7 March 2010 – Lent 3C * Exodus 3:1-15/Luke 13:1-9
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, Saint Peter’s at Ellicott Mills, Maryland
Sin, Repentance and Grace
When the God who declares from a burning bush, “I AM who I AM….tell them I AM sent you!’ becomes flesh and dwells among us, life gets very interesting. Pilate slaughters a group of Galileans. A tower in Siloam kills eighteen others. Do you think they are worse sinners than anyone else, asks The Word made Flesh?
It is still a common perception. Look at the lunatic suggestions of Pat Robertson regarding the earthquake victims in Haiti! We think of this kind of Blame Game as some kind of ancient mindset, but we may as well admit that we all get into it at one time or another.
Jesus, as I AM made flesh, can hardly believe people think this way. After all as God Almighty, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, had he not made it perfectly clear: for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous (Jonah 4:2, Exodus 34:6, Numbers 14:18, Joel 2:13, Matthew 5:45).
Jesus announces in effect, “The sin is found in those who think the sin is found in those who have misfortune fall on them.” [Timothy Shapiro, New Proclamation, Fortress Press, Minneapolis:2006 – p.199] What separates us from God, then, is our sense of justice, not God’s sense of Justice.
So Jesus says to repent of this kind of thinking, turn away from the Blame Game altogether, and show some mercy, the kind of mercy God aka I AM likes to show for everyone, everywhere (Note: Please re-read the Book of Jonah).
To repent means to turn around or turn back. The idea is that we are walking with God, or walking with Jesus, and then suddenly we find ourselves distracted by say the 3,000 commercial messages that bombard us each day. Or, some personal crisis. Or, the day to day cycle of dropping kids off, picking them up, driving them somewhere else, picking them up again. Or, the boss just gave us two weeks notice. And on and on it goes. We find ourselves walking in circles at best, rather than walking with or at least toward God.
To repent means to come to our right mind about the way in which we are walking and to turn, or re-turn, to walking in the Way with Jesus, the Great I AM in the flesh. Or, get crushed by the weight of your sin. Notice, by the way, it is always our choice – we can walk with God or be crushed by the weight of our sin. Repentance seems, all in all, a very good idea for all of us.
Included in all that is the Grace God shows for all people, at all times, everywhere – especially when we choose to Repent! (Note: Read Jonah one more time!)
Then comes this enigmatic little agricultural metaphor or parable just dripping with Judgment and Grace. It seems there is a joke in the Greek. The word for manure is in fact not so refined – it is street slang, or what we in some more innocent era called a swear word.
So think of the harshest possible word for manure, and imagine the gardener – read tenant farmer – saying it to the wealthy absentee landowner, followed by “and if in a year you are still not happy YOU cut it down”! There would be serious snickering among the tenant farmers and servants in the crowd who only dreamed of ever shooting back at their superiors in such a fashion.
And what the story seeks to convey in part is that the absentee owner does not get his hands dirty, knows little of how to tend fig trees, and is trying to tell someone who knows the tree, the soil and the kind of care necessary how to do his or her job.
On the other hand, perhaps what the landlord is getting at is that the gardener has not been doing her job of caring for the tree – perhaps, oh I don’t know, the way we have not been particularly good at caring for God’s creation.
And it is the gardener who introduces the notion of Grace – “Sir, let it alone.” Don’t blame the tree, don’t order me to cut it down – give it another chance; give me another chance! Give it a moment of Amazing Grace. Give it a chance and it will bear fruit in its own time. The problem being God in Christ wants it on God’s time, not ours!
When we are finished laughing do we get that we are the Landowner blaming the tree for its lack of fruitfulness? Or, we are the gardener who has slacked off on our God given responsibility to care for God’s tree, whatever that may represent: creation, the poor, widows, resident aliens, etc.? And that we are the tree, standing in need of God’s Amazing Grace?
God only knows every day we wake up and get out of bed God is bestowing upon us a great deal of Amazing Grace whether we deserve it or not. Another way to put this, we are all, at the end of the day, complicit through what we do or don’t do to contribute to the misery of others and the devastation of the very planet God created and calls “good” – and not just good but, “very good.” (Genesis 1:31)
Let those who have ears hear: we are called to bear fruit, fruit that will last (John 15:16) – or be chopped down and become so much firewood.
Lent is a season that means to remind us that we are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under God’s table. But it is God’s primary attribute to have mercy upon us as long as we keep on repenting of our various sins, most especially it seems the sin of playing The Blame Game. The Good News is that God does not want to blame us, God wants to save us and so came to live among us as one of us to teach us about Sin, Repentance and Grace – so it is that the Great I AM becomes flesh and dwells among us to this day!
The Best News is there is time to accept God’s Amazing Grace, Repent and Sin no more before he begins to chop down our trees!
Walk with Jesus wherever you may be
Turn turn turn turn again
May he find good fruit growing on your tree
Turn turn turn to the Son and the rain
Even now my axe is set to your tree
Turn turn turn turn again
Turn back to me and set yourself free
Turn turn turn to the Son and the rain
Amen.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
We Are The Wings of God
28 February 2010/Lent 2C
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek
We Are The Wings Of God
The last time I preached on these lessons at Good Shepherd, I noted the following:
1- How against type that the Pharisees are warning Jesus to go into hiding from Herod.
2- Jesus calls Herod a fox, which is a cutting insult since foxes were considered inferior hunters next to Lions – the symbol of Judah – The Lion of Judah.
3- And by contrast Jesus likens God [Jesus- the Word] to a mother hen.
Thus, I no doubt concluded, here is one of the Bible’s many female images of God. At the time we were struggling as a church to accept women as priests let alone female images of God, yet there it is in the Bible from the mouth of Jesus.
This image cuts two ways. We are God’s chicks. Ever see a mother hen try to get all of her chicks under her wings? As soon as one gets in two more squirt out! The agrarian crowd listening to Jesus would get the humor in all this.
But, and with Jesus there is always a big but, in Lent we are meant to consider how often we, as God’s chicks, squirm out from under God’s protecting wings and try to live on our own. Lent is a time to make our way back under God’s wings.
On the other hand, taking the rubric on page 298 in the Book of Common Prayer at all seriously, by Water and the Holy Spirit we are incorporated into the Body of Christ, the Church. That would make us the Mother Hen for others in today’s world.
So the first time I preached on these lessons at St. Peter’s, I was preparing a children’s sermon. I wanted a song to teach the kids, but could find no song about God as a mother hen. So necessity being the mother of invention, I wrote one: I AM the Wings of God.
Note how it begins with God’s name from the burning bush: I AM who I AM. Then the second verse acknowledges our identity with the Word of God, Jesus his Son. The third attempts to remind us that eternal life with God is now – not some future time, but as the Buddha teaches us, it is always now – eternity is now. By extending God’s protection to others, we participate in God’s eternal glory, which as we pray in our collect today, is to have mercy.
Shortly after leaving Good Shepherd I came to a similar awareness of a baptism I did before coming here. I was at Christ Church, Winnetka. I baptized a five year-old girl, Eleanor, and her mother. At brunch afterwards, I was eating quiche and drinking a glass of wine when I felt a tug on my pants leg. It was Eleanor with a question, “Can you still see the cross on my forehead?” Meaning, of course, the cross traced with oil sealing her as Christ’s own forever. It is also a sign of her answers to five important questions, including: Will all that you say and all that you do proclaim the good news of God in Christ? Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons – not some people, or lots of people or a few people, but all persons? And will you seek justice and peace for all persons respecting the dignity of every human being? “I will with God’s help,” she had answered to all of them!
I said “Yes, Eleanor, I can still see the cross on your forehead.” And I remember thinking, “That’s a good question for all of us. Can others see the crosses on our foreheads?” A cross we just had retraced on Ash Wednesday, a ritual we repeat every year to remember who we are and whose we are. A week later as I was vesting there was a tug on my alb. It was Eleanor again. I asked her what it was this week. She asked, “Can you still see the cross on my forehead?” It would be years later before I would write this song: Can You See The Cross on My Forehead?
By the way, Eleanor is getting married later this year!
My understanding of the Good News of Jesus Christ hinges on that rubric back on page 298 in the Prayer Book, and the opening story in Jesus’ adult life – his baptism by John in the River Jordan. As he comes up out of the water, the Holy Spirit descends upon him like a dove – not a dove, but “like a dove” – and a voice from heaven announces, “You are my Beloved, with you I am well pleased.”
If by baptism we are incorporated into the Body of Christ, when we come up out of the waters of baptism there is a voice that says to us, “You are my Beloved – with you I am well pleased.”
Accepting that as the truth about who we are and whose we are, is one step into getting back under God’s wings and becoming the protective wings of God for others. Know that you are God’s Beloved.
Paul says this to the church in Philippi, “He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his Glory… stand firm in the Lord in this way, my Beloved.”
There it is again. God in Christ says to us, “You are my Beloved. I am well pleased with you.”
You are the Wings of God.
Can you see the cross on my forehead?
You are God’s Beloved. God is well pleased with you.
Life lived with God, under her wings, never ends!
Amen.
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek
We Are The Wings Of God
The last time I preached on these lessons at Good Shepherd, I noted the following:
1- How against type that the Pharisees are warning Jesus to go into hiding from Herod.
2- Jesus calls Herod a fox, which is a cutting insult since foxes were considered inferior hunters next to Lions – the symbol of Judah – The Lion of Judah.
3- And by contrast Jesus likens God [Jesus- the Word] to a mother hen.
Thus, I no doubt concluded, here is one of the Bible’s many female images of God. At the time we were struggling as a church to accept women as priests let alone female images of God, yet there it is in the Bible from the mouth of Jesus.
This image cuts two ways. We are God’s chicks. Ever see a mother hen try to get all of her chicks under her wings? As soon as one gets in two more squirt out! The agrarian crowd listening to Jesus would get the humor in all this.
But, and with Jesus there is always a big but, in Lent we are meant to consider how often we, as God’s chicks, squirm out from under God’s protecting wings and try to live on our own. Lent is a time to make our way back under God’s wings.
On the other hand, taking the rubric on page 298 in the Book of Common Prayer at all seriously, by Water and the Holy Spirit we are incorporated into the Body of Christ, the Church. That would make us the Mother Hen for others in today’s world.
So the first time I preached on these lessons at St. Peter’s, I was preparing a children’s sermon. I wanted a song to teach the kids, but could find no song about God as a mother hen. So necessity being the mother of invention, I wrote one: I AM the Wings of God.
Note how it begins with God’s name from the burning bush: I AM who I AM. Then the second verse acknowledges our identity with the Word of God, Jesus his Son. The third attempts to remind us that eternal life with God is now – not some future time, but as the Buddha teaches us, it is always now – eternity is now. By extending God’s protection to others, we participate in God’s eternal glory, which as we pray in our collect today, is to have mercy.
Shortly after leaving Good Shepherd I came to a similar awareness of a baptism I did before coming here. I was at Christ Church, Winnetka. I baptized a five year-old girl, Eleanor, and her mother. At brunch afterwards, I was eating quiche and drinking a glass of wine when I felt a tug on my pants leg. It was Eleanor with a question, “Can you still see the cross on my forehead?” Meaning, of course, the cross traced with oil sealing her as Christ’s own forever. It is also a sign of her answers to five important questions, including: Will all that you say and all that you do proclaim the good news of God in Christ? Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons – not some people, or lots of people or a few people, but all persons? And will you seek justice and peace for all persons respecting the dignity of every human being? “I will with God’s help,” she had answered to all of them!
I said “Yes, Eleanor, I can still see the cross on your forehead.” And I remember thinking, “That’s a good question for all of us. Can others see the crosses on our foreheads?” A cross we just had retraced on Ash Wednesday, a ritual we repeat every year to remember who we are and whose we are. A week later as I was vesting there was a tug on my alb. It was Eleanor again. I asked her what it was this week. She asked, “Can you still see the cross on my forehead?” It would be years later before I would write this song: Can You See The Cross on My Forehead?
By the way, Eleanor is getting married later this year!
My understanding of the Good News of Jesus Christ hinges on that rubric back on page 298 in the Prayer Book, and the opening story in Jesus’ adult life – his baptism by John in the River Jordan. As he comes up out of the water, the Holy Spirit descends upon him like a dove – not a dove, but “like a dove” – and a voice from heaven announces, “You are my Beloved, with you I am well pleased.”
If by baptism we are incorporated into the Body of Christ, when we come up out of the waters of baptism there is a voice that says to us, “You are my Beloved – with you I am well pleased.”
Accepting that as the truth about who we are and whose we are, is one step into getting back under God’s wings and becoming the protective wings of God for others. Know that you are God’s Beloved.
Paul says this to the church in Philippi, “He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his Glory… stand firm in the Lord in this way, my Beloved.”
There it is again. God in Christ says to us, “You are my Beloved. I am well pleased with you.”
You are the Wings of God.
Can you see the cross on my forehead?
You are God’s Beloved. God is well pleased with you.
Life lived with God, under her wings, never ends!
Amen.
We Are The Wings of God
28 February 2010/Lent 2C
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek
We Are The Wings Of God
The last time I preached on these lessons at Good Shepherd, I noted the following:
1- How against type that the Pharisees are warning Jesus to go into hiding from Herod.
2- Jesus calls Herod a fox, which is a cutting insult since foxes were considered inferior hunters next to Lions – the symbol of Judah – The Lion of Judah.
3- And by contrast Jesus likens God [Jesus- the Word] to a mother hen.
Thus, I no doubt concluded, here is one of the Bible’s many female images of God. At the time we were struggling as a church to accept women as priests let alone female images of God, yet there it is in the Bible from the mouth of Jesus.
This image cuts two ways. We are God’s chicks. Ever see a mother hen try to get all of her chicks under her wings? As soon as one gets in two more squirt out! The agrarian crowd listening to Jesus would get the humor in all this.
But, and with Jesus there is always a big but, in Lent we are meant to consider how often we, as God’s chicks, squirm out from under God’s protecting wings and try to live on our own. Lent is a time to make our way back under God’s wings.
On the other hand, taking the rubric on page 298 in the Book of Common Prayer at all seriously, by Water and the Holy Spirit we are incorporated into the Body of Christ, the Church. That would make us the Mother Hen for others in today’s world.
So the first time I preached on these lessons at St. Peter’s, I was preparing a children’s sermon. I wanted a song to teach the kids, but could find no song about God as a mother hen. So necessity being the mother of invention, I wrote one: I AM the Wings of God.
Note how it begins with God’s name from the burning bush: I AM who I AM. Then the second verse acknowledges our identity with the Word of God, Jesus his Son. The third attempts to remind us that eternal life with God is now – not some future time, but as the Buddha teaches us, it is always now – eternity is now. By extending God’s protection to others, we participate in God’s eternal glory, which as we pray in our collect today, is to have mercy.
Shortly after leaving Good Shepherd I came to a similar awareness of a baptism I did before coming here. I was at Christ Church, Winnetka. I baptized a five year-old girl, Eleanor, and her mother. At brunch afterwards, I was eating quiche and drinking a glass of wine when I felt a tug on my pants leg. It was Eleanor with a question, “Can you still see the cross on my forehead?” Meaning, of course, the cross traced with oil sealing her as Christ’s own forever. It is also a sign of her answers to five important questions, including: Will all that you say and all that you do proclaim the good news of God in Christ? Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons – not some people, or lots of people or a few people, but all persons? And will you seek justice and peace for all persons respecting the dignity of every human being? “I will with God’s help,” she had answered to all of them!
I said “Yes, Eleanor, I can still see the cross on your forehead.” And I remember thinking, “That’s a good question for all of us. Can others see the crosses on our foreheads?” A cross we just had retraced on Ash Wednesday, a ritual we repeat every year to remember who we are and whose we are. A week later as I was vesting there was a tug on my alb. It was Eleanor again. I asked her what it was this week. She asked, “Can you still see the cross on my forehead?” It would be years later before I would write this song: Can You See The Cross on My Forehead?
By the way, Eleanor is getting married later this year!
My understanding of the Good News of Jesus Christ hinges on that rubric back on page 298 in the Prayer Book, and the opening story in Jesus’ adult life – his baptism by John in the River Jordan. As he comes up out of the water, the Holy Spirit descends upon him like a dove – not a dove, but “like a dove” – and a voice from heaven announces, “You are my Beloved, with you I am well pleased.”
If by baptism we are incorporated into the Body of Christ, when we come up out of the waters of baptism there is a voice that says to us, “You are my Beloved – with you I am well pleased.”
Accepting that as the truth about who we are and whose we are, is one step into getting back under God’s wings and becoming the protective wings of God for others. Know that you are God’s Beloved.
Paul says this to the church in Philippi, “He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his Glory… stand firm in the Lord in this way, my Beloved.”
There it is again. God in Christ says to us, “You are my Beloved. I am well pleased with you.”
You are the Wings of God.
Can you see the cross on my forehead?
You are God’s Beloved. God is well pleased with you.
Life lived with God, under her wings, never ends!
Amen.
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek
We Are The Wings Of God
The last time I preached on these lessons at Good Shepherd, I noted the following:
1- How against type that the Pharisees are warning Jesus to go into hiding from Herod.
2- Jesus calls Herod a fox, which is a cutting insult since foxes were considered inferior hunters next to Lions – the symbol of Judah – The Lion of Judah.
3- And by contrast Jesus likens God [Jesus- the Word] to a mother hen.
Thus, I no doubt concluded, here is one of the Bible’s many female images of God. At the time we were struggling as a church to accept women as priests let alone female images of God, yet there it is in the Bible from the mouth of Jesus.
This image cuts two ways. We are God’s chicks. Ever see a mother hen try to get all of her chicks under her wings? As soon as one gets in two more squirt out! The agrarian crowd listening to Jesus would get the humor in all this.
But, and with Jesus there is always a big but, in Lent we are meant to consider how often we, as God’s chicks, squirm out from under God’s protecting wings and try to live on our own. Lent is a time to make our way back under God’s wings.
On the other hand, taking the rubric on page 298 in the Book of Common Prayer at all seriously, by Water and the Holy Spirit we are incorporated into the Body of Christ, the Church. That would make us the Mother Hen for others in today’s world.
So the first time I preached on these lessons at St. Peter’s, I was preparing a children’s sermon. I wanted a song to teach the kids, but could find no song about God as a mother hen. So necessity being the mother of invention, I wrote one: I AM the Wings of God.
Note how it begins with God’s name from the burning bush: I AM who I AM. Then the second verse acknowledges our identity with the Word of God, Jesus his Son. The third attempts to remind us that eternal life with God is now – not some future time, but as the Buddha teaches us, it is always now – eternity is now. By extending God’s protection to others, we participate in God’s eternal glory, which as we pray in our collect today, is to have mercy.
Shortly after leaving Good Shepherd I came to a similar awareness of a baptism I did before coming here. I was at Christ Church, Winnetka. I baptized a five year-old girl, Eleanor, and her mother. At brunch afterwards, I was eating quiche and drinking a glass of wine when I felt a tug on my pants leg. It was Eleanor with a question, “Can you still see the cross on my forehead?” Meaning, of course, the cross traced with oil sealing her as Christ’s own forever. It is also a sign of her answers to five important questions, including: Will all that you say and all that you do proclaim the good news of God in Christ? Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons – not some people, or lots of people or a few people, but all persons? And will you seek justice and peace for all persons respecting the dignity of every human being? “I will with God’s help,” she had answered to all of them!
I said “Yes, Eleanor, I can still see the cross on your forehead.” And I remember thinking, “That’s a good question for all of us. Can others see the crosses on our foreheads?” A cross we just had retraced on Ash Wednesday, a ritual we repeat every year to remember who we are and whose we are. A week later as I was vesting there was a tug on my alb. It was Eleanor again. I asked her what it was this week. She asked, “Can you still see the cross on my forehead?” It would be years later before I would write this song: Can You See The Cross on My Forehead?
By the way, Eleanor is getting married later this year!
My understanding of the Good News of Jesus Christ hinges on that rubric back on page 298 in the Prayer Book, and the opening story in Jesus’ adult life – his baptism by John in the River Jordan. As he comes up out of the water, the Holy Spirit descends upon him like a dove – not a dove, but “like a dove” – and a voice from heaven announces, “You are my Beloved, with you I am well pleased.”
If by baptism we are incorporated into the Body of Christ, when we come up out of the waters of baptism there is a voice that says to us, “You are my Beloved – with you I am well pleased.”
Accepting that as the truth about who we are and whose we are, is one step into getting back under God’s wings and becoming the protective wings of God for others. Know that you are God’s Beloved.
Paul says this to the church in Philippi, “He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his Glory… stand firm in the Lord in this way, my Beloved.”
There it is again. God in Christ says to us, “You are my Beloved. I am well pleased with you.”
You are the Wings of God.
Can you see the cross on my forehead?
You are God’s Beloved. God is well pleased with you.
Life lived with God, under her wings, never ends!
Amen.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Heading For The Light
14 February 2010/Last Epiphany – Luke 9:28-36
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, Saint Peter’s at Ellicott Mills, Maryland
Heading For The Light
Back at the beginning of the Epiphany Season we looked at the Baptismal Font – that eight-sided font, one side for each day of the week plus one to signify that place where we are given new life, a new day, a new way.
And as we look into that font we see stories, ancient stories of our faith. We see the breath, spirit and wind of God, God’s ruach, hovering over the face of creation. We see that same spirit dividing the Red Sea waters so that the Hebrew slaves can escape Egypt to a land of freedom – The Exodus and Passover! And we see that same ruach, that same spirit of God some to rest on Jesus like a dove as a voice from heaven proclaims, “You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased.”
The water in the font tells us these stories - stories that must never be forgotten. To forget these stories is to forget who we are. Look into the water and see all these things.
That was the beginning of Epiphany. Now it is the Last Sunday after The Epiphany, and we are on a mountain top where Jesus takes three of his friends off alone and goes to pray, just as he was doing when the voice from heaven called him God’s Beloved at his Baptism. Suddenly, Moses and Elijah are talking with him about his Exodus, translated “departure”. Jesus and his clothes are dazzling white – brighter than any light one had ever seen!
When it says they are speaking of Jesus’ “departure” the Greek word is “exodos”. And when Peter wants to build booths, it is suggestive of the Feast of the Tabernacles, a time every year when the Jewish people recall the wilderness sojourn of the Exodus. A cloud comes over the mountain recalling the pillar of cloud that led them for forty years, the cloud that enshrouded the top of Mt Sinai as God delivered the Ten Commandments to Moses for the people – the basis of their covenant relationship with the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
Then the voice returns. The voice we heard at Jesus’ baptism in the River Jordan – reiterating, “This is my son, my Chosen; Listen to Him!”
After the voice had spoken, Jesus was alone, and Peter and James and John kept silent, telling no one what they had seen or heard that day. But if there were any doubt in their minds as to who this Jesus was, it had now been made clear: God’s Chosen, God’s Beloved – Listen to him.
For any of us who wish to listen to him, we would do well to consider several things. To listen to Jesus, to really truly listen to him we need to allow him to lead us off to a place away from others. This revelation does not take place in a crowd, at the synagogue, or by the sea with lots of other people. If we are to hear God speak, we must be silent.
Secondly, once we see and hear the vision God reveals to us, we cannot stay. No time to set up booths. No time to stay in the midst of the cloud on top of the mountain. One must return to the chaos and confusion of life at the bottom of the mountain – that is where we are sent to do the things he calls us to do.
And finally what he call us to do is to be Light for the World. Note how the “You are my beloved” has changed into “This is my son, my Chosen …” Why the change? Perhaps the clue lies in his dazzling whiteness! Perhaps it is a reference to Isaiah chapter 42:
“Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my spirit upon him;
5Thus says God, the Lord, .. who spread out the earth,
who gives breath to the people upon it
and spirit to those who walk in it…
I have given you as a covenant to the people,*
a light to the nations,
7 to open the eyes that are blind,
to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,
from the prison those who sit in darkness.”
This is what the aged Simeon had said to his mother Mary as she brought her baby boy to be presented at the temple, proclaiming this baby to be “a light to enlighten the nations (gentiles), for the glory of your people Israel.” (Lk 2:32)
Luke is telling us that this Jesus is God’s chosen servant, God’s Chosen in whom God’s soul delights – with whom he is well pleased. This Jesus is a covenant to the people, and a light to the nations. And just as Jesus announced in his first sermon in his hometown synagogue, he will open the eyes that are blind, free prisoners, and bring out those who sit in darkness. That is, he is the Beloved, the Chosen servant to lead us in a new Exodus.
So it is we say, Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us!
In our Baptism, we are incorporated into the Body of Christ, that mystical body, the Church. We are to be a covenant to the people. We are to be a light to the nations. We are to open eyes that are blind and free those who are bound up, those who sit in darkness. That would include ourselves – we are to let Christ open our eyes and head to the light.
Jesus’ Transfiguration is to lead us to our transfiguration. Our transfiguration is to lead to the transfiguration of the whole world – the whole world God has in God’s hands.
We did not come to Jesus. We are his chosen, his Beloved, his Light, “a light to enlighten the nations (gentiles), for the glory of your people Israel.”
Allow him to take you to a place apart from all the chaos and confusion of this world. Pray with him. See and hear his vision. Be transfigured so that you can be a light to the world! Amen.
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, Saint Peter’s at Ellicott Mills, Maryland
Heading For The Light
Back at the beginning of the Epiphany Season we looked at the Baptismal Font – that eight-sided font, one side for each day of the week plus one to signify that place where we are given new life, a new day, a new way.
And as we look into that font we see stories, ancient stories of our faith. We see the breath, spirit and wind of God, God’s ruach, hovering over the face of creation. We see that same spirit dividing the Red Sea waters so that the Hebrew slaves can escape Egypt to a land of freedom – The Exodus and Passover! And we see that same ruach, that same spirit of God some to rest on Jesus like a dove as a voice from heaven proclaims, “You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased.”
The water in the font tells us these stories - stories that must never be forgotten. To forget these stories is to forget who we are. Look into the water and see all these things.
That was the beginning of Epiphany. Now it is the Last Sunday after The Epiphany, and we are on a mountain top where Jesus takes three of his friends off alone and goes to pray, just as he was doing when the voice from heaven called him God’s Beloved at his Baptism. Suddenly, Moses and Elijah are talking with him about his Exodus, translated “departure”. Jesus and his clothes are dazzling white – brighter than any light one had ever seen!
When it says they are speaking of Jesus’ “departure” the Greek word is “exodos”. And when Peter wants to build booths, it is suggestive of the Feast of the Tabernacles, a time every year when the Jewish people recall the wilderness sojourn of the Exodus. A cloud comes over the mountain recalling the pillar of cloud that led them for forty years, the cloud that enshrouded the top of Mt Sinai as God delivered the Ten Commandments to Moses for the people – the basis of their covenant relationship with the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
Then the voice returns. The voice we heard at Jesus’ baptism in the River Jordan – reiterating, “This is my son, my Chosen; Listen to Him!”
After the voice had spoken, Jesus was alone, and Peter and James and John kept silent, telling no one what they had seen or heard that day. But if there were any doubt in their minds as to who this Jesus was, it had now been made clear: God’s Chosen, God’s Beloved – Listen to him.
For any of us who wish to listen to him, we would do well to consider several things. To listen to Jesus, to really truly listen to him we need to allow him to lead us off to a place away from others. This revelation does not take place in a crowd, at the synagogue, or by the sea with lots of other people. If we are to hear God speak, we must be silent.
Secondly, once we see and hear the vision God reveals to us, we cannot stay. No time to set up booths. No time to stay in the midst of the cloud on top of the mountain. One must return to the chaos and confusion of life at the bottom of the mountain – that is where we are sent to do the things he calls us to do.
And finally what he call us to do is to be Light for the World. Note how the “You are my beloved” has changed into “This is my son, my Chosen …” Why the change? Perhaps the clue lies in his dazzling whiteness! Perhaps it is a reference to Isaiah chapter 42:
“Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my spirit upon him;
5Thus says God, the Lord, .. who spread out the earth,
who gives breath to the people upon it
and spirit to those who walk in it…
I have given you as a covenant to the people,*
a light to the nations,
7 to open the eyes that are blind,
to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,
from the prison those who sit in darkness.”
This is what the aged Simeon had said to his mother Mary as she brought her baby boy to be presented at the temple, proclaiming this baby to be “a light to enlighten the nations (gentiles), for the glory of your people Israel.” (Lk 2:32)
Luke is telling us that this Jesus is God’s chosen servant, God’s Chosen in whom God’s soul delights – with whom he is well pleased. This Jesus is a covenant to the people, and a light to the nations. And just as Jesus announced in his first sermon in his hometown synagogue, he will open the eyes that are blind, free prisoners, and bring out those who sit in darkness. That is, he is the Beloved, the Chosen servant to lead us in a new Exodus.
So it is we say, Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us!
In our Baptism, we are incorporated into the Body of Christ, that mystical body, the Church. We are to be a covenant to the people. We are to be a light to the nations. We are to open eyes that are blind and free those who are bound up, those who sit in darkness. That would include ourselves – we are to let Christ open our eyes and head to the light.
Jesus’ Transfiguration is to lead us to our transfiguration. Our transfiguration is to lead to the transfiguration of the whole world – the whole world God has in God’s hands.
We did not come to Jesus. We are his chosen, his Beloved, his Light, “a light to enlighten the nations (gentiles), for the glory of your people Israel.”
Allow him to take you to a place apart from all the chaos and confusion of this world. Pray with him. See and hear his vision. Be transfigured so that you can be a light to the world! Amen.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Today!
24 January 2010/Epiphany 3 – Nehemiah 8:1-3,5-6,8-10/Luke 4:14-21
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, Saint Peter’s at Ellicott Mills
Today
It is perhaps every person’s dream come true. After the reading of scripture the time for comment arrives. The preacher utters one slightly enigmatic phrase. Sermon over.
In the religion of Jesus, Judaism, this is in fact not unheard of. In eighteenth century Eastern Europe a movement promoting spirituality and joy known as Hasidism was sweeping through Jewish communities. It was a Jewish mystic movement founded by the Baal Shem Tov that reacted against Talmudic learning and maintained that God's presence was in all of one's surroundings and that one should serve God in one's every deed and word.
Disciples of the Baal Shem Tov proliferated, and stories of their teaching and good deeds have been preserved. One such story tells of a town waiting to hear one particular Hasidic Master preach. The village synagogue was filled with people from all over. It was crowded. The Master was in his study preparing himself. His disciples urged him to head into the synagogue as the people were getting restless, so anxious were they to hear the Master preach. He was not ready. The longer he delayed, more people arrived. Word was spreading throughout the village that there was still time to get there to hear the great Master speak. Finally, as it was nearing midnight, the people expecting a brilliant and fiery rhetorical event, the Master slowly made his way through the crowd, up to the reading table, where he paused and silently gazed upon the standing-room only crowd.
Then he spoke. “Nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.” After which he slowly stepped down from the reading table and made his way through the crowd, out the door and back home.
It must have been something like that in Nazareth that Sabbath day long ago. Jesus returns from forty days and forty nights in the wilderness contemplating just what it means to be God’s Beloved. Jesus goes to the synagogue, “as was his custom.” Then Jesus reads what are perhaps the most pivotal two or three verses from the Prophet Isaiah, then sits down, the people looking to him with fervent expectation for what he would make of Isaiah’s ancient declaration for a Jubilee year – a year to free captives, a year to release persons from debt, a year in which those who have lost their property and their homes due to foreclosures and credit arrangements would have their property and homes restored to them. It was a time much like our own – whether you are looking at the economic damage sweeping across the landscape of our country, or the devastation that continues to unfold in Haiti.
Make no mistake about it, everyone in that synagogue knew what Isaiah was talking about – Isaiah, the great Op-Ed Poet and Social Critic in Israel some seven hundred years before Jesus. Isaiah, who recalls the instructions from Deuteronomy and Leviticus, the commandments, of the Lord God of Israel, that it is necessary to periodically, every seven years and in a more thorough manner every fifty years, restructure and redistribute the wealth and the land of the people of God.
So try to imagine the response in your own heart, mind and soul as you sit before Jesus and he utters his one sentence commentary and response: “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” That’s it – that’s his whole sermon.
It is almost a sort of Zen Koan!
Next week we will be allowed to delve deeper into the people’s response. For now we might do well to consider three words: today, fulfilled, hearing.
We gather week by week for corporate worship. We sit here as the scriptures are read. But do we “hear” them? Hearing depends on listening, and listening depends on suspending all thought, all that crowds our busy minds, hearts and souls. Without listening there can be no hearing.
There is a word I have learned, shoshin, that means “beginner’s mind.” It means listening with an open, eager mind, with no preconceptions, and resisting all temptations to formulate a response. Beginner’s Mind is empty, free of the habits of the expert, ready to accept, to doubt, and open to all the possibilities. “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.”- Shunryu Suzuki
Unless we listen with “beginner’s mind,” there can be no fulfillment of the scripture. Fulfillment carries with it connotations of completion, implementation, satisfaction, joy, pleasure and gratification. A kind of Hasid’s dream come true – the spark is set, the flames of fulfillment begin to roar, God’s dream for human kind begins to actually take shape – God’s dream for God’s Beloved, that we love God and love neighbor, actively comes alive as more than an idea, a philosophy or religious ideal – which on that day was to be the beginning of the Jubilee year as Isaiah, Deuteronomy and Leviticus understood it to be.
And when we listen with Beginner’s Mind, this fulfillment of God’s word enters the realm of Now, Today, this very Moment in Time. It is no longer a lesson from the past, it is no longer a goal – it is. It just is.
As it happens, Jesus’ expectations are far greater than our own, far greater than those in that crowded synagogue 2000 years ago. We are meant to see that “Today” means that he is here, now, in this place, where two or three are gathered in His Name. So that when he says “Today” it really really means today. He is here. His “today” is now. Are we here? Are we listening? Are we allowing God’s word to become fulfilled in our hearing today?
Will we ever become like the people gathered before the Water Gate in Nehemiah – whose ears were attentive to the book of God’s law? When the book is opened do we stand up, bow our heads and worship the Lord? Do we weep like they do as they hear the words of the law? Do we allow the joy of the Lord to be our strength? Now. Today.
No doubt I have said too much when all that needs to be said has been said, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
Amen.
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, Saint Peter’s at Ellicott Mills
Today
It is perhaps every person’s dream come true. After the reading of scripture the time for comment arrives. The preacher utters one slightly enigmatic phrase. Sermon over.
In the religion of Jesus, Judaism, this is in fact not unheard of. In eighteenth century Eastern Europe a movement promoting spirituality and joy known as Hasidism was sweeping through Jewish communities. It was a Jewish mystic movement founded by the Baal Shem Tov that reacted against Talmudic learning and maintained that God's presence was in all of one's surroundings and that one should serve God in one's every deed and word.
Disciples of the Baal Shem Tov proliferated, and stories of their teaching and good deeds have been preserved. One such story tells of a town waiting to hear one particular Hasidic Master preach. The village synagogue was filled with people from all over. It was crowded. The Master was in his study preparing himself. His disciples urged him to head into the synagogue as the people were getting restless, so anxious were they to hear the Master preach. He was not ready. The longer he delayed, more people arrived. Word was spreading throughout the village that there was still time to get there to hear the great Master speak. Finally, as it was nearing midnight, the people expecting a brilliant and fiery rhetorical event, the Master slowly made his way through the crowd, up to the reading table, where he paused and silently gazed upon the standing-room only crowd.
Then he spoke. “Nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.” After which he slowly stepped down from the reading table and made his way through the crowd, out the door and back home.
It must have been something like that in Nazareth that Sabbath day long ago. Jesus returns from forty days and forty nights in the wilderness contemplating just what it means to be God’s Beloved. Jesus goes to the synagogue, “as was his custom.” Then Jesus reads what are perhaps the most pivotal two or three verses from the Prophet Isaiah, then sits down, the people looking to him with fervent expectation for what he would make of Isaiah’s ancient declaration for a Jubilee year – a year to free captives, a year to release persons from debt, a year in which those who have lost their property and their homes due to foreclosures and credit arrangements would have their property and homes restored to them. It was a time much like our own – whether you are looking at the economic damage sweeping across the landscape of our country, or the devastation that continues to unfold in Haiti.
Make no mistake about it, everyone in that synagogue knew what Isaiah was talking about – Isaiah, the great Op-Ed Poet and Social Critic in Israel some seven hundred years before Jesus. Isaiah, who recalls the instructions from Deuteronomy and Leviticus, the commandments, of the Lord God of Israel, that it is necessary to periodically, every seven years and in a more thorough manner every fifty years, restructure and redistribute the wealth and the land of the people of God.
So try to imagine the response in your own heart, mind and soul as you sit before Jesus and he utters his one sentence commentary and response: “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” That’s it – that’s his whole sermon.
It is almost a sort of Zen Koan!
Next week we will be allowed to delve deeper into the people’s response. For now we might do well to consider three words: today, fulfilled, hearing.
We gather week by week for corporate worship. We sit here as the scriptures are read. But do we “hear” them? Hearing depends on listening, and listening depends on suspending all thought, all that crowds our busy minds, hearts and souls. Without listening there can be no hearing.
There is a word I have learned, shoshin, that means “beginner’s mind.” It means listening with an open, eager mind, with no preconceptions, and resisting all temptations to formulate a response. Beginner’s Mind is empty, free of the habits of the expert, ready to accept, to doubt, and open to all the possibilities. “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.”- Shunryu Suzuki
Unless we listen with “beginner’s mind,” there can be no fulfillment of the scripture. Fulfillment carries with it connotations of completion, implementation, satisfaction, joy, pleasure and gratification. A kind of Hasid’s dream come true – the spark is set, the flames of fulfillment begin to roar, God’s dream for human kind begins to actually take shape – God’s dream for God’s Beloved, that we love God and love neighbor, actively comes alive as more than an idea, a philosophy or religious ideal – which on that day was to be the beginning of the Jubilee year as Isaiah, Deuteronomy and Leviticus understood it to be.
And when we listen with Beginner’s Mind, this fulfillment of God’s word enters the realm of Now, Today, this very Moment in Time. It is no longer a lesson from the past, it is no longer a goal – it is. It just is.
As it happens, Jesus’ expectations are far greater than our own, far greater than those in that crowded synagogue 2000 years ago. We are meant to see that “Today” means that he is here, now, in this place, where two or three are gathered in His Name. So that when he says “Today” it really really means today. He is here. His “today” is now. Are we here? Are we listening? Are we allowing God’s word to become fulfilled in our hearing today?
Will we ever become like the people gathered before the Water Gate in Nehemiah – whose ears were attentive to the book of God’s law? When the book is opened do we stand up, bow our heads and worship the Lord? Do we weep like they do as they hear the words of the law? Do we allow the joy of the Lord to be our strength? Now. Today.
No doubt I have said too much when all that needs to be said has been said, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
Amen.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
The Light of Christ
10 January 2008 - Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord
Isaiah 43: 1-7/Acts 8: 14-17/Luke 3: 15-17, 21-22
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, Saint Peter’s at Ellicott Mills, Maryland
You Are My Beloved
Baptism and Eucharist are sacraments - that is they are signs of God’s Grace and God’s Presence among us.
Signs point the way for us. A sign on the road can tell us where we are going or where we are, or just how we are to get there, how fast or how slow our journey may be.
In Baptism and Eucharist simple elements like water, oil and light, bread and wine, point the way toward a life lived with God.
Look at the Baptismal Font. There it stands as the gateway to a new life. It is the doorway to the church. It has eight sides, reminding us that Jesus was named on the eighth day, one day more than seven, also symbolizing a new week, a new time, a new life.
All who wish to enter the life of Christ, all who wish to be made a part of the Body of Christ, His Church, must enter through the waters in this font. As we look into the waters of Baptism, what do we see?
The wind, the breath of God, the Spirit of God, blowing over the face of wild, untamed, boundless waves of creation, calling all things into being, setting every thing and every one in its rightful place. There is God himself, picking up a handful of moistened soil, breathing into it until there we are, created in the image of God, imago Dei, men and women created in God’s image.
Look again, and we will see the Hebrew people passing through the Red Sea on dry land, fleeing a land of slavery and endless labor for a land of promise: a promise of peace, justice and dignity for all people, at all times in every place.
Close our eyes and look one more time, and there we are on the banks of the River Jordan, where all the people of Judea and all the people of Jerusalem are waiting in expectation for a savior, an anointed one, a Christ. There is John, and there is Jesus, praying.
Suddenly, the heaven is opened, and the Holy Spirit that breathed over the waters of creation now descends like a dove, landing upon Jesus, while a voice from heaven proclaims, “You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased.”
The water in the font tells us these stories - stories that must never be forgotten. To forget these stories is to forget who we are. Look into the water and see all these things.
Above this water burns the Light of Christ, that marvelous and Holy Flame.
It shines continually to drive away all darkness. This light is the life of men and women everywhere, at all times in all places. All things and all people come into being through this light that is the eternal Word of God. The darkness has never overcome this light.
The light calls us to this font of blessing, this font of new life. All who enter by this water and in this light are to be changed forever. Through this water one is turned – one turns away from sin and turns toward Christ. We not only turn to Christ we turn with Christ and in Christ – Christ who on the banks of the River Jordan turns his life toward God and the announcing of God’s kingdom. We come to turn in the direction he chose to turn.
We no longer live alone. The person baptized is brought into a community, a new community, a community always being made new! This person’s life is now lived in the community of Christ’s Body – the Church.
Everyone who comes to this font is changed. And as they are changed, so is that sacred mystery the Church, the Body of Christ. We are changed as a community.
Once each new person enters this water, the Church, the Body of Christ, can never be the same as it once was. This is our promise. This is our pledge.
To do all in our power, not what we feel like doing, not what we want to do, not what we feel we can afford to do, but all that is in our power to support each person who enters these waters in their life in Christ.
As they enter these waters they enter these stories.
And as they enter these stories they too become a sign for others. All that we say and all that we do will proclaim the Good News of God in Christ.
We are to become the light, the light of Christ, for the world. The whole world and everything therein. From the water comes light. We are to let this light shine in and through all that we do, now and forever. This light means to shine in our hearts.
And as it was for Jesus, there is a voice that says to us, “You are my Beloved; I am well pleased with you!” Baptism incorporates us into the body of Christ. We are God’s Beloved. Claim your Belovedness. Look in the water. Look at this light.
May Christ, the morning star who knows no setting, find it ever burning – he who gives his light to all creation, and who lives and reigns for ever and ever.
As Isaiah tells it, “I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”
Amen
Isaiah 43: 1-7/Acts 8: 14-17/Luke 3: 15-17, 21-22
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, Saint Peter’s at Ellicott Mills, Maryland
You Are My Beloved
Baptism and Eucharist are sacraments - that is they are signs of God’s Grace and God’s Presence among us.
Signs point the way for us. A sign on the road can tell us where we are going or where we are, or just how we are to get there, how fast or how slow our journey may be.
In Baptism and Eucharist simple elements like water, oil and light, bread and wine, point the way toward a life lived with God.
Look at the Baptismal Font. There it stands as the gateway to a new life. It is the doorway to the church. It has eight sides, reminding us that Jesus was named on the eighth day, one day more than seven, also symbolizing a new week, a new time, a new life.
All who wish to enter the life of Christ, all who wish to be made a part of the Body of Christ, His Church, must enter through the waters in this font. As we look into the waters of Baptism, what do we see?
The wind, the breath of God, the Spirit of God, blowing over the face of wild, untamed, boundless waves of creation, calling all things into being, setting every thing and every one in its rightful place. There is God himself, picking up a handful of moistened soil, breathing into it until there we are, created in the image of God, imago Dei, men and women created in God’s image.
Look again, and we will see the Hebrew people passing through the Red Sea on dry land, fleeing a land of slavery and endless labor for a land of promise: a promise of peace, justice and dignity for all people, at all times in every place.
Close our eyes and look one more time, and there we are on the banks of the River Jordan, where all the people of Judea and all the people of Jerusalem are waiting in expectation for a savior, an anointed one, a Christ. There is John, and there is Jesus, praying.
Suddenly, the heaven is opened, and the Holy Spirit that breathed over the waters of creation now descends like a dove, landing upon Jesus, while a voice from heaven proclaims, “You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased.”
The water in the font tells us these stories - stories that must never be forgotten. To forget these stories is to forget who we are. Look into the water and see all these things.
Above this water burns the Light of Christ, that marvelous and Holy Flame.
It shines continually to drive away all darkness. This light is the life of men and women everywhere, at all times in all places. All things and all people come into being through this light that is the eternal Word of God. The darkness has never overcome this light.
The light calls us to this font of blessing, this font of new life. All who enter by this water and in this light are to be changed forever. Through this water one is turned – one turns away from sin and turns toward Christ. We not only turn to Christ we turn with Christ and in Christ – Christ who on the banks of the River Jordan turns his life toward God and the announcing of God’s kingdom. We come to turn in the direction he chose to turn.
We no longer live alone. The person baptized is brought into a community, a new community, a community always being made new! This person’s life is now lived in the community of Christ’s Body – the Church.
Everyone who comes to this font is changed. And as they are changed, so is that sacred mystery the Church, the Body of Christ. We are changed as a community.
Once each new person enters this water, the Church, the Body of Christ, can never be the same as it once was. This is our promise. This is our pledge.
To do all in our power, not what we feel like doing, not what we want to do, not what we feel we can afford to do, but all that is in our power to support each person who enters these waters in their life in Christ.
As they enter these waters they enter these stories.
And as they enter these stories they too become a sign for others. All that we say and all that we do will proclaim the Good News of God in Christ.
We are to become the light, the light of Christ, for the world. The whole world and everything therein. From the water comes light. We are to let this light shine in and through all that we do, now and forever. This light means to shine in our hearts.
And as it was for Jesus, there is a voice that says to us, “You are my Beloved; I am well pleased with you!” Baptism incorporates us into the body of Christ. We are God’s Beloved. Claim your Belovedness. Look in the water. Look at this light.
May Christ, the morning star who knows no setting, find it ever burning – he who gives his light to all creation, and who lives and reigns for ever and ever.
As Isaiah tells it, “I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”
Amen
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
The Wise Man
Epiphany 2010
Saint Timothy’s/Saint Peter’s
I live on the mountain
No one knows.
Among white clouds
Eternal perfect silence. – Han Shan
“Beware of beautiful strangers and on Friday avoid travel by water. The sun is moving into the house of Venus so affairs of the heart will prosper!” That’s what we told old Herod, “the King of the Jews”. Or, something along these lines. We made it up. It meant next to nothing. To tell him anything of real value would have taken weeks of calculations of the conjunction of the planets at the precise moment of his birth, and of his parents and parent’s parents back to the fourth generation.
Herod knew nothing of this and jumped at the bone we threw his way, and hungry like a dog he thanked us for it. Then, his hands trembling so that the rings on his fingers rattled like dry bones, he said, “Find me the baby born to be king so that I may go worship him!” When he had said this his hands were still as death.
I ask you, does a man need to look to the stars to tell him that no king has ever bowed down to another king? He took us for fools and so like fools we answered him, “Yes, yes, of course,” and went on our way never to return to him again.
Why did we travel so far to be there when it happened? Was it not enough just to know the secret without having to be there to behold it? To this not even the stars had an answer. The stars simply said he would born. It was another voice altogether that told us to go – a voice deep within ourselves as deep as the stars are deep in the sky.
Why did we go? I cannot tell you now and could not tell you then. We who had venerated Krishna and studied the sutras of Gautama had not one motive but rather so many! Curiosity I suppose: to be curious is to be wise, and we were very wise. We wanted to see for ourselves this One before even the stars are said to bow down – and to see if it was really true since the wise always have their doubts. Doubt, they say, is the ants in the pants of faith.
And longing. Longing. Why will a man struggle and save his whole life long so that in the end he has something to give to the one he loves?
We finally arrived at the place to which the star had pointed us. It was night. It was cold. The innkeeper showed us the way that we did not need to be shown. The odor of the hay was sweet, and the cattle’s breath came out in little puffs of mist. The man, the woman, between them the King. We did not stay long. Only a few minutes as the clock goes, ten thousand, thousand years the same. We set our foolish gifts down and left.
I will tell you two terrible things. What we saw on the face of that new-born child was his death. A fool could have seen it as well. The wood of the manger was the hard wood of the cross.
And we saw, as sure as the earth beneath our feet, that to stay with him would be to share that death, and that is why we left – giving only our gifts, withholding the rest, withholding our very lives.
And now, sisters and brothers, I will ask you a terrible question, and God knows I ask it of myself. Is the truth beyond all truths, beyond the stars, just this: that to live without him is the real death, and that to die with him is the only true life?
- After Frederick Beuchner, The Magnificent Defeat: The Wise Man, p.68
Saint Timothy’s/Saint Peter’s
I live on the mountain
No one knows.
Among white clouds
Eternal perfect silence. – Han Shan
“Beware of beautiful strangers and on Friday avoid travel by water. The sun is moving into the house of Venus so affairs of the heart will prosper!” That’s what we told old Herod, “the King of the Jews”. Or, something along these lines. We made it up. It meant next to nothing. To tell him anything of real value would have taken weeks of calculations of the conjunction of the planets at the precise moment of his birth, and of his parents and parent’s parents back to the fourth generation.
Herod knew nothing of this and jumped at the bone we threw his way, and hungry like a dog he thanked us for it. Then, his hands trembling so that the rings on his fingers rattled like dry bones, he said, “Find me the baby born to be king so that I may go worship him!” When he had said this his hands were still as death.
I ask you, does a man need to look to the stars to tell him that no king has ever bowed down to another king? He took us for fools and so like fools we answered him, “Yes, yes, of course,” and went on our way never to return to him again.
Why did we travel so far to be there when it happened? Was it not enough just to know the secret without having to be there to behold it? To this not even the stars had an answer. The stars simply said he would born. It was another voice altogether that told us to go – a voice deep within ourselves as deep as the stars are deep in the sky.
Why did we go? I cannot tell you now and could not tell you then. We who had venerated Krishna and studied the sutras of Gautama had not one motive but rather so many! Curiosity I suppose: to be curious is to be wise, and we were very wise. We wanted to see for ourselves this One before even the stars are said to bow down – and to see if it was really true since the wise always have their doubts. Doubt, they say, is the ants in the pants of faith.
And longing. Longing. Why will a man struggle and save his whole life long so that in the end he has something to give to the one he loves?
We finally arrived at the place to which the star had pointed us. It was night. It was cold. The innkeeper showed us the way that we did not need to be shown. The odor of the hay was sweet, and the cattle’s breath came out in little puffs of mist. The man, the woman, between them the King. We did not stay long. Only a few minutes as the clock goes, ten thousand, thousand years the same. We set our foolish gifts down and left.
I will tell you two terrible things. What we saw on the face of that new-born child was his death. A fool could have seen it as well. The wood of the manger was the hard wood of the cross.
And we saw, as sure as the earth beneath our feet, that to stay with him would be to share that death, and that is why we left – giving only our gifts, withholding the rest, withholding our very lives.
And now, sisters and brothers, I will ask you a terrible question, and God knows I ask it of myself. Is the truth beyond all truths, beyond the stars, just this: that to live without him is the real death, and that to die with him is the only true life?
- After Frederick Beuchner, The Magnificent Defeat: The Wise Man, p.68
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