In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
In a small village nestled between two great hills, a deep chasm divided the land. On one side lived the people of Oakvale, and on the other, the people of Willowcrest. For generations, the two communities lived separately, rarely crossing paths. Though they shared the same valley, old feuds, misunderstandings, and prejudices kept them apart. Even the bridge that had once connected them had crumbled long ago, leaving only jagged ruins.
In Oakvale lived an old carpenter named Elias. Known for his kindness and skill, Elias often helped mend broken fences, carve sturdy doors, and repair the villagers’ homes. He had long mourned the division between the two communities, especially as he had once been a friend to the people of Willowcrest. “This chasm is not what God intended,” Elias would say, looking out at the deep gorge.
One day, while Elias was praying, a travelling stranger arrived in Oakvale. His presence was radiant, and his voice carried both authority and gentleness. “Elias,” said the stranger, “do you trust me?”
“I do,” replied Elias.
“Then gather your tools and come with me,” the stranger instructed.
Elias obeyed, and the two journeyed to the edge of the chasm. There, the stranger knelt, touching the earth, and declared, “It is time for the bridge to be rebuilt.” He handed Elias a plan, a design for a grand bridge that would unite Oakvale and Willowcrest once more.
Elias hesitated. “But the people do not speak to one another. They do not believe the bridge can be rebuilt, nor do they want it.”
The stranger smiled. “I will work through you, Elias. Lay the first beams, and you will see.”
Elias began the work, crafting each plank with care. As he toiled, people from Oakvale gathered, curious. “What are you doing?” they asked.
“I am rebuilding the bridge,” Elias answered. “It is time for us to be one people again.”
At first, many mocked him. “It’s useless,” they said. “The people of Willowcrest will never cross.”
But as they watched Elias work tirelessly, a few were moved. “We will help,” they said, and they joined him, cutting wood and hammering nails.
Word of the bridge reached Willowcrest, where some scoffed and jeered. But others, stirred by hope, crossed to help from their side. For the first time in decades, people from both villages worked together, sharing stories, tools, and meals.
One day, as Elias placed the final plank, a woman from Willowcrest arrived, bent and frail. She had walked the long, steep path around the chasm to reach the bridge. Seeing her struggle, Elias hurried to her side. “Why have you come?” he asked gently.
“I have carried this weight for years,” she said. “I believed there could never be peace between our people. But now, I see hope.”
As the people gathered on the completed bridge, the stranger returned, standing at the centre. “Elias,” he said, “you have built more than a bridge. You have rebuilt hearts. These people are no longer strangers but one household under God.”
He turned to the crowd. “This bridge is a sign of what I offer you: peace, reconciliation, and healing. Through me, divisions crumble, and burdens are lifted. Go forth and live as one people.”
The stranger then disappeared, leaving the people in awe. From that day forward, Oakvale and Willowcrest lived as one community, their lives intertwined and their hearts united. And at the centre of their unity stood the bridge, a symbol of the peace and healing that comes through faith and trust in God. As time passes, the bent woman too began to recover from her sicknesses.
Saint Paul tells us in his Epistle to the Ephesians that Christ has “broken down the middle wall of partition” (Eph. 2:14). This wall represents the divisions caused by sin, whether they be between Jew and Gentile, human and divine, or even within the hearts of individuals. Sin divides, isolates, and enslaves us, yet Christ, through His Incarnation, death, and resurrection, restores unity. Saint John Chrysostom writes, “He has made the enmity to cease—not by simply removing it, but by doing so through His great sacrifice. He reconciled us to God by becoming man, and thus united all things.” In Christ, there is no longer division, for He has created in Himself one new humanity, a living temple in which we are all members.
This unity is not merely theoretical; it is tangible and transformative, as shown in the Gospel account of the healing of the bent woman. For eighteen years, she was bound, unable to stand upright, a visible sign of humanity’s spiritual condition under the weight of sin. When Christ sees her, He calls her forward, lays His hands on her, and says, “Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity” (Luke 13:12). In that moment, she is not only physically healed but spiritually restored. Saint Cyril of Alexandria reflects on this miracle, saying, “Christ shows that He has come to set us free, not only from physical bondage but from the tyranny of the devil. The healing of the woman is a sign of the greater liberation that His kingdom brings.”
The reaction of the synagogue ruler, however, exposes the blindness of legalism and the hardness of the human heart. He is indignant that Jesus healed on the Sabbath, focusing on the letter of the law rather than its spirit. Yet Christ rebukes him with divine wisdom, pointing out that even on the Sabbath, people untie their animals to lead them to water. How much more, then, is it fitting to untie this daughter of Abraham from her bondage? Saint Basil the Great reminds us, “The law is not abolished but fulfilled in Christ, for its ultimate purpose is love. The Sabbath was made for man’s benefit, not for his enslavement.”
The healing of this woman on the Sabbath is a living icon of the peace and reconciliation Saint Paul describes. Christ restores her dignity, unites her with the community, and glorifies God in the process. This act reveals the true meaning of the Sabbath: a foretaste of the eternal rest and freedom found in God. It is a call to participate in the healing and unifying work of Christ, both within us and in the world around us.
As members of the Body of Christ, we are called to live as a holy temple, a dwelling place of God through the Spirit. This means that we must not only receive Christ’s peace but also embody it in our relationships and actions. Saint Gregory of Nyssa writes, “To be at peace is to reflect the very nature of God, for He is the source of all unity and harmony.” Thus, we are called to forgive, to reconcile, and to heal, following the example of our Saviour.
Let us, therefore, open our hearts to the grace of Christ, who breaks down every wall and sets us free from every bondage. Let us stand upright, glorifying God with our whole being, as we strive to become living stones in His holy temple. And let us never forget that Christ’s work of healing and unity is not confined to one day or one moment but is the eternal mission of His love.
May the peace of Christ dwell richly in our hearts, guiding us to live as His holy people, for the glory of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.
Copyright © 2025 The Rev. Adrian Augustus. The Russian Orthodox Church of the Archangel Michael, Blacktown, NSW
