Sunday, March 29, 2015

The Sunday of the Passion (Palm Sunday), Year B


Mark 11: 1–11; Psalm 118: 1–2, 19-29; Isaiah 50: 4–9a; Philippians 2: 5-11; Mark 14: 1 – 15: 47

A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at St. John’s Church in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, March 29, 2015.

“WHAT IS DIFFERENT ABOUT THIS WEEK?”

            From the very earliest times, Christians have observed Holy Week with great devotion.  Pilgrims have walked the way of the Cross (the Via Dolorosa) in Jerusalem, or – if they were unable to do that in person and on location – they took part in a service of the Stations of the Cross.  Palm Sunday processions, like the one we did this morning, recreated the Lord’s entry into Jerusalem.  The institution of the Lord’s Supper, the Eucharist, on Maundy Thursday has been celebrated – often with the washing of feet – each year.  Christians have stood vigil on Easter Eve at the tomb, waiting the coming of dawn.

            Each Holy Week observance points forward to the end of this week and to the earth-shattering event that took place at the beginning of the new week.

            But, if we think about it, the things that happened during that first Holy Week consist of events that are radically out-of-the-ordinary (which is why we celebrate Holy Week in the first place), and events that were probably not all that uncommon in the first century.

            So, let’s take a  look at the things that took place as Jesus made His way into Jerusalem on this day, and as we do so, let’s distinguish those things that weren’t all that unusual from those that are radically so.

            The first thing we might look at is the great feast of Passover.  This is one of three major festivals (which takes place on March or April each year) to which observant Jews were expected to make pilgrimage to Jerusalem as often as they could manage to do so.  (In Luke 2: 41, we read that Jesus and His family went to Jerusalem each year for the Passover celebration.) As a result, Jerusalem was the focal point for a large number of people.

            Then as now, whenever large numbers of people gathered in one place, those in authority got concerned about security.

            There was good reason for their concern:

            In Jesus’ time, the Jewish people were divided into four main groups:  The priestly group called the Sadducees, the lay movement known as the Pharisees, a group known as the Essenes, and finally, the Zealots.

            The Sadducees were largely concerned with worship in the Temple, while the Pharisees were concerned about daily observance of every provision of the Law of Moses.  However, the Essenes were a group that believed that the temple and most everything connected with it was corrupt.  As a result, they withdrew from society.  One aspect of this withdrawal was their establishment of the Dead Sea community (from which the Dead Sea scrolls emerged.)

            But it was this last group, the Zealots, who probably caused the greatest amount of concern, for they advocated the violent overthrow of Roman rule.  Eventually, in the year 66 AD, it was they who would lead an armed revolt against the Romans, beginning the Jewish-Roman War.

            Rebellions in the outlying areas of Judea weren’t all that uncommon.  In the Book of Acts,[1] the famous rabbi Gamaliel relates the rebellions that were led by Theudas and then another one which was led by Judas the Galilean. 

            It’s possible that, as these movements made their way from the countryside into Jerusalem for the Passover, processions such as the one that Jesus made, riding on a colt, made their way into Jerusalem.  Perhaps the leaders of these movements were hailed as conquerors.  It’s important to note that the exclamation that greeted Jesus, “Blessed is the kingdom of our father David that is coming,” carries with it political overtones.  Naming David, the great king, amounted to a direct challenge to Roman rule. 

            Keeping the peace, and keeping a lid on things, was the main job of the Roman governors of Judea.  In fact, their job security depended on keeping things under control, by whatever means were necessary.

            The requirement to keep things under control caused the Jewish leadership, the Sanhedrin, to collaborate with the Romans.  We can see this clearly in the events which led to Jesus’ capture, His trial and execution.  It is important to say that the relationship between the Jewish leadership and the Roman authorities was, in essence, a marriage of convenience.  There was no love lost between the two.  But each one benefited from the alliance with the other.

            So the need to maintain order and control meant that, if necessary, crucifixions could be used to assert Roman control over the population.  Such events weren’t all that uncommon, taking place with some regularity, and perhaps even during Passover week.  (My own theory is that the two thieves who were crucified with Jesus were simply inmates in the jail, who were sent to Golgotha in an attempt to clean out the population of the jail.  It’s also possible that Pilate didn’t want to be seen to be singling Jesus out for punishment.)

            Remember that crucifixion was state-sponsored-terrorism, a mechanism to serve as a warning to anyone who would try to go against Roman authority.  As such, it’s possible that such events took place with regularity, and perhaps during the Passover week, when many people would be in Jerusalem for the celebration.  We don’t know this for certain, but it seems plausible.

            Another aspect of the Passover observance was the Seder meal, which took place on Thursday of Passover week.  We know that Jesus observed this custom, adapting parts of it to give us the gift of the Eucharist.

            These are some of the aspects of that first Holy Week that were, perhaps, not all that unusual.

            What then, is different about this week, and what is there that prompts us to observe this week with diligence?

            As Jesus’ disciples pondered the events of this week, they would come to realize:

·         The depths of God’s love for the world,

·         God’s power over evil, sin and death,

·         That the world’s history had been forever changed.

Thanks be to God!

AMEN.

           


[1]  See Acts 5: 33 – 37.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Lent 5, Year B


Jeremiah 31; 31-34; Psalm 51: 1-13; Hebrews 5: 5-10; John 12: 20-33

A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at St. John’s Church, in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, March 22, 2015.

“SIN, SACRIFICE & PRIESTLY MINISTRY”
(Homily texts:  Hebrews 5: 5-10 & John 12: 20-33)

Let’s do some theological reflection on the topics of sin, sacrifice and priestly ministry.

These three topics arise out of two of our wonderful readings for this morning, the one from the Letter to the Hebrews which confirms Jesus’ identity as the great high priest, one who is appointed by God, and the gospel reading from John’s gospel in which Jesus points forward to the time when He will be lifted up (on the cross) in order to draw all people to Himself.

Before we dive into these three important topics, it might be wise for us to define each one:

Sin:  Is a transgression against God’s commands.  It is, in its most basic understanding, either missing the mark of holiness that God requires of His people, or it is open rebellion against God.

Sacrifice:  The word itself comes to us from the Latin, where it originally meant “to make holy”.  The word is more commonly understood to mean “giving up something” in order to take hold of something better.

Priestly ministry:  Under the Law of Moses, the Torah, priests were those who were to be holy themselves, that is to say, they were set apart for holy work.  Priests also guaranteed the purity of the sacrifices that were offered under the Law of Moses, and they were the ones who entered into God’s presence in the Holy of Holies in the Temple in Jerusalem.

To understand these three topics: sin, sacrifice and priestly ministry, it is important to back up and take a look at these three aspects of life under the Law of Moses, the Torah.

The Torah took all three quite seriously.

Among the elaborate system of animal (and grain) sacrifices that the Torah prescribed was the sin offering, as we find it in Leviticus 4:1 – 5:13.  The animal which was to be offered as a sacrifice for sin was placed on the altar, the worshiper (or the priest) laid his hand on the head of the animal, which was then killed and burned on the altar.  It strikes me that this sort of sacrifice was an object lesson for the worshiper.  The message was “sin leads to death”.  This message was graphic, brutal by the standards we live by today.

But this system of sacrifices could not exist without the priests whose work it was to conduct the ceremonies by the standards that the Torah laid down.  In addition to these liturgical duties, the priests were also charged with guaranteeing the purity (and acceptability) of the animals which were to be offered for sacrifice.  One final, major duty which priestly ministry entailed was duty in the Most Holy Place (or, later on, in the Temple in Jerusalem, the Holy of Holies).  The high priest was appointed to enter into God’s very presence.  On the Day of Atonement (Hebrew:  Yom Kippur), the high priest would enter into this most holy place to make atonement for his sins and for the sins of the people.[1]

Now all of these three topics come together in the person of Jesus Christ.

Taking them together, let’s understand something of Jesus’ high priestly sacrifice for our sins.

We hear in our epistle from reading from Hebrews this morning just a short passage in the  long an detailed explanation of Jesus’ identity as both priest and sacrificial victim which confirms that Jesus is not only the high priest who has been appointed by God, but Jesus is also the perfect sacrifice for sin.  Turning to the passage we hear this morning, we notice that the Letter to the Hebrews calls Jesus the “high priest” who was “appointed by him who said to him, ‘You are my Son, today I have begotten you.’”  A bit later on, the writer confirms that Jesus has been made “perfect”, so that “he could become the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.”

The understanding in Hebrews is that Jesus is the one who has entered into God’s very presence to make atonement for sin.  Not only that, but, as the high priest, Jesus has guaranteed the purity (and acceptability) of the sacrifice.

Turning to John’s gospel account, we find two terms that permeate the Fourth Gospel:  “Hour” and “Glorified”.

Since these two terms appear quite often in John’s account, it would be good for us to look more closely at them:

Hour:  Jesus uses this term again and again as John’s gospel unfolds.  The term refers specifically to His death on the cross on Good Friday.  It is to this time and this event that John’s entire gospel account is pointing.

Glorified:  John’s understanding of Jesus’ death is quite unique from the other three gospel accounts.  In this gospel, Jesus’ death on the cross is the time when He is reigning from the cross in victory and power.  It is the most glorious time in the entire span of Jesus’ earthly life.  John’s understanding differs from the other three gospel accounts in that the other accounts portray Jesus as a victim who died a shameful death.  (It is important, I think, to understand that both approaches to Jesus’ death are essential for a more complete understanding of the Good Friday event.)

John’s entire gospel account is pointing toward Good Friday.  Summarizing the trajectory of his writing, we can see that John has informed us that Jesus Christ is the One who was sent from the Father (John 1: 1–18, the Prologue to the gospel); that Jesus Christ’s miraculous signs affirm that He is one with the Father (Chapters two through eleven); and that Jesus’[2] passion (His “hour”, the time that He is “glorified”) is the reason for His coming (chapters twelve through twenty).[3]

Now, let’s apply all that we have considered thus far to ourselves and to our walk with Christ in this holy season of Lent.

First of all, we need reminding that sin is a serious matter to God.  Sin should also be a serious matter for us.  Christ’s death on the cross, each and every time we see the symbol or consider the events of Good Friday, ought to remind us that sin leads to death.

Fortunately, the sin offering is a vicarious one.  We do not need to come and place our hand on the head of the sacrifice, and then to witness the bloody outcome of our sin.….Jesus has paid the full penalty for sin, being not only the perfect and acceptable offering,  but the offering which is made of Himself by His own agency.

Ours is a bloodless sacrifice.

And therein lies a problem.

It might be easy to think that, since we are removed from the graphic nature of the sacrifice, that we are also removed from the power of sin.

I said a moment ago that ours is a bloodless sacrifice.  It is a sacrifice which we recall each and every time we celebrate the Holy Eucharist.

Notice that the fair linen on the altar has five crosses on it.  These five crosses remind us of Jesus’ five wounds (hands, feet and sides).

As the consecrated bread is broken, the priest says, “Christ, our Passover, is sacrificed for us.”

So, each time we approach God’s presence in the Eucharist, perhaps the task before us ought to be remembering Christ’s sacrifice for sin, made vicariously on our behalf, that we might enter, with Him, into God’s very presence.

For Christ has made the perfect offering for our sins, and not for our sins only, but for the sins of the whole world.  He has made the perfect atonement for us.

Thanks be to God!

AMEN.


[1]   See Leviticus 16: 1–34 for a complete description of the Day of Atonement and the high priest’s role.
[2]   Chapter twenty one of John is usually characterized as an Epilogue to the gospel.
[3]   Put more succinctly, many scholars outline John’s account as follows:  1.  The Prologue (John 1: 1–18);  2.  The Book of the Signs (John 2–11);  3. the Book of the Passion (John 13–20; and 4.  The Epilogue.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Lent 4, Year B

Numbers 21: 4-9; Psalm 107: 1-3, 17-22; Ephesians 2: 1-10; John 3: 14-21

A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at St. John's Church, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, March 15, 2015.

"ONCE-BORN" OR "TWICE-BORN?"
            Let's begin this morning my asking ourselves this question:  "Am I a 'first-born' or a 'second-born' Christian?"

            If you’ve not heard that question or those terms before, perhaps an explanation is in order.

            I was privileged to have a wonderful theology professor in seminary who once phrased the salvation experience that is a necessary part of our Christian life in just that way.  He said, “There are ‘first-born’ Christians and there are ‘second-born’ Christians.  First-born Christians are those who can never remember a time in their lives when they did not know God, and who had known Him intimately and deeply, in their hearts.  They were raised in a Christian home and had come to know and love the Lord from very early childhood.  On the other hand, there are other Christians, second-born ones, who have had a conversion experience at some later time in life. These second-born Christians can name a time, a place, a circumstance in which they purposely gave their lives to the Lord.” 

            May I add my own comment to the professor’s excellent description of the faith walk of many of us?:  It is this “second-born” experience that is often called being “born again”.  The term “born again” arises out of Jesus’ conversation with the Pharisee, Nicodemus, who had come to visit Jesus at nighttime. 

            But since we pick up the interchange between Jesus and Nicodemus at mid-stream in our gospel reading this morning, let’s remind ourselves, first of all, of the overall structure of John’s gospel account, and then let’s retrace Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus up to the point where our reading begins this morning.  Finally, let’s look at the implications of Jesus’ comments which we hear this morning.

            First, however, let’s remind ourselves of John’s writing style:  Oftentimes, in the Fourth Gospel, we find Jesus engaged either in conversation with someone (such as with Nicodemus), and the conversation or interchange then leads into a discourse, during which Jesus engages in a teaching, such as the reading we hear this morning.  The same pattern pertains to incidents in which Jesus was engaged.  So the pattern that we experience often in John’s account is:

Conversation/incident →→Discourse/teaching

            Now, let’s retrace the conversation with Nicodemus, summarizing the course of their discussion.

            Early in chapter three, we find that Nicodemus had come to see Jesus under the cover of darkness.  Once inside the house, Nicodemus leads off with his best foot, telling the Lord that, “We know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do the signs that you are doing unless God is with him.”  (I can’t resist saying this:  Do you suppose Nicodemus was a graduate of the Dale Carnegie Course, whose slogan was “How to Win Friends and Influence People?”)

            But Jesus responds to this kind opening in a typically enigmatic way.  He says, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again[1], he cannot see the kingdom of God.”

            Nicodemus responds by saying, “Can a man enter his mother’s womb a second time and be born?”  (Notice that Nicodemus interprets Jesus’ comment in an entirely literal way.  He responds with the same mindset – a literal one – that we encountered in last week’s gospel reading (see chapter two, verses 19 – 21).  In last week’s reading, Jesus had told the Jews “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”  Those who had heard this comment responded literally, telling Jesus that it had taken forty six years to build the temple in Jerusalem up to the point of their conversation.  They did not understand that Jesus’ comment about destroying the temple and raising it up in three days was not a literal reference to the temple made of stone which stood in Jerusalem, but was, instead, a reference to the temple of His body.)

            So speaking to Nicodemus, Jesus clarifies the meaning of His statement by responding, saying, “Truly, truly, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.  That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.  Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’”

            Nicodemus seems to scratch his head as he says, “How can these things be?”

            Shortly thereafter, Jesus begins to engage in His teaching, entering into a discourse which makes use of the imagery of the bronze serpent that God had commanded Moses to erect in the wilderness during a time in which God’s people were being bitten by poisonous snakes.  By looking at the bronze serpent on the staff, the people would be cured and delivered from death.  No doubt, Nicodemus was very familiar with this incident and its implications.

            Jesus says that, just as the serpent was lifted up in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up.  He adds that whoever believes in this Son of Man may have eternal life.

            In both cases, the bronze serpent and Jesus lifted on the cross, the agent of death and destruction becomes the avenue of deliverance and life.

            And then follows what surely must one of the most well-known verses in the Bible:  ”For God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”  (John 3: 16)

            This verse comes brings us back to the matter of being a “first-born” or “second-born” Christian.

            Jesus’ teaching tells us that coming to faith, coming to the point of believing in Jesus, the Son of Man, is an essential part of our coming into a relationship with God through the Son.  The goal, the end-point, of our journey of coming to the place of believing, whether it takes the better part of the lifetime, or if it happens in a singularly memorable experience, is to come to believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, who was sent by God out of love for the world, and for the purpose of delivering us from the power of sin and death.

            When we come to faith in Christ, we are delivered from the power of death, just as the image of the bronze serpent delivered all who looked upon it from the power of death.  We look to Christ, lifted up on the cross, for deliverance from that power.

            Thanks be to God, who has given us the means to come to faith, faith in the living Son of God who has taken away the sin of the world.

 
AMEN.




[1]   The Greek word which is usually translated as “born again” can also mean “born from above” or “born anew”.