guests and hosts


Posted By on Jul 29, 2018

Memorial of Martha, Mary and Lazarus 60th Anniversary of the Founding of New Camaldoli On the liturgical calendar for the rest of the Church, this feast is listed only as the feast of Martha, but the Benedictine order celebrates this as the feast of her siblings as well––Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. And more specifically yet, for us here, of course, it’s a special feast, because it’s the day we were officially recognized as a religious institution in the Diocese of Monterey-Fresno in 1958. Our Camaldolese liturgical calendar, which comes out of Italy, lists these three as amici ed ospiti del Signore. Ospite is an interesting word in Italian. In common language it is usually translated as “guest,” but in the dictionary its first meaning is actually “host.” How can someone be a guest and a host at the same time? Maybe that’s what happens in the closest of friendships, the line between host and guest, teacher and student, even master and disciple, sometimes disappears. If you think of it, Jesus at the celebration of every liturgy is both our guest and our host: we make room for Jesus in our midst, in our hearts and in our lives, and God provides a feast at the Table of the Word and Sacrament. In looking at this family that we celebrate today, Martha, Mary and Lazarus, one gets the feeling we are catching a glimpse of Jesus’ own private life. Outside of the apostles and his mother, these are his most intimate relationships. It’s nice to think that Jesus had a place he could go, where he was just among friends, some people who knew what kind of foods he liked and what kind of sandals he wore. Maybe their house was that one place where he could go where he didn’t have to be on stage, where he didn’t have to be rabbi, or “good teacher,” or “Lord.” He was just “our friend Jesus.” I also like to think of Martha, Mary and Lazarus, these three people who loved Jesus, as representing three different aspects of love. (Hence especially the reading from 1 John that we are offered for this day.[i]) Mary is the easiest to understand. Though this Mary is often conflated with the figures of Mary Magdalene and the woman caught in adultery, there is no proof of that. But there is something similar about the energy of their relationships with Jesus. I think we could even think of her being in love with Jesus––that doesn’t diminish Jesus’ divinity in any way––even as they say one falls in love with one’s guru or teacher. Mary is at least...

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For Br. Gabriel Kirby, OSB Cam. 21 April, 1930–18 July, 2018 Our Bishop Rich Garcia passed away recently; I was at his funeral last Thursday. A priest friend of his gave a homily, warning us that it was going to be just as much a eulogy as a homily. It was very touching, filled with memories. Not knowing Bishop Rich that well, I couldn’t relate to a lot of it, but there was one thing this priest said that I tried to commit to memory right away. He said, about his friend the bishop, “We accompanied him as far as we could, right up to the edge of life as we know it…” As soon as he said, that I immediately thought of Hezekiah’s Canticle from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah that we sing for Lauds in the Office of the Dead, particularly in relationship to our journey with Gabriel these last days. The antiphon we sing for that canticle is, At the threshold of death rescue me, O Lord![i] And I put those two phrases together: the edge of life and the threshold of death… Many of you will know that Gabriel really thought that God could and might rescue him, right up until the moment of death, and heal him 100 percent. He told me that specifically, as I’m sure he told many others as well, “even my eyes and my teeth!” he said. As some of you also know, Gabriel’s active dying process went on extraordinarily long, especially the last six days when he could no longer eat or drink and was lying in bed, for the most part unconscious but not necessarily unaware; I had the impression that he was sort of coming and going. Aside from being so moved by the tender care he got from Raniero, Jana, and Jim[ii]––every few hours turning him and speaking to him––, it was especially difficult to watch that poor little body lie there struggling to breathe. Why both that line of the priest and the line from Hezekiah struck me is because we not only accompanied him as far as we could to the edge of life, it felt like we went even farther, to the very threshold of death with him, as far as we could. As a matter of fact, Gabriel made us go farther than we normally go with someone to the edge of life as we know it, drew us in with him to the threshold of death. Maybe I should rephrase that: he didn’t make us go there, but that’s what we did because that’s what we do for each other...

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rejecting the saving word


Posted By on Jul 18, 2018

There is a theory about history called the Axial Period and along with it Axial consciousness. It postulates that about five centuries before the birth of Jesus, the Common Era, a great leap in the evolution of consciousness took place all over the planet in several spots at the same time. This was a period when the great religions of the world took roughly the shape they were to have going forward. Among other things what is happening in human consciousness is that the magical-mythical mind and magical-mythical thinking are giving way to the rational mind. It’s also the beginning of understanding personal moral responsibility rather than simply reciting formulas and incantations to appease the gods. It’s also the beginning of charting an individual spiritual path, as opposed to a tribal one. (This is when monasticism is born, incidentally, specifically out of Buddhism, monasticism being the prime example of the individual, individualized, spiritual path, intentionally separating from family and progeny.) The religious traditions that usually get mentioned are: Hinduism––this is when the Upanishads of India burst out of the Vedas; the birth of Buddhism which leaves Hinduism behind completely; the birth of Taoism in China; the rise of Greek philosophy. And most relevant to us, perhaps, this is the era of prophecy in Israel, an evolution in the consciousness of the Chosen People as well, moving from just appeasing God with sacrifices to actually being moral people. As I heard a rabbi say once, “To be moral, you must do moral things.” There is no better example of this new consciousness in Israel––personal moral responsibility over magical formulas––than Isaiah. The middle of the Book of Isaiah is filled with consolation; but the beginning of it is not so nice. All of the areas mentioned above are being addressed early on in Isaiah––the magical-mythical thinking, personal moral responsibility, as well as the connection with the collective. God says, ‘I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams, and the fat of fed beasts. …Your new moon and your appointed festivals my soul hates.’ As the Book of Deuteronomy had already taught, instead‘Circumcise, then, the foreskin of your heart…’: ‘Learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.’[1] What does Christianity add to this Axial consciousness five or six hundred years later? For one thing it tries to ensure that this trajectory stays incarnate––but that is a whole other topic! More importantly in this context, Jesus can be seen as a continuation, even the apogee, of the prophetic tradition of Israel. Twice Jesus quotes the prophet Hosea chapter 6 in the Gospel of Matthew––as...

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who do you think you are?


Posted By on Jul 10, 2018

This was my homily and closing conference for our 7th Annual Camaldolese Retreat for Oblates and Friends at St. Francis Retreat Center in San Juan Bautista July 6-8, 2018. There is a wonderful long quote that is often attributed to Nelson Mandela, because he used it in his inauguration speech in 1994. It actually comes from Marianne Williamson, from her book Return to Love.[1] There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. This is something that should be on a poster in every child’s room as they are growing up. This week we heard the story from the Gospel of Mark[2] about Jesus coming back to his hometown. His disciples followed him there, and he taught in the synagogue on the Sabbath: … and many who heard him were astounded. They said, ‘Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands!’ This next line we might not be ready for: And they took offense at him!? It’s where we get the classic phrase when Jesus says, ‘Prophets are not without honor except in their own native place. There are similar stories throughout the gospels. For example, in the Gospel of Matthew we hear that the people were astounded that such authority could be given to human beings. And earlier in the same gospel, when Jesus was in the country of the Gadarenes, there were two demoniacs, and Jesus cured them by sending the demons into a herd of swine. And when the people of the town heard about it, they came out and begged him to leave.[3] Again, not quite ready for that reaction… What makes this particular scene in the Gospel of Mark even worse is that Jesus is in his hometown, Nazareth of Galilee. They were scandalised by him in his native place. A first lesson to draw from this story is that part of the scandal of the Gospel is precisely in just how near God comes to us, in our homes, in our very nature. Part of the scandal of the Gospel is that such authority, such wisdom and power can have been given to a human being. That’s why Jesus is called...

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we hold these truths


Posted By on Jul 5, 2018

When I was a kid, not only did I learn most of the Scripture I know from listening to music; it seems as if I learned almost everything from listening to music. We all had to memorize the first paragraph of the Declaration of Independence in school: When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. And so, to “declare the causes which impelled them to the separation,” they wrote this amazing document. What’s already interesting to me is the mention of God and natural law: “the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them…” But it’s the second paragraph of the Declaration of Independence that I really loved. My Mom had an album by a group called The 5th Dimension, and there was a song on that album that was basically the second paragraph of the Declaration set to music (called “Declaration,” oddly enough), and I memorized it. Now, 50 years later, I don’t remember the first paragraph of the Declaration of Independence, but I still remember the second one well enough to sing it: “We hold these truths to be self-evident––that all people are created equal …” (I know: I am changing that for inclusive language. It actually says “all men.” But that’s part of my point…) It is self-evident––obvious, not open to debate––that all people are created equal and “that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” That’s the foundation of our country, the principle that all people are equal. The Laws of Nature and Nature’s God––the Creator––have endowed all human beings with rights that shall not be taken away, unalienable rights: the right to life, the right to liberty, and even the right to pursue happiness. And this is the whole reason governments are instituted, to ensure these rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness: “That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted . . . deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.” And “whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government.” That of course is why...

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wake to your power


Posted By on Jul 1, 2018

This particular gospel passage (Mk 5:21-43) contains a near perfect literary device––a story within a story. There is the story of the woman with the hemorrhage but, on each side of it, it is sandwiched in by the story of the healing of Jairus’ daughter. The lectionary actually gives us the option this Sunday of only reading the story of the woman with the hemorrhage, but this seemed like too perfect of a narrative to pass up. And I think it is significant whenever women show up in the gospels––and here we have two! Looking at the middle first, the story of the unnamed woman with the hemorrhage… The thing that sticks out glaringly in this scene is the fact that this woman is ritually unclean! According to Jewish custom, her sickness made her impure, and therefore she is prohibited from entering the temple, banned from participating in any of the religious feasts. She was the same as a leper––through no fault of her own, through nothing she had done wrong, just by virtue of being alive with this particular reaction in her body. That’s like keeping sick people out of the hospital. But not only was she impure, anyone she touched would be considered impure too––the whole teeming mass of people in the crowd that she was elbowing her way through with such determination. And specifically Jesus––who she touched on purpose! She made Jesus ritually impure! He doesn’t seem too squeamish about that, which is no surprise given what we know about him. Ah, but this is not the old temple; this is the new temple, as John tells us––the body of Jesus is the new temple, and this temple, Jesus’ body, is specifically meant to be touched, even, maybe especially, by those who were outcasts. The physicality of all this is very important. On the negative side the almost obsession with ritual purity, of not coming into contact with anything supposedly impure, of the strictest religious people of the time. It reminds one of the caste system in India too, and the dalits-the so-called untouchables. But on the positive side, the ancients believed that, just as impurity could spread from one body to another, so too healing flowed right out of the body of the healer to the sick person. This carries over right into the Christian tradition in the laying on of hands––the belief that there is real power transmitted and at work, the power of the Spirit. Even the fact that mere contact with the fringe of Jesus’ garment causes the power to flow, and the fact that Jesus feels even that, is significant here....

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