Sunday, March 31, 2013

Easter Sunday, Year C

Acts 10:34–43; Psalm 118:1–2,14–24; I Corinthians 15:19–26; John 20:1–8

A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois on Sunday, March 31, 2013.

“HE SAVED OTHERS, NOW HE SAVES HIMSELF”
(Homily text:  I Corinthians 15: 19 – 26)
 
Standing near the cross on Good Friday, some who were nearby said about Jesus, “He saved others, he cannot save himself….” (Matthew 27: 42).

We noted during the homily which was given at our Good Friday service that this insult is just one of many ironies that are part of the events of Good Friday….In this accusation, the speakers acknowledge that Jesus had, indeed, saved others, even as they scoff at His seeming defeat on the cross.

But if we turn to the events of Easter Sunday, we can see that this insult is turned on its head…Jesus had saved others.  Now, His power to save is seen in His power to save Himself, as He rises from the dead.

We shouldn’t be surprised at this power…we’ve seen it before, in Jesus’ raising of the daughter of Jairus (see Mark 5:21–43 or Luke 8:40–56), and in the raising of Lazarus (see John 11:1–44).

It is the power to create, and to re-create.  It is the power over everything, including death.

We might wonder about Jesus’ disciples, as that first Good Friday took place….did they expect Him to be victorious over all His enemies, using the power they’d seen in His power over death to conquer and put to flight those who came to arrest Him?  After all, Jesus told His disciples that, if He’d asked His Father, He would have had twelve legions[1] of angels to protect Him.[2]

But the mystery of Good Friday and Easter, taken together, is that God’s power is held in check.  Yes, the Lord could have conquered and destroyed all of those who plotted against Him.  Yes, he could have taken on the Roman authorities and all their power.  During His trial, John tells us that Jesus told Pilate that “You would have no power over me, unless it had been given to you from above.”[3]  The power of God that was available is deliberately set aside.

It is as if an army has withdrawn from the battle line, allowing the enemy to advance and invade.

And so, taking advantage of the gap in those defenses, the enemy does advance, and seems to conquer and defeat.  If we look at Good Friday alone, Jesus’ death looks like defeat, complete and total defeat.

But, as often happens in the course of human conflict when an army deliberately withdraws from the battle line to allow the enemy to advance, so it happens also in the course of conflict between God and the forces of evil:  The enemy advances, only to be closed off and cut off, allowing that enemy to be defeated.

On Easter Sunday morning, the forces of evil are surrounded, cut off, and defeated.  They have overreached themselves, trying to seize a prize (Jesus) that is not theirs to have at all.  Never again with they ever have the opportunity to seize a prize that is not theirs to have:  That prize is Jesus Christ, and that prize is also all who are baptized into Jesus’ death, who have been raised to new life in a resurrection like His (see Romans 6:3– 1).

Jesus’ victory over death and the grave is our victory.  His rising from the dead is the signal that we, too, will rise with Him to new life.  No wonder that St. Paul calls Jesus’ resurrection the “first fruits” from the dead (see I Corinthians 15:20–22).

In a real sense, Jesus’ resurrection is a sort of “down payment”  for our own eventual resurrection…when this life is done, and we are ready to meet God our Father, then our own rising to new life will be complete.  But in the meantime, as we live this life, knowing that we have the guarantee of new life in Christ changes everything else, giving us a new perspective with which to meet the challenges of living, day in and day out.  For, as St. Paul says, “Nothing at all in all creation can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38)

Thanks be to God!

AMEN.


[1]   That would amount to about 72,000 angels…a Roman army’s legion consisted of about 6,000 soldiers.
[2]   Jesus’ comment can be found in Matthew 26:53.
[3]   John 19:11


Sunday, March 24, 2013

The Sunday of the Passion: Palm Sunday, Year C

Luke 19:29–40; Isaiah 45:21–25; Psalm 22:1–11; Philippians 2:5–11; Luke 22:14–23:56

A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois, on Sunday, March 24, 2013.

“GOD’S GREAT PLAN ENTERS HUMAN HISTORY”

Here we stand at the leading edge of Holy Week. 
 
The events of this week are, most likely, etched into our memories so well that we could recite the basic outline of what happened on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday without difficulty.

As we look into the week in front of us, giving thanks for the gift of the Holy Eucharist, the Lord’s Supper, on Maundy Thursday, and as we look with grief at the miscarriage of justice that took place on Good Friday, resulting in the Lord’s agonizing death on the Cross, and as we wait with expectation for the empty tomb’s meaning and impact to dawn on our consciousness once again, may we consider the trajectory of this week’s events from the perspective of the human drama that was involved, and from the perspective of God’s great and powerful plan?  For the human drama and the divine plan meet on Good Friday, and are carried to their resolution on Easter Sunday.

So, let’s consider, first of all, the human drama, the human events, which lead us to the hill of Calvary:
  • It seems clear, both from a reading of the Scriptures and from secular historical sources such as the first century historian Josephus, that life in the Holy Land in the first century was a precarious and often violent existence.  (The recent miniseries “The Bible”, shown on the History Channel, brings out this reality quite well.)  People living in that land were subject to the whims of those in power:  The puppet king, Herod, or the Roman governors (such as Pontius Pilate), could alter or even destroy the livelihoods and even the lives of many, simply by telling their troops to carry out their wishes.

  • Given  these realities, especially the reality of the Roman occupation, it wasn’t surprising that the Jewish people hated their occupiers, and tried, more than once, to cast off the yoke of Roman slavery.  Consequently, the Romans viewed with suspicion and alarm any mass gathering of people, fearing that such a critical mass of people could turn into an unmanageable mob.  The usual response, rooted in such fears, was a violent and heavy-handed treatment of anyone who dared to challenge Roman rule.

  • The Romans tolerated the Jewish religion, even if they didn’t understand it.  They allowed a puppet king, Herod, to rule, and they allowed Jews to manage their own religious affairs, through the priestly caste that operated the temple, and through the governing council called the Sanhedrin.  These ruling entities viewed threats to their position and authority with alarm, much as the Romans did.  One reason for this is that, in the Scriptures and elsewhere, the image that has been handed down to us is one in which there were a goodly number threats to the status quo of power in the form of itinerant preachers, would-be prophets and even leaders of the revolutionary sect called the Zealots (who wanted to overthrow Roman rule by force) who wandered the countryside, and sometimes made their way to Jerusalem.

  • The great festivals (such as Passover) tended to attract large crowds, for the expectation was, in those days, that anyone who was able to travel to Jerusalem for these observances was expected to attend.
  • And so the basic ingredients of the showdown that took place between Jesus, the Sanhedrin and the Chief Priests, and the Romans are in place:  The Passover festival meant that Jerusalem would be full of pilgrims, and the Jewish and the Roman authorities would be on edge.  Jesus then makes His triumphal entry into the Holy City, to the cries of a large crown who hail Him as “the Son of David”.  Once inside the  Temple, Jesus overturns the tables of the moneychangers, provoking a confrontation with the Temple authorities.
  • Sadly, the trajectory from this point forward is predictable enough:  A challenger appears from outside the Jewish establishment, provoking a direct challenge to the position and power of that establishment.  Once threatened, that establishment is able to seek the cooperation of the Roman governor to eliminate the threat.  Sadly, what happened on Good Friday to our Lord probably wasn’t all that uncommon an occurrence. 
From a human point-of-view, then, what we have in the Scriptural accounts of Jesus’ trial, passion, and death, is a shapshot of Roman justice (?) in action.  Roman justice was swift and harsh….consider the fact that, from the time that Jesus appeared before Pilate, until the time He was stretched out on the Cross, only a matter of a few hours had elapsed.

That Jesus lived on the Cross for about six hours is, by contemporary accounts, a short time for a victim of crucifixion to be alive under those conditions.  Most victims lived a matter of days before expiring.  (Perhaps – and this is only my own personal theory – the fact that Jesus had been scourged before being crucified shortened the time before death.  Though the Scriptures do not tell us so, I suspect that the two thieves were not scourged, and that may be because Pilate decided to round up these two and send them out with Jesus, so as not to make it appear that he was singling Jesus out.)

And so, from a human perspective, the events of Good Friday are a depiction of the political and social realities of life under Roman occupation 2,000 years ago.

But what makes the difference for us as we remember these horrible events, given that they were typical occurrences of the time?

The difference is that God’s great plan is at work.  It is a plan we see most clearly from the perspective of Easter Sunday.

For when the disciples discover the empty tomb, and when they encounter the risen Lord, whose hands and feet still bear the marks of the nails, the risen Lord who asks them for something to eat, the risen Lord who encourages them to touch Him and to see that He has flesh and blood, and is not a ghost, that same risen Lord who now has conquered the last and great enemy, which is death, then those first disciples and we, the Lord’s contemporary disciples, see that God has done battle with the powers of evil, engaging those powers on their own turf.  The victory has been total and complete.

It is this perspective that impels us to observe the events of this week, sitting with the Lord at His Last Supper, standing beneath the Cross on Good Friday, waiting in the darkness of Easter night as we keep vigil beside the tomb, and as we greet with joy the evidence that the Lord, indeed, is risen from the dead.

So, come, walk with the Lord this week, as we make our way forward, knowing that thankfulness will be our companion on Maundy Thursday, that sorrow will be our lot on Good Friday, and that unspeakable joy will greet us on Easter Sunday morning.

Thanks be to God!

AMEN.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Lent 5, Year C

Isaiah 43:16–21; Psalm 126; Philippians 3:4b–14; John 12:1-8

A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at  Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois on Sunday, March 17, 2013.
“LOSING IT ALL, IN ORDER TO GAIN IT ALL”
(Homily text:  Philippians 3:4b– 4)

In our epistle reading for this morning, St. Paul lays out his Jewish pedigree, his curriculum vitae:[1]  He says that he “was circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin; a Hebrew of Hebrews, as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless.”

The list piles up like a stack of blocks.  As Paul adds each block, each credit to his name, he seems to be placing himself on top of each new addition.  And as the stack of blocks grows higher and higher, the implication seems to be that he is getting closer and closer to God.

Notice the list more closely….it proceeds from his birth forward, through the rites which make him a child of the covenant of Abraham (circumcision), to the pedigree of his blood lines and ancestry (of the tribe of Benjamin), to his life under  the Law, to his high office as a Pharisee, to his carrying out of that office (a persecutor of the church in pursuit of the goal of keeping Judaism pure), and to his righteous behavior under the Law of Moses, a righteousness that is so correct and complete that his righteousness is (in his own estimation) completely blameless.

Wow!

As we look at Paul’s list again, we see that he was given extraordinary gifts (being born a Jew of the tribe of Benjamin, a Jew who was initiated into the covenant of Abraham through circumcision).  We then see that he says that he took those gifts and made something out of them (being a Pharisee, a persecutor of the church, having a righteousness under the Law that is perfect).

Paul seems to be saying, “I was a self-made man!”
 
But as we look again at the reading for this morning, we also need to notice that Paul says that he was the best of all.  Here is the way he precedes the list of his accomplishments.  He says, “If any other man thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh,[2] I have more.”  (Italics mine.)

“I was the very best of all,” that is a fair summary of Paul’s statement.

But then Paul says that he’s lost all that stuff from his former life.  He also says that it didn’t/doesn’t mean a thing, not anymore.

It is as if the Lord has knocked that stack of blocks out from under him.  The pieces come crashing down, and Paul’s carefully constructed tower of self-worth collapses under the power of Christ’s call.

If we remember Paul’s conversion experience, we can see this process at work.  Turning to Acts 9:3–6, we see that he is on his way to Damascus, in order to bring Christians to Jerusalem for imprisonment and trial.  Suddenly, a bright light shines from heaven, and Paul falls to the ground.  A voice says, “Saul, Saul,[3] why are you persecuting me?”  And Saul (Paul) answers, “Who are you, Lord?”  The voice responds, “I am Jesus, who you are persecuting;  but rise and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.”  Once he has come to Damascus, a disciple named Ananias is told by the Lord that Saul (Paul) is His chosen instrument to carry His name to the Gentiles, and that, in doing so, Saul (Paul) will suffer many things.

So, as Paul’s ministry unfolds, he does, indeed, suffer the loss of all things:  His former life and work, his former associations and friends, his wellbeing, and eventually, his life.[4]  All of these losses come about as a result of the call of Christ.

The call of Christ, or, as Paul puts it, “The upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

The power of God’s call in Christ compels Paul (and us) to acknowledge that we have no power of our own to bring about that upward call of God.  Earlier on in today’s reading, Paul says that he doesn’t “Have a righteousness of my own, based on law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith.”

We human beings are blessed to be made in the “image and likeness of God”.[5]  We are blessed with the abilities to think, to remember, to solve problems, to create.

But there is a downside to all these gifts and abilities:  We think that we can build ourselves up in God’s sight, building ourselves up by our own abilities and gifts.

Think back to the image of the stack of blocks that represents Paul’s biography and accomplishments.  He seems to be ticking off his personal list of achievements, implying that all these things add up to a life that ascends into the heavens of God’s righteousness.
It is a reality of the human condition that is as old as the human race itself, almost. Think back to the account of the building of the tower of Babel (Genesis 11:1–9). There, we read that the builders of that tower said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves….” The point of the account is that the builders thought they could reach God by building themselves a tower.

The early Church wrestled with this issue in the fourth and fifth centuries…A monk named Pelagius maintained that human beings had no need of God’s grace in order to bring themselves into a saving relationship with God.  Pelagius’ ideas might be characterized this way:  “We can do this on our own, by our own power.”

The Church of that time rightly declared that Pelagius, and the ideas that bear his name, Pelagianism, were heresies.  Heresies are selective, partial understandings of the truth, selective understandings which distort God’s intent.

St. Augustine of Hippo, the great bishop and theologian, spent much of his ministry combating the idea of Pelagianism.  It is Augustine that we must thank for articulating clearly the doctrine of Original Sin, which is the idea that each of us is born with the traits that we see in our first father and mother, Adam and Eve.  It was these two who tried to “be like God, knowing good and evil”[6] as they ate of the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden.  Their motivation was to improve their station and abilities by disobeying God’s commands.  Such a motivation lies at the heart of much of the human race’s attempts to build structures to God.

“We are all ‘fully-trained sinners’,” I am fond of saying.  That saying is designed to remind us that we all know how to do things that are unpleasing to God. 

If we remember that if we depend on building our own foundations of righteousness, that self-made structure is based on a faulty foundation, the foundation of Original Sin.  We are easily fooled by our own inability to see the ways in which we fall short of God’s desires for us.

And so we come back to Paul’s “upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”  In God’s call to us, true righteousness and a right relationship to God is found in the upward call of Christ Jesus.

That upward call may very well involve the loss of all things, as Paul says.  At the very least, that upward call will involve a changed relationship with many of the things we previously thought were important to our identity and to our claims of self-importance and self-righteousness.

And this theme, of course, is one of the great themes of the holy season of Lent….Lent calls us to be willing to abandon all that we hold dear, and to allow God to sort through our lives and our expectations to show us by the bright light of His presence what must be lost, in order that we may gain a new and closer relationship with the Father through the righteousness of the Son.

AMEN.





[1]   Webster’s dictionary defines a curriculum vitae as “1.  A brief biographical resume of one’s career and training, as prepared by a person applying for a job;  2. The course of one’s life or career.”


[2]   Paul’s use of the word “flesh” often refers to the physical aspects of one’s life:  In the text before us this morning, the use of this word would pertain to Paul’s ancestry, his compliance with the Law, being being a Pharisee, a persecutor of the church, and his blameless lifestyle under the Law.


[3]   Paul’s former name.


[4]   Tradition tells us that Paul was martyred in the reign of the Emperor Nero, about the year 64 AD.


[5]   Genesis 1: 26


[6]   The serpent’s suggestion to Adam and Eve as he tries to get them to eat of the fruit.  See Genesis 3: 5.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Lent 4, Year C

Joshua 5:9–12; Psalm 32; II Corinthians 5:16–21; Luke 15:1–3, 11b–32

A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois on Sunday, March 10, 2013.

THE YOUNGER SON, THE OLDER SON, AND THE LOVING FATHER”
(Homily text:  Luke 15: 1 – 3, 11b – 32)


This morning, we have before us the very familiar Parable of the Prodigal Son.  Since this parable is generally known by this title, it is easy to overlook the important roles of the other two persons in the story….the loving father and the older, hard-hearted son.
 
At our “Step by Step into the Bible” session last Tuesday, we had quite a lively discussion about each of these three characters. 
 
So, have you ever thought much about the father’s role in the story, or about the role of the older son?
 
It’s easy to overlook these two others, isn’t it?  The commonly given title for the parable leads us to focus on the younger son alone.  This is aided, in my view, by the fact that Jesus begins the story with the younger son.  The father also appears in the story early on, but mainly as the person who makes possible the younger son’s folly by giving him the share of the estate that will fall to him.
 
At last Tuesday’s “Step by Step” session, I asked this question:  “Who is Jesus referring to as He talks about the younger son, the father, and the older son.?”  Another way of asking that question is this way:  “Did Jesus have an intended target as He told this parable?”
 
As we look at a passage of Scripture, it’s important to try to figure out what the meaning and application was for the first hearers of the story (or witnesses to an event).  We can also ask:  “What might this parable have meant to Christians at various points in history?”  As we study Scripture, it’s also important to understand what the meaning and application is for us today (after all, we don’t read the Bible with the same goal in mind as we do when we read the newspaper or a book).  And finally, as we read Scripture, we want to determine what the timeless truths of God are that lie within the sacred pages of the Bible.
 
All these of these goals are aspects of studying and applying God’s truths as we discover them in the Bible.
 
As I asked that question, “Who is Jesus referring to in this parable?” I think some in the class struggled to answer the question.  (Not surprising, of course, as we try to determine what the application and meaning was for the original hearers, and for the early Church.)
 
Just who did Jesus have in mind as the tax collectors and sinners gathered around Him, and as the Pharisees and the Scribes murmured?
 
I believe that the younger son represents those tax collectors and other sinners who’d spent much of their lives squandering the inheritance that God had promised them, just as the younger son did in Jesus’ parable.  The father who freely gives to both sons all that he has is God, and the hard-hearted older son is the Pharisees, the scribes, and others within the Judaism of 2,000 years ago who smugly claimed some sort of spiritual superiority because of their blood relation to Abraham and their singular claim to be scrupulous followers of the Law of Moses.
 
In due time, however, I believe that many in the young Church came to see the Gentiles as those who had been foolish in their beliefs and in their living, who’d come to faith in God the Father through God the Son.  (This is the point that I made in class last Tuesday.)  The older son still represents the Judaism of 2,000 years ago, with its reliance on the strict observance of the Law and its abhorrence of anyone who was “unclean” by that Law’s definition (including Gentiles).
 
Before we consider the implications of Jesus’ parable for us today, we ought to list some of the important details of Jesus’ story.  After all, the Lord is a master storyteller. His parables are full of small-but-important details which merit our notice and our contemplation.  I offer these details to permit and encourage your own reflection on this very familiar parable.  Here is the list I offer for your consideration:
 
“Father, give me the share of the property that falls to me”:  In Deuteronomy 21: 17, we find that the Law of Moses dictated that the first-born son received two-thirds of the father’s estate.  Thus, in Jesus’ parable, the younger son got one-third.
 
Feeding swine:  Perhaps Jesus’ hearers recoiled at this part of the parable, for pigs were unclean animals by the standards of the Law.  Jesus’ point seems to be that the younger son had sunk to the lowest possible point in his life, becoming unclean himself by his association with these unclean animals.
 
When he came to himself”:  This is a sign that the younger son has “bottomed out”.  Apparently, the difficult and dire circumstances that the younger son finds himself in has caused him to realize the consequences of his free-wheeling lifestyle.  At least he knows where home is, and where help is to be found.
 
“Treat me as one of your hired servants”:  In ancient times, a slave was considered to be part of the family.  But a hired servant could be dismissed at any time.  So the son is asking to be restored to some lower status within the father’s household, a tentative one, one that is dependent on the father’s generosity and continued good will.
 
The expectant father:  Notice that the father has been waiting and looking for the
son’s return home, for the father sees him at a distance, has compassion for his son, runs and kisses him.
 
The younger son’s truncated confession:  An important detail in Jesus’ story is the younger son’s rehearsed confession.  In English, the younger son’s rehearsed confession is three phrases long.  But notice that, as the younger son faces his father, he can get out only two of the three phrases before the father interrupts him.  Apparently the father is very eager to receive his son back, so eager that he interrupts the son’s confession.
 
Relationship restored, but not the inheritance:  Notice that the father places the best robe on the younger son, gives him a ring and shoes for his feet, and throws a party for him, but does not replace the lost wealth of the younger son’s inheritance.  I think the point here is that the consequences of the younger son’s actions are not erased, even as he is forgiven and restored to a loving relationship with his father.  (An important point arises here with regard to past sin…The Lord forgives the sin as we confess it to him.  However, oftentimes the consequences of that sin continue to be present.)
 
I never disobeyed you”:  The older son’s characterization of his relationship with his father is one of duty, but not one of love.  Nowhere in the older son’s statement is there any hint of affection for his father, only adherence to the father’s desires out of a sense of grudging duty.
 
“Your son”:  Here a very important detail emerges in Jesus’ teaching…He says that the older son tells the father that the younger son isn’t “his brother”, but is “your son”.  The older son refuses to claim any kinship or relationship with the younger son.  This way of looking at his younger brother is consistent with the concepts of who is “clean” or “unclean” by the standards of the Law.  The way the Law was regarded in Jesus’ day demanded that there be no contact with unclean persons or things.
 
“Your living with harlots”:  The older son now gets specific about the nature of the younger son’s squandering of the father’s wealth…he has spent it on harlots.  Of course, in Jesus’ day, the tax collectors and sinners who’d gathered around Jesus to hear His teaching were often lumped in with harlots.
 
Now, let’s draw some conclusions from Jesus’ excellent parable for our own day and time:
1.     At any time in our lives, we can find ourselves on one side or the other of the circumstances of the two sons.  At times (if we are honest with ourselves), we have acted foolishly, squandering the richness of God’s love and mercy.  Perhaps we’ve done this in small, almost-unnoticed ways.  Or, perhaps we’ve done this in significantly damaging ways.  In either case, we fit into the category of “sinners”, whether our sins be small or large.  At other times, however, we might be tempted to think that we’re OK, and that we’re doing pretty well in our walk with God.  We might be tempted to think that, because things seem to be going pretty well with our lives, that we have produced that good condition by our own efforts, forgetting the power that God alone has to initiate change toward a holy life.  We might be tempted to look down on others that we think are spiritually unclean or immature, like the Pharisee in Jesus’ Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, who prays saying, “God, I thank you that I am not like others.” (See Luke 18: 9 – 14)  Here the issue becomes one of “smugness” of the sort we spoke about in last week’s homily.  And, like the older son, it’s possible that our walk is one of grudging duty, and not one of love and cheerful adherence to God’s commands. 
 
2.    The way home to the Father begins with honest self-examination and confession.  This is the beginning of the younger son’s return, as he says, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you.” There is no shortcut in this process.  Confession is the beginning of the process.  It always is.
 
3.    God, the loving father, expectantly awaits our return home.  Our wonderful Prayer Book affirms the reality of the Father’s anxious, expectant gaze….The Collect says:  “Almighty God, who art always more ready to hear than we to pray, and art wont to give more than either we desire or deserve:  Pour down upon us the abundance of thy mercy, forgiving us those things whereof our conscience is afraid, and giving us those good things which we are not worthy to ask, but through the merits and mediation of Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.  Amen.”  (Book of Common Prayer, 1979, page 182).
May God’s Holy Spirit enable within us the ability to see ourselves as God sees us, to make confession for the ways in which we have squandered His rich inheritance, to the end that we may be restored to a right and loving relationship with Him.
AMEN.                                                         

Sunday, March 03, 2013

Lent 3, Year C

Exodus 3: 1 – 15; Psalm 63: 1 – 8; I Corinthians 10: 1 – 13; Luke 13: 1 – 9

A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois on Sunday, March 3, 2013.

“WHAT TIME IS IT?  A TIME FOR REPENTANCE”(Homily text:  Luke 13: 1 – 9)
Last week, we looked at the matter of schedule, taking as our text the latter part of chapter thirteen of Luke’s gospel account, noting that Jesus seems to make clear that He is in charge of His own schedule.  We noted last week that He said, “I drive out demons and perform cures today, and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work.”

This morning, however, we back up to the beginning of chapter thirteen.  And here we see that the issue of schedule is once again in view.

Jesus points to the wisdom of knowing what time it is.  And specifically, His admonition is that we should know when it is time to answer to God for the welfare and condition of our souls….it is time to prepare for judgment!

But before we draw some conclusions from Jesus’ teaching, let’s look a bit more closely at this morning’s text.  In order to set the stage, we need to back up into the last part of the previous chapter, for the last part of chapter twelve is directly connected to our reading for today.

In chapter twelve, verses 54 - 59, Jesus says to the crowd that had gathered around Him, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, ‘It is going to rain.’”  He then adds another illustration, saying that, “When you see the south wind blowing, you say, “There will be scorching heat.’”  Then He adds that, when someone drags you into court, you would be wise to settle with your accuser on the way to your appearance before the judge, before it is too late.

Now, as we turn the page to chapter thirteen, we see that the conversation becomes more personal….Some in the crowd come forward and ask Jesus about some Galileans who’d suffered a horrible death at Pilate’s hands.  (It is worth noting here that no other ancient source tells us anything about this incident, though the history of Pilate’s ruthlessness would make this event a consistent part of his dealings with the Jewish people.)[1]

The obvious motivation for the mention of this atrocity is the common idea that, if these Galileans had suffered such a fate, it must surely be due to some horrible sin in their lives.  The idea back in Jesus’ day was that, if you lived a good life, followed the commandments, stayed away from sinners and other outcasts, and offered the appointed sacrifices, you would be spared such distress.  Confirmation of this mindset can be found in Jesus’ encounter with the Jews when He healed a man who had been born blind.  The Jews ask, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (John 9: 2)

But Jesus asks if those who’d asked the question thought that these Galileans were any worse sinners than all other Galileans because this had happened to them.  He then drives home the point, which is that “Unless you repent, you too will all perish.”  (Italics mine, of course.)

But Jesus doesn’t stop there…..Now, He mentions what might have been a construction accident, or perhaps some unexpected calamity, by mentioning the collapse of a tower that was part of the southeastern wall of the city of Jerusalem.  (As in the slaughter of the Galileans mentioned above, no other historical source mentions the collapse of the tower at Siloam.)

Here, we have an unexpected event, one that no one could have predicted, most likely.  And yet, Jesus draws the same conclusion from it:  Those eighteen who were killed were no worse sinners than others living in Jerusalem who also die.  Then He adds the admonition we heard a minute ago, “No, I tell you, but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.” (Italics mine, again.)

To underscore His point, Jesus tells a parable about an unproductive fig tree.  The fig tree has produced no fruit for three seasons, so the landowner decides it’s time to cut it down.  But the gardener intercedes, asking for just one more chance to save the tree.

Earlier on, we noted that Jesus had driven the need home by directing squarely at His listeners… “Unless you repent…” (Again, italics mine).  Now Jesus makes sure that His listeners understand that He is focusing His comments squarely at them, and at the entire Jewish nation, as well…the context for understanding that the intended target of His remarks is the nation comes from the context of the use of the image of a fig tree as a symbol of the nation.  We see the use of this imagery in the Old Testament.  We also see the use of the vineyard as a symbol for the nation, as well.  Specifically, the passage that comes to mind in this context is Isaiah 5: 1 – 7.  There, Isaiah says that specifically that Israel is the unfruitful vineyard, whose owner had come to, looking for fruit, but who found none.  Isaiah comes to the conclusion that God will do away with His vineyard, because it is unfruitful.

As the title of this homily suggests, we began our consideration of the text before us this morning by asking the question, “What time is it?”  The obvious answer, rising out of Jesus’ teaching, is:  “It is time for repentance.”

The people who originally heard His demand, and those of us who hear it today, share a basic spiritual condition in common:  We both may be tempted to think that “We’re OK, we don’t have a need to repent for anything, or to change anything in our lives.”

We noted earlier in this homily that the people of Jesus’ day thought that, if some horrible thing happened to someone, it was because that person had done something that was really sinful and bad.  (Recall the question that the Jews asked about the man born blind, cited earlier.)

We also noted that the common mindset of Jesus’ day was that, if a person followed the commandments, did the appointed sacrifices, and scrupulously followed the requirements of the Law of Moses in one’s daily life, then there was no need to feel that anything else was required.

But notice that the short list I’ve just provided has to do with one’s outward and visible actions.  The people of Jesus’ day could point to their attendance at synagogue and the temple, their offerings of the required sacrifices, the fact that they stayed away from “bad people” (i.e. tax collectors, prostitutes and other sinners), the fact that they didn’t walk too far on the Sabbath day, or pick grain on the Sabbath day, or heal anyone on the Sabbath day, as proof that they were OK in God’s book. These are all outward, easily seen, actions.

It’s easy to come to the conclusion that such a mindset can cultivate a certain spiritual smugness.  Indeed, that’s the image we have of many in Jesus’ day…they were proud of their status as children of Abraham, proud of their identity as God’s chosen people, and assured of their relationship to God because of their adherence to the requirements of the Law.

But Jesus’ focus is on the inward disposition of the heart.

And it is in this way that we are, quite rightly, the targets of Jesus’ admonitions.

For though many of the ritualistic requirements of the Law have been set aside, we, too, can adopt a certain spiritual smugness, just as many in Jesus’ day seemed to do.

We might be tempted to create our own “short list” of reasons for our own spiritual superiority.  We might be tempted to think that we are OK in God’s sight because of the things we do.  (Feel free to fill in your own list here.)  But oftentimes our motivation for thinking that we’re doing pretty well is easily based on our own outward and visible actions.  (Again, feel free to refer to that list you’ve just compiled.)

However, Jesus’ point is aimed squarely at us….He says, “Unless you repent….”

AMEN.


[1]   The first century historian Josephus tells us much about Pilate’s character and behavior.  Pilate ruled Judea and much of the Holy Land from 26 – 36 AD, when he was removed from office by the Roman authorities.  For more information, see Josephus’ works The Jewish War and the Antiquities of the Jews.