Sunday, July 26, 2009

8 Pentecost, Year B

"ON SOLID GROUND"
A sermon by The Rev. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mount Vernon, Illinois, Sunday, July 26, 2009
Proper 12: II Kings 2: 1 – 15; Psalm 114; Ephesians 4: 1 – 7, 11 – 16; Mark 6: 45 – 52

There were three Episcopal priests in this rather large metropolitan area who’d become not only good colleagues in ministry, but close friends. Two of them had been serving different parishes in the city for quite awhile, while the third one was a newcomer to the area.

These three had had the long habit of having the same day off, and, quite often, they’d spend at least a part of their day off together, cultivating an interest that they had in common.

One day, one of the three suggested they do something quite different. He said, “Today, let’s go down to the lake and rent a boat and go fishing together. I’m a member of the club down there, and the weather’s going to be great for a day on the water.” So, off they went.

As the day went along, and the sun got higher and higher in the sky, the one who’d suggested the outing looked at the other two and said, “You know, it sure is getting hot out here in the sun. I think I’ll go in and have a nice, cool drink out by one of those outdoor tables there by the clubhouse.”

And, so, over the side he went, walking on the water, his feet barely getting wet.

After a little while, the second one said, “You know, I think that sounds like a great idea…I could use a nice, cold beer.”

And over the side he went, walking on the water. His feet, too, were barely getting wet.

And so, the sun got a little higher still in the heavens. By now, it was the hottest part of the day, and there wasn’t so much as even a small cloud to block the sun’s rays.

So the third guy – the newest one – sat there in the boat, looking at the other two, who seemed quite comfortable in their lawn chairs under the shady area there by the clubhouse. As he sat there for a moment, the thought occurred to him, “You know, these two guys don’t have a thing on me….if they can climb over the side of the boat and walk in there to have a cool drink, I can, too!”

And over the side he went. Except that, immediately, he fell right into the water.

As he splashed around, trying to get his bearings, the first guy put his martini down, and said to the second guy, “Do you think we ought to show him where the rocks are?”

In today’s gospel, we hear the account of Jesus’ trip across the water. Except that Jesus didn’t need any rocks to master the power, the chaos, the destructive power of water.

Let me say that again…..Jesus masters the power, the chaos, the destructive power of water.

For, you see, that’s the “bottom line” of the account we consider today.

This event is all about Jesus’ divine power over water, over its destructive force, over its chaos.

Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, we should back up to “set the stage” for today’s event, reflecting on the ancient world’s view of the created order. We begin with creation account as we have it in Genesis:

Separation of the waters and the firmament: In the Genesis account (1: 6 – 7), we read, “And God said, ‘Let there by a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters.’ And God made the firmament and separated the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament.”

And so, with this account, we see that the separation of the waters (above and below the firmament) was one of the first acts of creation (following the creation of light and darkness).

Separation of the waters and the dry land: Next, (Genesis 1: 9), we read, “And God said, ‘Let the waters under the firmament be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear.’”

Here, we see that it is by God’s decree and God’s power that the dry land (which supports plant, animal and human life) is made to appear out of the midst of the waters.

More simply put, God’s design keeps the waters in their place, guaranteeing the safety of all plant, animal and human life.

But, God also has the power to reverse this design, as we see in the account of the Great Flood (Genesis 6: 17), where God says, “For behold, I will bring a flood of waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh in which is the breath of life from under the heaven; everything that is on the earth shall die.”

And so, put another way, being able to stand on dry land means safety and life. Descending into the waters means death and destruction.

In the ancient mind, the waters were also were the place not only of death, but of evil forces. The mythical sea creature, Rahab (often encountered in the Psalms) was though to dwell in the midst of the sea.

Likewise, descent into the earth and the time of death was seen in a similar light. For the dead dwelled in a shadowy underworld beneath the dry land, a place often called Sheol, where no one praised the Lord.

This ancient worldview permeates the account of Jesus’ walking on the water, even as it permeates Jesus’ death and resurrection.

As Jesus makes his way across the water of the Sea of Galilee, He demonstrates divine power over the waters, walking as if on dry land. That’s the point (we’ll say it again): divine power is at work here.

And, in case we miss it, there’s another marker of the divine, and this marker of God is to be found in Jesus’ words, spoken to the disciples as He nears the boat.

Translated more literally, He says, “Take heart, I am; do not be afraid.”

Notice what Jesus says, “I am” (in Greek, ego eimi = “I am”).

Where have we heard this phrase “I am” before?

If you guessed that those were the words that Moses heard, coming from the burning bush, you are right.

There (Exodus 3: 14), Moses asks God, “If I come to the people of Israel and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” And God replies (in my own literal translation), “I am the one I am.”

(Alas, most of our translations miss this important point in translating Jesus’ words, for they translate Jesus’ words as “It is I.”)

Jesus shows His mastery over the sea, in much the same way that He had shown His mastery over the forces of nature, by calming the stormy sea (see Mark 4: 35 – 41) a little bit earlier.

To the early believers who made up the early Church, Jesus’ divine power was seen most completely in His conquering of the last and final enemy, the enemy whose power can swallow us up like a stormy sea: death.

Jesus had conquered death. He had risen from the depths of the earth, that watery and shadowy place which was regarded as a place from which no one was able to praise God.

The guarantee for all who had come to faith in Jesus’ victory over death is that, we too will also conquer death, by the power of Jesus’ victory, in which we have been clothed at the time of our baptism.

But along our way to that final victory, which is that time that we will see God in eternity, face-to-face, by the merits of Christ’s death and resurrection, we experience the power to conquer the forces of chaos that threaten to engulf us, as we live our lives day-by-day.

We see God’s power at work in us, giving us the ability to walk across the slippery sea of life.

We see God’s power at work in us, sometimes in very small steps.

We see God’s power at work in us as the small deaths that nibble away at life are conquered.

Relationships are restored: Husbands and wives rediscover each other anew, just at the time when it seemed that nothing would turn the tide of estrangement and distrust.

Old hatreds are overcome.

People who seemed to have lost their faith in God are restored to faith.

Addictions which threaten to engulf promising young lives are conquered.

These and many more markers are signs of God’s presence, working in us, with us, through us, to overcome the powers of death and destruction.

Thanks be to God!

AMEN.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

7 Pentecost, Year B

“OUR DAILY BREAD”
A sermon by The Rev. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois, on Sunday, July 19, 2009
Proper 11 - Isaiah 57: 14b – 21; Psalm 22: 22 – 30; Ephesians 2: 11 – 22; Mark 6: 30 – 44



“Give us this day our daily bread.”

If you’re anything like me, it’s probably been quite awhile since some serious thought has been given to the meaning of this line, from the Lord’s Prayer.

Why did Jesus include this petition in the model prayer He gave us to pray?

Ever wonder about that?

Let’s spend some time thinking about bread, and about the ways in which God feeds us, in our sermon time together today.

We begin, as we often do, with the gospel text for today, from Mark’s gospel account, chapter six, as we consider the setting for the event before us today.

Setting the stage for the miraculous feeding of the 5,000, we need to recall last Sunday’s reading, in which Jesus had sent out His twelve disciples on their first mission trip. Now, in today’s passage, we see that many who had been reached by these twelve men have followed them back to the Sea of Galilee region, where they congregate.

The pace is picking up in Mark’s gospel account…notice in today’s reading the mention that “many were coming and going, and they had no leisure, even to eat.” Word is getting out about Jesus’ teaching, and about His miraculous healings. More and more people are hearing about these wonderful demonstrations of God’s power, and they are responding to Jesus’ ability to heal their physical infirmities, and to Jesus’ teaching, which fills the vacuum of leadership that was prevalent among the Jews of Jesus’ day. Recall that Mark tells us that Jesus had compassion on the crowds, because they were like “sheep without a shepherd”.

And so, today, we find that Jesus and the twelve have what seems to be a minor crisis on their hands: how are they to feed so many people in this “lonely place”?

What ensues is the multiplication of five loaves, and the two fish. For the crowd sitting on the grass that day in that lonely place, it was their “daily bread”.

Now this miracle is recorded in all four gospel accounts. In fact, though Luke and John record only one such feeding, both Matthew and Mark record two such events, this one in which 5,000 were fed, and another feeding of a crowd of 4,000. Obviously, the early church took this miracle to heart, and the echoes of the meaning of this miracle continued to resound in the hearts of those early believers, and in the church’s collective consciousness.

Today’s miracle has connections to other times in which God provided His people with bread. It also has connections which stretch into the future, into our lives today.

Let’s back up then, and take a look back at another miraculous feeding, the provision of manna in the wilderness, as we find it recorded in Exodus 16.

Today’s event and the provision of manna are connected by the following themes:

  • Wilderness setting: The Greek word which is used to describe the setting (wilderness) is eremos, usually translated as “desert” or “wilderness”. Today’s text uses this word, translated as “lonely” to describe the setting for the feeding of the 5,000, while the Greek version of the Old Testament uses the same word to describe the Desert of Sin.

  • Bread is provided miraculously: In the Exodus account, manna falls from heaven. Here, in Mark, Jesus multiplies the loaves and feeds a large crowd. In each case, the bread is provided to people who did not labor for it.

  • Leftovers: In both accounts, there is an amount left over….In the wilderness, God’s people were able to collect enough of a surplus to last them through the Sabbath day, but no more (it was truly their “daily bread”). Here, we see that twelve baskets of food were left over.

But today’s event is also connected to future events. Here, we think of the Last Supper, and then, of the Holy Communion. These events are connected by the following structure of four verbs/four actions which describe the actions of Jesus in today’s miracle and in the Last Supper (and the celebrant during Holy Communion):

  • Take: Jesus takes the five loaves. At the Last Supper (see Mark 14: 22 – 25), Jesus took the bread and the cup. We do the same thing during Holy Communion.

  • Blessing: Jesus blessed the bread, giving thanks, we are told. In the same way, He will give thanks for the bread and the cup at the Last Supper, which we do as well every time we celebrate the Eucharist.

  • Breaking of the bread: Jesus breaks the bread in today’s action, as He will do at the Last Supper, and which we will do this morning together, as well.

  • Giving of the bread: Jesus gives the bread to the crowd, as He will also give the bread and the cup to the twelve at the Last Supper, and as is given this morning in the Sacrament of Holy Communion.

All of these events are tied together. The setting of the provision of the manna and the feeding of the 5,000 tie both events together in the theological and spiritual meaning of the two feedings. Similarly, the feeding of the 5,000, the Last Supper, and the Eucharist are all tied together by the actions of taking, blessing, breaking and giving, which continue the Lord’s feeding of His people until the end of time.

And, so, in today’s Gospel we encounter the God who feeds His people, even as God fed His people in the wilderness during the days of Moses, and as God will continue to do until the end of time in the Sacrament of Holy Communion.

Thanks be to God!

AMEN.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

6 Pentecost, Year B

“TO AFFLICT THE COMFORTABLE, AND TO COMFORT THE AFFLICTED”
A sermon by The Rev. Gene Tucker given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois; Sunday, July 12, 2009
Proper 10 -- Amos 7:7–15; Psalm 85:7–13; Ephesians 1:1–14; Mark 6:7–13


“To afflict the comfortable, and to comfort the afflicted….”

Maybe I ought to say that again: “To afflict the comfortable, and to comfort the afflicted.”

You might be asking, “What does this mean, and what does it have to do with today’s lectionary and our lives in God?”

Well and good, it is, to ask these questions.

Allow me to provide some answers:

  1. The preacher’s task: Is to afflict the comfortable, that is to say, to stir up our complacent hearts and dull minds to God’s truth as it comes to us in every age and at every point in our lives, is one task that the preacher must undertake. On the other hand, the preacher also comes, offering comfort to those who are troubled and afflicted, reminding them that God is present in their lives (yes, even in the problems, troubles and afflictions) and that God is still in charge, even when it seems that just the opposite is true.

  2. What does this have to do with today’s lectionary: Everything! Let’s consider our Old Testament reading from Amos, and our Gospel reading for today, from Mark:

Amos: Amos, the 8th century BC prophet who was sent by God from the Southern Kingdom of Judah to the Northern Kingdom of Israel , was sent to “afflict the comfortable”. His origin in the Southern Kingdom was already grounds for a rough reception. But Amos’ message made the reception he received all the more hostile.

Amos is sent by God to a people who were quite comfortable…Israel was enjoying a time of peace militarily and prosperity economically. Jeroboam II was sitting on the throne of the Northern Kingdom. He reigned from 786 – 746 BC. It was a time of sitting back, a time of enjoying the “good times”. Eat, drink and be merry! But Amos comes, bringing with him the chilly message that these good times would not last.

“And the Lord God showed me: Behold, the Lord was standing beside a wall with a plumb line in his hand. And the Lord said to me, ‘Amos, what do you see?’ And I said, “A plumb line.’ Then the Lord said, Behold, I am setting a plumb line in the midst of my people Israel; I will never again pass by them; the high places of Isaac shall be made desolate, and the sanctuaries of Israel shall be laid waste, and I will rise against the house of Jeroboam with the sword.”

Why did Amos get the unenviable task of delivering this message? Because, in Israel, the truth is that there was rank injustice which permeated the entire culture….The rich exploited the poor, and people dealt falsely and maliciously with each other. Yet, there was a veneer of respectability about the culture, for the nation’s religious observances were excellent, magnificent affairs. At least it was a good show!

And so, as a result of this pervasive wickedness, God tells the people through Amos that He is walking away from Israel. God tells them through Amos that, despite all the outward appearances of peace, prosperity and fine worship ceremonies, there will come a time when the sanctuaries of Israel will be no more, and a time when the kingdom will vanish. And so it came to be, in the year 722 BC, that the Assyrian armies swarmed into Israel from the north and the east, and the nation was swept away.

Amos’ prediction had come true. Amos, whose task it was to “afflict the comfortable” proved to be a faithful servant of God.

Mark: Having met with a chilly reception in His hometown of Nazareth, Jesus now sends out His twelve disciples on their first missionary journey. As they go, they are carrying a message of comfort, for theirs is the task of “comforting the afflicted”.

To understand how this was so, we need to remind ourselves of the conditions under which the people of Israel were living 2,000 years ago: Recall with me that the entire land (and much of the known world) was under the domination of the Romans, for the Roman Empire stretched from Spain in the west to Babylon in the east, from North Africa in the south to northern Europe in the north. Roman rule in Palestine was cruel, and taxation to support the occupying Roman army was extremely high. God’s people longed for the day of deliverance from Gentile, Roman control and occupation. Moreover, the Jewish leadership of Jesus’ day was corrupt and self-serving. Strict adherence to the minutest details of the Law of Moses was the order of the day.

Jesus, laments this situation (in a text we will hear next week, noted that the people were like “sheep without a shepherd”).

So Jesus’ disciples go out, two-by-two, carrying the good news, the gospel, of Jesus Christ, the good news that the Kingdom of God has come! Theirs is a message of comfort to a deeply afflicted people.

Amos and the Twelve go forth in response to the command to “go”. Each one carries a message that is appropriate for the circumstances of the people they are sent to. Each one either meets, or is warned about, rejection. Amos encounters it, as Amaziah (the priest of the temple at Beth El) says, “O seer, go, flee away to the land of Judah, and eat bread there, and prophesy there.” Likewise, Jesus warns His disciples that some will reject them and the message they bring.

Surely, as the Lord observed in our gospel reading from last week, “A prophet is not without honor, except in his own country.”

Well, turning to our situation, what should we make of these two aspects of God’s word, as we receive it, and as we are called to proclaim it?

As I ponder that question, the following answers come to mind:

God’s message will change as the circumstances dictate: God’s message to us isn’t always one of light, peace and love. (Admittedly, sometimes we wish – and even think – that it is, or should be!) No, sometimes God comes to “afflict” us with a message that nudges us to awaken to His truth. Sometimes, the message is jarring to hear. Sometimes, the message is deeply troubling at first hearing (but it brings comfort and health if we heed the message and the warning in order to amend our lives and come to live in accordance with God’s commands and God’s desires for us).

At other times, however, it’s just exactly God’s love, God’s peace, and God’s presence that we most need, depending on the circumstances.

God’s message can come from the most unexpected sources: Consider our two readings for today: Amos was a herdsman (a shepherd), and the keeper of sycamore trees, as we hear in our reading today. Moreover, he was a stranger from that “other” country, Judah, the Southern Kingdom.

Likewise, the twelve disciples form a most unlikely bunch to come bringing good news about God’s plan of salvation. After all, they were illiterate, working class people (for the most part). They certainly weren’t rabbis, or Pharisees, or priests (for the most part). They were the ordinary folk of their day. Perhaps that’s why Jesus warns them that they, too, will face the possibility of rejection, just as He had in the synagogue at Nazareth. Maybe some of the people who encountered these twelve, who travelled two-by-two, said much the same thing that was said about Jesus, “Where did these men get all these things? Aren’t they just plain folk?”

And so, God’s message comes to us in ways that we need to hear. God’s message comes to us in the most unlikely of ways, and perhaps from the most unusual of sources. (I can recall many times when the voice of God was contained in a passing remark made by a casual acquaintance, to cite but one example from my own life.)

For God will “Afflict us when we are too comfortable”, and He will “Comfort us when we are afflicted”, and all for His love’s sake and His high regard for our wellbeing.

AMEN.

Sunday, July 05, 2009

5 Pentecost, Year B

“ONCE…COMES THE MOMENT TO DECIDE”
A sermon by The Rev. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois on Sunday, July 5, 2009
Proper 9 -- Ezekiel 2: 1 – 7; Psalm 123; II Corinthians 12: 2 – 10; Mark 6: 1 – 6

In our old hymnal, the venerable Hymnal 1940, there is a wonderful hymn which was omitted from the 1982 edition, entitled, “Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide.”

The editors of the new hymnal, or – more properly – the theological committee of the editing group, felt that this hymn’s text incorrectly portrayed the decision-making process that our walk with God entails….They felt that there was not one, decisive moment in the walk with God, but there could easily be more than one.

Essentially, of course, our faith journey is a series of “deciding moments”, occasions which shape the future course of our life in God.

However, the importance of a decisive moment shouldn’t be lost on us. Sometimes, there are crucial moments when we are forced to make a decision about a critical issue, or to face a crisis, and we must decide, one way or the other.

Today, as we remember the situation that confronted our Anglican forebears, particularly at Christ Church, Philadelphia, following the Declaration of Independence’s adoption, we would do well to reflect on the definitive moment that they faced.

For they were all members of the state church, the Church of England, which was an extension of the civil government of the 13 Colonies. Their clergy were all ordained in England (for there were no bishops on this side of the Atlantic to ordain anyone here), and were required at the time of their ordination to take an oath of allegiance to the Crown. Moreover, the official worship book of the Church of England, the 1662 Book of Common Prayer contained prayers for the king, and for the civil government.

Once the Declaration had been adopted, Anglicans in this new, independent country faced a host of problems. Among them were: 1. What was to be done with the prayers in the Prayer Book that were required to be offered for the King? 2. Since many of the signers of the Declaration were either members of Christ Church, Philadelphia, or attended services there when they were in town for sessions of the Congress, they faced the same critical decisions about their allegiances as were posed by the prayers in the Prayer Book: Some – as the War for Independence progressed, simply left the Colonies altogether and headed either for Canada or for England. Others simply switched their allegiance from England to the new nation, mandating the changes to the prayers for the King that we have seen today.

Once the Revolutionary War was over, the Anglican Church in the new nation was in shambles. Many of its clergy simply fled the country, though others remained. Its membership, too, was also decimated in much the same way its ranks of clergy had been. There were no bishops in the fledgling church, and it took much of the decade of the 1780s to establish a minimum of three bishops so that an American succession in the episcopate could begin (against formidable odds by those in the new nation who weren’t members of the Anglican Church, by the way: they viewed attempts to land bishops on these shores as back door attempts to reassert British control over the new nation ). The background information provided with today’s service leaflet mentions the involvement of William White, who eventually became Rector of Christ Church, and who was also Chaplain to the Congress for a time. It was White who, once he had become Bishop of Pennsylvania, also took a leading role in formulating a new Constitution for the Episcopal Church in the United States of America.

Moreover, the church that remained carried with it an indelible stamp of “Englishness”, a stamp that wasn’t especially popular in the years immediately following the Revolution.

For, as we’ve seen, in those days, Church and State were closely intertwined. Many of the dilemmas faced by Anglicans in the late 18th century stemmed directly from that close connection that the Church had to the civil government.

Today, of course, the situation is entirely reversed….For though the Church of England remains the State Church in Great Britain today, in America, the Church is completely separated from the civil government. Our Bill of Rights ensures that this will be so.

But, the dis-establish clause of the Bill of Rights, which guarantees freedom of religion, has now come to mean – in reality – freedom from religion.

Ours is a secular society, through and through. And, in the years that I have been alive, the momentum of secular attitudes has picked up a quickening pace. Gone are the prayers that opened the school day of my childhood. Gone, too, is the daily Bible verse, read at the beginning of the school day. Gone are public postings of the Ten Commandments (for the most part).

In such a secularized society, the Church finds itself struggling to articulate its voice, and to bring the conviction of faith to the serious issues that face society today.

For, you see, ours is a day in which the old hymn’s words ring true for us: “Once to every man (and woman), comes the moment to decide.” The struggle to apply God’s truth to the world in general has not ceased, nor will it cease until the Lord comes again and the age we live in and know comes to an end, as well.

In the struggle to articulate the voice of faith, part of the battle we are engaged in has to do with maintaining an authentic voice of faith, for – as the hymn says:

“Then to side with truth is noble, when we share her wretched crust.
Ere her cause bring fame and profit and ‘tis prosperous to be just;
Then it is the brave man chooses while the coward stands aside
Till the multitude make virtue of the faith they had denied.”

As I reflect on this verse of the hymn, I have in mind that the General Convention of the Episcopal Church is scheduled to meet this coming week for ten days, beginning on Tuesday.

Alas, the truth must be said that many of the resolutions that will be considered there would have the effect of turning the Church’s collective back on the faith that has been received from the Apostles. We stand in danger of denying the truth as the Church has received it, has believed it, and has understood it down through the ages.

It is no secret that we live in deeply troubled and difficult times. In many ways, the struggles we face and the decisions we are called to make are every bit as difficult as those our 18th century Anglican forebears faced. In many ways, the decisions to be made are at once just as straightforward as theirs were, but in many ways, they are far more complicated, too.

The Church is no different than the secular society it finds itself in when it comes to troubles, problems and difficult decisions.

The essential question is “How does the Church preserve the truth as it has received it, and yet relate that truth in understandable and meaningful ways to an ever-changing world?”

Coming to a decision about that question has always challenged the Church. Many difficult periods in the Church’s history have revolved around this question.

And yet, it is in just such troubled and difficult times that the Holy Spirit is often the most active, preserving for God a faithful remnant of God’s people. We live in times just like that, times like those of the prophet Jeremiah, who foresaw the gathering of a faithful remnant of God’s people.

“Once to every man, woman and nation comes the moment to decide…” July, 1776 was such a time for our ancestors in faith in the new United States of America. Ours is a time of decision, as well, in which we are called to stand for truth as best we can understand it.

May God give us grace, wisdom and strength to make the choices that are ours to make in our day and time.

AMEN.