Sunday, August 5, 2007

BCP - Proper 13 C - 05 Aug 2007

Mount Calvary Monastery, Santa Barbara, CA
Br. Roy Parker, OHC
BCP – Proper 13 C – Sunday, August 05, 2007

Ecclesiastes 1:12-14;2(1-7,11),18-23
Luke 12:13-21


Jesus does not say that it’s wrong to have ‘stuff’; he’s saying that it’s a wasted enterprise, a fool’s game, to acquire stuff and to desire things without a corresponding, overruling desire for God, the point made more obliquely by the first reading with its world-weary statement of the pointlessness of human enterprise viewed at the end of life.

The movie “Citizen Kane” makes the point in using the narrative of Ecclesiastes to describe the building of Hearst Castle: “I made great works; I built houses and planted vineyards for myself; I made myself gardens and parks, and planted in them all kinds of fruit trees . . . I also gathered for myself silver and gold and the treasure of kings and of the provinces . . . I kept my heart from no pleasure, for my heart found pleasure in all my toil, and this was my reward for all my toil.


The movie ends, of course, in poignant recognition that the only thing Citizen Kane ultimately longs for is the enchantment of a distant time, his innocence in childhood which connected him to the wonder and possibility eventually obscured by the hubris and life style engendered by wealth. The wonder and possibility of childhood innocence echoes the state of richness toward God emphasized by Jesus. Enchantment is a distant time.

The point of Jesus’ teaching is also conveyed in the collect for St. Francis Day: “Most high, omnipotent, good Lord, grant your people grace to renounce gladly the vanities of this world; that, following the way of blessed Francis, we may for love of you delight in your whole creation with perfectness of joy.” We pray for the grace to entirely renounce the vanities of this world and yet to delight in the whole creation, including the artifacts which human hands have made by the grace of God. Renunciation and delight in the same breath; how do we manage this?

The key to this puzzle is, for me, imaged by Alan Whittemore, one of our extraordinary forebears in the Order of the Holy Cross, who gave this picture in a retreat address to the community at West Park generations ago. Fr. Whittemore was illustrating how the active and contemplative life can coexist in a person by the metaphor of the circus act of a performer riding around the ring under the big top, standing astride two horses, one representing the active life, the other the contemplative life. The rider can maintain a balanced position on those horses and perform successfully, he emphasized, so long as the animals are galloping . . . galloping. He would add, from his experience as a rancher and handler of large beasts, that this circus act is also possible only because those horses know the rider and sense the rider’s affection for them.

That is, the successful living of the mixed life, as it was called, is possible only when both aspects are lived simultaneously at full tilt and with deep devotion. It, of course, echoes the reliable biblical wisdom: Whatsoever you do in word or deed, do it wholeheartedly as unto the Lord and not unto men.

Renunciation and delight co-existing, co-operating, active and contemplative co-existing, co-operating . . . how can these things be?

To slightly expand Alan Whittemore’s metaphor: Contemplative Horse is also Alpha Horse because groomed and fed at the time of morning before the heat of the day melts the manna which God provides for sustenance only then and at no other time. I put this in another way when trying to explain the Great Silence to weekend guests by quoting Rumi’s poem: “Today like every other day we wake up empty and scared. Don’t open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down the dulcimer. Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.” The Great Silence at home or abroad is your opportunity and invitation to take down the dulcimer and nourish the pre-logical levels of yourself, to do the beauty you love.

Contemplative Horse is Alpha Horse who teams up with Active Horse. In the nature of things Active Horse would be at a loss without Alpha Horse to give the cues and set the pace of the gallop, right? You’d think they were a matched pair, but Alpha-Contemplative gets the subtle privilege of the pre-dawn and directs Active where to head in when the time comes. And remember, both Alpha-Contemplative Horse and Active Horse, in the way of animals, love each other and would be miserable without the other.

This has not spoken specifically to the matter of the possessions necessary and appropriate to our lives. To do so, a couple of examples: Joseph Heller and Kurt Vonnegut were once on their way to a cocktail party in the mansion of an extremely rich man. As they approached Vonnegut asked Heller, “Joe, how does it feel to be going to a party in the house of a man who makes more in one day than the entire royalties you’ve earned in your whole life?” He replied, “But Kurt, I have something that he doesn’t have.” “What’s that?” “I know when I have enough.”

A personal example may be appropriate. Jazz has been important to me since I first played drums in a high-school band which included Don Ellis. I gave up my drum set upon entering the monastery, though not my conviction that “It Don’t Mean a Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing.” Thus you’ll understand the allure of Santa Barbara’s Used CD Store, “Morning Glory Music,” with its collection of used jazz CDs, the bargain prices of used merchandise, the opportunity to listen to a used CD before purchase and the provision to return such a disk for full refund within a week. The siren song of Morning Glory Music will sometimes be heard when I find myself downtown with time on my hands and pop into the store to look over the jazz and fantasize as people fantasize over ads in the New Yorker and recollect a misspent youth. Recently I came across a two-disk set of “Duke Ellington Live at the Blue Note” . . . omigod, omigod! Then I said to myself, “Parker, you have plenty of Ellington already in your collection which you rarely listen to; why would you want more?”

What is going on here? Complex issues, like the excellence of Ellington and wanting to associate with it, the enchantment of jazz as a symbol of my past, the thrift shop allure of the bargain price, but perhaps more to the point: a certain addiction to novelty. I did not buy the set and may just content myself with listening to some of it on my portable CD player which the shop allows. Still learning to ride the horses.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

BCP - Proper 12 C - 29 Jul 2007

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Mrs. Suzette L. Cayless, AHC
BCP – Proper 12 C – Sunday, July 29, 2007

Genesis 18:20-33
Colossians 2:6-15
Luke 11:1-13


A verse from the first lesson today:
“... but Abraham still stood before the Lord.” Genesis 18:22b
Let us look at the context of that verse.

At the beginning of Genesis chapter 17, the Lord appears to Abram and calls him into a covenant relationship. The writer notes in verse 3 “Then Abram fell on his face;”. Was this because of Abram’s awareness of God and his holiness? Was it his realization of the importance of the call? In chapter 18 the Lord appears to Abraham “as he sat at the door of his tent in the heat of the day.” Was this appearance of the Lord to Abraham in the course of meditation? of reflection on his call? Abraham welcomes three strangers, offers hospitality, and hears the prediction of a child to be born to Sarah. Then follows the visit of the three men to Sodom and Gomorrah to carry out the destruction of the cities. And God shares with Abraham his intention as Abraham “still stood before the Lord.”

Abram “fell on his face;” “sat at the door of his tent;” “stood before the Lord.”
Movements in the life of prayer:
  • fell on his face - a recognition of God, submission of the will to him.
  • sat at the door of his tent - learning, sitting at God’s feet to reflect and grow in faith.
  • stood before the Lord - interceding on behalf of others, standing and talking with God without fear and with perseverance.

When I was about nine or ten years old I learned to knit! An aunt, who was my godmother, taught me to do this. We did very simple things at first but went on to quite complicated items. I recall the day when I started to knit a pair of gloves. My father came home and I told him what I was doing. His comment was, “You are always starting something new but you never seem to finish anything.” That dampened my enthusiasm quite a bit! I don’t remember whether I ever finished that pair of gloves. Sir Francis Drake, the English sea captain who led the Armada in the defeat of Spain for Elizabeth I, is attributed with saying: “There must be a beginning of any great matter, but the continuing unto the end until it be thoroughly finished yields the true glory.”

Perseverance is a theme in today’s readings. Abraham stands before God and pleads for the righteous people who, he thinks, must be present amongst the wicked in those cities of the plains. “Wilt thou indeed destroy the righteous with the wicked? Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city ...” He argues his case and God agrees that if he finds fifty righteous in the city he will spare the whole place. Abraham does not give up. He continues pleading. “What if the number lacks five people?” And so it goes on ... suppose forty righteous are found? thirty? twenty? ten? At that point the Lord went his way and Abraham returned to his place. The perseverance of Abraham is the important thing here. He does not give up. His awareness of God, of the holiness, justice of God, his own trust in God, compel him to intercede for others.

In the Colossians reading, Paul urges his readers to live in Christ, reminding them that the old covenant has been superceded; that the legal demands of the law have been nailed to the cross. Through baptism they, and we, have been raised to new life and we are expected to live out all that this implies. Part of this new life is faithfulness in prayer and it is spelled out in the Gospel reading. Ask, seek, knock - never give up; always persist knowing that God is faithful and loves us.

Sometimes even righteous people can be mistaken where perseverance is concerned as we see in this story found in Leaving Home” by Garrison Keillor:
‘In the Sanctified Brethren church, a tiny fundamentalist bunch who we were in, ... they were given to disputing small points of doctrine that to them seemed the very fulcrum of the faith. We were cursed with a surplus of scholars and a deficit of peacemakers, and so we tended to be divisive and split into factions. One dispute when I was a boy had to do with the question of hospitality toward those in error, whether kindness shown to one who holds false doctrine implicates you in his wrongdoing.

Uncle Al had family and friends on both sides of the so-called Cup of Cold Water debate, and it broke his heart. The dispute was really between two men, Brother Wm. Miller and Brother Jas. Johnson, who had dragged others into it, and so, one fine August day, Uncle Al tried to make peace between those two marbleheads and prevent a great deal of unhappiness for the rest of us. He arranged for them to meet at his and Aunt Flo’s one Sunday, a few Millerites and a few Johnsonians, not to discuss the hospitality-to-error doctrine but simply to enjoy a dinner of Aunt Flo’s famous fried chicken.

It took weeks to arrange. Uncle Al worked through an intermediary, Brother Fields, who had never shown hospitality to anyone, whether in error or not, and who therefore was neutral on the question. Finally, one Sunday, they arrived, in two cars, both Fords, the Brethren being united on the General Motors question. Out climbed, slowly, some gaunt flinty-eyed thin-lipped men in dark floppy suits and their plump obedient wives, and they came in the house and sat in awesome silence in the living room until the call to dinner, and they trooped in around the long dining-room table, extended with two leaves so they wouldn’t have to sit close, and the Millerites and Johnsonians bowed their heads in prayer.

Prayer was a delicate matter. Brethren were known to use even prayer before a meal as a platform, and so Al the peacemaker, concerned lest one brother take prayer and beat the others over the head with it, said, “Let us bow our heads in silent prayer, giving thanks for the meal,” and they bowed their heads and closed their eyes and - a long time passed; the old clock ticked on the bureau; a cat walked in and meowed and left; a child snickered and was stifled; cars went by; there were dry sniffs and throat-clearings; and soon it was clear that neither side wanted to stop before the other; they were seeing who could pray the longest.

Brother Miller peeked through his fingers at Brother Johnson, who was earnestly engaged in silent communion with the Lord, who agreed with him on so many things. His forehead almost touched the plate. So Brother Miller dove back into prayer and the other Brethren stayed under too, sneaking glances around the table to see if anyone else noticed how long it was. Minutes drifted by. Heads stayed bowed, nobody would come up. To stop praying might imply a weakness of faith.

Al said “Amen,” to offer them a way out of the deadlock, and said it again: “Amen.” Brother Miller looked up and saw Johnson still bowed, so he went back down just as Johnson put his periscope up and saw Brother Miller submerged, so down he went. It was becoming the longest table grace in history, it ground on and on and on, and then Aunt Flo slid her chair back, rose, went to the kitchen, and brought out the food that they were competing to see who could be more thankful for. She set the hay down where the goats could get it. Tears ran down Brother Johnson’s face. His eyes were clamped shut, and tears streamed down, and so was Brother Miller weeping.

It’s true what they say, that smell is the key that unlocks our deepest memories, and with their eyes closed, the smell of fried chicken and gravy made those men into boys again. It was years ago, they were fighting, and a mother’s voice from on high said, “You two stop it and get in here and have your dinners. Now. I mean it.” The blessed cornmeal crust and rapturous gravy brought the memory to mind, and the stony hearts of the two giants slowly melted; they raised their heads and filled their plates and slowly peace was made over that glorious chicken.’

Our intention in praying is as important as perseverance. We do not pray to demonstrate our own holiness or piety or endurance. Those three movements in prayer illustrated in the Abraham story are worth pondering. He “fell on his face,” - growing in awareness of God never ends, as long as we retain an attitude of humility and the desire to worship. He “sat at the door of his tent,” - learning more of the nature of God is open to us as we reflect and ponder on what we know and have experienced and keep seeking further truth. He “stood before the Lord,” - entering more faithfully into the action of interceding for the world and the needs of others is a call to all of us, perseverance being the key to doing it. God is faithful, but often he waits for our cooperation and for our perceptions as to what is required even if these are mistaken. God wants our participation, even while we are sinful human beings. A little further on in Genesis we read of Abraham pretending that Sarah is his sister to avoid a problem in Gerar but he continued to persevere on the journey to which he had been called. God desires our transformation so that we may live in Christ and ASK, SEEK, and KNOCK for ourselves, for others, and for the world.

Amen.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

BCP - Proper 11 C - 22 Jul 2007

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park
Br. Robert James Magliula, n/OHC
BCP - Proper 11 C - Sunday 22 July 2007

Genesis 18:1-14
Colossians 1:21-29
Luke 10:38-42

Our readings today focus on relationships, primarily our relationship with God, and how that defines our relationships with ourselves and each other. Through the stories of Abraham & Sarah, Paul, and Martha & Mary, we get some surprising glimpses into ourselves.


(Christus in het huis van Martha en Maria) - Johannes Vermeer - c. 1654-1656 - oil on canvas - National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh

Life in these last months has brought me to a deeper realization of just how poor we are in grasping the mutuality, the give and take of our relationship with God and how that impacts on our relationships to ourselves and to each other. The revelation of God in Christ is God-with-us. It's easy to loose sight of the “with”. The revelation of God in Christ is not God-above- us, nor God-instead-of –us, nor God-without-us. It is certainly not about us without God or us instead of God.

Scripture is full of clues that describe a creative partnership between divine and human, a mutual partnership between human response and divine indwelling. Paul in his letters describes us as “collaborators with God”, “fellow workers”, working together.

Most of us are more familiar with traditions that avoid the mystery of divine/human co-creative partnership. We tend to stress one side or the other. I don’t know why we have this tendency to think in terms of either/or instead of both/and. It may seem simpler on the surface, but its implications become much more compex in our psyches and in our lives.

There are two dominant theological traditions and spiritualities that flow from this either/or mentality into which many people try to squeeze themselves. The first is a Calvinistic approach that dwells on the majesty, the totality of God’s will and power. All that is good in life comes from God. All that is flawed comes from humanity. God plans and we accommodate ourselves to the pre-ordained will of God, which is worked out to the smallest detail. The spirituality is one of submission and obedience.

The other tradition is a kind of humanism that says that God has created us to live autonomously in the world. God is content to be an onlooker as we struggle through life. God is seen as the guardian of abstract values, which we are expected to make concrete in our lives.

So God either controls or abandons us. Is it a wonder that people shrink from approaching God. So many are conditioned to believe that the closer to God they come, the more God will take over their life, absorb their freedom, and overwhelm their individuality.

The Christian mystery says something very different. I find scholastic and academic theologians of little help in breaking this bind. The mystics come closer to pointing the way. Their language is one of passion. They are able to name desire. Their lives underline the profound truth that we are the desire of God’s heart and that God is the deepest desire of ours. We need to leave behind images of control, submission, and abandonment. We would do better to consider the creative God who delights in our co-creativity, a spontaneous God who delights in our spontaneity, a free God who intends us to be free and yet also intends us to be in intimacy.

We have all had experiences in life, which leave us grasping for meaning. A key to the spirituality of our co- creativity with God is that we work with God to find or make meaning in whatever situation or circumstance we face. Think of prayer as us turning to God and God to us and asking each other what we will make of the specifics we find ourselves confronted by. Prayer is an exploring together of the meaning to be fashioned. We make meaning in our lives together with God. God will not decide for us and tell us in advance. We all want the answer, the key, but Christ did not take on our flesh in order to tell us what to do. His incarnation is our invitation to become more fully human and to participate more deeply in this divine/human mystery that is revealed in him. Meaning is made not by God and handed to us, nor is it made by us and offered to God, but rather by us and God together in a wonderful, unique, and intimate process.

Our lessons today remind us of God’s ability to surprise us by colloborating with us in making new meaning. In the case of Abraham and Sarah, to find new life where they thought there was none. For Paul it was the realization born of his own struggles and limitations, that we can only work with what we have----and that includes our imperfections. That is the only road toward wholeness. Martha and Mary remind us that meaning is to be found in our daily lives and routines-----very Benedictine! Our need is to stay focused on Christ as we do what needs to be done. Martha was not being criticized for being responsible and active---but for being distracted---the Greek means literally, “to be pulled in many directions.” If Christ is our center, then we can venture out focused and nourished to do whatever is set before us.

God meets us exactly where we are, invites us to use our unique gifts to become more focused on the transforming power of love, and challenges us to grow deeper, stronger, and more faithful in love with God and each other.
+Amen.