Proper 25- Year A- October 29, 2017

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Aidan Owen, OHC

Proper 25 - Sunday,October 29,2017

NEW! Listen to Br. Aidan preaching

Br. Aidan Owen 

In the end the only thing that matters is love.  To hear the sermon in its fullness click here.
  

Proper 24- Year A- October 22, 2017

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Bob Pierson, OHC

Proper 24 - Sunday,October 22,2017


NEW! Listen to Br. Bob preaching

Br. Bob Pierson 

I have often heard it said that if one wants to avoid contentious conversation, one should avoid the topics of “religion” and “politics”.  Both topics can lead people into a defense of their very strongly held opinions, and when there is a disagreement, it’s very hard for some people to “agree to disagree.”

That might be true, but today’s Scripture readings really don’t allow us to avoid talking about religion and politics. In Jesus’ statement, “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and give to God what is God’s,” we are led to the obvious questions, “Just what does belong to Caesar, and what belongs to God?”

The situation in which Jesus finds himself is a classic trap.  The strict religion of the Pharisees teams up with the Herodians, who are Jewish collaborators with the Roman occupation.  A direct answer to the question they pose to Jesus, “Is it lawful to pay taxes or not?” will get him in trouble with one group or the other.  They think they’ve got him; there’s no way he can get out of this one.

Surprise!  Surprise!  Jesus responds brilliantly to their question by asking to see a Roman coin.  He knows who’s head in depicted on the coin, and he knows the inscription, which is a declaration of the divinity of the emperor.  No good Jew would even carry such a coin, but the fact that someone is able to produce one already compromises his opponents.  In saying “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s” Jesus is acknowledging the legitimate right of the state to collect taxes, while at the same time reminding his listeners that no human government has unlimited power and control in the reign of God.

The debate over people’s loyalty and allegiance between God’s authority and human authority has been going on for centuries.  Many rulers down through the years have tried to claim a “divine right” to their authority, alleging that the fact that they are in power is a sign of God’s support of them and their authority.  Obedience to the ruler is in fact obedience to God.  It almost sounds like that’s what going on in the first reading we heard today from the prophet Isaiah.  Cyrus, the king of Persia, defeated the Babylonians, and decided to let the exiles from Israel return to their own land.  Isaiah saw God’s hand in all of it, acknowledging that God was using Cyrus to save the people of Israel, even though Cyrus knew nothing about their God.  Cyrus was a pagan ruler, but he was acting according to God’s purpose.

Even today we find people who allege that their rulers are really appointed by God.  Some evangelical Christians believe that our current administration is empowered by God to clean up America and get us back on track.  Of course, there are just as many, if not more, people who believe just the opposite.  How do we discern where authority comes from, and what we are obligated to do as a response?  Is “My country, right or wrong,” an appropriate response for Christians to take?

I believe the answer to that question is “no” because we have plenty of evidence from history to show that governments can really get it wrong, and sometimes people need to stand up and resist the people in control if they want to be doing the right thing.  The most obvious example from history, of course, is Nazi Germany.  How different things may have been if enough people had refused to go along with what their government was doing.  Just because something is legal does not mean that it’s morally right.  And today, we hold in esteem those who risked their lives to resist the Nazi regime as heroes.  There were several people who resisted, either behind the scenes or directly. 

One of those who resisted behind the scenes was Irena Sendler, who smuggled 2,500 Jewish children out of the ghetto before they could be sent to the extermination camps.  Eventually she was caught, and sentenced to death, but she managed to escape.  And she continued to work to oppose her government and its immoral laws.  She died just a few years ago.  A second person who resisted openly was Franz Jaegerstaeter, an Austrian husband and father who refused to serve in the German army.  Even after his wife and his bishop tried to convince him that it was OK to serve, he refused, citing his belief that war was wrong, and as a Christian he could not participate.  He was arrested and killed, but he did not capitulate to the fear that moved so many others to fight rather than be killed themselves.

So where does that leave us today?  The point that Jesus is making is that no human government can claim absolute authority over our lives.  While we have an obligation to be law abiding citizens, working for the common good of all, we also have an obligation to resist when governments make unjust laws, laws that hurt people rather than promote the common good.  It takes discernment to figure out when one is called to resistance, and we don’t take that position easily. But in the end, “giving God what is God’s” means obeying God’s law of love when human laws are against it.  When you get right down to it, what could belong to Caesar that does not already belong to God?  As the psalmist says, “The earth is the Lord’s and all it holds, the world and those who dwell in it.”  Psalm 24:1

Proper 23 A- October 15, 2017

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Robert James Magliula, OHC

Proper 23 A - Sunday October 15,2017

NEW! Listen to Br. Robert preaching

Robert James Magliula 

The Gospel this week conjures up the unexpected, and also the confusing. This is the second of two parables in which Jesus teaches his audience to expect the judgement that awaits those who decline God’s persistent invitation to practice the ethics of the kingdom. The parable starts out in a rather normal way, but quickly takes a bizarre turn. There’s a reason for it. Matthew brings his own intentions to bear in the story. 

A simpler, perhaps earlier, version of this parable is found in the Gospels of Luke (Ch.14) and Thomas (Logion 64). The probable allusion to the destruction of Jerusalem suggests Matthew’s attempt to pull Jesus’ teachings forward into the new circumstances that have taken a heavy toll on his community. The terrible images of a destroyed city, a desecrated holy place, and a crucified humanity, have been burned into their minds. These are also the daily images that pass before our own eyes.

Matthew moves from parable into allegory with a more exaggerated set of circumstances: an invitation to a royal wedding extended to assorted guests who---to a person---not only decline but violently fend off the invitation to the point of provoking war. No sooner are substitute guests persuaded to attend the banquet than one is called out for being underdressed for the occasion to which he could not have expected to be invited. The urgency of the warning surpasses the logic of the narrative.

We’re confronted with outrageous behavior on all sides, not only by our standards, but especially in the culture of Jesus' day, with it’s sacred duty of hospitality. It would have been unforgivable for guests or hosts to behave in this way, even in the original parable.

Jesus often made unusual and uncomfortable comparisons in his parables to challenge the assumptions of his listeners. We are as confused, and surprised by this story, as those who first heard it. We don’t know what to do with those scriptures which reverse the rules as we know them,  especially challenging our conceptions about who is in and who is out. The temptation is to ignore them, or explain them away. We get the connection between the kingdom and people being invited in from the streets, but then there is the unexpected and extreme behavior of the king toward one of the guests. 

There's a way of understanding this story, of taking it seriously and to heart, without taking it literally.  Yes, it is deliberately provocative by challenging our preconceived ideas about God and God’s kingdom.  It is telling us that it will be like nothing we can imagine.  It reminds us that our knowledge and understanding are limited.  Even though we are made in God’s image, we are not God.  The most we can hope for in this lifetime are glimpses of the kingdom—through story and scripture, through our prayer and experiences.  If we are open to the Spirit, if we listen and pay attention, we can catch a glimpse of the kingdom.

I think that Matthew used this story about the kingdom for more than shock value. He wanted to expand people’s perceptions and ground them in the circumstances they faced.  He was not saying that the kingdom is like the king or the banquet or the guests.  He is saying that the kingdom of heaven is beyond our expectations, beyond our assumptions, beyond what we can analyze and think through. It is always more than what we can see, that God will always surprise us, will always confront us with the unexpected. The point is for us to try to be open to more, not just to rest in the comfortable assumption that we know all about God.

In converting the parable to an allegory, Matthew is telling us what he sees as the central movements of God's actions for us. He insists that the host will go to great lengths, and look in improbable places, to extend invitations to all. He insists that the only sufficient credential for a place at the table is a transformed life. He intimates that not all who believe themselves as guests at God’s banquet actually belong there. The unrobed wedding guest does not show the fruits of living as a guest at the banquet of grace. His downfall comes the moment when asked by the host to account for the way he appears, he is speechless. Gospel living only begins with the invitation that goes out to all. It cannot remain a mere idea. It requires a transformed life, living in a new way, as those who put on Christ. This can seen as a wedding garment, or a baptismal garment, so that the outward effects of Gospel choices will finally settle in the heart.

Within the Christian community there are a range of responses to the invitation. Some want the safe, soft, side of discipleship. Some shy away from the more difficult inner and outer work of practicing love for self and others. Some want the blessings but do not share in the concrete work of service through outreach and social justice. Many are silent and speechless. God comes to us in surprising and unexpected ways which always unsettle us and unmask our fearfulness of life and love.

Throughout Scripture the table serves as a metaphor or word of hope even in the midst of harsh circumstances. Isaiah’s proclamation gives us a glimpse of God’s desire for all gathered together as one. The abundance and inclusivity of this vision are dramatically different from our living from scarcity and fear. God invites us to partner in this vision in our lives. Transformation comes in willing what God wills. The parable leaves us to ponder the question: “How do we appear?”  

Proper 21- Year A- October 8, 2017

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY

Br. Josép R. Martínez-Cubero,OHC

Proper 21- Sunday, October 8, 2017

Br. Josép R. Martínez-Cubero, OHC

The vineyard in both, the Old Testament reading, and the gospel lesson this morning is a common image for Israel.  The Old Testament reading from Isaiah is known as the "Song of the Vineyard." In it, it is the vineyard itself, which is seen to be at fault. God planted grapes, but kept getting "wild grapes" instead. In today's gospel reading, it is not the vineyard itself that is flawed, but rather the leadership that has failed.

In the parable, the plotting of the tenants seems to be the following: If the landlord dies without an heir, the tenants would have a claim to the land. The son showing up at the vineyard is taken as a sign that the landlord has died. Kill the son and the vineyard is theirs.  But the landlord, who is still alive, says: "They will respect my son." Matthew connects the violence to the circumstances of Jesus' own death. The tenants throw the son out of the vineyard, which is a metaphor for Jesus being crucified on a cross outside the walls of Jerusalem. Jesus asks the chief priests and scribes what would the landlord do to the wicked tenants? "He will put those wretches to a miserable death," they say, soon realizing that they have pronounced their own judgment. It is their judgment, not God’s.

Our God is a God of grace, and does not exclude anyone from the Kingdom. We do it to ourselves. We do it every time we struggle with self-condemnation or question whether we’re enough. We exclude ourselves from God’s grace every time we have to be in control, be right, or have all the answers. We do it every time we carry grudges, anger, or resentment. We do it every time we make judgments about others’ belief, choices, or lifestyles. We exclude ourselves from God’s grace every time we let our egos get in the way and we choose not to do the work of reconciliation and healing. We do it every time we sleepwalk through life without really being present or showing up. We do it when we choose to engage in more criticism and cynicism than thanksgiving and celebration. We exclude ourselves from God’s grace every time we hang on to old guilt that we believe cannot be forgiven.

This parable holds a mirror before us that makes us recognize in ourselves, and calls us to recover from the places of our self-exclusion. To produce the fruits of the Kingdom means to follow the teachings of Jesus, which affirm the equality of all, and the dignity of every human being. To produce the fruits of the Kingdom we must be stewards of God’s creation, to care for the poor, and advocate for justice that will bear peace. The fruits of the Kingdom are love, mercy, forgiveness, kindness, compassion, reconciliation, self-surrender, joy, thanksgiving, peace, obedience, humility. These are not abstract ideas, but lived realities in the vineyards of our lives. And those vineyards are the people, relationships, circumstances, and events of our lives. They are the vineyards in which we are to reveal the presence of the living God- a loving, patient, and forgiving God whose abundant grace is freely given.

So, how are we doing caring for the vineyards of our lives these days? Before we start pointing the finger and casting blame on the easy targets around us in our lives, we need to take a long hard look at ourselves. Just how are we doing in our tending of the Kingdom of Heaven? Is it bearing fruit? Is it life giving? We are tenants. Let us care for God’s creation with the Beatitudes as our gardening tools. ~¡Que así sea! Amen+

_________________
References:
John Dominic Crossan, The Power of Parable (Harper One, 2013)Robert Farrar Kingdom, Grace, Judgement: Paradox, Outrage, and Vindication in the Parables of Jesus (Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing, 2002) Bruce J. Malina, Richard L. Rohrbaugh, Social-Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels (Fortress Press, Second Edition, 2003

Feast of the Dedication of St Augustine’s Church- October 4, 2017

Br. Bernard Delcourt, OHC
Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Feast of the Dedication of St Augustine’s Church
Tuesday October 4, 2017

Br. Bernard Delcourt, OHC

Genesis 28:10-17
First Peter 2:1-5, 9-10
Matthew 21: 12-16
 
“How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven” says Jacob.
 
This church of St Augustine is awesome indeed. Not only is it a pretty nice piece of architecture by Ralph Adams Cram but it has been this monastery’s main sanctuary for 96 years today.
 
In 96 years, it has seen generations of monks worship, pray and chant within its walls. Several dozens of our Holy Cross brothers have preceded us here. Many stayed till they were stationed to another house of this order or until they were stationed to heaven.
 
More men tried their vocation here and found that God did not call them here but took the experience with them for the rest of their lives.
 
In 96 years, this church has seen thousands upon thousands of visitors worship with the monks. Over 10,000 hours of worship drench its walls with prayer and chanting. That’s as if we started chanting now and kept going 24/7 until Christmas 2018.
 
As Brother Ronald Haynes of blessed memory liked to say, this church is a thin place - indeed he said this of the whole monastery. A thin place is a Celtic Christian term for those rare locales where the distance between heaven and Earth collapses. It is a place where the separation of Earth and heaven is worn thin like a veil by the passage of prayer from Earth to heaven.
 
Places like these are precious. They teach us in the nearness of God. Eventually, we take the conscience of that nearness with us wherever we go. The whole Earth, the whole Universe becomes a thin place to us. But many of us need places like these to teach us that, to attune us to that reality.
 
“How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.”
 
This is also a place of enduring love. It is a place where day after day, God’s love is manifested in the Eucharist. And in between masses, the consecrated elements are reserved in our tabernacle to remind us of the ever present God and his all-giving love.
 
By the way, make sure to visit our new tabernacle and pay your respect to Jesus there. It was consecrated this past Friday and is a work of beauty that echoes many decorative motifs of this church.
 
This church is a place where visitors and residents alike bring their own selves to God and offer their love in worship and prayer. If all goes well, they eventually realize that their own heart is God’s preferred tabernacle and God never leaves it empty.
 
Tabernacles are supposed to be portable. It should be possible to take it from place to place along our communal journey. Hearts are the ultimate in portability. God goes along wherever we go. And while we are there, we encounter the image of God in one another. This happens here too.  For example, we recognize our mutual participation in the divinity at the exchange of the peace.

If all goes well in this awesome place, visitors and monks alike take what they receive in this church into the world and they become aware that the whole universe is Eucharist.
 
“How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.”
 
May your body visit this church often. May your heart open and your soul be nourished deeply here. And may you take what you receive here to all the places of your lives.
 
As the coordinator of our capital campaign, I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you that this church will be an important focus of our upcoming fund-raising. We want to make this church ever more welcoming. Look out for our capital campaign brochure and video in the weeks to come.

We give thanks to God for this 96-year young church of St Augustine. Yes, thanks be to God. And may it nurture monks and guests alike for many generations to come.
 
Amen.

Proper 21- Year A - Sunday October 1,2017

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. John Forbis, OHC
Proper 21 -Year A  - Sunday October 1,2017 

 Br. John Forbis, OHC

So, prostitutes and tax collectors will get into heaven before the very people who claim and others who claim them to be righteous.  Well, that doesn’t necessarily give me much reassurance.

If extortionists and those who sell their bodies are getting into heaven before me, I may never get there, since I am neither one of these. 

Then, Jesus responds, “Oh really?!?!?” 

If I were to be honest with myself and you (and I am not often), I could come up with many ways in which I have prostituted myself and others both subtly and not so subtly.  I could also dig up ways in which I was and am colluding with and benefitting from criminal behavior in our world.  When much of it has occurred in the places and communities where I lived, I kept silent about them.  So I’m lost.


 
And Jesus says again, “Oh really?!?!?”
 
He teaches us about a God who longs for us to turn to him, especially when we feel lost and hopeless about deserving any kind of redemption.  His cry is for us to turn and live. The problem with the Chief priests and the elders in the Temple with whom he was speaking is that they felt their righteousness was beyond reproach.  They were beyond a God who is merciful, and they were beyond that need for mercy.  They are dead already as long as they cling to this insistence.
 
In much of his teaching and actions, I sense that Jesus does not condemn prostitution and criminality as much as self-righteousness.  It is the kind of self-righteousness that will not enter through the door of salvation and join the party.  The invitation is issued to them as well as prostitutes and tax collectors.  In the end, we are all the same.  We just delude ourselves into thinking we aren’t.  But most importantly we are in this together.
 
As we read in Ezekiel, those who strive to remain righteous through getting it all right saying and doing the right things ritually and lawfully only can betray themselves.  How? By assuming that they deserve God’s love and redemption more because of their faultlessness.  God is not remotely interested in perfectionism.  God’s interest is in humanity, all its messiness and complexity.    
 
The invitation is offered to those who muddle through as best as they can and are able to turn to God when it all goes wrong.  And I could easily respond, “Oh, really!?!?!?”  And Jesus persists, “Really.” 
 
Yet, once we get to the table, we will have to face the fact that whores and crooks are there and may have even been there before us.  The Israelites protest that’s not fair.  But as we heard affirmed for us last week by Brother Bob, no, God isn’t fair.  God’s grace is wider than fair, wider than us and our own prejudices and our own righteousness.  God’s grace is for all God’s people.  And yes, that even includes you and me.  Amen.