Christmas homily by Brother Marc

Here in church we take several days to read about the birth of Christ, though the gospels are somewhat sparse. Sunday, we heard the list of Christ’s ancestry: 42 generations of famous Biblical personages. Christmas eve we heard the story of the conception of Christ by Mary through the Holy Spirit: “The virgin will give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel, which means ‘God is with us.’” Mary’s husband, Joseph, after a visionary dream protected and cared for her and the unborn child, and Mary made a significant visitation to her cousin Elizabeth, the mother of John the Prophet and Forerunner of Christ.

Later we followed the Holy Family from Nazareth to Bethlehem for the Roman census. After his birth they wrapped the boy in swaddling clothes, laid him in a manger, and named him Jesus. Other sources mention the animals warming the stable. We heard again about the shepherds in nearby fields surrounded by an angelic choir, like the northern lights, that sang, “Glory to God in the highest heaven and peace on earth through God’s favor.” They joined the crèche, trailing in some sheep and lambs, I’m sure. And so it says Mary treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.

Br. Peter chanted the Gospel passage about the Magi’s gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to the child—gifts fit for a king or priest and healer. And we will later hear about the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt and the murder of young children by Herod.

It was said somewhere “At the moment when history is blackest, and in the least expected and obvious place, the Son of God is born…" At the very solstice moment when the days are the shortest—and darkness seems to have conquered light—the sun passes its lowest point. Something new is born. The days grow longer, and the ultimate conquest over winter is sure. This astronomical process is seen as a parable of the Incarnation. The title “never-setting Sun of Righteousness,” with its global and eternal perspective, (from the book of Malachi 4:2) was anciently applied to Christ pouring out his radiance through human flesh and enlightening our souls and bodies.

The Prologue of the Fourth Gospel, the Gospel of John, takes up this theme, too: 3: "All things were made by him." 4: "He is the light of all people," 5: "…the true light that enlightens everyone." 12: "To all who received him he gave power to become children of God." 14: “The word was made flesh and lived among us.”

On December 25 in the Year of our Lord 386, the newly ordained preacher, John Chrysostom, formally introduced the celebration of Christmas into Christian Antioch in Syria. Many were skeptical then about separating it from the feast of the Baptism of Christ on Theophany, though for us now in fact Theophany has become the twelfth day of Christmas. Christmas was first popular in the West, where the ancient records were kept. The golden-mouthed saint said it had been observed there from the earliest times. The Romans were uniquely qualified to know the precise date of the nativity, and it was they “who have now transmitted reliable knowledge of it to us.” Because of this day, this holy feast, he explained to the crowds in the basilica there,

the ancient slavery is ended,

evil confounded, demons scattered,

death is broken,

paradise is unlocked,

the curse is taken away,

sin is blotted out,

error is driven out,

truth has been brought back,

talk of kindliness abounds,

a heavenly way of life has been in-planted on earth.

Today’s three readings give us similar reasons for our Christmas joy. [Jer. 23:3-8]: Jeremiah said…No one shall be lost. [Gal. 4:4-7]: Paul wrote: We are all God’s people and heirs of God’s spirit. [Mt 11:28-29]: And just as with the gospel magi, we are meant to find what we are seeking.

So, December 25th and the dark solstice have been transmuted into a moment of joyful singing and liturgy in heaven and on earth,

A moment not blind to sorrow, death and deceit, but, still,

It is a moment to find some inner peace and celebrate the incarnate and cosmic Christ with music in our hearts. Let’s take the moment to enjoy it.

Ancestors of Christ, Genesis 15:1-6, Hebrews 11:8-12, Matthew 1:1-17

As preached by Sister CeceliaDecember 22, 2019

Holy Wisdom Church

Luke’s gospel takes the genealogy back to Adam and does not include any women. Matthew’s gospel, which we have just heard, links Joseph’s line only as far back as Abraham. His version includes 4 women and then jumps to Mary, spouse of Joseph. What was Matthew trying to convey by including these women and only going back to Abraham?

In some of the Midrash I came across many stories about Abram that gave me an insight into what Matthew might have been thinking. In one legend, Abram’s father, Terah, was a believer in twelve gods and was also a store owner who made and sold effigies of the many gods believed in by the peoples surrounding Abram’s tribe. Abram had given much thought to the nature of the gods and come to the conclusion that there is only one God, creator of all.

Abraham had been left in charge of running the shop where the idols were sold. As the people came in to buy the idols Abraham would ask how old they were and then would remark how strange to worship something younger than they were themselves. When an older woman brought in a dish of meat to be offered to her idol in the store Abraham used a heavy club to break all the idols but one. He set the dish of meat in front of it. When his father returned, he was aghast, but Abraham told him that all the idols had wanted the meat and the strongest knocked off the heads of all the others so it could have it all. His father remarked that the idols were only wood and stone, so it could not be.

Abraham remarked: “Listen to what you yourself say.” 

Stories like this give us a picture of Abraham searching after God and dissatisfied by the idolatry of his people. So, when God’s call came to him, he was ready to go out into the unknown. He had faith in the word of God to him. He trusted that God was ultimately leading him and would fulfill God’s promises to him.

Mary, Jesus’ mother, is thought to be of David’s line, since she married Joseph. Linking Jesus to David’s line emphasizes Jesus’ solidarity with all humanity, through David’s connection with the father of faith, Abraham. It links the two testaments, Old and New . Jesus refers to himself as the Son of Man rather than the Son of David, making the associations less fixed and less narrowly nationalistic. The women listed in the genealogy also bring to mind the more universal nature of the message Jesus brought with his good news. 

According to Matthew’s version, the early ancestors were not all of the purely Hebrew line. Judah had only three sons, whose mother was a Canaanite. The first son, Er, married Tamar, another Canaanite, but he died before any children were conceived. In order not to be a childless widow, since Judah would not send his third son to marry Tamar, Tamar tricks Judah, pretending to be a harlot, and becomes pregnant. When Judah goes to Tamar’s family to insist on justice—that is, death for adultery—he is proven indeed to be the father. Unlike abusive incest, this intentional act leads Tamar out of her father’s house to establish not just a house of her own, but one of eternal significance in the future of Israel. A stone that builders rejected became a cornerstone. Tamar—feared, denied, and set aside—is the cornerstone upon whom the house of the Messiah is built.

Rahab, the mother of Boaz, was a prostitute in Jericho, a Canaanite town that Joshua was directed to conquer for the Hebrew people to live in. It was with her help that Joshua succeeded. Rahab instructs us in the way of grace. She intercedes for her family as its self-appointed savior. Grace is not a private possession but is contagious, moving from one person to another. Rahab perceives God’s might and truth and trusts herself and all her family to God’s beneficence. 

Ruth’s story is better known than these other two. Like Abraham, she leaves everything she has known, but without the comfort of divine call or promise, to follow Naomi. In addition to introducing an alien ancestry to David’s and Jesus’ line, Ruth asserts an element foreign to patriarchal culture: that of an initiating woman who makes things happen. She exemplifies a mode of being, where to do for another is to be for them, to be one with them. 

 Bathsheba is not mentioned in the list except to identify her as the wife of Uriah the Hittite. She is yet another foreigner in those of David’s line. 

What was Matthew trying to convey by including these women and only going back as far as Abraham? He seems to be encouraging us to share in the faith and trust these individuals had for God, the creator of all. As we use the gifts God has given us, be open to all, to sinners, as well as those who are not of our race or religious persuasion. Remember always that: God is with (among) us!  

Homily on Luke 7:36–50   December 1, 2019

By Sister Rebecca

Jesus consistently chooses the “path of meeting the marginalized of society.” In fact, as in today’s Gospel, these very broken ones are drawn to Jesus. It is precisely because Jesus was “suffering with” the marginalized—showing them compassion—that those in power challenged his authority. This is the case in today’s Gospel passage, as well. Simon, a Pharisee, a religious leader, has invited Jesus to dine in his home.  Suddenly, out of the blue, an uninvited, unnamed woman appears who is described simply as a “sinner in the city.” She doesn’t open her mouth.  Rather, she weeps, wets Jesus’ feet with her tears, wipes them with her hair, kisses them, and anoints them with perfumed oil. Upon listening to this story of such a display of loving sorrow, who cannot be moved by this woman deemed a sinner, portraying before Jesus her broken heart?

I would like to focus this morning on Simon the Pharisee.  He certainly does not come across as broken.  He was an educated Jewish leader.  The Gospels often report Pharisees as exhibiting self-righteousness.  They are not only learned, but also steeped in the knowledge of the Law of Moses.  They were considered to be paragons of faith.  Simon’s attitude shows that this woman, intruding into this party, has two strikes against her:  being a woman was strike one, and being a sinner was strike two.  Pharisees are portrayed as ordered and rule-abiding, in contrast to this woman’s spontaneous, unconventional, and socially inappropriate actions.

In imagining this story, I cannot help but see Simon’s facial expression of disdain, haughtiness, and extreme disapproval.  In his mind, he demonizes her. The text says that he thinks to himself: “If this man Jesus were a prophet, he would see who this woman is: a sinner.”  Jesus is quick to perceive where Simon’s mind was going.

At this point I would like to pause and explore what Luke makes clear. Simon objects silently “to himself” (literally: thinks to himself).  Luke highlights Simon’s unspoken thoughts and Jesus’ ability to perceive them.  In this scene, Luke sees a fulfillment of the prophecy pronounced years earlier over the infant Jesus by the prophet Simeon: that because of him, “the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed” (Luke 2:35). Luke tends to use the internal monologue for characters whose thoughts embody self-centeredness, disapproval, and judgmental attitudes.  Most commonly in the Hebrew Bible, inner speech depicts the thoughts of those who turn away from God.  Simon here reveals his true character: his thoughts lack love, hospitality, and, in the end, true discernment.  He clearly does not want to dialogue with Jesus.  He prefers to hide out in his own thoughts.  Today’s Gospel is more than just a story of forgiveness.  It is also about a woman who wiped Jesus’ feet with her tears because she knew she was forgiven.  She showed more love than did Simon, who had no reason in his own mind to be forgiven. Simon chooses to play it safe—putting more importance on looking like a righteous person—but in reality, he was not emotionally involved with life or with people like the woman who was considered a sinner.  As an aside, we can see in Simon someone who perhaps identified himself as a righteous one who needs no help.  One of the professed religious hazards is identifying oneself with the exterior religious outward expression.  Simon has not broken through his persona to the best version of his true self—the one Jesus is trying to awaken in him. 

This woman has no name. She has been merely labeled “sinner.”  That is her public ID. She is not even a person, just a despicable object.  Simon acts as though he has the password to who this woman really is. Simon and others see only the externals of her past persona: just a category of shameful women, never to be encountered in the light of day. In the public arena she is the untouchable one, and yet, here she is intruding into a private party, and, horror of horrors, she is publicly touching, in a so-called sentimental way, the very person of Jesus.  She knew herself as a public sinner. But in fact, she becomes a public manifestation of deep vulnerability, one who has no voice, not even self-talk, but who knows deep down who she really is. She is the truest version of herself: the beloved one—and no words are needed or can find expression except in action that is symbolic of the wordless nature of the soul.

Although I would like to end here with wordless contemplation of the deep meaning of this encounter between Jesus and the nameless woman, who is portraying, in fact, a part of everyone here, homilies are meant to use words, sputtering as they may be when it comes to soul-realities, to the kingdom of God in our midst. I would like to offer some words I find meaningful, inspired by Henri Nouwen:

Prayer is encounter with God.  It is not looking at oneself, nor is it self-talk to God; it is not about a little inner seminar with God, thinking profound thoughts.  It is rather careful attentiveness to the Presence of Love as personified in this woman and Jesus this morning.  Like this woman, we are called to present ourselves as we are—an unedited version of our feelings and our thoughts, our very being—to the One who receives them and responds to them with compassion and unconditional love.  God knows our brokenness, but also our minds and hearts, our goodness and beauty, our darkness and our light. 

May the psalmist pray in us: “O Lord, you search me and you know me. You know my resting and my rising.  You discern my purposes from afar…all my ways are open to you…See that I follow not the wrong path and lead me in the path of life eternal.” (cf. Psalm 139)

Sermon 170: Wis12:12b-22; 2Cor 5:13-18; Lk 6:27-35 Love

As preached by Brother Luke
Holy Wisdom Church

        The Egyptian novelist and Nobel Prize winner, Naguib Mahfouz, wrote a novel set in Pharaonic times entitled Akhenaten: dweller in truth^[1] Probably more people remember his wife Nefertiti, in part because of the mystery surrounding her missing tomb and the popularity of her figurine in the tourist trade. But the Pharaoh was famous, or infamous, because he chose to break away from the pantheon of ancient Egyptian gods and to worship one god, Aten the sun disc, a god of love, peace and joy. His faith was in a monotheistic god. This was heresy in Egypt, a movement away from the gods of war and power. The security of the state was at stake. This Pharaoh paid the price for his heresy. Today’s scripture readings would not have been well received in ancient Egypt.

        This struggle between War and Peace is in the West too. I have been drawn to a series of novels by Peter Tremayne set in 7^th century Ireland. The heroine is known as Sister Fidelma, who is at once a religious, a high level legal official and the sister of the King.^[2] Christianity in Ireland at that time was known as the New Faith, as distinguished from the old gods. And many people still adhered to the old ways and the old gods and this is repeatedly brought out in the stories. Even some adherents to the New Faith were drawn to the judging and war like god of the Old Testament rather than the God of love and compassion that we are reminded of in todays readings. Are people today any more ready to believe in a God who is love than were people in ancient times?

        If love were not suspect enough, love your enemies is off the charts. No chance that would become a popular idea. So, how might we understand this text? Abraham Mitrie Rihbany, a  Syrian, of Orthodox Christian heritage, who became a Presbyterian minister, migrated to America in 1891. He was a popular preacher and speaker and his book: The Syrian Christ^[3] is based on a series of articles he wrote for the Atlantic Monthly. In the book, his goal is to shed new light on the meaning of scripture by putting the biblical language into the local cultural context. This he does primarily by referring to Arabic and Hebrew expressions.

        On this morning’s Gospel passage he recalls hearing a Western preacher refer to this quote from the “Sermon on the Mount” as the “Sarcasm on the Mount” since loving one’s enemies is not humanly possible. This conclusion follows from a misunderstanding of the language. Rihbany points out that the word for love in Arabic and Hebrew covers a wide variety of meanings. Other words, such as “like”, do not exist in Arabic or in the Bible. So love can simply mean like or approve, or be favorably inclined toward, it can also mean to have good-will toward or to be well disposed toward.

Of course it can also mean love in its truest sense.^[4] The text implies that what we are called to do is a matter of the will. Love, however, is something that flows from the soul and is not of our doing. Love cannot be by command.

        However, to do right by others is within our power. This is what Jesus is calling on us to do in this text. He is not asking us to do something that is humanly impossible. When we feel we have been wronged by someone, a reflexive desire to strike back can well up in our hearts. Acting on that is a matter of will. Jesus is telling us love is the better path rather than hate. We are called to be a redeemer and a builder not a destroyer.

        Remember the story about the woman caught in sin. The crowd gathered with the intent to stone her. Jesus does not scold them or rebuke them or drive them away, he simply asks that the one without sin cast the first stone. No one did. The realization spread through the crowd that we are all sinners. We are one with the very person we despise, we accuse, we condemn, the one our emotions taunt us to hate. But as Pogo says: “we have met the enemy and he is us!”

        So, when the urge to strike back at someone we perceive as a threat, as an enemy in the biblical language, wells up inside us, Jesus is cautioning us to back away from that urge and instead choose the path that can bring reconciliation, as St Paul reminds us. Jesus is challenging us to choose to make the situation better and not worse.

Glory be to Jesus Christ!

---

^[1] Naguib Mahfouz, Akhenaten: Dweller in Truth, Anchor Books, 2000

^[2] See: sisterfidelma.com for details on her and the books

^[3] Abraham Mitrie Rihbany, The Syrian Christ, Houghton Mifflin Company, 1916

^[4] Ibid. pp. 96-106.

October 20, 2019. Is. 43:15-44:5; 1 Cor. 15:20-26; Lk. 4:31-39

As preached by Brother Marc

Holy Wisdom Church


What is the one thing you want to change for yourself?

People in his hometown of Nazareth are amazed at Christ when he announces change but doesn’t cure anyone. He says, “I am bringing not a cure-all but something entirely new. Awake to a new day. This new day will be different and unfamiliar.” They get frustrated and shrug it off. You’re just the guy from down the road, they say to Jesus. This kind of cynic seems to prefer its own old platter of familiar stale food.

In another town in today’s gospel people do hear the echo of authority and ring of truth in the words of Jesus. The devilish spirit in the possessed man there becomes alarmed. Jesus is able to release the man from its destructive influence.

The old rules and taboos Jesus dispels throughout the gospels is not the Old Law of Moses given by God but the frozen human heart scarred by old mistakes and hurts and misunderstandings. Our old unchanging and unredeemed programming from 55-65-75 or 85 years of life are manipulations and dead ends humans have met since Biblical times. These ills and errors of human evolution still possess us and imperil the earth.

This is a deadly miasma that prowls the world, seeps into cells, and invades every homeland. No border will protect our bodies and hearts, because it has seeped into our spirits and stolen our souls. The old darkness has hypnotized us at the shopping malls. Whole walls of RoundUp weed-killer confront us at the big-box stores.

This is an evil, parasitic smog feeding off our energy as if in a horror film. It exerts a devilish control and chaos under the guise of order. It prevents us and our societies from flourishing, growing, creating again, seeking peace, healing and the comfort of good creative work and play.

This possessive feeling and spirit doesn’t want to move, change, get better for real, take the steps and do the work alongside the spirit and example of Jesus.

Can Jesus heal our lame constricted visions, blind grasping for comfort, destitute hearts and opinions, ears deafened by ear buds with canned music. We humans are imprisoned in cells of individualism and certainty, unchangeable as pillars of salt and having it our way.

The ancient poetry we just heard in the Isaiah reading is instead timelessly uplifting.

I will knock down prison bars,

You will cross great waters.

The wild beasts will honor me,

Wild dogs and ostriches

Who find water in the deserts

For my people to drink.

A modern version says to us, “The deserts spring water, the rivers run clear, the soil grows fertile with tilth and clods and earthworms instead of dust and sand and beetles,” as recent documentaries show it.

This poetry mirrors the ecology of our hearts and our relationships. It announces a new ecology of wholeness, growth, nourishment, blossoming, fruitfulness, and seeds of future health.

We may hear this and say like the people of Nazareth probably did, “Oh that is an old dream and naïve.” So our opinions are two-faced. we believe in change for the better but we know things just get worse and worse.

Even while suffering we keep to the evil we know, as preferable to the evil we don’t know. I choose what I feel, even when feeling badly, over what I need. Resist, procrastinate, put off, wait, make a promise: all this equals the influence of the bad spirit.

Jesus is still setting free the future. God’s hope and goodness help us see hopeful events and good memories as signs of great expectations and not fearfulness or discouragement.

What is the one thing you want to change for yourself? If you do not and cannot know and do that, you cannot and will not change anything else in the world. In fact, according to recent studies, things may turn into the opposite of what you intended.

Are we looking to be set free from destructive tendencies and powers we thought beyond change? I make all things new, he says: I restore to better than original blueprints or dna. At first the new is unrecognizable. To be truly new is not just to rejuvenate. Ic’s spirit overcomes every other authority and power including demonic control, confusion and lethargy.

Jesus and Isaiah’s words want to enter our hearts today and open up our thoughts and release our energies. We are not alone but we have to enlist in God’s program. We need to take the first step of what can become a life pilgrimage of daily walks and daily right eating, of daily meditation and pauses and even daily smiles.

At the end of the gospel we heard some good news: Jesus wakes Peter’s mother-in-law from her sickness, and she gets up, and like we might call a deaconess freely serves the holy gathering. How did he do that?

The love of Jesus finally changed her as it had changed Peter.

Talents 10 13 19 Sir 15:11-20, 1Cor 14:6-20, Mt 25:14-30

As preached by Sister Cecelia
Holy Wisdom Church

In this morning’s gospel, much attention is paid to the fellow who did nothing but try to preserve the worth of the one talent given to him. He can be compared to the Pharisees and Sadducees who were the preservers of the law. According to their understanding the law could not be changed one jot or tittle. Any change, any development, any alteration, anything new was to them anathema. That attitude was a paralysis of religious truth. The desire to keep things exactly as they are is not commendable.  God finds no use for a shut mind. Consider how difficult for the Israelites to accept that Jesus message was for the Gentiles as well as for the chosen people. All could receive or choose the repentance that leads to life. God finds no use for a shut mind. Peter and the rest of the disciples were shown that they could eat of the animals they had considered unclean.

 The man who is punished in this parable is the person who did not try. He had not lost the talent but did nothing with it. His shut mind prevented him from trying. A lot of studies have been done and are still ongoing on how to preserve our brains from dementia. Aside from trauma due to accidents or diseases, one thing is clear. If we don’t use the different parts of our brain it atrophies just as our muscles will if we don’t keep moving.  Our brains need to be activated by use. Our brains are one talent we have all received.

Another inference from this parable is that we do not all receive the same gifts. However many we do receive though, we need to use them for the good of others as well as for ourselves.  Speaking in tongues is a gift of God, not to be ignored. This gift is mainly for the benefit of the one speaking in tongues unless that person also has the ability to pass it on to others. None of our gifts make us better or superior to others. They are gifts and we have not done anything to warrant them. They are rather a challenge to progress farther.  The servants were not told to sit back and take life easy. It seems the reward of work well done is to be given greater tasks and responsibilities in the work of the master.

In the reading from Sirach this morning, we are told that when God created humankind he gave us the power of free choice.  If we choose, we can act faithfully in carrying out what we perceive as God’s will for us. We choose between fire and water, between life and death.  Understanding what changes need to be made and what needs to be accepted as is, is a challenge to our intelligence. What kind of things need to be changed?  It takes effort to think about it.

The ancient world in general revered hospitality. The Israelites because of their own sojourn in a foreign land and wandering in the desert were called upon to show compassion and hospitality to strangers and to protect them from harm. The account of Abraham serving the three men who appear at the oaks of Mamre show us unrushed hospitality and the giving of what Abraham had to give.  We know Abraham was rewarded with the promise of a child. While we do for others without hope of a reward, we also know that Jesus has said what we do for others we are doing for Jesus himself. Those include those in need-the hungry, the thirsty and the stranger as well as our friends, family and foe alike.

Hospitality is only one area of choices we make in our own sojourn in life. There are many others. Jane Goodell is supposed to have said:  “What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of a difference you want to make.”

Whatever talent we have been given, little or great, let it be for the service of our God.

 Christ is in our midst!

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