Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Joseph Brown, n/OHC
BCP - Lent 1 C - 25 February 2007
Deuteronomy 26:(1-4)5-11
Romans 10:(5-8a)8b-13
Luke 4:1-13
I was 3 or 4 years old, and sitting on my grandmother’s ample warm lap. She had the softest skin imaginable and she always smelled faintly of lilacs. Now she also “dipped snuff” and spit into a Dixie cup, so banish any kind of sweet little Victorian images right away.
As I sat there, probably drinking sweet tea and having a homemade sugar cookie, Granny was telling me about all the stories in the big illustrated family bible. But what really got my attention was the pictures! As more pages were turned and as I was being lulled into a drowsy little stupor from too much sugar and Granny’s soft voice, I saw IT. Now I didn’t know I saw IT, and the realization of how this picture would mark my conscience was almost 40 more years down the road, but when that page turned I know I opened my eyes wide and took in a deep breath.
There was a picture of Jesus, in a white robe, with a blue sash standing on a cliff, but what got me was what Jesus was looking up at: A being whose skin was red. All around him was a swirling pattern of red cloth and big black wings. He had little horns, cloven feet, black fingernails and he was flying! Just like Superman, but with the much cooler costume of Batman. He had super-powers! He looked so much more powerful and stronger than the man on the cliff. I don’t remember a single picture after that. Not the good shepherd, not the crucifixion, not the standard rising from the tomb. All I remember are wings, flying, swirling and power, and judging from my grandmother’s reaction to my excitement, something totally forbidden. Jesus didn’t have a chance. I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. And it wasn’t human. At that age I didn’t know anything about evil, or what Satan really was. I just knew I wanted to fly, to have powers, and that he didn’t look like he could be hurt. He looked like a god.
That is quite a set-up and to linger so long on something so personal is quite un-Episcopalian, but I wanted to give some context.
I know that it is the season of Lent, but contrary to the liturgical calendar, on Friday at our novitiate bible study I had an epiphany. It is embarrassing to admit, but I realized that I completely missed a basic tenet of our religion. Jesus was human. I have read a lot of Christology, theology, ecclesiology and catechisms. My brothers here know I wrestle with some pretty obscure (and really useless) details. I realized that I really do not know what it meant when it said Jesus was divine and human. Divine, yes. Human? Well sure, in an abstract kind of way.
The devil’s question to Jesus is “If you are the Son of God…” But Jesus heard God’s question to him “Do you dare to be human?” Do you dare to accept all the limitations that humans have: hunger, weakness and pain? Do you dare to accept the glory that is human: made in the image and likeness of God? Do you dare to be divine and human?
It is humbling to admit that until this last Friday, I didn’t know what that meant. I still don’t know, and every one of my little preconceptions are rocked to the foundations. Do I dare to be human? Do I dare allow myself to finally enter the human race after trying to be a dark superhero all my life and share in its fragility and absurdity and its grandeur? It seems the height of arrogance to even ask that question, as if somehow I have been a separate species. I know that am not, but most of the time I act as if I was.
I act as if I had superpowers. I act as if I can read minds and hearts. I act as if sharp comments and little hurts bounce off like bullets on Superman’s chest of steel. I am trying to be the all-powerful, super-doer. The one that is relied on, and doesn’t have to rely on anyone else. I act as if anything short of superman, super novice, super monk is not enough, and in my arrogance, I think that I can be those things in the first place. Not needing others, not needing love. Not human.
And that takes me off the hook. By denying Christ humanity I place him in a different category. By doing that, then I don’t have to do what he did. He was the Divine Human, and if I deny his humanity then he is not really available. The gulf between myself and God has not been bridged. I am left horribly alone, and powerless to overcome the temptation.
The heart of the Christian mystery is to be really human, and all that implies. I am able to be really human because Jesus Christ was really human. He was vulnerable to those around him. He got hungry, he got angry, he got frustrated. His disciples infuriated him. Many of the leaders of his own religion were hard of heart and blind, even while miracles of healing were being worked around them, and no matter what he did, their hearts got harder. He was and is God, but his full divinity is somehow tied into, and inseparable from, his humanity. So is mine. I don’t know how, but it is.
For just a moment, I have seen through a door to a mystery. I have heard a temptation for what it is. A lie. The power of the red guy with the big bat wings is a lie. Satan tells me I can be like a god, Jesus calls me to be more than that- a human who shares in the life of the God. Hildegaard of Bingen said “The worst thing the devil can say to you is “Human! you do not know what you are!” After Christ’s life, death, resurrection and ascension we are now full participants in the divine. As humans. And I shall spend the rest of eternity grasping this fact. God is not only here with us, God is in us, as we are in the body of Christ. As Christ’s body, we must do what Christ does. And if that is true, then this life is not a game. This monastery, our powerful liturgies, our ministry means nothing if does not mean that we are at war with evil, as Christ was at war with evil. Not evil in the abstract, but real evil: Hatred, violence, oppression, slavery, murder and death. The war is between good and evil, Satan and God, in my soul and in the world. The temptation set before us every day is “Who’s side are you on? Under who’s banner will you fight?” And to win this war God called God’s very best to fight- Us. Humans. To God, in a mystery beyond all my comprehension, there could be no other way.
I pray this Lent, that God may give me a glimpse into what this means. I pray this Lent I might begin to see that in being truly human we are never closer to being truly divine in Christ. I pray this Lent, I might put away the wings and the cape, give up the super powers, and enter into the mystery of a God who is so powerful, that he became fully human.
*****
(c) 2007 - Order of the Holy Cross
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
BCP - Epiphany Last C - 18 Feb 2007
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Brother Robert James Magliula, n/OHC
BCP – Epiphany Last C - Sunday 18 Februay 2007
Exodus 34:29-35
1 Corinthians 12:27-13:13
Luke 9:28-36
Always, on this last Sunday after the Epiphany, no matter which of the three-year lectionary cycles we’re in, the gospel is one of the accounts of our Lord’s Transfiguration. As the season of Epiphany closes, the Church in her wisdom summons us to go to that secluded place, to follow Jesus, Peter, James, and John, and to experience again as for the first time that mysterious and dazzling event. The only thing we are asked to bring with us is our imagination and an openness to wonder. In this season of epiphanies this is the ultimate showing of who Jesus is.
Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Mary, the carpenter, the charismatic rabbi/healer, is encompassed in Light. The appearance of his face, like that of Moses before him, is altered. His clothes radiate the brilliance of a thousand suns. Jesus is shown as someone beyond human classification. He is not just the man from Nazareth; he is the revealed Word of God. He is the Absolute One for whom there is no equal---not even Moses or Elijah. He is the Holy One as well as the Human One. Revelation, in the economy of God, always has a purpose. Just as the voice spoke to Jesus at his baptism, so now it addresses the three disciples and all of us who come after them. In effect, the voice says that Jesus is the one in whom we can place our trust. He is God’s Chosen, the One who is to be listened to.
During our retreat last week I tried to live in and with that vision of glory in order to become clearer about the things that get in the way of my listening. Listening demands that we do some work on ourselves first. In sitting with the icon of the Transfiguration, I found that my eyes consistently wandered from the figure of Jesus to those of the disciples, who were lying in various contorted and pained positions all over that mountainside. My reactions to them ranged from sympathy and understanding to harsh judgement.
Living in a community, any community, monastic, family, school, parish, can certainly aid us in seeing and hearing the truth. But I find that it can equally distract us from that truth. We can become sidetracked by looking at, reacting to, each other, particularly in our least flattering states. We can become so engrossed, consciously or unconsciously, in our own inner response, to the other, to our ambition, our self-esteem, that our point of reference ceases to be Christ, or even the other, but only ourselves. We can see in those around us the failing, but not the person, and we certainly see no hint of the glory.
I think that it's no coincidence that every year we are given that vision of glory before entering the wilderness of Lent. Looking down the barrel of Calvary, the disciples needed to be focused. Just prior to going up the mountain, they were devastated by the prediction of Christ’s suffering and death. This was not part of their plan. Like we so often are, they were trapped in their own self centeredness. This vision shed light on that truth and gave them a larger vision and strength. It enabled them to face a future that was beyond their control or plan. None of us are strangers to the human condition. The longer we live, the more we know how little of life we can control. We all face into large and small losses. We know how imperfectly our humanity is lived out with each other---how frail our lives and relationships can be.
Benedict knew that it was possible to engage in the most extreme ascetical practices and at the same time not give up the tyranny of self absorption, self-deception, and self-centeredness. "To hear" and "to obey" are taken from the same root in Latin. The most consistent ascetical practice running through the Rule is obedience. When Benedict calls on his disciples to listen, it isn't only about hearing the word of God with our ears. It's not only message, but event and encounter. In a wider sense, it's about recognizing signs, about paying attention. Until we can listen and hear ourselves, we can not listen to God or each other.
Paying attention to our bodies, our emotions, the rhythms, demands, and needs, must be taken seriously. The ache in my back or head, my anger or boredom, need not necessarily be dismissed with stoic fortitude. It may be telling me about tension and strain, a signal that it's time to stop or start something. We also need to be attentive to our reaction to what we hear. Is it the last thing in the world that I want to hear? Is it disagreeable or threatening? Does it reassure me or frighten me? When we begin to pick and choose what we will hear, we are in fact turning a deaf ear to the many unexpected and perhaps unacceptable ways in which the Word of God is trying to reach us.
Learning to deal with my own limitations makes me better able to deal with those of others. Knowing my own limitations, I am more inclined---at my best times---not to harshly judge other people for theirs. It also helps me to trust someone elses' strengths which help me with my weakness.
Paul gives us evidence of God’s presence in the community of disciples as manifested through the gifts of the Spirit. In that great hymn to, for, and about love, we are reminded that being loveable is not what determines community. Selfless concern for the other is the result of being able to hear and be obedient to God’s love. Paul reminds us that none of us possess all gifts but all have access to the most excellent and enduring one, which is love. He goes on to list the qualities of love, which are what build up community: patience, kindness, gentleness, endurance, truth, and rejoicing in the best for others. Love is the closest we can come to being co-creators with God, of seeing, knowing and showing the glory of God. All of our talents and gifts have their function and use in this world, but in the end, only love remains.
This vision of glory let those first disciples know that in that moment, they lived in God and God lived in them---no matter where or in what condition they found themselves on that mountainside. It is here and now that God’s light shines in Christ and through him in us. Life itself is one never-ending series of epiphanies. Each encounter contains the invitation to move on to greater growth, deeper commitment. These God-moments happen with more frequency than we may think. That's why being attentive is essential if we mean to find ourselves, each other, and the God we seek. Rather than making us loose touch with reality, these God-moments give us the strength and the vision to see and live the greatest and truest reality of all.
+Amen.
Brother Robert James Magliula, n/OHC
BCP – Epiphany Last C - Sunday 18 Februay 2007
Exodus 34:29-35
1 Corinthians 12:27-13:13
Luke 9:28-36
Always, on this last Sunday after the Epiphany, no matter which of the three-year lectionary cycles we’re in, the gospel is one of the accounts of our Lord’s Transfiguration. As the season of Epiphany closes, the Church in her wisdom summons us to go to that secluded place, to follow Jesus, Peter, James, and John, and to experience again as for the first time that mysterious and dazzling event. The only thing we are asked to bring with us is our imagination and an openness to wonder. In this season of epiphanies this is the ultimate showing of who Jesus is.
Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Mary, the carpenter, the charismatic rabbi/healer, is encompassed in Light. The appearance of his face, like that of Moses before him, is altered. His clothes radiate the brilliance of a thousand suns. Jesus is shown as someone beyond human classification. He is not just the man from Nazareth; he is the revealed Word of God. He is the Absolute One for whom there is no equal---not even Moses or Elijah. He is the Holy One as well as the Human One. Revelation, in the economy of God, always has a purpose. Just as the voice spoke to Jesus at his baptism, so now it addresses the three disciples and all of us who come after them. In effect, the voice says that Jesus is the one in whom we can place our trust. He is God’s Chosen, the One who is to be listened to.
During our retreat last week I tried to live in and with that vision of glory in order to become clearer about the things that get in the way of my listening. Listening demands that we do some work on ourselves first. In sitting with the icon of the Transfiguration, I found that my eyes consistently wandered from the figure of Jesus to those of the disciples, who were lying in various contorted and pained positions all over that mountainside. My reactions to them ranged from sympathy and understanding to harsh judgement.
Living in a community, any community, monastic, family, school, parish, can certainly aid us in seeing and hearing the truth. But I find that it can equally distract us from that truth. We can become sidetracked by looking at, reacting to, each other, particularly in our least flattering states. We can become so engrossed, consciously or unconsciously, in our own inner response, to the other, to our ambition, our self-esteem, that our point of reference ceases to be Christ, or even the other, but only ourselves. We can see in those around us the failing, but not the person, and we certainly see no hint of the glory.
I think that it's no coincidence that every year we are given that vision of glory before entering the wilderness of Lent. Looking down the barrel of Calvary, the disciples needed to be focused. Just prior to going up the mountain, they were devastated by the prediction of Christ’s suffering and death. This was not part of their plan. Like we so often are, they were trapped in their own self centeredness. This vision shed light on that truth and gave them a larger vision and strength. It enabled them to face a future that was beyond their control or plan. None of us are strangers to the human condition. The longer we live, the more we know how little of life we can control. We all face into large and small losses. We know how imperfectly our humanity is lived out with each other---how frail our lives and relationships can be.
Benedict knew that it was possible to engage in the most extreme ascetical practices and at the same time not give up the tyranny of self absorption, self-deception, and self-centeredness. "To hear" and "to obey" are taken from the same root in Latin. The most consistent ascetical practice running through the Rule is obedience. When Benedict calls on his disciples to listen, it isn't only about hearing the word of God with our ears. It's not only message, but event and encounter. In a wider sense, it's about recognizing signs, about paying attention. Until we can listen and hear ourselves, we can not listen to God or each other.
Paying attention to our bodies, our emotions, the rhythms, demands, and needs, must be taken seriously. The ache in my back or head, my anger or boredom, need not necessarily be dismissed with stoic fortitude. It may be telling me about tension and strain, a signal that it's time to stop or start something. We also need to be attentive to our reaction to what we hear. Is it the last thing in the world that I want to hear? Is it disagreeable or threatening? Does it reassure me or frighten me? When we begin to pick and choose what we will hear, we are in fact turning a deaf ear to the many unexpected and perhaps unacceptable ways in which the Word of God is trying to reach us.
Learning to deal with my own limitations makes me better able to deal with those of others. Knowing my own limitations, I am more inclined---at my best times---not to harshly judge other people for theirs. It also helps me to trust someone elses' strengths which help me with my weakness.
Paul gives us evidence of God’s presence in the community of disciples as manifested through the gifts of the Spirit. In that great hymn to, for, and about love, we are reminded that being loveable is not what determines community. Selfless concern for the other is the result of being able to hear and be obedient to God’s love. Paul reminds us that none of us possess all gifts but all have access to the most excellent and enduring one, which is love. He goes on to list the qualities of love, which are what build up community: patience, kindness, gentleness, endurance, truth, and rejoicing in the best for others. Love is the closest we can come to being co-creators with God, of seeing, knowing and showing the glory of God. All of our talents and gifts have their function and use in this world, but in the end, only love remains.
This vision of glory let those first disciples know that in that moment, they lived in God and God lived in them---no matter where or in what condition they found themselves on that mountainside. It is here and now that God’s light shines in Christ and through him in us. Life itself is one never-ending series of epiphanies. Each encounter contains the invitation to move on to greater growth, deeper commitment. These God-moments happen with more frequency than we may think. That's why being attentive is essential if we mean to find ourselves, each other, and the God we seek. Rather than making us loose touch with reality, these God-moments give us the strength and the vision to see and live the greatest and truest reality of all.
+Amen.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
BCP - Epiphany 6C - 11 Feb 2007
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
The Rev. Anthony Cayless
BCP – Epiphany 6 C - Sunday 11 Februay 2007
Jeremiah 17:5-10
1 Corinthians 15:12-20
Luke 6:17-26
Thursday two weeks ago on the feast of the Conversion of St. Paul I celebrated the Eucharist in this Monastery Church. Some of you were here and will recall that before the Offertory Hymn Fr. David Bryan our Superior (Br. David Bryan Hoopes, OHC) called Suzette (Mrs. Suzette Cayless) and Br. Joseph (Br. Joseph Brown, OHC) up to the Altar and an Icon of St. Paul written by Joseph was unveiled and blessed. It had been commissioned by Suzette as a gift to me marking the completion of fifty years as a Priest in the Church. So that you all might see this wonderful gift I have set it up today on the table at the South end of the Pilgrim Hall.
For me it was a very emotional moment. After the Peace I censed the Altar and pretended that smoke had got into my eyes. I had some difficulty in seeing the Canon of the Mass. Saying to myself, “Remember you are British. Stiff upper lip and all that” - and fifty years of celebrating kept me in good stead. My composure was restored. I remembered the words and got through to the end.
The icon is of St. Paul holding a scroll with a Greek text. Later It turned out to be the text which more than any other scripture a sentence from which I have quoted to many, many times and not least quoted to myself. The full text reads:
"but he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.' So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me."
"My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness."
And so to the Gospel of today. Both Luke and Matthew record beatitudes. Beatitudes define the character of a citizen of God’s Kingdom. The late Bishop of Long Island, Bishop Sherman, used to say the Beatitudes are where we should strive to BE AT!
Matthew, places his nine beatitudes early in Jesus' Ministry before naming the Twelve Apostles. Luke puts his four immediately after Jesus chooses the Twelve.
When Luke compiled his Gospel (thanks to the ministry of Paul) the Church had come to see that Jesus’ message was not for Jew’s only but for everybody everywhere. Writing to the Galatians Paul had pointed out: "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus." We do not see from this distance how radical this is. The Church struggled then as it has struggled through two millennia and continues to struggle now to interpret just what God is asking the Church to do and to be in the situation in which it finds itself.
On this occasion Jesus teaches the great multitude, some of whom were gentiles, Syro-Phoenicians from Tyre and Sidon. While this message parallels that of the Sermon on the Mount, it is put in a different context. This is Jesus and a mixed group face to face.
"He came down with them (that is the Twelve whom Jesus had just appointed) and stood on a level place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon. They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases. . ." Luke records four beatitudes. All four can be paralleled with four of Matthew's nine. Matthew’s Beatitudes introduce the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus Manifesto of God’s Kingdom, addressed to the his disciples, in the earshot of the crowds. Luke’s Beatitudes are for everyone. "They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases . . . And all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed all of them."
"Turning to his disciples he said: Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven!"
The word blessed translates Maka,rioi meaning blessed ones, fortunate ones, happy ones. The poor, the hungry, those who weep, and those who are persecuted are blessed by God. They, says Jesus, are the blessed ones, the fortunate ones, the happy ones.
These four beatitudes in St Luke are contrasted with four woes. ouvai. A cry of great distress. The Greek word denotes horror, disaster, calamity. It could be translate how horrible it will be!
How horrible it will be for you who are rich, for you have received your consolation; for you who are full now, for you will be hungry. for you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep. for you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.
That turns our values, our standards, our righteousness upside down and inside out.
Thus says the LORD: Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals and make mere flesh their strength, whose hearts turn away from the LORD. They shall be like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see when relief comes. They shall live in the parched places of the wilderness, in an uninhabited salt land.
It all turns on where we put our trust. The Kingdom of God to which we travel is eternal, firm, sure, fixed. The kingdoms of this world, the societies in which we live are temporal, infirm, insecure, sick. Read the newspapers, watch the news, study history, look at this present world. In the Bible the existing world order is shown as hostile to God's Kingdom. Salvation, healing, wholeness, come from God. The woes are God’s woes, the blessings God’s blessings: "Blessed are those who trust in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD. They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit."
The Psalmist contrasts the way of the wicked with those who delight in the Law of the Lord. "Happy are they who have not walked in the counsel of the wicked, nor lingered in the way of sinners, nor sat in the seats of the scornful! Their delight is in the law of the LORD, and they meditate on his law day and night. They are like trees planted by streams of water, bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not wither; everything they do shall prosper. It is not so with the wicked; they are like chaff which the wind blows away. Therefore the wicked shall not stand upright when judgment comes, nor the sinner in the council of the righteous. For the LORD knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked is doomed."
Judgement belongs to God, not to us. From the Prophet Jeremiah in our Old Testament reading: "I the LORD test the mind and search the heart, to give to all according to their ways, according to the fruit of their doings." Jeremiah is surely right when he says: "The heart is devious above all else; it is perverse. Who can understand it?"
There is no doubt that we can fool ourselves. Our values, our standards, our righteous and sometimes indignantly righteous attitudes. I wonder what Jesus makes of them. The devil gets in and twists and warps our relationships sometimes over little things, often through misunderstandings.
We return to the beginning my icon and the scripture which Paul exhibits. . . "but he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.' So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. The grace of God, the love of God is always sufficient. My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness." So let us pray:
O God the strength of all those who put their trust in you: Mercifully accept our prayers; and because in our weakness we can do nothing good without you, give us the help of your grace, that in keeping your commandments we may please you both in will and deed; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God for ever and ever. Amen
The Rev. Anthony Cayless
BCP – Epiphany 6 C - Sunday 11 Februay 2007
Jeremiah 17:5-10
1 Corinthians 15:12-20
Luke 6:17-26
Thursday two weeks ago on the feast of the Conversion of St. Paul I celebrated the Eucharist in this Monastery Church. Some of you were here and will recall that before the Offertory Hymn Fr. David Bryan our Superior (Br. David Bryan Hoopes, OHC) called Suzette (Mrs. Suzette Cayless) and Br. Joseph (Br. Joseph Brown, OHC) up to the Altar and an Icon of St. Paul written by Joseph was unveiled and blessed. It had been commissioned by Suzette as a gift to me marking the completion of fifty years as a Priest in the Church. So that you all might see this wonderful gift I have set it up today on the table at the South end of the Pilgrim Hall.
For me it was a very emotional moment. After the Peace I censed the Altar and pretended that smoke had got into my eyes. I had some difficulty in seeing the Canon of the Mass. Saying to myself, “Remember you are British. Stiff upper lip and all that” - and fifty years of celebrating kept me in good stead. My composure was restored. I remembered the words and got through to the end.
The icon is of St. Paul holding a scroll with a Greek text. Later It turned out to be the text which more than any other scripture a sentence from which I have quoted to many, many times and not least quoted to myself. The full text reads:
"but he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.' So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me."
"My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness."
And so to the Gospel of today. Both Luke and Matthew record beatitudes. Beatitudes define the character of a citizen of God’s Kingdom. The late Bishop of Long Island, Bishop Sherman, used to say the Beatitudes are where we should strive to BE AT!
Matthew, places his nine beatitudes early in Jesus' Ministry before naming the Twelve Apostles. Luke puts his four immediately after Jesus chooses the Twelve.
When Luke compiled his Gospel (thanks to the ministry of Paul) the Church had come to see that Jesus’ message was not for Jew’s only but for everybody everywhere. Writing to the Galatians Paul had pointed out: "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus." We do not see from this distance how radical this is. The Church struggled then as it has struggled through two millennia and continues to struggle now to interpret just what God is asking the Church to do and to be in the situation in which it finds itself.
On this occasion Jesus teaches the great multitude, some of whom were gentiles, Syro-Phoenicians from Tyre and Sidon. While this message parallels that of the Sermon on the Mount, it is put in a different context. This is Jesus and a mixed group face to face.
"He came down with them (that is the Twelve whom Jesus had just appointed) and stood on a level place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon. They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases. . ." Luke records four beatitudes. All four can be paralleled with four of Matthew's nine. Matthew’s Beatitudes introduce the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus Manifesto of God’s Kingdom, addressed to the his disciples, in the earshot of the crowds. Luke’s Beatitudes are for everyone. "They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases . . . And all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed all of them."
"Turning to his disciples he said: Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven!"
The word blessed translates Maka,rioi meaning blessed ones, fortunate ones, happy ones. The poor, the hungry, those who weep, and those who are persecuted are blessed by God. They, says Jesus, are the blessed ones, the fortunate ones, the happy ones.
These four beatitudes in St Luke are contrasted with four woes. ouvai. A cry of great distress. The Greek word denotes horror, disaster, calamity. It could be translate how horrible it will be!
How horrible it will be for you who are rich, for you have received your consolation; for you who are full now, for you will be hungry. for you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep. for you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.
That turns our values, our standards, our righteousness upside down and inside out.
Thus says the LORD: Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals and make mere flesh their strength, whose hearts turn away from the LORD. They shall be like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see when relief comes. They shall live in the parched places of the wilderness, in an uninhabited salt land.
It all turns on where we put our trust. The Kingdom of God to which we travel is eternal, firm, sure, fixed. The kingdoms of this world, the societies in which we live are temporal, infirm, insecure, sick. Read the newspapers, watch the news, study history, look at this present world. In the Bible the existing world order is shown as hostile to God's Kingdom. Salvation, healing, wholeness, come from God. The woes are God’s woes, the blessings God’s blessings: "Blessed are those who trust in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD. They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit."
The Psalmist contrasts the way of the wicked with those who delight in the Law of the Lord. "Happy are they who have not walked in the counsel of the wicked, nor lingered in the way of sinners, nor sat in the seats of the scornful! Their delight is in the law of the LORD, and they meditate on his law day and night. They are like trees planted by streams of water, bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not wither; everything they do shall prosper. It is not so with the wicked; they are like chaff which the wind blows away. Therefore the wicked shall not stand upright when judgment comes, nor the sinner in the council of the righteous. For the LORD knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked is doomed."
Judgement belongs to God, not to us. From the Prophet Jeremiah in our Old Testament reading: "I the LORD test the mind and search the heart, to give to all according to their ways, according to the fruit of their doings." Jeremiah is surely right when he says: "The heart is devious above all else; it is perverse. Who can understand it?"
There is no doubt that we can fool ourselves. Our values, our standards, our righteous and sometimes indignantly righteous attitudes. I wonder what Jesus makes of them. The devil gets in and twists and warps our relationships sometimes over little things, often through misunderstandings.
We return to the beginning my icon and the scripture which Paul exhibits. . . "but he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.' So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. The grace of God, the love of God is always sufficient. My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness." So let us pray:
O God the strength of all those who put their trust in you: Mercifully accept our prayers; and because in our weakness we can do nothing good without you, give us the help of your grace, that in keeping your commandments we may please you both in will and deed; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God for ever and ever. Amen
Sunday, February 4, 2007
BCP - Epiphany 5 C - 04 Feb 2007
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
The Rev. Elizabeth R. Broyles
BCP – Epiphany 5 C - Sunday 04 Februay 2007
Judges 6:11-24a
1 Corinthians 15:1-11
Luke 5:1-11
When I was in undergraduate school, I enjoyed a group of close friends that spent innumerable hours together. We sat in the student center talking about all manner of things. We were very serious about these conversations. We were sharpening our intellects–and our tongues.
Then there were the times we delighted in being silly.
One winter night we were at a party at the home of one of the women’s boyfriends. Three or four of us took up residence in the room for the coats, sitting on the floor. Each time someone would come in, several of us would say [whining]
"Oh no, not another coat!
Oh no, another scarf too!
Oh no, she has mittens!"
Imagine the distress of the host!
I will spare you the variations on whining that we tortured party guests with that night.
I hear a bit of whining in the Gospel today when Jesus tells Simon to put out into the deep water and let down the nets for a catch.
"Master, We’ve worked all night long, but have caught nothing."
All night casting nets; all night nothing.
And Jesus wants him to go back out there.
Simon’s protest was justified.
Why bother if there is not a fish in sight?
Sometimes we, too, work all night long without a catch.
When do you have the experience of your net coming up empty? When have you-or, do you–work very hard at something, repeatedly, with the sense that it makes no difference? That you have failed? That you have been failed by the circumstances, by other people, by God?
Perhaps with a son or daughter who is troubled–or in trouble. Nothing you try yields results.
Empty.
Perhaps at work there is an unreasonable set of expectations you cannot fill. Or an employee that you cannot supervise well.
Empty.
Perhaps you have been chipping away at a personal character flaw with no difference in sight.
Empty.
Perhaps you hear the Spirit calling you to act, to respond, to change, to love more or differently in your Church. To move into mission or confront some problems. Fear or anger block the way.
Empty.
Sometimes that night seems very long and the net terribly empty.
Why put the nets down again, indeed?
Why take the boat back into the deep waters of disappointment, worry and sense of failure?
I hear an echo of an end-of the line response my mother made:
after all the arguments I could muster:
"Because I said so."
Only it isn’t Jesus using this; Simon comes back with a variation on that:
"IF YOU SAY SO."
When it seems useless, sometimes the best reason to continue along the difficult way is IF YOU SAY SO.
I’ve been at this for a dog’s age,
Yet if you say so, Jesus, I will do it anyway.
Maybe not happily. We do not necessarily have to like it.
With God, whining is allowed.
God has a lot higher tolerance for it than we do.
Let’s follow Simon’s example, though: He moves right through whining, right through resistance, to willingness to take action that matters.
Like Simon we can allow ourselves to find out what Jesus has in store
Abundance beyond the imagination.
Acceptance beyond our hopes.
And belief in us that is beyond our–well, beyond our belief.
The Rev. Elizabeth R. Broyles
BCP – Epiphany 5 C - Sunday 04 Februay 2007
Judges 6:11-24a
1 Corinthians 15:1-11
Luke 5:1-11
When I was in undergraduate school, I enjoyed a group of close friends that spent innumerable hours together. We sat in the student center talking about all manner of things. We were very serious about these conversations. We were sharpening our intellects–and our tongues.
Then there were the times we delighted in being silly.
One winter night we were at a party at the home of one of the women’s boyfriends. Three or four of us took up residence in the room for the coats, sitting on the floor. Each time someone would come in, several of us would say [whining]
"Oh no, not another coat!
Oh no, another scarf too!
Oh no, she has mittens!"
Imagine the distress of the host!
I will spare you the variations on whining that we tortured party guests with that night.
I hear a bit of whining in the Gospel today when Jesus tells Simon to put out into the deep water and let down the nets for a catch.
"Master, We’ve worked all night long, but have caught nothing."
All night casting nets; all night nothing.
And Jesus wants him to go back out there.
Simon’s protest was justified.
Why bother if there is not a fish in sight?
Sometimes we, too, work all night long without a catch.
When do you have the experience of your net coming up empty? When have you-or, do you–work very hard at something, repeatedly, with the sense that it makes no difference? That you have failed? That you have been failed by the circumstances, by other people, by God?
Perhaps with a son or daughter who is troubled–or in trouble. Nothing you try yields results.
Empty.
Perhaps at work there is an unreasonable set of expectations you cannot fill. Or an employee that you cannot supervise well.
Empty.
Perhaps you have been chipping away at a personal character flaw with no difference in sight.
Empty.
Perhaps you hear the Spirit calling you to act, to respond, to change, to love more or differently in your Church. To move into mission or confront some problems. Fear or anger block the way.
Empty.
Sometimes that night seems very long and the net terribly empty.
Why put the nets down again, indeed?
Why take the boat back into the deep waters of disappointment, worry and sense of failure?
I hear an echo of an end-of the line response my mother made:
after all the arguments I could muster:
"Because I said so."
Only it isn’t Jesus using this; Simon comes back with a variation on that:
"IF YOU SAY SO."
When it seems useless, sometimes the best reason to continue along the difficult way is IF YOU SAY SO.
I’ve been at this for a dog’s age,
Yet if you say so, Jesus, I will do it anyway.
Maybe not happily. We do not necessarily have to like it.
With God, whining is allowed.
God has a lot higher tolerance for it than we do.
Let’s follow Simon’s example, though: He moves right through whining, right through resistance, to willingness to take action that matters.
Like Simon we can allow ourselves to find out what Jesus has in store
Abundance beyond the imagination.
Acceptance beyond our hopes.
And belief in us that is beyond our–well, beyond our belief.
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