Showing posts with label Saint Michael and All Angels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Saint Michael and All Angels. Show all posts

Sunday, September 29, 2024

Saint Michael and All Angels, September 29, 2024

 Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY

Br. Robert Leo Sevensky
Saint Michael and All Angels, September 29, 2024

Click here for an audio of the sermon


We don't get to preach all that often here at Holy Cross Monastery.  With seven or eight or more brothers preaching on Sundays and major feasts, opportunities are limited. But here I am again assigned to preach on this feast of Saint Michael and all Angels.  It turns out that I've preached on this feast at least three times in the last decade or so. What more is there to say? I've looked at all our past sermons for this feast which are on our monastery website, including three by me, and all these sermons are interesting and provocative. It's very tempting to want to lift one and just read it.  And that would be fine…except that was then and this is now. The world has changed and we have changed, and once again we have to ask what angels have to do with us today.

Probably most of us aren’t aware of it, but we are in what is called in church circles the Season of Creation. This is an annual observance for Christians endorsed by the Orthodox Ecumenical Patriarch and Pope Francis and the Archbishop of Canterbury, the World Council of Churches and many other church bodies inviting us to focus our attention on the created order and the many environmental crises we face, particularly the climate crisis, and to reflect on what it means for us as people of faith to care for creation. The observance began on September 1st, which is the first day of the church year for the Eastern Orthodox Christians, and concludes this Friday on the feast of Saint Francis of Assisi who for us Western Christians--indeed for all Christians--draws our hearts and minds to reflect upon our embeddedness in creation.

The theme for this year’s Season of Creation is “To hope and act with Creation.”   The brief official publicity for this year’s observance reads:

“In the letter of Paul the apostle to the Romans, the biblical image pictures the Earth as a Mother, groaning as in childbirth (Rom 8:22). Francis of Assisi understood this when he referred to the Earth as our sister and our mother in his Canticle of Creatures. The times we live in show that we are not relating to the Earth as a gift from our Creator, but rather as a resource to be used.

 

“And yet, there is hope and the expectation for a better future. To hope in a biblical context does not mean to stand still and quiet, but rather groaning, crying, and actively striving for new life amidst the struggles. Just as in childbirth, we go through a period of intense pain, but new life springs forth.”

 

I admit that I have been slow to catch the import of all this while many of our brothers and sisters, particularly the younger ones, have been painfully aware of how we have abused and damaged our mother earth and how that abuse and damage threatens our own existence, the existence of a people made in the image of God. For me it has been the reality of climate change which impacting us so directly that is bringing me and many others to awareness, but of course the issues go beyond climate.  Maybe my reluctance has something to do with what Al Gore called an inconvenient truth: that as we become aware, we realize sooner or later-- some of us much later--that we must act and that this will mean change, change in the way we live, change in the way we consume, change in the way we relate to each other and to the whole created order. Yes, in our foundational story we are given stewardship of the world. But stewardship does not mean exploitation, especially not for personal gain. Nor can it be bought at the expense of distant and powerless others.  It means rather a gentle tending with mutual respect and the sharing of burdens.

There is so much to be done in this arena, and the threats that we face are so grave, that it is easy to lose hope, to feel that that we simply can't make the necessary adjustments to our lives, nor can we convince those who wield power to make those hard and costly choices. And we labor as if it were all up to us; that we must bear this burden alone, and that there is no help outside of us. It is of course accurate to say that the demands and the responsibilities are very great, and we must, each of us, begin to come to terms with them. But we are not alone in this. And here's where the angels come in.

Whatever they are, the angels represent powers greater than ourselves who work for good, who defend and protect, who serve, who promote the divine purpose, furthering God’s dream not simply for us but and for the entire universe. The angels fight for right, they are hidden messengers who both warn and encourage, who seek the good of God's creation. And they are with us in this emerging task of responsible stewardship, a task which oftentimes seems impossible. Their message to us is: “This is possible. And we are there to help.”

Over the last weeks we have been reading the Book of Job at morning prayer. There's a wonderful passage towards the end where God speaks to Job out of a whirlwind and asks: “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?  Tell me if you have understanding. …On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone when the morning stars sang together and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?” (Job 38:4-7) These morning stars, these heavenly beings, have long been understood to be angels who comprise a kind of chorus encouraging God on in the primal process of creation. I like to think that they have a similar role to play today in overseeing that same creation, making sure that we don't mess it up hopelessly, that we don’t make an end of it or destroy it and ourselves. Perhaps today our invitation is to call on the angels to help us in the work creation care, calling on their aid as we begin, however haltingly, to hope and act with Creation and not over against it. That in a nutshell is my message for the feast of Saint Michael and all Angels in this year of our Lord 2024. 

I conclude with two quotations which I find helpful. The first is from the Anglican Church of Canada’s resource for feast days titled For All the Saints. It says of today’s feast:

Many good and faithful Christians find it difficult to accept the existence of angels; for them, angels have no more reality in fact than unicorns, griffins, or the phoenix. It may be true that the existence of angels is not one of the things in which Christians must believe if they want to be saved. Yet whenever Christians say the Nicene Creed, they confess that God has created “all that is, seen and unseen.” Entertaining the possibility of angels may be one way of acknowledging the sheer diversity of life, visible and invisible, that God has ordained in creation.

The second quote is a little grittier. It comes from the conclusion of a sermon our late beloved Brother Andrew Colquhoun preached here in 2011 on this very feast. Never one to mince words, Andrew says:

“Maybe I’m verging too far on superstition.

“But I don’t care. If you don’t believe in the angels, then for Christ’s sake become one.  Become a healer, and a proclaimer; become a warrior against hunger and hopelessness and evil.  Be a Light Bearer in the darkness around us.

“Do that for Love’s sake and believe me, you will find yourself on the side of the Angels…you will be Messengers of God, bearers of good tidings, protectors and lovers of God and God’s people. And the angels will rejoice!

“That’s probably good enough!”

You bet it is, Andrew. You bet it is.


Friday, September 30, 2022

Saint Michael and All Angels - September 29

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY

Br. Randy Greve, OHC

Feast of St Michael and All Angels - September 29, 2022



In When I saw that I was assigned to preach for the feast today, I remembered that I had preached on this day a few years ago. Because we keep a monastery blog of the audio and text of our sermons, I searched and found that the previous sermon was in 2017. For whatever reason, after I preach, I largely forget about what I have said and move on to the next one. So as if I was reading something for the first time, I found the text from five years ago.


Perhaps one of the reasons I tend to forget my sermons is that preaching for me is very much capturing an unrepeatable moment in time. The occasion and my journey into it will never meet again like this. In the older sermon, I referenced a piece of art - the Peace Fountain, a sculpture next to the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine in New York. The depiction of St. Michael the Archangel there, as in much other art and iconography, has St. Michael holding a sword or spear and overwhelming the dragon, Satan, as described in the reading from the Revelation to John.


I simply asked, “what does this mean = an angel waging war against the dragon Satan?” I had been studying the topic of the Bible and violence for some time and took that opportunity to summarize some of what I had been learning. The triumph of justice over sin and evil and the coming of God’s realm of peace wrenches the cosmos and changes the very character of life on earth, now joined with heaven.

Today I meet the feast through an encounter with a quite different rendering of St. Michael. The image before us is from a church in Spain, date unknown, that hangs in my office here in the monastery. No sword or spear or war or violence here, no obvious symbolism that this is St. Michael other than Art.com’s word for it. It visualizes an authentic theology of angels: present, yet mysterious; benevolent, but slightly intimidating; human-like while at the same time seeming to step into our material world from some foreign place.


Whether the glass has darkened with age and dirt or whether the artist created it that way, the contrast of the ominous and impenetrable surrounding with a face of such peace and bliss endlessly fascinates me. Just as with the Peace Fountain sculpture, we can ask, “what does this mean?”

To approach an answer to that question it may be helpful to revisit a bit of the theology of creation itself. Theologians often begin with the question, “why did God create at all?” Was God lonely? Did God want a world of submissive, subservient beings to inflate God’s ego?


No. God’s nature is to give, to share glory, to be revealed in goodness, truth, and beauty. The creation is the gift and sign of God’s being as limitless generosity, abundance, and blessing to all. God did not create to control or dominate, but to delight. God delights in and with us as we enjoy the good things of creation. God creates humans because God can. God enjoys us. God created angels to share in the beauty of all that God has made, so that angels will enjoy being angels just as we enjoy being human. So we share a similar and complementary vocation with the angels; to inhabit the meaning and work of our place in the cosmic order that God’s fullest intent and purpose for making us will be made known in us and directed back to our Creator as praise and glory. The existence and appearance of angels gives us clues about what the universe is for and the character of the God who made it.

The assigned readings cast angels in the roles of sign-bearers of God’s communion between heaven and earth. The way they witness is by moving - moving up and down. The Genesis reading of Jacob’s ladder dream has angels “ascending and descending on it.” In the Gospel reading, the Lord echoes Jacob’s dream when he tells Nathanael that “you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.” In the three-tiered universe of the Bible, the spiritual realm was up in the sky above and the realm of evil, death, sometimes called the abyss or sea, “down”. So the significance of the angels ascending and descending becomes a way of describing a connection between the unseen, spiritual “above” and the tangible, earthly of our physical world. Most ancient religions would have created a process of purification, training, or knowledge to attain a glimpse of heaven.


Jacob’s dream and Nathanael’s prophecy are not earned by their goodness, possessed by human power, discerned by human understanding. Rather the dream and prophecy are God’s gift bestowed freely for God’s glory and honor into and through human witnesses who share in the heavenly vision of a world beyond what we can see and touch and contain. It is not a stretch to say that this ascending and descending are happening everywhere all the time, unseen by our physical eyes. The angels appear in a particular time and place not so that we will seek to contain that time and place, but, like all sacred places and acts, to point beyond themselves to a God who is happy to be everywhere all the time.


The God who desires to be known as mystery sends messengers to unveil the invitation to covenant. The reading from Revelation adds an interesting twist to this communion between heaven and earth. The angels who war against heaven are thrown down to earth, but do not ascend. Something tragic has been lost in their act. They now become beings who rebel against and harm the creation that previously was the source of delight. It seems even the heavenly beings have a degree of freedom to worship or not.

Finally, this feast is a reminder that liturgy invites us into two main responses. First, we hear and enact the prophetic call to amend our ways and live in reconciliation and peace with our brothers and sisters. The imperatives of scripture give content to our desire to love God and neighbor faithfully. The second and equally important task is less about doing and more about being. Today is such a day. Our task is to pause, look, listen, be awed to wonder and praise at the lavish blessing and beauty of being gifted to taste, even now, the eternal gladness of the glory of God with the angels. Amen.


Friday, October 1, 2021

Saint Michael and All Angels - September 29, 2021

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY

Br. Josép Martinez-Cubero, OHC

Saint Michael and All Angels - Wednesday, September 29, 2021





Oración Al Angel De La Guarda

Angel de mi guarda 
oh mi dulce compañía 
no me desampares ni de 
noche ni de día hasta que 
me entregues en los brazos 
de Jesús y de María. Con 
tus alas me persigno y me 
abrazo de la Cruz y en 
mi corazón me llevo al 
dulcísimo Jesús.
Amén.

(Guardian Angel, my sweet companion, do not desert me during the night or during the day, until you deliver me into the arms of Jesus and Mary. With your wings I make the sign of the cross and embrace it, and in my heart a carry my sweet Jesus. ~Amen)

I was a very devout little boy growing up in Puerto Rico, and this is a prayer I said on my knees by my bedside every night. I looked for the English version of the prayer and it does not seem to exist. The prayers to the Guardian Angel in English are very different. So, what you just heard is my own translation.

We all have either talked about or heard someone talk about guardian angels. And we have either experienced or heard about what is described as ‘third person’ experiences, following a line in T.S. Eliot’s poem, The Wasteland: ‘Who is the third who walks always beside you? When I count, there are only you and I together. But when I look ahead up the white road, there is always another one walking beside you’.

I must admit that the Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels is one of my favorites. For one thing, the music for the antiphons of the Offices is awesome. And the texts are awe-inspiring and remind us that the richness and diversity of God's creation far exceeds what our eyes can see, or our rational minds can comprehend. I said I was a very devout little boy, and then, I became an actor, of the operatic kind, so you know, that’s drama times four! The older I get the more aware I seem to become of the mysterious cosmic drama we are all are part of. There is a much bigger picture that we mostly don’t pay attention to or think about. 

The lectionary today treats us to three familiar scripture stories about angels: the story of Jacob’s ladder; the story of the war in heaven in which Michael, leading the angels (the good ones!), beats the dragon, Satan, the deceiver of the whole world and his angels (the bad ones!); and finally, the gospel story of Jesus telling Nathanael that he will see something like Jacob’s ladder, “ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.” 

But accounts in both, the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Testament, of created beings other than humans who worship God in heaven and act as God’s messengers and agents on earth abound. We are not told much about them, and it is not clear how much of what is told is figurative, but it is all, nevertheless, important truth. In the Hebrew Scriptures, it is occasionally reported that someone saw a person who spoke to them with authority, and who they then realized was no mere human, but a messenger or agent of God. The word for “messenger” in Hebrew is malach, in Greek, angelos, from which the word "angel" derives. 

Angels have appeared to Abraham, Lot, Daniel, Zechariah, the Virgin Mary, and to those at Jesus’ tomb on the morning of the Resurrection. Angels have spoken to prophets, closed the mouths of lions, forced donkeys off their paths (remember that one?), appeared in dreams, guarded a garden, and killed off enemies of God’s people.

There are specific kinds of angels identified in the Hebrew Scriptures. The Cherubim (who apparently are not cute chubby babies!)– one of whom is placed with a flaming sword to guard the gateway to the Garden of Eden in Genesis (Ch. 3) and who are said to flank or support God’s throne as, for example, in Hezekiah’s prayer in the book of the Prophet Isaiah (Ch. 37). The Seraphim – whom Isaiah describes as having “six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew,” and who sing God’s praises at the heavenly throne.

We know the names of the archangels: Gabriel, who is named in the Book of Daniel and identified in the Gospel of Luke as the angel of the Annunciation; Raphael, who is identified as a companion and advisor to Tobias in the apocryphal Book of Tobit; Uriel, who was sent to test the prophet Ezra according to the apocryphal Second Book of Esdras; and Michael, who is the leader of God’s angel army in today’s passage from Revelation.

According to the Book of Job, angels were created before the physical world: in questioning Job, God asks him if he was there when the foundations of the earth were put in place, “when the morning stars sang together and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?” 

So, we know a lot about angels, but why do we venerate them? What is the value to us of remembering the Holy Angels? What can we learn from them? Angels prick our conscience and point in the right direction so that we can recognize and follow the will of God. They connect heaven and earth, climbing up and down that ladder, which is Christ, drawing us closer to the Divine Presence, and opening our eyes to God. Demons, those bad angels who chose to disobey God and be God’s enemies, remind us that the higher we are the lower we can fall. The greater our gifts and talents, the greater the damage if we use them with the wrong intensions and without humility. 
 
In his book, “The Better Angels of Our Nature”, a phrase taken from the conclusion of Abraham Lincoln’s first inaugural address in 1861, Harvard psychologist Steven Pinker named four of these “better angels:”

Empathy, which “prompts us to feel the pain of others and to align their interests with our own”
Self-control, which “allows us to anticipate the consequences of acting on our impulses” and thus to regulate those impulses
Moral sense, which “sanctifies a set of norms and taboos that govern the interactions among people”
Reason, which “allows us to extract ourselves from our parochial vantage points.”

These are a sort of modern merging of the nine attributes St. Paul called the “fruit of the Spirit”: love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. (Galatians 5:22-23) It is through these fruits and gifts that human conscience is informed, and conscience, as Thomas Merton said, “is the light by which we interpret the will of God in our own lives.” (No Man Is an Island)

We can learn much from angels as the prompters of our conscience, as the “better angels” of empathy, moral sense, self-control, and reason, as the communicators of the gifts and fruits of the Spirit, and as mediators of God’s presence in the Church. But perhaps most importantly, angels help lead us to the passion of Christ and the cross. And this is important because it is only through embracing the cross that we find our way to God. 

So, as our beloved Brother Andrew Colquhoun once said, if you don’t believe in angels, then for Christ’s sake become one. Become a healer, and a proclaimer; become a warrior against hunger and hopelessness and evil; be a Light Bearer in the darkness around us. And remember to always “show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. (Hebrews 13:2) 

¡Que así sea, en el nombre del Padre, del Hijo y del Espíritu Santo!

Amen+

Thursday, October 1, 2020

Saint Michael and All Angels - September 29, 2020

 Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY

The Rev. Matthew Wright, OHC



Today's is a strange feast--especially for those of us who live in the conditions we call modernity and post-modernity, in which we have reduced the size and scope and deconstructed the symbols and meanings of the world or worlds in which we live.  Modern human beings live in a severely diminished reality, often leading atrophied existences with atrophied hearts.  

We live with the constant underlying anxiety that perhaps there is no coherence or ultimate meaning to the story in which we live, and we fear that any story we tell that attempts to bring coherence to our lives is really only the imaginings of a desperate and fearful mind.

And angels, whom we celebrate today, certainly seem to be relics, holdovers, from a now discredited or naive worldview.  Recurrent characters throughout our Scriptures, named angels with different roles and functions and orders don't begin showing up in the Hebrew imagination until after the Babylonian exile, which the Jewish people entered in the year 586 BCE, and during which they were introduced to the elaborate angelologies of the Zoroastrian tradition.  And their imaginations were sparked.  We see a burst of spiritual and scriptural creativity that grows out of that exilic period.

And in the Zoroastrian tradition they encountered, Ahura Mazda, the transcendent Lord of Light, though transcendent, maintained contact with the world by means of his seven attributes the Amesha Spentas, who were at one and the same time beings or deities in their own right, but also aspects of Ahura Mazda.  And it seems obvious to scholars that these seven Amesha Spentas are the precursors to the seven archangels of Jewish and Christian tradition: Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael, etc.

And similarly, these seven, while appearing as separate beings, have been understood in strands of the Jewish mystical tradition as the modes through which the Infinite God interacts with the finite world--and so they essentially become the Names or attributes of God, and we see this in their naming: Raphael literally means "God [El] heals"--and so Raphael is the healing power of God as it meets the world; Gabriel--Gavri-el--means "the strength of God"--and so when the Divine Strength meets the world, it meets it as Gabriel; Uriel means "the Light of God"--and so on.

And so this is why there's some confusion at times in the Scriptures when an angel interacts with a human being--was Jacob wrestling with God or with an angel?  Yes.  Angels are the means, the modes, the attributes, the Names of the Nameless.  They are that which connect the finite with the Infinite--which is exactly how we hear them described in our two passages from Genesis and the Gospel of John--ascending and descending on Jacob's Ladder, ascending and descending on the Son of Man--linking and maintaining a continual exchange between worlds or realms.

In his book The Angelic Way, Rabbi Rami Shapiro points out that the ladder in Jacob's dream is a universal or archetypal symbol showing up across our religious traditions, signifying "the Great Chain of Being" ascending from our dense physical world through the subtle, angelic realms to our Divine Source itself.  So we can see this ladder as symbolizing all the gradations of existence--all the realms or worlds that are--but we can also see it as a ladder that is within each of us--the different realms of consciousness, from our most constricted sense of egoic selfhood, concerned only with defense and survival, to the most subtle and spacious awareness of our unity with God and all creation.

And Rabbi Rami points out that classical rabbinic commentators stated that the ladder extended not simply from the earth but from Jacob's body, again emphasizing that this is a ladder emerging from within him, from within us.  He writes: "The angels in Jacob's vision both descend and ascend up from the human body, suggesting that angels are not simply the imaginings of the human mind, but rather the human imagination itself.  Angels, at least the way the rabbis viewed them, are not symbols for something else, but the source of symbol making itself.  Angels are not figments of the imagination, but the capacity for imagination."

Angels are not figments of the imagination, but the capacity for imagination.  Now it's important that we understand that imagination in these mystical traditions was understood as an actual faculty of perception.  It didn't simply refer to the "imaginary" or "make believe" as we tend to hear it, but to the imaginal.  The "imaginal realm" was understood as that intermediate zone connecting, linking, our world of density with the more subtle, spiritual realms.  It was the realm of images, symbols, and meaning--the realm accessed in prophecy, dreams, and visions.  And it was not diminished as a purely or merely "subjective" but understood as an objective and real inner landscape of meaning that we can access through the faculty of imagination--or, in other words, by way or means of the angels.

Again, Rami tells us that in the Jewish mystical tradition angels can be understood as "not physical entities but imaginative faculties"--that capacity to ascend and descend the Chain of Being and the realms of consciousness.  He continues, "What is the ultimate state toward which we are to climb when we dare to climb out of our own heads on our own ladders?  Our answer is that we climb from ego-centered mind to world-centered soul to God-centered spirit."

When we climb out of our own heads.  And this, I believe, is the great tragedy of the times we live in--our reality has become so atrophied, atomized, and reduced that we've lost contact with the angels, we live only in our own heads and the confines or our egos.  From that confined, cramped, claustrophobic perspective, greed, consumption, and selfishness are the order of the day, we shut down the exchange that's meant to go on between the worlds, and creativity, compassion, and expansiveness of spirit die.

This is where we have arrived culturally, at a polarized impass in a system that is eating itself because it no longer knows how to receive food from above.  And so we desperately need a return of the angels--of imagination, creativity, and connection.  It is absolutely essential in both of these visions of Jacob and Jesus that the angels ascend and descend--that there is a continual exchange between the realms.  I'm convinced that those higher--or call them deeper, if you prefer--realms exist, and that the exchange between them is necessary for the maintenance of our hearts and our world.  We human beings are the agents of that exchange; it's the role we are given to play in creation.  And when we fail to do our part to open to that world of imagination and meaning, our world here begins to break down--and we are reaching a near critical system failure right now.

We need Raphael, the Healing of God; Uriel, the Light of God; Selaphiel, the Prayer and Intercession of God; we need these angels ascending and descending.  We need to return to that wider universe of meaning, which is the actual food that our lives and our world need to maintain equilibrium and balance.  As the Prophet said, "Without vision--without the angelic, imaginative faculty open and online--the people perish.

But I am also convinced that the need goes in both directions along that Great Chain of Being.  When the ladder between worlds is broken, God goes hungry also.  Many of you know that over the past several months I spent a good deal of time with the 14th century mystic Julian of Norwich, in preparation for a retreat I led on her revelations this past August.  One of the most beloved passages from her writings is her parable of the Lord and Servant, in which a servant is sent out to do the will of his Lord, and in his excitement, running to do the Lord's will, he falls into a "slade," which is a space, a valley, between two banks.  And for Julian it symbolizes our movement into, our "fall" into, finitude, into this world.  We can imagine the banks of the slade being the banks of time and space, of constriction and density; it's this end of the Chain of Being.  But she sees surprisingly that the Lord is not judging the servant for this "fall" down the ladder of being--but rather gazing only with love, and even anticipation, seeing a deeper purpose and potential in this world.

She writes, "there was a treasure in the earth which the lord loved.  I marveled and imagined what it could be.  And I was answered in my understanding: "It is a food which is lovely and pleasant to the lord."  Now at this point, some commentators on Julian get uneasy.  For example, Fr. John-Julian, of the Order of Julian of Norwich, who's one of her best interpreters, he says "The food allegory is a challenging and somewhat forced one."  Well, why?  Because we assume that the Divine is impassable and has no yearnings or appetites whatsoever.  What "food" could God possibly want or need?

Well, Lady Julian continues, "For I saw the lord sit as a man, but I saw neither food nor drink wherewith to serve him; that was a wonder."  And again, Fr. John-Julian weighs in: "Julian shows naivete in noticing that the lord had no provisions in sight, and no one to serve him food and drink.  She is transferring to the vision her own cultural experience of a lord and his servants."

He's saying that Julian is just being naive in saying that there was no food or drink in the Divine Court to be served to the Lord.  But there's a very significant point being made here that we miss because of our metaphysical preassumptions: Julian is telling us that the "food" that the Divine desires cannot be produced in the heavenly realms.  There is something that can only be brought forth from within the conditions and limitations of finitude.  Julian writes of it as "fruits" that grow here and that we are to garden, and we might imagine these as St. Paul's "fruits of the Spirit"--love, gentleness, kindness, patience.  But the amazing thing Julian says is that these are the fruits God is longing to eat.

Classically, we've imagined that we need nourishment from up the Chain of Being, but have we been so daring as to imagine that God longs for nourishment from down the Chain of Being?  That there's a fulfilment happening in both directions as the angels ascend and descend Jacob's Ladder?  That the Names of God, the qualities, the attributes of God, exist as potential within the Ground of Being, but that it's only here that they can take on expression?  It's the difference between the rose seed and the fully blossomed rose.

But most of traditional theology jumps off the rails of Julian's train-track about right here, because the need can't go in both directions.  But Julian speaks unflinchingly about the yearning, thirsting, and hunger in God.  She writes, "For the thirst of God is to have the whole of humankind within Godself.  That same thirst has already drawn and drunk many holy souls, who now dwell in endless bliss.  God is always gathering his living members, drawing and drinking, and yet still he thirsts and yearns!"  A God who wants to devour the ripened fruit of our lives offered back up the Chain of Being.  Have you ever said to someone, "I'll eat you up I love you so much!"  Julian is saying that that's what God is saying to us!

Well if the angels are none other than the Names of God, we see those Names being sent down the Chain of Being as food for the world; we devour them and they are planted in the soil of our hearts to germinate, grow, and ripen as food offered back up the chain to God.  And in this, the whole Ray of Creation stays in harmony and balance, each end finding fulfillment in the other.  But I fear that we have stopped holding up our end of the bargain; we have stopped believing in angels; we are no longer receiving the food from that other realm, and so God goes hungry, and our world begins to eat itself.

Our salvation can only be found in climbing out of our heads, from ego-centered mind to world-centered soul to God-centered spirit.  We can't solve the problems we face from within a closed and polarized system.  We have to learn to open again to that ladder of meaning and imagination.  And so may we move out of the tight, constricted world we take to be the limits of reality, cry out to our angels, and set the exchange back in motion.  

And so, St. Michael, pray for us.  St. Gabriel, pray for us.  St. Uriel, pray for us.  St. Raphael, pray for us.  All the holy angels, pray for us.  Amen.

Monday, September 30, 2019

Saint Michael and All Angels - Sunday, September 29, 2019

Holy Cross MonasteryWest Park, NY
Br. Robert Sevensky, OHC
Saint Michael and All Angels - Sunday, September 29, 2019

Genesis 28:10-17
Revelation 12:7-12
John 1:47-51

Click here for an audio version of the sermon.

I want to being with two quotes. The first, which we heard yesterday at Vespers, comes from St. Bernard of Clairvaux, who wrote in the 12th century:
“Today we celebrate the feast of the angels, and you wish me to preach to you a sermon worthy of the occasion. But how can we poor earthworms speak worthily of angelic spirits?”
The second is from the Anglican Church of Canada's equivalent of Lesser Feasts and Fasts:
“Many good and faithful Christians find it difficult to accept the existence of angels; for them, angels have no more reality in fact than unicorns, griffins, or the phoenix. It may be true that the existence of angels is not one of the things in which Christians must believe if they want to be saved. Yet whenever Christians say the Nicene Creed, they confess that God has created “all that is, seen and unseen.” Entertaining the possibility of angels may be one way of acknowledging the sheer diversity of life, visible and invisible, that God has ordained in creation.” (For All the Saints, 2007)
I preached last year on this same feast, and as I approached today's sermon I felt that I had exhausted then all that I had to say about angels and angelic spirits. But that is of course untrue. There is a cornucopia of literature about these mysterious beings, not only in Christianity but in also inter-testamental and later Judaism and in the ancient and contemporary religions of the Near East and beyond. And if you don't believe me, just Google “angels.”

Why should this be? I think because we are all looking for deep connection, and angels are one way of speaking about that great connection or re-connection between earth and heaven, between the natural and the supernatural, between us and God. The image of Jacob's ladder upon which angels ascend and descend could not be clearer. And for Christians, that ladder is nothing other than the Cross of Jesus Christ, as the marvelous hymn we just sang tells us: “Alleluia to Jesus who died on the tree and has raised up a ladder of mercy for me.” A ladder of love that re-connects all the cosmos to its primal and originating Source.

But if that be true, then any acceptable talk of angels must point us always beyond them to God and specifically to God as reveled most fully in Jesus Christ. When speaking of angels, it is very easy to get caught up in esoteric speculation about the existential status of these beings, their hierarchies, their fascinating influences on human beings, both bad (as we hear in the stories of Satan and other spiritual forces of wickedness) and good (which we celebrate today with Michael and all the spiritual forces serving a holy God). In fact, complex speculation on celestial spirits played a large role in the Gnostic religious systems that were the main competitors of an emerging Christianity in the ancient world.

But what if we took to heart the words of St. Gregory of Rome who, writing in the 6th century, tells us that the word “angel” means messenger and that it denotes not a nature but a function. Whatever these spirits may be, it is their message that makes them angels and it is their message that we celebrate today. So I ask you to consider this morning what is their message, both for ancient times and for us today.

Having seen it on the internet, I know for a fact that there are 23 interactions between human beings and angels in the four Gospel narratives, though there are other references to angelic beings throughout the Scriptures of both Testaments. What do the angels tell us in these interactions? What is their message? I think there are five pretty clear ones.

The first is: “Don't be afraid!” This is repeated over and over to put at some ease our hearts when they come close to a message from the living God. And how much we need to hear that message in this age and in every age. Don't be afraid. And why?

Because the angels tell us that they are here to proclaim good news...sometimes disturbing or disruptive or inconvenient—as, for example, “You're going to have a baby”--but in the end good, good for everybody. News that God is with us, dwells with us, comes to be among us: “Behold I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be unto all people...”

Thirdly, the message of the angels is sometimes, as it was to Joseph: “Get out. Move on. Use your best skills and strength and wits to get to a safer home, a better place in life for you and for those you love.”

Fourthly, there is the message that God comforts us in affliction, as God in God's angels comforted Jesus after his temptations in the wilderness and in that time of great temptation which was the Garden of Gethsemane. Who knows what those comforting angels looked like to Jesus or to us? Invisible maybe. Maybe another person or a part of creation, but comfort nonetheless. We have all known such comfort. And I suspect that, perhaps unbeknownst to you, you have been just such an angel to another or to a suffering, unjust or imperiled society or planet.

And finally, and perhaps most central is the message of the angels that tells: “Christ is risen: he is not here! Go to Galilee, you will meet him there and not in this graveyard.” It is the great message of hope that we all long for, the proclamation that the final word for us all is not Death but Life, abundant Life, Life and Love overflowing.

Yes, these are ancient messages, but they are as new and as necessary and as welcome today as they were in two thousand years ago. Don't focus on the messengers. Focus on the message.

Oh, and there is one other message from the angels, given at the beginning of the Book of Acts. You may remember it. The apostles were watching as Jesus ascended into heaven, gazing upward, and suddenly two men in white robes stood by them and said: “Men of Galilee, why do you stand gazing up toward heaven?” In other words, get a move on, there is work to be done, lives to be lived, folks to be loved and a message to be spread.  As the revised St. Augustine's Prayer Book so nicely puts it:
Remember Christian Soul 
that today and every day you have 
God to glorify. 
Jesus to imitate. 
Salvation to work out with fear and trembling. 
A body to use rightly. 
Sins to repent. 
Virtues to acquire. 
Eternity to hold in mind. 
Time to profit by. 
Neighbors to serve. 
The world to enjoy. 
Creation to use rightly. 
Kindnesses to offer willingly. 
Justice to strive for. 
Temptations to overcome. 
Death perhaps to suffer. 
In all things, God’s love to sustain you.
So let's get a move on. And may the angels guide, guard and protect us all.

Amen.

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 . . . .

Saturday, September 30, 2017

Saint Michael and All Angels- September 29

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Randy Greve, OHC
St Michael and all Angels -  Friday, September  29, 2017


Br. Randy Greve, OHC
The paper you have is a photo stolen from Google of the Peace Fountain next to the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine in New York City. There is no water around the sculpture so it is not technically a fountain, and it depicts an angel with a sword and the nearly severed head of Satan, which may not be some folks' image of peace, but that is what it is called! The plaque at the fountain reads thus: "Peace Fountain by Greg Wyatt celebrates the triumph of Good over Evil, and sets before us the world's opposing forces—violence and harmony, light and darkness, life and death—which God reconciles in his peace. When the fountain operates, four courses of water cascade down the freedom pedestal into a maelstrom evoking the primordial chaos of Earth. 

Foursquare around the base, flames of freedom rise in witness to the future. Ascending from the pool, the freedom pedestal is shaped like the double helix of DNA, the key molecule of life. Atop the pedestal a giant crab reminds us of life's origins in sea and struggle. Facing West, a somnolent Moon reflects tranquility from a joyous Sun smiling to the East. The swirls encircling the heavenly bodies bespeak the larger movements of the cosmos with which earthly life is continuous. 


 The Peace Fountain 

Nine giraffes—among the most peaceable of animals—nestle and prance about the center. One rests its head on the bosom of the winged Archangel Michael, described in the bible as the leader of the heavenly host against the forces of Evil. St. Michael's sword is vanquishing his chief opponent, Satan, whose decapitated figure plunges into the depths, his head dangling beneath the crab's claw. Tucked away next to the Sun, a lion and lamb relax together in the peace of God's kingdom, as foretold by the prophet Isaiah."

I know not all my brothers share my enthusiasm and devotion for the aesthetics of the sculpture, but none can deny that its dramatic lines and graphic contrasts are visually arresting and are meant to inspire or even provoke some further reflection. It really merits a visit to see all the way around it. I hope you will take the photo and continue to delve into the mystery depicted in the sculpture.

This feast of St Michael and all angels is unavoidably mystical and homiletically tricky because of the cryptic and symbolic nature of the Bible's language of angels and their activities. The other principal feasts of the Church are celebrations of events in the life of our Lord or his Church or doctrines which tend to lend themselves to some clear themes for preaching. Today's celebration invites a cosmic perspective as a reminder that we are part of an eternal drama that is described in metaphorical language yet also says something concrete about our world and our lives. 

Today we remember that within the mystery and wonder of God's creation exist beings and activities that are beyond our earth and time-bound selves to see or fully understand.That does not mean we can say nothing at all about angels or their interaction with earth, but that we first must be careful not to say too much, not to stretch the texts beyond their intent to fit our preconceived expectations. We can say that angels are created beings, that they are participants in the heavenly praise of God, that they interact with humans as God sends them to communicate and protect, that Satan is a creature, a fallen angel who once knew the life of heaven but who chose to rebel and fight against God and God's creation but who, through the victory of the cross, has limited power to accuse and deceive until the final redemption of the world which will bring about his annihilation.

The event in the sculpture is obviously taken from the reading from the Revelation to John we just heard. I know that the Revelation makes some Christians nervous because its depiction of a violent God pouring out various kinds of wrathful punishment on rebellious humans is not an appealing image and seems inconsistent with the mercy and kindness of Jesus. It seems like there are two completely different stories going on so being the "either/or" culture we are, a choice must be made. While the violence is there and troubling, Revelations' larger agenda is to describe in the most urgent and graphic way possible the triumph of the kingdom over whatever earthly empires, political forces, or systems and acts of evil that seek to thwart it.

The violence, within the narrative, serves to illustrate the reality of sin and evil and the greater reality of a God who alone can overcome it. As heaven witnesses the justice of God, they praise God's intervention in conquering evil and bringing ultimate and eternal peace. Revelation is the bookend, God's answer to what was created for goodness and fell into sin in Genesis. If the earth is formed from formlessness and void and darkness at the beginning, then Revelation is the final and ultimate undoing and overcoming of the forces and systems that have brought pain and alienation. The war in heaven and the casting out of Satan is one more event in this liturgy of redemption and the coming of the kingdom in its fullness.

Our Holy Communion liturgy in the Book of Common Prayer acknowledges the angels by simply saying "with" before we sing "Holy, holy, holy", which is a reference to Isaiah 6 and Revelation 4, the words of angels and the saints in heaven. In the presence of the meeting of earth and heaven we acknowledge and celebrate that we are not alone - we are not only this gathered community but we are joining in the eternal chorus of heaven already in progress that includes the departed and the angels, a vast company that is, in their life beyond time and space, aware of and attentive to our worship.

So the cosmic drama of redemption sweeps us up into its action and voice in anticipation of the coming new heaven and new earth. This feast is a reminder that the worship due and given to God alone is shared by the living and the departed, humans and angels, across time and eternity, and, because it is created and redeemed by God, all creation as well - sun, moon, earth, wind, water, sky, stars, planets, galaxies - all of it joined in one eternal chorus of praise.

The cultural voice is that spirituality is principally about my individual experience with God based on my beliefs and feelings which meet my needs. The challenge of today is the question, what would it mean to recognize the corporate nature of my prayer and move from an exclusive "What about me?" To an entering into being with angels, archangels and all the company of heaven - not just at the altar, but all the time? To do this means that we become aware of that which does not share in the company of heaven - Satan and his angels. We are with the heavenly chorus which is a chorus of victory.

The two qualities of the Peace Sculpture that most attract me are the contrast of St. Michael's arms - one with the sword and the other embracing the giraffe – metaphors for what has been and what will be. The other is the dragon's dangling head. Satan is disabled, mortally wounded, but not annihilated, he is still there. This symbol of God's power and victory over whatever tempts and harms God's people is also a source of praise. The praise is that we are not mere victims of our weaknesses, we are not powerless in the face of trials, but we are victors with St. Michael in a world where sin and evil are still present, but where pain and alienation are not ultimate and do not have the last word. 

When we pray with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, we join in their song of the victory that is won, yet not yet fully claimed. We join in the celebration of sin's defeat even as we groan for our redemption and lament our own failures to enter this song and this victory.  Both the sword and the giraffe are parts of our praise.  This good news does not deny the presence and problem of evil, but sets it within an eschatological context of victory and hope.

As co-celebrants with the angels in their praise of God and the victory over the dragon, we are not merely observers of this sculpture, but participants in its drama - its story is our story and its hope for a new world is the hope that sustains our praise.  Amen.

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Saint Michael and All Angels- Thursday, September 29 , 2016

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Robert Sevensky, OHC 
Saint Michael and All Angels - Thursday, September 29, 2016



Holy Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our protection against the malice and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do thou,O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust down to hell Satan, and all the evil spirits, who roam the world  seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.

This prayer might be familiar to Roman Catholics of a certain age and also to Anglo-Catholics. It appears in all past and present editions of St. Augustine's Prayer Book.

It turns out, however, not to be a very old prayer.  Pope Leo XIII--he who famously declared Anglican ordinations “absolutely null  and utterly void”--wrote it and ordered it said beginning in 1884 after low masses along with a number of Hail Mary's and other prayers with the explicit intention for the restoration of the Papal States and later (1929), for the Catholic Church in Russia. Its use was suppressed in 1965. So it's just a blip in the history of church liturgical practice or devotional piety.  And only liturgy wonks like myself tend to know it.  Yet I find the prayer strangely comforting and reassuring and say it fairly often. 

I think part of the reason is that it offers a somewhat more sturdy picture of angels than what we find in recent popular culture. I'm not sure we want to be touched by this particular angel. This is not an angel with a chubby face or soft, downy wings. This angel is a warrior, the leader of the heavenly armies: 

“War broke out in heaven; Michael and his angels fought against the dragon. The dragon and his angels fought back, but they were defeated, and there was no longer any place for them in heaven.”  (Rev. 12:7-8)

In the Biblical and spiritual traditions beginning with late Judaism, but also in Persian and other contemporary religions and continuing into Christian piety, angels have played an important role.
 
    As the very word angel suggests, angels announce. They serve as messengers of the Most High, bringing warnings or news—hopefully good news—or consolations, often in dreams or visions. 
   They serve, they minister, as we hear in the letter to the Hebrews.They cooperate with God in the work of creation to bring God's will to pass and serve as cosmic witnesses to the mighty acts of God.
   They worship God ceaselessly, and in our worship we do indeed join our voices with angels and archangels and the whole company of heaven. 
   They connect heaven and earth, as we hear in today's Gospel, climbing up and down that stairway or ladder which is Christ, guiding us into right relationship with God and with God's creation, including with our own selves. 
   They guard and protect, as we hear in various Gospel passages, especially regarding the safety of “the little ones”...hence the idea of guardian angels, perhaps each of us having one appointed by God to accompany us and keep us on our ways.
   They heal, as we hear in the story of Tobit or in the Jesus' reference to the troubling of the waters by an angel at the pool.

They DO all this, they ARE all this. 

And this very talk of angels challenges our pedestrian and limited ideas of reality, suggesting that there is more—much more—than either our eyes can see or our minds can fathom.  Even if there were no angels, then, we might need to invent them just so that we could protect this opening toward the great metaphysical unknown that intersects our lives from time to time, or perhaps always.  I know people who have had experiences of angels.  Some of you are here right now, people who know of those uncanny times when we have been saved from disaster or plucked from danger or delivered from our own foolishness and brought, against all odds, to a place of calm and safety.  We can't quite explain such experiences, except to say that God was there and acting through some power or person or force, visible or invisible, that saved or changed our lives.  I know this for a fact.
 
But there is more. Because, as our Leonine prayer reminds us, the angels fight, they do battle, they strive against evil, they work for good.

Of course the imagery may be primitive and even dangerous.  But it may be all the more cogent for that.

We live in an age that shrinks away from religious imagery or language having to do with struggle, with spiritual combat, with invisible warfare, though it's an integral part of ascetical theology.  Maybe it's because we have become more sensitive to the real costs of war and the carnage it brings that we resist using such language.  Maybe it's because we are aware of how easily military imagery is transformed into militarism and narrow nationalism or religiously inspired terrorism.  I think of Jimmy Carter's speech in 2002 when he accepted the Nobel Peace Prize and concluded by saying:  
“War may sometimes be a necessary evil. But no matter how necessary, it is always an evil, never a good. We will not learn how to live together in peace by killing each other's children.” 
Yet we are in a spiritual struggle, a cosmic battle, engaged in spiritual warfare. My own small battles fought against my recurring vices and quotidian sins is part of a larger conflict, the dimensions of which exceed my grasp, my understanding. The systemic sins that mark our society and our world—poverty, racism, sexism, disposable people, disposable nations...we know the litany, and that only scratches the surface. And yet we are called to engage in this battle, using as weapons those outlined by St. Paul: truth, justice, righteousness, humility, love.  But we must not deceive ourselves; it is a battle, a struggle. And though the outcome may be assured, the way is long and the burden is heavy (especially for some) and the cost is high.   

And here's where St. Michael and the angels come in.  Because whatever else these angelic beings may be, they are fighters, they are warriors.  And they are fighting with us and maybe even within us in our struggles.  And they are fighting for us, for all God's creation, against forces and patterns and yes, even against that one we call Satan, “the enemy of our human nature” as Ignatius of Loyola describes him, who is not less than personal.  And we are not fighting alone.  God has given us “co-conspirators” in the fellowship of the church and in the wider human community and, beyond our wildest imaginings, in the mighty army of angelic spirits. No, we do not fight alone.

Is this mythology?  Of course it is.  
Is it true? I sure hope so.

Jesus Christ, of course, is the Lord of the battle.  It is in his army that we serve, as St. Benedict teaches.  And “he must win the battle,” as Martin Luther would have us sing.  But he has other helpers as well. You and me.  And right there, in the front ranks, are the angels.  Let us not be afraid to invoke today their fellowship and aid and protection. 

Holy Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our protection against the malice and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do thou,O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust down to hell Satan, and all the evil spirits, who roam the world  seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.