January 24, 2021

 

Homily by Sister Cecelia

Isaiah 6:1-19, 1 Corinthians 15:1-11, Luke 4:16-24

How quickly a person’s mind can change!  When Christ uttered the words that the prophet Isaiah had said, the people of Nazareth were delighted and amazed. When he warned them that a prophet is not accepted in his own town and proceeded to give examples from their history of others than Jews being helped, their delight turned to fury, and they determined to throw Jesus off the nearby cliff.

What was in their minds that would prompt such a response? Yes, Jesus was criticizing his people. Perhaps they understood from his words that he was not going to do all his good works of healing the blind, freeing those in prison, and preaching the good news to the poor, as he had in other locales. But, instead of trying to understand why Jesus had said this, they hardened their hearts even more and determined to kill him.

When we look at our own lives, do we recall any similarities to the Nazarenes’ reaction when we are criticized? There must be reasons why we react sometimes with hurtful defensive anger rather than look at ourselves to see if we could do better. Then, even be thankful someone had the courage or audacity to vocalize their thoughts to us. It takes patience to come to know ourselves. It takes patience to appreciate every easy or difficult step along the way. Perhaps the first steps are easier, then comes the hard, wearying repetition of the process of learning. Learning to know ourselves with both patience and bravery.

The Spirit teaches us if our hearts remain open.

I’m reminded of my early years in the monastery in Indiana. Though we received some teaching, learning to live the gospel in community was done more by example than by words. I learned by the example of others in two ways. Some nuns behaved in what I judged to be very saintly ways, and I tried to make my behavior like theirs. With some others, I judged their behavior to not be what I thought was pleasing to God, so I promised myself I would not be like them. Since then, I have learned that judging others is not the most wholesome approach to life. We do judge or see the exterior behavior of others, but we cannot know what is in their hearts. Taking the attitude that if others don’t do what is expected, then I don’t need to, is not a wholesome approach either.

 Knowing my own values, and living up to them, rather than comparing myself to any other person, is a much better approach. 

An aspect of the good news Jesus was not able to give to the Nazarenes because of their hardness of hearts is exemplified in another parable-the goats and the sheep- of those who will be chosen and those who will not at the end of life. The parable could be shock therapy to get us out of any complacency we might have about our own goodness or despondency about the lack of it. What we do for others, or do not do, is what we are doing to Jesus. The surprise of the people involved in the parable of not knowing when they had done or not done those things to Jesus was they perhaps were thinking too big.  It is good to run the soup kitchen, but it is also good to take a sandwich to your next-door neighbor or to make one for your own hungry child. It is not good to rob a bank, but also not good to swipe a scarf from your friend. To get a glass of water for someone you think could be thirsty is an act of love or is not if you do not do it. It does not have to be big feats that Jesus is commending or terribly wicked things he is condemning. What we do or not do for or against another is what we are doing for our Lord.

Let our own hearts be open so that the Spirit can teach us to know ourselves, so that the Spirit can teach us to know God who is love.

Christ is in our midst!

 

Homily: Theophany

January 06, 2021

As preached by Sister Rebecca
Holy Wisdom Church

            Today we celebrate Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan. Last evening at Great Compline we heard the Gospel where John the Baptist was called by God to proclaim a baptism of repentance. There was something incredibly charismatic about John’s voice in the wilderness that drew people to him in droves.

            Maybe most of those people were filled with an expectation for some kind of change in society. After all, the Jordan was viewed as a national symbol, the memory of God’s leading his people through the Jordan River to the promised land of freedom and prosperity. Instead, they were suffering under the political and economic power of Rome. There was in the air a nostalgia for the past promises of God that led the Israelites from servitude to freedom. Some people, or even many people, thought that John was the awaited-for Messiah or the one who was ushering in this kind of Messiah. And they were even willing to change their ways, but that willingness did not go deep to the roots of inner conversion.

Prior to our Gospel today, we heard that John saw his mission as precursor of the one who was to come, who would baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire: Whose winnowing fan was in his hand…and he would purge his floor and burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire. Earlier, John cried out, “Oh you vipers…now the ax is laid to the root of the trees, and every tree that does not bear good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire.” John had it right—to strive to awaken people to repentance—but he had it wrong as to the way God sees sinners and salvation. People do not really change from their inward being by fear. Yes, one can conform by will power, to avoid punishment, but the inward heart is not touched.

Jesus’ understanding of God’s Spirit is different.

In Luke’s Gospel we learn that when all the people had been baptized, Jesus came to John to be baptized. Only after all the people had shed their sins into the waters did Jesus go into those sullied waters to be baptized. He was in solidarity with all people. Jesus did not see his call in the same way John saw the Messiah. John was even shocked that Jesus was asking to be baptized by him, and he objected. But Jesus insisted. He knew deep down what he needed to do: “Let it be for now in order to fulfill all justice.” All justice? The Old Testament shows us that for humans, justice is bringing order into our temporal lives, but justice for God is compassion; it is understanding the ignorance and brokenness of human beings. And Jesus embodies this Spirit of God—not the mind of John. Jesus allows himself to be plunged down into the waters, and when he rises the heavens open up, and Spirit in the form of a dove alights on him, and a voice is heard: “This is my son, with whom I am well pleased.”

            It is at this moment that Jesus becomes conscious of his deepest identity: the Beloved Son of God. Here and now, God’s eternal time breaks through into chronological time, with Jesus’ realization and consciousness of his deepest identity: “I know by experience that am God’s child and deeply loved.” In the wake of this experience, he knows he has a mission, and his heart burns to perceive God’s direction.

Jesus embodies God’s Spirit: He is to reveal to people who they really are—that all human beings are sons and daughters of God. For him, love is his message. When people experience love, are conscious of being the beloved, of being good, then their lives are changed. When we know we are loved, we desire to act in goodness and kindness, and we find our purpose in life.

We are all at times called to our own “Jordans.” Sometimes life itself throws us into the dark waters of our weaknesses, where we have a sudden awareness of our need for conversion in some area of our lives. Jesus shows us the path: we need to go into those dark areas of our lives and feel our need for God. As the Psalmist says, “I will run in the way of your commandments when you enlarge my heartfelt understanding.”(Psalm 119) This happens when we know we cannot by sheer willpower change our selves, cannot be transformed into who we are called by God to be. The very yearning itself is God’s own desire for us to awaken, to be God-conscious in our own minds. This urgency is all the more essential now, when millions of people are struggling, suffering in this time of the plague of suffering and death. In our present brokenness and darkened world, we can be renewed in the Spirit, who tells us to go out into the darkness with love—not from our own limited self, but from the Spirit here and now, desiring us not only to be beacons of hope and trust in God’s goodness, but to embody God’s very compassion in our daily thoughts and actions.

I’d like to end with a few lines inspired of a favorite author of mine, the German poet Rainier Maria Rilke:

God speaks to each of us as God continues to form us; God walks with us silently out of the night. These are the words we dimly hear:

“You are sent out beyond your recall, beyond what you can remember; go to the limits of your yearning. Embody me. Flare up like a flame. And make big shadows I can move in. Let everything happen to you: beauty and fear. Keep going forward. No feeling is final. Don’t let yourself lose me. Give me your hand.