Sermon 174 Mar 22, 2020 Lk 9:18-27, 1Pt 2: 21b-25, Is 49:1-7 Cross

As preached by Brother Luke

Holy Wisdom Church

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

        A few weeks ago I read a news report that was very disheartening for me. Many of you may have also seen it. It was about Jean Vanier who founded L’Arche, an organization that established communities around the world to care for the disabled. His story was a beautiful one. After serving in the Canadian military, he retired in 1950 and devoted himself to “following Jesus” as he said. He wrote about community life and the spiritual life including a wonderful meditation on the Gospel of John. He died last year at the age of 90. But in February of this year, it was reported that he sexually abused 6 women in the town of Trosly, France, between 1970 and 2005. He apparently learned these ways from his spiritual father Thomas Phillipe [d. 1993], whose own sexual misconduct in the same town was investigated in 2014. Such behavior is particularly distressing when we discover that it was done by someone held in high esteem. Feelings of anger, betrayal, disgust, bewilderment, and dismay inevitably well up in our hearts as we try to process such a revelation.

        Over these weeks of Great Lent I have wrestled with this incident and its broader implications. If we are called to love as God loves, then how does God see this? How do we understand God’s love in light of such behavior? What does the church give us to help us deal with our feelings around this? The Church gives us the cross [show it]. This is not jewelry or a token to show membership in some club. The Cross is the instrument of our salvation which takes us down into the abyss and out again. We die with Christ so that we might live in Christ. These images from our baptism are also the destination of this Lenten Season: Christ’s death on the Cross, burial, and resurrection. 

        This story of real-life encompasses two types of tragedy for those directly involved. The first is the harm done to those 6 women. The extent to which their lives were forever damaged by this experience. The cross for them is the path they seek for healing. The many people: medical professionals, spiritual directors, friends, support groups, and other caregivers, who may be able to help them, are the extension of God’s love for them. Their situation is analogous to what the world is going through now with the COVID-19 pandemic. Lives being turned upside down and death coming to loved ones in ways that seem beyond human power to contain. And yet this tragedy draws from us remarkable examples of selfless giving that mirrors the love of God. This is putting on the cross of Christ.

        The other tragedy is Jean Vanier who died before these revelations were made known. He escaped the opprobrium that would have come his way in life, but he also lost the chance to come to terms with what he had done and make amends to those he harmed. And now his reputation will be forever damaged by his personal failings. All the good he did is tarnished. But not necessarily in God’s eyes.

        Does God still love Jean Vanier and the good he stood for, and can I also? The cross has taken us down into the abyss. How do we get out of that abyss? Another Gospel lesson may help here. The woman caught in sin. We need to be careful about this story. The danger is to focus on the particular sin and forget that her sin is only a symbol of all our sins. After the confrontation with her accusers, Jesus asks her to look around to see if anyone has condemned her. He tells her to notice that those who had condemned her ultimately left the scene realizing that they too had sinned.  Jesus says to her that he does not condemn her nor did any of those who had brought her to him. So, he tells her to go and sin no more. 

        Jesus message to us is that God is not interested in condemnation but rather in healing and forgiveness. Isn’t that a primary message of Lent, this year and every year? Repent then go and sin no more. It is not about condemnation. It is also not about denial. Jesus didn’t say that she had not sinned, he did not condone her actions. He said she was forgiven. This is the same for Jean Vanier and indeed all of us. There is no denial of the sin nor diminishment of the hurtful consequences of it. Rather, God wants us to learn, to grow and to heal in order to lead a better life. As I heard from an Orthodox clergyman in Europe 50 years ago: “If God can forgive, how can we do any less?” Make that our cross.

Glory be to Jesus Christ!

Homily March 15, 2020 Gospel: Mark 5:25-34

As preached by Sister Rebecca 
Holy Wisdom Church

This morning I would like to reflect with you on the Gospel story of the woman who had endured a flow of blood for 12 years.  This woman is nameless.  Perhaps the evangelists—all three of the synoptics—purposely left her nameless? Does she represent a part of ourselves? I invite us to ponder, to imagine what it feels like to be considered by others as unclean, isolated, penniless, ostracized. 

This woman was condemned by religious law as unclean. She had to be ostracized.  Everything she touched became unclean. She was responsible not to contaminate others. 

            We learn that she approached Jesus “in fear and trembling.”  She hoped nobody would notice her.  She could not help but be aware that in touching the hem of Jesus’ garment she made him unclean.  She internalized the condemnation of her society and her religion: she had been socialized to think of herself as dirty, soiled, filthy.

Socialization is such a strong force in our lives.  Even if we know differently, intellectually, we often act the way we have been socialized.  How so? Society has rules or customs that are considered “normal.”  If we think differently, we are deviants, we are abnormal, inadequate.  We are deemed inferior.

This woman, stripped of any kind of support, acted against this false identity.  What gave her the courage to act differently? Besides feeling desperate because of the failure of her doctors to heal her, and being financially ruined? That would certainly push most of us to go against the grain.  But what really gave HER courage was that she had not given up.  She believed in herself enough to struggle. That is what pushed her on to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment.  This struggle emerged from a deep recognition of her own power.  She would no longer wait for others to fix her life.  She refused to identify herself with the demeaning circumstances of her life.  Deep within she knew: “If I but touch his garment, I will be made well.”  She intuited that Jesus offered a life that was “unleakable”—one that could never be drained from her.  By embracing her own “power-touch,” like a magnet, her own power called forth Jesus’ power. And Jesus said, “Power has gone forth from me.”  When she touched his hem, she was transfused with the power of God.  No longer did life leak out from her, but life flowed into her.

There is still more to this story.  It begins with her being nameless.  But Jesus is not about to leave her drift off in anonymity. He wants to establish a connection, a relationship with her. Jesus names her “Daughter.”  She now has a personal identity, a place, a sense of who she really is. Daughter? Of who?  She is God’s daughter.  This naming is so vitally important:  Jesus’ life of ministry, his own sense of empowerment of who he really is, happened, at the Jordan when he descended into the deep dark waters. In rising he heard the words that changed his own personal identity, his life’s purpose: “You are my Son, my Beloved.” 

In her encounter with Jesus, as this woman is healed, she too experiences wholeness of being: Beloved Daughter of God.  Jesus transmits this enlightened transformation of consciousness not only to this woman but to us. We see it throughout the Gospels, in countless beings ever since, and even at certain moments in our lives.

            To realize this belonging is a true homecoming, a consciousness of total unconditional acceptance of the person I really am.   From this space, as we see in this woman, who rises from a dark, deadened image of herself, we too, today, can join her in embracing our innermost freedom and go in peace.

Surely everyone here has moments of feeling hopeless, tired, and weak, as though our life has a hole in it. Do we feel drained, like a bucket with a hole at the bottom: empty, with nothing that can fill it?  Do we experience at times—we ourselves or for those we care about—a sense of being drained of life? 

            During this time of national—even worldwide—lockdown, when we are suddenly invited to isolate ourselves physically and socially from those outside our homes, are we called to take this time to go inward, find our innermost God-given power to embrace this present condition, not as isolation but in a deeper level of our hearts, to commune with the whole human race with our trust in God, to be creative, to go beyond our personal selves to seeking the wellbeing of others, especially those whose lives are more drastically altered and threatened.

            Whenever we live in times that threaten to make us feel drained of life, may we touch the hem of Jesus’ mantle in this spirit: “I need you now!” May Jesus’ power transfuse us with his life, his love, and his power.  God cannot resist those words: “Oh my God! Help me.”

Forgiveness Sunday 2020

As preached by Brother Marc

Holy Wisdom Church

Frederick the Great the King of Prussia was the one who joked that, “A crown is only a hat that lets in the rain. He also wisely realized that “Every person has a wild beast inside them.” He quipped, “The more I get to know people the more I love my dog.”

Some days we might say, “People really are strange, aggravating, unpredictable and hurtful. They don’t understand. They ignore, manipulate, and blame. The writer Annie Dillard, from Pittsburgh, noticed, “In the deeps [of us all] are the violence and terror of which psychology has warned us. Yet our complex and inexplicable caring for each other and our life together…is given. It is not learned.”

The priest Ronald Rollheiser, from Austin, says in a similar way, “Biblical revelation refuses to deny the dark side of things, but forgives failure and heals our falling... The Gospel says we can survive and will even grow from the tragedy of life.”

Jesus lived, died and rose with a tragic sense of life. He was never upset with so-called “sinners,” only with people who do not think they are sinners! He shows us a higher order that is healing and renewing inside the world’s constant disorder.

Whenever we uncover “our complex and inexplicable caring for each other,” or what Buddhists call the Great Compassion, we find integrity and peace in spite of life’s inconsistencies and contradictions.

Paul says this love in our relationships: “…always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres” (1 Corinthians 13:7).

Our relationships often have the potential to hurt us in small ongoing ways. We brush these hurts aside, trying to be good people, thinking "I am not a vindictive or overly sensitive person; these things shouldn't bother me." But they do bother, because our egos are like magnets, and that attract resentments. We choose to forgive another, but still in our heart of hearts, the anger and hurts linger.

Forgiveness is often seen as permissiveness for letting a transgressor engage in hurtful conduct. Instead, we may be able to say or do something helpful. Psychologist Joan Borysenko said, "You can forgive someone who wronged you [seriously] and still call the police and testify in court."

Forgiveness is a teachable and attainable character strength and process also associated with improved health and longevity. Although at times this may seem implausible, it is in fact possible to forgive and become less encumbered by hurts or scars. We can choose to do the hard work and vigilance to change our vengeful, grudge-bearing impulses and to express our anger in beneficial ways to ourselves and others.

We might become conscious of not only of the harm done to ourselves but the harm we have done to ourselves and to others. We are aware of harm to the earth’s environment and transgressions against the love of God. Time, suffering and reflection help us see into the depths of this darkness. So often we may feel a great sadness with this awareness.

Yet Harvard researcher and physician George Vaillant describes forgiveness as one of the eight positive emotions that define spirituality and keep us connected with our deepest selves and with others.

When we consider that pain and struggle form the deepest contour of each human face, seeing it not just in famous photographs but present in someone in our own life can give birth to forgiveness toward them. We might also find gentle compassion for ourselves for landing in painful situations.

The forgiveness we truly need goes beyond forgiving this or that transgression. We pray with and for each other, “Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.”

Caring may be a gift, as Annie Dillard wrote, but being hurt or wounded can become our invitation to a transformative new path and a more fulfilling life.

Create in me a clean heart, as King David prayed in Psalm 51:10.

This Sunday is really a feast of forgiveness. In some small ways we need to celebrate this as the end of an era in our lives and the beginning of a new phase of life.