Holy Wisdom Monastery - Home of the Benedictine Women of Madison - Madison, Wisconsin

April 29, 2012
Acts 4:5-12, 1 John 3:16-24, John 10:11-18

Of  the years of my life, I have lived all but one in cities: New York, Washington, D. C., Detroit, London, Freiburg, Bologna, and Madison, of course, longest of all.  Consequently, I am unqualified to talk about shepherds and sheep.  All that I know about both I learned from reading Thomas Hardy’s novel Far from the Madding Crowd.  But in the crunch, I find that novels are better on donkeys than on sheep.  I know because I met a donkey once when driving through the English countryside.  He was not going up or down the road, but standing across the road like a rural tollbooth.  In order for me to get past this donkey, I had to drive my car on the shoulder of the road about two inches from a stone wall on the left and one inch from the donkey’s nose on the right.  Considering the placement of the driving wheel in British automobiles, the donkey and I just missed kissing as I inched by.

Which leads me to say that Anthony Trollope introduces a romantic donkey into his novel Dr. Thorne.  Against the orders of his marry-for-money parents, Frank Gresham of Greshamsbury goes to Boxall Hall to propose marriage to the relatively penniless Mary Thorne while she is riding on a donkey.  Trollope tells us that with his eyes on the ass’s ears, Frank “walked there by her donkey’s side, talking thus earnestly of his love for her.”  The author further indicates that “the donkey himself was quite at his ease, and looked as though he was approvingly conscious of what was going on behind his ears.”  My experience, then, real and fictional, tells me that donkeys have an individuality lacking in sheep.

Nevertheless—not to leave sheep out of this capsule survey of Victorian fiction—George Eliot speaks of sheep and shepherds in her novella Janet’s Repentance, where she dramatizes a Good Shepherd in the Evangelical minister, Edgar Tryan, who seeks the one that was lost in Janet Dempster, the alcoholic wife of a brutal husband, and thus does exactly what Jesus urges his listeners to do in Luke’s gospel (15:3-7), which gives us the same parable with some variations that John does in today’s reading.  As it was to those who heard Jesus in his day, this proved a scandal to the well-off in George Eliot’s day.  That “the misery of the one” should cast “so tremendous a shadow as to eclipse the bliss of the ninety-nine” outraged a rapidly industrializing society which supported the ideology of progress founded on Utilitarianism, which held that the good of the many was always more important than the joy and sorrow, the weal and woe of any one individual.  The parable of the Good Shepherd in contradicting this principle just totally offends all politics and morality founded on simple arithmetic.

And so the parable of the Good Shepherd remains a scandal in our day too.  For it continues to confound the inhumane ideologies everywhere evident in the world around us:  in dictatorships like that in Zimbabwe and North Korea where many are left to starve; in the Middle East where Shiite, Sunni, and Kurd are turned into killing abstractions.  And here in the United States we have dangerous notions like National Security and Budget Deficits to say nothing of virulent ideas like Racial Profiling and Voter Fraud among many another.  Each of us can easily conjure up around us equally ridiculous  idiocies because the robo calls never stop and the TV ads are in our eyes ad nauseam.  And to add insult to injury the Vatican’s recent reprimand of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious for differing “at times, from views held by American bishops” about the right to life and human sexuality (Reuters 20 April 2012) shows the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith as ignorant of the meaning of today’s gospel and as ideologically blind to freedom of conscience as the varieties of secular intransigence already mentioned.  To each of these forms of doctrinal inflexibility the individual falls victim if not by bullet or bomb then by legal maneuvers, program cuts, and the willful suspension of human rights.  And each of these wolfish ideologies produce lost sheep who have no shepherd to protect them.

The three readings for today suggest that sanity as well as salvation lies in Jesus, who defines himself as the Good Shepherd.  Additionally, Jesus is Peter’s stone—indeed the cornerstone—that the builders rejected; Jesus is John’s example of one who has laid down his life for us as we ought to lay down ours for one another; Jesus, as John says, is the one whom God knows and who knows God:  the Good Shepherd whom wolves cannot  frighten into leaving his sheep.  That is why we are here with him today.

To me this Jesus is as stubbornly defiant as any donkey standing across a road and asserting his rights as an individual against a machine.  For me this Jesus is as wise as a donkey approving of a young man’s proposing marriage to a young woman and wanting—indeed, insisting—on taking part in the love-scene.  But the love-scene that is traced out in the Scriptures goes way beyond any more or less ingenious analogy that I can draw when John in his letter says this to us:  “Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.  And by this we will know that we are from the truth and will reassure our hearts before God whenever our hearts condemn us; for God is greater than our hearts, and God knows everything. . . .  And this is God’s commandment, that we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another. . . .”

Nicholas D. Kristof, who forever seems to be in some unvisitable part of the globe, has given us examples of people who live this belief in their everyday lives—people “whose magnificence lies not in their vestments, but in their selflessness.”  Singling out  “Maryknoll Sisters in Central America and Cabrini Sisters in Africa” he writes,  “Ordinary lepers, prostitutes and slum-dwellers may never see a cardinal, but they daily encounter a truly noble Catholic Church in the form of priests, nuns and lay workers toiling to make a difference” (The New York Times, 18 April 2010, p. 11). These certainly are one example of Good Shepherds in our time who seek out the very people whom too many in authority in church and state see as lost.  We may not be able to be as remarkable as such individuals are, but each of us will inevitably encounter, as John says, “a brother or sister in need.”  Then it will be our opportunity to enter tellingly into this demanding parable.

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April 15, first Sunday in Easter
Acts 4:32-35

I should probably begin with an apology to those of you who were hoping to hear Libby this morning. You may have noticed that she is not here. On Thursday she was diagnosed with labyrinthitis. I know it sounds like one of those diseases that only spiritual giants get—something like tripping in a moment of spiritual ecstasy while navigating a labyrinth—but really it is a swelling in the labyrinth of small channels in your inner ear. It wrecks havoc with someone’s equilibrium.

Anyway, I agreed to read her homily, although there are a couple of places where I have interjected some of my own thoughts. For those of you who do the homily, this is really as good as it gets. If there is something that doesn’t go well, I can say that the bad part was Libby’s doing. And then if there is something that is particularly astute—I can just claim that the really good parts are mine.

During the Easter season our task is to explore the meaning of the death and resurrection of Jesus for ourselves, our community and our world. It is a journey of spiritual transformation.

During the season of Easter there are no Old Testament readings. Instead, we hear vignettes from the Acts of the Apostles.

Our first reading for the Easter season is Acts 4—no private ownership, everything held in common, no one in need.

I suspect that we have a two-fold response when we hear this.

The first response is that we cringe because we don’t want to give up what we have worked so hard to get

The second is that it seems so idealistic, kind of like socialism—one of those political buzz words for anything that is bad.

If you are familiar with the book of Acts, this is the second time Luke has noted the economic implications of the death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus:

Two chapters before this we read, “All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods, and distribute their proceeds to all, as any had need.” (Acts 2:45)

This small body of believers is being transformed into a community that cares for each other. If I remember my Church history correctly—it was Tertullian who in the 3^rd century said that the mark of the Christian community is the way that the believers cared for one another.

In this passage we see a transformation of how the believers think of their possessions.

Luke’s passion for the implications of wealth and possessions is very evident in his gospel. The culture and context of 1^st century Israel is very different from our own. But even though it is 2,000 years later, he is speaking to the same human heart…

Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. (Luke 6:20)

A man came to Jesus asking him to tell his brother to divide the family inheritance. Jesus replies, “be on your guard against all kinds of greed. One’s life does not consist of the abundance of possessions”. (Luke 18: 13)

Jesus tells the parable of the person who wants to build bigger barns for his grain…Jesus calls him a fool. If you store up treasures for yourself you are not rich in God’s sight (Luke 18:13ff)

The good Samaritan takes care of the injured person on the side of the road and will pay whatever it takes to restore him. (Luke 10: 25ff)

None of you can become my disciples if you do not give up all your possessions (Luke 14:33).

But, let’s face it—we hold our possessions and our assets very close.

Jobs, salaries, retirement. Investments.

One of the things we fear most is that our assets will be wiped out by unemployment, underemployment and the recession.

Every culture has its rules about money:

A sign of the times is pre-nuptial agreements. What is mine is mine, and what is yours is yours. I give my heart and soul to you in marriage–but not my assets…

We don’t talk about money. Our money is our own private business, thank you very much. But, Scriptures are full of references to money—but when was the last time you heard a homily on money?

I grew up in church and the only time I heard about money was when it came time to do the church budget. And then there was the annual sermon on tithing. I was visiting one church where everyone was supposed to fill out a pledge card. The cards were collected, and then they were counted. There wasn’t enough to cover the church budget, so pastor announced that we weren’t going anywhere until he got $12,000 more.

Austin Fellowship:

After Libby and I were married, we lived down the street from an intentional community in Chicago. The members of the community pooled their economic resources and owned housing collectively. We thought, “Wow”…these folks are living out the New Testament vision. We decided to check it out and attend their Sunday services. But, we soon learned that things were not so idyllic; two men who were the leaders of the community were not on speaking terms. Not everyone was treated equally or fairly. There was favoritism and what seemed to be economic abuse. So much for that ideal. We moved to Philadelphia and about four months later the whole thing exploded.

When we lived in Philadelphia, we joined a small Mennonite congregation. We were attracted by the peace witness and the emphasis on simple living. After we joined, we learned that the Mennonite church had their own health insurance system–and it cost about 40 percent less than anything on the commercial market. Instead of premiums, we had a quarterly assessment that went into a pool. If you had a medical bill, it was paid out of the pool. If the pool ran out before the next quarter, we got an extra assessment. And if there was money left in the pool, the next quarter’s assessment went down.

The same with car insurance… we were all in it together, except there was a rule that no vehicle could be insured for more than $35,000—and that included trucks and tractors, too. But what happened is that those of us who lived in Philadelphia tended to have higher claims than folks who lived in rural communities. Some people got resentful, particularly since there tends to be an anti-urban bias in the Mennonite church, and next thing you know, it all fell apart.

So much for idealism about radical Christian living…

So what does today’s text say to us?

Relationships are valued over personal possessions and personal gain—the text says that they were of one heart and soul. They made sure that no one was in need.

There is continuity in the faith of Israel and the faith of followers of Jesus:

Both in the Old and New Testaments the quality of liturgy, faith and life in the community is revealed in the way the poor, the widow, the orphan and the undocumented worker, and stranger are treated by the community.

In the Old Testament, this is what the jubilee is all about—although I don’t think that there is any evidence that it actually happened!

This is not just about writing a check when we are feeling charitable or guilty. This is about a transformation that comes from within–and it spills out into our lives.

How might this transformation be nurtured?

First of all, it happens in community.

Twice in small groups at our small Mennonite church we discussed our household budgets.

Each family or single person prepared a simple sheet listing income, expenses, savings, giving and debts.

We discussed our assumptions, values and the tapes that we had grown up with.

We listened to one another’s stories, struggles and joys.

A single woman who was a school teacher realized she didn’t have to live so frugally. It was ok to spend money on her self-care.

A single man, an engineer, talked about his feelings of quilt with his large paycheck.

A couple in their ’60s, conservative Mennonites (she wore a beanie!) talked about the decisions they had made and unexpected outcomes of some of their decisions.

There was a family that was struggling financially.

These small groups had been meeting quite a while, so there was already trust established among the members. It was done with confidentiality and compassion. And I know that for at least some of us, there was a sense of relief that we could finally talk about money with others who were a part of our faith journey.

Those conversations started a transformation for Libby and me in how we look at our money. It was freeing. One of the things that we have done is set up a separate checking account for money that we give away. The account is called “God’s Account” and with the wonders of on-line banking, every month money is transferred into God’s account. This is God’s money, not ours. The money is sitting there, we just have to figure out where it should go. We don’t worry so much about giving money away—it isn’t our money—so if something happens to it, it is God’s problem. Of course, when we went into the bank to set up God’s account, the banker looked at us kind of strange.

Where it got real interesting is when the checkbook was stolen by a contractor who was working on our house. He got caught writing checks against God’s account, so I had to go to court. So the prosecutor was asking me some questions and then he said, “Mr. Caes, I notice that there is a rather unusual name on this account—God’s account. Could you please tell us about that.” So  in this full courtroom I explained how God had wonderfully gifted us and what God’s account was, and as I was talking I could see that defendant sinking further and further down in his chair. And then the prosecutor concluded, “So, the defendant was stealing from God.” That was the end of the trial–the defendant changed his plea to guilty.

What caught my attention this year in the Acts passage, is that the whole group was of one heart and mind. There was great grace among them.

This is the work of the Spirit. The sharing of the early Christian community is not legalistic, it is not something that was imposed, but came from a spiritual maturity.

And, what if?? What if this truly caught hold! What if others caught the vision. What if this became the way our elected officials went about business…seeking the common good rather than the political gain of a particular ideology.

Libby wanted me to close with a story and a proverb. The story is from Megan MeKenna’s Blessings and Woes: The Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Plain in the Gospel of Luke. It is a Buddhist story of the Indian saint Nagurjuna:

Once upon a time Nagurjuna was traveling. As was his custom he traveled only with a loincloth, and oddly enough, an exquisite golden begging bowl, etched and inlaid with detail and design. It had been a gift to him from a king who was one of his favorite disciples, and he treasured it because of the relationship and memories they had shared together.

One night he was about to settle down to sleep. Having sought out a suitable place so that he could pray and meditate when he awoke, he had found the ruins of an old monastery that had obviously been glorious in its day and now was empty and in disrepair. But as soon as he wrapped himself in some leaves, he noticed a figure lurking in the shadows. A thief, obviously. He sat up and beckoned the man over to him. “Here”, he said, “take this”, and he held out his begging bowl, the king’s gift!  “I need to sleep and then to pray and this way you won’t disturb me later.” The man couldn’t believe his good fortune. The thief snatched it from Nagurjuna’s hands and set off running before he might change his mind.

Nagurjuna slept and was refreshed, awoke to pray and meditate. He was just finishing in the morning when he saw the figure again, hiding in the shadows of the great trees. He gestured him forward and again the thief approached him. The thief stood beside him and handed him his begging bowl. It was a while before he found the words he wanted to say and spoke, “when you gave me your begging bowl so freely last night, you made me feel suddenly so very poor. Will you, can you teach me this this kind of light-hearted detachment that makes you feel so free? I want to be that free and I won’t care if I am poor or rich.”

And finally French proverb:

“When you die, you carry in your clutched hands only that which you have given away.”

 

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Easter Vigil, April 7, 2012
Mark 16:1-8

Scholars believe that this reading from Mark’s Gospel is the original ending of the gospel. It seems an unlikely ending for the good news of Jesus Christ. Since the women remained at the cross we might think they would grasp the resurrection when it is announced to them. However, their fear, terror and amazement get the better of them and they too flee. Not an auspicious ending to the good news, but it does reflect our common human response to suffering, uncertainty and the unknown.

We can sympathize with the women. Our own fear, terror and amazement get the better of us sometimes. The prospect of suffering and the threat of death can send us fleeing to denial, to the safety of non-involvement. Fear has great power over us. Consciously or unconsciously it can dictate many of our actions.

Unless we are able to find a deeper center within us, fear can be an obstruction in our lives. Fear can be like that very large stone rolled over the entrance to the tomb. It can keep us from hearing and believing the good news of Jesus Christ. It can be the obstruction between us and the resurrected life. It can block us from being open to strangers. Fear can hold us back from entering the way of the cross. It can be an impediment to life fully lived.

Perhaps that is why scriptures repeat the message over and over: “Fear not.” More than 175 times we read in Scripture: “Do not be afraid.” Though there are many good reasons to be afraid, the story of God’s relationship with the people shows over and over that there are even better reasons not to be afraid. Time and again, God opens a way for life to emerge in the midst of their fears.

Fear is not the last word in the gospel of Jesus Christ. Mark writes, “The women said nothing to anyone,” but the Word got out, pun intended. Not fear nor flight, not denial nor abandonment can stop the Holy One in the quest to give us life to the full. “When the women looked up, they saw that the stone… had already been rolled back.” In the midst of our confusion and fear, God opens a way to more abundant life.

Jesus’ life shows us that the way of discipleship is the way of the cross. That may evoke fear in us, but our fear does not need to keep us from following Jesus. Faith can exist alongside fear. The message of the young man in the tomb is that we will find Jesus not in the tomb but in our daily lives. He goes before us. The disciples are sent back to the place where their journey began, their daily lives in Galilee. They start again, this time with the experience of Jesus’ presence with them at every turn.

Now we who have heard this story and have lived it tonight are the ones to add the next chapter. The Gospel is open-ended. Whatever our past, we can begin again. We are sent back to our daily lives to look for Jesus’ living presence among us. Now that we know the story, we will see him in the sick, those in prison, the poor, in all who suffer, in friends and strangers alike. We see him in our assembly and in the bread and wine we share. Christ has been raised; He is going before us in all our daily activities. Thanks be to God.

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