Proper 10 C - Jul 10, 2016

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Reinaldo Martinez-Cubero, n/OHC
Proper 10 Year C - Sunday - July 10, 2016

Deuteronomy 30:9-14
Colossians 1:1-14
Luke 10:25-37

The Good Samaritan - Vincent Van Gogh 1890 - Kroller-Muller Museum, Otterlo, Netherlands

 No beating around the bush. The message is quite clear. Jesus' parables were intended to push his listeners into new ways of thinking, to blow all the conventional notions away, and to challenge the religious elite's sensibilities of moral propriety. Over and over, Jesus broke down the barriers that his religious culture had erected. He made intimate connections between people and God by passing out forgiveness freely without the need of Temple sacrifices. He made intimate connections among people who were regarded as "other". Much of Jesus' teaching had to do with dismantling our binary way of thinking, the various ways we have of making distinctions and creating hierarchies of identity - neighbor and stranger, good and bad, us and them. He replaced that whole system of "either/or" with a new way. We are all connected, like the vine and the branches.

Franciscan friar and author, Richard Rohr writes: "...When Jesus offers the command to love our neighbors as we love ourselves...he connects the two great commandments of love...often, we think this means to love our neighbor with the same amount of love -- as much as we love ourselves -- when it really means that it is the same Source and the same Love that allows me to love myself, and others, and God -- at the same time...How you love is how you have accessed love.... How we love anything is how we love everything". Perhaps loving ourselves is about building our capacity to love in general? I can say, from my own slow conversion experience these past two years that the more I surrender and learn to love those parts about myself that are hard for me to love, those traits that seem to be part of my DNA, and I struggle to learn to live with, the more my capacity to love in general widens.

The command to love God with all one's being, to love one's neighbor as oneself, and even to love one's enemies is central to the Gospels. In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus specifies this by showing how the Samaritan- the hated, unclean, heretic, bitter enemy is the one who fulfills the command by reaching out extravagantly, to one who is not only a stranger, but also his enemy. The lawyer who has challenged Jesus, correctly identifies the neighbor as "the one who showed mercy". In The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare the character of Portia describes mercy in this way:

The quality of mercy is not strained.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest. It becomes
The thronèd monarch better than his crown.
His scepter shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings,
But mercy is above this sceptered sway.
It is enthronèd in the hearts of kings.
It is an attribute to God himself.

Perhaps when we show mercy, is when we are closest to God because it keeps us available to one another, and opens our heart to strangers. It requires us to realize our own weakness enough to be kind to those who are struggling with theirs. "Beware those who show no mercy", warns Sister Joan Chittister. "They are dangerous people because they have either not faced themselves or are lying to themselves about what they find there."

When I first saw the news of the horrendous acts of violence that took place this week, I was filled with confusion, disbelief, and outrage! I must admit that my first reaction was to wish retribution for the victims. But there is no way to look at those videos, as horrendous as they are, and not see the policemen's humanity. I find what I saw beyond outrageous and horrifying, but I also saw frightened men; terrified of being shot and killed. Was their reaction based on color bias and preconceived ideas about black men? As a Latino, a person of color, that was my experience of what I saw. Do I believe it to be part of systemic racism in our country? As a Latino, a person of color, that is my experience of what I see. Do I believe it has to do with white privilege? I will let my white brothers and sisters deal with that one because I have my own biases and prejudices to deal with, and to say: "Them! It's their fault!" would be, I believe, unhealthy for my spiritual life. And yes, I do want to shout "Enough!!!
 
And I hope that you, like me, want to a part of whatever would be an attempt to a solution to the racial divisions in this country. In the meantime, showing mercy to those who are like us is not what Jesus was talking about. Showing mercy to those to whom we owe a debt is not what Jesus was talking about. Showing mercy to our own group, our own family, our peeps, is not what Jesus was talking about. Jesus was talking about the much harder choice of showing mercy to the stranger, the outsider, and the enemy. This is the man who while hanging nailed to a cross, bleeding to death, and gasping for air, prayed for the very barbarians who crucified, not only him, but thousands: "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." To truly love my neighbor as myself is hard, and it is a different way of being in the world. It is the radical shift I must continue to make as I continue to learn how to live and work for that Reign of God, proclaimed by the one who befriended Samaritan, tax collector, Roman soldier, Pharisee, Sadducee, widow, leper, and the list goes on and on. So, as a follower of Jesus, and with the steady revelation of God's mercy, I must choose the deep unknowing that moves me in the direction of loving my neighbor as myself.
 
And finally, I'll say this: That Samaritan helped that man not knowing what that man would do with the mercy shown him. There's a Spiritual I know that goes something like this:

I helped my brother the other day.
Give him my right hand,
But just as soon as ever my back was turned,
He scandalized my name.
Now, do you call that a brother? No, no
He scandalized my name.

What's the end of the story? The man changed his opinion of Samaritans, and was grateful to the Samaritan the rest of his life, or as the spiritual says: just as soon as ever the Samaritan's back was turned,
he scandalized his name. We are allowed full control of the mercy we choose to show others, but what they will do with that mercy, that is not for us to control. ~Amen 

References:
 
Cynthia Bourgeault: The Wisdom Jesus (Shambhala, 2008)

Richard Rorh, OFM: The Naked Now (Crossroad, 2009)
 
Sandra M. Schneiders, IHM: Buying the Field (Paulist Press, 2013)
 
William Shakespeare: The Merchant of Venice (1599)
 
Joan Chittister, OSB: God's Tender Mercy (Twenty-Third Publications, 2010)
 
Kathleen Norris: Amazing Grace (Riverhead Books, 1998)
 
Scandalized My Name (African-American Spiritual)

TRINITY SUNDAY C- May 22, 2016

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Reinaldo Martinez-Cubero, n/OHC
Trinity Sunday  Sunday, May 22, 2016

Icon of the Trinity  

Breaking News   

I regret that I must begin this homily with a very alarming, even distressing… News brief… from Heaven…  

Calling the Holy Trinity "overstaffed and over budget," God announced plans on Friday to downsize the group by slowly phasing out the Holy Ghost. "Given the poor economic climate and the unclear nature of the Holy Ghost's duties, I felt this was a sensible and necessary decision," God said. "The Holy Ghost will be given fewer and fewer responsibilities until His formal resignation from Trinity duty on May 23. Thereafter, the Father and the Son shall be referred to as the Holy Duo."

During the past two weeks or so, it has been an interesting experience for me to tell people that I was preaching on Trinity Sunday. The reactions have gone from: a simple shrug of discomfort and “ugh”, to “Oh, I’m sorry. It must be because you are one of the newest monks.” The truth is, that upon discovering I was to preach on Trinity Sunday, I was delighted. The day is dear to my heart since it is the Feast Day of the parish in Manhattan where I was a parishioner, and where I worked for fifteen years before entering the Order.

What’s interesting is that today, we are celebrating, not a Biblical event, but a doctrine. This doctrine is a description of the human experience of God, as the source of life beyond any limit we can imagine, God coming to us uniquely through the life of Jesus of Nazareth, and, God as the ultimate depth of life. According to the more creative biblical scholars of our day, the doctrine was ‘created’ to describe, define, and safeguard an experience. Sadly, in the process of time, the ‘experience’ seems to have been drained out, leaving just a formula to denounce those who imagine things differently. But quantum physics, and cosmology are now helping us look at this Mystery of the Trinity with a new level of understanding. Reality is relational. This Mystery of the Trinity is about relationship, indwelling, and interrelatedness. It is about God within God, mutually depending and dwelling together in a holy unity. And we are invited to be a part of this Mystery through which God relates to us.

The one thing I remember more than anything from my formation classes before being received into the Episcopal Church is the definition for mystery given to us by Mother Johanna-Karen Johannson at Holy Trinity Church, Inwood. Mystery is that which cannot be apprehended by reason, but once apprehended, is not contrary to reason. Mother Johanna assured us that we could not have an authentic experience of God with easy formulas and clichéd explanations. What’s interesting is that, Science, once considered the enemy of religion, is now helping us realize that we are in the midst of awesome Mystery. Astrophysicists are much more comfortable with emptiness, black holes, and living with hypotheses than most Christians.

This Mystery of the relatedness of God’s very being, the multiple-ness of God’s very unity invites us to find peace in the unknowing. It is not an exam question that we must answer correctly before we meet Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates. Rather, as Catherine Mowry LaCugna explains in her book, God For Us, the Trinity is “ultimately a practical doctrine with radical consequences for Christian life . . . [it] is the specifically Christian way of speaking about God, [and] what it means to participate in the life of God through Jesus Christ in the Spirit.”

The Mystery of God as Trinity invites us into a relationship, a participatory experience. In Christianity, it is Jesus who teaches us through his ministry of love and healing, to live our interrelatedness with God, and with one another. His teaching leads us to a God whose very essence is structured around relationship. Jesus talked about his connection with the One he called Abba, and then he promised us the Holy Spirit, who would guide us into all truth. This plurality within unity is depicted in our reading from Proverbs this morning, with Wisdom declaring, “when God marked out the foundations of the earth, then I was beside him, like a master worker I was daily his delight, rejoicing before him always, rejoicing in his inhabited world and delighting in the human race.” The playfulness of the language cannot be overemphasized, Wisdom dancing playfully before God, the creator, and sharing her delight with the human race. God is always relating, within God’s self, and beyond God’s self, a love and joy so unimaginable that it cannot be contained. It is sad that long-faced piety, discomfort, and even condemnation of those who experience things in a different way have overwhelmed the sheer joy of this connectedness.

In his Commencement Address for Oberlin College in 1965, Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “… all life is interrelated. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality; tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly… Strangely enough, I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. You can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be.”

Living as related beings means that we seek out the voices in our midst that are not heard. It means we work through all of the barriers that seem to divide us, dismantling power systems based on hatred and domination. It means we treat the Earth, not as a reservoir of food and fuel, but as a dynamic and living organism to treasure and nurture. It means we learn to love the complexity within ourselves, having patience with the parts of ourselves that still need conversion. It means we give thanks for having been created as a part of a web of life and love that pours out of God’s own inner web of connectivity and relatedness.

A poem by Korean poet, activist, and former Zen Buddhist monk, Ko Un goes like this:

One day, I thought it was a visitor

One day, I thought it was the master

Over those years

I dreamed of the smoke

Coming from the chimneys

I still do not know who the poem is

Today we are invited to contemplate the visitor, the master, the smoke, the mystery and wonder of God, with all of creation. In the midst of all manner of brokenness, we join the joyful dance of unknowing, with delight. We still do not know who the poem is, but the Spirit of truth will guide us, and all will be revealed in the fullness of time.          Amen

References:

1.Theonion.com, God Quietly Facing Holy Ghost Out of Trinity (February 26, 2003), My adaption

2.John Shelby Spong, The Fourth Gospel: Tales of a Jewish Mystic (HarperOne, 2013)

3.Richard Rohr, The Shape of God: Deepening the Mystery of the Trinity (Center for Action and Contemplation).

4.Catherine Mowry LaCugna, God For Us: The Trinity and Christian Life (San Francisco: Harper, 1991)

5.Raimon Panikkar, The Rhythm of Being (Maryknoll: Orbis Books)

6.Martin Luther King, Jr., Remaining Awake Through a Great Revolution: Commencement Address for Oberlin College (Oberlin, 1965)

7.Ko Un, Korean Poet, from webpage: www.koun.co.kr

Feast of St Joseph - Mar 19, 2016

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Reinaldo Martinez-Cubero, n/OHC
Feast of Saint Joseph - Sunday, March 19, 2016

2 Samuel 2: 4, 8-16
Romans 5: 13-18
Luke 2: 41-52

Sculpture of the Holy Family
at the convent of the Sisters of St Joseph in Brentwood, NY

Saint Joseph has been present in my life since I was born, really. I was born on this day in 1966. I was educated at the Academia Santa Mónica in San Juan, Puerto Rico. It was a school founded in the nineteen-forties by Augustinian Priests from Spain, who had intended to staff the school with Augustinian Sisters. When the Augustinian Sisters were not available, the Friars called on the Sisters of Saint Joseph of Brentwood, Long Island. The Sisters of Saint Joseph were in those days known for their missions in education all over the world.

Since I entered the monastery, the novitiate has attended conferences held at the Mother House of the Sisters of Saint Joseph in Brentwood. It has been a very happy experience for me to get to have short visits with Sister Vivina Gracia CSJ, who was the principal of my beloved alma mater in the seventies when I was there, and who is now back at the Mother House. To say that these women were a huge influence and helped shape the basic principles by which I have lived all my life would be an understatement. They were firm, but kind educators who instilled in us a sense of self-discipline and responsibility. They taught us about respect for others, justice, and non-violence. They taught us about God’s presence and love in an evolving world.

But, who was Saint Joseph? Well, I will share with you my own version of the story. It is the story of Saint Joseph and the Holy Family according to me, and inspired by the Gospels. I do so, NOT, in any way, to debunk or disrespect the Gospel stories, which, while not factual but true, are, I believe, fundamental to our faith, as the early testimony of the significance that Jesus came to have in the lives, experience, and thought of first century Christians.

Joseph was a carpenter and craftsman who lived in a small peasant village called Nazareth. He was a hard-working man, and was known by many as a just and righteous man. When he was about thirty years old, he was engaged to a very young woman called Mary, who was about thirteen years old. They eventually married, and shortly after, Mary became pregnant.

One night an angel of God appeared to Joseph in a dream, and told him that he was to be the foster father of the child Mary was carrying in her womb. The child was of God, and Joseph was to name him Jesus because he would come to save the world. When Joseph awoke he was troubled and confused, and didn’t know what to make of these things. When he shared the dream with Mary, she was amazed, and told him that an angel of God had also appeared to her while she was praying. The angel told her that the child she was carrying was from God, that she was favored, and that God was with her.

In those days a decree required that all people be registered. So Joseph, and a very pregnant Mary set out for Joseph’s native town of Bethlehem in Judea, which was about 80 miles north of Nazareth. It was a very difficult journey due to Mary’s condition. Once in Bethlehem, it was evening by the time they were registered, and they went to stay at the dwelling place of Joseph’s relatives. It was a humble place, small and crowded, and the only place where Mary and Joseph could be was where people in those days brought their cows and mules indoors. By the time they arrived Mary went into labor. It was a frightening night, as giving birth in those days was a dangerous event and often babies and/or their mothers did not survive. But the child did survive, as did Mary. She wrapped the baby in swaddling cloth and laid him in a manger, and Joseph named the child Jesus as the angel of God had told him, which means “God saves”.

Joseph and Mary stayed in Bethlehem for some years, and one day when Jesus was about two years old, Joseph had another dream in which an angel told him he was to flee with his family to Egypt. King Herod was about to send his troops to kill all boys who were two years or under. Joseph and his family travelled to Egypt, which was over two hundred miles. They settled there for some years. And then, one day, the angel appeared to Joseph once again and told him that Herod had died. It was now safe for them to return to the land of Israel. So, Joseph and Mary and their children (for by this time Jesus had siblings) returned to Israel and made their home in Nazareth.

When Jesus was twelve years old his family made their yearly journey to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. When the festival had ended the family began their journey home. They travelled a whole day before realizing that Jesus was not with them. Mary and Joseph frantically looked for him among their relatives and friends who were travelling with them, but did not find him, so they returned to Jerusalem. After searching for two days, they finally found their son in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening, and asking questions. Mary said to Jesus: “Why have you treated us this way? Your father and I have been searching for you in great anguish!” Jesus replied: “But, didn’t you know I would be here, in my Father’s house?” At that moment Joseph remembered what the angel of God had told him in that dream before Jesus was born, that he was to be the foster father of the child, and he understood. All earthly parents are foster parents, whether or not they are biological. God is our legitimate mother and father. They returned to Nazareth and Jesus continued to increase in wisdom.

Joseph taught Jesus how to pray, and how to work. He was a righteous man, but to him, to be a righteous person according to the law was not enough. So he taught Jesus about God’s righteousness and mercy. He taught Jesus to be willing to be empty, so he could be filled and molded by the grace of God’s transforming, and redemptive power. Joseph understood that fatherhood is much more than a mere fact of biological generation. He invested himself in the spiritual and moral formation of Jesus. Joseph’s faith was the foundation of Jesus’ faith and understanding of God, the Father.

Joseph also taught his son the trade of carpentry, and passed on to Jesus the values required to become a good carpenter. These values would serve him well in his later ministry, a ministry he intended to start just a few years later. But sadly, Joseph died, and Jesus, being the oldest child, became the new head of the family. During these years, he grew in stature and favor with God and in the eyes of other people. And when his youngest siblings had become of age, Jesus left his family to begin his ministry.

Jesus would eventually come to teach his disciples how to pray, and when he began that prayer by saying, “Our Father in heaven…” Jesus introduced to the disciples a new name for God, which was “Abba”. When Jesus called God “Abba”, he was reflecting his relationship with Joseph. When Jesus told the story of the prodigal son, it was a reflection of Joseph, who taught his son about a righteousness that would manifest itself by giving himself in love for others.

In Jesus, his disciples would come to witness the human and the divine coexisting. He would become the model, the exemplar, the promise, and the guarantee for which the world had long waited. He would come to be the savior of the world by giving himself in love to bring us out of error into truth, out of sin into righteousness, and out of death into life. Little did Joseph know that his son would come to embrace that love and mercy expressed through his crucifixion, and revealed in his resurrection. The righteousness Joseph taught his son would not protect him from the blows and wounds of human injustice and bigotry, but it would free him to face such destructive forces wrapped in the graceful love of the living God he called “Abba”.

Saint Joseph, most just, most righteous, most loving husband, most obedient, most faithful, and guardian of the world incarnate: pray for us! Amen.

Feast of the Epiphany - Jan 6, 2016

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Reinaldo Martinez-Cubero, n/OHC

Epiphany - Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Isaiah 60: 1-6    
Ephesians 3: 1-12    
Matthew 2: 1-12

Amahl and the Night Visitors

Having been born and raised in Puerto Rico, where today is a day of big celebration, this Feast of the Epiphany, or El día de los reyes, as we call it, has always had a very special place in my heart. On La víspera de reyes (the eve of the Epiphany), children in Puerto Rico cut grass and place it in a shoebox by their beds with another little container of water for the camels, and a wish list. The next morning the grass has been eaten, and there are presents by the bed. Los reyes will bypass your house if you are not asleep, so on Víspera de reyes children are motivated to go to bed early and fall asleep. I’ll never forget the night before día de reyes when I was awaken by some noise in my bedroom. Being the kind of young boy that I was, who always wanted to follow the rules, I was instantly terrified that the wise men would discover that I was awake. I kept my eyes very tightly shut and did not move. I must have fallen back asleep right away since I don’t remember anything else, and the next day I was able to enjoy my presents.

In my adult life as a performer, teacher, and theatre director, the opera Amahl and the Night Visitors by Gian-Carlo Menotti is the opera I have performed most. I have trained children for the role of Amahl, and have also produced and directed the opera several times. In the opera, Amahl, a boy who can walk only with a crutch, and his mother live in ancient times in much poverty. One night, three splendidly dressed kings appear at their door. They are on a long journey to bring gifts to a wondrous child and they ask if they can rest at their house. The mother welcomes them, and goes to fetch firewood. Amahl seizes the opportunity to speak with the kings. King Balthazar answers Amahl's questions about his life as a king, and then wants to know about Amahl. Amahl responds that he was once a shepherd, but his mother had to sell his sheep. Now he and his mother will have to go begging. Amahl then talks with King Kaspar, who is childlike, eccentric, and a bit deaf. Kaspar shows Amahl his box of magic stones, beads, and licorice. Later, while all are asleep, the mother attempts to steal for her son some of the gold that was meant for the Christ child. She is thwarted by the kings' page. When the page is grabbing the mother, Amahl attacks him. Seeing Amahl's weak defense of his mother, and understanding the motives for the attempted theft, King Melchior says she may keep the gold. The Holy Child will not need earthly power or wealth to build his kingdom. The mother says she has waited all her life for such a king and asks the kings to take back the gold. She wishes to send a gift but has nothing to send. Amahl, too, has nothing to give to the Child except his crutch. When he offers it to the kings, his leg miraculously heals. He asks his mother if he can go with the three kings so he can present his offering to the child himself. The opera ends as Amahl bids farewell to his mother, and leaves with the kings.

During the past two weeks it has been quite fun to study the sources for the traditions from my childhood, and the inspiration for the many variations of the legend of the wise men, and the many beautiful stories they have inspired. In addition to the readings we heard this morning, I have read many commentaries, and exegeses, and watched really fascinating documentaries. But I have to say that I got very little from all of that that I would want to share this morning. What is in my heart, however, came to me as I was hiking last Saturday. It was not a long hike, but it was longer and a bit more difficult than I was expecting. And then, I found the overlook of the beautiful Hudson valley and the river, and I praised God and gave thanks. I started thinking about that journey in the story of the wise men. A journey into the unknown to find and pay homage to a baby the stars have told them is to be king of a culture and religion not their own! There is a significant lesson in that. Astrologers that follow the constellations of the stars and pay attention to their dreams! I love it! All of a sudden these lessons from Isaiah and from Matthew were speaking to me about the light, and how our lives are journeys, often in the dark, searching for that light.

Speaking during difficult days when the Babylonian exiles had returned to Jerusalem to find the place still pretty much a ruin, and the ancient glories of Israel a distant and painful memory, Isaiah comes full of hope and joy for a bright future. "Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you." Likewise, we today are called to get up and be in relationship with this light that is God’s love breaking into a world that has been covered in darkness.

In Isaiah we read "Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn." This is the same light from which all things come. In the Christ Child we see the light of God. Everything in the universe shines because God is at the heart of it. The epiphany story invites us to open our eyes to the light that is everywhere, even beyond our inherited boundaries. We need the light that comes from other cultures, and nations, and religions as much as the species of the earth need one another to be whole. Our reading from Isaiah this morning says: “Then you shall see and be radiant; your heart shall thrill and rejoice.” (A better translation from the Hebrew is: “your heart shall enlarge” or “your heart shall stretch”). The light of God always stretches our hearts in such a way as to open them to those who are ‘other’ and different. Without such a stretching, we cannot receive those who are not like us. Hearing and receiving what this verse implies could help the current, unfortunate debates in this country about refugees, and immigrants.

The lesson from Matthew’s Gospel also is a story about finding light way beyond the boundaries of what is familiar to us. It offers us an archetypal journey. We are invited to embark on that journey, however long or difficult. We are invited to open ourselves to wonder along the way. We are invited to find that star that shines in the darkness of unknowing, and to follow it. We are invited to kneel and give praise when we encounter the sacred in the most ordinary of places. We are invited to carry our gifts, our treasures, no matter how small or insignificant we think they are (like Amahl’s crutch) and give them freely because that heals us. We are invited to listen to the wisdom of our dreams. And when we need to, we are invited to take another road. Feliz día de los reyes! 
AMEN

Proper 24 B - Oct 18, 2015

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Reinaldo Martinez-Cubero, n/OHC
Proper 24 B - Sunday, October 18, 2015

Job 38: 1-7, 34-41
Hebrews 5: 1-10
Mark 10: 35-45

Grant us to sit, one at your right hand, and one at your left in your glory

“Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand, and one at your left in your glory.” Just in case you don’t know, this is what happened before that little display of obtuseness: “…he began to tell them what was to happen to him, saying, ‘Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem; and the Son of man will be delivered to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death, and deliver him to the Gentiles; and they will mock him, and spit upon him, and scourge him, and kill him; and after three days he will rise.” (Mark 10: 32-34) To that James and John say: “Hmm, so, is there any way that you could grant us to sit one at your right hand and the other at your left in your glory?” Real sensitive!

I have read many commentaries about this gospel lesson since I started preparing for this sermon. Not surprisingly, I’ve read references about James and John being dense, not very smart, clueless. “Those poor disciples, they just didn’t get it”, wrote one commentator. True, they didn’t. But, how easy it is to point the finger, and to place the problem elsewhere. It seems to me that the question should really be, do we get it?

These gospel stories have been around for two thousand years, and we still don’t get it. One only needs to look at what happens during presidential campaigns in this country- the millions of dollars that candidates raise in order to be on top and have more power over the other. And how about TV shows where titans of business are the stars, judges and lawyers flex their muscles, the rich and famous boast about their lives of excess and show us their luxurious gigantic homes, or the many “reality” shows where those who want their five minutes of fame are exploited, and often, their materialistic behavior, or their vulgarity is glamorized. Do we get it? It can even happen in more subtle ways, when we look for clout, prestige, authority, and status in our lives or when we believe we are above rules because of our sense of entitlement.

Of course the disciples didn’t get it! “…whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.” Jesus’ message was a radical one in the ancient world, and it is still a radical one in our world today. “‘Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?’ They replied, ‘We are able.’”

Many years ago I held auditions for a musical revue I was directing at the youth theatre that I founded and managed in NYC for fifteen years before entering the monastery. The musical revue was Tintypes, a chamber piece that provides a history lesson focusing on the period in the United States between the turn of the 20th century and the onset of World War I. At the audition was thirteen year-old Nik, who seemed to have more enthusiasm than any other kid auditioning, and who specified on his audition form that he wanted to be considered for the role of T.R., a very demanding role. While Nik had great determination, he had very little musical theatre experience, which was a concern given the complexity of the role for which he was auditioning. There were other older, and more experienced kids at the audition, although they did not have nearly as much enthusiasm.

After the audition I pulled Nik aside and said: “So, you want to be considered for T.R.?” “Yes”, was his serious and assertive response. So I said: “Look, if I cast you in this role, you are going to have to work really, really hard. I will be very tough on you, I will demand a lot from you, and I may not always be very nice. On top of that, I can’t really guarantee to you that you will have great performances because I can’t really predict that. If you do it, you have to embrace the process. Are you sure you want to do this?” “Yes, I can do it”, was his very determined response.

So Nik was cast as T.R. in the production of Tintypes. It was a bumpy ride. He worked very hard. He made many mistakes. Sometimes, when things became scary, he wanted to run away. As promised, I was very demanding, and not always very nice. The work was not about achieving status, or power over anyone because in fact, all the roles in Tintypes are equal in terms of their level of difficulty and complexity. What I didn’t promise because I could not have known, is that, Nik’s performances were wonderful, and thankfully, the experience in the end was a meaningful one for him.

James and John may not have fully grasped to what it was that they were agreeing. And they surely lived into it very clumsily, often missing the mark, especially in the beginning. But they did eventually get it, and gave their lives fully in love, to discipleship, James, even onto death by martyrdom. From my experience this last year I can say that the reason why one says yes to that call, keeps evolving, sometimes even every month. For us who choose to answer the call of Jesus, the act of following the path can be quite clumsy at times, and as humans, like James, and John we make mistakes and miss the mark time and time again. And following Jesus also means struggle, and pain, and suffering. It means the cross. Jesus guarantees to his disciples that suffering is inevitable. “The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized”. But the glory of sitting at the right or left hand of Jesus, that’s up to God. I couldn’t guarantee to Nik that his performances after so much hard work were going to be great, and Jesus couldn’t guarantee to James and John positions in his glory.

What Jesus does do is to give us a perfect example of how to live today. He liberates us from the bonds of sin, and lifts us onto true communion with God. He came “to give his life as a ransom” for us. His life, death and resurrection transform us, and lead to our salvation. When we mediate on his teachings our consciousness is raised, and through our raised consciousness we enter into communion with God.  This is the way in which Jesus’ death raised humanity’s collective consciousness and brought humanity into communion with God.  This is salvation, the cosmic awareness that we are all one with God. Salvation is not just about what happens after we die.  It is about the here and now.  It is about how we experience God, and our relationship with God.  It is about how we are to live in the world today.  It is about service and transformation. It is not about where we will sit in heaven. Otherwise, it would simply be a commercial transaction and not spiritual transformation.

Proper 16 B - Aug 23, 2015

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Reinaldo Martinez-Cubero, n/OHC
Proper 16 B – Sunday, August 23, 2015


Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18
Ephesians 6:10-20
John 6:56-69-31

Take up the whole armor of God

“Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm.”

There is nothing on earth that could entice me to re-live 2005, the year during which I went through some very difficult experiences, one after the other. But it is one of those experiences that stands out in my memory when I read the lesson from the Letter to the Ephesians.

An employee of the church where I worked, who lived on the premises, had become addicted to methamphetamine hydrochloride, commonly known as crystal meth. I was extremely concerned about the safety of the children of the theatre program that I ran at the church. I had been aware of the comings and goings by the entrance to his apartment. We were handling the situation in no uncertain terms, but also with much care and caution. In spite of tireless efforts, warnings, and some progress through outpatient rehabilitation, the behavior continued, and the situation worsened. After much consideration, and prayer it was decided that the situation as it was, was not helping this individual, and indeed, was putting the children of the church’s programs at risk. An intervention was needed, and we needed to demand that he go for in-patient rehab. Every step was taken with an immense amount of love, concern and care for the dignity of this person. In the intervention group were two psychotherapists, one of whom specialized in addiction. They guided us on how to proceed. Unfortunately, in spite of our efforts, and wishes for a peaceful resolution, the intervention was quite messy. The individual became very violent, striking someone physically, and the police had to be called to take care of the rest of it.

The Bishop Suffragan of the diocese who had been aware of what we were going through praised our efforts, and said that, “with love we had withstood against the work of the devil”. I remember feeling instantly uncomfortable with that statement. Did she mean a supernatural force? At the time, if I was going to think about evil at all, my post-enlightenment, intellectual, liberal theology felt more comfortable thinking of it in the human realm: corrupt corporate empires or political regimes; those who get as much wealth as they can, and as quickly as they can for themselves instead of allowing for equal distribution of resources; and so on. But the older I get, the more I realize that, if I am really going to be honest and honor my Baptismal Covenant, the Scriptural understanding of evil is something I must consider very seriously, and that there is often more to our struggles than meets the eye. If we don’t see our journeys in this world as part of a much bigger story, we are surely being limited about the nature and power of evil and are also overruling a substantial part of Scripture.

According to the New Testament in general, there are cosmic powers at work all the time. The personal agent in whom these forces originate is Satan, who is determined to destroy all of God’s Creation. The gospel according to John speaks of the Prince of This World. In her book “Buying the Field”, Sandra M. Schneiders, I.H.M. explains that “World” in this context means “a construction of reality, which is in opposition to Jesus and his own and which can be incarnated in multifarious ways”. She further writes: “It is difficult for us to understand in the abstract what this ‘world’ is. Because we never see or engage it except as embodied in some person, system, ideology, institution, and so on, we naturally tend to concretize it as a place, a people, … a political party or social system, … something which we can identify and engage as if it were free standing and clearly distinct from the ‘good world’. However this evil world pervades the natural and historical world in which we live, the good Creation of God and the struggling human beings who are torn between good and evil.”

The book of Revelation speaks of the ferocious dragon with tremendous size and awesome power that is behind the beast. This dragon represents active, powerful, satanic power. Often, we cannot describe these cosmic powers exactly, but we get closer to what the author of the Letter to the Ephesians is trying to describe when we can see particular behaviors at work. For example, when a group of people will stop at nothing until they achieve the destruction of someone or some cause, or when groups of people are outcast, or their dignity and basic humanity is taken away. I believe that perhaps it is better to think of evil in terms of behaviors rather than individuals. Anyone who is so tightly connected with something that takes away his or her human freedom is not evil, but is likely being exploited by powers that are bigger than they are.

What do we do when we are faced with these forces or with individuals who have clearly been invaded by these forces? As Christians, we are clearly called to love and to forgive. But to love and to forgive does not mean that we let a perpetrator get away with wrongdoing, because, well, that really is not love. In that very sad and difficult situation at my work years ago, we prayed together, we sought advice, we stood firm, we loved, and we did the best we could. As for those who exploit others, well, the Scriptures do assure us that there will be justice, but that justice is ultimately for God to reveal, and it may not happen in our lifetime. In the meantime, we are to put on that spiritual armor of God. That armor is our Lord Jesus Christ who breaks through time and space to live in the world here and now, and who tells us, in the lesson from the gospel according to John that through his body and blood we abide in Him and He in us.  We are to fasten the belt of truth, the truth about the Word of God around our waist. Without that belt, we have no place for the scabbard, and thus no place for the sword, which is the Living Word of God itself. By putting on the breastplate of righteousness we put into practice what we believe in our hearts.

Like the Israelites in the story from the Book of Joshua, who are constantly turning to God, and then turning away, and then turning to God again, putting on the breastplate of righteousness requires that we stop compartmentalizing God to “Christian activities” in church and during spiritual practices, but then stop thinking about God if it is not convenient because we just want to be self-indulgent. When the devil is at work to fill us with doubt, and entice us with instant gratification, the shield of faith recognizes the deceptiveness of these tactics and quickly extinguishes the flaming arrows. The two edges of the devil’s sword are discouragement and doubt, pointing at our failures, our unresolved problems, or to whatever else seems negative in our lives, to make us lose confidence in the love of God. The helmet of salvation gives us confidence and assurance that our present struggles will not last forever and we will be victorious in the end. And finally, we are to pray, “pray in the Spirit at all times”, because as psalm 34 says: “The righteous cry, and the LORD hears them and delivers them from all their troubles.” 

Our Holy God in Heaven, fill us with your Holy Spirit, that we may keep your word alive in us through the teachings of Scripture. Keep us alert and ever more sensitive to the spiritual reality of cosmic powers. 

Amen.

Easter 2 B - Apr 12, 2015

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY

Br. Reinaldo Martinez-Cubero, n/OHC

Easter 2 B – Sunday, April 12, 2015

Acts 4:32-35
1John 1:1-2: 2
John 20:19-31

Thomas and Christ - by Caravaggio

Locked doors are mentioned twice in today’s gospel lesson. I set out to find some information online about these locked doors, and read somewhere how the etymology of the Greek word used for closed, or locked, or shut was closely linked to the Greek word “ekklesia”. I got together with our Brother Roy, and his Greek Bible, and Greek lexicon. The Greek word is “kleio”.  We dug and dug, but came to the conclusion that “kleio” and “ekklesia” are not really linked. And because God has a sense of humor, that evening I saw a post on facebook that read: “Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.”- Abraham Lincoln. But upon further research, what I did find was the metaphorical usage of the word “kleio” in the Bible: “To obstruct the entrance into the reign of God.” All of a sudden it all became clear to me. That is precisely what was happening to those disciples behind those closed doors in John’s Gospel lesson. It is from what the experience of the resurrection released them, being shut out of the reign of God. They are behind closed doors, surely suffering post-traumatic stress. Their leader has been put to death by the barbarian Roman practice of crucifixion, and buried in a hurry. They fear they may be next, so they’re hiding. And I imagine there are feelings of guilt and remorse. One of them, now gone, betrayed Jesus and turned him to the authorities. All but the youngest fled. Peter, the senior one among them followed at a distance, but when questioned, denied he had ever heard of Jesus. Nevertheless, here they are, gathered together behind closed doors so they can share worship and eat a fellowship meal in remembrance of their teacher.

We can’t know for certain the details of what happened that evening because the story doesn’t tell us, but that worship experience must have been so profound that they saw Jesus, who said: "Peace be with you." He does not condemn them, or even rebuke them. Instead he dissolves their fear. He heals their grief. This is the ascended and glorified Jesus, but he still bears the visible scars of the crucifixion. John’s resurrection story is of the crucified Jesus, who

se glorification came by giving life and love even as his own life was being ripped from him. Jesus shows them his hands, and this reminds us that God "had given all things into his hands" (3: 35). He showed them his side that had been pierced by the Roman soldier after his death, and from which had flowed both blood and water, reminiscent of birth.  This "blood and water" would now give birth to a new community.

The disciples rejoice at "seeing the Lord." In the four gospels, "seeing" is quite often another way of saying "gets it." The disciples “see”. They “get it”. It is through the wounds of Jesus that peace is won. This peace has to do with spiritual welfare, grounded in God, otherwise, it is shallow and short lived. It is an inward peace, but it is not dormant. It is a peace that makes action possible, and so, Jesus issues a command: "As the Father has sent me, even so I send you." As the disciples have received, so they are to give to others. They are to spread the gift of peace to all who are trapped, as they once were, in grief and fear. “He breathed on them."  The Greek word translated as "breathed" is emphusao.  It is the same word the Septuagint uses in translating Genesis 2: 7:  "And the Lord God...breathed into (Adam's) nostrils the breath of life." Where God breathed life into Adam, Jesus now breathes life into his new community, and in this way grants them a new source of life, the Holy Spirit. This new community is to be characterized by the forgiveness of sins. If sins are not forgiven, they are "retained" within the community, thereby greatly affecting the community's life.

Thomas was not with the group when the disciples saw Jesus. When they tried to tell him what happened to them, he does not accept their witness to an experience he has not had. He will not believe until he has seen the marks of the nails and put his hand into the spear wound on Jesus’ side. Let me propose that ‘Believe’ has quite a different meaning in the gospels from the way it is usually used in religious circles today. According to the North American New Testament scholar, the late Marcus Borg, ‘to believe’ comes from the old English ‘be love’ and is more about love, trust, faithfulness and commitment, than intellectual agreement or approval to a number of propositions. Thomas is not prepared to make his commitment at second hand. He knew what had happened to Jesus on the cross and that Jesus was dead. He wanted to see (to “get it”). And note what he asks to see – the marks of the nails and spear- the wounds

For Thomas ‘belief’ involves identifying with the crucified Jesus in his suffering.

A week later the disciples are still hiding behind closed doors. Jesus appears again, and again he says, "Peace be with you." Then he addresses Thomas. Jesus does not rebuke him, but instead releases Thomas from his uncertainty, and into making a bold confession of faith: "My Lord and my God!" His confession is in effect: I see God in the presence of Jesus; I see the Word made flesh and dwelling among us. He has come to understand that when we see Jesus, we see God. Thomas is now transformed, and through his affirmation of faith, the disciples enter into a new reality- a life where they experience the deep peace of forgiveness and share that peace with others. They are now empowered to proclaim this Good News. They will be recognized by the love they have to give and by the freedom they achieve- freedom that will enable them to give their lives away in love to others. In today’s lesson from Acts, we see these transformed disciples in action.

The peace and love we give one another through Jesus is the peace and love on display on the cross. That is what Thomas sees. The one who was crucified and resurrected is the presence of God among us, and the source of all life. His call to us is to live fully in peace, love, and hope. And we, who have come to faith through the witness of those who wrote the gospels, and the other books of the New Testament, are called to bring that love, peace, and hope even to those who don’t share our particular way of commitment to God.

Most merciful God, help us to let go and let the things that need to die, die, that we may hear and respond to the message of the Resurrection, as Thomas did. Amen

Alleluia, Christ is Risen! The Lord is Risen indeed! Alleluia!

Epiphany 2 B - Jan 18, 2015

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY

Mr. Reinaldo Martinez-Cubero, Postulant

Epiphany 2 B, Sunday, January 18, 2015

1 Samuel 3:1-10 (11-20)
1 Corinthians 6:12-20
John 1:43-51

Eli and little Samuel

“Samuel! Samuel!” I have an old dog that lives with me in my cell. We take several walks around the monastery every day. The first of those walks is early in the morning before the sun comes up. Everything is very quiet, and usually my walk is done in prayer. But recently, since I’ve been preparing for this sermon, the thought has come to my head: “If God calls me right now like in the Samuel story, I’ll freak out.” “Reinaldo! Reinaldo!” Fortunately and unfortunately, God has called on me at very clear points in my life, but not that way. It hasn’t sounded that clear.

In our readings today there is a lot of calling going on. God calls to Samuel, Eli calls to Samuel, Jesus calls to Philip, Philip calls to Nathanael. Calling- to summon loudly (according to the dictionary app in my computer), a strong urge toward a particular way of life or career. A career is an occupation undertaken for a significant period of a person’s life, and with opportunities for progress, or also, what happens as a person undertakes a series of jobs in the same field over time. Career carries with it a sense of increasing experience, responsibility, and reward. We can have a career, or we may not. But we always have a calling. A calling links what we do to a larger community in which we contribute to the common good. People follow a calling because they believe it is right for them to do so. The work may be hard, but they find it rich with meaning and significance.

The celebrated sociologist Robert Nelly Bellah wrote: "The notion of calling is an effort to make real the reign of God in the realm of work." That realization involves the recognition "that we all need each other, and that our real reward is our sense of contribution to the common good." [Robert N. Bellah, "Economics and the theology of work," UME Connexion, Spring 1985, p. 11.]

A calling is there when you've never had a career, or after you've retired from work. It is a calling because we are being called. And we are called in many different ways, sometimes over and over again. The phone in our hearts keeps ringing, and that phone has no voicemail or answering service. We can choose to answer or not. But I’m sure many of us still remember what it feels like to hear a phone’s relentless ring when it is not answered. It is God who calls us to do what we do as partners with the creator in rehabbing a big or even a little chunk of this world so that it more closely resembles the divine intention. The divine voice is a powerful voice, but often speaks softly, and can certainly surprise us. We might hope to know for sure what we are meant to do, or who we are meant to be, or where we are supposed to go, but the reality is that, more often than not, a calling might be confusing and/or scary.

In our first lesson, Samuel, is a boy who lives and works in the temple during a period when the religion of Israel had become dry. One night God calls to Samuel. He thinks it's the old priest Eli. This happens three times. Eli thinks the kid's having bad dreams. Finally the priest wakes up to the realization that God, who hasn't spoken much to his people lately, is speaking to this boy. He tells Samuel to listen and obey when the voice speaks again. When Samuel finally responds to God instead of Eli, God tells him of plans to punish Eli’s family because of the iniquity of his sons. There is no task given, and no clarity. The next day he will get up and open the doors to the house of God just as he usually does, only this time he knows God’s plan. Samuel grows up to become an important figure in the tumultuous history of Israel.

Now, I have to admit that the passage from John’s Gospel leaves me wanting more information. Something makes me think that many days must have gone by during which Philip listened to Jesus’ teaching, and perhaps had conversations with him. Nathanael too, must have known at least a little bit about what Jesus was doing, and what things he was talking about. Mind you, I do believe that meeting Jesus must have been something of an extraordinary experience, and not like anything we could easily imagine today. What those Apostles really experienced must have been something difficult to comprehend today.

That team, the Apostles, chosen by Jesus to spread the mysteries of the Reign of God, and to continue God’s ministries, were uneducated, and came from relatively low social classes of Judaism. They were simple people, fishermen and tax collectors, but with faith in the God of Israel. These were the eyewitnesses, and founding members of our faith. They changed the world. Was it an easy ride? We know it was not. Was it confusing, unclear, scary? Did they know where they were going? Was their future uncertain? One of life’s biggest challenges is coping with uncertainty. Circumstances are always changing around us. Change is certainly one of life’s few guarantees. No matter how much we plan for the future there is actually little that we can know for sure about what will happen. Learning how to accept not knowing is a key to spiritual health. I’m still working on that one!

The first words we heard from Nathanael were a mocking remark: “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” But his encounter with Jesus pushes him in the right direction. Jesus invites him to follow, and that is what he does. He was surprised, and so was Samuel. Not without difficulty, they recognize their callings. Like them, we too, can start to perceive our calling. If we have begun, we can continue to recognize it. Almost certainly, it involves surprise. The reason for this is that God has more important things in store for us than we can ask or imagine. More important things than our society says to us. More important things than we say to ourselves. God calls us to where we can do something significant for this humanity, and experience a fulfillment deeper than we think we deserve. That’s a calling.

We can look at how others were called, and learn from their example. We can learn from the stories of Samuel, Philip, and Nathanael. We can be inspired by the stories of those who fought for greater freedom and justice. People like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. who will be remembered tomorrow, and his leadership in the struggle for basic human rights. We can listen intently when God speaks to us, perhaps through a still, small voice, perhaps through the challenges of daily life. But to hear that call in our hearts, where God dwells in us is always an instance of grace.

Dear God of all things, keep us reminded to stay alert and attentive to your call, and grant us faith and courage to respond and to follow, even when in our limited nature we don’t fully comprehend your purpose for us or know where you are taking us.

Amen.