Posts Tagged ‘Expectations’
The Poor Man of Bethlehem, Nazareth, and Calvary – Br. James Koester
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Br. James Koester
One of the problems with God, and if I am honest, there are many problems with God, is that God does not always act or behave like God. This is especially true of Jesus. And that’s a problem. It was a problem for many in his original audiences. It was a problem for the others as well, whether they were followers of Thor, or Baal, or Zeus, or any number of contemporary secular gurus. Indeed, it was and is such a problem, that many did, and continue to reject, not only the idea of God, but the person of God, just as Jesus was rejected, for “many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him” (John 6:66). We see inklings of this today, “Why are you doing what is not lawful on the sabbath?” (Luke 6:2).
Because Jesus does not behave the way we think God must or should, some reject him. Others recreate him, and we get Christian nationalism or the prosperity gospel. We cannot bear to have a god who does not follow the rules. Yet that is the point of Jesus. He forces us to come to terms, not with how we think God should or must act, but how God does act. Read More
Wearing the Boat – Br. Lain Wilson
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Br. Lain Wilson
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30; Romans 7:15-25a
A couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to spend time on Lake Hosmer in northern Vermont learning to scull, that is, rowing a single boat with two oars. If you’ve spent time in the morning looking onto the Charles River, you’ll see any number of scullers peacefully and effortlessly navigating the river.
(Peaceful and effortless did not characterize my experience.)
One of the most helpful things brought up by the coaches was the concept of “wearing the boat.” That is, treating the boat as something you put on, an extension of your body, rather than as a tool you use. Rather than gripping the oars and sitting ramrod straight on the seat, “wearing the boat” is about being light and loose, relaxed and responsive. Read More
Frozen Roles – Br. James Koester
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About thirty years ago, we Brothers went through a period of renewal. We were stuck, and we knew it. It was difficult for us to make decisions. We were busy all the time, but it seemed, we were mostly busy spinning our wheels. We didn’t know which direction we wanted to go, and we weren’t even sure how, or who, would decide that. We were stuck, and we knew it. Luckily, we also knew that something needed to change. We weren’t sure what, but we knew we could not go on like that. And so, we asked around. What had other people and organizations done in similar situations? Eventually we were led to a woman named Jean. Jean walked into our life one day, and while there were countless times when we all wished she would walk right back out, she and we persisted, and we’ve never been the same.
Thirty years later, all of us who were here then, still speak of her. Brothers who were not here, certainly know of her. She is perhaps quoted, and referred to, only slightly less frequently than Father Benson. Ask some of us, and we all have our favourite Jean story.
One of the things that was eye opening for me, was the day Jean introduced us to the concept of frozen roles.
Jean’s point was that we often cannot see what another is doing, or saying, because we think we know what they will do, or say, even before they do, or say it. She always reacts this way. He always does that. I don’t need to bother listening because I already know what they will say. We freeze people, and even ourselves, into certain patterns, and we don’t allow them to break out, or to be different than how we expect them to be.
The dynamics of frozen roles are perhaps most prevalent in families, small work situations, and dare I say it, monastic communities, where members have known one another over decades. Here he goes again, we say to ourselves. How many times have I heard this in the last 10, 20, 30 years? I don’t need to listen. I already know what he will say. Read More
Joseph’s Yes – Br. Luke Ditewig
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Br. Luke Ditewig
St. Joseph
We frequently remember Mary for saying “yes” to God’s invitation. Joseph also said “yes” though none of his words are recorded in scripture. His life is his word. Joseph’s actions speak loudly.
Joseph was a righteous man. Quiet Joseph resolved to do the right thing, to dismiss Mary quietly, to save her from disgrace. Then God told Joseph to do something different, to take Mary as his wife and name their child Jesus. Joseph listened and followed.
The righteous are attentive to listen, with a detachment and freedom to change their ideas—even, especially, of what they understand to be right—and being righteous means action, doing God’s will. Through the gospels, Jesus continually confronts those who cling tight to what they sense is right including who to eat with and how to worship.
When God spoke, Joseph listened and changed his plans. He took Mary as his wife. Later God told him to flee to Egypt with his family, and Joseph did. Further on, God told him to return to Galilee, and Joseph did. Read More
Not Made to Be Trapped – Br. Lain Wilson
Luke 7:19-23
Isaiah 45:5-8, 18-25
Psalm 85:8-13
I’m sure most of us have set mousetraps. I’m sure most of us have also accidentally set them off. I think this experiences helps us to feel what Jesus tells us at the end of today’s Gospel. “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” The root word of “takes offense” in the Greek is often translated “stumbling block,” but literally means the trigger of a trap. Just like touching the mousetrap’s trip, in encountering Jesus we may feel surprise or pain, pull away reflexively, or, if we are unlucky, get caught in a trap.
What did the messengers from John expect to find when they encountered Jesus? A king ready to lead a liberating army? What must they, sent out to see if this man, finally, would be the one foretold—what must they have felt when this man gave as his bona fides his work as a healer, a restorer, and a bearer of good news? Maybe they felt a little surprised or a little hurt. Maybe they tried to create a little distance. Maybe encountering Jesus was a trigger that sprang the trap of their own expectations.
And don’t we do something similar? How often do we come to Jesus and expect him to conform to or affirm our priorities, prejudices, and opinions? We place all these things in front of us so that they mediate and make conditional our encounter with Jesus. We fail to meet Jesus face to face, to take him on his terms, to receive him as he offers himself to us. This is the trap we build, and that we ourselves spring. Read More
Messianic Expectancy – Br. Keith Nelson
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Ecclesiasticus 48:1-11 & Matthew 17:9-13
Advent is one of my favorite seasons because it invites us as liturgical Christians to contemplate a vision of time that is circular and cyclical, rather than a merely linear arc. On the one hand, the Christ we meet in Advent assures us that he is the Beginning and the End, the Word and Wisdom of God present at creation and the Omega point in whom all things converge. One day, the story that we are reading will reach its apparent conclusion, and the last page will declare in bold, black letters: “The End.” On the other hand, we are assured that as we turn that final page, we will know in an entirely new way that the Story has only just begun. Likewise, as we follow Jesus through our own experience of past, present, and future, our individual journey can seem quite finite. But in the context of the great Story of salvation stewarded by the Church, the continual re-telling enacted and embodied, contemplated and savored each Advent, each Christmastide, each Epiphany, helps us orient ourselves in relation to a circle and a cycle. At the center of the circle is Christ; its circumference is a lifetime comprised of moments when we have turned – or are turning – or will turn — toward that center. In each turning moment, we know in our bones: we’ve been here before; we’ll be here again. Yet each encounter holds the promise of new grace. We light, we extinguish, we re-light the candles, and points of flickering light slowly connect the dots. Like the gradual, steady, inward motion of a spiral, we are drawn ever closer to that mysterious moment when, as the First Letter of John puts it, “We will be like him, for we will see him as he is.” Read More
Cut it Out – Br. Curtis Almquist
Preached at Yale Divinity School
…If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched… (Mark 9:42-50)
Don’t do this. Don’t take Jesus literally – plucking out your eye or cutting off your hand. You take this literally, you won’t finish the term. But do take Jesus seriously. This is hyperbole. My little sister used to say this same thing to me when I was acting out, when I had tried her patience to the extreme. She would say, “Curtis, cut it out!” She got my attention.
So I’ll rephrase Jesus’ point in the form of a question to you. What needs to go, stop, end, change in your life? What do you need to cut out or cut off? Read More
Overcoming Discouragement – Br. David Vryhof
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Isaiah 49:1-7
The words of Isaiah, the prophet: “I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity” (Isa 49:4).
We’ve all been there, haven’t we? In that valley of desolation and discouragement; that place where we start wondering if our efforts have made a difference, if they have been appreciated, if they’ve been worthwhile, if we’ve accomplished anything of value. Isaiah is discouraged. The people are in exile and all his efforts to redirect them to God have been met with indifference. He feels like a failure. “I have labored in vain,” he sighs, “I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity.”
Discouragement is something we all experience from time to time. We may feel trapped in a dead-end job or a strained relationship, and have no sense of how to move forward. We may be enduring a chronic illness, with no relief in sight. We may find ourselves consumed with worry about our finances or our home or our work, and we wonder if things will ever get better. A sense of hopelessness settles over us, and we despair of our future. It’s difficult to imagine our circumstances improving and we’re not sure if we have the strength to go on. Read More