Saturday, January 10, 2015

Be strong, do not fear!
Hear is your God.”
(Isaiah 35:4a)

Monday, Advent II                                                                                Jan Robitscher
Isaiah 35:1-10                                                                                     CDSP--All Saints' Chapel
Psalm 85:8-13                                                                                     December 8, 2014
Luke 5:17-26
Marana tha! Come, Lord Jesus!

Advent is the season of the comings of Christ: past, present and future. The word “Advent” means literally “to come to”.  For most folks the main focus of this season is on the past, remembering the coming of Jesus at his birth, the fulfillment of ages of longing for a Savior, of longing for God to break into our good world marred by sin. This is not a bad thing! But it is also not complete. God comes to us continually and in many ways from the beginning of the cosmos until the end of time as we know it. Yet to only dwell on God coming to us--even most supremely in the Coming of Jesus-- is to miss an important part of this season. What about our coming to God? Advent, then, is the season of God’s comings to us and of our comings to God. What does it mean, then, to pray this simple, ancient prayer, “Marana tha!” and what might it have to do with today’s lessons?

Marana tha  is an Arabic phrase that occurs only once in the New Testament (1 Cor.16:22) and is usually not translated. It also appears in the early lirurgical document, the Didache. It can have at least two different meanings: “Come, Lord Jesus” or “Our Lord has come”, though the weight of must scholarship is on the cry and command, “Come, Lord Jesus”.1    

My journey with this word-prayer began a year ago when I attended a workshop given at All Souls Church on paperless music.  We were asked to make up a simple melody that could be easily taught that expressed some aspect of Advent. Here is what I did. I invite you to sing after me:
(Sung):  MARANA THA! MARANA THA!

This experience launched me into an intense time of praying “Come, Lord Jesus!” in many forms, most notably several of the Taize chants we did here at CDSP during Lent last March. One of them went like this:
(Sung): The Kingdom of God is justice and peace
and joy in the Holy Spirit.
Come Lord, and open in us
the gates of your Kingdom.

(Sung): And another: Let all who are thirsty come. 
Let all who wish receive the water of life
freely. Amen, come Lord Jesus.
Amen, come Lord Jesus.

Each chant contains the phrase, “Come, Lord!”. I was surprised how much I wanted to pray this prayer. Not as in former years when I would have been afraid to pray for Jesus to come: too scary; not worthy; not ready, and many more reasons. Yet, now it has become the expression of a deep longing both within me and for our world. 

But enough about me. What about the lessons? Isaiah shows the signs of God’s coming with a word-picture of the desert in full bloom, but also bids the people to be strong, to have courage. God is indeed coming, but maybe not as we would like or expect:
“Be strong; do not fear!
            Here is your God. He will come
with vengeance and terrible recompense.
He will come and save you.”

Only then does he speak of the wonderful healings that will take place: the eyes of the blind opened, the ears of the deaf unstopped... 

And our Gospel lesson? Here is a story that is really of a double-coming. It tells of a paralytic who longed to see Jesus so much that his friends went to wildly creative lengths to bring him right to the center of the crowd, to Jesus’ feet. But--much to the consternation of the Pharisees and the crowd--Jesus also longs to come to him--and not only by his presence. He wanted to heal  the man physically and spiritually. Not just his paralysis of body, but of mind and heart and spirit. And then he asked “Which is easier...?” The Pharisees and the crowd were confused. The man left with greater clarity--forgiven, healed, freed and rejoicing, “glorifying God”. 

We, too, long for Jesus to come; to be in his presence; to be healed both pyisically and spiritually. We do not have to wait long for Jesus to come. In a few minutes we will [receive the Sacrament of Healing]. In a few more minutes we will be invited to receive Jesus as he gives himself in bread and wine. He will come to us and dwell in us and we will become Christ bearers to the world.  

Which brings us back to the question: In this Advent, do we really want Jesus to come? Do we really want to pray, “Marana tha! Come, Lord Jesus”? I wonder what would happen if we tried it, both individually and as a community? What would happen if Jesus really did come into our lives, into our communities, into our world? Then maybe the words of the Psalm would be fulfilled:
I will listen to what the Lord God is saying,*
for he is speaking peace to his faithful people
and to those who turn their hearts to him.
Mercy and truth have met together;
righteousness and peace have kissed each other.
Truth shall spring up from the earth
and righteousness shall look down from heaven.
(Psalm 85: 9-11, BCP)

And Advent will truly be the Season of Comings: God to us and us to God.  

Be strong; do not fear! Here is your God! 


Marana tha! Come, Lord Jesus!”

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Sermon for the Feast of Thomas Gallaudet and Henry Winter Syle

"[Jesus] sighed and said to him, 
Ephphatha, that is, 'Be opened.'"
(Mark 7:34)
Thomas Gallaudet and Henry Winter Syle                                                       Jan Robitscher
       Isaiah 35:3-6a                                                                                      St. Mark's Chapel
       Psalm 19:1-6                                                                                        August 27, 2014
       Mark 7:23-27
(Signed 2x)  EPHPHATHA!
(Be opened)

Today we remember Thomas Gallaudet and Henry Winter Syle. While they may not be saints (Beyond the word that describes all of us) in the traditional sense, they certainly were pioneers in the Faith.  But this is not just a history lesson; there are connections, and these are important to our life-in-Christ.

The story actually begins long before Gallaudet and Syle, yet after Jesus healed the deaf man. Roman Catholics count the early seventeenth century bishop Francis de Sales as one of the patron saints of the deaf because he invented a kind of sign language in order to impart the Gospel (and probably his incomparable spiritual direction, too) to a deaf person. 

Fast forward to about 1822 when Thomas Gallaudet was born of a deaf mother and hearing father. After teaching the deaf at what would eventually become Gallaudet University (which his father founded and as was his wish) and marrying Miss Elizabeth Budd, who was deaf, Thomas was ordained in 1851 and established St. Ann's Church in New York, with a special ministry to the deaf.

One of the parishioners there was Henry Winter Syle, who became deaf from scarlet fever at the age of 6. From his archives:
           He became an active religious leader, as a lay reader. He was involved with dr. Thomas 
           Gallaudet's mission for the deaf. He also started studying for Holy Orders while working
           at the U.S. Mint.  He was ordained 1876 by Bishop Stevens of Philadelphia as a deacon
           of the Protestant Episcopal Church.   

           On October 14, 1884, Rev. Henry Winter Syle was ordained to priesthood by Bishop
           William Bacon Stevens at St. Stephen's Church, becoming the first Deaf priest in the
           United States.  He helped to improve the Church Mission to the Deaf in Pennsylvania,
           Delaware and New Jersey.  He also founded All Souls Church in Philadelphia.
            (From <www.gallaudet.edu/archives>
Sadly, Syle died two years later, in 1890. So what? Why do these people matter and what
connection do they have with us? A former Associate Priest of All Soul's Parish here in Berkeley had a personal connection.
Fr. Bill Fay's grandfather taught at Gallaudet and his father grew up on the campus there. Another connection is the ministry to the deaf that took place right here in this chapel, with Fr. Henry Bayne presiding, until about 20 years ago. Fr. Fay and Fr. Bayne have joined Gallaudet and Syle in the Communion of Saints. 

After Henry Winter Syle it would take another hundred years before the Church would ordain another deaf person, Fr. Roger Pickering. I knew of him when I lived in Philadelphia. He, too, had a Berkeley connection.  

           Prior to his moving to Pennsylvania to become Vicar of All Souls Church for the Deaf,
           [Roger Pickering] was the founding Vicar of the Mission of the Holy Spirit Church in
           Berkeley, California.  He was a frequent guest preacher and pastoral counselor in
           numerous other churches including the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C.  While
           most people think of him exclusively as the beloved Vicar of a local church, over the
           course of his life he did far more, often unrecognized.                

But all these wonderful connections still beg a question: Why was==and is==the Church so fearful of ordaining persons with disabilities? Henry Winter Syle endured fierce opposition from those who believed the tradition that a loss of one of the senses was an impediment to ordination. He was a deacon for eight years before finally fulfilling his call as a priest. Today there are very few deaf clergy and  even fewer who are hearing who can sign.

Isaiah's prophetic words ring out to the Church as much as to those who are deaf or otherwise disabled:
           Strengthen the weak hands
                 and make firm the weak knees.
           Say to those who are of a fearful heart,
                 "Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God. (Isaiah 33:3-4a)

And to the Church and to us all, Jesus says:
            (Signed) EPHPHATHA!  Be opened!
           


           




Saturday, September 14, 2013

...He believed 1) the supremacy of the Bible's authority over the Church--Hus by Jan Robitscher, a Homily



“Listen to what the Spirit is saying to



the churches”



(Rev. 3:6)



Jan Hus  (Transferred)                                                                          Jan Robitscher
            Job 22:21-30                                                                                         St. Mark’s Chapel
            Psalm 119:113-120                                                                               Berkeley, CA
            Revelation 3:1-6                                                                                    July 5, 2013
            Matthew 23:34-39

In the Name of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

If I were to ask you when the Reformation began, you might answer, “when Martin Luther posted his 95 Theses on the Wittenburg door”--and that is one good answer. But a hundred years earlier there were two figures  whose work comprised the dawn of the Reformation: John Wycliffe and John (or Jan or Jan) Hus, today’s commemoration. 

Born of poor parents in Bohemia, Hus was educated at the University of Prague where, after attaining his Master’s degree, he became a professor. While there, he read the
Jan Hus
philosophical works of John Wycliffe. This may seem surprising, though there was much contact between England and Bohemia due to the marriage of the two royal families.
[1]  

But in 1401 Wycliffe’s theological works arrived in Bohemia, which were his critique of the power and dominion of the church in secular matters. These were a great influence on Hus, though he did not ever agree with Wycliffe’s most radical views, especially his denial of transubstantiation. In 1402 Hus took over the preaching at the Bethlehem Chapel (which still exists) and began preaching in Czech and became enormously popular.

But Wycliffe was best known for being the first to translate the Bible into English, which you heard in the second reading) and it was this access to the Word of God by ordinary people that was Hus’ passion.

At the same time, Church authorities were becoming more conservative and more afraid of reform, setting the stage for conflict. Add to this the Great Western Schism, which ended up dividing the Church between three rival popes. Hus supported the third of these, but railed against his sale of indulgences, for which he was promptly forbidden to preach and, eventually, excommunicated.

Although he tried to withdraw, he was pursued and finally arrested, tried before the Council of Constance and held in prison for the rest of his life. He was condemned as a heretic and burned at the stake on July 6, 1415.  It is said that he wrote hymns and died singing. That same council also had Wycliffe’s bones dug up, burned and thrown into the river Swift.

Hus’ views were remarkably ahead of his time. Much like Martin Luther and other reformers who would come after him, he believed 1) the supremacy of the Bible's authority over the Church; 2) the separate spheres of civil and churchly power; 3) the doctrine of predestination; 4) Christ is head of the church, not the pope; 5) that Communion should be served "in both kinds," that is, both the bread and the cup. (By this time the cup was commonly withheld from the people during the Mass.).

Bethlehem Chapel, Prague
Why are these early reformers, Wycliffe and Hus, important to us? I was surprised to find Jan Hus among the unofficial commemorations in the Roman Catholic devotional, Give Us This Day, a remarkable rehabilitation! All of the reformers tried to express the truth as they saw it to a church much in need of reform. None sought to separate, especially to found sects in their own name. The Church in every age must always be “recalled to the image of Christ”, as our collect states.  Sometimes this involves speaking truth to power, as both Wycliffe and Hus did. But even Pope Francis, in a position of great power,  has reframed the papacy away from the trappings of power and toward a more pastoral, bishop-centered role.

Hus Burned at Stake
We must, as the letters of our reading from Revelation say, “Listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches”. “Remember what you have heard” the angel said, “obey it and repent.” And we must never take for granted our ability to hear Scripture, preaching and the Eucharist in our own language.  Thanks be to God for those who paved the way by their work and suffering and death, especially Jan Hus who we remember today.




Revelation 3
Wycliffe Bible (WYC)
And to the angel of the church of Sardis write thou, These things saith he, that hath the seven spirits of God, and the seven stars. I know thy works, for thou hast a name, that thou livest, and thou art dead.
Be thou waking, and confirm thou other things, that were to dying [and confirm other things, that were to die]; for I find not thy works full before my God.
Therefore have thou in mind, how thou receivedest, and heardest; and keep, and do penance. Therefore if thou wake not, I shall come as a night thief to thee [Therefore if thou shalt not wake, I shall come to thee as a night thief], and thou shalt not know in what hour I shall come to thee.
But thou hast a few names in Sardis, which have not defouled their clothes; and they shall walk with me in white clothes, for they be worthy.
He that overcometh, shall be clothed thus with white clothes; and I shall not do away his name from the book of life [and I shall not do away his name of the book of life], and I shall acknowledge his name before my Father, and before his angels.
He that hath ears, hear he, what the Spirit saith to the churches.







[1] www.ritchies.net/p3wk9.htm