Gospel text for Sunday 18 December 2022

 Matthew 1:18-25

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

“Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall name him Emmanuel,”

which means, “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

Reflection        Of what are you afraid? Being censured for living in accord with your conscience? Being convicted for challenging the status quo? Being condemned for speaking the unspeakable? loving the unlovable?

The angel said to Joseph, “Do not be afraid…”  Do not be afraid to do what is right even though it puts you crosswise with social, cultural and religious laws and order. Do not be afraid to protect and cherish a pregnant teenager and raise her son as a Holy gift of God. “Do not be afraid.” The angel’s counsel rings through the years to awaken our ears.

Of what are you afraid? Being censured for living in accord with your conscience? Being convicted for challenging the status quo? Being condemned for speaking the unspeakable? loving the unlovable?

Fear is formidable. When bound by trembling, trepidation or timidity  there is no possibility for light, life and love to enter and take root in us. But, when we choose to live without fear we are the fertile ground in which the seed of Holiness is planted, gestates, is born and raised. This I believe is the heart of the story of the ill conceived birth of Jesus to Mary and Joseph. 

What will it take for us to awaken from the dream that by refusing risk or responsibility we can escape the rough and tumble stumbles of life? What will it take for us to consent to Holiness born in and of, with and through us? The answer is simple. Living without fear.

Living without fear; new light penetrates even our darkest darkness, love replaces faint heartedness and Holiness is born of us. And yes, the birth of Holiness costs our whole lives.

If you find this post to be meaningful please share by clicking on icons below. Thank you. 

Gospel text for the Feast of All Saints 30 October 2022

Luke 6:20-31

Jesus looked up at his disciples and said:

"Blessed are you who are poor,

for yours is the kingdom of God.

"Blessed are you who are hungry now,

for you will be filled.

"Blessed are you who weep now,

for you will laugh.

"Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.

"But woe to you who are rich,

for you have received your consolation.

"Woe to you who are full now,

for you will be hungry.

"Woe to you who are laughing now,

for you will mourn and weep.

"Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets

"But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you.”

Reflection        We are all saints, or at least we can be because saints are ordinary people who refuse to experience the world divided in two buckets; visible - invisible, divine - human, sacred - secular, physical - spiritual, blessing - woe. Saints are ordinary people who seek unity rather than duality. 

Here is the thing. Our lives depend on both; visible and invisible, divine and human, sacred and secular, physical and spiritual, blessing and woe. We begin our lives seeing only black and white. Two months pass before newborns can distinguish red and green and a few more weeks before they can tell apart blues and yellows. It takes time for the cells of the eye to mature and the brain to make sense of subtle signals, like the countless shades of grey. Much as mature vision proceeds through developmental steps so too does our capacity to experience life in shades of grey rather than in competing buckets of black or white, blessing or woe. But unlike our eyes which for most of us mature by autopilot, it is through choice and deliberate practice that we mature to experience the unifying consciousness of ‘this and that’ rather than dualistic consciousness of ‘this or that.’  

Which begs the question, what constitutes deliberate practice that fosters the development of unifying consciousness?  I believe it is as simple as seven words and as ungraspable as mercury. The deliberate practice intended to develop unifying consciousness is simply following Jesus’ example and praying, “Not my will, your will be done.” Seven simple words!

In his essay, “The Meaning of Holiness” the French philosopher Louis Lavelle insists that we all have the potential to be saints, which is to say, to experience the presence and action of God with us, to live in the tension of the seen and unseen, the material and the spiritual. Saints are ordinary people who live extraordinary lives because of their disciplined intention to live praying, “Not my will, your will be done.”  When we live in accord with the will of God ours are lives of holiness and we thrive in right relationship with all people and creation. 

Much like accomplished baseball pitchers, pianists, professors, construction workers, teachers or firefighters who persist in disciplined study and practice in their respective fields, if we aspire to holiness of life we must exercise our spiritual muscles through disciplined prayer, worship, study and the diligent practice of living, “Not my will, your will be done.”

And, when the insufferable nay sayer that hides behind our heart stages a protest insisting, “How can I know the will of God?’  Jesus  answers.  "But I say to you that listen, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.”  And if that is not clear, how about Jesus’ summary? “Do to others as you would have them do to you.”

Do to others as you would have them do to you. Others. All others. Jesus offers no exceptions. It sounds like that means when someone cuts us off while driving on Interstate 10, we bless rather than curse them. When someone is wrestling with their candy wrapper during a heart stopping scene at the theatre or shuffling pages during contemplative prayer, we choose to hear their sounds as divine music rather than personal affronts. When someone is citing their social, political or religious position quite contrary to ours, rather than attacking, defending or beating a quick retreat, we open our hearts and minds to listen with respect. When face to face with the one person who always rubs us the wrong way, we make ourselves smile and see them as holy because we are ordinary saints and so are they. 

We are ordinary saints because we choose to exercise our spiritual muscles through disciplined prayer, worship, study and diligent practice of living in accord with seven simple words. “Not my will, your will be done.” Are we perfect? No. And that is what makes ordinary saints both divine and human. 

If you find this post to be meaningful please share by clicking on icons below. Thank you. 

 Lavelle Louis. The Meaning of Holiness, London, Burns & Oates, 1953.

Gospel Text for Sunday 11 September 2022

 

 Matthew 6.9-13 

(Jesus said) Pray then in this way: 

Our Parent and Provider in heaven,

holy is your Name. 

May your majestic rule come.  

May your will be done,

on earth as in heaven. 

Give us this day our daily bread. 

And forgive us our debts, 

as we also forgive our debtors. 

And do not bring us to the time of trial, 

but rescue us from that which is evil.

 

Reflection       Seated in a wheelchair at a pleasant assisted-living dining room table, Veronica’s gnarled fingers fumbled with wilted playing cards. With mulish determination she labored, counting to seven then starting over, again and again and again. Remembering that Veronica had been an avid bridge player, not to mention black jack and craps aficionado, I queried, “Playing bridge Veronica?” For the first time since I sat down next to her Veronica turned toward me and from a place deep behind her empty eyes she threatened to smile then promptly resumed dealing cards. 

Various care-givers came by, initiating small talk or sharing their comments about Veronica’s declining condition. She remained nonplussed. When twenty five minutes had passed I leaned my head in front of Veronica’s and said, “Let’s pray. Our Father, who …” and with that her hazy grey eyes met mine and through a veil of tears she joined me praying the words aloud with precise lucidity. In the background I heard two care-givers adding their voices to our imprecation.  “Amen.”  A moment or a lifetime elapsed until with unfettered sincerity, the full force of her voice and unblinking eye contact Veronica announced, “I have never been so lost.” Swallowing tears I replied, “And now you are found by Our Father.” 

In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. (John 1.1) From the beginning words matter. They can harm us or heal us. Ravage us or rescue us because words matter.

The very first word of the prayer found in two of the synoptic gospels, Matthew and Luke, is “Our.” We use the word ‘our’ when we want to communicate belonging to us and one or more other persons. The implication is that we share something in common, and if we share something in common we cannot possibly be alone. 

So, when we are praying we are never praying alone. We are praying in communion with all that belongs to the interconnected web of being, which means, we are praying in communion with all that is. Our father. Our mother. Our parent and protector. Our truth. Our light. Our holiness. Our God.

Whatever name we ascribe to the all encompassing holiness that refuses a singular name, when we pray we are in deliberate communication with the holiness that permeates everyone and every thing.  Our father. Our mother. Our parent and provider. Our truth. Our light. Our holiness. Our God, manifest in all of creation guarantees the infinite variety of holiness.

I believe this is why there are multiple versions of the Our Father prayer.  Because words matter. They can point us toward holiness, or away. Words can open doors and extend invitations or seal passages and set out stumbling blocks. 

Even though we are all included in ‘our,’ not all of us have the same experience of the next word ‘father.’ For some the word father evinces protection and benevolence. For others injury or abandonment. Likewise, for some the word mother conjures care or comfort while for others coldness or antagonism loom. The words ‘parent and provider’ may evoke grace and gratitude or fear and emptiness. Still, we all belong in ‘our’ and thankfully there are many versions of the prayer that Jesus teaches the disciples and us, versions that hopefully provide open doors and invitations so that all feel welcome to participate in the holiness to which we belong.

We use the word ‘our’ to communicate belonging. The implication is this. If God is holiness and God is all and we are part of all, then we are holy and we can never really be lost.

As we face the twenty-first anniversary of the 9/11 carnage, it would be remiss if we failed to note that even though we are all holy we cannot escape evil. 

Not children in classrooms or trafficked for sex.

Not elders preyed on by mail and phone predators.

Not workers exploited by swinish bosses.

Not people caught in the combat of twenty seven ongoing wars and conflicts that vandalize the globe.  

Not housekeepers, clerks, diners or traders in the New York City 

Twin Towers.

All of these holy people cannot escape evil nor can any one of us stop it. So we pray. Our father. Our mother. Our parent and provider. Our truth. Our light. Our holiness. Our God. We pray because in our prayer we all belong and in our prayer we are restored to common holiness.

If you find this post to be meaningful please share by clicking on icons below. Thank you. 

Hebrew Testament text for Sunday 26 October 2020

 Leviticus 19:1-2,15-18

The Lord spoke to Moses, saying:

Speak to all the congregation of the people of Israel and say to them: You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.

You shall not render an unjust judgment; you shall not be partial to the poor or defer to the great: with justice you shall judge your neighbor. You shall not go around as a slanderer among your people, and you shall not profit by the blood of your neighbor: I am the Lord.

You shall not hate in your heart anyone of your kin; you shall reprove your neighbor, or you will incur guilt yourself. You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.

Reflection        Tuesday afternoon I watched as University of Arizona researcher Dante Lauretta’s audacious dream born in 2011 came true. Nine years, 1.16 billion dollars and the devoted collaboration of thousands of individuals kissed the asteroid Bennu with the Osiris Rex spacecraft 200 million miles away from Tucson, Arizona precisely on a spot the size of a couple of parking spaces. When the spacecraft touched down for a mere few moments and grabbed a sample of what might be the original grit of creation,  the ground crews eyes teared above their masked mouths as they pumped their arms and shouted celebration with a singular voice. “We did it. We did it!”  Sometimes this is exactly what we humans need to be set on fire and inspired to be more that we ever imagined; a dream, a big, audacious, adventurous, impossible dream.

Which makes me wonder if this is what God has in mind when compelling   Moses to deliver an even more audacious call to all of humanity, “You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.” Please pause and chew on these words, swallow them, let them have their way with you. “You shall be holy.” There is no equivocation, You SHALL be holy. You MUST be holy. Now let me be clear, the injunction to holiness is not limited to a few special people called to holy orders or set aside for religious life. The you of “you shall be holy” refers to “all the congregation of Israel.” This second person point of view belongs to all the people being addressed, whoever hears these words. Today, this is you. YOU shall be holy. You MUST be holy.

We cannot escape it. We are created in the image and likeness of God. We are meant to be a holy people, people whose lives individually and collectively are conformed to God’s audacious call to to be holy. 

You may well argue, does not God make it patently clear that God is God and we are not? Surely our righteous ancestor Job, with whom neither the devil nor God could find fault, was quaking on his ash heap as God bellows out of the whirlwind to Job’s sick and suffering soul.

⁷ ‘Gird up your loins like a man;

   I will question you, and you declare to me. 

⁸ Will you even put me in the wrong?

   Will you condemn me that you may be justified? 

⁹ Have you an arm like God,

   and can you thunder with a voice like his? 

  ^…

‘Can you draw out Leviathan with a fish-hook,

   or press down its tongue with a cord?” (Job 40.7-9, 41.1)

Hearing that would be daunting but I say, acknowledging the distance between God and us is rather like reckoning the 200 million miles between the University of Arizona space lab and the asteroid Bennu. By daring to seek the unreachable, unspeakable fulfillment comes near. 

We are called to the audacious dream of holiness and just in case we get bogged down in details or derailed by arguments of what is just, lawful, merciful or true, our text from Leviticus graciously concludes with a succinct summary statement. “You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.”  In other words, to be holy as God is holy we are not to hate one another, not to hold grudges, but to act with mercy and love toward one another. 

We answer God’s call to live holy lives by treating the aged, the infirm and the poor with care and consideration. We speak truth and do not profit at the expense of others. We do not nurture resentment or seek retaliation. Rather, we show thoughtfulness, grant forgiveness and volunteer hospitality, even, and perhaps especially to those whom we believe occupy space 200 million miles away from us.

God compels Moses to deliver an audacious call to all of humanity, “You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.” Although the dream of holiness may seem to be 200 millions miles beyond our reach, being made in the image and likeness of God,  nothing is  impossible for us when we direct our hearts and minds, our actions and resources to make God’s dream come true together. If we can kiss an asteroid 200 million miles away, surely we can be kind to our neighbors. 

If you found this post to be meaningful, please share by clicking on icons below. Thank you. 

Gospel text for Sunday 28 July 2019

2019 07 28  Luke 11:1-13        Jesus was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, "Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples." He said to them, "When you pray, say:

Father, hallowed be your name.

Your kingdom come.

Give us each day our daily bread.

And forgive us our sins,

for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.

And do not bring us to the time of trial."

And he said to them, "Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, `Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.' And he answers from within, `Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.' I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs.

"So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

Reflection       Tuesday morning as the sun was rising amidst clouds blooming with the hope of rain Mojo, my wee furry friend,  and I embarked on our typical dawn adventure. My role is to listen and chant morning prayer with Mission St. Clare tuned in on my phone. Mojo’s duty is to clear the way of anything that walks, slithers, hops or flies between his pit stops at every vertical edifice. Last Tuesday, however, was distinctive.

A mere two blocks away from home, at the same moment both Mojo and I noticed two mourning doves standing in the middle of the street. Uncharacteristically, rather than leap ahead to chase the feathered creatures, Mojo stopped and silently stared. Which led me to pause morning prayer and join his vigil. It turns out one of the birds was injured and the other spread its wings while seemingly shielding and shuttling the crippled flyer across the street.  Not a single muscle moved between us as Mojo and I witnessed the able feathered friend direct the hurt bird to safety among the low branches of a Texas Ranger bush. It struck me that throughout this safeguarding mission the uninjured bird allowed itself to be vulnerable to the us, potential predators, who were standing just a few yards away.  

Once the birds were safely hidden Mojo resumed walking in the opposite direction. It was quite awhile before I resumed morning prayer because I was absorbed in a reflective reverie. Everything about this moment broadcast holiness. Had I just witnessed empathy among two birds and a dog? Empathy is the awareness of, sensitivity to and ability to share the feelings of another. Is that why Mojo stopped in silence rather than his routine bark and chase response? And, empathy is the root of compassion, or concern for the suffering of others. Is that why the intact bird sheltered the injured bird with its wings and urged it into hiding?

There I was “in a certain place” on an ordinary Tuesday morning, on a run of the mill suburban street when Jesus’ prayer broke in, “Father…  Your kingdom come.” For surely this is it, the kingdom wherein all creatures pause, aware of, sensitive to and sharing the feelings of one another. Surely this is the kingdom come wherein all creatures pause with concern for the suffering of others, even a different species.  

Oh Jesus, teach us how to pray and connect to the sure and certain empathy that is at the root of our very being, a root that we share with all creatures in creation. Jesus, please teach us to pray and stay in relationship with the holy, the holy that we find in a “certain place,” not necessarily a temple or church, not at a particular hour or appointed occasion, just a certain “anyplace,” that will follow us all the days of our life and like an open window allow us a glimpse of holiness in the midst of now. 

If you found this post to be meaningful please share by clicking on icons below. Thank you. 

Gospel text for Sunday 12 May 2019

John 10:22-30        At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon. So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, "How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly." Jesus answered, "I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father's name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father's hand. The Father and I are one.”

Reflection       Thanks to the brave guerilla fighter Judas Maccabee, in the year 166BCE the Temple building is restored to holiness, the center of Jewish worship is intact. Still, two hundred years later in John's gospel text the Jews  are looking for the Messiah, the king or high priest who will lead them to a happily ever after life. Lately many of them have seen and almost all of them have heard about the man Jesus, the inscrutable prophet who touches and heals, teaches with authority, forgives unconditionally, offers hope to all people, and at the same time he is irreverent, hangs out with all the wrong folks,  violates  Temple traditions and discredits the orthodoxy of the elite religious and political authorities. 

The Jews are not sure what to make of Jesus. So when they see him  “walking in the Temple, in the portico of Solomon” they ask him, “If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.” But Jesus’ speech is anything but plain. Of course, they do not understand. They cannot hear the deep meaning of Jesus’ words.  They cannot see that Jesus embodies the temple, the new way of worship in Spirit and in Truth. (John 4.23) I believe this is what Jesus was alluding to earlier in John’s gospel when he drove the vendors who were selling sheep and cattle, doves and money out of the Temple and said, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.” (John 2.19)      

From our privileged point of view two thousand years later, we know Jesus is not talking about a superhero’s brick and mortar magical building plan.  Jesus is talking about his own body, all of our bodies, as the new temples of God, the new places of holiness. And, Jesus did not make this up.

From the very beginning we hear in one of our Genesis creation myths God speaking, “‘Let Us make humankind in Our image, in Our likeness’…. So God created humankind in God’s own image…” (Gen 1.26-27) Like Jesus, all of humanity is meant to be the dwelling place, the temple, the image of God. The contemporary theologian and wisdom bearer, Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks cites Leviticus in which “The Lord says to Moses: “Speak to the entire assembly of Israel and say to them, ‘Be holy because I, the Lord, your God, am holy,’” (Lev 19.1-2) and  goes on to explain, this is the first time such an all inclusive command from God is resolutely articulated. Sacks writes, “It is life itself that is to be sanctified…  Holiness is to be made manifest in the way the nation makes its clothes and plants its fields, in the way justice is administered, workers are paid, and business conducted. The vulnerable – the deaf, the blind, the elderly, and the stranger – are to be afforded special protection. The whole society is to be governed by love, without resentments or revenge.”*

Sacks calls this “the radical democratisation of holiness.” Prior to this communication between God and Moses the Jews understood the place of the Temple to be holy and only certain designated holy people, the priests, had access to it. So this is a great re-turning point in our human story,  an expanded understanding of our relationship with God and one another. We are all meant to be holy, to be temples of the living God, which means all people are to be dignified and cared for, at least as well as we care for our temples, our churches, our homes. 

As we remember the Festival of the Dedication of the Temple shall we rededicate our selves, our souls and bodies as the new temples of God? Shall we reaffirm our commitment to dignify and care for all people as well as we care for our brick and mortar homes, churches and temples? 

* Rabbi Sacks blog  Covenant and Conversation, 8 May 2019

If you found this post to be meaningful please share by clicking on icons below. Thank you.