Sunday, September 30, 2018

Proper 21, Year B: Sunday, September 30, 2018

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Josép R. Martínez-Cubero, OHC
Proper 21- Sunday, September 30, 2018


To hear the sermon in its fullness click here.


Br. Josép Martínez-Cubero, OHC 
I love this gospel lesson! We have exorcists, demons, drowning, amputations, and hell! And I love Jesus in this passage. Talk about fully human! You can tell he is dealing with disciples who are very young, and it appears he has had it with them not getting it!

 “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him because he was not following us.” (One wonders what they were expecting Jesus’ response to be?) This happens almost immediately after Jesus rebuked their earlier arguments about which of them is the greatest. 

It seems that all Jesus’ rebuke did was to encourage them to stop competing with each other so that they could compete together against those outside the group.
 
This particular section of Mark’s Gospel reflects some conflicts between early Christian communities. Mark frames this part of his narrative to address some of the problems his community is having with other Christians. The early Christian church wasn’t all united in their beliefs… (Hmm) Sometimes Christians clashed with each other… (Hmm!) Occasionally, Christians criticized one another very harshly over differences in practice… (Hmmm, sounds familiar?) Mark’s audience would have recognized themselves in the disciples' finger-pointing, and their sense of competition over who can use Jesus' name, who is right, and who has authority.
 
For Mark, Christian identity is defined, not by finger-pointing other Christians, and not by taking the role of victim when persecuted or criticized in order to excuse payback, and punishment. Instead, Christian community is to be defined by responding to Jesus’ call to care for the vulnerable, to welcome the stranger, and to avoid those things that are destructive to self, neighbor, and community. In this is rooted our identity as Jesus’ disciples, to love God and neighbor. Our identity as people of God is not something we attain, but something we receive as a gift. We are called to live in gratitude as the blessed people of God, and we are to point people toward God through our example.
 
Calling evil what evil is, is an act of love. Demonizing is not. Judgment belongs not to us but to God. Finger-pointing will not get far with Jesus. While the disciples are eager to bring judgment on the outsider who is acting in Jesus' name, Jesus wants the disciples to pay attention instead to their own behavior and warns them that they are the ones in danger of doing harm. It's as though Jesus says, "The problem is not the folks outside our group. Don't worry about them. Look at yourselves. How are you getting in the way of the gospel? How are you a stumbling block?" It is better to cut off your hand, your foot or pull out your eye if it’s causing you to stumble than to go to hell.
 
A very important point here is that the Greek term translated as hell is really "Gehenna," the Valley of Hinnom.  This is the place where the population of Israel burned its trash. The story is that so much trash was burned there that the fires never seem to go out. But before that, it was the valley where the dead soldiers used to be piled up during war, and where the bodies of executed criminals were disposed of. It was also the place where centuries before Jesus, child sacrifices were performed by the followers of the Canaanite god Moloch. (Jeremiah 7)
 
So, Jesus here is not talking about Dante’s Inferno. He is referring to the way we shut off ourselves from God’s Reign here on earth when we alienate ourselves from God and one another or when we see nothing but threats from outside our community, threats from people outside our control, threats we want to stop. As many of us saw on Thursday with the Kavanaugh/Ford Hearings, this kind of hell happens in our public discourse. It also happens when we scapegoat Muslims, foreigners, people of color, LGBTQ people, democrats, republicans, and the list goes on. We can hear it in our communities when we blame what’s wrong in our cities and towns on racial or ethnic or religious differences. Every time we draw a line between others and ourselves we will find Jesus on the other side. Jesus is always with the outsiders. The poem by Edwin Markham goes like this:
 
He drew a circle that shut me out —Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.But Love and I had the wit to win:We drew a circle that took him in!
 
Jesus warns that the tendency to scapegoat others, and to blame others, and to name the sins of others is the very path the leads to Gehenna- the place where the casualties of our scapegoating pile-up, the place that symbolizes the worst that humans choose to do to one another. I’m not convinced it is a place in the afterlife. If there was really an eternal realm where demons executed grim punishment on people for their sins, hell would be over-flowing with people and heaven would be empty. As Lutheran pastor Nadia Boltz-Weber puts it, “We are all saints and sinners.” The Scriptures make very clear that God loves the whole world and seeks to restore everyone to right relationship. In the fullness of time, instead of condemning us to hell, God will love the hell out of us. Que así sea en el nombre del Padre, del Hijo y del Espíritu Santo. ~Amen+

 
References:


  1. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor (General Editors), Feasting on the Word, Year B Volume 4 (Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, KY 2011)
  2. Bruce J. Malina, Richard L. Rohrbaugh, Social-Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels (Fortress Press, Second Edition, 2003
  3. Edwin Marham, Outwitted (Poem)

 

 

Saturday, September 29, 2018

Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels - Year B: September 29, 2018

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Robert Sevensky, OHC
Saint Michael and All Angels- Saturday, September 29, 2018

To hear the sermon in its fullness click here.

Br. Robert Sevensky, OHC 
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." - Hamlet . . . .

Sunday, September 23, 2018

Proper 20, Year B: Sunday, September 23, 2018

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Richard Vaggione , OHC
Proper 20, Year B- Sunday, September 23, 2018


To hear the sermon in its fullness click here.

Br. Richard Vaggione, OHC
"How do we exercise power?". . .

Sunday, September 16, 2018

Proper 19, Year B: Sunday, September 16, 2018

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Robert James Magliula, OHC
Proper 19-  Sunday, September 16, 2018




Sorry, no audio recording of this sermon is available.
Br. Robert James Magliula
The Gospel offers the startling and inexplicable claim that Jesus of Nazareth is both human being and God incarnate. This “scandal of particularity”, as it’s called, is the claim we encounter in today’s passage from Mark. The one who came as the great liberator, the Messiah, must suffer rejection, humiliation, torture, and death at the hands of the religious and civil authorities. Jesus insists that “he must undergo great suffering”. For Jesus to bring full humanity into communion with God, he must bear the fullness of the human experience, including suffering and death.



The shadow of war between the Jews and Rome loomed over Mark’s community. When Mark wrote his Gospel, Jesus had clearly not freed them from Roman oppression and domination. Mark sets this story in Caesarea Philippi, a center of Roman colonial presence on the northern fringes of Galilee. The scene takes place sometime after Jesus had taken up with his disciples. Jesus asks the disciples what they have heard people say about who he is. Then he moves to the critical question: “Who do you say that I am?” When Peter calls Jesus the Messiah, he may have right title but the wrong understanding of what that title means for Jesus.

 We bring our humanity to our relationship with Jesus. We humans think as humans. We see him as one who will support and sustain our wants and desires and enable us to become what we want to become. If we’re honest with ourselves, we prefer Peter’s interpretation of Messiah, and we make the same protest. We want a God who will spare us from suffering and death, who will spare us the painful fullness of the human experience. But Jesus’ word to Peter and to us is that we must expand our perspective. The final scandal of this passage is Jesus’ call for his disciples to follow him on this path.


The domestication of Jesus as the Christ makes it hard to be shocked by Peter’s declaration and Jesus’ teaching about the nature of the messiah and the meaning of discipleship. Only when we’ve grasped the true meaning are we in a place to hear his call to follow. Mark, in the course of his Gospel, had Jesus clarify this to the disciples three times, and they still resisted it.  The call to discipleship is more than a lack of concern for earthly matters or a call to radical social reform. It is participation in the pattern of the suffering Messiah. Mark intended this text to move his hearers beyond information and explanation to commitment.


Our human freedom depends on knowing ourselves----which includes recognizing our limitations and what is incomplete in us. Our knowledge of our poverty can become an experience of God’s grace, mercy, forgiveness, and love. Knowing ourselves without knowing God leads to desperation and knowing God without knowing ourselves produces arrogance.


In our first lesson from Proverbs, Wisdom issues a similar warning to that of Wisdom Incarnate in the Gospel. Wisdom’s language is a strong rebuke of our cultural reflex to cast any suffering as victimhood that deserves sympathy. Persistent scoffing and hatred for knowledge exhausted her patience. Fools do not become wise through persuasion, let alone sympathy. Wisdom raises her voice: “I have called and you refused, have stretched out my hand and no one heeded” (Prov. 1:24). In our narcissistic society wealth occupies a higher place than wisdom, notoriety is more admired than dignity, success is more important than self-respect.  Our culture attempts to repress everything that reminds it of its limits and in particular the event of death, which has the power to annihilate every human delusion of omnipotence. This deprives us of the reality, that more than any other, helps us to understand ourselves, because it places life’s big questions in front of us, and brings us out of the mediocrity in which we often enclose ourselves.


Wisdom shows up in the complicated places where we live our lives. Often, she shows up in a moment of need, or crisis, or fear. When we forget about the ways of God and become mired down only in our own human ways, we often get ourselves into terrible predicaments. When we think we are beyond the basic lessons of loving justice, doing kindness, and walking humbly with God, we often end up doing and saying things we regret. When loving God and loving neighbor as ourselves are mere platitudes for us, it seems that disaster often finds us. It will always be true that bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people. It will always be true that we have some responsibility for what happens in our lives.


Becoming wise means learning to think carefully and act virtuously in complex situations where one is tempted to think simplistically and act recklessly. One becomes wise by learning to integrate one’s thoughts, will, and actions in faithful ways. This wisdom has very little to do with knowledge in service of power, and more to do with insight that is in service of God and neighbor.


James’ warnings about language in our Epistle are all the more pressing in our time. Error, deception, miscommunication, and disinformation have become commonplace. Defending our own viewpoints, we cease to listen to others. When we take time to listen to those we disagree with, we find ways to move beyond conflict that consumes and destroys. The fear of the Lord, which is a form of humility and reverence, is the beginning of wisdom. It is the experience of contact with a power greater than our own, before whom we give up control. 


When we find ways to honor God, we find that life can have a rhythm that feels right. When we recognize our need to forgive and be forgiven, we find a peace that is good for body, mind, and spirit. The quality of our relationships depends on the quality of our communications on a personal, interpersonal, social, and political level. Christians find the model of their communication in God’s communication to us in the Christ.

All the Gospels present Jesus as a person who, in all he says, does, and is, continues to point to the One who sent him. This gives meaning to his living and dying, making his death on the cross an act of freedom, not a destiny passively endured. Our fear of death can enslave us and prevent us from embracing the cross to follow him. The way we experience death is connected to our experience of the death of the people we love. With their death, something in us dies. But when Christians place their faith not in immortality but in resurrection from the dead, they know that their faith does not sidestep the grief of separation and death but passes through it. In Jesus, God has taken upon Godself the dramatic separation of death, making that death, not only an end but also a fulfillment. The God who calls us to life, in the same way, calls us back through death. It is not death that has the last word, as we so often fear, but God and love.  +Amen.


 

Friday, September 14, 2018

Holy Cross Day , Year B: Friday, September 14, 2018

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Randy Greve, OHC
Holy Cross Day-  Friday, September 14, 2018

To hear the sermon in its fullness click here.

Br. Randy Greve, OHC 

“And I”, Jesus says in the gospel reading, “when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”  Jesus also says, “I lay down my life.”  “You have no power over me.”  “No one takes my life from me.”   In our tradition, from the office for Noonday from the Book of Common Prayer: “Blessed Savior, at this hour you hung upon the cross, stretching out your loving arms: Grant that all the peoples of the earth may look to you and be saved; for your tender mercies’ sake”.  And from Eucharistic Prayer A in the Prayer Book: “He stretched out his arms upon the cross, and offered himself, in obedience to your will, a perfect sacrifice for the whole world.”  

This is active voice language in the face of a means of death that was designed to render the condemned victim powerless and humiliated and voiceless.  Jesus does not say “people will be drawn to me in my broken state”.  The prayer does not say “his arms were stretched out by the executioner, yet he is a perfect sacrifice.”  Neither the scripture nor the liturgical language which gets its imagery from the Bible will countenance the crucifixion as an event in which Jesus is a helpless and docile victim.  By all appearance, a crucified person does not draw anyone to himself.  And it is the Romans who do the arm-stretching, not the condemned.  So this language is not spiritual sentimentality, it speaks of a great reversal.  In a total indictment of the domination system’s use of power and violence to subjugate and repress, Jesus declares that his dying hours on the cross will be a raising to glory, the very sight that attracts and woos the world to him.  And this is what his death was and is from those at the cross through time. 


A death intended by the crucifiers to enact a stripping of all dignity, even annihilation, is for Jesus an emptying that is the fullness of life.  The worst that the empire can dish out is no match for his infinite capacity for forgiveness.  Jesus is put to death, of his own free will, but he is not conquered, not broken.  He is numbered among thousands of victims of Roman torture, but he does not surrender nor despair.  His saving work continues even in dying; and dying in a way and with a power that makes this active language of laying down, drawing, and stretching the acts of love, through sweat and blood and the horror of forsakenness, is his complete and eternal giving of himself in love to the world. 
Jesus as the one executed absorbs the violence inflicted on him – takes it into his very flesh, thereby exposing once and for all the illegitimacy of the belief that violence can ever be the best or final or even a good response to evil without the violent one becoming the thing being destroyed.  The cross is the world’s sign of future hope, the event of love and victory that prefigures the world that Christ will one day rule in glory.  It is also our present sign of prophetic resistance.  On this Holy Cross Day, we are witnesses to a way of life and death that regards as foolishness and futility much of how the world thinks and speaks and acts. 

Systems, movements, and impulses to evil act within and around us just as they did in Jesus’ day. Our response is to be like Jesus’.  An active, present tense way of speaking and living that proclaims the new reality of reconciliation on this side of the cross and resurrection.  We are not defined by what happened or is happening to us, by the ways others define or malign us.  To live as victims is to deny the power of Jesus’ active resistance.  We are defined by being within the stretched out arms, the loving embrace of the crucified which puts down the mighty lifts the lowly.

Some preach God’s regard for humans as a clinched fist of wrath or a pointing finger of accusation, but Jesus reminds us that we are seen with eyes of compassion, with arms stretched out in an all-encompassing embrace.  So many do not know Jesus in this way.  Many even in the church are caught between the false choices of running from the crises of the world into a spiritual bubble or turning the church into a humanist society that is merely concerned with fixing what it can.  We are drawn to a savior with whom we enter into compassionate solidarity with the suffering – a savior who is also redeeming and will ultimately undo the suffering that is so much a part of our world.  The lifted Jesus, drawing us, is inviting us into a way that faces the pain of the world, of our neighbors, with empathy and hope.  As we draw near the cross, we draw near one who knows and experiences our joys and sorrows, blessings and losses even as he is conquering and bringing to perfection and peace all that would prevent us from knowing the fullness of that love.  Stretch out your loving arms upon us, gracious Christ.  Forgive, restore, and heal us.  Use us, use our arms, stretched in love to our neighbors, to bring peace and hope and justice to our fractured world. Amen.

Sunday, September 9, 2018

Proper 18, Year B: Sunday, September 9, 2018

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY

Br. Aidan Owen, OHC
Proper 16- Sunday, September 9, 2018


To hear the sermon in its fullness click here.

Br. Aidan Owen
" She knew the rules. She had been warned. Yet . . ."