St Michael and All Angels - Sep 30, 2014

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br.Robert James Magliula, OHC
St. Michael and All Angels, transferred to September 30, 2014

Genesis 28:10-17
Revelation 12:7-12
John 1:47-51

St Michael Archangel defeating Satan

As human beings, we really need this strange festival of angels and archangels. It’s a reminder of how crucial it is for us to be able to use our imaginations. We need our imagination, especially in our tendency to believe only in the tangible. When our religion is material, unbounded faith in human progress and in our own accomplishments, it is faith without imagination. It was imagination alone that enabled Nathaniel to recognize Jesus as “Son of God” and “King of Israel” when he had no other evidence than his imaginings of a Messiah.

In the same way, the author of Revelation draws a vivid picture of something that cannot be seen by the eye, but only in the imagination of mind and heart. Living in a time of terrible persecution and turmoil, the vision of victory for God, the belief that God is winning despite all the losses piling up at hand, sustains the author and his community. It gives meaning to a difficult life. The attempt to believe in God’s triumph was what made the story of Michael and All Angels.

In the story from Genesis, Jacob, a fugitive, falls asleep in his flight. His anxiety and concern don’t rest, but rise from his subconscious in a dream. He sees an image of angels and knows that God has reached him, found him, touched him. He knows that God is not confined and that no matter how far his flight, nor how long, he will never be far from God, nor God from him.

A few of decades ago, in a time that felt for many not unlike that described by the author of Revelation, Tony Kushner set out to dramatize the terror and agony of AIDS that robbed so many of us of those we loved. He found that it was impossible to do so without allowing human suffering a dimension beyond itself and beyond time and space. Only by going beyond the tangible could meaning be found for such suffering. In Angels in America he forced open our imaginations by making Western art return to its ancient roots in Greek tragedy where whatever happened on stage had a meaning beyond itself. There the voices of the chorus sang as the voices of the gods, or the gods themselves walked the higher reaches of the stage.

For so many of us at that time, it opened a door to deeper meaning and the finding of an inner strength to endure. As with Jacob one felt God’s presence despite the anxiety and fear. As with those early Christians, one glimpsed God’s victory, despite the losses.

In our day we need to see angels take their place among us, bringing back dimension and depth to our living and dying, our loves and betrayals, our breaking hearts and vulnerable bodies. We need to own the realization that in Christ we are bearing the mystery of the suffering of humanity, it’s sad woundedness, but we are also bearing the very glory of God---and even sharing in the divine nature.
We are a living paradox of divine and human just as Jesus was.

The Eucharist is the ongoing celebration of the Cross and Resurrection---not one but both”. When we eat it, we eat the good and bad, dark and light, suffering and ecstasy. With Jesus we find the power to hold the pain of life until it transforms us. It is too much to think or understand with the mind alone.
We can only eat it until the very eating of it changes us into Christ.

Since angels come primarily to guide or to warn us, we would also do well on this feast to ask ourselves about the times in our lives when we have been guided or protected---often from our worst selves. When we remember, then we need to recall the people we encountered at those times, realizing in them we were encountering angels as well. Their wings and their glory were hidden, their voices were familiar and they spoke of everyday things. Yet when we remember such times and such people, we realize how much we have been guarded, protected, and guided, most often when we were completely unaware.

Scripture is full of all sorts of people who recognized these encounters as meetings with these ministers of grace. In the comings and goings of our daily lives, may our ears be open to the beating of wings, both visible and invisible.  +Amen.

Proper 21 A - Sep 28, 2014

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Peter Rostron, OHC
Proper 21 A, Sunday, September 28, 2014

Exodus 17:1-7
Philippians 2:1-13
Matthew 21:23-32

Rublev's Trinity

What do I believe? Well, I believe that this building will remain standing today. I believe that the bank will safeguard the monastery’s money. And I believe that my brothers would care for me if I became ill. I maintain these beliefs because I willingly put my trust in others. Construction workers, the town’s building codes and inspectors, the bank, and the prior of this monastery all have my trust, which means they also have some degree of power or control over me by virtue of their control of things that are important to my well-being, such as money, health care, shelter, and safety. Having power or control means having authority. There are, in fact, a great many people, institutions, and systems that have authority over us because they have our trust, because we believe they will be there for us and will ensure our well-being. Some of them, like the examples I gave, are readily apparent, while others exert very subtle power and control: advertisements, movies and television shows, news stories, peer behavior, family expectations. We all live within a great landscape of beliefs and authorities, most of which we have freely chosen or have willingly given our trust.

This leads us, then, to the question: Where does God fit into this landscape of beliefs and authority? We are Christians because we believe that Jesus was God incarnate, fully possessing God’s authority on earth. The chief priests and elders did not share that belief. In today’s gospel reading, they challenged Jesus’s authority, and he brilliantly turned that challenge back on them. Although they could not come up with an answer, they were, unknowingly, submitting to God’s authority in Jesus simply by accepting the challenge and attempting to respond. Furthermore, in their state of unbelief, they felt their own power and authority being threatened, and they lived in fear of those people who did believe in Jesus and in his forerunner, John the Baptist. The gospel passage ends with Jesus pointing out to the chief priests and elders that their unbelief would put them last in line behind the tax collectors and the prostitutes. He makes it clear that, even though God, in John the Baptist and in Jesus, is in fact their ultimate authority, their choice whether to believe that or not matters greatly in their lives, and our choice matters just as much.

So, Jesus is challenging us: What do you believe? Do you fully believe that God is your ultimate authority? It is easy to say the words, I believe, but what does that really mean? Do we really live our lives as if that is the case? Jesus’s parable about the father and his two sons makes the point that beliefs are expressed more through actions than words. So, perhaps What do I believe? might better be translated into What do I do? Do I volunteer to serve the poor at my church or in my neighborhood? Am I enticed by the latest advertising to spend too much money on the latest gadget or fashion? Do I write letters or attend rallies or make phone calls or convince my friends to push for greater social and economic and environmental justice? Do I spend time other than Sundays reading the Bible or other spiritual works and in prayer? Am I careful to always recycle and turn off the lights when leaving a room and consolidate errands into one trip? Do I treat others, even strangers, with genuine kindness and patience? 

Answering these kinds of questions can give us a window into our beliefs. We may not entirely like what we see, but we are, after all, imperfect, and God knows this. God calls us back to him again and again in mercy and forgiveness, knowing that we will never get there until our last day. But in the striving, we will strengthen our belief. So we should remember to be gentle on ourselves, but also to keep moving toward God, aiming to give God full authority in our lives and to make our actions truer reflections of our belief in God. For us to know God’s mercy and his will for us, though, we must listen closely for God’s voice.

I keep in my choir stall this small icon of Rublev’s Trinity. I’ll leave it up here afterward in case you want a better look. It depicts the three angels who visited Abraham and told him that Sarah would bear a son. That icon is also often interpreted as a representation of the Holy Trinity: the Son seated in the center with the Father and the Holy Spirit on either side. As I sat in my stall during my first profession of the monastic vow in July, the angels spoke to me. They told me how glad they were that I was finally taking a seat at the table with them. I had been standing by the table for quite awhile, but now I was choosing to place myself firmly in their company, more fully ready to listen to and interact with them. This astonished me, and I interpret it is a reflection to me of the state of my beliefs. It deepened my belief that God loves me, that God invites me to sit with him, and that he wants me to be an agent of his love in the world. I’m still working out exactly what that means, but God’s call has already led me to this monastery, as it is now leading me to pursue a course of study, starting in just a few days in fact, that I hope will enable me to work as a chaplain in a hospital or hospice.

Abraham turned from the chores that undoubtedly kept him busy in the camp in order to offer hospitality to three strangers. He listened to God in those three strangers, and he believed and acted. Moses turned from his path to pay attention to a bush ablaze with light. That was the beginning of an amazing, ongoing relationship, and we heard in our first reading today one example of Moses listening to God, believing, and then acting. Jesus listened to God in profound prayer and, as we heard today so eloquently expressed in Paul’s letter to the Philippians, in extreme humility, and he believed and acted. You and I, of course, are present-day, ordinary humans. We are not Abraham or Moses or Jesus, so perhaps we can be satisfied with setting our sights a little bit lower than theirs. But we can certainly use them as inspirations for what it means to listen to God’s word, to believe in the presence of God within us, and to act in accordance with God’s will for us.

So that is it, boiled down into three words: Listen, believe, and act. That is Jesus’s challenge to us, and in doing so we will enable God’s authority to bear fruit in our lives. There are angels and burning bushes all around, we need only choose to turn and listen. That requires that we pay attention to what is truly important. The angels and burning bushes aren’t always the loudest or brightest things around us. There are many voices competing for our attention, so we must filter out and silence those that lead us to what might be called false beliefs, in order to focus on the still, small voice of God. So take care, then, where and in whom you place your trust. Be intentional in whom and in what you give authority in your life. Be aware of the power of the words you use, but know that your actions are the greater reflection of your beliefs. Listen, believe, and act with God as the ultimate authority in your life.

Holy Cross Day - Sep 14, 2014

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Randy Greve, OHC
Holy Cross Day – Sunday 14 September 2014

Isaiah 45:21-25 
Philippians 2:5-11 
John 12:31-36a

St Helena and the exaltation of the Holy Cross
detail from the icon cross in the monastery church

The Collect for this day, the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, is, as we have already heard, particularly beautiful and evocative.  It is worth repeating:  “Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ was lifted high upon the cross that he might draw the whole world to himself: Mercifully grant that we, who glory in the mystery of our redemption, may have grace to take up our cross and follow him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen” Every Collect contains the same basic structure: an address to God that includes an attribute or action of God, a request to be granted the grace and power to live lives that embrace and reflect God’s presence and action, and the Trinitarian conclusion which reminds us of the essential truth that the God to whom and in whose name we pray is one God in three Persons.  Collects are a concentrated declaration of the Christian life in the context of the day or season and so are a summons to celebrate and resolve.  For Holy Cross Day our celebration is to glory in the mystery of our redemption.  Our resolve is to renew our commitment to take up our cross and follow Christ. 

For some idea of what this means we look to the readings from Holy Scripture.  Each of the Scripture lessons for Holy Cross Day reflect a similar structure of celebration and resolve, pointing toward the mystery and wonder of Jesus’ death on the cross and our call to follow him.  In Isaiah, God’s righteousness ultimately triumphs over all evil and injustice, ushering in a universal acknowledgement of God’s glory.  In the light of this promise we recognize the sovereign nature of God. In the letter to the Philippians, Jesus is the ultimate model of self-giving love and humility and now risen and ascended is the one to whom all shall one day bend the knee.  In the Gospel of John, Jesus speaks of his cross as his glory, the act that conquers evil, atones for sin, trampling down death by death - and the event and sign that draws all the world to him.  But don’t we cover all of this on Good Friday?  Why another day, stuck in the middle of September, to recall Christ’s death on the cross?

A bit of background:  the official story of the origin of this feast is basically this:  in the fourth century, St. Helena, mother of Roman Emperor Constantine, who had legalized Christianity, led an expeditionary pilgrimage from Rome to Jerusalem.  While digging through a pile of debris in the area thought to be the original hill of Calvary, they found a cross, which they believed to be the true cross of Jesus.  On the site the first version of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher was built, later to be replaced by the building which now encases what are believed to be the actual places of both Jesus’ crucifixion and, at the other end of the church, his resurrection.  The dedication of the first building took place on September 14, 335 and became the date of Holy Cross Day at that time.

Beneath the official story lies a universal story that connects St. Helena, the Collect, and the Scripture lessons to us today.  St Helena, even if she was not aware of it at the time, was not principally interested in preserving history, although that is there.  She was seeking to encounter the sacred.  She was living out an impulse that lives in every human heart to some degree – placed there by God - to meet the divine through the physical world – whether in an object, a place, a building, or something that evokes and recalls an event in a beautiful and inviting way.  Because we are physical beings with senses of sight, taste, touch, smell, and hearing, we employ all our senses in our search for God and worship of God.  The same desire that drew Helena across all those miles of travel has also inspired countless artists and architects to create icons, paintings, stained glass, statues, and buildings that seek to express the divine, to draw the human experience into contact with God.  To this day millions of Christians continue to visit holy sites, venerate relics, and use art that recalls these places and events in worship.  We are following in St Helena’s footsteps in a quest to find ways to have a point of contact with symbols that point beyond themselves.  

We glory in the mystery of our redemption best in space that enhances that intention.  In a culture which is more and more addicted to the quick, the disposable, and the shallow, sacred places like this chapel, places adorned with visual reminders of the presence of God, help us to get in touch with the transcendent and ultimate.  To be still and quiet, to listen and pray, to hear Scripture and sing – these are the acts that begin to define the Collect’s language of glorying in the mystery of our redemption.  
The art in this chapel is here for just that purpose.  All of the symbols mean something beyond themselves, point to a reality that invites our participation, our glorying in the mystery.  Icons, candles, stained glass, incense, water, an altar, bread and wine - are not decorations for worship that happens within me, they are all involved in the human response to God.  Worship is not the escape from the physical signs as if we need to enter some kind of non-material realm in order to engage God.  No, worship utilizes our senses to point our attention toward God among and within us.

On this day especially, we are drawn toward the crosses in this chapel.  The crucifix evokes the historical event of the execution of Jesus of Nazareth.  Nails, the crown of thorns, the very human flesh and bone – an artistic representation of a real man nailed to a real cross. The icon cross behind the altar, written by John Walsted in the early 1970s, is also a scene of Jesus on the cross, but inhabits a different time and space.  There is blood flowing from hands and feet, but no nails, no crown of thorns.  This Jesus is not so much fastened to the cross as suspended in front of it, echoing it – already risen and ascended.  He is very much alive, serene, gazing down on us with compassion. 

This style of icon cross is designed specifically to be hung behind an altar because of the obvious Eucharistic symbolism.  This is Christ present with us today in His Body and Blood in the Holy Eucharist.  And if you look closely at the scenes surrounding Christ, you will find, in the lower right, good old St Helena and the event of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.  So the crosses become a kind of circle, each pointing to the other, each speaking of celebration and resolve rooted in history and living within us and among us now.  We need both crosses for the spiritual journey.  A faith grounded in revelation – in the life of Christ, in Scripture, in Creed and Council.  A faith enlivened and inspired by the glory of the mystery of Christ’s living presence among us.  We act out this journey as we move from the liturgy of the word to the liturgy of the Table – hearing the story of Christ and then encountering his living presence.

So as we have heard in prayers and scriptures and seen in the symbols of Christian art and worship, remembering and doing flow into one another.  It is in receiving Christ in history and in his Church that we are then fed and inspired to take up our cross and follow him.  Living out Christ’s life among and within us, in the shape of the cross, in the shape of continual humility and self-giving love turns us into living Collects and transforms us into signs of celebration and resolve. Amen.