I’ve never met anyone like him…

Saint Nectarios was born Anastasios Kephalas on October 1st, 1846, in Eastern Selyvria of Thrace (Now Turkey). He is one of the most beloved of the Greek saints, whose tireless service to his flock has had ripple effects across the globe.

The biography of his life, ‘Saint of our Century’, and the film ‘Man of God’ (links below) both tell of his struggle under those who slandered and abused him from the upper echelons of church leadership, and how he bore his burden with humility and grace. If anyone had reason to walk away from their faith because of confusion, hardship or church-hurt it was St. Nectarios. Instead, he pressed even deeper into his faith and, after a life of struggle and prayer, was given the honor of sainthood so that we would all emulate his holy life. All Christians, Orthodox or not, will benefit from this remarkable man whose love for God showed itself not only in love for the faithful and the poor, but even in love for his enemies.

… and I strive to be like him.

Saint Nectarios’ humility, grace and pure love for all mankind extended even those who misunderstood or misused him. In icons we see him peacefully blessing us, looking almost serene in his clerical vestments. It would be easy to forget that this was a man who was familiar with suffering, with poverty and with toil.

When I look at his icon, it’s as though he is holding a mirror up to me: what do I see? Do I see merely a great man of God who by some miracle was able to overcome his own nature and ascend to otherwise unattainable heights of holiness? Do I see someone who lived in another time and place, who I can’t relate to, and whose sanctification is beyond my reach or capacity? If that’s how I choose to look at his painted image then I will walk away with a small nod of gratitude to God for giving us such a fine example of Christian virtue, and I’ll move along with my day.

But if I gaze at his icon, look at his face and his vestments, I’m presented with the opportunity to see a mirror rather than painted wood. When I look at him, I am challenged to look right back at myself. Do I love and follow Christ as he did? Would I sacrifice my own pride, ego and sense of dignity if it meant serving my Master? Would I keep silent if horrible lies were spread about me?

Would I, like Saint Nectarios did, scrub toilets in private if it meant saving a sick janitor from being laid off? Would I hand-make shoes and clothing for those who could not afford new garments? Would I stay up at night and sacrifice the comfort of sleep if it meant writing encouraging and edifying words for others? Would I keep awake in prayer all night to pray for the suffering?

Probably not.

So when I see him staring back at me with kind eyes, I am pierced to the heart. It is as though he is looking at me and asking, “What do you see, my child, if this icon were a mirror? What do you see when you look at my life, humble and ordinary, yet in great communion with God? Do you see yourself?… and if not,… does that bring you to repentance or do you walk away unaffected?”

I want the kind of life Saint Nectarios had, where he surrendered everything to God and gained the sweetest love one can experience on earth. I want to be gentle and meek like he was, and like Christ was. I want to cover over a multitude of sins against me, against others, against the poor and against nature, through the grace given by God. I want to look at his icon without inner shame that reminds me how far from his godly example I am. I can almost hear St. Nectarios gently encourage me: “How I wish you could see what manner of transformation is available to you, to all who examine themselves and give themselves wholly to God!”

So the next time I look at an icon of Saint Nectarios, instead of walking away unaffected, instead of feeling badly that I don’t measure up, I will choose to thank God for this incredible Father in the faith who went before me in humility and love. I strive to be like him, just as he strove to be like Christ.