Showing posts with label Scott Borden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scott Borden. Show all posts

Thursday, June 25, 2026

The Nativity of Saint John the Baptist, June 24, 2026

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Scott Wesley Borden

The Nativity of Saint John the Baptist, June 24, 2026

 

Today we keep the feast of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist. And its fun to speculate on what the appropriate menu for this feast might be... What sort of food would John the Baptist want? To be sure, it will have to be something very simple, something with very little taste – perhaps a main course of curdled milk and a desert of locusts and wild honey...

The Baptist's notoriously somber food wishes notwithstanding, the importance of John in the Christian story cannot be overstated. He prepares the world for Jesus and is acclaimed as the greatest profit ever known. We’re part of the story too – it is a story of how we prepare our hearts and minds and bodies to receive Jesus. It is the story for much of Advent, but it is really a story for any time and for all time.

There are a number of details in Luke’s account of the birth of John the Baptist that tell us the story is bigger than John. The fact that John is not to be named after his father is a very important detail – he is, after all, the first-born child. But Zecharia is out. He is to be named John – a name which has its roots in the Greek god of water. Is this subtle foreshadowing – after all, John will baptize with water. Water is also essential to all life as we know it. This may be Luke’s way of showing us that this story touches us all, not only the faithful Jews.

In the story of John’s birth, we have one of the most moving passages in scripture - the Song of Zachariah, also known as the Benedictus. “For you, John, will go before the Lord, bringing knowledge of salvation and light to those who are in darkness. You will lead us in the way of peace.” In our monastic worship, this is a hymn we sing at the start of every day.

This is John who we meet today. The forerunner. The profit called to prepare the world for the coming of Jesus. The one who leads us to peace. But the promise of John is a little different than the reality of John. He is a profit. And he does make the way ready for Jesus. But I’m not sure he leads us in the way of peace – at least not as we think of it. And frankly, I think John’s a bit of an extremist.

He wears sack cloth and covers himself with ashes. He has a diet of locust and wild honey. He leads his followers in a life of denial and fasting. His message is a harsh one – a message of judgement. He greets people with statements like “You brood of vipers...” His judgement against Herodias, the wife of Herod, is so severe that it costs him his life. If John were with us today, I wonder if he’d want to be part of the Episcopal Church, or any Church... Given his assessment of the Herod, I wonder what he might have to say about the leaders of our day.

Many of the things that John does are things that Jesus calls us not to do. Jesus doesn’t lead his followers in this extreme way. When asked why his followers are so much less disciplined than John’s, Jesus says that we are at a banquet and so we must celebrate – something that we will do symbolically in just a few moments at the Eucharist. Most importantly, Jesus does not condemn people, not even the wife of Herod. Jesus is building a congregation of sinners, not of saints.

I do believe Jesus looks with great joy at many churches in our time, even as we struggle. For our struggle is how to be greater in our inclusion – how to draw the circle wide and draw it wider still. The inclusion of Jesus, after all, knows no bounds.

But we still need to focus on John’s story and how it applies to us.

One essential element of John’s story is that he seems utterly uninterested, perhaps even incapable of telling anything but the truth – the whole unvarnished truth. He does not have the spirit of a politician. This is one aspect of the prophetic witness of John that we need. Being polite is one of the great virtues in contemporary Christianity. We didn’t get the from John... nor from Jesus...

If we could come to regard sugarcoating the truth as sin, perhaps fewer children would starve... perhaps fewer school children would be shot, perhaps health care would be universally available in the richest country on earth.

When we begin to encounter God as part of our lives – and I think all of us come to a point where we either begin an adult encounter with God, or we walk away from faith – when we encounter God we tend to respond in extreme terms. How could we do otherwise?

We want to get rid of everything that is ungodly; clean up our lives... And we want others to do the same. We hear the same call that John heard;

build a straight pathway in the wilderness, smooth out the rough places, fill in the potholes and get rid of the wicked folks. But at some point, we learn that Jesus also calls us to a feast, not a fast. And we learn that our purpose is not to build a perfect road. Our purpose is to travel that road with our brothers and sisters and all of God’s creation.

In other words, we must learn how to have a relationship with God. This is a lifelong process. Any relationship takes time and effort to grow strong and whole. Relationships often have clumsy starts and rough patches, but over time they grow deeper and more complex. John the Baptist helps us start the relationship with God, but Jesus teaches us about the deep and abiding love of God.

That is ultimately what John was doing. Welcoming God into his life, welcoming the incarnation of God into this world, welcoming Jesus, who at that time was a highly expected stranger. There were many sets of expectations for the Savior, but they were mostly seriously off the mark. I would just point out that even these days, many of our expectations of Jesus are way off the mark.

But in our different ways we are working to welcome Jesus into our lives through the increasing of love and justice. John is called a profit of the Most High – a title none of us claim. But we are all called by our baptism to be God’s messengers. The message is God’s love. And we must remember that love and justice are eternally linked.    

The call of John the Baptist is a call to all of us through our baptism: Make the world ready, make ourselves ready, shine light in dark places, lead the way to God’s peace. The call doesn’t come from John - it comes through John. That is perhaps the most joyful piece of John’s story - the story of all of us.

God can use us as we are. We can serve as God’s instruments in spite of ourselves.

And if we are a little too harsh, or a bit clumsy, or we muddle the message a bit, it's OK. We can fall down and get back up. Because ultimately, we are messengers, not the message. The message is that God, who is love, is alive and dwells with all creation.

Sunday, April 12, 2026

The Second Sunday of Easter, April 12, 2026

Holy Cross MonasteryWest Park, NY

Br. Scott Wesley Borden

The Second Sunday of Easter, April 12, 2026

 

Here we are on the Second Sunday of Easter – a Sunday that has been traditionally a bit under-loved. In the Anglican tradition it is sometimes known as Low Sunday... It does pale a bit sat next to Easter. And yet there is some important work for this Sunday.

The Gospel Reading has the disciples hiding, as they seem to do a lot these days, in fear of the authorities. The disciples have reason for fear – it is these same authorities who crucified Jesus. Peter, in particular, has lied through his teeth to deny Jesus, so great was his fear. Fear is a big part of our Easter experience, but not a highlight...

Jesus comes to the disciples and presents them with his wounds. Well – that is to say, most of the disciples. Judas is gone. And Thomas is off doing something. So, Thomas misses the close encounter with the wounds. He also misses the first stirring of the Holy Spirit when Jesus breathes on them. These days it is not too clear, but back then Spirit and Breath were absolutely understood to be the same thing. In word and deed Jesus covers the disciples with the Holy Spirit.

Apparently, Jesus makes a quick exit as we hear nothing more from him for the time being. Jesus goes and Thomas returns. The disciples immediately tell Thomas that they have seen the Lord. Thomas seems not to believe them – and why should he. What they are telling him is impossible. He declares that if he doesn’t see the wounds for himself, he will not believe.

But the next week, when the disciples are once again hiding behind a locked door, Jesus appears – this time with Thomas present. And Jesus makes the first move – he goes right to Thomas and invites him to examine the wounds, even to go so far as to put his fingers in them. John does not tell us if Thomas took up Jesus on this offer... but Thomas is completely convinced.

It's an interesting thing that Jesus knows exactly where Thomas needs to be met. No challenges. No confrontation. Just Jesus essentially saying I know what you need... come see my wounds for yourself. Our loving God in the person of Jesus meets us where we need to be met. Not necessarily where we would like to be met; or in the way we would like to be met; or in the way we find most comfortable.

Sadly, for Thomas, this interaction with Jesus has come to almost totally define his identity – Doubting Thomas. Over about two thousand years Thomas has become the embodiment of doubt, even perhaps an archetype. And yet his actions are quite reasonable. He just wants the experience that the others had – they saw the wounds...

John is a bit vague in the narrative. Is Thomas doubting Jesus? Is he doubting the resurrection? John never tells us that. I suspect what Thomas is doubting is the trustworthiness of his fellow disciples. He doubts that they have seen Jesus. And let's be honest – the disciples have not exactly distinguished themselves as the most trustworthy folks on the planet recently.

Does Thomas earn his nickname “Doubting”? Who can say with any certainty. What we can be certain about is that he takes his faith seriously. Jesus asks “do you believe because you have seen? Blessed are those who have come to believe and yet have not seen.” That would be us – and so I think we owe thanks and gratitude to Thomas.

So, what do we think Thomas may have come to believe? The most obvious answer is that Jesus is Lord and Savior. What might that mean?

Well, it's not all that long ago, last Thursday – Maundy Thursday – to be clear, that Jesus gave us a mandate for how to believe. Jesus called it a new commandment, but in fact it was, even then, a very old commandment: Love one another. The new part is how Jesus clarifies: as I have loved you, so you are to love one another. This is how we are to be known as followers of Jesus. It follows that if we don’t love one another that we cannot be known as followers of Jesus.

But John’s Gospel is not through telling us about love... A few brief chapters later Jesus tells us that if we love Jesus, we will keep God’s commandments. All of this occurs as part of the telling of the Easter story. Clearly John has linked Easter with love. And it would seem we are called to do the same. God so loves the world that his son, his only begotten son, is given to us.

But this year part of the story has hit me a bit differently. Jesus and the Spirit and God are one, so their experiences must be one. Jesus comes to dwell among us so that we can gain experience of God, but also so that God can gain some experience of what it's like to be human, truly human. Our response is to crucify Jesus.

But even after that, God still loves us. God, it seems, handles rejection better than we do... We have done our very best to rid ourselves of God. Not only have we failed, but we have failed to change God’s love toward us. God’s call to us is still that we love God and love our neighbors and ourselves. This hasn’t changed since the Book of Genesis. But at the same time, it appears that we haven’t changed either.

In much of the Hebrew Scripture, our response to anything we didn’t like was to fight. And sadly, that hasn’t changed much either. When I was born the Korean War was mostly over, but in fact, technically, North and South Korea are still at was. On the heels of that came the Vietnam war. Then the Cold War, the war on drugs, the war on poverty, the war on crime. War seems to be our go-to answer for whatever we perceive as a problem.

This way of thinking defines our culture – just as it defined Roman culture in Jesus' time. It pushes our thinking into sorting our world into friends and enemies. But Jesus call to love our enemies notwithstanding. We prefer to crush our enemies. Where is the love in that?

In the so-called war on poverty, poor people were enemy adjacent. But the super-rich were not. And yet, the unjust conditions that create poverty are surely not caused by poor people. Bill Gates and Elon Musk have much more to do with creating poverty than all the poor people in the world.

The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King made clear that as long as we fight in a model that has winners and losers, the fighting can never end. For it will always be up to the winners to defend their stuff and the losers will always be driven to try to become winners... It's a horrific cycle that we have seen play out many, many times.

But the call of Easter is to break that cycle. And the tool that we must use is love. It is the tool that Jesus gives us. It the only tool that Jesus gives us.

Wednesday, February 18, 2026

Ash Wednesday, February 18, 2026

Holy Cross MonasteryWest Park, NY

Br. Scott Wesley Borden

Ash Wednesday, February 18, 2026


 
Ash Wednesday is the official start of the Season of Lent. So, if you haven’t finished all the chocolate, it's too late. 

Lent and Advent have a similar function in the calendar – they both provide a season of contemplation and reflection leading up to the defining events of Christian life; the birth of Jesus and the death and resurrection of Jesus. 

By tradition, there are two primary intentions for Lent. In the first half, we are called to reflect and repent. In the second, our focus is directed to Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem – to crucifixion... and resurrection.  

It is a somber, penitential season. It goes against our modern culture. Of course, standing apart from culture is just where we should want to be as followers of Jesus. 

I want to start by considering what Saint Benedict says about Lent: 

The life of a monk (and for the purposes of this sermon we are all monks...) ought to be a continuous Lent. Since few, however, have the strength for this, we urge the entire community during these days of Lent to keep its manner of life most pure and to wash away in this holy season the negligence's of other times. This we can do in a fitting manner by refusing to indulge evil habits and by devoting ourselves to prayer with tears, to reading, to compunction of heart and self-denial.  

During these days ... let each one deny himself some food, drink, sleep, needless talking and idle jesting, and look forward to Holy Easter with joy and spiritual longing – Everyone should, however, make known to the abbot what he intends to do, since it ought to be done with the abbot’s prayer and approval. Whatever is undertaken without permission of the spiritual father will be reckoned as presumption and vainglory, not deserving a reward. Therefore, everything must be done with the abbot's approval. 

So, walk with me a bit down memory lane... When I was in 5th grade, nearly 60 years ago, a Roman Catholic classmate of mine announced at about this time of the year that she was giving up coffee for Lent. It was rather ingenious. She was required to report something she was giving up to her priest. And since she did not, in fact, drink coffee, she could meet the requirement with no inconvenience. When you are ten years old, this seems like a pretty good answer... 

She even met the spirit of Benedict's caution. She did not have an Abbot to tell, but she was telling the appropriate spiritual authority – her priest. What I have never known is the outcome – I will forever wonder what the priest may have said to her in response. 

St Benedict and my 5th grade classmate have something to tell us about what we do for Lent – in some way they are telling us the same thing... We have developed, in our tradition, the belief that to be really effective, a spiritual practice must be heroic, perhaps even draconian. 

What my intelligent 5th grade friend was engaging in was a practice of non-heroic, minimal rather than maximal displacement discipline. OK – her particular plan may have been sub-minimal... it asked absolutely nothing of her... but erring on the side of minimal may be of more spiritual benefit than we think. 

Benedict's counsel guides us in the same direction. “Let each deny him or her-self some food, drink, etc.” I'm not in 5th grade and I do drink coffee. If I were to implement my classmate's plan in accordance with the rule of Benedict, I might be looking to give up one cup of coffee a day, or to not drink coffee one day of the week... to give up some, not all. 

Benedict is clear in purpose: We will add something by way of private prayer and take away something from food or drink, so that we will have something additional to offer God.  

A heroic form of fasting too easily becomes a spiritual destination rather than a spiritual tool. If I give up chocolate for Lent, then chocolate, or at least that empty space where chocolate used to be, becomes the focus of my Lenten practice. What strange kind of offering is that? 

I love Benedict's particularly moderate approach. He has a list: food, sleep, needless talking and idle jesting. Only talking and jesting get qualifiers, but you don't need to know a great deal about St Benedict to know that he never encourages anybody to go entirely without food or sleep. We are, after all, Benedictines, not Cistercians... Benedict doesn't need to qualify those because we know the rule still calls us to meals and to bed each day. Needless talk and idle jesting imply that there is still room for purposeful talk and perhaps even some jesting – as long as it's not idle... 

The danger lies in presumption and vainglory. They are spiritually deadly. Presumption puts me before God. A particularly severe observance of Lent encourages me to presume that I have or can achieve something important... something especially pleasing to God. That is vainglory – empty boasting. The Kingdom of God is a Kingdom of justice and love... Heroic deprivation does not contribute to either. 

We need to step into Lent, not leap into it, making little adjustments in order to free ourselves from worldly attachments. Massive dislocations and heroic deprivations just change the nature of our enslavement. We substitute a positive attachment – I need another cup of coffee... for a negative attachment – I will not drink coffee at all under any circumstances... no matter how much I’d love a cup of coffee... We’re just as attached, just to the absence rather than the presence.  

On Ash Wednesday we are reminded that we are dust, and to dust we will return. This is a perspective that allows little space for presumption or vainglory. There is no point in attachment, in storing up the treasures of this earth. There is no value in a big and grand show of piety. We are still dust. 

But let me share another perspective on dust... from Dr Liz Watz, one of the instructors for the Jungian Christian Dialogue that Br Randy and I I are part of: We are what happens when love meets dust. Liz does not specify God’s love, and I don’t think she has to. All love is ultimately God’s love. All things are God’s creation. All things are just dust held together by God’s love. 

As Jesus will remind us on Maundy Thursday, we are to love one another as God loves us. The less preoccupied I am with indulging and comforting myself, the more able I am to love others and to love God. And just to be clear, loving God is loving others.  

Repentance isn’t about feeling bad. It's about giving our selves over to the uninhibited and seemingly reckless love that is God. The more I allow myself to live into God’s love, the more able I am to love God’s children and all of God’s wonderful creation. That is the work of repentance... the work of Lent... the giving up of my carefully guarded and metered love for the unbound generosity of God’s love. 

Do I get there all at once? Do I even get there in the span of my life? Probably not. And that’s OK. Jesus calls us to follow, not to arrive. 

As I do the work of reflection that Lent calls for, it will surely be distressing. I fall short – a lot... I’d love to say that I am a pure and holy monk with never an impure or evil thought, let alone deed. But I’m sure my brothers will disabuse me of any notion that this is true... and when needed, I'll return the favor...

If it starts to feel hopeless – then I will try to remember to remind myself that I’m in a process. I’m following Jesus as best I can. And I can take great comfort in the lives of those early followers – Thomas who was filled with doubt... Peter who denied any knowledge of Jesus at all –three times... Judas who betrayed Jesus... The whole drowsy bunch who couldn’t stay awake with Jesus in Gethsemane. I fit right in. Thankfully Jesus calls us as we are. 

Repentance, the turning of my life to follow Jesus, is work that I can do at each step of the journey. And if I get a step wrong, that’s OK. It's not a failure; it's an opportunity to repent – to turn and change direction. 

Sunday, December 14, 2025

The Third Sunday of Advent, Year A, December 14, 2025

Holy Cross MonasteryWest Park, NY

Br. Scott Wesley Borden

The Third Sunday of Advent, December 14, 2025


 

Here we are in the Third Sunday of Advent. In the great countdown to Christmas, we’re almost there. In some traditions this is known as Gaudete Sunday, Rejoice Sunday, and the candle in the Advent Wreath, traditionally, is pink rather than purple... You’ll notice that none of our candles are purple... let alone pink. The various colors are a modern tradition, and they are hardly set in stone.

But if the colors were part of our wreath, they would have a story to tell. The dark purple (or indigo or blue) would keep us aware that Advent, like Lent, is a penitential season... and the point of Gaudete Sunday was to remind us that it's not all doom and gloom... Emanuel is, after all, about to be with us. When the bridegroom is present you cannot be gloomy...

Some go a step further, supposing that this is the Sunday also known as “stir up” Sunday. But it isn’t and never was. It is true that the collect for today does begin with the call to “Stir up your power O Lord...” And the thought attached to this is that today was the day people preparing a Christmas Pudding had to stir up the batter... Alas, this is not the day for that. The Feast of Christ the King displaced that Sunday – which still exists as a sort of strange, unanchored footnote. Its collect does indeed also begin with stir up... “stir up we beseech thee, O Lord...” the batter for our Christmas pudding...

But the Sunday last before Advent, as it was formally known, has been given over to other purposes. And so steamed Christmas pudding is lost for all time... Here in the US, we’re not so big on steamed English puddings anyway, more is the pity.

It fascinates me that in increasingly secular cultures like Europe, some customs seem to persist. The venerable Advent Calendar is one that surprises me. I grew up with Advent Calendars that featured a daily chocolate treat of very dubious quality enclosed behind colorful paper flaps.

Apparently, chocolate only found its way into Advent Calendars in about 1958 – the same year I found my way into this world... As I was looking for details about the history of the Advent Calendar I found this little note: Today, Advent calendars can be found with a vast range of contents, including toys, makeup, cheese, and other surprises, though the original religious versions are still produced... Thank goodness that something of religious tradition still remains in Advent. Though I suspect for many it's just a misunderstood cultural artifact.

Part of the challenge for us, even for those of us who have the privilege of living in a monastery, is to let the Church Season of Advent keep its voice and not be out sung (or outshouted) by our Capitalist Secular culture that can make anything into a marketing opportunity. For example: for a mere thirty-four dollars you can purchase a Barbie Advent Calendar which includes a Barbie doll and then many days of Barbie accessories... If you want to spend more, how about the Missoma Fine Jewelry Advent Calendar for a mere twenty-two hundred dollars...

The notion of looking forward to the birth of our savior, born in poverty in a stable, with high-end jewelry, or with a collection of top shelf single malt scotches, or with exotic makeup is scandalous or worse.

And this is still Advent... What comes after makes Advent pale. Our Christmas celebrations are often a mockery of the message of Jesus. We’re not called to austerity – when the bridegroom is with us, we are meant to celebrate. But to borrow from our Shaker brothers and sisters; “tis a gift to be simple.” I dare say it’s not a gift on many people’s lists...

But let's come back to the Third Sunday of Advent... and in particular to the Gospel according to Matthew.

Though we are not yet at the arrival of Jesus, this passage from Matthew has us near the end of Jesus’ time on earth, and even nearer the end of John’s time on earth.

John sends out some of his disciples to ask Jesus if he is really the Messiah, or should they keep looking. It seems like John, of all people, should know the answer to his question. This is the same Jesus that caused John to leap in Elizabeth’s womb. This is the same Jesus who John baptized and the heavens thundered. But now, at this late moment, John’s faith is shaky? Or perhaps this question is more for the benefit of others... of us.

John’s disciples dutifully find Jesus and ask him. And Jesus tells them to go and tell John that the deaf hear, the blind see, the lame walk... Jesus is recounting the various prophesies about Messiah, about Jesus. Jesus is reminding John that the promised Messiah is not a great military hero, but rather a healer... a comforter... a lover of souls. Not a mighty warrior...

Sometimes our expectations of what we think is coming cause us to miss what really comes. Perhaps John, like so many of his contemporaries was drifting into the illusion that Jesus was here to destroy the Romans. Our expectations have a unique ability to blind us.

John’s disciples go to tell John, and Jesus turns his attention to everyone else: What are you people looking at? What kind of show did you come for? What are you here to see? Not a weak reed... not an over-hyped, pampered politician... Whether we know it or not, they (and we) have come seeking a prophet.

Our popular culture wants us to believe that prophets are seers of the future... Their primary purpose is to predict the far-off things. What a handy and useful skill that would be... But that is not the purpose of a prophet. Their purpose is to call us back to faithful living in God’s ways.

This is why nobody really likes a prophet... Herod didn’t like John – nor did his wife... So, John’s head was removed from the rest of him. Jesus laments that Jerusalem is the city that murders the prophets. And over the Millenia we haven’t changed on that... Just look at Martin Luther King.

Scripture teaches us that without a prophet the people parish. Yet there is one thing more dangerous than no prophet, and that is a false prophet – these days we have an abundance of those...

Jesus has given us some clues about this prophet business. He tells us that in all of history there has never been a greater prophet than John. John offers no hints about what the future may hold. But he is unrelenting in calling us to a holier way of living – to preparing the way of the Lord.

At this mid-point in Advent, John, in his prophet’s way, is reminding us that we have to keep in mind why it matters that Jesus is born in Bethlehem. All the celebration to come, the beautiful music and sumptuous food... the awesome decorations and the good company, must not obscure the fact that our world, like the world at the time of Jesus, is a sorrowful mess. Cruelty, violence, and grotesque injustice are in abundance. Why do we think it's acceptable for someone to have to choose between their prescription medications and their groceries – in the richest country on earth. Martin Luther King told us that justice is a calculation of God’s love. A lot of our social policies seem to calculate something very different... very ungodly.

Jesus comes into our world not to magically fix things. Jesus comes because we need saving – from ourselves. As Christina Rosetti puts it, love comes down at Christmas. And bit by bit we need to receive that love. As James Huntington tells us, love must act.  So, enjoy good food, sing joyful carols, look at beautiful decorations, take in the love of the season and the love of God. But don’t stop there. Take action to share God’s love with all of God’s creation.


Sunday, October 19, 2025

The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 24 C, October 19, 2025

Holy Cross MonasteryWest Park, NY

Br. Scott Wesley Borden

The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost, October 19, 2025



I was just a bit surprised when I looked at the duty list for today and discovered I was preaching... I could have known long ago, but for some reason I didn’t notice. The first thing I did was look for what I might have said on this Sunday in previous years... Who doesn’t love a rerun or is that “Greatest Hits.” But alas, I have never preached on this particular Sunday. So, I looked at the assigned reading, and my heart sank a little further. This is one of my least favorite Gospel passages – this story of a corrupt magistrate. I thought for a few moments that I would begin by saying I have nothing to say about this Gospel passage and then sitting back down. Perhaps in a few minutes you will wish that I did...

But the more I sat with this Gospel reading, the clearer it became that this is a very relevant passage for our times. It is urgently needed... So here we go.

The author of Luke begins by telling us that this story is about the need to pray always and not to lose heart. But then we’re on to this terrible judge. The judge has no respect for the God or for people. Presumably the judgments of this judge are not particularly just. He seems mostly interested in himself and in his own comfort. Perhaps he is a bit of a narcissist. Why, I wonder, is such a judge tolerated? Why is he able to keep his position? And what has this got to do with the need to pray always... Unless, I suppose, we pray we never come before a judge like this one...

What of the plaintiff – the widow? We know that she has a complaint and that she is being denied satisfaction. She must be quite persistent. Does she spend her days screaming at the judge? She gets his attention somehow... And that pays off in the end. The judge gives her what she wants so that he will not have to put up with her. The judge, of course, couldn't care less about justice. He just wants her to go away. We assume, though the Gospel doesn’t say, that her claim was just. But perhaps she was an early practitioner of “lawfare” - where you use the legal system as weapon; a practice that some of our modern politicians seem to happily embrace...

It's possible that she is no more interested in justice than the magistrate. Clearly Jesus is not trying to get us to think about the goodness or badness of the legal system or of this widow and this judge.

Justice, in our legal system, is often seen as between opposing forces – between winners and losers, good and evil. That is an extremely limited view of justice. But before we even consider who is right and who is wrong, who wins and who loses, we have to consider what form of justice we want.

The two big flavors of justice are punitive and restorative. Punitive justice is first and foremost about punishing the bad person for their bad act. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth is punitive justice in its most basic form. Restorative justice is far more complicated. We have to consider what was done, and what can be done to undo it as best we can. It gets very complicated very quickly because some things can’t be restored. How do you undo a genocide? In restorative justice, this does not let you off the hook. It means you have to be creative in your way of making justice.

The Hebrew Scriptures are full of stories of punitive justice. If somebody was blind or lame, it was assumed that this was punishment for some sin. A woman who was childless had surely earned this punishment through sin. In the New Testament when someone is sick or injured, the question comes up who sinned? And Jesus does not respond to such questions. Jesus is not interested in punitive justice. Jesus nudges us in the direction of restorative justice, of being made whole through the power of love.

Jack Miles, in his book “Christ: A crisis in the life of God” argues that Jesus represents a turning point, a crisis, in God’s relationship with us just as much as Jesus represents a turning point in our relationship with God. The God of Vengeance is replaced by the God of Love. And yet, many still hold on to the God of Vengeance – and by many, I mean most of us some of the time.

If I’m being honest, I have to admit that I would be happy for God to smite my enemies. I’d probably be OK with God smiting your enemies, unless I’m one of them... Then I might have an issue...

There is a very long tradition that teaches us that we should love our friends but hate our enemies. Jesus rejects that tradition. Jesus tells us to love our enemies and to pray for them. Remember the start of the passage from Luke... Jesus tells the disciples about the need to pray always.

At least some of that prayer has to be for folks we don’t like, for folks we don’t respect. I love the example from Fidler on the Roof of Tevya’s prayer for the Tzar: “Dear God, please protect and keep the Tzar – far away from us.” It's OK for prayer to start in that place, but that can’t be the destination.

So, let's go back to our widow who is seeking justice (that's an assumption, but let's assume it). What is justice?

Let's turn to a great profit of the twentieth century – The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Dr King called Justice the calculation of God’s love. This is another way of thinking about restorative justice, and it leaves no space for punitive justice.

What does God’s love look like for an abused child... What does God’s love look like for the children of undocumented immigrants... What does God’s love look like for someone going blind because they can’t afford the medication for their diabetes... If our justice does not look like God’s love, then it's not justice in the Christian sense. We need to recalculate. We need to honor Jesus.

There are a number of commentators on YouTube who are young and very secular. There are also a number who are young and very religious – at least they claim to be. My sample is far from complete or thorough, but all the “secular” folks care deeply about affordable health care, about childhood nutrition, about affordable housing, about quality education in schools where gun violence is not a threat, about protecting the vulnerable, and so on. And secular though they may claim to be, they all seem to adore James Talarico, who is a devout Presbyterian pastor as well as an elected representative in Texas, among other things. The Religious YouTubers seem to be primarily concerned with following a moral code, a holiness code.

I heard Ronald Rolheiser, a Roman Catholic Missionary Religious and Theologian, speaking at a book promotion event – he has published a number of books... He was asked how the church should respond to the threat of secularity. His answer was that secularity is no threat, but rather that secularity is the child of the Church.

He pointed out that if you examine the most secular societies of Western Europe, you will find that the hungry are fed, the sick are provided medical care, all are given access to education. Immigrants are, generally, welcomed. There is surely room for improvement, but the things that Jesus seems most focused on in the Gospels are accounted for. This he argued is because European Secular Societies learned these values from their religious parents.

The threat he felt was not from secular society, but from fundamentalism. Rolheiser noted that we generally fear Islamic Fundamentalism which we often equate with terrorism. To the extent that we know anything about it, we fear Hindu Fundamentalism (and if we knew more, we would fear it more...). We’re still flooded with guilt over the Holocaust, the Shoa, but we’re starting to acknowledge that we fear Jewish Fundamentalism. But Rolheiser believes that we tend to think of Christian Fundamentalism as our crazy uncle: Amusing, embarrassing, but not dangerous. Rolheiser asserts that the different fundamentalist movements have more in common with each other than we care to think. According to Rolheiser, we should be just as afraid of Christian Fundamentalism as we are of Islamic Fundamentalism.

Jesus in the passage we heard from Luke wants us to be in constant prayer – which includes all forms of prayer. That prayer could look like a retreat with a monastic community. That prayer could also look like the No Kings Protests of yesterday. God wants us to pray constantly, not monotonously.

Jesus also does not want us to lose heart. As Martin Luther King said, the arc of history is long, but it tends toward justice. We are about the business of building the Kingdom of God – a long process, extremely long, but it tends toward love... towards justice.

Building God’s Kingdom is not same as finishing God’s Kingdom. Moses did not get to enter the promised land, and we may not see the kingdom we are building be finished. Our joy is in the building, not in moving in.