Sermon: Michaelmas Sermon

Preacher:

Bob Cooper

Date:

Sunday 28th September 2025

Venue:

Guildford Cathedral

Service:

Cathedral Eucharist

High above the Tiber River in Rome stands the ancient Castel Sant'Angelo, crowned by a magnificent bronze statue of St. Michael the Archangel. This fortress bears its holy name because of a miraculous vision. When there was a devastating plague ravaging Rome in the sixth century, Pope Gregory the Great led processions of prayer through the city's streets. As they approached what was then Hadrian's ancient mausoleum, the Archangel Michael appeared above it, his sword raised not in threat but in triumph, who then sheathed his blade as a sign that God's wrath had ended, and the plague would cease. In gratitude, the pope renamed the monument "Castel Sant'Angelo"—the Castle of the Holy Angel—the name it bears to this day.

For centuries since, pilgrims and visitors have climbed to that sacred height and stood in the presence of that towering figure, wings spread wide, sword raised in eternal vigilance. In that moment, suspended between earth and sky, you feel the proximity of heaven itself—the sense that Michael and all the angels are not distant mythological figures, but present guardians watching over our world, ready to respond to our prayers in times of crisis.

Today we celebrate the Feast of Michaelmas, and in a moment of profound significance, we install in our cathedral an icon of St. Michael the Archangel—but not just any icon. This sacred image has been written on an ammunition box rescued from the Ukrainian battlefield, transforming what once contained instruments of war into a vessel of divine grace. This transformation speaks powerfully to the very heart of our Gospel reading and the feast we celebrate.

When Jesus encountered Nathanael under the fig tree, He promised him something extraordinary: "You will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man." This promise echoes Jacob's dream at Bethel, where angels moved between earth and heaven on a great ladder. But Jesus declares that He Himself is that ladder—the bridge between heaven and earth, the meeting place where divine and human encounter one another.

Today, as we install this remarkable icon, we are witnessing a similar revelation. Icons are not mere paintings or decorations; they are windows into heaven, sacred portals through which we glimpse the eternal realm that intersects with our earthly existence. Like Nathanael, we are invited to see beyond the ordinary—to perceive the spiritual reality that surrounds and upholds us.

St. Michael the Archangel stands as the great warrior of heaven, the one who leads God's army against the forces of darkness. In the Book of Revelation, we read: "There was war in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon." This cosmic battle between good and evil is not some distant mythological tale—it is the fundamental struggle that defines our human experience, played out in every choice we make, every stand we take for justice and truth.

Our icon carries this truth in its very material. Born from the battlefields of Ukraine, written on an ammunition box that once held weapons of earthly warfare, it proclaims that the ultimate victory belongs not to human force, but to divine power. What once served destruction now serves worship. What once carried death now bears the image of the one who guards life.

Icons have been called "windows into heaven," and this metaphor is particularly apt for our Ukrainian icon of St. Michael. When we gaze upon this image, we are not merely looking at artistic representation—we are invited into a sacred encounter. The icon draws us into prayer, into relationship with the one it depicts.

The leaflet in front of the icon offers practical ways to pray with this icon, because icons are meant to be prayed with, not simply admired. They are tools of devotion, aids to contemplation, bridges between our earthly prayers and the heavenly realm where St. Michael stands before the throne of God.

When you approach this icon, you join a great company of believers throughout the ages who have sought St. Michael's protection. You participate in the same tradition that has sustained Christians through persecution, war, and suffering. You become part of the story that began with Michael's victory over the dragon and continues today in our own battles against evil.

The Feast of Michaelmas calls for a response from each of us. Like Nathanael, we are invited to move from scepticism to wonder, from doubt to faith. The installation of this icon today is not merely a ceremonial act—it is a call to action, an invitation to deeper commitment.

First, we are called to vigilance. Just as St. Michael stands eternally alert against the forces of evil, we too must remain watchful against the spiritual battles that rage around and within us. The ammunition box reminds us that these battles are real—they have earthly consequences, causing real suffering to real people. Our prayers are not escapist fantasies but acts of spiritual warfare.

Second, we are called to transformation. This icon demonstrates God's power to transform instruments of war into vessels of grace. What areas of our own lives need such transformation? What weapons of anger, resentment, or hatred do we carry that could become tools of peace? What ammunition of bitter words or harsh judgments could be transformed into prayers of intercession?

Third, we are called to protection of others. St. Michael is the patron saint of soldiers and the protector of Ukraine, but his care extends to all who face spiritual and physical danger. As we pray before this icon, we remember our brothers and sisters in Ukraine and in every place where good battles against evil. Our prayers become acts of solidarity with all who suffer.

Finally, we are called to courage. The presence of St. Michael in our cathedral reminds us that we do not fight our battles alone. The great archangel who cast Satan from heaven stands with us in our struggles against temptation, despair, and sin. We can face our fears because we fight under his banner.

Jesus promised Nathanael that he would see heaven opened and the angels ascending and descending. Today, through this icon, that promise is fulfilled in our midst. Heaven opens before us, not in some distant future, but here and now in this sacred space. The angels of God move between earth and heaven, carrying our prayers upward and bringing divine blessing downward.

This icon of St. Michael, born from conflict but dedicated to peace, stands as a testament to the Gospel truth that light overcomes darkness, that good triumphs over evil, that God's love is stronger than human hatred. It reminds us that every earthly battle is part of a greater cosmic struggle, and that we serve the God who has already won the victory.

As we install this icon today, we do more than add a beautiful object to our cathedral. We create a new focal point for prayer, a new window into heaven, a new reminder of God's protection and power. We join our voices with the company of heaven in proclaiming that Christ is Lord, that evil shall not prevail, and that St. Michael and all the angels stand ready to defend those who call upon the name of the Lord.

May this icon of St. Michael, transformed from an instrument of war into a vessel of prayer, remind us daily of our calling to be peacemakers, our need for divine protection, and our hope in the ultimate victory of good over evil.

Like Nathanael under the fig tree, may we see heaven opened before us. May we recognize in this icon not mere painted wood, but a window into the eternal realm where Christ reigns and Michael stands guard. And may our prayers, ascending like incense before this sacred image, unite us with all the saints and angels in the never-ending hymn of praise to our God and King.

Amen.