Sunday, June 28, 2026

The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 8, June 28, 2026

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, New York

Br. Josep Martinez-Cubero
The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, June 28, 2026


The desert monk Abba Poemen said: "Do not be always wanting everything to turn out as you think it should, but rather as God pleases, then you will be undisturbed and thankful in your prayer." 
Today’s reading from the Book of Genesis is one of the most famous and compelling, but also one of the most horrifying, and abhorrent stories in the Bible. The story is the culmination of a series of episodes in Abraham and Sarah’s life, beginning when God calls Abram to go from his country to the land that God will show him, and God promises that his descendants will be “a great nation,” and that in Abraham all the families of the earth will be blessed. Thus begins Abraham’s epic, with themes of descendants, inherited blessing, and trust. 
But there’s a dilemma- Abraham and Sarah are unable to have children. So, they hatch a plan to use Hagar, an enslaved Egyptian woman in their household, as a surrogate mother, and Ishmael is born. But then, Sarah miraculously gets pregnant and bears Isaac. And so, we get to the story we heard last week. For jealous, self-serving, greedy and likely racist reasons, Sarah wields her power over Hagar and Ishmael. She tells Abraham to get rid of them so that Ishmael would not have a share in the inheritance and Isaac alone would inherit God’s blessing. Nice. Abraham is distressed over this, but he gets over it pretty fast and says he is listening to God, who tells him to listen to Sarah and “send Hagar out”, meaning out to die in the desert! Abraham clearly can’t distinguish God’s voice from his own. And Sarah’s motive is not to do the will of God, but to see that God does hers! No worries, the story shows us how God’s plans are always perfect even when beyond our comprehension and carried out in spite of the chaos we manage to create in ourselves because of our blind self-interests.
The event exposes the mixed motives driving Abraham and Sarah at this point in the story. (And I’m sure we all can relate to mixed motives.) On the one hand, they have faith in God’s promise. They left their homeland of Ur for an unknown place. On the other hand, they maneuver to advance their legacy by excluding others, and by doing so dishonor the spirit of God’s larger goal that, through them and their legacy, “all the families of the earth shall be blessed”. In fact, it seems their scheme to use Hagar as a surrogate itself shows a lack of trust in God. It is an anxious attempt to take matters into their own hands. 
Isaac is now the sole means for their legacy, for the fulfillment of God’s promise, for the “great nation” to come, and ultimately, for God’s plan to bless “all the families of the earth.” And so, we get to today’s distressing episode. Both accounts are really written as a consecutive, parallel pair. When both stories are read together, one can easily see how the central drama is a kind of death march for one of Abraham’s children, with God saving the child at the last moment. Both stories circle around the themes of descendants, inherited blessing, and trust. And in both stories, divine promises are vindicated: God will make “a great nation” from Ishmael no less than from Isaac. God desires neither Ishmael nor Isaac to die. On the contrary, God protects them both, cares for them both, and fulfills promises to make them both ancestors of multitudes. Why then, one might ask, God’s command for Abraham to sacrifice Isaac?
First, it’s important to understand that, as horrific as it sounds to our 21st Century western ears, the reality is that child sacrifice was a feature of ancient semitic devotion. For the Canaanites, Moabites, the people of Tirah, and other established civilizations in the Mediterranean Near East the custom would have been far from unknown. 
The very beginning of the story makes God’s purpose crystal clear: “After these things [meaning casting out Hagar and Ishmael and saying God told him it was OK] God tested Abraham”. The test echoes the ordeal he has put Hagar and Ishmael through. He sent Hagar out into the desert on a death march with her only child. Now he is the one who is walking on the death march of his other child. He attempted to cut off Hagar and Ishmael from inheriting the covenantal blessing. Now he will contemplate being cut off from the covenantal blessing by his own hand. If Isaac dies, Abraham will have no heir. The death of Isaac would mean the death of God’s promise that his descendants will become a great nation, and that Isaac will inherit God’s blessing- the inheritance Abraham and Sarah tried to hoard when they exiled Hagar and Ishmael. He manipulated for gain. Now he will face losing everything. He must choose between serving God and serving his own blind self-interests, between control and faith, between self-preservation and true love, which seeks to serve and to share, not to arrogate blessings to itself.
The story invites us to ask ourselves some fundamental questions about our relationship with God: 
What really drives my faith?  Confidence or fear, trust or anxiety, devotion or self-preservation. Do I really desire to serve God or serve myself using “faithful obedience” as a strategy for gain? All acts of “obedience” and “faith,” take place under a temptation to maneuver for gain- to obey in order to acquire an advantage.
The story makes it clear that God’s mercy always transcends mere punishment. Yes, there is accountability for what Abraham has done to Hagar and Ishmael, but more importantly there is a purging of manipulation and control necessary for a true strengthening of faith. In the end, Abraham’s faith and God’s promise are vindicated. God says to Abraham, “Now I know that you fear God.” Fearing God in this sense means regarding God with deep respect, reverence, and awe. 
In the evolution of human consciousness, the sacrificial instinct has to do with the deep recognition that something always has to die for something bigger to be born. From human sacrifice to animal sacrifice, human consciousness has gradually gotten closer to what really has to be sacrificed- our own ego! We will all find endless disguises and excuses to avoid letting go of what really needs to die for our own spiritual growth- our beloved passing self. It’s about developing the humility that finds strength in vulnerability. The vulnerability found when we accept our powerlessness, let go of our need for control, and truly believe and accept that God is in charge and has a plan much bigger and better than our ego’s plans. 
This is the vulnerability Jesus demands from his disciples when in today’s Gospel story he gives them instructions, not about extending welcome, as it may seem, but about receiving it, in his name. He sends his disciples to share the good news of God’s Reign as vulnerable outsiders. They had no religious institutions to back their efforts, or political tools to wield. And Jesus instructed them to carry nothing- no money, no food, no extra clothes. They had nothing at all, except the power of the Holy Spirit moving through them to heal and serve. Even the simplest, most basic need, a cup of cold water, would have to be met by others.   
The Desert Monastics taught that true peace can only be found by surrendering our own ego and will. They emphasized that inner transformation requires giving up the need to control. Again, Abba Poemen: "Do not be always wanting everything to turn out as you think it should, but rather as God pleases, then you will be undisturbed and thankful in your prayer." And Jesus said: “Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” ¡Que así sea en el nombre del Padre, del Hijo y del Espíritu Santo! ~Amen+  

Thursday, June 25, 2026

The Nativity of Saint John the Baptist, June 24, 2026

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Scott Wesley Borden

The Nativity of Saint John the Baptist, June 24, 2026

 

Today we keep the feast of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist. And its fun to speculate on what the appropriate menu for this feast might be... What sort of food would John the Baptist want? To be sure, it will have to be something very simple, something with very little taste – perhaps a main course of curdled milk and a desert of locusts and wild honey...

The Baptist's notoriously somber food wishes notwithstanding, the importance of John in the Christian story cannot be overstated. He prepares the world for Jesus and is acclaimed as the greatest profit ever known. We’re part of the story too – it is a story of how we prepare our hearts and minds and bodies to receive Jesus. It is the story for much of Advent, but it is really a story for any time and for all time.

There are a number of details in Luke’s account of the birth of John the Baptist that tell us the story is bigger than John. The fact that John is not to be named after his father is a very important detail – he is, after all, the first-born child. But Zecharia is out. He is to be named John – a name which has its roots in the Greek god of water. Is this subtle foreshadowing – after all, John will baptize with water. Water is also essential to all life as we know it. This may be Luke’s way of showing us that this story touches us all, not only the faithful Jews.

In the story of John’s birth, we have one of the most moving passages in scripture - the Song of Zachariah, also known as the Benedictus. “For you, John, will go before the Lord, bringing knowledge of salvation and light to those who are in darkness. You will lead us in the way of peace.” In our monastic worship, this is a hymn we sing at the start of every day.

This is John who we meet today. The forerunner. The profit called to prepare the world for the coming of Jesus. The one who leads us to peace. But the promise of John is a little different than the reality of John. He is a profit. And he does make the way ready for Jesus. But I’m not sure he leads us in the way of peace – at least not as we think of it. And frankly, I think John’s a bit of an extremist.

He wears sack cloth and covers himself with ashes. He has a diet of locust and wild honey. He leads his followers in a life of denial and fasting. His message is a harsh one – a message of judgement. He greets people with statements like “You brood of vipers...” His judgement against Herodias, the wife of Herod, is so severe that it costs him his life. If John were with us today, I wonder if he’d want to be part of the Episcopal Church, or any Church... Given his assessment of the Herod, I wonder what he might have to say about the leaders of our day.

Many of the things that John does are things that Jesus calls us not to do. Jesus doesn’t lead his followers in this extreme way. When asked why his followers are so much less disciplined than John’s, Jesus says that we are at a banquet and so we must celebrate – something that we will do symbolically in just a few moments at the Eucharist. Most importantly, Jesus does not condemn people, not even the wife of Herod. Jesus is building a congregation of sinners, not of saints.

I do believe Jesus looks with great joy at many churches in our time, even as we struggle. For our struggle is how to be greater in our inclusion – how to draw the circle wide and draw it wider still. The inclusion of Jesus, after all, knows no bounds.

But we still need to focus on John’s story and how it applies to us.

One essential element of John’s story is that he seems utterly uninterested, perhaps even incapable of telling anything but the truth – the whole unvarnished truth. He does not have the spirit of a politician. This is one aspect of the prophetic witness of John that we need. Being polite is one of the great virtues in contemporary Christianity. We didn’t get the from John... nor from Jesus...

If we could come to regard sugarcoating the truth as sin, perhaps fewer children would starve... perhaps fewer school children would be shot, perhaps health care would be universally available in the richest country on earth.

When we begin to encounter God as part of our lives – and I think all of us come to a point where we either begin an adult encounter with God, or we walk away from faith – when we encounter God we tend to respond in extreme terms. How could we do otherwise?

We want to get rid of everything that is ungodly; clean up our lives... And we want others to do the same. We hear the same call that John heard;

build a straight pathway in the wilderness, smooth out the rough places, fill in the potholes and get rid of the wicked folks. But at some point, we learn that Jesus also calls us to a feast, not a fast. And we learn that our purpose is not to build a perfect road. Our purpose is to travel that road with our brothers and sisters and all of God’s creation.

In other words, we must learn how to have a relationship with God. This is a lifelong process. Any relationship takes time and effort to grow strong and whole. Relationships often have clumsy starts and rough patches, but over time they grow deeper and more complex. John the Baptist helps us start the relationship with God, but Jesus teaches us about the deep and abiding love of God.

That is ultimately what John was doing. Welcoming God into his life, welcoming the incarnation of God into this world, welcoming Jesus, who at that time was a highly expected stranger. There were many sets of expectations for the Savior, but they were mostly seriously off the mark. I would just point out that even these days, many of our expectations of Jesus are way off the mark.

But in our different ways we are working to welcome Jesus into our lives through the increasing of love and justice. John is called a profit of the Most High – a title none of us claim. But we are all called by our baptism to be God’s messengers. The message is God’s love. And we must remember that love and justice are eternally linked.    

The call of John the Baptist is a call to all of us through our baptism: Make the world ready, make ourselves ready, shine light in dark places, lead the way to God’s peace. The call doesn’t come from John - it comes through John. That is perhaps the most joyful piece of John’s story - the story of all of us.

God can use us as we are. We can serve as God’s instruments in spite of ourselves.

And if we are a little too harsh, or a bit clumsy, or we muddle the message a bit, it's OK. We can fall down and get back up. Because ultimately, we are messengers, not the message. The message is that God, who is love, is alive and dwells with all creation.

Sunday, June 14, 2026

The Third Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 6, June 14, 2026

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Bruno Santana, OHC

The Third Sunday after Pentecost, June 14, 2026




There is a lot of pain in our world today. But you do not need me to tell you that. We see it every day. Physical pain. Emotional pain. Spiritual pain. We see the pain caused by violence, injustice, poverty, loneliness, division, and fear. We hear about it in the news. We see it in the faces of people we love. Sometimes we carry it quietly in our own hearts. Every one of us has a story of pain. Maybe it is your own struggle. Maybe it is the suffering of someone you love. Maybe it is the suffering of a neighbor, a friend, or even a stranger. 
So today I want to begin with a simple question: Where does it hurt? Perhaps that sounds like a heavy way to begin a sermon. But I believe this question is at the heart of today's Gospel. There was a lot of pain in Jesus' world as well. Throughout the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus meets people who are hurting. He meets a father grieving the death of his daughter. A woman who had suffered for twelve years. A leper rejected by society. The sick, the poor, the forgotten, and the broken-hearted. And every time, Jesus stops. He notices. He listens. He responds. The Gospel tells us that Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching, preaching, and healing. Behind every healing was a person. Behind every miracle was a story. Behind every story was pain. Then Jesus looks at the crowds and has compassion for them. He sees that they are exhausted, burdened, and lost, “like sheep without a shepherd.” And then he says something surprising: “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.” 
In other words, there is so much suffering in the world, and there are not enough people willing to enter that suffering with compassion. So Jesus tells his disciples: “Pray to the Lord of the harvest to send laborers into his harvest.” That sounds familiar, doesn't it? When people are sick, we pray. When families are struggling, we pray. When there is violence, war, or injustice, we pray. And we should pray. But notice what happens next in today's Gospel. Jesus barely gives the disciples time to say “Amen” before he sends them out. They pray for laborers. Then Jesus makes them the laborers. He turns them into the answer to their own prayer. And perhaps he is doing the same thing with us. 
Every Sunday we pray, “Thy kingdom come.” But are we willing to become part of the answer to that prayer? When we pray for peace, are we willing to be peacemakers? When we pray for healing, are we willing to bring comfort to someone who is suffering? When we pray for the lonely, are we willing to make room at our table? Prayer is not only something we say with our lips. Prayer is something we live with our hands, our feet, and our hearts. Jesus never turned away from suffering. He entered into it. He carried it. And he transformed it through love. The same compassion that moved Jesus is meant to move us. So I ask you again: What pain do you carry today? What pain do you see in the life of another? What pain do you see in our community? And what is God asking of you in response? Because the Kingdom of God is not an escape from the pain of this world. The Kingdom comes whenever compassion overcomes indifference. 
The Kingdom comes whenever someone is seen, heard, welcomed, forgiven, or loved. The Kingdom comes whenever we become the hands and feet of Christ. In a few moments we will pray once again, “Thy kingdom come.” As we pray those words, let us ask ourselves: How will I give my hands to that prayer? How will I give my feet to that prayer? How will I become part of God's answer today? Amen