Sunday Of The Paralytic

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If I speak with the languages of men and of angels, but don't have love, I have become sounding brass, or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but don't have love, I am nothing. If I dole out all my goods to feed the poor, and if I give my body to be burned, but don't have love, it profits me nothing. Love is patient and is kind; love doesn't envy. Love doesn't brag, is not proud, doesn't behave itself inappropriately, doesn't seek its own way, is not provoked, takes no account of evil; doesn't rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will be done away with.

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	Sunday Of The Paralytic

Kontakion, tone 3: By Thy divine presence, O Lord, raise my soul which is terribly paralyzed by all kinds of sins and misguided actions, as of old Thou didst raise the paralytic, that saved I may cry to Thee: O compassionate Christ, glory to Thy power.

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