Advent I - Year C

“REDEMPTION: PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE”
(Sermon texts: Zechariah 14: 4 – 9 & Luke 21: 25 – 31)
A sermon by The Very Rev. Gene Tucker, given at: Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois on Sunday, November 29, 2009.

“I have been saved, I am being saved, I shall be saved.”

Those words are ascribed to St. Augustine of Hippo, the great fifth century bishop and theologian.

They speak of God’s redemption of His people, in times past, in the present time, and in future time.

This theme, of God’s redemption in all times, is also present in the Collect for the First Sunday of Advent, which reads,

“Almighty God, give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, now and for ever. Amen.”

You’ll notice that I’ve highlighted some of the phrases, to show the past – present – future of God’s saving acts. Let’s look at those timeframes. They are:

Past: The visitation of Jesus Christ 2,000 years ago (“Thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us”);

Present: The time we are living in now (“now in the time of this mortal life”);

Future: When Christ returns again (“That in the last day, when he shall come again.”).

Now, notice God’s saving actions, referred to in the Collect (sometime obliquely):

Past: Jesus Christ’s coming among us was – in part – for the purpose of declaring God’s salvation to us.

Present: Protection through the provision of armor for protection,

Future: We rise with Christ to the life immortal.

The Collects of the Prayer Book are especially beautiful, and, they are especially rich in their theological reflections. (I often use them as the basis for meditation, for they are filled with scriptural allusions and quotations. I commend them to you for the same purpose.)

This Collect sums up the great Advent themes:

1. Christ’s first coming as a baby in Bethlehem, and His living among us as one of us,
   
   
2. Christ’s second coming, at which time God’s purposes will be fulfilled, and Christ will reign as King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

So Advent focuses on the past and the future, mindful that we are living in an in-between time between the two.

Advent also recalls that this in-between time is one of strife, conflict, sudden danger, battle and hardship.

Our Collect for today captures this theme quite well. Notice the words it uses: “cast away the works of darkness”, “put on us the armor of light”, “this mortal life in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us”.

Notice the battle between darkness and light. (It’s no coincidence that the daylight is fading quickly, now that we are approaching the winter solstice, that time when the daylight is the shortest. This cycle of nature is a reminder to us of the spiritual darkness of the time in which we live.)

Notice the appeal for protection: “Put on us the armor of light.” Armor is for protection in battle.

Now that we’ve mentioned the word “battle”, we need to turn to our Gospel reading for today.

If you are thinking that the overall tone of today’s passage sounds a lot like the one from a couple of weeks ago (Mark 13), then you would be correct in your assessment, for today’s passage comes from the same teaching of our Lord Jesus as was heard a short while ago from Mark. Recall with me that we entitled that passage the “Little Apocalypse” . Today’s passage is from Luke’s recordation of that same teaching, but the part we hear today is a little later on.

Still, Jesus’ words, as recorded by Luke, are filled with trouble, sudden danger, and terror. The words seem to burn in our hands, almost, as we read this text. We want to turn away from its images. We want to avoid its timeless truth.

(It’s worth noting here that our Old Testament passage, Zechariah 14: 4 – 9, contains many of the same images.)

Such images are the raw material of apocalyptic literature. Recall with me, when we considered the parallel passage in Mark, that we said at that time that apocalyptic literature contains both concrete references and images, and deliberately vague ones. Surely that is the case with the Zechariah passage, which identifies the location of the events it describes as being Jerusalem and the Mount of Olives. It is also the case with the Lukan passage before us today, if we back up to the beginning of it, at verse five. For in the earlier part of the passage, we can see that Jesus is referring to the Temple in Jerusalem (verses five and six), to its being surrounded by the armies of the Gentiles (verses 23b and 24), to a time of great trouble and distress.

“I have been saved, I am being saved, I shall be saved.”

Augustine’s words assure us, in the face of Jesus’ troubling pronouncements, of the surety of God’s victory over chaos, trouble, terror, and sudden death.

“Put on us the armor of light”, the Collect for today says.

“Amen”, we say. “Protect us”, we say. “Claim us as your own people when all is said and done,” we pray.

How can all these things be, these prayers of ours for protection and for recognition as one of God’s own people?

How can we know God’s salvation, God’s redemption, is near?

How can we “look up and raise our heads” as Jesus says, knowing that our redemption is near?

What evidence do we have of God’s ability to do all these things?

For the answers, we turn first to the past.

We turn to Jesus’ earthly visitation. Recall with me the dangers, toils and snares through which our Lord Jesus Christ travelled: Consider first the dangers of His birth: Mary’s difficult journey (some 50 – 60 miles) on the back of a donkey, nine months pregnant. Surely the possibility of miscarrying was great, given those circumstances. Then consider the circumstances of His birth in a place where animals were kept: no sanitary hospital setting here, but one of dirt, filth, and lots of germs. Again, the possibility of dangers to His health and to His life were immense. And again, consider the threat to His life from King Herod’s massacre of the baby boys in Bethlehem. Jesus could easily have been one of the victims of this crime. Then, consider His flight into Egypt, a long and arduous journey while He was still a very young boy.

All of these things could have done away with His life in short order.

But He survived.

His presence among us could have been snuffed out on the cross. After all, no one got off a Roman cross alive. Death was certain. And Jesus’ death was a public one, observable by all, confirmable by all.

But He conquered death and rose again on the third day. His resurrection appearances guaranteed God’s victory over the final enemy, which is death.

And so St. Paul can exclaim, “For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8: 38)

A little earlier on, Paul says that “In all these things, we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” (Romans 8: 37)

So, in Christ’s victory over all the powers of earth, of death, we have been assured that we are on the winning side, on God’s side.

“All well and good,” you might say. You might add, “But what about my life, here and now. What assurance do I have that God’s victory is present in my life?”

An excellent question, this one is, for we are not eyewitnesses to the things that Jesus did, to His teachings, to His defeat of the threats that came His way. We are not eyewitnesses except through the witness of Holy Scripture.

But it is the witness of those who were eyewitnesses to Jesus’ life, to His victories, that make us eyewitnesses through the written word.

Still, there is proof, if we look for it, of God’s presence and God’s victory in our own lives, if we are able to look for it.

I think of my own life history, and I can see that God has been present, even in the darkest of times. I can see God’s leading in the events of my own life. I can see God’s armor, protecting me.

Has life been easy for me? No, not entirely. There have been very dark and lonely times, times of danger and times of stress.

Every life has some of those times.

But God has been there, protecting, guiding, assisting, pushing, prodding, pulling, chiding.

I can say, along with the words to the great hymn “Amazing Grace”, these words,

“Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come.
‘Tis grace that brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.”

You see, I can safely say “I have been saved, I am being saved,” and that knowledge give me the ability to say, “I shall be saved,” no matter what comes along, for nothing can separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus my Lord. Nothing!

So, how about you?

Advent calls us to reflect on God’s saving acts, as they are seen in Jesus Christ’s life, death and resurrection.

Advent calls us to reflect on God’s saving acts in our own lives today.

And these two reflections provide the assurance that “we shall be saved” in the last and final day, when Christ shall come again in majesty and great power.

Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly!

AMEN.

Last Sunday after Pentecost, Year B

“KING OF KINGS, AND LORD OF LORDS”
A sermon by The Very Rev. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois on Sunday, November 22, 2009.
Proper 29 -- Daniel 7:9–14; Psalm 93; Revelation 1:1–8; John 18:33–37

“So, you are a king?” Pilate asked Jesus during His trial.

Ever thought about our attitudes toward kings? We Americans have a love/hate relationship with kings and queens, don’t we.

If we consider those attitudes, we’d have to admit that we Americans are wary of kings, queens, and monarchs. After all, didn’t we fight a war way back in the 1700s to rid ourselves of one by the name of George?

And wasn’t it another George (Washington) who declined to be named king after this country had won its independence from Great Britain?

Don’t we have a certain resistance to having to deal with a foreign monarch? It was Teddy Roosevelt who said something like, “I’d just as soon bite a king as meet another one.” (I paraphrase.)

Similarly, we often question the motives and actions when an American president greets a king or queen, taking great pains to study their body language and gestures.

Yet, as much as we might resist the idea of having a king or a queen, we are still fascinated by them. Look at the amount of attention the Queen Elizabeth II continues to receive in news coverage in this country, as support for this assertion.

So today is known as Christ the King Sunday. It is the last Sunday of the liturgical year. The first Sunday of Advent is a week away.

Today, we consider the matter of kingship. Today, we consider how Jesus might be King of Kings, and Lord of Lords (a phrase which shows up in Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus”, and which is taken from Revelation 19:16).

We begin, then, with some consideration of what it means to be a king.

Two questions serve to guide our consideration:

1. Where does a king (or a queen) get his power from?
   
   
2. Where does a king yield this power?

Allied to these two questions is the matter of duration: How long does a king yield the power that he possesses.

All of these matters can shed light on the idea of Jesus Christ being King of Kings, and Lord of Lords.

So, we begin with the first question, the matter of power and its origin:

A king derives his power not from below, but from above. Allow me to explain: a king becomes a king by virtue of the station and the office of his father, who was also a king. A king is generally not chosen by the people in a popular vote.

A kingdom is not a democracy!

At one time, kings even claimed to rule by the authority of God, a concept which is known as the divine right of kings.

In a real sense, a king is someone who is above all others, unlike our president, who is one of the people, but who is elected to from among them and by them to hold the high office that he does.

The second question deals with the area and the people in which the monarch’s power is yielded. It has everything to do with the arena in which a king’s power is exercised. Without territory and people to be king over, a king has little real standing.

So we see that the two go together: king and kingdom (meaning land and people).

How might these two questions illuminate our understanding of who Jesus Christ is?

Applying the first concept – the concept of the origin of kingly power - to Jesus Christ, that of the origin of His station and His power, we see that Jesus is Lord because of His relationship to God the Father. In John 10: 30, we hear Jesus’ words, “I and the Father are one.”

“For I have not spoken on my own authority; the Father who sent me has himself given me commandment what to say and what to speak,” Jesus said (John 12: 49).

So the Lord Jesus Christ’s kingship comes from above. It does not come because we grant Him this position of honor (though we can grant Him a kingly position in our lives….read on).

Now, we turn to the second part of kingship, that of the kingdom over which the king reigns.

We noted a minute ago that a kingdom can be land or territory, but also people.

Where is Jesus’ kingdom?

This is a question that Pontius Pilate was deeply interested in, and it is the question we began this sermon with, as Pilate asks, “Are you the king of the Jews?” Pilate’s inquiry is based in political realities and power. His concern is for the primacy of Roman order and authority, and his question to Jesus seeks to ferret out any challenge to Roman power and authority.

Indeed, if we recall the sequence of events as Jesus’ trial progressed, eventually the crowd cries out, “We have no king but Caesar!”

But, in answer to Pilate’s question, Jesus replies, “My kingdom is not of this world.” (John 18: 36)

If Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world, then where is it?

Where is the territory of Jesus’ kingship? Where are His people?

Jesus’ kingdom is a kingdom of the heart. For it is there that Jesus seeks to be enthroned.

And everyone who allows the Lord to take up His place of royal position and power in their hearts becomes a subject of the Lord and a citizen of His kingdom.

At this point, we return to the matter of sovereignty. We said earlier that a king (or queen) occupies a higher place than his/her subjects.

We Americans balk at that idea, don’t we? We want to be sovereign, we don’t want a king, a queen, or any other person to have power over us.

So why would we allow Jesus Christ to become king of our lives? To do so would be to put ourselves under His authority and rule, to become a subject of the king. We would lose our power in the process.

Does the Lord offer us any compelling reason to allow our hearts to become the throne room of the Lord?

The answer lies in the mystery of the cross….Recall with me that Pilate hung a sign over Jesus’ head, which read, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews”.

In a real sense, we see Jesus’ kingship most clearly in the cross. Jesus’ kingship is of the servant/leader variety. For the Lord Jesus Christ comes, not to be served, but to serve (see Luke 22: 27), and to give His life as a ransom for many (see Matthew 20: 28).

So, the Lord’s kingship derives from His heavenly Father. It is His birthright. But the Lord’s kingship also derives from His own self-giving love, most clearly seen on the cross, by which He demonstrates His love for us, freeing us from our sins by His blood, and making us into a kingdom, to be priests to God for ever (the concepts contained in Revelation 1: 5b).

So the Lord’s right to be king comes from above, from His heavenly Father, but it also comes from His own self-giving love, most clearly seen in the cross. Jesus Christ has paid the price for our redeeming, and therefore rightfully claims to be King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

One final point can be made, and it has to do with the duration of the Lord Jesus Christ’s kingship. Earthly kings rule (generally) until they die in office. But the Lord Jesus Christ lives eternally. It is for this reason that He will be King of Kings and Lord of Lords for ever and for evermore, for He is the Alpha (the beginning) and the Omega (the ending).

Thanks be to God!

AMEN.

24 Pentecost, Year B

“GOOD NEWS, OR BAD NEWS?”
A sermon by The Very Rev. Gene Tucker; given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois; Sunday, November 15, 2009.
Proper 28 -- Daniel 12:1–4a,5–13; Psalm 16:5–11; Hebrews 10:31–39; Mark 13:14–23

The lectionary texts before us today, do they contain good news, or bad news?

All of them, our Old Testament reading from Daniel, our epistle reading from Hebrews, and our gospel reading, all of them have disturbing language in them, language which portrays strife, hardship, personal loss, struggle, warfare, and death.

From such imagery we want to turn away. But the beauty of the lectionary is that it forces us to turn our heads back toward God, who is the ultimate author of the Holy Scriptures, and particularly toward the “difficult sayings” that are before us today in His holy Word.

For the lectionary “holds our feet to the fire”, if you will. It forces us to deal with the “tough stuff” of living the life of faith.

Without this regimen, we might want to focus only on those passages that bring us comfort. But God calls us to a mature faith, to a realistic faith that recognizes that difficult times will come our way as individual human beings who are believers, and as the people of God collectively.

And the regimen of the lectionary also forces the preacher to tackle the challenges that texts such as those before us today present.

Before we consider the question we posed at the beginning of this sermon, let’s remind ourselves about the sort of literature we have before us in the Daniel passage, and in the Mark passage…..These two passages qualify as “apocalyptic” literature.

The word “apocalyptic” comes to us from the Greek (as you might expect), where it means, literally, an “unveiling” or a “revelation”. In the Old Testament, the latter part of the Book of Daniel is apocalyptic writing, while in the New Testament the Book of Revelation (which is often known by the title “The Great Apocalypse”) qualifies (hence the name of the book). But there are other apocalyptic passages in other parts of the Bible, as well, and the passage from Mark, chapter 13, is often named the “Little Apocalypse” by biblical scholars, for it has all the hallmarks of the literary genre.

So, we return to the question with which we began: “Do these texts contain good news, or bad news?”

At first glance, the answer would seem to be: bad news.

Consider the language Our Lord uses, which we hear today in our gospel text: “For in those days there will be suffering, such as has not been from the beginning of creation that God created until now, no, and never will be.”

“Suffering.” No one wants to suffer. In fact, our human instinct for self-preservation prompts us to turn away from anything that causes pain or discomfort. Failure to do so can threaten our welfare, even our lives.

The prophet Daniel portrays a time of deep trouble and anguish, saying, “There shall be a time of anguish, such as has never occurred since nations first came into existence….” (Notice the similarities of language between the Daniel and the Mark passages.)

Notice the theme of deprivation and suffering in Hebrews, chapter 10: “But recall those earlier days when, after you had been enlightened, you endured a hard struggle with sufferings, sometimes being publicly exposed to abuse and persecution, and sometimes being partners with those so treated.”

All three of our readings today pick up the theme of suffering. There’s no getting away from it.

And, so, the question then arises: “When will these things take place?”

The answer has to be: “Always.”

For, you see, deep pain, suffering and anguish were realities in Daniel’s day. They were present in the days of Our Lord’s earthly life (recall the realities of the cross, for example). They were present late in the first century when the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews was addressing unknown Christians in their time of suffering and loss.

Suffering, loss, deep anguish…these things have marked the journey of the people of God down through the years. A brief look at Church History will reveal the truth of my comment.

Life in God involves suffering, loss, and sometimes, even deep anguish. At no time does the Church (whose true identity is as the people of God, and not an institution or a building) enjoy a time of peace and tranquility, even if the challenges the Church faces are challenges of lethargy and complacency, for even in such times, there is loss and suffering, because the forces of evil are able to flourish when God’s people are “asleep at the switch”. (Do you sense that there’s a spiritual battle going on between God and God’s people and the forces of evil? If so, you are correct in your understanding.)

So, it’s no wonder that apocalyptic writing often appears at times of deep stress and anguish.

So, would apocalyptic writing be God’s message of hope?

The answer seems to be “yes”.

Good news, indeed!

Notice the texts again, as we turn first to Daniel: “But at that time, your people shall be delivered, everyone who is found written in the book.” (Notice that the image of the Book of Life, a concept which is found in the Book of Revelation, also appears here.)

God will deliver His people!

That is the message, the good news.

Similarly, Jesus picks up this same theme, saying, “And if the Lord had not cut short those days, no one would be saved; but for the sake of the elect, whom he chose, he has cut short those days.” (Again, notice the similarities to the language we read today from Daniel.)

The central message of texts like Daniel and Mark, chapter 13, seems to be summarized in this passage, from Hebrews 12: 12, which says, “Therefore, lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees.” Why? Because, despite all immediate and outward appearances, God is still in control, and God will have the last and the final word.

Put another way, we could paraphrase this idea by saying, “No matter how bad or how hopeless things look now, we have only to see the ‘big picture’ to realize that God will prevail, and that, in the end, all will be well.”

One final thought….We need to address the question of “When will these things be?”

Jesus offers wise counsel on just this point. Though He seems to indicate a specific time of suffering, saying, “When you see the desolating sacrilege set up where it ought not to be (let the reader understand), then those in Judea must flee to the mountains….” (Again, notice the similarity of language to our passage from Daniel this morning.)

Here is a specific image, the “desolating sacrilege set up where it ought not to be,” and a specific location, “Judea”.

Tackling the first issue, what could the “desolating sacrilege” be? Perhaps some answers could be supplied, including these: The erection of a pagan statue by the Seleucid monarch, Antiochus IV, in 167 BC, is one possibility, another would be the plan of the Roman Emporer Caligula to erect a statue of himself in the Temple in 40 AD (he died before his plan could be carried out), or perhaps the destruction of the Temple by the Roman army in 70 AD, (during the Jewish – Roman War).

Citing the specific location, Judea, some have posited these answers to the identity of the “desolating sacrilege”.

We should note that apocalyptic writing almost always combines specific terms and imagery with deliberately vague ones.

So, the message with respect to apocalyptic writing must be, “tread carefully, and be willing to allow God to be God….don’t limit God’s power and God’s timing by a strict understanding of the timetable for His action.”

Indeed, Jesus warns us, more than once, in chapter 13, about such specificity….We hear one of the warnings in our text today…Jesus says, “..If anyone says to you at that time, ‘Look, here is the Messiah,’ or ‘Look! There he is,’ do not believe it. False messiahs and false prophets will appear and produce signs and omens….”

As Jesus continues, the purpose of these false personages is to lead God’s people – the elect – astray.

A brief glance down the corridors of Church History will confirm this reality. Many have come, false prophets they turned out to be, claiming to know the day and the hour of God’s acting. A few examples will suffice to prove the point: During World War I, many claimed that the battles being fought in Europe were actually the Battle of Armaggedon (see Revelation 16: 16). During the 1840s, a wave of Second Coming false prophets arose, claiming to know the day and the hour of Jesus’ return. In response, many followers of these false prophets sold everything they had and went to the hilltops to await the Lord. And in our own day, one only has to recall the sad spectacles of David Koresh or Jim Jones to realize that there are no shortages of false prophets in our own time.

But Jesus says, later on in Mark, chapter 13 (verse 32), “But of that day or that hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”

What are we to do, then, in the meantime? Jesus’ next words provide the answer: “Take heed! Watch!”

And, we are to live confidently in the assurance that God is in control, that God will have the final and the authoritative word over all the forces of evil, and that God saves His people, just as He has done from the beginning of time.

St. Paul expresses this hope quite succinctly in Romans 8: 35, where he says, “What shall separate us from the love of God?” Answering his own question, he then says (verse 38), “For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, now powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

AMEN!!!!!

23 Pentecost, Year B

“SWEET SMELLING INCENSE –OR- SMELLY ROTTENNESS?”
A sermon by The Very Rev. Gene Tucker; given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois; Sunday, November 8, 2009
Proper 27 -- I Kings 17:8–16; Psalm 146:4–9; Hebrews 9:24–28; Mark 12:38–44

Two odors rise from today’s gospel text: one is the sweet smell of incense, rising as a prayer to God. The other is the smelly rottenness of lives gone sour.

Of course, it wouldn’t be hard at all to figure out which is which, would it?

The sweet smell of incense rises from the life of the unnamed poor widow who puts her two small copper coins into the basin used to collect offerings for the Temple in Jerusalem.

The stinky, smelly odor of rottenness rises from the actions and the lifestyles of the scribes, who are castigated in today’s reading with the highest form of condemnation. Theirs is an empty, self-serving show. Theirs is the example of outward piety and religiosity, which serves only to mask the inner deceit that fills their hearts. Like a piece of rotten fruit that looks OK on the outside, but is spoiled on the inside, the scribes “put on a good show” with their long robes and their insistence on having the best and most honored seats at banquets.

(Our gospel text today is linked together by the word “widow”, so we will consider the actions of the scribes, who “devour widows’ houses” and the widow who puts all her wealth into the treasury.)

In order to understand a little better what Jesus has in mind as He comments on these two groups of people (I think the Temple must have been an excellent place to “people watch”!), let’s recall what we know about the society Jesus came into 2,000 years ago.

We begin with the scribes….these were educated men who not only knew the provisions of the Law of Moses through-and-through, but who were able to read and write (which was a rare ability in the ancient world). As learned men, they were, therefore, the interpreters of the provisions of the Law in many cases. They probably owed their lofty positions to their ability to read and write, and so were dependent upon the priestly caste at the Temple in Jerusalem for their positions and their economic well-being. So, we could safely say that they were “hangers-on” in a real sense. They’d climbed the corporate ladder of success that was in existence in those days, and so were happy to have all the perks of their success, including distinctive clothing, titles of respect, and places of honor at social gatherings.

In addition, the scribes probably acted as legal agents in some cases. In particular, notice that Jesus condemns their practice of “seizing widows’ houses”. What Jesus is referring to is a practice in which the scribes would act as a legal agent for a widow (who would have had little-to-no legal standing in the ancient world), but who would make off with the property, instead of protecting the interests of the widow. This practice would be similar to an attorney today who siphons off assets from an estate he or she had been hired to manage.

Now, we turn to the widow….The world and the society into which Jesus came was a “man’s world”. It was more of a man’s world in Jewish society than it was in the Greco-Roman world. Women had little social or legal standing. They were dependent upon a man’s ability to do things to earn a living, and to enter into legal contracts (notice the connection to the actions of the scribes, noted above). If a husband died, usually it was the obligation of a brother of the husband to marry the man’s widow (see the provisions of Deuteronomy 25: 5 – 10, which outline the procedure…this practice is known as “Levirite Marriage”, a title which comes from the Latin, where levir means “husband’s brother”). The intent of this practice was to raise up children for the brother. But it also had the ancillary effect of providing for the widow’s economic welfare, along with any children who were born to the marriage.

The text before us today does not tell us about the widow’s situation. We might assume that she has no husband because her husband had no brothers, but we cannot be sure about that. What we can be sure of is that she is not at all well-off, for she puts into the basin all the money she has.

The account before has everything to do with trust.

Or, we might characterize our consideration of the word “trust” by asking this question: Who or what did the scribes trust in? Who or what did the widow trust in?

The answers seem obvious, don’t they?

The scribes seem to be self-made men who trust in their benefactors and their success at climbing the social and economic ladder of Jesus’ day. They are gathering to themselves everything that their success in this endeavor will allow, including the stealing of other people’s wealth and well-being. They are entirely focused in on themselves. They trust in their ability to manipulate the system to their benefit. And, what’s worse, they do so under the outward appearance of religiosity!

They stink! Their actions and their attitudes strike our noses like the rotten smell of fruit gone bad.

By contrast, the widow trusts in God, for she has thrown her entire future in with Him. Once the two coins hit the bottom of the coffer, she is entirely dependent upon the Lord to provide, in much the same way that the widow of Zarephath was about eight centuries earlier (see our reading from I Kings for today). In that case, God’s test of that widow’s trust came in the form of Elijah’s request for the remaining flour she and her son had to live on. The test comes from knowing that, once the remaining resource is gone, trust in God’s ability to provide will be the hope she has to go forward with.

Now, life is like an odor, rising to God. Indeed, Scripture often likens the prayers of the saints to incense (that’s one reason we use incense in our worship, though we don’t often do so here at Trinity). The Bible uses the image of the sweet smell of incense rising to the nostrils of the Lord. Isn’t it a beautiful image?

Life can be a prayer, rising like incense to the Lord.

The way we live can rise like incense to God. Or, it can rise like the obnoxious odor of smelly rottenness, too.

Most likely, we know all-too-well what the smelly rottenness might entail. The scribes in our gospel text today provide a very clear model for us to avoid. Let’s be clear: the model the scribes provide for us has everything to do with an empty, outward religious show, a show that is disconnected from everyday, real life.

But what might the sweet smell of a life lived with complete and utter trust in God look like?

Such a life might entail regular worship which seeks to integrate our daily life with our worship life on Sunday mornings (in marked contrast to the lifestyle of the scribes!).

It might involve a complete change of heart about our attitudes toward our earthly possessions and wealth, including a willingness to “give it all up” for the sake of God’s call (recall with me the example of St. Francis of Assisi, who was born into a wealthy merchant family, but who turned his back on all that status and wealth to follow God’s call).

It might prompt us to re-evaluate how we relate to others, and particularly to their economic and social situations. Being specific, do we do all we can to improve the lives of the widows of today, the poor and the downcast, those who are without hope?

How do we live out a life of prayer that rises like sweet incense to God?

This question comes to us, and asks us to examine our lives closely in light of God’s holy word. AMEN.

All Saints' Sunday, Year B

“HALOES: MARKS OF HOLINESS”
All Saints’ Sunday -- Ecclesiasticus 44:1–10,13–14; Psalm 149; Revelation 7:2–4,9–17; Matthew 5:1–12
A sermon by The Very Rev. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois on Sunday, November 1, 2009

Look around the church this morning ….How many haloes do you see?

Now I won’t ask you for an actual, audible answer, for we might be tempted to say, “Well, a halo is a mark of holiness, of sainthood (remember all those stained glass windows and works of art showing the Lord, the Apostles, and the major saints – the ones with a big “S” – with golden haloes around their heads?), so I would certainly say that so-and-so in the congregation has a halo, for they are especially holy people.”

By that criteria, some people in the church this morning might exhibit some marks of holiness, of sainthood, that are easily recognized. By the same token, others might not, for their holiness may not be so easily seen. And, it might be embarrassing for us to identify some as being especially holy, and not others.

In truth, all of us who are baptized bear the mark of sainthood….For we have been “Sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism,” and we are “Marked as Christ’s own forever.” (Book of Common Prayer, 1979, page 308)

But what sort of a halo do we bear in this life? All of us, by virtue of coming into a personal relationship with Christ, the outward sign of which is baptism, are called to allow God to place a halo above our heads.

In answer to this question, we might back up for a moment to the image we mentioned a minute ago, that of the stained glass image of the Lord, the Apostles, and the major saints (again, those with a big “S” in front of their names). There, the haloes are made of gold, and as we all know, gold never tarnishes. (That’s one reason gold is so highly prized.) For the Lord Jesus Christ is the only one in this earthly life whose halo was made of gold. (The Apostles and other major saints now sport golden haloes in our artwork because their earthly courses are complete, and their holiness is now complete, as well.)

But these human disciples of the Lord sported halos that shone brightly at times, but were dull and dim at others. Consider the case of Saint Peter (notice, saint with a capital “S”): here is a saint whose halo shown brightly one moment, but was almost unnoticeable the next. At one moment, Peter’s atmosphere of holiness (which is one dictionary definition of a halo) was plain to see. One such moment was on the Day of Pentecost, when Peter delivered a powerful and moving sermon, a sermon so persuasive that thousands of his listeners were saved, and were added to the church’s membership. Wow! (See Acts 2: 14 – 36 for the text of Peter’s sermon, which stirs the heart, even today.) But, this is the same Peter who denied the Lord three times.

Aren’t we just like those early Disciples-become-Apostles? Isn’t our faith walk with the Lord just like theirs? Don’t we allow our holiness to shine at certain times in our lives with all the glimmer of gold, only to reveal at other times that, in fact, our haloes are actually made of brass, a metal that requires constant attention and polishing for it to resemble gold in some way?

That was surely the case with Peter. And, it is the case with us, too.

We’ve had a halo placed above our heads at the time of our baptism. “You are marked as Christ’s own forever,” we say. That means – when we make our solemn promises to God in the Baptismal Covenant (see the Book of Common Prayer, 1979, pages 304 – 5), we are promising to follow Christ, and to make the marks of holiness that were the marks of His life, present and discernable in our lives.

Consider the questions from the Baptismal Covenant:

Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and in the prayers?

Answer: I will, with God’s help.

Will you persevere in resisting evil, and whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?

Answer: I will, with God’s help.

Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?

Answer: I will, with God’s help.

Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?

Answer: I will, with God’s help.

Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

Answer: I will, with God’s help.

All of these questions have one basic premise behind them: We are God’s holy people (read: saints), by virtue of our baptisms, and our new relationship with God that baptism signifies. Based on this premise, the questions cited above all ask us to:

1. Seek God’s help in living a holy, saintly life,
   
   
2. With God’s help, to maintain the brightness of our witness to others.

So, we recognize in the questions above that there’s a possibility that we will be just like Peter: We will allow our haloes to become tarnished, even to the point of dullness that almost makes the halo we bear invisible.

Life will do that to us….For the pressures of life can act like fingerprints on brass, each small little encounter with the business of being a human being adding its corrosive effects to the glow of God that otherwise would be plain to see.

The Baptismal Covenant commits us to seeking God’s help whenever the brightness of new life in Christ that is ours is tarnished. We need to ask God for some polish, so that our witness to Christ, our holiness, can resemble the golden haloes we will someday wear in heaven. We cannot polish our own tarnished natures, we need God’s polishing agents, which are Holy Scripture, the Holy Spirit’s guidance, the faith community (that is, the Church), combined with an unwavering willingness to allow God to supply us with more polish, as we gather the stains that contact with the world will inevitably bring.

Now, today is All Saints’ Sunday. And on this day, it’s our practice to make a list of people we’ve known – living and departed – who are/were saints.

But, aside from the idea that these people we’ve listed were simply “really nice people”, what is/was it about their lives that marks/marked them as saints?

Put another way, in terms of the halo made of brass we’ve been using as a metaphor, do we see their sainthood, their holiness, most clearly in the ways that the tarnishing effects of being human were overcome with the brightness of God?

Oftentimes, I think, it’s the polishing and scrubbing that we allow God to do in our lives that makes the brightness of holiness most apparent. It’s in the victory over sin, over addictions, over seemingly impossible problems that we see God at work in someone’s life in marvelous ways.

Sometimes, the scrubbing is hard and deep. Sometimes, God has to bring large amounts of polishing compound to bear, and has to work at getting rid of the dullness and the dimness over a very long period of time, sometimes even for decades.

How has God been at work in the saints we remember today? How has He been at work within us?

Those two questions are worthy of our reflection in this coming week.

AMEN.