"HEARING AND DOING"
A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, Given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois on Sunday, July 18, 2010
Proper 11: Genesis 18:1-14; Psalm 15, Colossians 1:21-29; Luke 10:38-42
We begin this morning with a joke, a musical joke….
A man walks into a Brain Store. Once inside, he is greeted by the salesman, and they exchange pleasantries.
Eventually, the salesman asks the customer what he is interested in, to which the customer replies, “Well, I’d like to know just what you have on hand at the moment.”
With that, the salesman directs the customer to a small niche in the wall, which holds a glass container full of formaldehyde, in which is floating a brain.
The price tag below the container reads, “$100,000.00.”
The customer says, “Tell me something about the previous owner of this brain.”
The salesman says, “Well, this brain belonged to one of the world’s foremost rocket scientists.”
“That field of expertise wouldn’t be of much use to me,” the customer replies. “What else to you have?”
They go a little further, and the salesman points out yet another glass container, containing some grey matter, with a price tag of $250,000.00.
Seeing the price tag, the customer says, “This brain must’ve belonged to someone pretty important, right?”
Acknowledging the obvious, the salesman says, “Yes, this brain belonged to one of the world’s greatest and most skilled neurosurgeons.”
“Hmmm,” the customer says, “That field of expertise wouldn’t do me any good, either,” as he turns to begin to leave.
Seeing a potential sale begin to walk out the door, the salesman says, “Oh, sir, I do need to show you one more specimen, which is the highlight of our current collection.”
The customer is intrigued by this description, and is persuaded to follow the salesman to the back of the showroom, where yet another glass container sits in its niche, and the price tag reads “$500,000.00”.
“Five hundred thousand dollars,” the customer says, “What’s so special about this brain?”
The salesman responds coolly, “Oh, sir, you don’t understand. This brain belonged to one of the world’s foremost and most well known opera singers. This man’s name was a household word the world over.”
The customer says, “Well, how could this brain possibly be worth $500,000.00?”
The salesman says, “Oh, sir, you don’t understand…this brain belonged to a tenor, and it’s never been used!”
As we turn to our gospel reading for today, we hear the account of Mary’s sitting at Jesus’ feet, using her brain (and her heart), to understand the word (the Greek word is logos in the text, so the better translation would be “(Martha) had a sister who sat at the feet of Jesus and listened to his word”) of God as Jesus gives it to her.
Now, in the culture in which Jesus lived, women weren’t supposed to be able to use either their brains or their hearts to understand the ways of God.
In fact, there was a saying which circulated among Jewish men 2,000 years ago which went something like this: “Let thy house be a meeting house for the Sages, and sit amid the dust of their feet and drink in their words with thirst….but talk not much with womankind.” 1
The implication of this statement is clear: The things of God are the concern of men. Women are not to take part in these deliberations or this wisdom.
It is a mindset that seems strange to us today, doesn’t it? It is as strange as the concepts of who is ritually clean or unclean that we talked about in last week’s sermon about the Parable of the Good Samaritan.
Indeed, since we have mentioned the Parable of the Good Samaritan, this might be a good place to mention that these two incidents in Jesus’ life, his telling of the parable and the encounter with Mary that we hear today, are linked together.
For one thing, the two accounts follow one another directly in Luke’s narrative.
For another, the two accounts are tied together by the word “certain.”
Let’s unpack that connection just a little:
In the Parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus tells us that a “certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho.” Unfortunately, the Revised Standard Version (RSV) translation of the Bible that we use does not translate the Greek accurately, for it simply reads, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho.”
Likewise, in the account before us today, an accurate translation of verse 38 would read, “As Jesus was travelling, he entered a certain village.” Alas, the RSV omits the word “certain”.
So, the two accounts seem to be tied together by the word “certain”.
In addition, the two accounts are tied together because the hero of the parable and the heroine of the incident in the house with Mary and Jesus each turns out to be the unlikely one….the Good Samaritan in the parable is the one who “goes and does likewise”, while Mary is the one who has chosen “the good portion”.
The Good Samaritan isn’t supposed to be capable of the kind and generous act of helping the beaten man, and a woman isn’t supposed to be capable of hearing God’s word and receiving it in the manner of a teacher and disciple.
What we are seeing in these two accounts is a theme which is consistent throughout Luke’s gospel account: The normal, expected tables of expectation and behavior are overturned.
Put another way, this is a complete reversal of roles!
Biblical scholars have long noticed how fond Luke is of including incidents and teachings from Jesus’ life that turn our normal expectations upside down!
Another key theme which we find in Luke’s gospel is the prominent role that women play in his recording of Jesus’ life and teachings. Women are to be found everywhere in his writing.
Yet another theme which Luke seems to be fond of is the theme of eating and drinking. People are always eating or drinking, or are getting ready to do so, in Luke.
Here, we see Martha, Mary’s sister, getting into a tizzy (actually, the Greek seems to suggest that she is not only distracted, as the RSV translates it, but she is also getting into an uproar – a stronger word than the RSV’s translation of “troubled” - over the many tasks she is trying to manage in getting the meal before her guest).
What should we make of the incident we read about and hear today, and the one we considered last week? What are the implications?
May I offer the following for your consideration:
1. The kingdom of God is all about “going and doing likewise.” This emphasis on living out the Good News of God that Jesus Christ comes to proclaim has everything to do with practical, visible actions which benefit others, out of the mandate that stems from Jesus’ teaching as we hear it in the Parable of the Good Samaritan.
But, if the Parable of the Good Samaritan and Mary’s sitting at Jesus’ feet are, indeed, linked by Jesus use of the word “certain”, then there is also another implication:
2. The kingdom of God is also all about “sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to the ‘Word’.”
A balanced walk with God in Christ involves both doing and hearing. It involves practical action and the theoretical instruction which informs and motivates our action.
One cannot have one without the other. Writing later on in the New Testament period, St. James says this about faith and action, “But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if any one is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who observes his natural self in a mirror; for be observes himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But he who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer that forgets, but a doer that acts, he shall be blessed in his doing.” (James 1: 22 – 25)
And to underscore the point, St. James drives the point home in yet another way, saying, “What does it profit, my brethren, if a man says he has faith but has not works? Can his faith save him?...Show me your faith apart from your works, and I by my works, will show you my faith.” (James 2: 14, 18b)
Why are acts of love and kindness so important? Perhaps it is because it is in these sorts of things that others can see and notice quite easily that others will see something different about us. And perhaps seeing those acts of love and generosity, those with whom we come into contact will be prompted to ask why we give of ourselves so freely and generously. It is then that we can answer that we do so because of Jesus Christ’s example and command.
And that, dear friends, has everything to do with hearing Jesus’ words and learning from His example. For it is by hearing His words and learning from His example that we are guided in our actions.
AMEN.
____________________________________________________________
1 Taken from M Abot 1, 4,5. See Herbert Danby, ed. and trans., The Mishnah (Oxford University Press, 1933) 446, as it is reported in The New Interpreter’s Bible Volume IX (Abingdon: Nashville, 1995), 231.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
7 Pentecost, Year C
"THE WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN"
A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, Given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois, on Sunday, July 11, 2010
Proper 10: Deuteronomy 30:9–14; Psalm 25:3–9; Colossians 1:1–14; Luke 10:25–37
Last week, we recreated an historic service much as it might have been at Christ Church, Philadelphia, in the days following the signing of the Declaration of Independence.
This week, let’s open up our consideration of the very familiar Parable of the Good Samaritan with a story from the end of the Revolutionary War, that of the surrender ceremony at Yorktown, Virginia, in October, 1781.
On that occasion, and in accordance with the practices of the time, the defeated British Army marched past the victorious American and French armies. Their fife and drum corps band played a tune called “The World Turned Upside Down”.
I think the reason for the choice of this tune to march by is probably obvious: From the British point-of-view, how could they be marching past the Americans and the French, in surrender? After all, wasn’t Great Britain the pre-eminent military power of the world? How could it be that they lost? Isn’t that the world turned upside down? It most likely was, for them.
The world turned upside down….that’s the story of the Good Samaritan in a nutshell…
How could a hated Samaritan be the hero of Jesus’ story? How could a Samaritan be the one who did the “right thing” in helping the beaten, half-dead man who lay by the side of the road?
For Jesus’ Jewish listeners of 2,000 years ago, this was the world turned upside down.
Let’s look at the reasons why Jesus’ story is the world turned upside down.
We should begin by looking at the world from the Jewish perspective of 2,000 years ago, particularly as it applied to the Samaritans….
The hatred between the two groups stretched back centuries. In part, it was based on the racial impurity of the Samaritans, who were descendents of the peoples of the Northern Kingdom of Israel when it was overrun by the Assyrians in 722 BC. These remaining people intermarried with others who’d been settled there by the Assyrians. Thus, they were not full-blooded descendents of Abraham.
In addition, the Samaritans had a different holy site, called Mt. Gerazim, where they worshipped. They did not regard the Temple in Jerusalem as the place where people ought to pray (see Jesus’ discourse with the Samaritan women in John, chapter four, for some background on this aspect of the dispute between the two groups).
Finally, the Samaritans had a version of the Law of Moses which differed from the Jewish version. No doubt, the Jews regarded the Samaritan version of the first five books of the Old Testament as being corrupt, as well.
So it is that Jesus outlines a vivid tale for His listeners. Many of them might have been familiar with the terrain and the route that the road followed from Jerusalem down to Jericho. (If you go to the Holy Land today, you can still see some of the road cuts that made for perfect hiding places for bands of thieves.) The route stretched some 17 miles between the two cities, and it descended about 3,000 feet as travelers made their way east from Jerusalem.
For all the might of the Roman Empire, it couldn’t guarantee the safety of all of the travelers along that route. There simply weren’t enough soldiers to be everywhere at every time.
Jesus describes the actions of the first two travelers, ones that Jesus’ listeners would have assumed would have been the heroes of the story, in very glaring and disappointing terms. Jesus says that the priest, the first one on the scene, passes by the injured man on the other side of the road. Likewise, the second traveler, a Levite, does the same.
So, the two clergy flunk the test, don’t they? (Not a very flattering picture of clergy, is it?)
Then, the third traveler, a Samaritan, comes on the scene, but he is the hero of the story. He takes the injured man, binds up his wounds, sets him on his own donkey, and takes him to an inn for care and recovery. Not only that, the Samaritan promises to return to check on the man on his way back.
At this point, we ought to pause for a moment, and analyze what Jesus is saying.
We should analyze Jesus’ parable from the standpoint of who is clean and who is unclean. That is the say, this is a matter of ritual or ceremonial cleanliness or uncleanness.
The matter of who’s ceremonially clean lies behind much of the interactions between Jesus and his opponents.
Put another way, this matter of cleanliness or uncleanness can be put another way: It’s a matter of who’s in and who’s out.
Now, as we return to the parable, we can see that if the priest or the Levite had touched the man, who, presumably, is not only beaten, but is bloodied from his encounter with the bandits, then the priest and the Levite would have become ceremonially unclean as a result of touching the man’s blood.
This is an aspect of the story which might seem strange to us today.
But in biblical times, blood, and contact with blood, was a serious matter.
Contact with blood made one ceremonially unclean.
So, perhaps we could imagine that the priest and the Levite are on their way to some very important ceremony, and that there just wasn’t time for them to get “cleaned up” after having touched the injured man.
Surely, the ceremony is much more important than helping the beaten man, isn’t it?
One gets the impression from reading the four gospels that such a point-of-view must have been very common in Jesus’ day.
That attitude must’ve driven our Lord up a wall!
Now, as to the matter of being unclean, we should look at the Samaritan.
The Samaritan is ritually unclean, and, moreover, can never become clean, for he cannot change his DNA to become fully Jewish!
In addition, the Samaritan is an outcast on another account: He is in Jewish territory.
So, in a very real and important sense, the Samaritan is in the same condition as the beaten man, for both are unclean, both are outsiders.
Ever notice that it’s often those who have the least to lose who are doing the most to help others?
That’s the case here….the Samaritan risks his own welfare by stopping to help the beaten man. For, what if the robbers who beat the first man also took advantage of the Samaritan man’s focus on helping this other guy to beat him, also?
Moreover, when the Samaritan got to the inn, it might have been very possible that the innkeeper had a sign out front which said “No Samaritans allowed.” (Kind of reminds one of the tragic signs that used to dot business establishments in our own country which barred certain ethnic groups from patronizing some businesses, doesn’t it?) Talk about being an outsider!
Well, what’s the point of Jesus’ story?
As I reflect on that question, the following thoughts come to mind:
1. There are no outsiders in the kingdom of God: Barriers of race, class, culture and type all come crashing down with the arrival of the Good News of Jesus Christ. The early Church lived this out in its worship life together….for when the Church met in people’s homes for worship, a noble man or woman often sat next to a slave, and the two called each other “brother and sister in Christ”. To the stratified Roman culture, this was a scandal, and this unity in Christ was often the cause of persecution of the Church, for such a classless view of human relations was a threat to the status quo which existed in the ancient world.
2. Everyone is my neighbor: Jesus’ point seems to be that no person can be regarded as an object to be scorned, or to be used, for that matter. Isn’t it interesting that the man who posed the question as to who was his neighbor cannot bring himself to say that it was the Samaritan who was the beaten man’s neighbor. Instead, he says, “The one who showed him mercy” is his neighbor. The questioner isn’t fully in accord with Jesus’ teaching quite yet, is he? Jesus is willing to name the Samaritan for the goodness and mercy shown, but Jesus’ questioner can’t quite bring himself – at least not yet – to naming him in the same way.
3. Possessions can be a hindrance: The two men who should have helped the beaten man, who would have been expected to help the beaten man, didn’t. Perhaps that’s because they had much to lose by doing so. Prestige, position and authority were possessions that the priest and the Levite each had. Perhaps that prevented them from doing the “right thing”. Similarly, our positions, our prestige, our pride, or our earthly possessions can stop us from doing “the right thing”. We might place a higher value on all of those things, than on someone else’s welfare. We risk passing by “on the other side”, if we do.
Jesus’ words ring out, leaping off the pages of Holy Scripture, just as they did 2,000 years ago. He tells us, as He told them, “Go and do likewise.”
AMEN.
A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, Given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois, on Sunday, July 11, 2010
Proper 10: Deuteronomy 30:9–14; Psalm 25:3–9; Colossians 1:1–14; Luke 10:25–37
Last week, we recreated an historic service much as it might have been at Christ Church, Philadelphia, in the days following the signing of the Declaration of Independence.
This week, let’s open up our consideration of the very familiar Parable of the Good Samaritan with a story from the end of the Revolutionary War, that of the surrender ceremony at Yorktown, Virginia, in October, 1781.
On that occasion, and in accordance with the practices of the time, the defeated British Army marched past the victorious American and French armies. Their fife and drum corps band played a tune called “The World Turned Upside Down”.
I think the reason for the choice of this tune to march by is probably obvious: From the British point-of-view, how could they be marching past the Americans and the French, in surrender? After all, wasn’t Great Britain the pre-eminent military power of the world? How could it be that they lost? Isn’t that the world turned upside down? It most likely was, for them.
The world turned upside down….that’s the story of the Good Samaritan in a nutshell…
How could a hated Samaritan be the hero of Jesus’ story? How could a Samaritan be the one who did the “right thing” in helping the beaten, half-dead man who lay by the side of the road?
For Jesus’ Jewish listeners of 2,000 years ago, this was the world turned upside down.
Let’s look at the reasons why Jesus’ story is the world turned upside down.
We should begin by looking at the world from the Jewish perspective of 2,000 years ago, particularly as it applied to the Samaritans….
The hatred between the two groups stretched back centuries. In part, it was based on the racial impurity of the Samaritans, who were descendents of the peoples of the Northern Kingdom of Israel when it was overrun by the Assyrians in 722 BC. These remaining people intermarried with others who’d been settled there by the Assyrians. Thus, they were not full-blooded descendents of Abraham.
In addition, the Samaritans had a different holy site, called Mt. Gerazim, where they worshipped. They did not regard the Temple in Jerusalem as the place where people ought to pray (see Jesus’ discourse with the Samaritan women in John, chapter four, for some background on this aspect of the dispute between the two groups).
Finally, the Samaritans had a version of the Law of Moses which differed from the Jewish version. No doubt, the Jews regarded the Samaritan version of the first five books of the Old Testament as being corrupt, as well.
So it is that Jesus outlines a vivid tale for His listeners. Many of them might have been familiar with the terrain and the route that the road followed from Jerusalem down to Jericho. (If you go to the Holy Land today, you can still see some of the road cuts that made for perfect hiding places for bands of thieves.) The route stretched some 17 miles between the two cities, and it descended about 3,000 feet as travelers made their way east from Jerusalem.
For all the might of the Roman Empire, it couldn’t guarantee the safety of all of the travelers along that route. There simply weren’t enough soldiers to be everywhere at every time.
Jesus describes the actions of the first two travelers, ones that Jesus’ listeners would have assumed would have been the heroes of the story, in very glaring and disappointing terms. Jesus says that the priest, the first one on the scene, passes by the injured man on the other side of the road. Likewise, the second traveler, a Levite, does the same.
So, the two clergy flunk the test, don’t they? (Not a very flattering picture of clergy, is it?)
Then, the third traveler, a Samaritan, comes on the scene, but he is the hero of the story. He takes the injured man, binds up his wounds, sets him on his own donkey, and takes him to an inn for care and recovery. Not only that, the Samaritan promises to return to check on the man on his way back.
At this point, we ought to pause for a moment, and analyze what Jesus is saying.
We should analyze Jesus’ parable from the standpoint of who is clean and who is unclean. That is the say, this is a matter of ritual or ceremonial cleanliness or uncleanness.
The matter of who’s ceremonially clean lies behind much of the interactions between Jesus and his opponents.
Put another way, this matter of cleanliness or uncleanness can be put another way: It’s a matter of who’s in and who’s out.
Now, as we return to the parable, we can see that if the priest or the Levite had touched the man, who, presumably, is not only beaten, but is bloodied from his encounter with the bandits, then the priest and the Levite would have become ceremonially unclean as a result of touching the man’s blood.
This is an aspect of the story which might seem strange to us today.
But in biblical times, blood, and contact with blood, was a serious matter.
Contact with blood made one ceremonially unclean.
So, perhaps we could imagine that the priest and the Levite are on their way to some very important ceremony, and that there just wasn’t time for them to get “cleaned up” after having touched the injured man.
Surely, the ceremony is much more important than helping the beaten man, isn’t it?
One gets the impression from reading the four gospels that such a point-of-view must have been very common in Jesus’ day.
That attitude must’ve driven our Lord up a wall!
Now, as to the matter of being unclean, we should look at the Samaritan.
The Samaritan is ritually unclean, and, moreover, can never become clean, for he cannot change his DNA to become fully Jewish!
In addition, the Samaritan is an outcast on another account: He is in Jewish territory.
So, in a very real and important sense, the Samaritan is in the same condition as the beaten man, for both are unclean, both are outsiders.
Ever notice that it’s often those who have the least to lose who are doing the most to help others?
That’s the case here….the Samaritan risks his own welfare by stopping to help the beaten man. For, what if the robbers who beat the first man also took advantage of the Samaritan man’s focus on helping this other guy to beat him, also?
Moreover, when the Samaritan got to the inn, it might have been very possible that the innkeeper had a sign out front which said “No Samaritans allowed.” (Kind of reminds one of the tragic signs that used to dot business establishments in our own country which barred certain ethnic groups from patronizing some businesses, doesn’t it?) Talk about being an outsider!
Well, what’s the point of Jesus’ story?
As I reflect on that question, the following thoughts come to mind:
1. There are no outsiders in the kingdom of God: Barriers of race, class, culture and type all come crashing down with the arrival of the Good News of Jesus Christ. The early Church lived this out in its worship life together….for when the Church met in people’s homes for worship, a noble man or woman often sat next to a slave, and the two called each other “brother and sister in Christ”. To the stratified Roman culture, this was a scandal, and this unity in Christ was often the cause of persecution of the Church, for such a classless view of human relations was a threat to the status quo which existed in the ancient world.
2. Everyone is my neighbor: Jesus’ point seems to be that no person can be regarded as an object to be scorned, or to be used, for that matter. Isn’t it interesting that the man who posed the question as to who was his neighbor cannot bring himself to say that it was the Samaritan who was the beaten man’s neighbor. Instead, he says, “The one who showed him mercy” is his neighbor. The questioner isn’t fully in accord with Jesus’ teaching quite yet, is he? Jesus is willing to name the Samaritan for the goodness and mercy shown, but Jesus’ questioner can’t quite bring himself – at least not yet – to naming him in the same way.
3. Possessions can be a hindrance: The two men who should have helped the beaten man, who would have been expected to help the beaten man, didn’t. Perhaps that’s because they had much to lose by doing so. Prestige, position and authority were possessions that the priest and the Levite each had. Perhaps that prevented them from doing the “right thing”. Similarly, our positions, our prestige, our pride, or our earthly possessions can stop us from doing “the right thing”. We might place a higher value on all of those things, than on someone else’s welfare. We risk passing by “on the other side”, if we do.
Jesus’ words ring out, leaping off the pages of Holy Scripture, just as they did 2,000 years ago. He tells us, as He told them, “Go and do likewise.”
AMEN.
Sunday, July 04, 2010
6 Pentecost, Year C
“ONCE TO EVERY MAN AND NATION”
A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois on Sunday, July 4, 2010
Proper 9: Isaiah 66: 10 – 16; Psalm 66: 1 – 8; Galatians 6: 1 – 10, 14 – 18; Luke 10: 1 – 12, 16 – 20
Remember this old hymn? You’ll have to think back a few years, for it is not to be found in the “new” 1982 Hymnal at all….it’s in the Hymnal, 1940 (#519)
The urgency behind this hymn’s text fits well into our overall theme for this Sunday, as we recall the urgency of the decisions that fell to the Rector of Christ Church, Philadelphia, the Rev. Jacob Duché,1 and Christ Church’s Vestry and congregation, in the wake of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776.
For until the new nation became independent of Great Britain, Christ Church’s clergy and people had considered themselves to be faithful Englishmen and women who lived in the Colonies. They were members of the Church of England in those Colonies. They prayed for the King each Sunday, and their clergy – all of whom were ordained in England (for there were no bishops on this side of the Atlantic), took an oath of allegiance to the Crown.
The adoption of the Declaration forced these people to declare their own allegiances. In time, as the Revolution got underway, some Anglicans abandoned their previous allegiance to the Crown, and embraced the new Republic. Others – clergy and people alike – fled to Canada or to England.
But that’s another story, another chapter in the history of The Episcopal Church, which can be told at another time.
Let’s return to the choices made by Duché and others, and look at their actions in the days which immediately followed the signing of the Declaration, and at the impact on Duché’s life specifically.
Duché had been Chaplain to the Continental Congress, and so had had a visible role in the decisions that had led up to the declaration. Once independence had been declared, he met with Christ Church’s Vestry, and the decision was made to strike out the King’s name in every prayer where it occurred, and to insert prayers for the Congress of the United States instead. We’ve attempted to recreate this experience in our service this morning.
Of course, this action was regarded by the British as treason. Once the British occupied Philadelphia in September, 1777, Duché was arrested, but was released sometime later.
In due course, he wrote a letter to General George Washington while Washington and his troops were encamped outside Philadelphia at Valley Forge, urging the Continental Army to lay down their arms and to seek peace with the British.
For this action, Duché was eventually charged with, and convicted of, high treason by the State of Pennsylvania. His estate was confiscated. Forced to leave America, he went to Britain, where he became Chaplain of the Lambeth Orphans Asylum. He had gone from being a hero of the Revolution to being a traitor.
Eventually, he was able to return to America, in 1792.
We can see from this brief look at Duché’s life that he was forced to make difficult decisions in the face of the eventualities that came his way. First, he chose one side, then the other, each decision carrying with it some costs to him and to his family. The costs were personal, they hit home.
Since July, 1776, our nation has had to make many difficult and costly decisions, as eventualities at home and abroad have forced us to face the realities of the challenges that were placed before us.
Indeed, I think it’s fair to say that our national life can be traced through the succession of difficult decisions, which were followed up by decisive actions, that have unfolded down through the years.
Our national character can be seen in the decisions made and the actions taken.
In our own day, the difficulties we face and the decisions we make to face those challenges squarely, are often informed by decisions made by courageous Americans in times past.
This is merely to state the obvious.
But what is true in our national life and our national character is also true in our spiritual life and our spiritual character.
For as we walk the road with Christ, we made conscious decisions to go one way or the other, to choose one side or the other.
Our journey begins with our decision to follow the Lord in baptism. Even if we were baptized as an infant, we still make a conscious decision to affirm that choice that was made for us by parents or Godparents as we come to confirm our faith when we reach an age where we can speak for ourselves.
From then on, we make a series of conscious decisions to be on the Lord’s side, and not on another side.
Granted, most of the decisions we will make are not of the highly visible or momentous variety. Most of those decisions will be hardly noticeable at all to anyone other than ourselves.
Decisions such as: Deciding to be more Christ-like, more loving, to others, decisions to put our faith into action in some tangible way by helping others who are in need in some way (I think of the Youth Workcampers who came to Mt. Vernon this past week to work on homes whose owners were in some need or another), and so forth.
So, perhaps we could amend the text of the hymn we began with, and phrase it this way: “Again and again to every one of us, comes the moment to decide….”
May God assist us to make wise decisions, decisions that reflect the reality of the living faith that resides within us, each and every day.
AMEN.
_________________________________________________________
1 Duché was born in Philadelphia in 1737, and died there in 1798. He attended Cambridge in England, and was ordained as priest by the Bishop of London before returning to the Colonies.
A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois on Sunday, July 4, 2010
Proper 9: Isaiah 66: 10 – 16; Psalm 66: 1 – 8; Galatians 6: 1 – 10, 14 – 18; Luke 10: 1 – 12, 16 – 20
“Once to every man and nation, comes the moment to decide,
In the strife of truth with falsehood, for the good or evil side.”
Remember this old hymn? You’ll have to think back a few years, for it is not to be found in the “new” 1982 Hymnal at all….it’s in the Hymnal, 1940 (#519)
The urgency behind this hymn’s text fits well into our overall theme for this Sunday, as we recall the urgency of the decisions that fell to the Rector of Christ Church, Philadelphia, the Rev. Jacob Duché,1 and Christ Church’s Vestry and congregation, in the wake of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776.
For until the new nation became independent of Great Britain, Christ Church’s clergy and people had considered themselves to be faithful Englishmen and women who lived in the Colonies. They were members of the Church of England in those Colonies. They prayed for the King each Sunday, and their clergy – all of whom were ordained in England (for there were no bishops on this side of the Atlantic), took an oath of allegiance to the Crown.
The adoption of the Declaration forced these people to declare their own allegiances. In time, as the Revolution got underway, some Anglicans abandoned their previous allegiance to the Crown, and embraced the new Republic. Others – clergy and people alike – fled to Canada or to England.
But that’s another story, another chapter in the history of The Episcopal Church, which can be told at another time.
Let’s return to the choices made by Duché and others, and look at their actions in the days which immediately followed the signing of the Declaration, and at the impact on Duché’s life specifically.
Duché had been Chaplain to the Continental Congress, and so had had a visible role in the decisions that had led up to the declaration. Once independence had been declared, he met with Christ Church’s Vestry, and the decision was made to strike out the King’s name in every prayer where it occurred, and to insert prayers for the Congress of the United States instead. We’ve attempted to recreate this experience in our service this morning.
Of course, this action was regarded by the British as treason. Once the British occupied Philadelphia in September, 1777, Duché was arrested, but was released sometime later.
In due course, he wrote a letter to General George Washington while Washington and his troops were encamped outside Philadelphia at Valley Forge, urging the Continental Army to lay down their arms and to seek peace with the British.
For this action, Duché was eventually charged with, and convicted of, high treason by the State of Pennsylvania. His estate was confiscated. Forced to leave America, he went to Britain, where he became Chaplain of the Lambeth Orphans Asylum. He had gone from being a hero of the Revolution to being a traitor.
Eventually, he was able to return to America, in 1792.
We can see from this brief look at Duché’s life that he was forced to make difficult decisions in the face of the eventualities that came his way. First, he chose one side, then the other, each decision carrying with it some costs to him and to his family. The costs were personal, they hit home.
Since July, 1776, our nation has had to make many difficult and costly decisions, as eventualities at home and abroad have forced us to face the realities of the challenges that were placed before us.
Indeed, I think it’s fair to say that our national life can be traced through the succession of difficult decisions, which were followed up by decisive actions, that have unfolded down through the years.
Our national character can be seen in the decisions made and the actions taken.
In our own day, the difficulties we face and the decisions we make to face those challenges squarely, are often informed by decisions made by courageous Americans in times past.
This is merely to state the obvious.
But what is true in our national life and our national character is also true in our spiritual life and our spiritual character.
For as we walk the road with Christ, we made conscious decisions to go one way or the other, to choose one side or the other.
Our journey begins with our decision to follow the Lord in baptism. Even if we were baptized as an infant, we still make a conscious decision to affirm that choice that was made for us by parents or Godparents as we come to confirm our faith when we reach an age where we can speak for ourselves.
From then on, we make a series of conscious decisions to be on the Lord’s side, and not on another side.
Granted, most of the decisions we will make are not of the highly visible or momentous variety. Most of those decisions will be hardly noticeable at all to anyone other than ourselves.
Decisions such as: Deciding to be more Christ-like, more loving, to others, decisions to put our faith into action in some tangible way by helping others who are in need in some way (I think of the Youth Workcampers who came to Mt. Vernon this past week to work on homes whose owners were in some need or another), and so forth.
So, perhaps we could amend the text of the hymn we began with, and phrase it this way: “Again and again to every one of us, comes the moment to decide….”
May God assist us to make wise decisions, decisions that reflect the reality of the living faith that resides within us, each and every day.
AMEN.
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1 Duché was born in Philadelphia in 1737, and died there in 1798. He attended Cambridge in England, and was ordained as priest by the Bishop of London before returning to the Colonies.
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