RCL - Feast of the Epiphany - 06 Jan 2009

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Bernard Jean Delcourt, OHC
RCL – Epiphany B – Tuesday 06 January 2009

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


Lord Jesus, help us to know of your ever-guiding presence in this year that begins. May we draw strength and wisdom from your ministry to us. May we selflessly and willingly serve the common good. Your Kingdom is close at hand. Let us be instruments of its revelation.

Amen.

*****

In Advent, we remembered and we paid attention to our longing for the Love of God and our yearning for God’s Kingdom.

In Christmastide, we rejoiced in the knowledge that the Kingdom of God is at hand; we gave thanks for God made manifest in the person of Jesus; we sang our hope that God will be made manifest once again, for all and for ever, at a time of God’s choosing.

In-between those two mileposts of salvation history, we live in Epiphany. Two millennia ago, in Israel, God became incarnate in the person of Jesus and loved us to death. At a future time known of God only, God will be manifest to all, everywhere, and forever. The Love of God will be our permanent address. The Kingdom will be complete and irrefutable.

We live in Epiphany, the revelation of Emmanuel, of God amongst us. Hopefully, we know that our God is here now; in the grandiose and in the mundane, when we believe it and when we don’t’, when we see it and when we don’t, when we pray passionately or when we remain listless in the Presence.

*****

The Feast of the Epiphany tells a story of how God is made manifest to all. I like to think there are two Epiphany stories; that of Luke, with the lowly shepherds, the farm animals and the heavenly host witnessing what is occurring; and that of Matthew, with the wise foreigners recognizing what is occurring in the world.

Both stories tell of a truth that became known and irrefutably present to the Jesus movement after his resurrection. That truth was, and is, that Jesus offers a new covenant with God to people of all walks of life, of all nations and at all times.

Matthew chose to illustrate that truth by the pilgrimage of wise men from the East to Jesus’ birthplace. In my understanding, Matthew’s story is already a legendary treatment of Jesus’ arrival in the world. Luke has another.

A legend, I remind ourselves, is a story handed down from the past and believed true although not verifiable. In another meaning of the word, “legend” is an explanatory list of the symbols on a map or chart.

Both Matthew and Luke tell a story many of us believe is true in the sense that it unveils a truth beyond observable reality. Both stories offer us a series of symbols to read the map of the life of Jesus, son of God.

One such symbol in both stories is the universality of Jesus’ relevance. Jesus came for all, Jews and Gentiles, Heaven and Earth, Rich and Poor, Meek and Famous. In Jesus, there is no in-crowd, there are no outsiders.

*****

It is Matthew’s legend however that most did catch imaginations through the centuries and on which layers upon layers of added details were lavished. Those added details usually tell us more about those, who like ourselves today, tried to make sense of the story and who made it make sense in accord with their understanding of the world.

As any good legendary treatment of a truth, Matthew’s story draws from reality, mixes it up with symbols and expands it to make the true deep meaning of the story more obvious. Let us explore a few examples of that together.

*****

Herod was a paranoid angry old man. His legitimacy as a Jewish leader was always in question despite his lavish re-building of the Temple at Jerusalem. He was always concerned that someone was after his throne. This led him to assassinate a wife of his, her mother, and no less than three of his own sons. Some accounts have him committing these crimes with his own hands. He also planned a failed mass murder of elites to be executed at his own death.

So it is in character that Herod would inquire about rumors of a legitimate King of the Jews being born somewhere. And that, in doubt, he would prefer to wipe out a generation of babies in the village of Bethlehem, in order to ensure the disappearance of a challenger.

A point that the story makes here is the duplicity and lack of legitimacy of Israel’s officialdom.

*****

On another note, Hebrew scripture is used to project kingship on the wise men. And the three gifts mentioned in the story lead some to deduce the visit of three wise men, or kings (one per gift).

Is it possible to imagine a caravan of dozens of wise men, and maybe a few female soothsayers, descending on Bethlehem with more presents than can be enumerated? Matthew does not number or name the wise men. He seems to indicate that they all come from the same country.

Anyway, since childhood, I have often wondered why not a single of men, considered wise, thought of offering the young parents warm blankets, changes of swaddling clothes or a hot coals space heater. This might be the strongest indication there were no women in the lot… As a Belgian Walloon poet and humorist said in one of his sketches, the Holy Mother must have thought to herself the wise men hadn’t browsed the shops very long to come up with gifts like those…

*****

So the three gifts mentioned are part of the legendary treatment of truth: gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Again, earlier Hebrew scripture refers to gold and frankincense, celebratory gifts, worthy gifts for a temple of worship. Myrrh is Matthew’s addition. These three gifts, in addition to leading to the idea of three wise men, also gave rise to various allegorical interpretations (kingship, priesthood, death). These presents then, are also an explanatory list of the symbols on the map or chart of Jesus’ destiny.

Sr. Joan Chittister, OSB, in a recent interview with Krista Tippett (of NPR fame), offered the fruit of her own lectio on these symbols. She researched what these three substances were used for and represented in Middle Eastern life then and now. I love her idea of gifts of character being represented by: gold for generosity, frankincense for serenity, and myrrh for healing, as in renewal of spirit.

*****

Medieval European interpretation further characterized the three kings by giving them names, ages, origins and assigning them a gift each. This way, they neatly represent the three ages of man and the three parts of the world then known to humankind (Asia, Europe and Africa).

Their initials CMB for Caspar, Melchior and Balthazar even become the basis of a house blessing at the beginning of a new year: “Christus Mansionem Benedicat” – “may Christ bless this house”. The letters are written on the lintels of doors in between two numbers for the century and two numbers for the year.

I indulged myself in taking a piece of chalk to the lintels of the door into our enclosure from our parking lot and the door to my own cell (20 C+M+B 09).

The Epiphany viewed as a party of Kings (including the baby King of Kings)
Attribution unknown - can you help?

*****

When tradition and legend snowball in such a wealth of meaning and practice, you know some deep truth is tugging at the human heart through it all. And my exploration today only covers a few ideas that come with Epiphany. The Epiphany narratives may not be historically verifiable. But they point to an all-pervasive presence of the godly in our experience and they point us in the direction of Jesus.

That’s more than enough to make Matthew’s treatment of the Epiphany worthy of study and prayer. God is amongst us, all of us; the Kingdom of God is close at hand; now let us take that light into the world in our actions and words.

*****

Let us pray.

Lord, we thank you for Matthew’s account of your coming into the world as one of us. We thank you for the veracity of the Gospels in their variety of vision on the true nature of your incarnate presence among us. Help us not only to listen with the ear of our heart, as our Father Benedict guides us to do, but also to look with the eye of our soul when we search for your face in our everyday life. May we live in Epiphany every day until the day the veil is rent for good and we behold You in all your glory.

Amen.

RCL - Christmas 1 B - Sun 28 Dec 2008

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Scott Wesley Borden, OHC
RCL - Christmas 1 - Sunday 28 December 2008

Isaiah 61:10-62:3
Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7
John 1:1-18


If you listen to ads for companies like Kodak and Hallmark, they will tell you that Christmas is a time for making memories... Of course what they really mean is that Christmas is a time for buying lots of their stuff to mark and store those memories.

Christmas is certainly a time for memories, of remembering - but that remembering is not limited to the sentimentality of cards and photos.

We remember friends and loved ones with gifts, we remember the poor and needy with love and charity, we remember joyful times past and painful times past. Most of all we remember the coming of Jesus - God among us - the Word in human flesh living among us.

I’m not quite enough of a Scrooge to say X-Boxes and greetings cards have no place in Christmas. But I do believe that a pile of stuff stuffed under a tree distorts our idea of what it means to give just as Kodak Moments distort what it means to remember.

We’ve developed a rather literal and linear concept of remembering. Perfect memory gets all the details in all the right spots with all the right implications. Fond memories - well for those we know we’re making little adjustments to reality... softening up the hard edges - but that’s OK... its still linear and literal.

Our literal, linear approach to memory isn’t the only way of remembering. Its certainly not the ancient way of remembering.

Remembering, in some sense, is the opposite of dismembering. It’s the putting together of things, people, times, events... Dismembering is destructive; Remembering is constructive, even creative.

Our modern literal and linear approach to remembering greatly inhibits the constructive and creative possibilities. A literal and linear approach to remembering is no more helpful or healthy than a literal and linear approach to scripture.

The Celtic peoples had a wonderfully rich way of remembering that involved creativity and artistry. The Celts, for example, remember dialogues between people like St Patrick and Jesus. Its almost laughable from a literal-linear perspective. Patrick and Jesus lived centuries apart and in very different parts of the globe. But surely Patrick was, in some sense, in dialogue with Jesus. So why not remember it?

The Gospels give us a bit of a push not to be too literal and linear in our remembering of the birth of Jesus. Matthew and Luke both tell the story - except they don’t tell the same story. In Matthew, Jesus is born at home. There is an astrological event - a star. And the mysterious Magi who come from a distant land bringing exotic gifts. In Luke Jesus is born on the road, as it were. Mary and Joseph are traveling. We have a stable and a manger and shepherds. Its quite common to have shepherds and kings gather around the manger. Our kings are making their way to the creche even at this moment. But in the literal, linear world, those Kings will never arrive that creche. The shepherds and wise men will never meet - any more than St Patrick and Jesus meet...

I think the Gospelers are giving us permission to remember the story as we need to, not to try to reconstruct it as ancient history.

Now, more than at any other time of year, we remember that Jesus, the Word of God, takes on human flesh and dwells with us. Its not a long past, locked-in-time, linear memory. Our encounter with God in human flesh is a real re-membering; a living relationship. And as we all know, relationships take work.

The sweet simplicity of Greeting Card spirituality and Kodak Moment memories will not support a rich and deep relationship - not with our loved ones, and certainly not with Emmanuel - God with us.

The Gospels are revolutionary - and remembering them sentimentally takes the revolution right out. Matthew and Luke begin their revolutionary talk at the moment of Jesus’ birth. We remember shepherds and wise men...

We need to remember that this little child at the center of it all could claim the same divine birthright as the emperor. This little child with no money and no power, exceeds the mightiest ruler of the most powerful empire on Earth. Remembering that faithfully and actively will inevitably put us in conflict with the social, industrial, political, and economic empires of our day.

But today we’re remembering John. John begins his revolution a little differently. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God...” well that leaves me scratching my head a bit, but it doesn’t seem too revolutionary.

“He was in the world... yet the world knew him not.” Nothing revolutionary there - just a sad fact that is arguably as true now as it was 2000 years ago.

“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us... The law was given through Moses, grace and truth came through Jesus.” Well there is a revolution... a revolution of grace and truth rather than a revolution of power and might.

How do we remember this revolution - how do we put it together in our lives and our time?

That is the question at the center of being a follower of Jesus. How do we live out the Gospel? How do we honor our baptismal covenant? If we are looking for simple, easy to follow, step by step instructions, we better find another Gospel... and a different God.

A revolution of grace and truth... I find that I can’t remember grace without also remembering forgiveness. By God’s grace I am saved and by that grace I am led to God’s kingdom - not in some future way, but in a re-membering way. God’s grace re-members my life here and now. God’s grace teaches my heart to sing and releases me from fear, and allows me to see things I would otherwise be blind to, to borrow from a well loved hymn.

And I find that I can’t remember truth without remembering justice - because truth requires justice, while injustice requires lies. Just take a little time today to think about a few of the lies we tell in order to rationalize injustice.

The world in which God took on human flesh was a troubled world, a violent world. Jesus calls us to follow - that sounds nice until we remember that Jesus was executed by the state. Remembering the birth of Christ is a revolutionary and dangerous act.

We still live in a troubled world, a world filled with darkness, violence, deceit, and despair, but a Christmas built around remembering suffering and heartbreak is not going to be popular. “O Come All ye faithful. Suffer with the suffering. Bleed with the wounded. Cry with the brokenhearted”

A Christmas built around misery and strife is not true to the Gospel - the good news.

Jesus doesn’t call us to suffer. Jesus calls us to heal suffering. Jesus doesn’t call us to be afflicted. Jesus calls us to heal the afflicted; to protect the week; to visit the sick and the imprisoned. That is what Christmas is - the re-membering of our selves as the Body of Christ. The re-membering of this world with the grace and truth that come from our relationship with Jesus, the living God.

RCL - Christmas Eve - Wed 24 Dec 2008

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Adam McCoy, OHCRCL - Christmas Midnight Mass - Wed 24 December, 2008


Isaiah 9:2-7
Titus 2:11-14
Luke 2:1-14
"Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace among those whom he favors!"

This is the first Christmas since 1992 that I have not overseen a Christmas pageant as a parish priest. The young participants in Christmas pageants always range from the enthusiastic, who want their parts, who look forward to them, who learn their lines and where to stand and what to do, to those who are basically conscripted, by domestic forces one does not oneself wish to witness, and whose dramatic presence is no less interesting to the observer for being coerced. There is nothing quite as wonderful as watching a sullen nine year old shepherd torn between the desire to look as bored as possible or actually break loose and shock, and the desire to reach home in one piece. Bless them all.

But since this is my first all-adult Christmas in 17 years, please indulge me a bit. I love retelling the story of the manger and the shepherds and the angels and the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes – so much nicer-sounding than bands of20cloth! But tonight I want to tell a story about another first Christmas – the first time Luke’s story was told openly, when it was first published, so to speak. Because that proclamation was a ticking time bomb to the ancient world. Luke’s Gospel is the promise of the real hope of glory and peace. Luke’s Gospel is about power, about ultimacy: what is real, what matters, what the world is about and what the world is for. It is about and for the love of God. It is not about and for politicians, governments, empires, and what the world calls great.

Luke’s gospel was probably published sometime in the mid-70s to the late 80's of the first century of the common era, for a Christian public who would appreciate his mastery of the Greek language. They seem to have been fairly sophisticated people, who knew pretty much what was what. This Gospel was a public proclamation of a new Glory and a new Peace, to proceed from the real ruler of the world, the real Son of the Divine, who was not in any respect like the power that ruled the political world. It is a sophisticated theology of God’s power in an imperial world. It is also a great work of art, clothing a profoundly transforming message in an unforgettable story that everyone who hears it immediately understands at its deepest level.

The Christian gospel was a new gospel, because there was another, secular=2 0and official gospel promulgated by the Roman government. That gospel proclaimed that the Divine Order had bestowed its favor on the imperial regime, which had brought peace and stability and prosperity to the parts of the world fortunate enough to be under its control. And the proper response to that favor was to praise and give glory to the emperor and all he stood for.

Luke starts his story of Jesus’ birth by placing it firmly in the imperial realm. With a reference to the rule of Caesar Augustus, and a display of dignitaries and titles that establish a governmental aura to the story, he makes the connection to the world of imperial authority clear. With the mention of Augustus, the first emperor, most hearers of that era would bring to mind the name of the present emperor, and then perhaps reflect on the ups and downs of imperial rule since its establishment a century or more before. They might reflect that the glory of the imperial state was a peace bought at a staggeringly high price by brutality and cunning in equal parts by Augustus and maintained by his successors, the decent emperors, Tiberius (mostly) and Claudius, and the mad emperors, Caligula and Nero. Their dynasty collapsed amid the confusion of the years 68-69, when four emperors reigned after Nero was driven from Rome.

The current ruling family of the 70's and 80's and 90's, contemporary with Luke’s Gospel, was a family whose name w as Flavius. The Flavians were brought to the throne by their successful prosecution of the war against the Jews. Their victory in Judea was the single most traumatic event in Jewish history until the Holocaust: The conquest of Jerusalem and the capture and destruction of the Temple ended forever the immemorial sacrificial worship offered by Israel to God. The Flavian steps to the throne were through pools of Jewish blood. The imperial regime of Vespasian and his sons had devastated both ancient Judaism and incipient Christianity.

There were three of these Flavian emperors. Vespasian was by all accounts a great general, a competent emperor, and a good old boy from the country with a mind like a steel trap, like so many successful despots. He was succeeded by his two sons, Titus, whom many thought gracious and who died too soon, and the paranoid Domitian, whose madness and cruelty the historian Suetonius tells us was such that “At the beginning of his reign, he used to retire into a secret place for one hour every day, and there do nothing else but catch flies, and stick them through the body with a sharp pin.” Before long it would not just be flies. He covered the walls and floors of his palace with marble polished like mirrors so he could see if someone was trying to kill him. He liked to start his letters with the salutation, “Our lord and god commands so and so.”

If y ou ever saw the emperor, you would shout Doxa! Glory! You would publicly praise the peace that his family had brought, even if that peace was bought at the price of the disappearance of your nation, your family, and your hopes. But not everyone was convinced. I can just hear the desolated Jews and Christians, still mourning the loss of the Temple, muttering to themselves when out of earshot, as yet another imperial rescript is read, the first century equivalent of “Some lord. Some god.”

But Luke’s account of power is entirely different. The angel’s proclamation is Glory and Peace. Not glory to emperors, but to the one who makes, and unmakes, emperors. And the angel makes this announcement not to the rich and powerful who are called to witness the imperial presence, but to shepherds, the lowest class of workers, those who really can’t find much else to do but look after the animals.

Mark’s Gospel uses the word for peace, eirene, only once. Matthew uses it four times. But Luke uses it fourteen times. Peace is a major theme for Luke. The birth of Jesus is the beginning of the restoration of peace, of shalom, not just to Israel, but, in the unfathomable generosity of God, to the whole world, including the Romans and their unspeakable emperors.

Luke’s gospel is a refutation of the theology of the world=2 0of imperial power. The babe whom Mary has brought forth is obscure, by the usual standards illegitimate, poor if not destitute, humble. How many like him have been born, lived and died, only to be forgotten, even after a generation or two by their own families. He is Everychild.

But it is this seemingly ordinary child who is to be the one who bears the real glory. It is from this obscure and humble baby that the real peace is to proceed. It is he, not an emperor or even a family of emperors, who will really transform the world. His peace will come not at the price of tens and hundreds of thousands of deaths and who knows how much desecration and treachery, but at the cost of his own life alone, into whose hands in an hour one morning the imperial regime will pound nails and whose side it will pierce with a lance. His life is the gift freely offered for real peace.

This is real glory. This is real peace. Not the propaganda of a political regime dabbling in its own divinization, but the real thing.

Luke offered then and he offers us now the real hope of Christmas. I think those who heard Luke’s Christmas story for the first time would have opened their eyes in joy. I think they would have understood Mary’s prophetic role. I think they would have understood Joseph’s heroic and necessary nurture of this new and fragile li fe, even at the risk of his own honor as a husband and as a man. I think they would have understood why God chose the outcasts of the working world to be the human audience for the great inbreaking event of the transformation of the world. I think they would have understood why it was in a stable and not in a palace, why it happened on the road to people trying honestly to obey some incomprehensible bureaucratic regulation, as all ordinary people have to do. Most of all I think they would have understood who this story was aimed at, and why.

How wonderful that God, who made the world from nothing, can bring to nothing the pretensions of an empire. How wonderful that this baby, who seems at first to be nothing, can be the beginning of the real Peace, the real Glory.