize that the prayer has not touched her. It cannot have touched her. That is why I say that if prayer in the Church truly touched us, we would be much better and much healthier. We would not fall ill so easily.

We would not let illness enter us. When an illness approaches the body and finds its defenses weakened... And when do our defenses weaken? When our soul has also collapsed: when you are worn down, sorrowful, anxious, and emotionally exhausted.

Then germs, viruses, and illnesses find an easy place to settle, as though the doors were open. But when they find well-being, life, joy, and good spirits... As the words say, “The light of Christ shines upon all.” Imagine a virus trying to enter a body alive with joy, praise, and gratitude, fragrant with Holy Communion, the grace of God, and prayer. You may ask, “Do you really mean that?” I cannot say exactly how illness enters such a body, but I believe it will meet great resistance if the body is alive with God’s grace and presence. Illness did enter the bodies of Saints too. They became sick, suffered, and died. But they saw their suffering within a different purpose and a different plan.

Many of them healed other sick people while saying to God, “My God, make this person well, even if I must bear something myself. I do not mind.” Their own situation has to be understood differently. Saint Porphyrios the Kafsokalyvite said that when he was young on the Holy Mountain and was diagnosed with cancer, he ran into the forest crying out with joy, “Thank You, my Christ, that I have cancer.” I think that is beyond our grasp. For him, it was deeply healing. Though he suffered from youth, he lived to an old age. Why did God keep him alive? Through all this, he became more saintly and more compassionate toward everyone. He understood those in pain because he himself was in pain. Yet he never complained or turned against God. So take that whole experience of illness. If you are like that in prayer, you will see things go much better, and you will help your child much more. You cannot help another person or heal a situation...

...with shouting, screaming, and agitation. How can agitation heal agitation? Someone said to me, “How can demons be driven out by bringing in new demons?” You try to drive out another person’s demons while carrying your own: you scream, curse, and fight. Those are new demons. Demons do not drive out demons; and even if they did, demons would return. For healing to come to our soul, we need to loosen our hold on earthly things and connect with the source of healing, the great Physician, the healer of our souls and bodies. From Him we draw healing, strength, grace, light, and hope. No problem is beyond Christ. No illness is beyond Him.

Whenever anyone stood before Christ, He never said, “This one is too difficult for Me. I cannot help this person.” He knew that if a person opened up, if their soul blossomed, if they trusted God and asked in faith for healing, it would come. The difficulty lay with the people, not with Christ. That is why the account says that when He went to a certain town, He could not perform even one mighty work...

...not even one miracle. And it gives the reason: “Because of their unbelief.” The people could not believe. They did not trust Him or reach the heart of Christ. Many touched His body, the body of the Lord, but no power came forth for them, because their own souls had not opened.

Many people receive Holy Communion, yet nothing changes. We priests receive Holy Communion too, and it does not always change us. It is not enough to say, “I went through the motions.” Something has to move within you. You have to change inwardly as well. Otherwise we could receive Holy Communion day and night and all be healed. But healing does not happen magically, without our participation. As the Lord asked, “Do you believe?” You have your part to give.

“Do you believe I can make you well?” Or, “Do you want Me to make you well?” That is how healing comes to our souls and bodies. Today we have spoken about gratitude, prayer, fasting, and... These things we learn in the Church become a way of life and help us live better. And I am deeply moved when I see people preparing to go to the hospital for an operation, and before they go...

Before they go, they pray, go to confession, and receive Holy Communion. A woman who was going in for kidney surgery told me, “I feel very calm.” I said, “That’s wonderful.” Many doctors have said the same thing: “When we see patients who truly believe in God and have peace, do you know how much faster they recover? Much faster.” Everything helps bring health and healing. These patients work with their doctors and trust in God’s grace. But when someone has no faith, resists everything, gets angry, loses hope, and sees no light ahead, that person finds it harder to recover.

They suffer. Some experiments abroad used brain scans, wires, and other equipment on people undergoing medical procedures and surgery. Some believed in God; others had no connection with faith. Again, they found that those who believed cooperated much better and recovered much faster. Nurses have seen it too. They say that people of the Church who love God can be exemplary patients: their faces are peaceful, and they have faith and hope. Faith is a great thing. Faith works miracles. Faith means seeing before you...

...what is unseen, but is on its way.

Scripture calls faith “the evidence of things not seen.” The evidence of things not seen. It means that you can have a hold of what you cannot yet see. More than that, you can almost touch it and feel it as though it were already here. Someone says to me, “Please serve Holy Unction for my sick relative.” But while I was preparing to do that, someone else was going to the funeral home. I said, “What are you doing? Do you believe or don’t you?” They said, “Let’s do both, in case it doesn’t work.” Someone answered, “Nothing will work that way.” If we ask for health while expecting death, that is not faith. Faith means expecting healing, believing in it, living it before it comes, and seeing that it is on its way.

A young woman says, “Pray that I pass the national exams, though I can’t see it happening.” If you can’t see it—and I’m struck by the word you chose—then you haven’t learned to see what is unseen. Learn to see. Actually, I tell her, you are seeing something: you’re seeing failure. Learn to see success, the gift of God that is coming. If you don’t believe, God will say, “My child, let it be according to your faith.” You say, “I won’t get well.” Why not? Because that is what you have believed. You have given yourself over to failure and placed all your trust in it. That is where you have invested yourself, and that is what you will live out. Place your trust in Christ, and look to Christ for healing and a miracle.

I haven’t said everything I wanted to say. There is much more to say about health, and we’ll continue this another time. All the broadcasts are also on my personal website, which you can find online, and you can download them whenever you like. But it is lovely to listen together while the program is on. You know that many others are listening too; we are keeping one another company. There are many of us. So let us pray together now for everyone listening, especially those who are ill. Whether we are ill or well, let us ask God for one another.

Let us ask Saint Panteleimon, Saint Nektarios, the Holy Unmercenary Healers, Saint Parthenios, Saint Stylianos, Saint Paraskevi, Saint Marina, and all the saints we love to pray for them. Let us give them this gift. And you who are listening, know that many others listening have prayed for you. Their prayers will reach you too. Thousands of people have just prayed for you without knowing you, but God knows you.

I pray that God’s grace reaches deep into your soul, touches your body too, and changes your life. May it give you back the smile you have forgotten for so long—a smile you truly deserve. May you smile and stand on your feet, or on the feet of your soul if you cannot walk, and keep your spirits up. May Christ grant you what you long for. The phone numbers for the program are 210-4118-602 and 210-4118-640. The email address is atheata.perasmata@yahoo.gr. Vasilis Chatzinikolaou, thank you very much, and thank you for the final piece you are about to play for us.

Thank you for your kind words about our books. You tell me that some people give them out, including as gifts to others: “Strengthen Your Soul” and “Love Forever.” These two books contain written versions of the broadcasts, along with the corresponding MP3 recordings, so you can both listen to what we say and read it.

...give them to some friends. Thank you for everything. I am grateful to God for everything. And forgive me for anything I have done wrong. May God give you strength. Take care, and I’ll be waiting for you next week. Farewell.