Reflections on Luke 6:6-10
“Now it happened on another Sabbath, also, that He entered the synagogue and taught. And a man was there whose right hand was withered. So the scribes and Pharisees watched Him closely, whether He would heal on the Sabbath, that they might find an accusation against Him.
But He knew their thoughts, and said to the man who had the withered hand, ‘Arise and stand here.’ And he arose and stood. Then Jesus said to them, ‘I will ask you one thing: Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do evil, to save life or to destroy?’
And when He had looked around at them all, He said to the man, ‘Stretch out your hand.’ And he did so, and his hand was restored as whole as the other” (Luke 6:6-10).
When Christ healed the man with the withered hand on the Sabbath, He asked, “Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath, or to do harm? To save a life, or to kill?” (Luke 6:9). The hearts of the Pharisees, hardened by self-love and legalism, are unable to perceive the mercy and love of God manifest in His actions. The answers was self-evident, yet Christ’s question to them is not just a rebuke but an invitation to transcend the letter of the Law and embrace its spirit: love, mercy, and life in communion with God.
The Pharisees’ response reveals a profound truth about the human condition. St. Maximos the Confessor teaches that God’s love shines on all, but our response determines its effect. A heart cleaving to God softens like wax, receiving His imprint, while one clinging to the world hardens like clay, becoming resistant to grace, and leading to destruction.[1] This dual experience of God’s love—as both blessing and judgement—is at the heart of Christ’s Sermon on the Plain (Lk. 6:20-49) and remains as relevant today as it was in the Second Temple period.
We, too, struggle with this Pharisaical inclination toward externalities, in a world that predominately revolves around consumption, material progress, and individual success over spiritual growth and certainly humility before God. It is difficult to allow God’s grace to penetrate our innermost core, softening our hearts, becoming wax—impressed and stamped by divine realities with likeness of the image of God emerging more and more through repentance.
The opposite of a life of repentance is spiritual blindness—a heart hardened by the darkness of delusion (prelest). When we place our faith in worldly things and walk according to the flesh, we become self-reliant and seek self-justification. In doing so, we risk becoming instruments of the devil’s malice, harming both ourselves and those around us.
St. Maximos the Confessor explains the root of such spiritual blindness: “the devil has deceived us by guile in a malicious and cunning way, provoking us through self-love to sensual pleasure. He has separated us in our wills from God and from each other; … cutting [humanity] up into many opinions and fantasies.”[2] This self-love breeds ignorance of God and tyranny over others, as seen in the Pharisees’ legalism and oppression.
The proverbial beam is in our eyes! While God’s wrath tempers us and leads us to repentance, the wrath of man asserts his will over others and usurps the throne of God in a fiery condemnation of their neighbors. In rejecting the blessings of God’s love, we become a reproach to ourselves and a woe to our fellow man. St. Bede writes:
“Thorns and brambles are bushels full of briers. They represent the hearts of those disfigured by the prickliness of self-indulgence, envy, concupiscence, and by the sharpness of irascibility, calumny, hatred, pride, and bitterness–persons who are disagreeable toward their neighbors and as it were intractable.” [3]
We live in a world where self-indulgence has become a way of life, with every imaginable desire available at our fingertips. Social media, once a tool for connection, now fragments us into countless opinions and fantasies, fueling a hyper-individualistic worldview. This culture of relentless self-improvement and personal branding has dehumanized us, reducing our personhood to metrics of productivity and performance.
In this pursuit of material wealth, fame, and recognition, we exploit others and pervert the image of God within ourselves. Just as the Pharisees’ legalism masked a love of self, our culture’s fixation on self-promotion conceals a deeper spiritual void—a failure to love God and neighbor. This societal fragmentation mirrors the spiritual delusion St. Maximos describes, where self-love separates us from God and each other, cutting humanity into pieces driven by malice and self-interest.
Against this backdrop, Christ’s actions stand as a radical call to repentance and transformation. He reveals that true fulfillment of the Law is found not in rigid observance but in love that gives life. This love is not abstract or sentimental; it is active and sacrificial, as seen in Christ’s healing of the man’s withered hand. By restoring the man’s ability to work and participate in the life of the community, Christ demonstrates that love is inherently restorative and unifying.
The saints embody this truth. St. Nektarios of Aegina, for example, lived a life of humility and service, avoiding the public eye and dedicating himself to the care of others. St. Nektarios’ life reminds us that true greatness lies not in seeking recognition but in loving God and neighbor with a pure heart. This love is the antidote to the fragmentation and isolation of our age, drawing us into communion with God and each other.
Like last week’s Gospel reading, Christ’s presence demands a response. To answer His call, we must first examine our hearts. Are we, like the Pharisees, clinging to self-love and the approval of others, or are we allowing God’s grace to transform us? The path to transformation begins with repentance—a turning away from the distractions and idols of this world and a turning toward God. It is a lifelong journey of cultivating humility, mercy, and a heart open to His love.
This Gospel reminds us that the fulfillment of the Law is not in outward observance but in the inward transformation of the heart—a transformation that leads to life in communion with God and one another. Let us, therefore, zealously take up this work we are called to and strive to embody the love and mercy of Jesus Christ in our daily lives. Let us resist the fragmentation of our culture by building communities rooted in faith and love. Not love in the abstract, but true, sacrificial and restorative love.
Ο ΧΡΙΣΤΟΣ ΕΝ ΤΩ ΜΕΣΩ ΗΜΩΝ! ΚΑΙ ΗΝ ΚΑΙ ΕΣΤΙ ΚΑΙ ΕΣΤΑΙ
[1] St. Maximos the Confessor, The Philokalia, Vol. 2, 116, St. Nikodimos of the Holy Mountain and St. Makarious of Corinth, eds., trans. G.E.H. Palmer, Philip Sherrard, and Kallistos Ware (New York: Faber and Faber, 1981).
[2] Maximos the Confessor, The Philokalia, Vol. 2, 171.
[3] St. Bede. “Homily II.25, On Dedication of a Church,” Homilies on the Gospels, Bk. Two, 259.
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