The Church of the Transfiguration, New York, NY
Br. Adam McCoy, OHC
Lent 3 A - March 27, 2011
Exodus 17:1-7
Romans 5:1-11
John 4:5-42
What an extraordinary story we’ve just heard. Jesus, on his way north from Jerusalem to Galilee, passing through Samaria, a place most Jews would avoid, a sort of religious wasteland. Jesus and the remarkable, chatty lady he meets at the well. The therapeutic, almost clinical, conversation they have about her married life. Their banter about religious customs. The mysterious dialogue about water. And then the salvation moment for her entire community. How extraordinary.
Practically the first thing one learns in Sunday School about the culture of the New Testament is that Jews and Samaritans don’t get along. That’s the required background for understanding the parable of the Good Samaritan. So it is perhaps a little surprising to find Jesus and this lady chatting away, and that surprise is a reaction worth holding on to. This is one of those Bible stories which gets more complicated as you pay attention to it. Not only did Jews and Samaritans not get along: Jews actively despised Samaritans as collaborators who had interbred with the enemy during the occupation after the fall of Israel. Samaritans had strange customs. They worshiped on the wrong mountain. The Jews thought them unclean and treated them that way.
And this woman is strange. Drawing water was women’s work, and it had attached to it a lot of gendered significance. Women would come together in groups to the well, in their sisterly solidarity catching up on the news, commenting on the day’s events, checking up on the children, supporting each other, in their gossip implicitly upholding the village social morality. But John makes a point of telling us that the woman at the well is alone. Women generally would draw water in the cool of the morning or early evening, because hauling water is heavy work, not to be done in the heat of the day. John makes a point of telling us that she is there at noon. Is she alone and at the well at the wrong hour because she is being shunned, because of her irregular life? Men and women in first century Palestine generally did not talk socially with each other unless they were related and at home. In fact, women rarely left home at all, and certainly not unaccompanied. And yet here she is, surprised by Jesus’ request for water from her, but ready to engage a perfect stranger, all alone, out in public. She is clearly the wrong sort of person, in the wrong sort of place, doing the wrong sort of thing. And yet Jesus unfolds for her the secret mystery of his identity: "I am he, the one who is speaking to you." This to an unclean Samaritan, excluded by the other women of the village, with a scandalous marital history, living in sin, with no evident regard at all for what is proper. And not only is this woman a member of this despised group, the Samaritans: she is not even a successful Samaritan. She is the despised among the despised. And yet, how remarkable: Instead of sinking into depression, anger or worse, she bears her burden, literally and figuratively: Excluded from the sisterhood? She picks up her water jar every noon anyway and walks off to the well alone, ready to encounter what may come to her, ready for Jesus. An amazing woman.
But wait. There is more that is strange in this story.
The Old Testament lesson today tells us of the thirsty Israelites in the desert, nagging Moses about water. Those needy, pesky Israelites, always thinking about themselves. But who is thirsty in the story from John? This passage makes me think of the saying in Matthew: “Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple--truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward." (Mt 10:42) Who is giving the cup of water to whom? Is Jesus one of the little ones in this story? Is he the thirsty Israelite depending on God’s grace for what his life needs as he travels through this desert place?
There are so many reversals in this story: The woman excluded from her community, breaking ancestral custom and the laws governing the lives of men and women. Her almost rabbinic theological dialogue with Jesus, not what one expects from a woman in her culture, even more from a woman like her. And Jesus, out of place, in humility, asking for water in the wilderness, looking for that most elemental act of human kindness, a cup of water. And in return, opening the secret mysteries of the overflowing, never-failing grace of God. To an unclean, outcast, social misfit of a woman from an antagonistic, despised outsider group.
And then the unexpected conclusion to the story: This strange woman goes into the village, the village of her social exclusion, tells the elders what has happened, and miracle of miracles: those elders listen to her, and invite Jesus to stay with them. Even if his introduction to them comes from her. And he does. And they come to believe. I wonder if the key to this story is not the ending, which has often seemed to me to be something of a non sequitur: “But I tell you, look around you, and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting.” Is this the harvest the disciples expected? The first fruits of Jesus’ ministry is – Samaritans? Samaritans? This is a great sign of God’s redeeming love for the whole world through Jesus Christ: the lowest of the low, the most despised and rejected are among the first to respond to Jesus’ presence and Jesus’ words. One is perhaps reminded of the prophet Jonah, sent to a place he did not want to visit, and it is there, in Nineveh, not in Israel, that people are found who listen and respond to the invitation of God. And here, as Matthew and Luke say, “Here you have a greater than Jonah.” (Mt 12:41, Lk 11:32)
Have you ever been a Samaritan? Even if you have had success in life, I am willing to bet that somewhere deep down this woman resonates with you. She does with me.
Do you remember, when you were in junior high school, how important it was to be accepted, to be part of the group? Do you remember the terror that you might be excluded? And the shame, humiliation, degradation of actually being labeled one of “them” instead of one of “us”? To work and work to be part of the right group and then to be dismissed with a cutting remark, a single word, a look: You aren’t one of the favored, one of us. You never will be. To be in the band instead of on the football team or in the cheerleading squad? Who, after all, are the homecoming kings and queens? Not first chair clarinet, I can tell you. And God help you if you are the last clarinet in the back row!
For me one of the great excitements of the story of the Samaritan woman at the well is that it shows that God’s message is not just for the victors, not for the in group that I will never really be completely at home with. Jesus comes to the well in humility and expectation, looking for that special lost one from whom he asks only what she is able to give. His openness to her opens her to him in return, and once over the surprise and shock of this seemingly inappropriate encounter, their conversation reveals her heart: What about the fact that my people are excluded, dishonored, Samaritans? What about my own irregular, failure of a life? It is to her, not to someone more seemingly worthy, that Jesus reveals his messianic secret, the inner meaning of salvation, the great good news: The burden you have to bear is no burden to God. God’s water is living water. You need never thirst again.
Who are we that God should come to us? Failed Samaritans? Who are we that God should ask of us only what we can give, even if it is a cup of water? Who are we that God should spend whole days and nights as a guest among us, unworthy as we are? Who are we that God should answer our questions, take an interest in our lives, even in our messy, serially-failing lives? Who are we that in these simple acts God should reveal to us the truth?
What grace, that Jesus in extreme humility comes to us as we carry the heavy water jars of our lives. How extraordinary that he should be the one to ask a simple gift of us, a gift we can actually give him, when we should ask what we need of him. How extraordinary that he should find in us a community from which he begins to build the kingdom.
May we be like that woman: failed Samaritans, yes, but possessed of the strength of character to encounter the stranger at the well, to engage him fearlessly, to perceive in ourselves the change he offers to us, and then the courage to tell our community. And may our communities, very likely Samaritans all in the eyes of the truly righteous, have the grace and courage of spirit to invite him in, to listen and to hear, and then to say with them: This is truly the Savior of the world.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Lent 3 A - 27 Mar 2011
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Bernard Delcourt, OHC
Lent 3 A - March 27, 2011
Exodus 17:1-7
Romans 5:1-11
John 4:5-42
Come to the well
Lord help us follow your example of reconciliation; help us reach out to the Samaritan woman in our life; help us do God’s will as our daily worship. May we all contribute to the harvesting of your fields, to the building of your Kingdom. Amen.
*****
In last week’s gospel, Nicodemus, an insider of the dominant religion came to find Jesus by night and struggled with the teachings he was offered.
This week, in the middle of a hot day, Jesus reaches out to an outsider. He offers her the wellspring of eternal life, no less; if only she will ask him for it.
These two passages, Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman, are linked in meaning by the good news that “...God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” Both Nicodemus and the Woman at the well, came to believing in Jesus, even if by different journeys.
This week’s gospel reassures us that no one will be denied who will believe in Jesus. Jesus “gets us.” He fully understands all that is good and all that is sinful in us. In full knowledge, he reaches out and desires us to be saved with him, in him and through him.
*****
But let me set the scene of today’s passage. As Jesus ran into increasing resistance from religious authorities in Judea, he decided to eschew confrontation and to continue his ministry in Galilee.
Now, the shortest route between Judea and Galilee goes through Samaria. Most Jews would have preferred the longer route which would have avoided Samaria altogether.
You see, Jews and Samaritans had a centuries-old, intense dislike for each other. In a nutshell, Jews reproached Samaritans for having lost their Jewish integrity; their religious and ethnic purity. But Jesus deliberately chooses to travel through Samaria.
Christ encounters the woman at the well - Richard Serrin
Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well shows us God's desire to free us, each one of us, into a life of integrity; a life in truth and spirit. There is so much in this encounter that speaks to me. This morning, I’d like to focus on reconciliation and worship.
Reconciliation and worship are two great ways to accept Jesus’ invitation to salvation. Let me tell you a bit more about what I see in today’s gospel about these two aspects of the spiritual journey.
*****
First, it is reconciliation that Jesus brings to the woman at the well. The Samaritan woman is invited to face herself as she is, there and then. She is invited to be fully known as she truly is, without social pretenses.
And she is invited to ask for the gift of grace; the well of living water springing up to eternal life. She is invited to step into her own salvation. All that is needed is accepting to be fully known as she is, and to believe.
And it isn't just anyone that Jesus invites in this way; the gender, the social status and the ethnic origin of who he invites shows that God has little interest for our human boundaries of separation.
The apostles, when they return from their errands into the city, are flabbergasted that Jesus would be speaking with a woman, a Samaritan woman and a compromised Samaritan woman, at that!
But, Jesus shows that God's message is for all; for Jews and non-Jews alike; for people in good standing and for outsiders. God doesn't need to choose the most prestigious and privileged amongst us for salvation to be wrought.
The Samaritan woman goes on to become an evangelist in bringing her own people to God.
The disciples too are invited to step out of their own cultural boundaries here. Jesus shows them an enlarged mission; their harvest will extend beyond the Jewish people, starting with those Samaritans they grew up to despise.
*****
Through the events of his meeting with the Samaritan woman at the well, Jesus also teaches us about true worship. True worship is not linked to a place, be it the temple in Jerusalem or anywhere else. True worship is the lives we live with God, in truth and spirit. True worship is our lives lived in integrity with God.
You see, worship is that, which we do, that embodies our values. By showing up in church this morning, for example, you are demonstrating that you give value to the word and the will of God. Our presence here for the liturgy is a common understanding we have of the word "worship."
But everything we are, and everything we do, can embody what we give value to. When you insist in your relationships on being truthful, respectful and loving, you are worshipping God in God's creatures. When you are re-using, recycling and generally reducing your use of physical resources, you are worshiping God in God's creation, for instance.
All of Life can be worship. Living our lives in truth and spirit is worshiping God in all we are, and all we do. We worship God when we live life as if everything we do mattered.
*****
And Jesus, the Christ, the anointed one, tells us where to look to find the sustenance for our life with God.
Reconciliation and worship start where we meet the Living God; in our innermost heart, in the quiet of willingly being present to all that is.
And there, we are to ask, to receive, and to accept the gifts of God: the well of living water that will spring to eternal life and the food of doing God's will.
But asking, receiving, and accepting are each important steps of this movement of the heart. Grace is never forced on us. We have to make ourselves available to it (possibly with some help).
The Samaritan woman does not seem to have walked to the well feeling ready and able to accept grace, that day. And yet, in her, little by little, Jesus created the room for her to receive grace. Trust that Jesus is making that room for grace in you and move in to live from there.
*****
Jesus starts all of these important teachings, by reaching out to a single person; one person whom, by all conventions, he's supposed to not even speak to. Could this person be me, or could it be you?
I believe salvation starts with our own self. I need to accept to know myself as fully and lovingly as God knows me. I need to build relationships where we aim to know each other as truthfully as God knows us. Salvation starts with any one person you interact with in truth and spirit; it starts with yourself, with God, with any of God’s children.
*****
So hear what the Samaritan woman's story has to tell us.
Through Jesus, God wants us, each of us, all of us, to be reconciled to him, to ourselves and to each other.
We are invited not to harden our hearts with earthly preoccupations but to let the living water spring to eternal life in us.
We are invited to be fed in worship; to be fed in doing God’s will through all of what our life is made of.
Come to the well and let Jesus refresh you. God so loves you.
Amen.
*****
Note: this sermon comes from my re-editing of a similar sermon I preached on the same gospel in 2008 at St Boniface, Sarasota, Florida.
Br. Bernard Delcourt, OHC
Lent 3 A - March 27, 2011
Exodus 17:1-7
Romans 5:1-11
John 4:5-42
Come to the well
Lord help us follow your example of reconciliation; help us reach out to the Samaritan woman in our life; help us do God’s will as our daily worship. May we all contribute to the harvesting of your fields, to the building of your Kingdom. Amen.
*****
In last week’s gospel, Nicodemus, an insider of the dominant religion came to find Jesus by night and struggled with the teachings he was offered.
This week, in the middle of a hot day, Jesus reaches out to an outsider. He offers her the wellspring of eternal life, no less; if only she will ask him for it.
These two passages, Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman, are linked in meaning by the good news that “...God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” Both Nicodemus and the Woman at the well, came to believing in Jesus, even if by different journeys.
This week’s gospel reassures us that no one will be denied who will believe in Jesus. Jesus “gets us.” He fully understands all that is good and all that is sinful in us. In full knowledge, he reaches out and desires us to be saved with him, in him and through him.
*****
But let me set the scene of today’s passage. As Jesus ran into increasing resistance from religious authorities in Judea, he decided to eschew confrontation and to continue his ministry in Galilee.
Now, the shortest route between Judea and Galilee goes through Samaria. Most Jews would have preferred the longer route which would have avoided Samaria altogether.
You see, Jews and Samaritans had a centuries-old, intense dislike for each other. In a nutshell, Jews reproached Samaritans for having lost their Jewish integrity; their religious and ethnic purity. But Jesus deliberately chooses to travel through Samaria.
Christ encounters the woman at the well - Richard SerrinJesus’ encounter with the woman at the well shows us God's desire to free us, each one of us, into a life of integrity; a life in truth and spirit. There is so much in this encounter that speaks to me. This morning, I’d like to focus on reconciliation and worship.
Reconciliation and worship are two great ways to accept Jesus’ invitation to salvation. Let me tell you a bit more about what I see in today’s gospel about these two aspects of the spiritual journey.
*****
First, it is reconciliation that Jesus brings to the woman at the well. The Samaritan woman is invited to face herself as she is, there and then. She is invited to be fully known as she truly is, without social pretenses.
And she is invited to ask for the gift of grace; the well of living water springing up to eternal life. She is invited to step into her own salvation. All that is needed is accepting to be fully known as she is, and to believe.
And it isn't just anyone that Jesus invites in this way; the gender, the social status and the ethnic origin of who he invites shows that God has little interest for our human boundaries of separation.
The apostles, when they return from their errands into the city, are flabbergasted that Jesus would be speaking with a woman, a Samaritan woman and a compromised Samaritan woman, at that!
But, Jesus shows that God's message is for all; for Jews and non-Jews alike; for people in good standing and for outsiders. God doesn't need to choose the most prestigious and privileged amongst us for salvation to be wrought.
The Samaritan woman goes on to become an evangelist in bringing her own people to God.
The disciples too are invited to step out of their own cultural boundaries here. Jesus shows them an enlarged mission; their harvest will extend beyond the Jewish people, starting with those Samaritans they grew up to despise.
*****
Through the events of his meeting with the Samaritan woman at the well, Jesus also teaches us about true worship. True worship is not linked to a place, be it the temple in Jerusalem or anywhere else. True worship is the lives we live with God, in truth and spirit. True worship is our lives lived in integrity with God.
You see, worship is that, which we do, that embodies our values. By showing up in church this morning, for example, you are demonstrating that you give value to the word and the will of God. Our presence here for the liturgy is a common understanding we have of the word "worship."
But everything we are, and everything we do, can embody what we give value to. When you insist in your relationships on being truthful, respectful and loving, you are worshipping God in God's creatures. When you are re-using, recycling and generally reducing your use of physical resources, you are worshiping God in God's creation, for instance.
All of Life can be worship. Living our lives in truth and spirit is worshiping God in all we are, and all we do. We worship God when we live life as if everything we do mattered.
*****
And Jesus, the Christ, the anointed one, tells us where to look to find the sustenance for our life with God.
Reconciliation and worship start where we meet the Living God; in our innermost heart, in the quiet of willingly being present to all that is.
And there, we are to ask, to receive, and to accept the gifts of God: the well of living water that will spring to eternal life and the food of doing God's will.
But asking, receiving, and accepting are each important steps of this movement of the heart. Grace is never forced on us. We have to make ourselves available to it (possibly with some help).
The Samaritan woman does not seem to have walked to the well feeling ready and able to accept grace, that day. And yet, in her, little by little, Jesus created the room for her to receive grace. Trust that Jesus is making that room for grace in you and move in to live from there.
*****
Jesus starts all of these important teachings, by reaching out to a single person; one person whom, by all conventions, he's supposed to not even speak to. Could this person be me, or could it be you?
I believe salvation starts with our own self. I need to accept to know myself as fully and lovingly as God knows me. I need to build relationships where we aim to know each other as truthfully as God knows us. Salvation starts with any one person you interact with in truth and spirit; it starts with yourself, with God, with any of God’s children.
*****
So hear what the Samaritan woman's story has to tell us.
Through Jesus, God wants us, each of us, all of us, to be reconciled to him, to ourselves and to each other.
We are invited not to harden our hearts with earthly preoccupations but to let the living water spring to eternal life in us.
We are invited to be fed in worship; to be fed in doing God’s will through all of what our life is made of.
Come to the well and let Jesus refresh you. God so loves you.
Amen.
*****
Note: this sermon comes from my re-editing of a similar sermon I preached on the same gospel in 2008 at St Boniface, Sarasota, Florida.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Annunciation - 25 Mar 2011
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. James Michael Dowd, OHC
Annunciation - March 25, 2011
Isaiah 7:10-14
Hebrews 10:4-10
Luke 1:26-38
The Annunciation of Our Lord
Back when I was a Postulant, which isn't that long ago but seems like a century or so, I was walking down the middle-house hallway one winter's day with Brother Reginald, who was my Novice Master, heading over to the refectory for our mid-day meal. When you walk from the church toward the guest house at that time of day in winter, the sun comes right through the window of the door at the end of the hallway which leads outside. That window is shaped as a rectangle and at just the time we are normally headed to dinner during the winter, the shaft of light that comes through that window shines down onto the floor as if it were a beam of light coming from the heavens.
As we were walking over one day, I said to Reginald: “every time I see that light coming through the window, I think of the Annunciation.” To which he replied: “Oh Lord, please tell me you didn't send me another pious one!” Somewhat shocked, I responded, “no, you don't understand, it looks like so many paintings I've seen of the Annunciation in which a beam of light is coming through the window and shining on Mary you know – as the symbol – of you know...” and as my face turned red and my voice trailed off, Reginald just rolled his eyes and said: “Oh God, pious and twisted!”
The Annunciation may be my favorite feast of the entire year. It is filled with meaning and history for me – and, I think, for all of God's people. It has certainly been artistically studied in many a painting, as I was trying to tell Reginald. One of my favorites is by the 15th Century Florentine painter Filippo Lippi, who actually painted three different depictions of the Annunciation. One of them, my favorite, has the Virgin Mary inside her home, with the Angel Gabriel greeting her. The unique aspect of this painting is that coming through the window, apparently directly from heaven are the hands of God releasing the Holy Spirit, symbolized by a dove, with a ray of light coming directly from God's hands and the Holy Spirit.
I just love it that God's hands are breaking through our atmosphere in order to right things with humanity, and indeed, all of creation. And make no mistake about it, that is exactly the story that we tell on Annunciation. It is a story that begins with two people, Adam and Eve; continues with another, the Virgin Mary, and has an ending that all God's people can participate in. The main character, of course, is the Triune God who created all those people in the first place, redeems them, and calls them to be one with him at every opportunity.
If the painting tradition of the Western Church is my favorite way to picture the Annunciation, it is the spirituality of the Eastern Church that is my favorite way to understand the Annunciation. St. Athanasius of Alexandria put it simply when he said “the Son of God was made man, so that man might be made a god.” This process is called theosis and is a central piece of Orthodox monastic spirituality.
Athanasius tells us that God “deified men by Himself becoming man” and “being God, he has taken to him the flesh and being in the flesh deifies the flesh.”
So what does this mean for our lives? Maybe nothing...maybe everything...
Let's go back to our story, beginning with Adam and Eve. Now these first two prototypes of humanity were created as perfect human beings. That does not mean they were God. It means they were perfect human beings, fully alive, created not in our colloquial sense of “I'm only human” but rather as the highest form of God's creation. These perfect beings were those who God intended to become the stewards of creation, who would be able to create great art and literature, who would sing God's praises throughout the day, who would love one another and live in a peaceful and just way with each other and with all of creation. That's being “perfectly human” – not “only human.”
But another aspect of being perfectly human is God's gift of free will. In order to have a legitimate relationship, which God desires of humanity, there must be free will. You cannot force someone to love you no matter how hard you try. If God had attempted to force love out of Adam and Eve there would have been a false note to that love, and nothing false can come from God.
You'll remember that while living in the Garden, Adam and Eve were totally naked but suffered no shame. This symbolized a complete openness and vulnerability to each other, to all of creation, and to God. But having free will allowed Adam and Eve to begin to question their life in the Garden, their lack of understanding of good and evil, and even their relationship with God.
The vulnerability that Adam and Eve initially lived into so freely, ultimately became quite frightening, as it is to many people. And having free will, they began to think to themselves “why is it that God is the only one who has knowledge of good and evil. I'd like that knowledge too. If I had that knowledge I'd be in a stronger position and then I would be able to take care of myself – and not rely on God.”
Not allowing ourselves to be vulnerable to God, and the desire to be in a stronger position than even God, with the intended result of being able to “take care of ourselves” is, I believe, the root of all sin – personal and communal. When we refuse, usually out of fear, to trust God in a completely vulnerable way, we find ourselves in a state of what the Greek Church calls amartia which is a state of being off-kilter or “not right” and this can lead to our becoming ashamed of our own figurative nakedness before God. This leads to an acting out of all manner of sin, destroying any semblance of a relationship with God. This is exactly where our story of Adam and Eve picks up. Despite being given everything they could possibly need, they wanted something more, without even knowing what it was they wanted.
And so thus began a process of dehumanization that would lead to Cain murdering his brother Abel, a foretaste of the hatred, massive violence – tribe against tribe, nation against nation, torture, terrorism, and the destruction of innocent life at all stages, that would grip all of God's creation in a vice of unbearable degradation. Now, without the benefit of a Garden filled with more than enough to eat, humanity had to toil in back-breaking ways just to find enough food to survive. Poverty, disease, malaise, hopelessness, all would contribute to the dehumanization of humanity and the destruction of God's creation.
Over time, this dehumanization would take its toll on all of humanity, but there was a faithful remnant, the Jewish people who, on their good days, would remember God's faithfulness in leading them out of slavery and into a land of their own while constantly calling them to care for the widow, the orphan and the stranger among them. At times when they were not so faithful to God's call, prophets would rise up and remind their people, in no uncertain terms, that their role was to be faithful servants of God, that even in their darkest hours they were to remain faithful to God because God would guide them into a way forward. This would require the people to be once again, naked before God – vulnerable and open to God's love. To be perfect human beings.
One such person would exist in all of Israel, Mary of Nazareth. A young girl, really, who was so open and vulnerable to God that she could allow herself to believe the nearly unbelievable words of the Angel Gabriel. Unlike the Eve of the Garden, this new Eve, Mary of Nazareth, because of an intense life of prayer, would be able to stand before God totally naked, without shame and with great vulnerability. The Eastern Church is fond of telling the story about Mary spending her early years in the Temple studying the Scriptures and praying constantly. In the West, the tradition teaches that it was at home with her parents, St. Anne and St. Joachim that she learned to study the Scriptures and to constantly pray. The details don't really matter, what does matter is that Mary was able to accept God's Word as enough for her. She had so committed her life to waiting on the Lord and listening in the silence of her prayer, that when the Lord called she was able to respond “be it done to me according to your word.” And in believing that God's Word was enough for her, the Word, quite literally, became enfleshed in her.
And that is what St. Athanasius was talking about. It is the spirituality of theosis, which has been defined in several ways, but the definition that I most respond to states that theosis is the “participation in the life of God.” And for humanity to participate in the life of God, ultimately achieving full union with God, God had to act first, breaking through our atmosphere and sending his Son, Jesus the Christ, to begin the process of re-humanizing us. God's radical act of Incarnation even outdid the original act of Creation. For now, God's ultimate goal was to allow us to reclaim our perfect humanity by showing us just how holy a human being could be.
Jesus, the Son of God and equally the son of Mary would, through the power of his Incarnation, take on our flesh so that we could know what it was to be re-humanized – that is, made in the image and likeness of God as perfect human beings.
And this is why the Blessed Virgin Mary is seen as the model for monastics, and indeed for the whole Church. Mary did not leave home in order to do great things, to become a prophet or a judge of Israel. Mary prayed, ceaselessly. She waited on the Lord, with total patience. She listened, no doubt, with the ear of her heart. She allowed herself to be totally exposed to God, standing naked before the Holy Spirit with a profound level of trust in God and in the belief that God had created her to be a perfect human being. And when she did that, she then became available to the Holy Spirit, sent by God, to enflesh the Son of God in her.
At Vespers this evening, the lesson is taken from the Prologue of St. John's Gospel and begins with verse nine: “The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. To all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God.” That is why that light coming through the window of the door is so meaningful to me. With his Incarnation, Christ has broken through our atmosphere and made himself available to all God's children. This is our call: To respond to the Ultimate Love is a call to totally empty our beings of all the dehumanization that has been put on us by ourselves or others. And to put on the perfect humanity that God created us with – a humanity filled with light, a humanity that works for peace, lives justly, loves friend and foe alike, and, most of all, prays without ceasing and in total nakedness and availability before God. It is a humanity that is able, because God was willing to humble himself in the Incarnation, to respond – finally – to the invitation to love God that is offered to us so freely by God. Do that, and just wait and see how God enfleshes himself in you.
AMEN.
Br. James Michael Dowd, OHC
Annunciation - March 25, 2011
Isaiah 7:10-14
Hebrews 10:4-10
Luke 1:26-38
The Annunciation of Our Lord
Back when I was a Postulant, which isn't that long ago but seems like a century or so, I was walking down the middle-house hallway one winter's day with Brother Reginald, who was my Novice Master, heading over to the refectory for our mid-day meal. When you walk from the church toward the guest house at that time of day in winter, the sun comes right through the window of the door at the end of the hallway which leads outside. That window is shaped as a rectangle and at just the time we are normally headed to dinner during the winter, the shaft of light that comes through that window shines down onto the floor as if it were a beam of light coming from the heavens.
As we were walking over one day, I said to Reginald: “every time I see that light coming through the window, I think of the Annunciation.” To which he replied: “Oh Lord, please tell me you didn't send me another pious one!” Somewhat shocked, I responded, “no, you don't understand, it looks like so many paintings I've seen of the Annunciation in which a beam of light is coming through the window and shining on Mary you know – as the symbol – of you know...” and as my face turned red and my voice trailed off, Reginald just rolled his eyes and said: “Oh God, pious and twisted!”
The Annunciation may be my favorite feast of the entire year. It is filled with meaning and history for me – and, I think, for all of God's people. It has certainly been artistically studied in many a painting, as I was trying to tell Reginald. One of my favorites is by the 15th Century Florentine painter Filippo Lippi, who actually painted three different depictions of the Annunciation. One of them, my favorite, has the Virgin Mary inside her home, with the Angel Gabriel greeting her. The unique aspect of this painting is that coming through the window, apparently directly from heaven are the hands of God releasing the Holy Spirit, symbolized by a dove, with a ray of light coming directly from God's hands and the Holy Spirit.
I just love it that God's hands are breaking through our atmosphere in order to right things with humanity, and indeed, all of creation. And make no mistake about it, that is exactly the story that we tell on Annunciation. It is a story that begins with two people, Adam and Eve; continues with another, the Virgin Mary, and has an ending that all God's people can participate in. The main character, of course, is the Triune God who created all those people in the first place, redeems them, and calls them to be one with him at every opportunity.
If the painting tradition of the Western Church is my favorite way to picture the Annunciation, it is the spirituality of the Eastern Church that is my favorite way to understand the Annunciation. St. Athanasius of Alexandria put it simply when he said “the Son of God was made man, so that man might be made a god.” This process is called theosis and is a central piece of Orthodox monastic spirituality.
Athanasius tells us that God “deified men by Himself becoming man” and “being God, he has taken to him the flesh and being in the flesh deifies the flesh.”
So what does this mean for our lives? Maybe nothing...maybe everything...
Let's go back to our story, beginning with Adam and Eve. Now these first two prototypes of humanity were created as perfect human beings. That does not mean they were God. It means they were perfect human beings, fully alive, created not in our colloquial sense of “I'm only human” but rather as the highest form of God's creation. These perfect beings were those who God intended to become the stewards of creation, who would be able to create great art and literature, who would sing God's praises throughout the day, who would love one another and live in a peaceful and just way with each other and with all of creation. That's being “perfectly human” – not “only human.”
But another aspect of being perfectly human is God's gift of free will. In order to have a legitimate relationship, which God desires of humanity, there must be free will. You cannot force someone to love you no matter how hard you try. If God had attempted to force love out of Adam and Eve there would have been a false note to that love, and nothing false can come from God.
You'll remember that while living in the Garden, Adam and Eve were totally naked but suffered no shame. This symbolized a complete openness and vulnerability to each other, to all of creation, and to God. But having free will allowed Adam and Eve to begin to question their life in the Garden, their lack of understanding of good and evil, and even their relationship with God.
The vulnerability that Adam and Eve initially lived into so freely, ultimately became quite frightening, as it is to many people. And having free will, they began to think to themselves “why is it that God is the only one who has knowledge of good and evil. I'd like that knowledge too. If I had that knowledge I'd be in a stronger position and then I would be able to take care of myself – and not rely on God.”
Not allowing ourselves to be vulnerable to God, and the desire to be in a stronger position than even God, with the intended result of being able to “take care of ourselves” is, I believe, the root of all sin – personal and communal. When we refuse, usually out of fear, to trust God in a completely vulnerable way, we find ourselves in a state of what the Greek Church calls amartia which is a state of being off-kilter or “not right” and this can lead to our becoming ashamed of our own figurative nakedness before God. This leads to an acting out of all manner of sin, destroying any semblance of a relationship with God. This is exactly where our story of Adam and Eve picks up. Despite being given everything they could possibly need, they wanted something more, without even knowing what it was they wanted.
And so thus began a process of dehumanization that would lead to Cain murdering his brother Abel, a foretaste of the hatred, massive violence – tribe against tribe, nation against nation, torture, terrorism, and the destruction of innocent life at all stages, that would grip all of God's creation in a vice of unbearable degradation. Now, without the benefit of a Garden filled with more than enough to eat, humanity had to toil in back-breaking ways just to find enough food to survive. Poverty, disease, malaise, hopelessness, all would contribute to the dehumanization of humanity and the destruction of God's creation.
Over time, this dehumanization would take its toll on all of humanity, but there was a faithful remnant, the Jewish people who, on their good days, would remember God's faithfulness in leading them out of slavery and into a land of their own while constantly calling them to care for the widow, the orphan and the stranger among them. At times when they were not so faithful to God's call, prophets would rise up and remind their people, in no uncertain terms, that their role was to be faithful servants of God, that even in their darkest hours they were to remain faithful to God because God would guide them into a way forward. This would require the people to be once again, naked before God – vulnerable and open to God's love. To be perfect human beings.
One such person would exist in all of Israel, Mary of Nazareth. A young girl, really, who was so open and vulnerable to God that she could allow herself to believe the nearly unbelievable words of the Angel Gabriel. Unlike the Eve of the Garden, this new Eve, Mary of Nazareth, because of an intense life of prayer, would be able to stand before God totally naked, without shame and with great vulnerability. The Eastern Church is fond of telling the story about Mary spending her early years in the Temple studying the Scriptures and praying constantly. In the West, the tradition teaches that it was at home with her parents, St. Anne and St. Joachim that she learned to study the Scriptures and to constantly pray. The details don't really matter, what does matter is that Mary was able to accept God's Word as enough for her. She had so committed her life to waiting on the Lord and listening in the silence of her prayer, that when the Lord called she was able to respond “be it done to me according to your word.” And in believing that God's Word was enough for her, the Word, quite literally, became enfleshed in her.
And that is what St. Athanasius was talking about. It is the spirituality of theosis, which has been defined in several ways, but the definition that I most respond to states that theosis is the “participation in the life of God.” And for humanity to participate in the life of God, ultimately achieving full union with God, God had to act first, breaking through our atmosphere and sending his Son, Jesus the Christ, to begin the process of re-humanizing us. God's radical act of Incarnation even outdid the original act of Creation. For now, God's ultimate goal was to allow us to reclaim our perfect humanity by showing us just how holy a human being could be.
Jesus, the Son of God and equally the son of Mary would, through the power of his Incarnation, take on our flesh so that we could know what it was to be re-humanized – that is, made in the image and likeness of God as perfect human beings.
And this is why the Blessed Virgin Mary is seen as the model for monastics, and indeed for the whole Church. Mary did not leave home in order to do great things, to become a prophet or a judge of Israel. Mary prayed, ceaselessly. She waited on the Lord, with total patience. She listened, no doubt, with the ear of her heart. She allowed herself to be totally exposed to God, standing naked before the Holy Spirit with a profound level of trust in God and in the belief that God had created her to be a perfect human being. And when she did that, she then became available to the Holy Spirit, sent by God, to enflesh the Son of God in her.
At Vespers this evening, the lesson is taken from the Prologue of St. John's Gospel and begins with verse nine: “The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. To all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God.” That is why that light coming through the window of the door is so meaningful to me. With his Incarnation, Christ has broken through our atmosphere and made himself available to all God's children. This is our call: To respond to the Ultimate Love is a call to totally empty our beings of all the dehumanization that has been put on us by ourselves or others. And to put on the perfect humanity that God created us with – a humanity filled with light, a humanity that works for peace, lives justly, loves friend and foe alike, and, most of all, prays without ceasing and in total nakedness and availability before God. It is a humanity that is able, because God was willing to humble himself in the Incarnation, to respond – finally – to the invitation to love God that is offered to us so freely by God. Do that, and just wait and see how God enfleshes himself in you.
AMEN.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Lent 2 A - 20 Mar 2011
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Charles Mizelle, n/OHC
Lent 2 A - March 20, 2011
Genesis 12:1-4a
Romans 4:1-5, 13-17
John 3:1-17
Love Wins!
In the name of God who calls us to celebration, who calls us to pursue community in our world, and who calls us to compassion in the midst of all human suffering. Amen!
When you grow up in a family of Baptist preachers you hear a lot of stories from the pulpit. One of the most memorable for me was hearing W. A. Criswell preach at a preaching conference at First Baptist Church, Jacksonville, FL., my hometown. Criswell was known as the prince the preachers. He had pastored First Baptist Church in Dallas, TX for over 50 years before retiring. And the occasion of hearing him preach in my home town of Jacksonville in February 1988 turned out to be his last sermon. The story is one of simple old time religion and two mischievous boys who got ahold of the preachers Bible and glued some of its pages together. The preacher got up to the pulpit, opened his Bible, and began reading from Genesis the story of Noah. “...and in those days Noah took unto himself a wife”, then turning what he thought was one page continued reading, “and she was 15 cubits broad, 35 cubits long, made out of gopher wood, and dopped on the inside with pitch”. The preacher then held up his Bible and said “my brothers and sisters I’ve never read that before in the Word of God but if that is what the Word of God says then I believe it!” And with those words a 3000 seat church auditorium, filled with Baptist preachers from all over the country, nearly exploded as they leaped to their feet, raised their hands, applauded and shouted AMEN! to the proclamation that if God’s Word says it, it’s true. For me, there was never more powerful of a moment of what it means to be a Bible-believing, God-said-it-I-believe-it-that-settles-it, kind of Christian. And this story has remained for me a powerful example of how reading scripture literally can get you into big trouble.
And in today’s Gospel we have another example of getting into trouble through a literal hearing of the God’s Word. A Pharisee, named Nicodemus, seeks out an audience with Jesus by coming to him under the cover of night. We don’t know a whole lot about Nicodemus but the text gives us enough clues to tell us he was truly a spiritual seeker. He broke ground with his fellow Pharisees to even risk having a private conversation with Jesus and this is most likely why he came in the darkness of night. Nicodemus is a man torn in two directions. He acknowledges the divine nature of Jesus but he is also unsettled by him. His fellow Pharisees have marked Jesus as trouble and a renegade. I wouldn’t say that Jesus’ reception of his night-time visitor was exactly pastoral. Nicodemus opens the conversation by complimenting Jesus: “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God”. And Jesus responds with an off-the-wall comment completely out of left field: “I tell you know one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above”. Poor Nicodemus is knocked off center and bewildered. He exclaims “how can this be, how can you re-enter your mother’s womb and be reborn?” by which Jesus responds with a statement designed to completely destabilize Nicodemus: “no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and spirit”.
This story is our source for the phrase born-again Christian. And it is also the source of the most beloved scripture (and probably the most well-known) in all of the Bible. John 3:16 “For God so loved the world that He gave His only son.” A story and a text so familiar to us we’ve lost the ability to hear its message in our hearts. Cynthia Bourgeault calls Jesus’ statement of needing to be reborn as the Christian equivalent of the famous Zen koan, “What is the sound of one hand clapping?”.
We are only in the third chapter of John but keep reading and you’ll see that Jesus took great joy in paradox and riddle and seemed to love leaving folks scratching their heads. Our modern theologians try to put this in context by framing Jesus as a Wisdom teacher. In many ways Jesus does fit the mold of a wisdom teacher but His intent goes much deeper. Jesus’ discourse on being born again, being born of water AND spirit, and being born from above was not just targeted at Nicodemus, nor the Pharisees, nor just the first century church. It’s target was the egoic mind and the human condition. It’s target is to throw us off kilter and destabilize our tight-knit, everything-fits-into-its-proper-place world. It’s target is to force us to go back and rethink our entire understanding of who God is and how we are in relationship with God.
Jesus could have just as easily said, “Nicodemus, if you want to enter God’s Kingdom you are going to have to go back to the very beginning, back to square one, and start all over. Where is the beginning? Well in the Biblical narrative it is in Genesis, the book of beginnings, where we go from creation and God saying “it is good” to the fall of Adam and Eve. It was in the fall where man’s sense of self became separated from God’s presence, where man’s identity with God was lost and where man started to develop his own programs for happiness, fulfillment and meaning. And ever since then God has been calling us back to return to our home in God, to our identity in God, to our place of rest in God, yes, even calling us to be born again.
The difficulty for us lies in the reality that this process of being born again is not an easy one. It is so much more than a formulaic prayer designed to give us an assurance of heaven and after-life management. It is a process of transformation and conversion, here and now. It is a process that will even involve pain at times. John of the Cross called this the dark night of the soul or the night of sense. Let’s take another look at John 3:16 “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.” Believes is the key word here because it is a word of consent. What Jesus is really saying to Nicodemus is “do you give your consent for God’s work and action to transform you?” Do you say “yes” to the dying of the false self? Do you say yes to changing the direction of your life and all of the programs you’ve created to find happiness. Do you say yes to allowing God to remove the obstacles in your life that block the flow of God’s grace?
As we move with Jesus through these 40 days of Lent we will soon journey with him in the Garden of Gethsemane. It is in this Garden where Jesus prays in complete brokenness, to the point of sweating drops of blood, asking God if this “cup” can be taken away from him. What is in this “cup” that is so agonizing to Jesus? God was asking Jesus to drink from a cup that no other human would have the capacity to swallow the dregs held in that cup. All of humanities brokenness, all of the pain, all of the evil, all of the holocaust, all of apartheid, all of the Gadhafi’s and Fred Phelp’s in this world, all of the devastating earthquakes and tsunamis, all of the suffering, all of the addictions, all those who have been abused, all of the injustice of all time was in that cup and Jesus said “I’ll drink it!” Why? Because God so loved the world. That is what Jesus is saying to the Nicodemus’s in each of us: Nicodemus you can’t really hear me right now, you don’t have the capacity to understand yet what I’m saying but Easter morning is coming where you’ll come out of your dark night and into the light of day AND LOVE WINS!
Love gets the final word. Love is the consummation of this birthing process. Yes there will be grief and wounds along the birthing canal but Nicodemus will you believe? Will you say yes? Will you give your consent to God’s process of transformation and conversion? Will you be reborn?
We have good assurance that Nicodemus did say yes to Jesus’ call to new birth. We do not hear from him anymore in this dialogue but I am sure he left with much to ponder. But we’re not done with Nicodemus. He reappears in the Gospel narrative and joins Joseph of Arimathea in taking Jesus’ body down from the cross. It was Nicodemus who brought 100 pounds of spices and the linen to wrap the body of his Lord for burial. Nicodemus is no longer afraid, he is no longer moving under the cover and darkness of night. He has come into the full light of day, working openly in front of his fellow Pharisees, doing the very thing that is certain to make them very angry. They were done with Jesus. But not Nicodemus.
For God so loved the world. And God so loves the Nicodemus who lives in all of us. And in the end God’s Love wins.
Br. Charles Mizelle, n/OHC
Lent 2 A - March 20, 2011
Genesis 12:1-4a
Romans 4:1-5, 13-17
John 3:1-17
Love Wins!
In the name of God who calls us to celebration, who calls us to pursue community in our world, and who calls us to compassion in the midst of all human suffering. Amen!
When you grow up in a family of Baptist preachers you hear a lot of stories from the pulpit. One of the most memorable for me was hearing W. A. Criswell preach at a preaching conference at First Baptist Church, Jacksonville, FL., my hometown. Criswell was known as the prince the preachers. He had pastored First Baptist Church in Dallas, TX for over 50 years before retiring. And the occasion of hearing him preach in my home town of Jacksonville in February 1988 turned out to be his last sermon. The story is one of simple old time religion and two mischievous boys who got ahold of the preachers Bible and glued some of its pages together. The preacher got up to the pulpit, opened his Bible, and began reading from Genesis the story of Noah. “...and in those days Noah took unto himself a wife”, then turning what he thought was one page continued reading, “and she was 15 cubits broad, 35 cubits long, made out of gopher wood, and dopped on the inside with pitch”. The preacher then held up his Bible and said “my brothers and sisters I’ve never read that before in the Word of God but if that is what the Word of God says then I believe it!” And with those words a 3000 seat church auditorium, filled with Baptist preachers from all over the country, nearly exploded as they leaped to their feet, raised their hands, applauded and shouted AMEN! to the proclamation that if God’s Word says it, it’s true. For me, there was never more powerful of a moment of what it means to be a Bible-believing, God-said-it-I-believe-it-that-settles-it, kind of Christian. And this story has remained for me a powerful example of how reading scripture literally can get you into big trouble.
And in today’s Gospel we have another example of getting into trouble through a literal hearing of the God’s Word. A Pharisee, named Nicodemus, seeks out an audience with Jesus by coming to him under the cover of night. We don’t know a whole lot about Nicodemus but the text gives us enough clues to tell us he was truly a spiritual seeker. He broke ground with his fellow Pharisees to even risk having a private conversation with Jesus and this is most likely why he came in the darkness of night. Nicodemus is a man torn in two directions. He acknowledges the divine nature of Jesus but he is also unsettled by him. His fellow Pharisees have marked Jesus as trouble and a renegade. I wouldn’t say that Jesus’ reception of his night-time visitor was exactly pastoral. Nicodemus opens the conversation by complimenting Jesus: “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God”. And Jesus responds with an off-the-wall comment completely out of left field: “I tell you know one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above”. Poor Nicodemus is knocked off center and bewildered. He exclaims “how can this be, how can you re-enter your mother’s womb and be reborn?” by which Jesus responds with a statement designed to completely destabilize Nicodemus: “no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and spirit”.
This story is our source for the phrase born-again Christian. And it is also the source of the most beloved scripture (and probably the most well-known) in all of the Bible. John 3:16 “For God so loved the world that He gave His only son.” A story and a text so familiar to us we’ve lost the ability to hear its message in our hearts. Cynthia Bourgeault calls Jesus’ statement of needing to be reborn as the Christian equivalent of the famous Zen koan, “What is the sound of one hand clapping?”.
We are only in the third chapter of John but keep reading and you’ll see that Jesus took great joy in paradox and riddle and seemed to love leaving folks scratching their heads. Our modern theologians try to put this in context by framing Jesus as a Wisdom teacher. In many ways Jesus does fit the mold of a wisdom teacher but His intent goes much deeper. Jesus’ discourse on being born again, being born of water AND spirit, and being born from above was not just targeted at Nicodemus, nor the Pharisees, nor just the first century church. It’s target was the egoic mind and the human condition. It’s target is to throw us off kilter and destabilize our tight-knit, everything-fits-into-its-proper-place world. It’s target is to force us to go back and rethink our entire understanding of who God is and how we are in relationship with God.
Jesus could have just as easily said, “Nicodemus, if you want to enter God’s Kingdom you are going to have to go back to the very beginning, back to square one, and start all over. Where is the beginning? Well in the Biblical narrative it is in Genesis, the book of beginnings, where we go from creation and God saying “it is good” to the fall of Adam and Eve. It was in the fall where man’s sense of self became separated from God’s presence, where man’s identity with God was lost and where man started to develop his own programs for happiness, fulfillment and meaning. And ever since then God has been calling us back to return to our home in God, to our identity in God, to our place of rest in God, yes, even calling us to be born again.
The difficulty for us lies in the reality that this process of being born again is not an easy one. It is so much more than a formulaic prayer designed to give us an assurance of heaven and after-life management. It is a process of transformation and conversion, here and now. It is a process that will even involve pain at times. John of the Cross called this the dark night of the soul or the night of sense. Let’s take another look at John 3:16 “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.” Believes is the key word here because it is a word of consent. What Jesus is really saying to Nicodemus is “do you give your consent for God’s work and action to transform you?” Do you say “yes” to the dying of the false self? Do you say yes to changing the direction of your life and all of the programs you’ve created to find happiness. Do you say yes to allowing God to remove the obstacles in your life that block the flow of God’s grace?
As we move with Jesus through these 40 days of Lent we will soon journey with him in the Garden of Gethsemane. It is in this Garden where Jesus prays in complete brokenness, to the point of sweating drops of blood, asking God if this “cup” can be taken away from him. What is in this “cup” that is so agonizing to Jesus? God was asking Jesus to drink from a cup that no other human would have the capacity to swallow the dregs held in that cup. All of humanities brokenness, all of the pain, all of the evil, all of the holocaust, all of apartheid, all of the Gadhafi’s and Fred Phelp’s in this world, all of the devastating earthquakes and tsunamis, all of the suffering, all of the addictions, all those who have been abused, all of the injustice of all time was in that cup and Jesus said “I’ll drink it!” Why? Because God so loved the world. That is what Jesus is saying to the Nicodemus’s in each of us: Nicodemus you can’t really hear me right now, you don’t have the capacity to understand yet what I’m saying but Easter morning is coming where you’ll come out of your dark night and into the light of day AND LOVE WINS!
Love gets the final word. Love is the consummation of this birthing process. Yes there will be grief and wounds along the birthing canal but Nicodemus will you believe? Will you say yes? Will you give your consent to God’s process of transformation and conversion? Will you be reborn?
We have good assurance that Nicodemus did say yes to Jesus’ call to new birth. We do not hear from him anymore in this dialogue but I am sure he left with much to ponder. But we’re not done with Nicodemus. He reappears in the Gospel narrative and joins Joseph of Arimathea in taking Jesus’ body down from the cross. It was Nicodemus who brought 100 pounds of spices and the linen to wrap the body of his Lord for burial. Nicodemus is no longer afraid, he is no longer moving under the cover and darkness of night. He has come into the full light of day, working openly in front of his fellow Pharisees, doing the very thing that is certain to make them very angry. They were done with Jesus. But not Nicodemus.
For God so loved the world. And God so loves the Nicodemus who lives in all of us. And in the end God’s Love wins.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Lent 1 A - 13 Mar 2011
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Andrew Colquhoun, OHC
Lent 1A - March 13, 2011
Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7
Romans 5:12-19
Matthew 4:1-11
We used to tell a story in Scotland of the minister who was preaching to his flock… “There you are, you miserable sinners. The day will come when you sinners are roasting in the terrible flames of hell and you will look up to God and say, ‘O Lord, we didna know; we didna ken.’ And the Lord in his infinite love and mercy will look down upon you and will say, “Aye, well ye know now!”
I must own to a feeling that so often this is the message we present in Lent- even unconsciously - Of a need to placate a God whose judgment is harsh and demanding. If I meditate on my evil ways and wretchedness with enough fervor and self-denial, I can be ready for redemption – my readiness depends on me and my efforts.
We latch on to this from our first reading today – it seems to set the stage. Adam, Eve and the subtle, evil serpent… the tree of the knowledge of good and evil – and the apple. Because of the sin we’re all neck deep in trouble.
But the creation story in Genesis doesn’t talk about evil in Hebrew – that’s English. What the story talks about is the choice between Tov and Ra. And that’s quite different.
Tov is good as in “pleasant” – Mazel Tov/Good luck – not really morally good. It’s the also the inner voice that calls us always into community with God – into right relationship with the Creator and one another.
Ra is more difficult to define, because there are many different ideas about it. It is not a desire to do evil in the way we normally think of it in Western society: a desire to cause senseless harm. It’s more the desire to satisfy personal needs (food, shelter, sex, etc.) without regard for the moral consequences of fulfilling those desires.
Ra is not a bad thing. It was created by God, and all things created by God are good. The Talmud says that without the ra (the desire to satisfy personal needs), “man would not build a house, marry a wife, beget children or conduct business affairs.” But the choice of ra can lead to wrongdoing when it is not controlled by tov. A bit confusing? But in a nutshell it would say that while there is nothing inherently wrong with hunger, it can lead you to steal food or into greed.
People have the ability to choose which impulse to follow: the tov or the ra.”
So choosing the ra means that I come first – my needs, even if they are absolutely fair needs, can make me choose away from God. The choice doesn’t necessarily imply that I will do evil things; the choice means that I forget who I am. The crafty serpent says, “You will be like Gods”, and that’s too much to resist. It was too much for the new humans who in the story didn’t even know what it was to be human; it’s too much for me. And so the story goes on – humanity, made in God’s image, choosing something less; choosing to be small Gods; moving from the Center to emptiness and shame. Denying their humanity, they look at one another and see only shame. And there follows the story of our struggle and wanderings in the wilderness of choosing to be less that God created us to be. Through exile and God’s longing; through the prophets and the wisdom words, God calls and calls us back.
And Paul points us to the fact that we are in a pickle not because God put us there but because we continually choose distance and separation. By one person the separation was chosen… we choose it.
So we come back to the infinite love and mercy our Scottish preacher fumbled so badly…God acts and Jesus, the God/Man calls us another way. Jesus brings us by love into a new life. And by his faithful obedience and choosing he opens the way for me to choose again – to live in Tov.
In the Gospel, the tempter, the tantalizer, offers the same thing the serpent offered the first human… “Come on, be like God… change these stones; take charge of the world; use some flash, some glamour. Choose!” And Jesus says “No” – he chooses – as he will all the way – he chooses to be true to who he is. The True Man… the true image of the Father. The one who listens and says, “Yes!” And he calls us – his ragtag army right away from selfish self-protection into the dangerous ground of Love. Right to the needs of the hungry, the least of these. Right into the wideness of God’s mercy and love.
Perhaps this Lent we can choose aright. Perhaps this Lent we can give up our self-absorption and offer the fast that God has pleaded for. Perhaps, as true humanity we can touch the untouchables; feed the ones who are starving because of our carelessness; give up some of our amplitude to the ones we have diminished by our choosing ourselves over God’s aching, loving heart. Perhaps when the sun rises on Easter, we can embrace the light and stand naked and pure and not ashamed any more.And God in infinite love and tenderness can look at us and say - Ah, well you know now!
Br. Andrew Colquhoun, OHC
Lent 1A - March 13, 2011
Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7
Romans 5:12-19
Matthew 4:1-11
We used to tell a story in Scotland of the minister who was preaching to his flock… “There you are, you miserable sinners. The day will come when you sinners are roasting in the terrible flames of hell and you will look up to God and say, ‘O Lord, we didna know; we didna ken.’ And the Lord in his infinite love and mercy will look down upon you and will say, “Aye, well ye know now!”
I must own to a feeling that so often this is the message we present in Lent- even unconsciously - Of a need to placate a God whose judgment is harsh and demanding. If I meditate on my evil ways and wretchedness with enough fervor and self-denial, I can be ready for redemption – my readiness depends on me and my efforts.
We latch on to this from our first reading today – it seems to set the stage. Adam, Eve and the subtle, evil serpent… the tree of the knowledge of good and evil – and the apple. Because of the sin we’re all neck deep in trouble.
But the creation story in Genesis doesn’t talk about evil in Hebrew – that’s English. What the story talks about is the choice between Tov and Ra. And that’s quite different.
Tov is good as in “pleasant” – Mazel Tov/Good luck – not really morally good. It’s the also the inner voice that calls us always into community with God – into right relationship with the Creator and one another.
Ra is more difficult to define, because there are many different ideas about it. It is not a desire to do evil in the way we normally think of it in Western society: a desire to cause senseless harm. It’s more the desire to satisfy personal needs (food, shelter, sex, etc.) without regard for the moral consequences of fulfilling those desires.
Ra is not a bad thing. It was created by God, and all things created by God are good. The Talmud says that without the ra (the desire to satisfy personal needs), “man would not build a house, marry a wife, beget children or conduct business affairs.” But the choice of ra can lead to wrongdoing when it is not controlled by tov. A bit confusing? But in a nutshell it would say that while there is nothing inherently wrong with hunger, it can lead you to steal food or into greed.
People have the ability to choose which impulse to follow: the tov or the ra.”
So choosing the ra means that I come first – my needs, even if they are absolutely fair needs, can make me choose away from God. The choice doesn’t necessarily imply that I will do evil things; the choice means that I forget who I am. The crafty serpent says, “You will be like Gods”, and that’s too much to resist. It was too much for the new humans who in the story didn’t even know what it was to be human; it’s too much for me. And so the story goes on – humanity, made in God’s image, choosing something less; choosing to be small Gods; moving from the Center to emptiness and shame. Denying their humanity, they look at one another and see only shame. And there follows the story of our struggle and wanderings in the wilderness of choosing to be less that God created us to be. Through exile and God’s longing; through the prophets and the wisdom words, God calls and calls us back.
And Paul points us to the fact that we are in a pickle not because God put us there but because we continually choose distance and separation. By one person the separation was chosen… we choose it.
So we come back to the infinite love and mercy our Scottish preacher fumbled so badly…God acts and Jesus, the God/Man calls us another way. Jesus brings us by love into a new life. And by his faithful obedience and choosing he opens the way for me to choose again – to live in Tov.
In the Gospel, the tempter, the tantalizer, offers the same thing the serpent offered the first human… “Come on, be like God… change these stones; take charge of the world; use some flash, some glamour. Choose!” And Jesus says “No” – he chooses – as he will all the way – he chooses to be true to who he is. The True Man… the true image of the Father. The one who listens and says, “Yes!” And he calls us – his ragtag army right away from selfish self-protection into the dangerous ground of Love. Right to the needs of the hungry, the least of these. Right into the wideness of God’s mercy and love.
Perhaps this Lent we can choose aright. Perhaps this Lent we can give up our self-absorption and offer the fast that God has pleaded for. Perhaps, as true humanity we can touch the untouchables; feed the ones who are starving because of our carelessness; give up some of our amplitude to the ones we have diminished by our choosing ourselves over God’s aching, loving heart. Perhaps when the sun rises on Easter, we can embrace the light and stand naked and pure and not ashamed any more.And God in infinite love and tenderness can look at us and say - Ah, well you know now!
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