In the Gospel reading of the Presanctified Liturgy of Great Tuesday (Matt. 24:36–51, 25:1–46, 26:1–2), Christ reveals that the time of this present life is a time for preparation, watchfulness, and fruit-bearing, because His “coming” is not simply a future event, but a criterion that illumines every moment.
The Lord says that “concerning that day… no one knows” (24:36). Orthodox tradition sees here not an attempt to frighten, but a remedy against spiritual sluggishness and self-centered self-sufficiency. The fact that the hour is unknown is pedagogical: it keeps us in a stance of repentance, so that we do not postpone the change of heart to a “more convenient moment.” As in the days of Noah (24:37–39), so now too, life can flow along in habits that lull the mind to sleep; for this reason the Church, throughout Holy Week, insists on the command “keep watch” (24:42).
The parable of the faithful and prudent servant (24:45–51) shifts the emphasis from curiosity about when to responsibility for how we live. The “steward” is not simply a manager of things, but an image of the person to whom God has entrusted life, time, gifts, and relationships. The judgment described is not an arbitrary punishment; it is a revelation of truth: if a person lives as though the Lord were not coming, he ends up behaving as though he himself were lord, and then authority becomes harshness, pleasure becomes arrogance, and daily life becomes exploitation.
Next, the parable of the ten virgins (25:1–13) places inner watchfulness at the center. The virgins have “lamps,” that is, an outward form of waiting; yet the difference lies in the “oil.” The oil is not identified with a single virtue, but signifies the energy of grace preserved through a living relationship with Christ: prayer, humility, repentance, almsgiving, and participation in the sacramental life. Without this, faith becomes an external religious form, and the light is extinguished. The words “I do not know you” do not mean that God is ignorant of persons, but that communion with Him cannot be substituted at the last moment with borrowed spirituality; love is not copied—it is cultivated.
The passage reaches its climax in the image of the final judgment (25:31–46), where the criterion is strikingly simple: “I was hungry… I was thirsty… I was a stranger… naked… sick… in prison,” and “you did/did not do it.” The Orthodox Church reads this text as a revelation that theology is a mode of existence, not a theory. Christ identifies Himself mystically with the “least brother,” and thus love for one’s neighbor becomes the place of encounter with God. This is not a “moralism” that purchases salvation, but a disclosure of what it means to live in Christ: grace bears fruit, and the fruit bears witness to faith.
Finally, 26:1–2 directly links eschatological teaching with the Passion: “the Son of Man is delivered up to be crucified.” Judgment, in Orthodox consciousness, is inconceivable apart from the Cross. The Judge is the Crucified One; this means that the ultimate measure is the self-offering of love. On Great Tuesday, the Church calls the person to “keep vigil” not out of fear, but so as not to miss the visitation of the Bridegroom: to fill the lamp with the oil of repentance and mercy, and to stand with a heart ready to recognize Christ in the face of every suffering person.
+ Metropolitan Nektarios of Hong Kong and South East Asia
