Sunday, October 13, 2024

The Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost B - October 13, 2024

 Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY

Br. Randy Greve
The Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 23 B, October 13, 2024



“Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.”

Christ has come to inaugurate the way of life, which he calls the kingdom of God or the kingdom of heaven. He inaugurates through power.  His power is the power of love. He expresses love in the way he invites and liberates; in his surrendering and suffering love.  He does not inaugurate by domination and never uses power over to impose, coerce, or control.  The way of life comes in freedom, or it does not come at all.  His freedom in inviting meets our freedom in responding. Each of us chooses to enter or we do not enter at all.  He calls forth the desire in every human heart for meaning, hope, community, purpose, and promise and reveals that this very desire has its source and end in God.  Being created by God and for God, we discover our true identity, our true home in responding to the invitation to follow the way of life and receive the gift of life, real life.  We bear the divine image and no substitute identity will ever satisfy.  Jesus appeals to our goodness, enlivens our longings, and illuminates the obstacles within and around us on the path to life. The gates are always open to any who will hear the call to repent, be liberated, be unburdened from the weight of attachment to the transitory and the temporal, and come. 

 Christ welcomes so-called “sinners” into the way of life.  In the gospels, they almost always know their need, seek him out.  Many in the out groups seek out Jesus, touch him, call to him, cry to him, interrupt him, get in his way as they discover in him the power to restore their dignity and their hope.  He relieves their pain, reconciles them from their status as outcasts, as unclean and sends them joyfully back into community and connection. For those of us who in some way or at some time have been outsiders or the victims of prejudice and judgment and met by a Christ who loved and accepted us, we know that the power that brought life to the lepers and demon possessed, the prostitutes and tax collectors, can and does bring power today in the hearts of so many who experience harm.

The gospels also include another kind of conversion story.  The so-called “insiders” are invited into the way of life as well.  In the religious culture of Jesus’ day, the religious elites, the rich, those with positions of power thought of themselves and were believed to be blessed by God - they had arrived into the realm of the “converted” because they were not “sinners” or “unclean”.  These are often, but not always, those who are scandalized, confused, or, because he represents a threat, oppose Jesus.  For Jesus, “no” is an answer. Today’s gospel is a story from this second group.  This man sees the world through the lens of his status and wealth. Eternal life is a possession like all my other possessions and I can obtain it like I have obtained all my other possessions - by some act, or price, some access to improving my insider status.  He is not in need of the same kind of compassionate, healing touch that the leper or demon-possessed need. His pain is more in his heart than on his skin.  His isolation is more spiritual than social.  His sense of emptiness hidden and buried under the illusions that his possessions can satisfy.  Yet, even if the awareness is only a glimmer, the ache of dissatisfaction only a faint echo that appears in the silence of the night, he still desires real life.  The desire is inescapable, relentless, haunting the edges of his storehouses and treasure chests, refusing to leave him alone.  He is in need. He has money. He will satisfy his need like he has satisfied every other need. Jesus surprises him. Jesus’ response is about to send him away in shock and grief.  

Entrance to life costs.  The kingdom exacts a price.  In our myriad delusions about our identities and our own programs for individual happiness, we keep ourselves outside, resist life.  We may believe we desire life, but not act in ways that lead to life.  Jesus presents no utopian vision of instant bliss. The way to the kingdom is a narrow, difficult, and winding way.  We may seek to avoid the difficulty and search for an easy road, for cheap grace. We may desire entry through power or status, money or education.  We may rely on seeking moral goodness or conformity to social norms of purity for special access.  These are dead ends that seduce us into believing we have capacities we do not actually have, means to negotiate what we want at a sale price.  But Christ in his grace brokers no shortcuts, no exceptions, no earning or deserving our way in by what we have or do.  The way to life is not a philosophy, an ethic, or the accumulation of good deeds. It is surrender, emptying, death and resurrection. Whatever I bring with me to the entrance to life to get me in are the very things I must leave in order to be made ready for entrance.  Entry is a continual process.  I am always only beginning to enter the kingdom - never arriving, never possessing its fullness in this age.  Therefore the way to life is a scandal, a crisis, and a gift. The crisis is to surrender whatever appears as essential to meaning in order to receive the true gift which is the actual fulfillment of meaning.  We are all too eager to fixate on the instant, the easy. Jesus warns that these are illusions which in fact are obstacles to the most valuable way of being, obstacles to real life.

As modern listeners the temptation is often to hear the text in order to get an answer or to follow an instruction - bridge the meaning into our world by reducing the story into mere moralisms, yet more performing and achieving and being good. Such a response misses the deeper truth.  Life is discovered not in having, but in belonging. And we cannot be attached to anything and receive the gift of belonging at the same time.  Jesus says, “It is you I want for myself, not anything you may accomplish. I will not rest until all of you is enlivened by love and grace and you abide in the fullness of your glory as beloved sons and daughters made in God’s image.” We enter life by allowing the burning away of all that cannot enter, until we walk through with empty hands, claiming no rights, hiding nothing.  It is precisely by owning up to and inhabiting our void that we are offering ourselves up to God’s mercy. The invitation to this man and to us is what Eugene Peterson calls a centered, submissive way of life.  He writes,

“Americans in general have little tolerance for a centering way of life that is submissive to the conditions in which growth takes place: quiet, obscure, patient, not subject to human control and management. The church is uneasy in these conditions. Typically it adapts itself to the prevailing American culture and is soon indistinguishable from that culture: talkative, noisy, busy, controlling, image-conscious.” 

So this other kind of conversion, the conversion of those of us who enjoy some level of possession and status and goodness, is to be utterly stripped, dispossessed, emptied, made void, plunged into the terrifying emptiness, consumed by God’s love, offered up to God’s mercy, and then given away. Self-sufficiency, the impulse to dominate, hoard, defend, control all die on the cross with Christ.  Then the seeds of life - searching for good, receptive soil in which to root - will appear green and full. We will become generous, free, receptive people so that we might enjoy the riches of God’s goodness in God’s good world more abundantly.  Then we will receive good things as gifts to be shared. 

“Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age…and in the age to come eternal life.” Amen.




Sunday, October 6, 2024

The Anniversary of the Dedication of the Monastic Church of Saint Augustine

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY

Br. Scott Wesley Borden

The Anniversary of the Dedication of the Monastic Church

 Click here for an audio of the sermon

Today we celebrate the anniversary of the dedication of this church – and we could do no better than to hear again the words of Jacob from the book of Genesis... “How awesome is this place! It is none other than the house of God and gate of heaven.” Stirring and powerful words... 
Of course, back when this church was dedicated those words would have read a little differently, as you may have noticed in the Sequence Hymn penned by Isaac Watts: how awful is this place... That conjures a somewhat different experience... and even before it was awesome or awful, the King James translation used the word “dreadful” as in “How dreadful is this place...” That does not seem like the basis for much of a celebration...  
In fact, through the awesome and awful miracle of Google, I can tell you that this place is awesome and awful... fearful, terrifying, sacred, terrible, holy, worshipful and more. Translators clearly struggle to find just the right word. How challenging is this place...  
The problem is not with the translators. It's not that they have failed to find the right word. The problem is that a single word is not enough. All these various words bring particular insights in describing this place – it is awesome and dreadful, terrible and holy. It is, after all, the house of God – who is beyond description and comprehension. How could one word be enough? 
Our Orthodox brothers and sisters like to refer to God in contradictions – a way of acknowledging that human language, human comprehension, is never adequate to fully express or comprehend God.  
Of course, a story involving Jacob must, like Jacob, be conflicted. Jacob has, after all, lied his way into his position – he impersonated Esau his brother to steal Esau’s rightful inheritance. Jacob is a fraud and a cheat. He has good reason to be fearful in the presence of God... And yet, Jacob will become Israel – the progenitor and namesake of God’s chosen people. Jacob is a very deeply flawed person. Yet he is the foundation of Israel, and by extension a foundation stone of Christianity. The story we call to mind to celebrate this building is not a simple, easy story.  
For more than a century people, specifically Monkish sorts of people, have prayed in this awful place. I like numbers, so I had to do some calculations... I calculate that, over that time, perhaps one hundred and ninety thousand hours of worship and prayer have been offered in this terrible place. That is something like fourteen continuous years of prayer and praise... how sacred is this place... 
When we think of the house of God, the gate of heaven, we must think of Jesus. In today's Gospel Jesus is quite angry that God's house is turned into a den of thieves. We could comfort ourselves by reminding ourselves that Jesus has in mind the folks nestled around the temple in Jerusalem – so that lets us off the hook... except it doesn't, any more than it lets Jacob off the hook. If we think God is confined to just the inside of that house, or this house, or any house, we are wrong. God’s house is not just this place, not just this neighborhood, not just this entire planet. God’s house is all of God’s creation and we are stewards of God’s house. 
Can we be proud of our stewardship... of how our world is functioning today? Do we live in a land where peace and justice flow like a mighty river? Or even trickle like a little stream... How frightening is this place because here we must answer to God...   
Sometimes I wonder at Jesus walking among us and visiting the great and marvelous edifices we have built just for him... the cathedrals and shrines and sprawling mega-churches, and yes, monasteries with their chapels... And I hear Jesus saying, “its lovely, but what is it?”  
There is also a darker history we must not forget... a history of exclusion – when in this country, for example, some churches were built with special galleries so that black people could be kept away from white people... in Jesus' name. Or when our industrial scale greed allows us to despoil much of the planet destroying the homes of countless of God’s creatures... in Jesus’ name.  
When this church was built it had many steps... you could not enter without facing a barrage of steps, of physical barriers... those who had physical disabilities would have struggled mightily to enter; or more likely would have just stayed away... been excluded. But now, starting with the vision of Br Timothy and others over decades and with great effort and expense, we are barrier free so that all are not just welcome but can actually enter. How accessible is this place... (no, I didn't find that in any known translation, but it could be).  
This minster, this monastery church is certainly worthy of honor and praise. It is a very prayerful place. But it is not the stones and timber, the parging and paint, the crosses and icons that make it holy. It isn't even the altar standing in the east. This place is holy because this is where we gather to praise God.  
Two thousand years ago in Bethlehem a group of shepherds gathered to make a stable holy by greeting Jesus, praising God in heaven, and praying for peace on earth. How awesome, and how fertile, how smelly, how humble was that place.  
This place is certainly less smelly and less humble... but that doesn’t make it more awesome. There is no place in which God does not make a home, an awesome, awful, wonderful, and terrifying home. 
In this awesome and awful, dreadful and sacred, frightening and accessible place, we do just what those shepherds did – nothing more and nothing less. We meet Jesus. We pray glory to God in the highest. And having met Jesus – having become one flesh with Jesus in the mystery of the Eucharist – we are called go forth from this holy place to make peace on earth – just like those shepherds... 
God is present in the place, but God is not confined to it, or any of the houses we build... God is just as surely present in Sing Sing Prison, a little way down the Hudson from here. God is also surely present in the Manhattan Psychiatric Center which started its life as Blackwell’s Island Lunatic Asylum, still further down the river. God is not just present in the beautiful places we create to honor God. God is present in all places – the beautiful and the wretched – the places we would feel better if God never saw... 
London’s infamous Bedlam Hospital, a place so horrendous that it gave its name to our language to mean chaos, was not actually named Bedlam. It was Bethlehem Royal Hospital. That wild and notorious hospital was named for the place where God took on human flesh and entered our world. How appropriate – because Jesus entered a world that was more bedlam than beauty.  
We remember that Jesus always had special affection for those furthest on the margin – for lepers, for prostitutes, for prisoners, for lunatics... The example of Jesus is one of incredible, reckless, endless love... for everyone... As followers of Jesus, we are called to that same love for all of God’s creation. 
We might think of this church, on its dedication anniversary, not so much as God’s house as God’s womb – a womb where we can be reformed (born again, if you will)... a womb where we can be nurtured ever more into God’s likeness, where we can learn to love as God loves. It is a tall order, but God is patient and infinitely forgiving. So, we pray with those shepherds: glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth. 
And as we celebrate the dedication of this church, we call to mind the founding of the whole church in all forms, in all places, and at all times. The foundation of God’s Church is not made of stone, but rather of that incredible, reckless, boundless love to which Jesus calls us. How awesome is this place! It is none other than the house of God and gate of heaven. 

Sunday, September 29, 2024

Saint Michael and All Angels, September 29, 2024

 Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY

Br. Robert Leo Sevensky
Saint Michael and All Angels, September 29, 2024

Click here for an audio of the sermon


We don't get to preach all that often here at Holy Cross Monastery.  With seven or eight or more brothers preaching on Sundays and major feasts, opportunities are limited. But here I am again assigned to preach on this feast of Saint Michael and all Angels.  It turns out that I've preached on this feast at least three times in the last decade or so. What more is there to say? I've looked at all our past sermons for this feast which are on our monastery website, including three by me, and all these sermons are interesting and provocative. It's very tempting to want to lift one and just read it.  And that would be fine…except that was then and this is now. The world has changed and we have changed, and once again we have to ask what angels have to do with us today.

Probably most of us aren’t aware of it, but we are in what is called in church circles the Season of Creation. This is an annual observance for Christians endorsed by the Orthodox Ecumenical Patriarch and Pope Francis and the Archbishop of Canterbury, the World Council of Churches and many other church bodies inviting us to focus our attention on the created order and the many environmental crises we face, particularly the climate crisis, and to reflect on what it means for us as people of faith to care for creation. The observance began on September 1st, which is the first day of the church year for the Eastern Orthodox Christians, and concludes this Friday on the feast of Saint Francis of Assisi who for us Western Christians--indeed for all Christians--draws our hearts and minds to reflect upon our embeddedness in creation.

The theme for this year’s Season of Creation is “To hope and act with Creation.”   The brief official publicity for this year’s observance reads:

“In the letter of Paul the apostle to the Romans, the biblical image pictures the Earth as a Mother, groaning as in childbirth (Rom 8:22). Francis of Assisi understood this when he referred to the Earth as our sister and our mother in his Canticle of Creatures. The times we live in show that we are not relating to the Earth as a gift from our Creator, but rather as a resource to be used.

 

“And yet, there is hope and the expectation for a better future. To hope in a biblical context does not mean to stand still and quiet, but rather groaning, crying, and actively striving for new life amidst the struggles. Just as in childbirth, we go through a period of intense pain, but new life springs forth.”

 

I admit that I have been slow to catch the import of all this while many of our brothers and sisters, particularly the younger ones, have been painfully aware of how we have abused and damaged our mother earth and how that abuse and damage threatens our own existence, the existence of a people made in the image of God. For me it has been the reality of climate change which impacting us so directly that is bringing me and many others to awareness, but of course the issues go beyond climate.  Maybe my reluctance has something to do with what Al Gore called an inconvenient truth: that as we become aware, we realize sooner or later-- some of us much later--that we must act and that this will mean change, change in the way we live, change in the way we consume, change in the way we relate to each other and to the whole created order. Yes, in our foundational story we are given stewardship of the world. But stewardship does not mean exploitation, especially not for personal gain. Nor can it be bought at the expense of distant and powerless others.  It means rather a gentle tending with mutual respect and the sharing of burdens.

There is so much to be done in this arena, and the threats that we face are so grave, that it is easy to lose hope, to feel that that we simply can't make the necessary adjustments to our lives, nor can we convince those who wield power to make those hard and costly choices. And we labor as if it were all up to us; that we must bear this burden alone, and that there is no help outside of us. It is of course accurate to say that the demands and the responsibilities are very great, and we must, each of us, begin to come to terms with them. But we are not alone in this. And here's where the angels come in.

Whatever they are, the angels represent powers greater than ourselves who work for good, who defend and protect, who serve, who promote the divine purpose, furthering God’s dream not simply for us but and for the entire universe. The angels fight for right, they are hidden messengers who both warn and encourage, who seek the good of God's creation. And they are with us in this emerging task of responsible stewardship, a task which oftentimes seems impossible. Their message to us is: “This is possible. And we are there to help.”

Over the last weeks we have been reading the Book of Job at morning prayer. There's a wonderful passage towards the end where God speaks to Job out of a whirlwind and asks: “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?  Tell me if you have understanding. …On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone when the morning stars sang together and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?” (Job 38:4-7) These morning stars, these heavenly beings, have long been understood to be angels who comprise a kind of chorus encouraging God on in the primal process of creation. I like to think that they have a similar role to play today in overseeing that same creation, making sure that we don't mess it up hopelessly, that we don’t make an end of it or destroy it and ourselves. Perhaps today our invitation is to call on the angels to help us in the work creation care, calling on their aid as we begin, however haltingly, to hope and act with Creation and not over against it. That in a nutshell is my message for the feast of Saint Michael and all Angels in this year of our Lord 2024. 

I conclude with two quotations which I find helpful. The first is from the Anglican Church of Canada’s resource for feast days titled For All the Saints. It says of today’s feast:

Many good and faithful Christians find it difficult to accept the existence of angels; for them, angels have no more reality in fact than unicorns, griffins, or the phoenix. It may be true that the existence of angels is not one of the things in which Christians must believe if they want to be saved. Yet whenever Christians say the Nicene Creed, they confess that God has created “all that is, seen and unseen.” Entertaining the possibility of angels may be one way of acknowledging the sheer diversity of life, visible and invisible, that God has ordained in creation.

The second quote is a little grittier. It comes from the conclusion of a sermon our late beloved Brother Andrew Colquhoun preached here in 2011 on this very feast. Never one to mince words, Andrew says:

“Maybe I’m verging too far on superstition.

“But I don’t care. If you don’t believe in the angels, then for Christ’s sake become one.  Become a healer, and a proclaimer; become a warrior against hunger and hopelessness and evil.  Be a Light Bearer in the darkness around us.

“Do that for Love’s sake and believe me, you will find yourself on the side of the Angels…you will be Messengers of God, bearers of good tidings, protectors and lovers of God and God’s people. And the angels will rejoice!

“That’s probably good enough!”

You bet it is, Andrew. You bet it is.