Easter 5 C - Apr 24, 2016

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Randy Greve, OHC
Easter 5 C - Sunday, April 24, 2016

Acts 11:1-18
Revelation 21:1-6
John 13:31-35

Easter continues and the celebration is well-founded in these Fifty Days.  Resurrection is the impossible and the unthinkable, yet it happened.  Crucified and buried, Christ is raised from the dead.  We live in the crisis and delight of how to respond, how to live in the light of this wonderful, earth-shaking news that we cannot ignore and which changes everything.  After the tomb is empty and Jesus is alive and new life is offered to us, do we dare live, really live?  And if so, how?  What difference does this event make in the ordinariness of my own life?  If he is alive, then the question that must be asked next is "am I alive?"  We are offered a choice – Easter is about this profound choosing - either despair and hopelessness on the one hand – there is no bigger story, life is about me and my pleasure here and now - - or joy and community and generosity beyond our wildest imaginings.  The life and love of Jesus means waking up from what Thomas Merton called “the illusion of separateness” and receiving and celebrating the reality that there is hope because there is no us and them, there is only us.  The invitation of Easter is new life together in and with and for the source and giver of life from whom flows our very breath.  

The lectionary scripture readings for today each give us some insights into resurrection life.  The images are brimming with excitement and possibility, but living out their ethic is neither easy nor comfortable.  Our illusions are deep and instant gratification is easier than the long march of discipleship.  The biblical vision of resurrection life does not promise an easy or painless life, but it does promise that the vision of life offered to all and a new world of justice, love, and peace is breaking in and is moving toward fulfillment.  The biblical picture is of a shocking equality where the outcast and rejected get in alongside those of us who are among the rich and privileged.  The readings from Acts and the Revelation are the accounts of what has come and what is to come as the Lord in the Gospel reading grounds our present and future in the self-giving delight of love.

In the Acts of the Apostles, St. Peter’s cultural customs about clean and unclean food are transcended by a new reality of grace to non-Jews.  "Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life".  His world and identity are turned upside-down, his boundaries and expectations redefined in the shattering light of grace.  The shock is that God has not consulted me first on who is in and who is out!  God is present and at work in people I don't like!  The great equalizer of grace is enough to turn many off of Christianity because it is so much easier to make rules, control access, and evaluate one another’s goodness than to take seriously the statement "Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life" which negates our petty attempts at managing God.  We all have the equivalent to Gentiles in our lives.  A sure way to tell whether we really believe in grace is to reflect on how we treat the outsider and the rejected.

In the Revelation, our future gives us hope to live the risen life today.  The reality that unifies us beneath the externals is that we are mortals; we are all future dead people.  And God is with all of us, we are destined for one city - not the city of the people I like, not a separate city where everyone agrees with me or looks like me - but one city, one people.  This is the vision of love toward which we are moving.  This is where we are going in the glory of the empty tomb.  What does love look like?  It looks like the new Jerusalem where we are gathered together in the presence of Christ for a party that lasts for eternity.  So when we give into temptation and engage in judgments, prejudices, attacks, and insults, we grieve God's heart because that is not where we are going, that is not God's mission or our destiny.  We are designed and destined for something bigger.  God is present and at work in people I don’t like!

The bringing down of barriers and the new Jerusalem are not some pious fantasy for which we passively wait.  God will bring about their fullness in God's own time, but we live as people of hope and promise now, believing that what is coming is already coming among us.

Then in the Gospel of John we have our Lord’s ultimate command – love as he loves!  God in Christ loves us and gives us life.  Resurrection life is summarized in love for one another; the surest proof of the resurrection is that Christians love one another.  If we love one another everyone will know that we are his disciples.  And now, risen, he lives. He lives in us who are his body, the baptized who are animated by his Spirit. In us he has found his place for loving. The love that he commands he also gives.

So because the resurrection happened, love has happened and can happen.  If the tomb is empty, everything is changed and the impossible becomes possible, the unlovable becomes lovable, excuses fall away, creativity blossoms, the world looks at the church and does not say "what a bunch of hypocrites", but "see how they love one another".  

A priest friend of mine has come up with the best definition of hell I have ever heard.  He says hell is what happens when folk get to the pearly gates, look in to see who is there, and say, “Oh, I’m sorry, we’re not in communion with them.”  His definition is perfectly theologically accurate, too, because it images hell as the fundamental “no” to God’s invitation even to people I don’t like.  To say “no” to grace, “no” to the presence of those who are not in my tribe, who do not fit my ideological expectations, is to put myself in the hell of isolation where I in essence am given by God what I most want – to be left alone in my own smug self-righteousness.  Hell is the world in which it is more important to me to be right in my own eyes than to be surprised by the expansiveness of God’s grace.  If heaven, the kingdom, the promised fulfillment of Christ with us and the final overcoming of sin and death, is the gift and the shock of being in communion with “the other”, then why not see the world that way now, why not live as if what God has promised is true now?

Over the next six months or so our cultural fetish on conflict and controversy will get kicked into overdrive as we move toward the election in November.  The question is which vision will we believe?  That I have worth and value when my side conquers the other, that victory is vindication of my rightness and of the other’s wrongness?  Or the vision of Easter which confronts us and invites us today – that God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life and that we are headed toward a new Jerusalem, a new community of justice and peace bigger than nationality, party, or election that calls for our participation and preparation here and now today in efforts of reconciliation, respect, and understanding?  This life does not mean that I abandon my convictions on issues or compromise my conscience in order to be liked.  It means that within our individual backgrounds and personalities and passions and gifts we can travel together in humility and respect toward the same fulfillment.  

Forgiveness and healing will be our call and a great need until our Lord returns in our church, our culture and our politics, but we must be attentive to what that looks like for us today.  Let us commit ourselves to being the best signs of what it means to respect the dignity of every human being.  "Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life".  God is present and active in people I don’t like.  What can they teach me about the journey to the kingdom?  What do I offer to them to enlarge their vision of the wonder of grace?  In the light of the impossible and unthinkable, Christ raised from the dead, what new thoughts and possibilities – what new life - is God offering us in our communities and families?  Are we open and willing and ready to listen and respond?  Amen.

Easter 3 C - Apr 10, 2016

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Robert James Magliula, OHC
Easter 3 C - Sunday, April 10, 2016

Acts 9:1-6, (7-20)
Revelation 5:11-14
John 21:1-19

The miraculous fishing - Duccio di Buoninsegna 1308-1311
Museo dell'Opera del Duomo, Florence, Italy

The portion of John’s Gospel we just heard records Jesus’ third post- Resurrection appearance. The disciples have returned to their Galilean home and work. It’s Peter who announces this return to business as usual. After a long night of fishing and catching nothing, a stranger calls to them from the shore. As with other accounts of the risen Lord, he isn’t recognized immediately. After inquiring about their catch, he tells them to lower their nets to the right side of the boat. Having nothing to loose they do it. The net fills at once and becomes too heavy for them to haul aboard.

It’s in that moment of abundance that the beloved disciple recognizes Jesus. Peter, still naked from fishing, puts on his clothes and swims ashore. An impetuous and dramatic gesture which, unfortunately, leaves the others to struggle with the enormous catch. When they finally arrive on shore, they find a fire burning with fish and bread baking. Jesus then invites them to add some of their catch to the meal. The story concludes with a shared meal and a commission.

The roller-coaster ride of the disciples through the last week of Jesus’ life was filled with emotional highs and lows, culminating in the news of the empty tomb and the appearances that had to be seen to be believed. Experiences of emotional overload overwhelm the human spirit. At such times we often seek comfort, almost mindlessly, in familiar activities. We can fill in the blanks for ourselves. We all know those activities and things that we are drawn to for comfort. Peter’s announcement about going fishing can sound quaint and quirky, but the return to his former life and trade is not so surprising.

What is surprising is the point made that there is no escape. Wherever they go, the Risen Lord will be with them. The ordinary and routine will no longer be ordinary. Jesus is there waiting to serve and nourish them. This story is how the first Christian community recognized how God made provision for them in Christ. Throughout the centuries it has served to invite believers to that same realization. Through Jesus we are shown that God’s bounty takes in what we ourselves are and have. We too are invited to engage the rich truths of this encounter.

There are times in our lives when it is hard to recognize Christ. Situations and circumstances can overtake and overpower us. Senseless violence and injustice can shake our belief to the core. Great disappointments can rattle the foundations of our trust. At such times blindness rather than sight seems to be the norm in our lives. It is in that darkness that the Risen Lord claims us, not with cheap and easy answers, not with sentimental or magical solutions, but with the power of one who knows us and loves us as we truly are. In this encounter, there was no trumpet, no fanfare. He sees them, their condition, their situation, and in the act of being seen, the beloved disciple recognizes the Lord. Never underestimate the power and effect of being seen and accepted for who we are.

The lectionary today couples this text with the story of Saul’s conversion. Like Saul, we can be so sure of our mission, purpose, and ourselves one minute. The next minute, in a flash, we are thrown. The false self is shattered, clarity of sight and purpose are gone. All our plans and schemes vanish in the dust. We are left with our confusion, our blindness, and our loss. Conversion begins with restlessness in the heart. Often our disenchantment comes not from failure but from success. It is success that disappoints us because we had so expected it to be the high point of our life. We get what we want and we find it lacking. 

Saul was at the peak of his power. Yet, the story isn’t so much about Saul as it is about the way God works to change lives. That includes Ananias. In our need to control it’s easy to identify with Ananias. He felt the need, as we so often do, to run a competency test on God. “You must be kidding. This guy is out to get us! Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Are you sure you want me to do this?” Experience teaches us to be cautious about people’s ability to change. The story is a helpful reminder that conversion is not primarily about us but about God. Our task is to remain open to what God is doing in and around us, even when it makes us uneasy. A consistent theme in Scripture is that when God is the agent of change, all things are possible 

Whether with the disciples or Saul, these resurrection stories have power to transform us only if we encounter them in terms of our own lives. Christ is risen now. He touches our lives today. We are his; he feeds us as often as we choose to receive that gift in the Eucharist. He strengthens, heals, and sends us out to accomplish his purpose, whether we comprehend it or approve of it. Let this Easter season not be a time of celebrating the encounters of others with Christ, but a time for each of us to strive to meet Christ in the ordinary, to meet him in the unexpected, and even in the darkness. 

Of course, we have to have eyes to see. Only the beloved disciple recognized Jesus. It is the one who rested on Jesus’ heart. The relationship between resting in Jesus, being the beloved, immersing us in his presence, is key to recognizing him. Our most impetuous inclinations, keeping busy or seeking comfort, in whatever form, keeps us blinded to his presence in our lives and in the faces of those around us. There is a beloved disciple and an impetuous Peter in each of us. Resting in Jesus’ heart sharpens our spiritual vision and helps us recognize his nurturing presence in all circumstances. Having thus been fed, tending and feeding his sheep is a tangible way of staying in relationship with him, as well as expressing our love for him. Our religious experience is not a private affair. Whatever shape or form it takes, it is for the building of the kingdom

This story is a sort of epilogue tacked on to the end of John’s Gospel. It’s a dramatic appeal to us not to consign Christ to the past. This epilogue awakens memories of the darkness of our hunger, our flight from our true self, our failure and denial to recognize Christ in ourselves and others, but at the same time reminds us that none of this darkness has overcome the light. John’s epilogue affirms what his Prologue affirms. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (1:5) The Risen Christ still sees, still calls, still feeds, still empowers all of us, doubters and deniers. The real-life drama of Christ continues into the present moment and beyond.  +Amen.

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Easter Vigil - Mar 27, 2016

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Joseph Wallace-Williams, n/OHC
Easter Vigil - Sunday, March 27, 2016

Romans 6:3-11 
Luke 24:1-12

"Christ is Risen... Wounds and all!

Br. Joseph Wallace-Williams preaching at the Easter Vigil.

Wounds!

I got wounds.

You got wounds.

All God’s children got wounds

When we get to heaven

We gonna shout all over God’s heaven!

Amen?

When I was younger we used to sing:

When I think of the goodness of Jesus

And all He's done for me

My soul cries out hallelujah

Thank God for saving me

The premise of the song is that if you think you will thank. So then the key to the thanking is the thinking. If you’re thinking is off then your thanking is off.

John Milton writes: The mind is its own place! And in itself it can make a heaven out of hell or make hell out of heaven. Jesus in his Resurrection shows us a different way. A different way to carry our wounds. A different way to think about the wounds we encounter in life. Those thorns in the flesh that are caused by: illness or accident. Wounds inflicted by traumatic experiences.

Our wounds may be visible to those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. They may be invisible because we carry them as scars upon our: hearts, our minds, and our psyches. My suffering may not look like your suffering and her suffering might not look like his suffering, but at the fundamental, foundational level of our emotions and nerves the journey of life will lead each of us into the rawness of suffering – a place of:

Deep hurt, a grief that we just can’t seem to shake, pain that just won’t heal, rejection that we just can’t seem to get over, trauma that we dare not speak.

So you see, depending on the way we were raised and our individual personality types we all carry our wounds differently. Some of us suffer in silence: We camouflage our wounds and no one around us knows that we are bleeding slowly to death. There are those of us who bleed all over the place: Exposing our wounds, risking infection not as a badge of courage but to gain attention and sympathy by getting other personalities to commiserate with us!  Because misery loves company!

Then there are the walking wounded: Injured enough to be impaired but not enough to take us out of the game. There are the waiting wounded: Injured and caught in a chronological time warp waiting for the reversal of the condition. There are the weary and wounded: injured, tired, drained of spiritual resources; drained of enough sanity that when we actually do go to sleep we can’t get any rest. Too tired to get up and too wired to stay down. Then there are the wasted and wounded: those who have resigned to being wounded thinking that it is permanent. Thinking that it will happen again. Thinking that it is some sort of predestined punishment and so we waste away because of the wounding.

Beloved, our wounds can fester, and metastasize, and become a kind of sunglasses which we wear that colors with gloom our eyes so that when something good actually happens to us our wounds darken our vision, darken our response that naturally occurs from receiving every good and perfect gift offered day in and day out by God.  So instead of seeing the blessing we see only the wounds.

This is when our wounds get in the way. Our wounds trick us into thinking that we are somehow stuck in a scarred and marked life.

I would imagine that only a few of you have seen the movie Medea’s family reunion.

There is a wonderful song in the movie that goes like this:

As time passes by they begin to multiply

*There are wounds in the way.

Adding up secretly like the rings of an old oak tree.

*There are wounds in the way.

 Some old and some new,

all stifling, debilitating and cruel.

*There are wounds in the way.

Some are passed down from elder to youth

they don’t even belong to you

*There are wounds in the way.

As time passes through,

they begin to accrue a strange sort of value

Some that you think are worth holding on to

*There are wounds in the way

We all have wounds that are getting in the way of our living every day. Jesus unlike many of us who are far too willing to: clothed our wounds, perfume our wounds, slap a smile on our wounds and pretend our wounds don’t exist.

Jesus in the resurrection shows his wounds to his friend’s. Yes, to a group locked behind closed doors. To a group locked in by fear because the wounded tend to hide themselves or strikeout and hurt somebody like they were hurt. Yet even though they were locked in by fear and the past Jesus showed up anyway. Even though they were locked in, they could not lock out Jesus. Jesus shows up anyway and shows his wounds.

This Lent I decided to spend some time wondering why Jesus showed his wounds.

Some scholars say that Jesus showed his disciples his wounds as a way of proving his authenticity. The wounds prove that he was who he said he was. That he was the real Christ and not an impostor.

The wounds were the evidence. The telltale signs of the: real bodily, visceral, flesh and bone, body resurrection; and not just a symbolic one. The wounds were validation of his life and his teaching. You see Jesus was: not just some good guy.

Not just a good teacher. Not just a good moral compass.

This Jesus! This man who stood before them was and is really the Son of God.

Who said that he would suffer. Who said he was going to die. Who said that he would rise on the third day and he did! And so Jesus shows up and shows his wounds; his wounds which were a result of somebody else’s sins and not his.

Now ain’t that something, you were wounded not for what you did but for what somebody else did! Chew on that.

Flora Slosson Wuellner says that the wounds were the Lord’s acts of mercy and kindness.    You see, the resurrection did not blot out his wounds. The resurrection did not reverse his wounds. Jesus rose from the dead in spite of his wounding.  Jesus rose from the dead with his bruises, with his scars.

The scars themselves were a sign of healing from the wounds that had formed where his skin was ripped off from carrying his cross. The wounds were a sign of healing from the lacerations inflicted by the whip. The wounds were a sign of healing from the penetrating wound inflicted by the spear in his side. Clots had formed over the bleeding holes in his hand’s and feet. The clots indicated healing. Like the stretch marks on a woman’s body that shows that at one time new life had stretched the skin to the breaking point.

It is healed now but the scar still remains.

Jesus showed his wounds because they identify him with the human condition. That God fully entered into our daily life through his son. That God entered into the daily injustice of our world. That God passionately carries our wounds in His body, and he longs for our healing!

Beloved in the suffering of Jesus we can find all of our suffering: All of our pain is projected onto those nails. All of our brokenness is bundled into that crown of thorns.

Our tears are his tears. Our hurt is his hurt. All of our darkness is found in the darkness of Calvary where Our Lord cried out in painful agony and in that lonely tomb.

The wounds are a reminder to us that God will: never negate, never ignore,

never over intellectualize, never minimize the human condition, and that God will never be beyond our reach or our cry.

Yes, God suffered for us, and God suffers with us now! Jesus rose from the dead in spite of his wounds. The wounds of his descent did not prevent his assent. The wounds of his humiliation did not prevent his elevation.

You and I may be wounded but we are still in the hand of God. We may be weary but we are still in the hand of God. We may be wavering or worn out but we are still in the hand of God. We may have old wounds. We may have new ones. We may have opened ones or closed ones. Yet God still holds us in his hand. Our help is in the name of the Lord. God is for us; our wounds cannot abort the will of God.The wounds of his demise did not prevent his comeback! Which brings me back to where I started:

When I think of the goodness of Jesus

And all He's done for me

My soul cries out hallelujah

Thank God for saving me

Beloved, the resurrection of Jesus Christ is an invitation from God. It is a call to us that it is time to rise above our wounds. Alleluia Christ is risen! And so will you TOO Alleluia!!!!!