Welcomed at the Eleventh Hour
Oops! (The Problem – Our Struggle with Unworthiness)
For some of us, there’s a voice that whispers to us when we step into this holy temple.
“You don’t belong here.” “You are unworthy.” “You have sinned too much, prayed too little, failed too often.”
Maybe you’ve heard that voice when you’ve thought about approaching the chalice. Or when you’ve considered coming to confession. Or when you’ve hesitated at the door of the church, unsure if you should even enter God’s house.
This voice tells us that there is an insurmountable barrier between us and God—a great chasm of sin and failure. It whispers that until we fix ourselves, until we clean up our lives, until we become holy enough, we cannot truly enter His presence.
If that sounds familiar, then you already understand the initial struggle of St. Mary of Egypt, whose memory we commemorate today as we prepare for the end of our Lenten journey.
Ugh! (Why This is a Problem—The Emotional Weight of Unworthiness)
St. Mary of Egypt lived a life immersed in darkness. For seventeen years, she was not merely a sinner—she was, in her own words, “the fire of public debauchery.” She pursued passions without restraint, delighting in her own corruption, taking pride in her shamelessness.
But God, in His infinite mercy, did not abandon her to this darkness.
One day, driven not by piety but by curiosity, she followed a crowd of pilgrims to Jerusalem for the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. She joined them, perhaps even mocking their devotion in her heart. She followed them to the church—and then something extraordinary happened.
As the faithful entered to venerate the Life-Giving Cross, Mary tried to enter with them. But she couldn’t.
It was as if an invisible force held her back. Again and again, she attempted to cross the threshold, and each time, she was repelled.
What was keeping her out?
It was not the walls of the church. It was not the people around her.
It was the sudden, crushing awareness of her own sinfulness—the weight of it, the depth of it, the terrible reality of what she had become.
In that moment of divine illumination, she saw clearly: “I am unworthy.” “I do not deserve to be here.” “My sins have shut me out from the presence of God.”
How many of us carry this same burden?
How many of us believe that our sins are so grievous, our hearts so corrupt, that we do not belong in the presence of the All-Holy One?
And so we hesitate. We hold back. We listen to the voice of the Enemy who tells us we are beyond redemption.
But glory to God—that is not where the story ends.
Aha! (The Gospel Breakthrough—The 11th Hour Invitation)
Standing outside the church, weeping bitter tears of repentance, St. Mary raised her eyes.
And what did she see?
Above her was an icon of the Most Holy Theotokos, the Mother of God.
In her brokenness, in her despair, she turned to the Theotokos and prayed with all her heart:
“O Lady, Mother of God, who gave birth to God the Word in human flesh! I know it brings you no honor when someone as impure and corrupted as I am looks upon your icon. I must truly disgust your virginal purity. But I have heard that God, who was born from you, became human to call sinners to repentance. Help me, for I have nowhere else to turn!”
And at that moment, everything changed.
She tried again to enter the church—and this time, the invisible barrier was gone. She fell before the Life-Giving Cross in repentance, receiving the divine grace that would transform her completely.
What had changed?
She was still the same person. Her past remained her past. She had not yet gone into the desert to spend forty-seven years in ascetic struggle.
But one thing was profoundly different: she had turned toward God’s mercy rather than away from it.
She realized that what had been keeping her out was not just her sin, but her attachment to sin—and her belief that her sin defined her identity.
And as soon as she turned to Christ in true repentance, He welcomed her in.
This is the same message we hear in St. John Chrysostom’s Paschal Homily, which we will soon proclaim:
“If any have tarried even until the eleventh hour, let them not despair; for the Lord, who is jealous of His honor, will accept the last even as the first. He gives rest to him who comes at the eleventh hour, even as to him who has worked from the first hour.”
There is no one too late for God’s mercy. There is no sin so great that it can keep us from Him—except the sin that convinces us not to turn to Him.
Whee! (Experiencing the Gospel – Our Invitation to Receive Mercy)
My beloved brothers and sisters in Christ, the doors of repentance are still open to us.
Holy Week approaches. Pascha draws near. Soon the Risen Christ will stand before us, calling to each of us:
“Come, receive the Light from the Light that is never overtaken by night!”
And yet, even now, some of us hesitate.
Some of us still hear that accusing voice: “Not yet.” “Not me.” “I am not ready.” “I am not worthy.”
But Christ is not waiting for you to be worthy by your own efforts. He is waiting for you to turn to Him so that He may make you worthy by His grace.
In just two weeks, we will once again hear the triumphant words of St. John Chrysostom:
“Let no one fear death, for the Savior’s death has set us free!” “Let no one mourn their transgressions, for forgiveness has dawned from the tomb!” “Let no one fear death, for the death of our Savior has destroyed death!”
You belong in this church. You belong before the holy icons. You belong in the embrace of God’s mercy.
Not because you have earned it—but because God loves you with an everlasting love.
Yeah! (Implications—Living in the Light of Mercy)
What then does this mean for us today?
It means that now is the acceptable time, now is the day of salvation.
If you have been avoiding the Mystery of Confession because you feel too ashamed—come.
If you have stayed away from the Divine Liturgy because you feel unworthy—come.
If the weight of your sins has kept you from prayer—come back to prayer.
Christ is calling each of us, even at this eleventh hour of Great Lent.
Like St. Mary of Egypt, we do not need to be perfect to step through these doors. We need only to turn away from sin and toward the mercy of God—and He will welcome us in.
On this Fifth Sunday of Great Lent, as we remember St. Mary of Egypt, let us take courage from her example. From being a public sinner, she became a great saint. From being enslaved to passion, she became truly free in Christ.
The same transformation is offered to each of us.
This is the Gospel. This is our hope. This is our salvation.
Amen.