Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. David Bryan Hoopes OHC
RCL - Proper 3 A - Sunday 25 May 2008
Isaiah 44:8-16
I Corinthians 4:1-5
Matthew 6:24-34
“But strive first for the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Matthew 6:33
“In a time of favor I have answered you, on a day of salvation I have helped you;
I have kept you and given you as a covenant to the people.” Isaiah 49:8
“Think of us in this way, as servants of Christ and stewards of God’s mysteries.” I Cor. 6:1
During the first week of May I had the privilege of participating in an ecumenical gathering of leaders of religious communities: the conference was held in the Orthodox Monastery of the Holy Transfiguration of our Saviour Jesus Christ in Nafpatkos, Greece. The monastery buildings were most beautiful and complemented the stunning site on top of a mountain overlooking the Bay of Patra and the port of Lepanto.
The monastery was founded in 1972 by Fr. Spyridon Logothetis (now abbot). Fr. Spyridon was a parish priest in Nafpatkos. He ministered to a congregation made up of people of modest means as well as many very poor. There was a need for an orphanage in the town and the priest and his people built one and staffed it. But Fr. Spyridon also felt called to build a monastery. Five young men also felt the call and the 6 of them set out to build a monastery. Skeptics reminded the men that they had no money, and no land. Fr. Spyridon’s response was (and is) “God has money.”
The city of Nafpatkos gave the land. They were given the choice of two sites. At first the brothers chose the alternative site, but Fr. Spyridon did not feel easy about it. He recounted that as the men were about to make the decision it felt as if he were being pushed very hard in his back. He in fact, fell down a hill, broke his leg and had to be hospitalized. While in hospital he had the conviction that the brothers should choose the other site for the monastery. They did. As they were building they discovered that the site had been the venue of a small 12th century monastery. The foundation of the first monastery church was discovered as were the graves of the monks who had lived at the
monastery. Only one very old man of Nafpatkos remembered hearing of the monastery.
As the men began to build, contributions came from people in the area, the larger Greek community and the Greek “diaspora” abroad. Today, there are 30 monks - all university educated who run the monastery, a conference center, a 24-hour radio station, a printery for devotional
and instructional materials; they raise their food with a state-of-art fishery, and make their own wine. There are 3 churches on the property - an oratory open at all times for pilgrims; a monastic church, and a Cathedral which is in the process of being built (the original Cathedral was destroyed in 1572 and never rebuilt). The monks also run a summer camp for children of the area. Abbot Spyridon calmly maintains “God has money. We are doing God’s work. All will be well.” The monks work hard, look to be very healthy and seem happy.
As the Order of the Holy Cross prepares for our annual chapter in June, the superior, each house and each brother-not-in-residence prepares a budget for the coming year. The approach of each of us is telling of our faith, our understanding of God’s involvement in our monastic life and our personality. The national economy is volatile - the value of the dollar is down and the cost of living steadily rising.
In all reality, contributions may be less. Perhaps fewer people will be able to visit. Undoubtedly we will try to curb expenses and discern what is unnecessary or even extravagant. What is our attitude - is it confidence, panic, anger, helplessness - or even escapism? Jesus tells us not to worry but to strive first for the Kingdom of God and God’s righteousness and all these things will be given. “All these things” - referring to life’s necessities, tools for wholeness of life. In chapter 7 of Matthew's gospel account Jesus says. “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you.” One of the companions of our Order is very savvy about financial matters and some years ago we asked her to serve on the financial committee of the Order. She continues to remind us that the good ordering of our financial resources is a theological exercise. God gives us life, our talents, our resources. “God has money.” Money is power. God has power. In Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians he reminds the church and us that we are both servants of Christ and stewards of God’s mysteries (I Cor. 6:1).
How do we use those resources? How do we manage if we have plenty? How do we manage if we have little? How do we exercise generosity and hospitality?
Do we believe in our mission, our work, our lives? Will we ask God’s help; will we seek out resources which are there; will we knock (explore) the various possibilities?
Do we believe that God has made and keeps covenant with us - a covenant based on love, righteousness, hope?
I have shared one story of a religious community in Greece. There are countless stories of God’s generosity to those who want to live godly lives and who also want to enable others to know the riches of God’s grace.
We receive life from God - it is God’s gift, a gift made marvelous by the grace given through Jesus Christ and the abiding presence of God’s Holy Spirit. When God, and the gift of God, is our chiefest joy, needs are met and there will be abundant sufficiency for others as well.
Amen.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
RCL - Proper 3 A - 25 May 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
RCL - Proper 3 A - 25 May 2008
From Baptist to Benedictine
St Paul's Episcopal church, Tustin, CA
Mr. Charles Mizelle, Aspirant to OHC
RCL - Proper 3 A - Sunday 25 May 2008
Isa 49:8-16a
I Cor 4:1-5
Matt 6:24-34
Opening Prayer: Come Holy Spirit and fill your people with love, joy, peace and wisdom. Amen”
Good Morning.
I’m honored to have this opportunity to share a small slice of my faith journey with you. In many ways it is a story that has been repeated all too frequently.
Child grows up in a religious home.
Child loves the Lord and has a deep spiritual life.
Child comes to an age of realization and struggles with being gay.
Child prays, hopes and even submits to an exorcism to not be gay anymore.
Child actually believes if he gets married his problem will go away.
This WAS my story. And standing here today reflecting back to the struggles I went through in my teens and 20’s seems all so unnecessary. Yet, some 30 years later, this is a story that is repeating itself in the lives of thousands of young people right now.
I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I truly had a loving home. And the faith I had was real and deep. And I hear the call of God from our reading this morning from Isaiah. God delivers a fourfold declaration of hope to the Israelites who have been exiled in Babylon: “I have answered you...I have helped you...I have kept you...I have given you”.
Let me tell you how...
Well getting married was not the magic pill to change me. Now I know that it was God’s pressure cooker to bring to the surface all of the issues He wanted me to face. But living those 6 years was hell on earth for us both. Feeling like I was falling off a cliff and on the verge of a mental breakdown I finally mustered the courage to get a divorce. And this proved to be the defining moment between me and the Baptist church.
Divorce was anathema to God’s Word. And at the time of my greatest spiritual need, a time when I desperately needed pastoral care, my church decided it was time to exercise church discipline. It began with a visit from my pastor and a deacon asking me to leave the church unless I changed my ways. But that was just the beginning.
My landlord was a member of the church and they told her they could not keep me as a tenant because I was living outside of God’s will. They threatened to contact my employer to tell them they should not keep a person like me employed. The small circle of friends I had for support were told to banish me from their lives. Here is the surprising part. All of this church discipline was not about me coming out of the closet as a gay man. I had not come out. That struggle was still buried deep within me in a very fearful place. No, I was being disciplined for getting a divorce. Imagine my shock when several months later I am sitting in a court room to finalize our divorce and 20 + people show up to contest the divorce and testify against me. This was without a doubt the most difficult time of my life. What had meant everything to me growing up as a child: my faith, God, the church, had all been ripped away from me. And I knew what it meant to look into the eyes of hate and be on the receiving end it.
It took a good 6 months for the dust to settle from all of this. And it was then that I had my second born again experience. Yes, I had had the Baptist born again experience as a young child. But this second born again experience was just between me, God and my bathroom mirror. I was home alone in a small studio apartment. I got up and went into my bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. And in front of that mirror I began a verbal conversation with God. I told God I was tired of the struggle, I was tired of living in denial, and I wasn’t willing to do it anymore. I said God I love you but I can’t go on living this way. I said I know you love me God but more importantly I love myself. I accept myself and it is okay that I am gay.
Well let me tell you I busted out of that proverbial closet so hard there was no closet left. The door shattered, the hinges blew off, there was no closet for me to ever return to, and I never looked back. I also never looked back at the Baptist church. I was done with it. The damage was too deep.
It took years but I finally found a new spiritual home in an eastern meditation society called Self Realization Fellowship. There I grew in many new ways. There I learned that God is too big for just one faith tradition. There I learned what Jesus meant when he said “In my Fathers house are many mansions...and I go there to prepare a place for you.” There is a place for all God’s children: Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu and Buddhist. And even a place for a gay man like me.
As much of a healing place as the Self Realization Fellowship was for me I still missed my Christian tradition. And I had a growing hunger for it. I prayed to ask God if there really could be a Christian church out there that would truly accept me, as the traditional hymn says “Just As I Am”. It was about this time I began hearing in the national news about the stir being caused by the Episcopal church ordaining a gay bishop. I knew absolutely nothing about the Episcopal church but I truly felt joy in hearing this news. For me and hundreds like me it was not just national news--it was Good News.
Then something quite amazing happened. I had moved back into the West Hollywood area and it was June. Time for the annual gay parade. Now this is an event that I personally run from. I found it pedantic. But when you live just one block from Santa Monica Blvd you have to give in to the tens of thousands of people who show up for a visit. Having secured my parking space for the weekend I wasn’t going to give it up under any circumstances. So on that June Sunday I walked the 2 blocks from my home to Santa Monica Blvd to be a casual observer of the day's celebration.
The Gay Pride Parade offered every group and organization you would expect. But there was one group that took my breath away. In this wild and party atmosphere I looked down the boulevard to see literally hundreds of smiling, peaceful Episcopalians carrying signs saying "God loves you and we welcome you". It was a very powerful moment for me. And one that gave me courage to tiptoe back into a Christian church.
That church was All Saints Beverly Hills. I will never forget that first Sunday. I scanned the entire congregation to see how many big black Scofield Bibles I could spot. I didn’t see a one. But I just knew someone was there to tell me I was an abomination to God and hit me over the head with “God’s Word” in an old fashioned Bible thumping and then show me the door. When I understood that it was really okay for me to go to the altar to receive communion I thought they simply do not know who I really am and I am not going to tell them. I tiptoed around that parish for a literal 6 months waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting to be told I really wasn’t welcome there. And it never happened. What did happen is that they just kept pulling me in deeper and deeper. I was asked to actually participate in the workings of the parish. Alpha, Beta, Covenant classes, small group Bible studies, the homeless ministry, and retreats. I kept meeting more people like me. And God was healing the deep wounds in my soul.
A retreat for the gay and lesbian ministry was announced and I instantly signed up to go. But a short time later I learned my company was downsizing and I was looking at a layoff. Time to circle the horses, pull in the wagons, spend no money, and go into an intense job search. Gay retreat canceled. Several weeks later a miracle happened. A lady approached me and said that an anonymous donor had provided my way to attend the retreat. To say I was stunned would be an enormous understatement. It was a moment of receiving pure love for me. Church discipline had turned into Love in Action.
The retreat was an amazing experience. Forty plus people, all with similar experiences to mine, all on an amazing faith journey. And the Holy Spirit was at work in my life. During my free afternoon someone said “Do you know that up the hill is an Episcopal monastery?” Once again I was stunned. To me monastery meant Catholic. I was intrigued and wanted to go. I had had a long fascination with Monastic communities and in my late 30’s actually inquired about the monastic life at Self Realization Fellowship. My visit there had a profound impact on me. It was frustrating to only be there a couple of hours. I knew I had to return. It would be a while before I fully understood why.
God blessed me with a new dream job. But it meant a move to Orange County. I was devastated to move away from All Saints Beverly Hills. Why would God take me away from the place I had been looking for all of my life. Having lived in Los Angeles for 20+ years my impression of Orange County was not too great. My friends teased me that I would be living behind the “Orange Curtain”. My total experience of Orange County was it was simply the place you drove through on your way to San Diego.
After settling in to a new job and home I started my search for a new church. I visited many and did a lot of looking on the web. When I came to St. Paul’s there was something different. It began with a phone conversation with Wayne reassuring me this is a welcoming parish to everyone. When I arrived here my first Sunday I was never before made to feel so welcomed in all my life. I would later know that I was simply the recipient of the incredible gift of Susan Dean. Then I got to hear Kay preach. It touched my heart and my mind and I was hooked.
The Good News that initially attracted me to the Episcopal church was turning into not-so-good-news. Schisms, ultimatums from the global south, parishes and whole dioceses leaving the Episcopal Church. Was this that “other shoe dropping” I was initially afraid of? Early in my time here at St. Paul’s I heard a sermon from Reese saying whatever happens in the Episcopal Church this will always be a parish that welcomes EVERYONE! I knew I had found the right home.
The next stop on my journey became EFM. Being a wannabe armchair theologian such an intentional study of scripture was a natural for me. EFM, Education for Ministry, has been the highlight of my time at St. Paul’s. It is a Bible study like no other. Quite honestly it is the toughest Bible study that you will ever love. The first thing I learned in EFM is the name Israel means one who struggles with God. I certainly identified with that. And I have certainly struggled at times with the EFM material. But something truly wonderful happens every Tuesday night when about 8 people come together to share their own struggle. We always have an extra guest...the Holy Spirit. And that EFM classroom becomes the upper room at St. Paul’s.
Profound conversations occur. And you witness first hand God’s amazing work in each and every life. EFM will enliven and enrich your faith. It will give you the tools to bring God into the mundane and the profound of daily life.
New faith was reborn in me at All Saints Beverly Hills. EFM at St. Paul’s became the place where that faith matured. A part of my EFM commitment was to return to that Episcopal monastery in Santa Barbara and explore how being there just a few hours could effect me so profoundly. Returning there felt like going home. And my head was full of “if only”, “if things had been different”, “another time, another life” type of statements. Upon meeting with the Prior, to discuss another subject entirely, I casually said I wished I was younger and circumstances were different for me to consider a monastic vocation. His response took me completely by surprise. He said “You are not too old for us to consider you. We would consider you.” My head exploded. To this day I cannot tell you what was said for the rest of the conversation. I stepped out of time and was transfigured to another place. I ran back to my guest room and fell on my knees in tears. Just the thought that this was a viable possibility coupled with the realization that my circumstances in life actually do allow me to consider this was more than I could process.
It has now been 1 year since I formerly entered a discernment process for a monastic vocation. It has been a year of miracles, uncanny coincidences, doors opening and circumstances falling into place. I am overjoyed to tell you this September I will enter the Order of Holy Cross monastic community, in West Park NY, as a postulant. There, I will go through a 3 year formation process to live the rest of my life as a Monk. But on a sad note, this is my last Sunday with you. This week I depart on a 3 month sabbatical to begin a time of study and reflection to transition from my corporate life to a monastic vocation.
St Paul's Episcopal church, Tustin, CA
Mr. Charles Mizelle, Aspirant to OHC
RCL - Proper 3 A - Sunday 25 May 2008
Isa 49:8-16a
I Cor 4:1-5
Matt 6:24-34
Opening Prayer: Come Holy Spirit and fill your people with love, joy, peace and wisdom. Amen”
Good Morning.
I’m honored to have this opportunity to share a small slice of my faith journey with you. In many ways it is a story that has been repeated all too frequently.
Child grows up in a religious home.
Child loves the Lord and has a deep spiritual life.
Child comes to an age of realization and struggles with being gay.
Child prays, hopes and even submits to an exorcism to not be gay anymore.
Child actually believes if he gets married his problem will go away.
This WAS my story. And standing here today reflecting back to the struggles I went through in my teens and 20’s seems all so unnecessary. Yet, some 30 years later, this is a story that is repeating itself in the lives of thousands of young people right now.
I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I truly had a loving home. And the faith I had was real and deep. And I hear the call of God from our reading this morning from Isaiah. God delivers a fourfold declaration of hope to the Israelites who have been exiled in Babylon: “I have answered you...I have helped you...I have kept you...I have given you”.
Let me tell you how...
Well getting married was not the magic pill to change me. Now I know that it was God’s pressure cooker to bring to the surface all of the issues He wanted me to face. But living those 6 years was hell on earth for us both. Feeling like I was falling off a cliff and on the verge of a mental breakdown I finally mustered the courage to get a divorce. And this proved to be the defining moment between me and the Baptist church.
Divorce was anathema to God’s Word. And at the time of my greatest spiritual need, a time when I desperately needed pastoral care, my church decided it was time to exercise church discipline. It began with a visit from my pastor and a deacon asking me to leave the church unless I changed my ways. But that was just the beginning.
My landlord was a member of the church and they told her they could not keep me as a tenant because I was living outside of God’s will. They threatened to contact my employer to tell them they should not keep a person like me employed. The small circle of friends I had for support were told to banish me from their lives. Here is the surprising part. All of this church discipline was not about me coming out of the closet as a gay man. I had not come out. That struggle was still buried deep within me in a very fearful place. No, I was being disciplined for getting a divorce. Imagine my shock when several months later I am sitting in a court room to finalize our divorce and 20 + people show up to contest the divorce and testify against me. This was without a doubt the most difficult time of my life. What had meant everything to me growing up as a child: my faith, God, the church, had all been ripped away from me. And I knew what it meant to look into the eyes of hate and be on the receiving end it.
It took a good 6 months for the dust to settle from all of this. And it was then that I had my second born again experience. Yes, I had had the Baptist born again experience as a young child. But this second born again experience was just between me, God and my bathroom mirror. I was home alone in a small studio apartment. I got up and went into my bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. And in front of that mirror I began a verbal conversation with God. I told God I was tired of the struggle, I was tired of living in denial, and I wasn’t willing to do it anymore. I said God I love you but I can’t go on living this way. I said I know you love me God but more importantly I love myself. I accept myself and it is okay that I am gay.
Well let me tell you I busted out of that proverbial closet so hard there was no closet left. The door shattered, the hinges blew off, there was no closet for me to ever return to, and I never looked back. I also never looked back at the Baptist church. I was done with it. The damage was too deep.
It took years but I finally found a new spiritual home in an eastern meditation society called Self Realization Fellowship. There I grew in many new ways. There I learned that God is too big for just one faith tradition. There I learned what Jesus meant when he said “In my Fathers house are many mansions...and I go there to prepare a place for you.” There is a place for all God’s children: Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu and Buddhist. And even a place for a gay man like me.
As much of a healing place as the Self Realization Fellowship was for me I still missed my Christian tradition. And I had a growing hunger for it. I prayed to ask God if there really could be a Christian church out there that would truly accept me, as the traditional hymn says “Just As I Am”. It was about this time I began hearing in the national news about the stir being caused by the Episcopal church ordaining a gay bishop. I knew absolutely nothing about the Episcopal church but I truly felt joy in hearing this news. For me and hundreds like me it was not just national news--it was Good News.
Then something quite amazing happened. I had moved back into the West Hollywood area and it was June. Time for the annual gay parade. Now this is an event that I personally run from. I found it pedantic. But when you live just one block from Santa Monica Blvd you have to give in to the tens of thousands of people who show up for a visit. Having secured my parking space for the weekend I wasn’t going to give it up under any circumstances. So on that June Sunday I walked the 2 blocks from my home to Santa Monica Blvd to be a casual observer of the day's celebration.
The Gay Pride Parade offered every group and organization you would expect. But there was one group that took my breath away. In this wild and party atmosphere I looked down the boulevard to see literally hundreds of smiling, peaceful Episcopalians carrying signs saying "God loves you and we welcome you". It was a very powerful moment for me. And one that gave me courage to tiptoe back into a Christian church.
That church was All Saints Beverly Hills. I will never forget that first Sunday. I scanned the entire congregation to see how many big black Scofield Bibles I could spot. I didn’t see a one. But I just knew someone was there to tell me I was an abomination to God and hit me over the head with “God’s Word” in an old fashioned Bible thumping and then show me the door. When I understood that it was really okay for me to go to the altar to receive communion I thought they simply do not know who I really am and I am not going to tell them. I tiptoed around that parish for a literal 6 months waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting to be told I really wasn’t welcome there. And it never happened. What did happen is that they just kept pulling me in deeper and deeper. I was asked to actually participate in the workings of the parish. Alpha, Beta, Covenant classes, small group Bible studies, the homeless ministry, and retreats. I kept meeting more people like me. And God was healing the deep wounds in my soul.
A retreat for the gay and lesbian ministry was announced and I instantly signed up to go. But a short time later I learned my company was downsizing and I was looking at a layoff. Time to circle the horses, pull in the wagons, spend no money, and go into an intense job search. Gay retreat canceled. Several weeks later a miracle happened. A lady approached me and said that an anonymous donor had provided my way to attend the retreat. To say I was stunned would be an enormous understatement. It was a moment of receiving pure love for me. Church discipline had turned into Love in Action.
The retreat was an amazing experience. Forty plus people, all with similar experiences to mine, all on an amazing faith journey. And the Holy Spirit was at work in my life. During my free afternoon someone said “Do you know that up the hill is an Episcopal monastery?” Once again I was stunned. To me monastery meant Catholic. I was intrigued and wanted to go. I had had a long fascination with Monastic communities and in my late 30’s actually inquired about the monastic life at Self Realization Fellowship. My visit there had a profound impact on me. It was frustrating to only be there a couple of hours. I knew I had to return. It would be a while before I fully understood why.
God blessed me with a new dream job. But it meant a move to Orange County. I was devastated to move away from All Saints Beverly Hills. Why would God take me away from the place I had been looking for all of my life. Having lived in Los Angeles for 20+ years my impression of Orange County was not too great. My friends teased me that I would be living behind the “Orange Curtain”. My total experience of Orange County was it was simply the place you drove through on your way to San Diego.
After settling in to a new job and home I started my search for a new church. I visited many and did a lot of looking on the web. When I came to St. Paul’s there was something different. It began with a phone conversation with Wayne reassuring me this is a welcoming parish to everyone. When I arrived here my first Sunday I was never before made to feel so welcomed in all my life. I would later know that I was simply the recipient of the incredible gift of Susan Dean. Then I got to hear Kay preach. It touched my heart and my mind and I was hooked.
The Good News that initially attracted me to the Episcopal church was turning into not-so-good-news. Schisms, ultimatums from the global south, parishes and whole dioceses leaving the Episcopal Church. Was this that “other shoe dropping” I was initially afraid of? Early in my time here at St. Paul’s I heard a sermon from Reese saying whatever happens in the Episcopal Church this will always be a parish that welcomes EVERYONE! I knew I had found the right home.
The next stop on my journey became EFM. Being a wannabe armchair theologian such an intentional study of scripture was a natural for me. EFM, Education for Ministry, has been the highlight of my time at St. Paul’s. It is a Bible study like no other. Quite honestly it is the toughest Bible study that you will ever love. The first thing I learned in EFM is the name Israel means one who struggles with God. I certainly identified with that. And I have certainly struggled at times with the EFM material. But something truly wonderful happens every Tuesday night when about 8 people come together to share their own struggle. We always have an extra guest...the Holy Spirit. And that EFM classroom becomes the upper room at St. Paul’s.
Profound conversations occur. And you witness first hand God’s amazing work in each and every life. EFM will enliven and enrich your faith. It will give you the tools to bring God into the mundane and the profound of daily life.
New faith was reborn in me at All Saints Beverly Hills. EFM at St. Paul’s became the place where that faith matured. A part of my EFM commitment was to return to that Episcopal monastery in Santa Barbara and explore how being there just a few hours could effect me so profoundly. Returning there felt like going home. And my head was full of “if only”, “if things had been different”, “another time, another life” type of statements. Upon meeting with the Prior, to discuss another subject entirely, I casually said I wished I was younger and circumstances were different for me to consider a monastic vocation. His response took me completely by surprise. He said “You are not too old for us to consider you. We would consider you.” My head exploded. To this day I cannot tell you what was said for the rest of the conversation. I stepped out of time and was transfigured to another place. I ran back to my guest room and fell on my knees in tears. Just the thought that this was a viable possibility coupled with the realization that my circumstances in life actually do allow me to consider this was more than I could process.
It has now been 1 year since I formerly entered a discernment process for a monastic vocation. It has been a year of miracles, uncanny coincidences, doors opening and circumstances falling into place. I am overjoyed to tell you this September I will enter the Order of Holy Cross monastic community, in West Park NY, as a postulant. There, I will go through a 3 year formation process to live the rest of my life as a Monk. But on a sad note, this is my last Sunday with you. This week I depart on a 3 month sabbatical to begin a time of study and reflection to transition from my corporate life to a monastic vocation.
Dogwood at Holy Cross Monastery - by Randy OHC
I am not leaving the world. I will not be cloistered behind walls, I will not be a hermit in silence. I will still have my computer, the internet and e-mail, I will even have my iPod. Today’s monastic communities are about learning to be fully alive in God, living an intentional life in community to serve the needs of others. It is first and foremost a life of prayer. We are a Benedictine Order which means hospitality is at our core. Finally I get to live the rest of my life welcoming everyone back to God: all races, all genders, all sexual orientations, all of those who have been excluded and marginalized. We even welcome Baptists.
Amen!
Amen!
Monday, May 19, 2008
RCL - Proper 2 A - 18 May 2008
Mount Calvary Monastery, Santa Barbara, CA
Brother James Michael Dowd, n/OHC
RCL - Trinity Sunday - Yr A - Sunday 18 May 2008
Genesis 1:1-2:4a
2 Corinthians 13:11-13
Matthew 28:16-20
It Just Doesn’t Add Up
In the name of the Triune God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
When I observed that I was on the rota to preach for Trinity Sunday, I could not help but think of the first priest who had a real impact on my life: Father Ron Sequin. Back in the later part of my high school years and the beginning of my college years, Ron was my parish priest and then, campus minister. I consider him the best preacher I have ever heard on a consistent basis. Ron had a way of making the Scripture readings actually come alive in a way that had genuine impact on my life.
So, it was surprising to me, one Trinity Sunday, having just complimented him on his sermon, that he said to me: “you know, every year around Ash Wednesday, I begin praying that I don’t have to preach on Trinity Sunday - it’s the one day of the year I never know what to say. But every year I seem to get stuck with it.” I’ll never forget his chuckle, when I responded that the other priests in the parish must have begun praying somewhere around Epiphany, and that he might want to consider taking up the discipline somewhere around the beginning of Advent. Well, Ron has crossed over to the other side now, and I am quite confident that he has been chuckling as he watched me struggle with this sermon all week.
It has not been lost on me that nowhere in the New Testament does anyone attempt to explain the nature of the Trinity. To be sure, as we just heard, there are Trinitarian formulas, but neither St. Paul, nor any of the Evangelists actually attempt to explain the nature of the Trinity. They write about characteristics of the Trinity, but never the actual nature of the Trinity. So, neither will I. Because when I add 1+1+1, I get three, I don’t get one. And yet, three is one. How can that be? It just doesn’t add up. And for that, I say, thanks be to God!
I thank God because one of the most important theological concepts in Christianity is steeped in mystery. A mystery that we simply cannot easily explain away. And that makes our minds, formed by modernity, just a little bit crazy. We twenty-first century folks have been conditioned to want facts and figures, we want to be able to prove something as verifiable, and, in the event we cannot prove it thus, it stands as untrue for lack of proof.
But I think a fact-based approach to faith is missing the point by a mile. We need a Truth-based approach to faith. And for that, we need mystery, we need wonder, we need imagination. This is not to denigrate science, or mathematics or even theological studies. Not at all. Each of those disciplines has taught us about some aspect of God’s awesome and wondrous creation, and therefore has taught us something about God, about the Trinity. But it seems to me that to be on this journey with God is to begin to get to know God. And to begin to get to know God, is to begin to fall in love with God. And when it comes to loving God, a little mystery can go a long way.
So, what I’d like to do today is to focus on our relationship with the Trinity. A good place to start is with our first reading - the very beginning of the book of Genesis. In this first account of Creation, we are told that “God created humankind in his image; in the image of God he created them.”(1) So, if getting to know the Trinity is to begin to fall in love with the Trinity – and I mean this in the broadest sense of that expression – then love relationships between two people might give us an indication of what our relationship with the Trinity looks like.
Think about anyone you have ever loved. Maybe a spouse or partner, maybe a best friend, a sibling – anyone. I am quite sure that you would be able to list all kinds of qualities that this particular person has. They might be very caring, they might have a big heart, a great sense of humor, a particularly good intellect, real character, the best eyes on earth, whatever. But no matter how many of these great qualities your loved one has, it doesn’t add up to the amount of love that you feel for him or her. Love so far exceeds any particular set of qualities as to be rather, well, mysterious. You can’t actually explain in a factual way why you love a particular person. You just do. You can explain facts that are important in how you came to love this person, but not the Truth of your great love for them. And that is the glory of love.
A Christian lives the life of faith steeped in the mysterious. For to love is to accept that we live in a constant relationship with the other, that is beyond all characteristics, all shared history, all the facts. But the most important thing to remember about the mysterious is that it is an invitation. The mysterious is an invitation to love in a holy way, to explore more deeply, to enter more fully, into the wonder of God, the completeness of the Trinity.
That idea of completeness is central to the idea of the Trinity. In ancient cultures throughout the world, the symbolism of three often has something to do with completeness or perfection, total, whole, holy. In our own tradition, three certainly means that and can be found not only in references to the Trinity, but in so many other ways in the New Testament. The Holy Family is a threesome of Jesus, Mary and Joseph; there are Three Kings at Epiphany; Jesus public ministry is for three years; there are the three leaders of the Apostles: Peter, James and John; there are the three denials of Peter when Jesus is arrested; and Peter’s three affirmations of love after the Resurrection; Jesus is one of three who are crucified; he hangs on the cross for three hours; and is raised three days later. Well, I could go on and on, but you get the point. It’s not that there aren’t other numbers that have significance – seven, twelve and forty certainly come to mind, but three has a special place in our spirituality.
In Celtic Christianity, the Trinity holds a very prominent place in that expression of the faith. With a particular emphasis on the completeness of God and on our life being folded into that completeness. It has to do with oneness and with an experience of the holy that is both very mysterious and very palpable. The Celtic symbol for the Trinity is an intermeshing weave that has no beginning and no end. Clearly there are three aspects to the symbol, yet it is one. It goes on forever while at the same time inviting the viewer in as he or she looks at it. For me, somewhere in that weave, seems to be the mystery of the Trinity. It is eternal, it is complete, it is whole.
God the Father, and God the Son, and God the Spirit, are three separate beings, yet one. They are the perfect community: separate, yet one. Entering into that mystery is to take the position that I am going to live into this love affair. That I am going to enter into this relationship with the Trinity as part of the Body of Christ. Since I belong to Christ, I therefore belong as a member of that most holy community, the Trinity.
A trinitarian ceramic pavement in the woods of Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
And this is where the palpable nature of the Celtic Trinity is evident and which our Scriptures today support. To live into the mystery of the Trinity, is to live into the love of the Trinity. And living into the love of the Trinity demands certain things. For example, in that very brief passage from the Second Letter to the Corinthians how does St. Paul advise the Christian community to live? Well, among other things: they are to “agree with one another”, in other words, find a way to “live in peace” with one another so that the “grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the communion of the Holy Spirit will be with all of [them].”(2)
And what does Jesus tell the disciples, and by extension us, just before he ascends to Heaven? Well, we are to “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” And we are to “teach them to obey everything that [Jesus has] commanded.”(3)
To do this, to invite all of God’s people into life with the mysterious, is to offer God’s people the possibilities that can only come when we are willing to embrace that which is mysterious. To do this, is to say to a broken and often terrified world, that we stand on the firm ground of the mysterious. We love, despite everything in the world around us that pleads with us to hate. We forgive, despite everything in the world around us that pleads with us for vengeance. We dare to imagine a Triune God, despite everything in the world around us that encourages us to doubt. We revel in the mysterious for that enables us to love, to forgive, to imagine. We rejoice in the Trinity, precisely because it just doesn’t add up.
AMEN.
[1].Genesis 1:27, NRSV
[2] 2 Corinthians 13:13, NRSV
[3] Matthew 28: 18-20, NRSV
Brother James Michael Dowd, n/OHC
RCL - Trinity Sunday - Yr A - Sunday 18 May 2008
Genesis 1:1-2:4a
2 Corinthians 13:11-13
Matthew 28:16-20
It Just Doesn’t Add Up
In the name of the Triune God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
When I observed that I was on the rota to preach for Trinity Sunday, I could not help but think of the first priest who had a real impact on my life: Father Ron Sequin. Back in the later part of my high school years and the beginning of my college years, Ron was my parish priest and then, campus minister. I consider him the best preacher I have ever heard on a consistent basis. Ron had a way of making the Scripture readings actually come alive in a way that had genuine impact on my life.
So, it was surprising to me, one Trinity Sunday, having just complimented him on his sermon, that he said to me: “you know, every year around Ash Wednesday, I begin praying that I don’t have to preach on Trinity Sunday - it’s the one day of the year I never know what to say. But every year I seem to get stuck with it.” I’ll never forget his chuckle, when I responded that the other priests in the parish must have begun praying somewhere around Epiphany, and that he might want to consider taking up the discipline somewhere around the beginning of Advent. Well, Ron has crossed over to the other side now, and I am quite confident that he has been chuckling as he watched me struggle with this sermon all week.
It has not been lost on me that nowhere in the New Testament does anyone attempt to explain the nature of the Trinity. To be sure, as we just heard, there are Trinitarian formulas, but neither St. Paul, nor any of the Evangelists actually attempt to explain the nature of the Trinity. They write about characteristics of the Trinity, but never the actual nature of the Trinity. So, neither will I. Because when I add 1+1+1, I get three, I don’t get one. And yet, three is one. How can that be? It just doesn’t add up. And for that, I say, thanks be to God!
I thank God because one of the most important theological concepts in Christianity is steeped in mystery. A mystery that we simply cannot easily explain away. And that makes our minds, formed by modernity, just a little bit crazy. We twenty-first century folks have been conditioned to want facts and figures, we want to be able to prove something as verifiable, and, in the event we cannot prove it thus, it stands as untrue for lack of proof.
But I think a fact-based approach to faith is missing the point by a mile. We need a Truth-based approach to faith. And for that, we need mystery, we need wonder, we need imagination. This is not to denigrate science, or mathematics or even theological studies. Not at all. Each of those disciplines has taught us about some aspect of God’s awesome and wondrous creation, and therefore has taught us something about God, about the Trinity. But it seems to me that to be on this journey with God is to begin to get to know God. And to begin to get to know God, is to begin to fall in love with God. And when it comes to loving God, a little mystery can go a long way.
So, what I’d like to do today is to focus on our relationship with the Trinity. A good place to start is with our first reading - the very beginning of the book of Genesis. In this first account of Creation, we are told that “God created humankind in his image; in the image of God he created them.”(1) So, if getting to know the Trinity is to begin to fall in love with the Trinity – and I mean this in the broadest sense of that expression – then love relationships between two people might give us an indication of what our relationship with the Trinity looks like.
Think about anyone you have ever loved. Maybe a spouse or partner, maybe a best friend, a sibling – anyone. I am quite sure that you would be able to list all kinds of qualities that this particular person has. They might be very caring, they might have a big heart, a great sense of humor, a particularly good intellect, real character, the best eyes on earth, whatever. But no matter how many of these great qualities your loved one has, it doesn’t add up to the amount of love that you feel for him or her. Love so far exceeds any particular set of qualities as to be rather, well, mysterious. You can’t actually explain in a factual way why you love a particular person. You just do. You can explain facts that are important in how you came to love this person, but not the Truth of your great love for them. And that is the glory of love.
A Christian lives the life of faith steeped in the mysterious. For to love is to accept that we live in a constant relationship with the other, that is beyond all characteristics, all shared history, all the facts. But the most important thing to remember about the mysterious is that it is an invitation. The mysterious is an invitation to love in a holy way, to explore more deeply, to enter more fully, into the wonder of God, the completeness of the Trinity.
That idea of completeness is central to the idea of the Trinity. In ancient cultures throughout the world, the symbolism of three often has something to do with completeness or perfection, total, whole, holy. In our own tradition, three certainly means that and can be found not only in references to the Trinity, but in so many other ways in the New Testament. The Holy Family is a threesome of Jesus, Mary and Joseph; there are Three Kings at Epiphany; Jesus public ministry is for three years; there are the three leaders of the Apostles: Peter, James and John; there are the three denials of Peter when Jesus is arrested; and Peter’s three affirmations of love after the Resurrection; Jesus is one of three who are crucified; he hangs on the cross for three hours; and is raised three days later. Well, I could go on and on, but you get the point. It’s not that there aren’t other numbers that have significance – seven, twelve and forty certainly come to mind, but three has a special place in our spirituality.
In Celtic Christianity, the Trinity holds a very prominent place in that expression of the faith. With a particular emphasis on the completeness of God and on our life being folded into that completeness. It has to do with oneness and with an experience of the holy that is both very mysterious and very palpable. The Celtic symbol for the Trinity is an intermeshing weave that has no beginning and no end. Clearly there are three aspects to the symbol, yet it is one. It goes on forever while at the same time inviting the viewer in as he or she looks at it. For me, somewhere in that weave, seems to be the mystery of the Trinity. It is eternal, it is complete, it is whole.
God the Father, and God the Son, and God the Spirit, are three separate beings, yet one. They are the perfect community: separate, yet one. Entering into that mystery is to take the position that I am going to live into this love affair. That I am going to enter into this relationship with the Trinity as part of the Body of Christ. Since I belong to Christ, I therefore belong as a member of that most holy community, the Trinity.
A trinitarian ceramic pavement in the woods of Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NYAnd this is where the palpable nature of the Celtic Trinity is evident and which our Scriptures today support. To live into the mystery of the Trinity, is to live into the love of the Trinity. And living into the love of the Trinity demands certain things. For example, in that very brief passage from the Second Letter to the Corinthians how does St. Paul advise the Christian community to live? Well, among other things: they are to “agree with one another”, in other words, find a way to “live in peace” with one another so that the “grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the communion of the Holy Spirit will be with all of [them].”(2)
And what does Jesus tell the disciples, and by extension us, just before he ascends to Heaven? Well, we are to “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” And we are to “teach them to obey everything that [Jesus has] commanded.”(3)
To do this, to invite all of God’s people into life with the mysterious, is to offer God’s people the possibilities that can only come when we are willing to embrace that which is mysterious. To do this, is to say to a broken and often terrified world, that we stand on the firm ground of the mysterious. We love, despite everything in the world around us that pleads with us to hate. We forgive, despite everything in the world around us that pleads with us for vengeance. We dare to imagine a Triune God, despite everything in the world around us that encourages us to doubt. We revel in the mysterious for that enables us to love, to forgive, to imagine. We rejoice in the Trinity, precisely because it just doesn’t add up.
AMEN.
[1].Genesis 1:27, NRSV
[2] 2 Corinthians 13:13, NRSV
[3] Matthew 28: 18-20, NRSV
Sunday, May 4, 2008
RCL - Easter 7 A - 04 May 2008
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Mrs. Suzette Cayless, AHC
RCL - Easter 7 A - Sunday 04 May 2008
Acts 1:6-14
1 Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11
John 17:1-11
The period between Ascension and Pentecost is a time of waiting - and today’s lesson from Acts finds the apostles in the upper room in Jerusalem, together with Mary Jesus’ mother and other women, and Jesus’ brothers. They are waiting, as they had been told to do, for the coming of the Holy Spirit. Waiting is never easy and I suspect that there must have been many questions asked and much debate in that upper room. It is interesting that this group gathered together for the waiting time. This is something that humans tend to do when situations are confusing and uncertain; being in a group offers support and encouragement.
Waiting is a common experience: waiting for examination grades, for the results of medical tests, for a telephone call, for a relative to come home; waiting for a vacation to start, for a pay raise, for a jury verdict, for the birth of a child, for the death of a sick friend - the list could go on and on.
As I was reflecting on the business of waiting two instances in my own life came to mind. I grew up in Coventry, England during World War II. It struck me the other day that my older granddaughter is now just a year younger than I was when that war started. I remember how, each night, for many months, we waited for the air-raid sirens to begin sounding the alarm that would send us to the air-raid shelter. To sleep in our own beds for a whole night was a rarity. Usually we were hustled by our parents down to the bottom of the garden and into the air-raid shelter that had been constructed there. We were joined by neighbors from adjoining houses and as we tried to rest we listened for the planes to come over and for the explosions that signified the landing of bombs. I don’t recall being particularly frightened - I think I was probably more angry than anything at the disruption of my life. Looking back I am amazed at how we all functioned! The grown-ups in my life went to work each day; we children went to school and managed to receive a good education. The sense of community was strong; we gathered together during those air-raids and looked out for each other, all the time looking forward to the day when the war would be over.
The other recollection of waiting is more recent. My second granddaughter was due to arrive in mid-March this year. A couple of weeks before the due date, she turned herself round into the wrong position and so the obstetrician decided that a Cesarian section was necessary. The date was fixed. My husband and I drove to North Carolina to take care of the older child and to be there to help out while the mother recovered. On the set day preliminary tests were done only to discover that the baby had turned again making the Cesarian unnecessary. This meant a further period of waiting and uncertainty. We returned home to West Park and waited. A couple of weeks went by. Then a sudden phone call at lunch on a Saturday that our daughter-in-law was having labor pains sent us hurriedly into the car for another drive south. We arrived - and we all waited. Nothing further seemed to be happening. Frustration was growing on all sides. A time was set to induce labor but on that day as our son was just about to drive his wife to the hospital there was a call to say that due to many admissions during the night there was no bed available. So we waited some more. Finally our daughter-in-law was admitted and the baby duly arrived. But the waiting was difficult to cope with.
I want to read a short story that illustrates a fundamental reason for the difficulty of so many waiting situations. It is one of Arnold Lobel’s tales called “The Garden” from the book “Frog and Toad Together” and it goes like this:
What makes waiting so difficult? I think that basically it is the fact that so often we are not in control of a situation. For Toad, the growing process of the seeds was quite beyond his power to direct. As a child I could not control those bombs. As a grandmother I could not control the timing of my grandchild’s arrival. I wonder how the apostles coped as they waited? Were they impatient, like Toad? Were some of them angry? Were they frustrated because they were not in charge? We do not know the questions raised and the exchanges in that upper room.
In his commentary on “Acts,” William H. Willimon says that the apostles “... wait as those who are still dependent upon the Father’s faithfulness, those who have no control over the timetable of a beneficent God who graciously allows enough time to accomplish the work begun in Jesus.” The apostles could not imagine what or who the Holy Spirit was and when he, she, it, would arrive. One thing we do know is that they devoted themselves to prayer. This was not a time of idleness. They remained faithful and did what they were able to do, while not understanding what the outcome might be. “All these with one accord devoted themselves to prayer.”
This is the kind of community support that we can always engage in and generate regardless of impatience, anger, frustration, or a feeling of helplessness. Prayer is a mark of the Christian life - both individual and corporate prayer. As we proceed through this year’s liturgical period of waiting before the Feast of Pentecost let us determine to use the time for renewed and deepened prayer - for ourselves, for each other, and for the world around us. Let us look anew for the promise of the Father and open our hearts for the coming afresh of the Holy Spirit to equip us for the call to witness in God’s world. Let us always remember that God is the God of the unexpected. We cannot control God’s moves - as Jesus said to Nicodemus (John 3:8), “The wind blows where it will, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know whence it comes or whither it goes; so it is with every one who is born of the Spirit.” We can only be patient, pray, and wait for God to surprise us - as He always does.
Amen.
Mrs. Suzette Cayless, AHC
RCL - Easter 7 A - Sunday 04 May 2008
Acts 1:6-14
1 Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11
John 17:1-11
The period between Ascension and Pentecost is a time of waiting - and today’s lesson from Acts finds the apostles in the upper room in Jerusalem, together with Mary Jesus’ mother and other women, and Jesus’ brothers. They are waiting, as they had been told to do, for the coming of the Holy Spirit. Waiting is never easy and I suspect that there must have been many questions asked and much debate in that upper room. It is interesting that this group gathered together for the waiting time. This is something that humans tend to do when situations are confusing and uncertain; being in a group offers support and encouragement.
Waiting is a common experience: waiting for examination grades, for the results of medical tests, for a telephone call, for a relative to come home; waiting for a vacation to start, for a pay raise, for a jury verdict, for the birth of a child, for the death of a sick friend - the list could go on and on.
As I was reflecting on the business of waiting two instances in my own life came to mind. I grew up in Coventry, England during World War II. It struck me the other day that my older granddaughter is now just a year younger than I was when that war started. I remember how, each night, for many months, we waited for the air-raid sirens to begin sounding the alarm that would send us to the air-raid shelter. To sleep in our own beds for a whole night was a rarity. Usually we were hustled by our parents down to the bottom of the garden and into the air-raid shelter that had been constructed there. We were joined by neighbors from adjoining houses and as we tried to rest we listened for the planes to come over and for the explosions that signified the landing of bombs. I don’t recall being particularly frightened - I think I was probably more angry than anything at the disruption of my life. Looking back I am amazed at how we all functioned! The grown-ups in my life went to work each day; we children went to school and managed to receive a good education. The sense of community was strong; we gathered together during those air-raids and looked out for each other, all the time looking forward to the day when the war would be over.
The other recollection of waiting is more recent. My second granddaughter was due to arrive in mid-March this year. A couple of weeks before the due date, she turned herself round into the wrong position and so the obstetrician decided that a Cesarian section was necessary. The date was fixed. My husband and I drove to North Carolina to take care of the older child and to be there to help out while the mother recovered. On the set day preliminary tests were done only to discover that the baby had turned again making the Cesarian unnecessary. This meant a further period of waiting and uncertainty. We returned home to West Park and waited. A couple of weeks went by. Then a sudden phone call at lunch on a Saturday that our daughter-in-law was having labor pains sent us hurriedly into the car for another drive south. We arrived - and we all waited. Nothing further seemed to be happening. Frustration was growing on all sides. A time was set to induce labor but on that day as our son was just about to drive his wife to the hospital there was a call to say that due to many admissions during the night there was no bed available. So we waited some more. Finally our daughter-in-law was admitted and the baby duly arrived. But the waiting was difficult to cope with.
I want to read a short story that illustrates a fundamental reason for the difficulty of so many waiting situations. It is one of Arnold Lobel’s tales called “The Garden” from the book “Frog and Toad Together” and it goes like this:
Frog was in his garden. Toad came walking by. “What a fine garden you have, Frog,” he said. “Yes,” said Frog. “It is very nice, but it was hard work.” “I wish I had a garden,” said Toad. “Here are some flower seeds. Plant them in the ground,” said Frog, “and soon you will have a garden.” “How soon?” asked Toad. “Quite soon,” said Frog.
Toad ran home. He planted the flower seeds. “Now seeds,” said Toad, “start growing.” Toad walked up and down a few times. The seeds did not start to grow. Toad put his head close to the ground and said loudly, “Now seeds, start growing!” Toad looked at the ground again. The seeds did not start to grow. Toad put his head very close to the ground and shouted, “NOW SEEDS, START GROWING!”
Frog came running up the path. “What is all this noise?” he asked. “My seeds will not grow,” said Toad. “You are shouting too much,” said Frog. “These poor seeds are afraid to grow.” “My seeds are afraid to grow?” asked Toad. “Of course,” said Frog. “Leave them alone for a few days. Let the sun shine on them, let the rain fall on them. Soon your seeds will start to grow.”
That night Toad looked out of his window. “Drat!” said Toad. “My seeds have not started to grow. They must be afraid of the dark.” Toad went out to his garden with some candles. “I will read the seeds a story,” said Toad. “Then they will not be afraid.” Toad read a long story to his seeds. All the next day Toad sang songs to his seeds. And all the next day Toad read poems to his seeds. And all the next day Toad played music to his seeds. Toad looked at the ground. The seeds still did not start to grow. “What shall I do?” cried Toad. “These must be the most frightened seeds in the whole world!”
Then Toad felt very tired, and he fell asleep.
“Toad, Toad, wake up,” said Frog. “Look at your garden!” Toad looked at his garden. Little green plants were coming up out of the ground. “At last,” shouted Toad, “my seeds have stopped being afraid to grow!” “And now you will have a nice garden too,” said Frog. “Yes,” said Toad, “but you were right, Frog. It was very hard work.”
What makes waiting so difficult? I think that basically it is the fact that so often we are not in control of a situation. For Toad, the growing process of the seeds was quite beyond his power to direct. As a child I could not control those bombs. As a grandmother I could not control the timing of my grandchild’s arrival. I wonder how the apostles coped as they waited? Were they impatient, like Toad? Were some of them angry? Were they frustrated because they were not in charge? We do not know the questions raised and the exchanges in that upper room.
In his commentary on “Acts,” William H. Willimon says that the apostles “... wait as those who are still dependent upon the Father’s faithfulness, those who have no control over the timetable of a beneficent God who graciously allows enough time to accomplish the work begun in Jesus.” The apostles could not imagine what or who the Holy Spirit was and when he, she, it, would arrive. One thing we do know is that they devoted themselves to prayer. This was not a time of idleness. They remained faithful and did what they were able to do, while not understanding what the outcome might be. “All these with one accord devoted themselves to prayer.”
This is the kind of community support that we can always engage in and generate regardless of impatience, anger, frustration, or a feeling of helplessness. Prayer is a mark of the Christian life - both individual and corporate prayer. As we proceed through this year’s liturgical period of waiting before the Feast of Pentecost let us determine to use the time for renewed and deepened prayer - for ourselves, for each other, and for the world around us. Let us look anew for the promise of the Father and open our hearts for the coming afresh of the Holy Spirit to equip us for the call to witness in God’s world. Let us always remember that God is the God of the unexpected. We cannot control God’s moves - as Jesus said to Nicodemus (John 3:8), “The wind blows where it will, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know whence it comes or whither it goes; so it is with every one who is born of the Spirit.” We can only be patient, pray, and wait for God to surprise us - as He always does.
Amen.
Friday, May 2, 2008
RCL - Ascension A - 01 May 2008
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Tony Cayless, AHC
RCL - Ascension Day A - Thursday 01 May 2008
Acts 1:1-11
Ephesians 1:15-23
Luke 24:44-53
In the Acts of the Apostles - our first reading - Luke refers to Jesus' last Resurrection appearance. It was in the Upper Room of John Mark's mother's house. There were about 120 persons gathered there and we read: when they had come together, they asked him, "Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?" He replied, "It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." Then he led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.
The period between Ascension and Pentecost is a period of waiting. Those men and women who had been attracted to Jesus, become followers of Jesus, been taught by Jesus, been eye witnesses of the Resurrection, were told to go into Jerusalem and wait, wait for the promise of the Father. The promise was the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost. They returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God.
This Feast reminds us that we still live between the times. The Ascension Event when the physical presence of Jesus the Christ was withdrawn is in the past. The parousia when the Lord will become present in power and with great glory is in the future. This between the times is the age of the Church.
When the Word became human the Word accepted all the limitations of human nature. The human Jesus was born, lived, ministered, died and rose again in a particular place and at a particular time in the history of this world. The Word made Flesh, the Incarnate Lord, like us was capable of being be in one place at one time only. The ascended Jesus can be present at all times and in all places.
After the Ascension Jesus in his resurrection body made no more appearances. The Incarnate Word of God had ended that phase of the mission. The reconciliation between God and humanity is accomplished by God putting God's self in our environment at the Incarnation, and by humanity being put in God's environment at the Ascension.
The Ascension is the taking of our human nature into that territory where never before were we allowed to go.
The kind of people that we human beings are is illustrated in the ancient and true myth of Adam and Eve. Because of their wrong choices they were cast out of paradise. Then we are told: God placed the cherubim, and a sword flaming and turning to guard the way to the tree of life. For Adam and Eve there was no going back to Eden.
For the rest of humankind there is no going back anywhere. We can never go back, but we can go forward and look forward to the time when St. John the Divine says the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Messiah, and he will reign forever and ever.
Our human nature is in heaven in the person of Jesus Christ. St. Augustine said "this festival confirms the grace of all the festivals of the church together, for without the Ascension, the reality of every festival would perish. Unless the savior had ascended into heaven, his nativity would have come to nothing and his passion would have born no fruit for us, and his most holy resurrection would have been worthless".
There is a story that when Jesus arrived back in Heaven the Archangel Gabriel asked him what plans he had made to ensure that God's mission would continue on earth. Jesus replied, "I have left my Church, The apostles Peter and James and John, Andrew, and seven others whom I appointed, and my Mother Mary, my friends Mary, Martha and Lazarus of Bethany, Cleopas, Mark, Bartimaeus, Johanna, Susanna, and about a 100 others. They have been commissioned to go out into all the world and make more disciples. They will carry out my mission". "But" said the Archangel, "But what if they should fail?" Jesus answered firmly: "I have made no other arrangements."
No other arrangements. Just the Church as it was then and just the Church as it is now. . . . . Including us! AMEN
COME LORD JESUS! Be known to us in the Breaking of the Bread.
Tony Cayless, AHC
RCL - Ascension Day A - Thursday 01 May 2008
Acts 1:1-11
Ephesians 1:15-23
Luke 24:44-53
In the Acts of the Apostles - our first reading - Luke refers to Jesus' last Resurrection appearance. It was in the Upper Room of John Mark's mother's house. There were about 120 persons gathered there and we read: when they had come together, they asked him, "Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?" He replied, "It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." Then he led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.
The period between Ascension and Pentecost is a period of waiting. Those men and women who had been attracted to Jesus, become followers of Jesus, been taught by Jesus, been eye witnesses of the Resurrection, were told to go into Jerusalem and wait, wait for the promise of the Father. The promise was the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost. They returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God.
This Feast reminds us that we still live between the times. The Ascension Event when the physical presence of Jesus the Christ was withdrawn is in the past. The parousia when the Lord will become present in power and with great glory is in the future. This between the times is the age of the Church.
When the Word became human the Word accepted all the limitations of human nature. The human Jesus was born, lived, ministered, died and rose again in a particular place and at a particular time in the history of this world. The Word made Flesh, the Incarnate Lord, like us was capable of being be in one place at one time only. The ascended Jesus can be present at all times and in all places.
After the Ascension Jesus in his resurrection body made no more appearances. The Incarnate Word of God had ended that phase of the mission. The reconciliation between God and humanity is accomplished by God putting God's self in our environment at the Incarnation, and by humanity being put in God's environment at the Ascension.
The Ascension is the taking of our human nature into that territory where never before were we allowed to go.
The kind of people that we human beings are is illustrated in the ancient and true myth of Adam and Eve. Because of their wrong choices they were cast out of paradise. Then we are told: God placed the cherubim, and a sword flaming and turning to guard the way to the tree of life. For Adam and Eve there was no going back to Eden.
For the rest of humankind there is no going back anywhere. We can never go back, but we can go forward and look forward to the time when St. John the Divine says the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Messiah, and he will reign forever and ever.
Our human nature is in heaven in the person of Jesus Christ. St. Augustine said "this festival confirms the grace of all the festivals of the church together, for without the Ascension, the reality of every festival would perish. Unless the savior had ascended into heaven, his nativity would have come to nothing and his passion would have born no fruit for us, and his most holy resurrection would have been worthless".
There is a story that when Jesus arrived back in Heaven the Archangel Gabriel asked him what plans he had made to ensure that God's mission would continue on earth. Jesus replied, "I have left my Church, The apostles Peter and James and John, Andrew, and seven others whom I appointed, and my Mother Mary, my friends Mary, Martha and Lazarus of Bethany, Cleopas, Mark, Bartimaeus, Johanna, Susanna, and about a 100 others. They have been commissioned to go out into all the world and make more disciples. They will carry out my mission". "But" said the Archangel, "But what if they should fail?" Jesus answered firmly: "I have made no other arrangements."
No other arrangements. Just the Church as it was then and just the Church as it is now. . . . . Including us! AMEN
COME LORD JESUS! Be known to us in the Breaking of the Bread.
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