Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Sunday, May 25, 2025
The Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 25, 2025
Sunday, May 5, 2024
Easter 6 B - May 5, 2024
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Click here for an audio of the sermon
Most people think of celibacy only in the negative. You’re giving up sexual contact with others. You’re giving up marriage and family. Or even worse—you’re suppressing this natural and beautiful part of your humanity. At the most superficial level, this understanding is accurate. You are giving up something—many somethings, in fact—when you live into a call to consecrated celibate chastity. But for those whom God truly calls to that life, celibacy is a doorway joy and depth and ever-expanding love.
The celibate life, lived with integrity, is not so different from a sacramental marriage. By limiting our expression of our sexuality, we allow God to expand our capacity to love and be loved. If it’s the life you’re called to—and that’s the key right there—you can fall in love with God in every person, every glint of sunlight off the water, every beat of the crow’s wing.
One of the greatest gifts of celibacy for me has been the discovery of the joys of true and deep friendship. When we speak of love and relationship, we are almost always talking about sexual or romantic connection. But deep, true, and abiding love flowers in many other fields, if we let it.
In this morning’s gospel reading—which my friend Suzanne calls lovey dovey Sunday—Jesus invites his disciples and us into a different kind of relationship with God than we are accustomed to. “You are my friends,” he tells them. Then he emphasizes that this move to friendship is a marked change in his relationship with them. “I do not call you servants any longer; […] but I have called you friends.”
This shift should shock us. At the very least, it should cause us to stop and wonder and question.
Throughout the synoptic gospels and in the earlier parts of John, Jesus offers many different images for the relationship with God. God is a forgiving father running into a field to meet us or a mother hen protecting her flock. Jesus is the bridegroom, the lover who pursues us, woos us, weds us. God is the master or lord challenging us to obedience, patience, and service. Jesus is the teacher opening the way to wisdom and self-abandonment. But here Jesus calls us his friends.
Until this moment, each relational image that Jesus uses is hierarchical. If God is our mother, we are children. If Jesus is our teacher, we are students. If God is our master, we are servants. Our tradition has used these same power-differentiated images of God almost exclusively. There is certainly a value and truth in these images. After all, we are not God. We are limited human creatures.
And yet this morning Jesus says to his disciples and to us, “I do not call you servants any longer, but I have called you my friends.” True friendship is not power-differentiated. True friendship is mutual, egalitarian, horizontal. Not only does Jesus tell us that this kind of mutual, equal relationship is available to us, but he tells that friendship—not parental love, not romantic love, not the loving bond of teacher and student—friendship is the truest and deepest love. “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” It is through friendship that we most fully know and love Jesus and that we fulfill his commandment to love one another.
The Rule of the Society of St. John the Evangelist has a beautiful chapter on the graces of friendship:
“For us no honor exists that could be greater than Jesus calling us his friends. The more we enter into the fullness of our friendship with him, the more he will move us to be friends for one another, and to cherish friendship itself as a means of grace. The forging of bonds between us that would make us ready to lay down our lives for one another is a powerful witness to the reality of our risen life in Christ. In an alienating world, where so many are frustrated and wounded in their quest for intimacy, we can bear life-giving testimony to the graces of friendship as men who know by experience its demands, its limitations and its rewards.”
Our world certainly is alienating. So many are frustrated and wounded in their quest for intimacy. So many are abused by parents and lovers and masters and teachers. Jesus offers those of us who have been so wounded a different way to know him and love him and one another: the way of friendship.
I believe one of the reasons we often have such an anemic understanding of friendship is that true friendship—with God and one another—requires total vulnerability. To share one’s soul with another can be frightening. It can and does open us to betrayal. Jesus knew this, of course. Still, he chose to call his disciples friends the same night that they would leave him, deny him, and hand him over. Still, he returned to them, laid himself bare for them again, and showed them the way of forgiveness and healing.
To lay down one’s life for one’s friends does only mean to accept physical death on their behalf. Mostly it means to be willing to lay oneself bare, to stand wide open to the possibility of betrayal and abandonment and to choose to love anyway. Cynthia Bourgeault writes that “self-emptying is at the same time self-disclosure.” To offer the gift of one’s true self and to accept another’s gift of self is what it means to abide in and with God and one another.
This is the way Jesus calls us to love him. This is the way Jesus calls us to love each other. Without power over, without manipulation, without hiding or shame. Freely. Vulnerably. Nakedly ourselves.
And because you know I have to say it: What a friend we have in Jesus! Amen.
Sunday, May 14, 2023
Easter 6 A - May 14, 2023
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
The last time I preached on Mother's Day, the long first reading from the Book of the Acts of the Apostles was about the Ethiopian eunuch. I later remarked to my sister about how improbable it was to have a reading about a eunuch on Mother's Day. She thought for a moment and said, “Well he had a mother too.” So do we all.
I’m relieved to say that the readings appointed for this Sunday are quite a bit more appropriate and indeed beautiful. But I'm not going to talk about the readings, at least not directly. Rather, I want to focus our attention on the collect, or prayer, with which we began our liturgy:
O God, you have prepared for those who love you such good things as surpass our understanding: pour into our hearts such love towards you that we, loving you in all things and above all things, may obtain your promises, which exceed all that we can desire; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Amen.
Whenever I offer this prayer, I think of a brief Friday morning reflection which the late Bishop Daniel Corrigan gave to the congregation at our monastery in Santa Barbara many years ago. He talked about the power of a few little words. If you were around in the Episcopal Church before about 1976 or so you would have heard this prayer from the 1928 version of The Book of Common Prayer where it was appointed for the 6th Sunday after Trinity. It was essentially the same prayer as we heard this morning except it said: “Pour into our hearts such love toward thee, that we, loving thee above all things, may obtain thy promises…” and so on. And this was good as far as it went. It was a reminder that we are called to love God above all things, to choose God above all things, as the royal road to fullness of life. But during the revision of the liturgies in the 1970s, three little words were added, or more accurately restored, to this prayer making it at once both richer and more relevant. And those words were: “in all things.” So that the prayer asks not simply that we love God above all things, which I hope we do, but that we love God in all things.
Think about this for a minute. Truthfully, I find it challenging to understand or grasp what loving God above all things means concretely. I suppose there are dramatic points in life where this is clearly presented, and an opportunity is offered for us to act on this aspiration or this demand. I think, for example, of the experience of martyrs or of people who are called to choose God's way of justice and love in the face of social or political opposition, ostracism or worse. For most of us, thank God, that's not a regular occurrence. But daily, perhaps hourly, we are each asked or invited or counseled to love God in all things…in ourselves, in others, in our societal relationships, and in the whole created order: in nature, in birds and animals, in sunrises and clouds, in rains and maybe even in earthquakes and floods and volcanos. And that is because our Christian faith teaches that all these are the creation of a good God and are themselves intrinsically good, marked by and stamped with God’s creative power and divine purpose. And this includes you and me, each one of us. No one of us exists outside of the web of this created order with all its facets of interdependence, fragility, and sacredness. Rather it and we coexist as one. It can’t be otherwise.
It's always good to be reminded of this fundamental truth, but especially on this Sixth Sunday of Easter which, besides being Mother's Day, is also traditionally known as Rogation Sunday. Beginning in the fifth century, this Sunday and the three days that follow it preceding the great feast of the Ascension (which we will observe on Thursday) have been devoted to the blessing of crops and fields and of nature generally. In medieval Europe, and still in living memory, there were on these days processions through the fields and farms asking God to bless and provide food for the earth, for us and for all creatures. These processions also served a social purpose. In England they were known as “beating the bounds.” The procession would go to the farthest corners of the territorial parish so that people who did not have easy access to maps would know where property and authority started and ended. Today really is the Church’s Earth Day when we are invited once again to recognize, acknowledge, and celebrate the whole created order in which we are but a part, albeit a central and increasingly destructive part. For the threat of ecological disaster is very real, and in the face of our reluctance to confront this threat, we are brought up short by this Rogationtide.
Over the last quarter century there has been much written about the relationship of religion and ecology, and specifically Christianity and ecology. They are worth studying. But you would do well, if you have the time and energy, to read Pope Francis’ 2015 encyclical letter Praise Be to You (Laudato Si’) subtitled “On Care for Our Common Home.” It is a brave, compelling summons to reflection and action on the part not only of Christians but of all the peoples of the earth in the face of ecological degradation and climate change…though I must admit that it's a bit of a slow read at times. I was particularly drawn to Chapter Two of this encyclical letter on the Gospel of Creation which sets out a theological framework for climate care. The Catholic Climate Covenant summarizes this chapter with the following bullet points:
· God created everything with intrinsic goodness.
· Humans are uniquely created and called to exercise responsible stewardship over creation on behalf of the loving Creator.
· All creation is a mystery the diversity and unity of which both reflect and mediate the Creator.
· The right to private property is not “absolute or inviolable” but “subordinat[ed]…to the universal destination of goods."
· “[The] destiny of all creation is bound up with the mystery of Christ.”
Pope Francis stresses that God's command for humans to have dominion over creation expressed in Genesis 1:28 is not exploitative license but rather, as he puts it, a vocation to cultivate and care for God's good gift of creation.
There is much else in this letter that bears mention. He critiques ‘anthropocentrism’ and the prevailing technocratic paradigm which encourages an unreflective acceptance of every technological advance based more on profit than on its effects on human flourishing. He reminds us that while creation manifests God and may be a privileged space for encountering God, it is not itself God and it is a mistake to divinize or worship the earth and its creatures. And true to his Jesuit tradition, Francis affirms a preferential option for the poor who are most harmed by ecological degradation. He urges both public policy change as well as an individual change of heart, expressed in our willing adoption of a lifestyle driven not by “extreme consumerism” but by a vision of a simpler lifestyle where less is more. And all of this is in service of what the Pope calls ‘integral ecology,’ seeing the whole interconnected picture through, as it were, the eyes of the One who is creator and sustainer of it all.
This Rogation Sunday, this Earth Day, is an opportunity for us to take stock. Look around and give thanks for God’s creation. And as we do that, may we in our own way commit or re-commit ourselves to the cultivation of our common human vocation of caring for the earth and each other that is at the very heart of our Christian faith. It is the very best gift that we, nurturers nurtured by our Mother Earth, can give to the generations to come. Maybe it’s the best Mother’s Day gift ever.
Sunday, May 22, 2022
Easter 6 C - May 22, 2022
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Sunday, May 9, 2021
Easter 6 B - May 9, 2021
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Luc Thuku, OHC
Sunday, May 17, 2020
The Sixth Sunday of Easter - May 17, 2020
Br. John Forbis, OHC
The Sixth Sunday of Easter - May 17, 2020
Acts 17:22-31
1 Peter 3:13-22
John 14:15-21
Click here for an audio version of this sermon.
Oh no, he said it! He really said it! How many times in my growing up and even into adulthood have I heard these words: “If you love me, you would do what I want?!?!” For me, punishment is almost easier to swallow than such a manipulation. But is Jesus really saying the same thing, with the same coercion? Well … yes and no.
First of all, to get technical, there is a subtle change in verb tenses here. Jesus says, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” And later in this passage he comes full circle to say, “Those who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me.” Yes, he expects his disciples to back up their declaration of love with action, but he uses the future tense, not the conditional. He makes this statement almost as a foregone conclusion; a fact, or a promise.
What if Jesus’ promise of having and keeping his commandments is less about “toeing the line” as a burden and more about devoting one’s attention and energy toward them? Jesus’ commandments are so much more than commands.
Toeing the line is a product of a very different mindset. In a world of “if you love me, you would do what I want,” where someone has to be guilty, everyone is the accused and accuser. Satan is judge, and we’re all condemned.
Jesus doesn’t want victims or accusers, but followers, followers who freely and actively participate in and commit to Jesus’ commandments, to enter into God’s heart. There’s no expectation that we have to toe the line as if to earn God’s love or prove our love for God. Perhaps that’s the kind of “unknown god” to which the Athenians built a shrine and whom we worship so easily, groping for perfection, our idol of gold, silver or stone. God’s love is unconditional. We put conditions on love.
God does not need to live in our shrines made by human hands. All God needs is to give – “to all mortals life and breath and all things” and most of all His living Grace. If we have to have proof of this, we only need to look to Jesus, his life and ministry and his Commandments, which are all summarized in one commandment: To love one another as Christ loves us. He’s asking us to commit to a new Creation in which love is the driving agent, not power or domination. This Creation is abundant life, immersed in loving God because God first loved us. The God in whom we live, move and have our being is the source of our love. This love is God’s gift to us.
Leave it to me to fixate on the opening sentence and hear it as Jesus is sending me on a guilt trip. Maybe I hear it that way because it distracts me from the responsibility and challenge of love. I’m engaged where I fail, not who I can and am called to be. It’s easier to feel I am either a convicted criminal or an accuser.
As we learned last week, the disciples are listening to this man whom God has appointed and not really understanding a word he’s saying. Thomas needs to know the way to where Jesus is going. Jesus points to himself. Philip needs to see the Father. Again, Jesus responds, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip and you still don’t know the Father?”
When Jesus is arrested later that night, one disciple betrays him, another denies him three times and the rest scatter. So Jesus’ promise hardly seems possible, that they will keep his commandments.
But, Jesus talks about another Advocate, which suggests that he is the first Advocate. This man who will judge the world in righteousness is also a Defense Attorney. He judges by defending others, but not himself. His silence at his trial frustrates and baffles Pilate to the point where all he can do to make peace is to turn him over to the crowds who crucify this innocent victim. This Judge, Defense Attorney becomes the accused so that the world order of accuser and accused is rendered indefensible. His death on the Cross is the defense for us when we’re put on trial and against us when we put others on trial. This is Christ’s courtroom. He can do anything he wants here. He is judge and the defense. In this courtroom, mercy prevails.
Then, he offers more promises. He will ask the Father, and the Father will give you another Advocate. A defense lawyer even when we’ve fallen short of Jesus’ commandments to love one another as he has loved us. We’re neither accuser nor accused. We are just an unknown God’s offspring, a God who loves us, whom we search for and perhaps grope for him and find him.
How do we find him? The Second Advocate, the Spirit of Truth, that the world doesn’t know or see and can’t receive. We know him. “He abides with you and he will be in you.” We have the Spirit with us right now before as well as after Pentecost. This Spirit shows God “who is not far from each one of us”, even now in our isolation, fear and confusion.
With the Spirit of Truth with us and in us, we are not left orphaned. We see Jesus. Jesus is alive. He still even now enters through our locked doors, our lockdown. We are in union with God. “I am in my Father, and you in me and I in you.” All the promises are assured because of this fusion. Jesus is raised from the dead. Truth does not end with death.
Another promise is that we will know this. Thus, we can be assured of the first promise: If you love me, you will keep my commandments … Those who love me will keep my commandments, and those who love me will be loved by my Father, I will love them and reveal myself to them.” Being alive in Christ, how could we not keep Jesus’ commandments? We know from where they come. We know to where they go. Besides, the Spirit of Truth, the Defense Attorney, can teach us how to be Defense Attorneys to each other when we fall short of loving as Jesus loves.
Tuesday, June 4, 2019
Sixth Sunday of Easter - Sunday, May 26, 2019
Sixth Sunday of Easter - Sunday, May 26, 2019
Acts 16:9-15
Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5
John 14:23-29
Click here for an audio version of the sermon.
Sunday, May 6, 2018
Sixth Sunday of Easter- Year B: May 6, 2018
To hear the sermon in its fullness click here.
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Br. John Forbis, OHC |
They are often only outbursts … about inanimate objects and events. When it comes to people, I’ve experienced and have expressed the extraordinary guileless passion for and from another. That reciprocation has been particularly poignant for me in my life here in this community.
My brothers have influenced and prepared me a great deal to preach on this Gospel today. However, at other times, I have occasionally used the word begrudgingly or to manipulate and hurt others.
Love can so easily be bought for a price. And that cost can be very expensive, costing us our mental and physical health, our integrity and even our souls. For example, Americans throughout the last two and a half centuries have professed their love of country. But what that can look like is injustice and inequality supported and even enhanced by a system of selfish greed, racism, hatred and violence. It can insist on the right to brandish weapons of mass destruction turning our schools, our churches, our streets and diplomacy into war zones. This kind of love for country develops at the expense of its own people, even life itself in all its forms, embattled by vicious attacks from eroding environmental regulation and legislation. This devotion is confused with an idolatry of power and dominance. Life’s price then is cut drastically.
We each might claim that we love our neighbor. But that’s just it. Love can so often be a claim, an utterance only or a claim on another or the world we think we own. In contrast, Jesus uses the word sparingly because to him, love is costly as well and inestimable. The love he proposes makes no claims. He gives up all pretensions to lording over us all, as Paul so eloquently articulates, “Christ Jesus, who though, he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God to be exploited but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness.” And in human likeness, he lived as those who were marginalized by societal love, died by the violence of that deception and rose by the devotion he had to his equal, overflowing to us through the Holy Spirit and to which he commands to us to show each other within this extraordinary mystery.
It gives away as he gave away his own self. Jesus raises us up from being servants, even slaves to the intimacy of being his friends. Jesus lays down his life for his friends. Augustine depicts this humility and elevation beautifully, “You have made us and drawn us to yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.”
Jesus has taught us everything he learned from God. We know already deep within us all we need to know whether we choose to or not. And it really does come down to choice. Jesus made his choice. His choice becomes explicit by his life journey to Golgotha on the Cross. He travelled this road with a singular will more fierce than any will or desire that greed, violence and hatred can possibly tame.
Jesus’ other choice is God, and in many ways, Jesus’ heart is restless until he rests in God. That longing for God is no secret to his disciples. His intimate relationship with his Father can’t but pour out in water and blood upon us. This laying down of his life for us is a consequence of God loving us. It is the ultimate consequence of the Incarnation or is it? Well … yes and no.
Jesus says on the Cross, “It is finished.” Yet, it has only just begun. Jesus rises in a passion that defies any other claims of and on love that excludes, disempowers and inflicts great suffering. As we gape dumbfounded, at this unimaginable vision, we are not only invited but commanded to love and be loved in the truth and freedom of being Jesus’ friend and God’s beloved. He must know that we are capable of such a commitment to him and each other, otherwise he wouldn’t call us to this revolution. For this Jesus chose us.
Sunday, May 1, 2016
Easter 6 C - May 1, 2016
Br. Roy Parker, OHC
Easter 6 C - Sunday, May 1, 2016
Our Br. Roy read this poem as his meditation on today's gospel (John 14:23-29).
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The Trinity as per A.Rublev |
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Easter 6 B - May 10, 2015
Br. Bernard Jean Delcourt, OHC
Easter 6 B – Sunday, May , 2015
Acts 10:44-48
1 John 5:1-6
John 15:9-17
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Abide in my love. |
The farewell discourse encapsulates Jesus’ teaching and instructions to the disciples prior to his passion. And the central message of the farewell discourse comes in our passage of today. The central message that Jesus imparts on the disciples and on us is to love one another as Jesus loves, as God loves.
*****
But first, Jesus invites us to abide in him as he himself abides in God the source of all existence. To abide is to live somewhere, to remain, to persevere, to have stability. The disciples are invited to become permanent residents in living out God’s love, in living out God’s commandment.
This is a continuation of last week’s metaphor of Jesus being the true vine and us being its fruitful produce if we let God prepare us for it.
Jesus invites us to share and taste his joy; the joy he finds in being in relationship with God. Jesus wants our joy to be complete as a result of right relationship with God, as a result of loving God and obeying God’s commandments. This is not a soppy and sugar-coated kind of joy. Jesus models this joy for the apostles on an evening when he fully expects to be betrayed into his passion. And yet, the joy of loving relationship endures, even beyond death.
*****
But what does it mean in our day to day lives to love God actually rather than in devout pronouncements. In order to be in right relationship with God, we need to be in right relationship with one another. And that means loving our neighbor without condition and without limit.
This love is not slavish servility nor bossy care-taking. In our text today, the Greek work is agape which is a love which desires and prefers what is good for the other, for the community of those who share meals together.
Jesus even points out that the ultimate agape love of our neighbor could involve giving our lives for our neighbor.
Now most of us aren’t in a situation where our neighbors need our life to be offered up to love them. Instead, most of us are confronted with the day to day nitty-gritty of doing what we can to make our neighbor and the planet’s life a little better.
Often this doesn’t require heroics but a consistent attitude of seeking the greater good for all involved, not just for number one. But persistence and stability in this endeavor of bettering life for individual others and for all creation is a noble form of giving our life for our neighbor.
In loving others that way, we put God first in our lives in everyday words and actions. And when we do this, we are in right relationship with God, we love God as Jesus asks us to.
*****
But do not be mistaken. Jesus chose you to do this loving on earth, in your life, now. You may have responded to his invitation, but God chose you and loved you first when you were still being formed into this existence. Your loving is God’s loving. It is your abiding in God’s love that enables you to respond in love to God and thus to your neighbor.
You have the choice to respond to Love or not, but Love brought its embrace to you. It is not what you achieved, achieve or will achieve that made you deserving of love. Your mere existence as a child of God ensures you are bathed in the love of God.
And in telling us how to love God in our neighbors, Jesus establishes the new covenant; a covenant of friends not that of a master and his slaves. Our NRSV translations uses servants but the Greek word doulos means slave.
In our old covenant, we were expected to obey the 613 commandments of the Law in awe of God. In our new covenant, we are given a summary of Love’s law that we are expected to embrace for love of God. We are to love as friends, because we empathize with God our friend, our beloved parent, and we want to requite God’s love.
In Jesus, we are shown what it means to live into God’s love. And as friends, Jesus expects us to enthusiastically join in his love of God. Jesus’ love has established a new relationship with God. If we abide in Jesus’ commandment and love God as we love one another, we abide in God’s love.
*****
In his farewell discourse, Jesus is showing us that God is relationship and love. The christian doctrine of the Triune God presents us with three persons who love one another into singleness. And through the humanity of Jesus we got to have that love modeled in our human experience of existence. Because we abide in Jesus’ love, we abide in the love of the triune God.
*****
This week, this community got to hear another farewell discourse. It was the discourse of love as out-poured on our departed brother Andrew and on this community he chose to love. Family, friends, brothers loved Andrew in his departure from this life and hundreds conveyed their love to us through e-mail, texts and social networks comments.
It was a striking demonstration of how God’s love had been at work in Andrew’s life and our own. Let us remember to continue to love one another into God’s love within these walls and far, far beyond them.
Thank you, Andrew, for another great lesson in love.
May you rest in peace and may light perpetual shine upon you and that Celtic harp you’re strumming for heaven’s denizens.
Amen.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Easter 6 A - May 25, 2014
1 Peter 3:13-22
John 14:15-21
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Rogation Days Procession |
O God, you have prepared for those who love you such good things as surpass our understanding: Pour into our hearts such love towards you, that we, loving you in all things and above all things, may obtain your promises, which exceed all that we can desire; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
We give you thanks, most gracious God, for the beauty ofearth and sky and sea; for the richness of mountains, plains,and rivers; for the songs of birds and the loveliness of flowers.We praise you for these good gifts, and pray that we maysafeguard them for our posterity. Grant that we may continueto grow in our grateful enjoyment of your abundant creation,to the honor and glory of your Name, now and for ever. Amen. (Book of Common Prayer, p. 840)