The homily for St. Michael & All Angels by The Reverend Andrea Budgey

 Once, when I was a child – I've forgotten how young – I found my bed made, and I was sure I hadn't done it myself: it was too neat, crisp and smooth, with hospital corners. I thanked my mother for doing it, and she denied having been anywhere near my bed that morning. Since no-one else in the house was a likely candidate, I decided that my guardian angel must have done it. I don't know where I got the idea, since we weren't a church-going family, and I'd never been exposed to Sunday-school, but apparently it made sense to me that an emanation of the presence of God would have come and sorted out this little domestic chore for me. I never worked out what had actually happened, but it must be said that it never happened again.

I was reminded of this rather embarrassing childhood episode occasionally when I was working at the Anglican Book Centre, and we would get in popular books about angels. We’d hope that there might be something about angels in scripture and history, but almost everything in that line was about getting the most out of angels – harnessing their power, if you like – for fun and profit, especially your own personal guardian angel.

Now it's true that the tradition of guardian angels – one assigned to every human being – can be said to have roots in scripture, and I think we may all have had moments of feeling inexplicably watched over, or cared for, and whether you ascribe that protection to a personal angelic guardian or directly to God probably depends on your own cultural conditioning and temperament. But really, to “domesticate” angels is to miss several important points. In Hebrew, the word for angel is malakh, “something or someone sent”; the Greek is aggelos, a herald, or messenger. An angel, then, is a messenger of God, or, in some interpretations, an emanation of the divine Will. The angels whom Jacob sees ascending and descending the ladder, in our first reading, are passing, in a very literal way, between heaven and earth, signifying communication between God and humanity, a point of contact between the visible and invisible, the known and the mysterious. That’s what we, like Jacob, desire from God (or think we do): knowing the limitations of our understanding, the gulf which seems to lie between us and perfection, is one of the great frustrations of being human, and the angelic visitations of scripture are a sign that the barrier is not completely impassable – at least in one direction.

The promise Jesus makes to Nathaniel echoes this earlier story, but now it locates the medium of communication precisely in his own person – he has become the ladder by which God descends to be with us, and upon which we are summoned to ascend to God. He joins himself to our human life, so that we can be drawn into the divine life. In both of these stories, there is a promise made to an individual, but its ramifications are far greater than that individual's own comfort or instruction. The promise is made to generations yet to come, and the individual is drawn into the fulfilment of that promise as part of a greater community – Nathaniel's promised vision is not for himself alone, any more than Jacob's was. Think of other great angelic visions in scripture – Ezekiel and the wheel, for example, or Gabriel's visits to Zechariah, to Mary, and to Joseph – in each case, an individual is commissioned to be something more than him- or herself, and to manifest God's power and God's love for others.

In some ways, the whole book of Revelation – bizarre as it is – presents us with a highly complex and elaborated version of that same sort of vision. What John describes is a huge metaphor for the Incarnation of God as a human being, with promises of God's ultimate triumph over evil, and John’s own commissioning to reveal this good news to others. One of the centrepieces of the vision is the battle between Michael and Satan, which we heard in our second reading. Probably because of the way he experienced conflict in his own life, John presents this cosmic struggle in terms of a human war – an instrusion of human violence into the kingdom of heaven. If you read carefully, though, you'll see that most of the detailed imagery we have associated with the conflict in art – weapons, armour, and details of the combat – is supplied from our own imaginations, and from a lifetime of seeing images of Michael with a spear or a sword, casting down the serpent; Milton’s account of celestial warfare coloured by his own experience of Civil War... Elsewhere in the Book of Revelation, John praises the non-violent resistance of the martyrs, and this re-echoing of Christ’s self-offering is of far greater consequence in the triumph of love over evil than any feats of arms, however cosmically irresistible they might appear. It is possible to imagine other, less crudely obvious, forms which the triumph of the angels of God might take, and it's up to our own prayerful imaginations to find them and make them known in the world's search for peace.

Prayerful imagination is also what we are called to use in our own lives, as individuals and as communities. And as we strive to discern, to discover the will of God for us, it's worth remembering something about encounters with angels, the messengers of God. First, we need to be open to hearing the voice of God, in ways less literal, more subtle, more discreet, more intimate, and also more prosaic, than the sudden appearance of a radiant being with a twelve-foot wingspan (although not, perhaps, as prosaic as I imagined as a child). Second, we have to remember that we don’t seek divine guidance just as individuals: like Jacob, we are part of a living inheritance; like Nathanael, we are part of a community, part of the Body of Christ. Finally, we already have an experience of God coming to meet us, week by week, in Word, and prayer, and sacrament – God comes to us, speaks to us, and feeds us, providing the angelic ladder on which we may also ascend into his risen and glorious life. Therefore with angels and with archangels, and with all the whole company of heaven, we laud and magnify God’s holy name, looking with joy and hope to the kingdom which lies before us, in whose building we are called to share. Amen.

The current Humphrys Chaplain to the University of Trinity College and the Saint George campus of the

The Reverend Andrea Budgey

University of Toronto is the Rev'd Andrea Budgey.

Ms. Budgey completed both an M Mus (performance: oboe) and an MA (medieval studies: Celtic languages and literature, music) at the University of Toronto, and in 2006 obtained her M Div from Trinity College. She was ordained priest in January of 2008, and was Assistant Curate at Saint Simon-the-Apostle in Toronto until the end of that year, continuing to serve as honorary assistant, and later as interim priest-in-charge; she is currently an honorary assistant at the parish of Saint Stephen-in-the-Fields, close to campus. She has been involved in community outreach and advocacy for a number of years, and retains a strong interest in ecumenical and interfaith work; she welcomes constructive engagement with both seekers and skeptics. She is also advisory board chair of the University of Toronto unit of the Student Christian Movement. As a member and co-founder of the SINE NOMINE Ensemble for Medieval Music, she sings and plays harp, fiddle, recorder, and percussion, and has directed a number of medieval liturgical reconstructions. She has been an instructor (in Celtic Studies, music, and English) for Saint Michael's College, the School of Continuing Studies, the Faculty of Music, and the Scarborough campus of the University of Toronto, a freelance writer and researcher, bookseller, and calligrapher, and has also worked in radio music production and concert management.

The Homily preached by Sister Elizabeth on the occasion of Sister Rhonda's First Profession, September 25, 2013

Homily — Sr. Rhonda’s First Profession — September 25, 2013

Today is a very special day in the life of Sr. Rhonda and of this Community; it is also the Feast of St. Sergius whom, until this past week, I knew nothing about except that he had been an Abbot and founder of a religious community in the 14^th Century. I’d like to share a little of what I have learned about St. Sergius.

According to one author St. Sergius is the most loved of all the Russian saints, 2^nd only to the Virgin Mary, especially in Northern Russia. In another book I read, he is described as a ‘peasant saint’ (in character if not by origin) — simple, humble, grave, gentle and neighbourly. [These words might describe Rhonda except for the word “grave”; her joy has a tendency to bubble up to the surface in giggles or gentle laughter, especially when doing exercises in the therapeutic pool at St. John’s Rehab. The last few week or so she’s had difficulty keeping her feet on the ground.] St. Sergius has been compared to St. Francis in his love of nature, a rather wild kind of nature compared to that of Italy. There is a story, perhaps apocryphal, that he once fed his last piece of bread to a bear who was hungry, and thereafter he and the bear became friends.

St. Sergius lived during the time when Russia was occupied by the Mongol Tartars; he and his parents & brothers were driven from their home in Moscow so they moved into the forest north of Moscow and started farming there. After his parents’ death, Sergius, at the age of 20, went deeper into the forest about 45 miles NE of Moscow to seek spiritual solitude. He convinced his older brother Stefan to join him and together they built their individual cells and a small chapel. [According to Jane deVyver,] “he lived a very austere ascetic life, marked by extreme poverty, hard physical labor, and profound humility and simplicity.” This was too much for Stefan who returned to the monastery where he had been living before joining Sergius. For some years Sergius lived a solitary and extremely austere life, keeping long vigils in his tiny chapel. However, as so often happens with hermits or mystics who try to live a solitary life, others learned of this holy man, were attracted by his life, and began making their own cells close by. By 1354 a number of other monks were living the communal life with Sergius although they soon learned that living the communal life was much more difficult than living as hermits. It was only the selfless conduct of St. Sergius that held them together. Thus began the monastery of the Holy Trinity — to whom Sergius was devoted — the first of approx. 40 monasteries founded by him and his disciples, “in the most impracticable places”.

Sergius was perhaps best known for his humility. He only became a priest and abbot of his community after continued persuasion by his monks and much later when the Metropolitan of Moscow & principal bishop of the Russian Church asked him to be his successor, he flatly refused saying: “Who am I but a sinner and the least of men.”Sometime after the death of St. Sergius, his original wooden church of the Holy Trinity burnt down and was replaced in 1422 by a white stone church for which Andrei Rublev did much of the iconographic work, including his most famous Holy Trinity icon which you see in front of the altar.

The readings for today were well chosen for St. Sergius. The first reading from Sirach talks about seeking wisdom, rising early to seek the Lord, opening one’s mouth in prayer and asking pardon for one’s sins. These are important qualities for all monastics — well, some might disagree with me about “rising early” to seek the Lord but Sr. Rhonda is an early riser. What is true is that as Sisters, prayer is our primary vocation. We believe that our ministry must be upheld, informed and permeated by prayer. The most essential aspect of our daily personal prayer is listening, opening ourselves to God to discern God’s will for us both individually and corporately. Prayer is not intended to make us feel comfortable (although there will be times of consolation). Prayer is meant to challenge us and open us to God’s transforming love and, as you know, being transformed is not comfortable. As monastics, we keep trying to open ourselves to what God is calling us to be in the depths of our being. Discernment never ends. Today God might be challenging me to be more patient or more understand- ing; tomorrow something may happen which is challenging me to be more forgiving, and next month I may feel called to let go of resentment or of controlling others or of some other weakness God has uncovered in me.

The desire for wisdom and a deeper relationship with God involves journeying more deeply into ourselves — seeking the true Self which God created us to be without any of the masks we’ve all learned to wear to protect ourselves from being hurt by others. We have no idea where that journey is going to take us. Just as St. Sergius moved out into the deep forest 45 miles NE of Moscow to seek God and found an area of wilderness, extreme poverty, and frightening creatures, so when we seek a deeper relationship with God and with ourselves, we too may find wilderness, inner poverty, and demons that we would rather run away from. But the only way to deal with those inner demons or fears is to face them in a safe place.

We may feel inadequate, believing that we have nothing to give: “Why would God call me to this life?” We will definitely be challenged by the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, in different ways at different times. Poverty will mean something different to each one us. Is it giving up my freedom to travel or to buy a Starbucks coffee whenever I feel like it or to take someone out for a meal? Am I ready to give up a one-on-one relationship with someone and thus be open to “to love the world for the sake of Christ”. Am I willing to be obedient to the needs of my Sisters and to the leadership of this community, especially when I’d prefer to do something my own way. It is easy to see the vows only from a negative point of view, but the vows also free us to be the people God is calling us to be and to use our gifts to serve others and one another.

For the last few weeks I’ve been reading a book entitled The Emergent Christ by Ilia Delio. In her chapter entitled “the Inner Universe” she writes about the poverty of being:

“Poverty is not so much about want or need; it is about relationship. Poverty impels us to reflect on our lives from the position of weakness, dependency, and vulnerability. It impels us to empty our pockets—not of money—but the pockets of our hearts, minds, wills—those places where we store up things for ourselves and isolate ourselves from real relationship with others. Poverty calls us to be vulnerable, open, and receptive to others, to allow others into our lives, and to be free enough to enter into the lives of others.” (p. 124)

“On the level of human relationships poverty allows us to be open to one another, to receive and share with one another. Poverty is the basis of personhood because it involves kenosis or self-emptying. Only care for one another truly humanizes life.” (p. 126)

This is what each of us is called to as Christians and it is seldom easy. In Ps 34 appointed for today, the psalmist says, “I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth” (vs 1) and (vs 4), “I sought the Lord and he answered me and delivered me from my fears.” St. Sergius was first and foremost a man of prayer; that is what attracted others to join him. And prayer is about relationship — relationship with God — which in turn enables one to have good relationships with others. The essence of prayer and love is “presence”, that is, taking time to be fully present to God or to

whomever we are with. It’s about seeking to uplift others and draw the best out of them. Love does not worry about success but about being the best one can be. This is a challenge in whatever work one does and it is the challenge Sr. Rhonda experiences on a daily basis in her ministry in the Guest House. Some days, when everything is going well it may seem easy. But there will be other times when someone is being demanding or critical or a pain in the neck. Then, all she or we can offer is loving, compassionate presence.

The Gospel reading for today sums up the Christian life and the life of a monastic: “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Sr. Rhonda has found her treasure in seeking this deeper relationship with God and offering herself to God through service to God’s people; God has responded by giving her “more than she can ask or imagine”. May God bless you, Rhonda, as you continue your journey in the Sisterhood of St. John the Divine.

Sermon from Sunday September 1st, preached by Sister Debra

Let us pray, gracious God may the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight for you are our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

“For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves

Sister Debra

will be exalted.” The fact that this text appears with little difference at least ten times in the gospels suggests how deeply ingrained it must have been with-in the heart of the leaders and people of the early church. Without a doubt this would have been a constant theme in the teaching and preaching of Christ. It also would have been as revolutionary an idea in Jesus day as it is in ours.

We live in a world where personal achievement is what people strive for. We live in a world where people are rewarded for making it to the top and where getting to the top by any possible means, regardless of how one might do it and who one might step on, on the way, is not only tolerated, it is often encouraged. We live in a world where those who exalt them-selves are habitually rewarded and those who humble themselves are frequently either dismissed, pitied or viewed as objectionable.

In our gospel reading this world view is turned on it head. This morning we are reminded that those for whom the world would dismiss pity and openly ignore are the very ones whom our Lord teaches will be exalted ---- and subsequently the individuals who have power and see themselves as being entitled to the riches of the kingdom will be the ones who are humbled. It seems that a prominent theme for today is pride and humility.

All of our readings today follow this theme. Pride in Jeremiah might be understood as our insistence on digging broken cisterns for ourselves. Instead of looking to the wisdom of God in all circumstances we look to God when we are in trouble. When things are going well the temptation to rely on our own ideas and imaginings is more than we can resist and we give into it. That is, until the next crisis. So the cisterns we create for ourselves are broken. We need God in order to be whole.

In St. Paul’s letter to the Hebrews we are challenged to consider that true humility consists of a selflessness on behalf of others that is based in the eternal self-giving nature of Christ. We listen again to these familiar sayings, “Remember to show hospitality. There are some who, by so doing have entertained angels without knowing it.” Be content with what you have; for God has said, “I will never leave you or desert you; and so we can take courage and say, ‘The Lord is my helper, I will not fear.’ Finally, Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever, so do not be swept off your course.”

Do not be swept off your course? I believe I was swept a little off my course when I was preparing this meditation for today. Humility is a difficult attribute to talk about. Mother Teresa said, “If you are humble, nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace because you know what you are.” One of the challenges that I have been faced with as a Sister of St. John the Divine is discovering who I am. I am learning that as I discover who I am, that is the person God has created me to be, the need to rely on others opinions about who I am is lessening. It may be that there is a relationship between ones sense of personal internal security and pride and humility. I need to think more about this.

I believe that what Mother Teresa was talking about and what Jesus is encouraging us to imitate can be observed in the following story. Robert Roberts writes about a fourth grade class in which the teacher introduced a game called "balloon stomp." A balloon was tied to every child's leg, and the object of the game was to pop everyone else's balloon while protecting one's own. The last person with an intact balloon would win.
The fourth graders in Roberts' story entered into the spirit of the game with vigor. Balloons were persistently targeted and destroyed. A few of the children sought refuge in the corners and on the sidelines, but their balloons were eventually stomped just the same. The entire battle was over in a matter of seconds, leaving only one balloon inflated. Its owner was, of course, the most disliked kid in the class. It's hard to really win at a game like balloon stomp. In order to complete your mission, you have to be pushy, rude and offensive.
Roberts went on to write that a second class was introduced to the same game. Only this time it was a class of mentally challenged children. They were given the same explanation as the first class, and the signal to begin was given. But the game proceeded very differently. You see the only idea that seemed to get through was that the balloons were supposed to be popped. So it was the balloons, not the other players that were viewed as the enemy. Instead of fighting each other, the children began helping each other pop balloons. One little girl knelt down and held her balloon carefully in place, like a holder for a field goal kicker. While another little boy stomped it flat. Then he knelt down and held his balloon for her. It went on like this for several minutes until all the balloons were vanquished, and everybody cheered. Everybody won.
So often in our world, we tend to think of another person's success as one less opportunity for us to succeed. I know I have been guilty of thinking this way. There can only be one king or queen of the castle. Jesus encourages us not think in terms of winners and losers. Jesus encourages us to think about the person whom we are dealing with. We are to look for the best in everyone. Doing this is not a simple feel good activity. It is also not an easy thing to do. We seem to be wired with tendencies toward unhealthy competitiveness.

Jesus invites us to adopt a perspective that encourages us to think about one another and live with one another in ways that are life giving and life promoting. This way of thinking inspires us to look for the good in all we meet and in every situation. This kind of thinking when we act upon it can be as freeing as it is life changing, both for us and for all whom we encounter.

I would like to conclude with a prayer that was found in the pocket of a child’s coat discovered during the liberation of Ravensbruck concentration camp. Ravensbruck was a Nazis concentration camp built in 1939 where over 90,000 women and children were murdered. The prayer that was found says:
O Lord, remember not only the men and woman of good will, but also those of ill will. But do not remember all of the suffering they have inflicted upon us: Instead remember the fruits we have borne because of this suffering, our fellowship, our loyalty to one another, our humility, our courage, our generosity, the greatness of heart that has grown from this trouble. When our persecutors come to be judged by you, let all of these fruits that we have borne be their forgiveness.

May the generosity and grace of God guide and direct each one of us as we consider the place of pride and humility in our own lives. May we remember to show hospitality to all whom we encounter not only because of who we might be entertaining without knowing it but because as followers of Christ this is our first inclination. Amen.