The Third Sunday in Lent, Year C (2016)

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

This is a homily by Fr. Gene Tucker,  given at St. John’s Church in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, February 28, 2016.

“IN THE MIDST OF DESPAIR, LOSS & HOPELESSNESS”

(Homily text: Luke 13: 1-9)

A group of second graders are playing during recess at school. A dispute erupts between two groups of the children, which prompts a teacher’s notice. The teacher comes over, and asks, “What’s going on?” One of the children says, “Well, they started it.” Turning to the other group, the teacher repeats the same question. The other group of children responds by saying, “No, they started it.”

The teacher, being experienced in the ways of elementary school children, looks at one child and says, “I don’t want to know what they did, I want to know what you did.”

This very common occurrence – probably one that each one of us has either taken part in (in our formative years, of course) or has witnessed – points out a facet of human nature: When challenged, we will try to avoid responsibility for our own actions by pointing the finger away from ourselves onto someone (or something) else. We will be tempted to try to put the blame in another direction. We will try to assert that we’re pretty good.

Jesus knows very well how human nature works. The tendency to try to avoid responsibility for our own actions was probably as much a part of human nature 2,000 years ago as it is today. So in today’s Gospel passage, He asks if those who were killed by Pontius Pilate were worse sinners than others. Of course they weren’t, so Jesus says “Unless you repent, you will perish in the same way.”  (I can just imagine that He might have emphasized the word “you”.)

In truth, we know nothing about Pilate’s victims. Nor do we know anything about the collapse of the tower in Siloam. What we do know is that Pilate was a ruthless and violent governor of Judea, so the idea that he could have ordered the massacre that Jesus refers to is entirely within his reputation. As to the collapse of the tower, it’s possible that it was a construction accident.

Jesus’ focus on these two events highlights a common belief among people in His day. It was the idea that, if a person was ill, poor, or had died violently, then those events must have happened because they were notorious sinners. Conversely, if a person was wealthy and/or healthy, then those things were due to the person’s holiness and adherence to the Law of Moses.

Such an attitude easily leads to the idea that, “Well, I’m pretty good, it’s those other people (sinners) who are terrible.” At the root of such an attitude is the idea that a person can improve their status with God by their own efforts. Lifting oneself up by one’s own spiritual bootstraps, if you will.

It’s no wonder that Jesus cuts through all these schemes which are aimed at rationalizing the problem of sin. He aims to get each and every one of us to take a good, long, honest look at our true spiritual condition. Part of this assessment has to do with the fact that – absent God’s help – we are entirely unable to help ourselves. There are no bootstraps for us to grab onto. God is the one who will have to lift us up out of our wayward ways. Our job is to allow God to take hold of us, in order that upward movement may begin.

Lent is a season which calls us to a sober, searching look at ourselves. Our task is to see ourselves as God sees us. God’s regard for us is a combination of holiness and love, of righteousness and of care. Because God loves each one of us deeply and intensely, and because God earnestly wants to be in a close and abiding love relationship with us, we are able to allow the holy God to reach down to touch us and to lift us up out of our helpless condition.

Thanks be to God!

AMEN.

The Second Sunday in Lent, Year C (2016)

Genesis 15: 1-12, 17–18; Psalm 27; Philippians 3: 17 – 4: 1; Luke 13: 31-35

This is a homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at  St. John’s Church, in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, February 21, 2016.

“IN THE MIDST OF DESPAIR, LOSS & HOPELESSNESS”

(Homily texts: Genesis 15: 1–12, 17–18 & Luke 13: 31-35)

At first glance, our Old Testament reading from Genesis, chapter fifteen, and our Gospel reading, from Luke, chapter thirteen, don’t have much in common with one another.

But if we look a bit more closely, we can see two common threads: What ties these two passages together is the sense of despair, loss and hopelessness that both Abram and Jesus experience. They are also tied together by the faithfulness we see in Abram and in Jesus.

Let’s explore these threads more in depth.

As we do so, let’s remind ourselves of the circumstances of each figure:

Abram had been promised by God that He would “Make of him a great nation.” (Genesis 12: 2). Now, in the passage before us this morning, God comes again and assures Abram that He is with Him, saying, “Fear not, Abram, I am your shield.” But Abram, apparently remembering God’s promise made earlier (in chapter twelve) says, “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus.” Then Abram continues by saying, “You have given me no offspring, and a slave born in my house is to be my heir.”

Notice the sense of despair. Notice the sense of loss, and of hopelessness. God’s promise seems very far away, for – by the time of this conversation, Abram was quite old, and so was Abram’s wife, Sarai. Both were beyond normal child-bearing age. (By the time that Abram and Sarai’s child, Isaac, was born, Abram was one hundred years old, and Sarai was age ninety.)

Now, let’s turn our attention to our Gospel reading for this morning, where we see Jesus on His way to Jerusalem (see Luke         13: 22). Seeing the city, Jesus utters a lament of hopelessness, loss and despair, saying, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

In the midst of despair, hopelessness and loss, God is often most present.

Now let’s notice the thread of faithfulness:

Our Genesis account makes this clear, for God takes Abram outside and asks him to look at the stars. God says, “So shall your descendents be (in number). God then enters into a covenant with Abram, promising him that the land that had been promised would, indeed, be his and his ancestors to inherit.

Genesis tells us that Abram believed the Lord, and that his faith was accounted to him “as righteousness.”

In the midst of despair, loss and hopelessness, Abram is a model of faith and of faithfulness: In due time, he and Sarai do have a child, Isaac. In time, Isaac’s son, Jacob, has sons who will become the heads of the tribes of ancient Israel. God’s promises unfolded over time.

Jesus’ faithfulness is not so easy to see in our Lukan text this morning. We would do well to unpack this just a little:  Some Pharisees come and warn Jesus to get away from Jerusalem, saying that King Herod was trying to kill him. Jesus’ response shows His faithfulness. He says, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish by work….”

The threat posed by Herod, and by Herod’s accomplices in the ruling elite of Jesus’ day, the Chief  Priests and the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, was one that anyone with even a casual knowledge of how things worked could see: If anyone dared to challenge power structures and the relationships between these three, all of them were willing to work together to get rid of the challenge and the challenger. It had happened again and again as uprisings took place in the Holy Land. So the trajectory of Jesus’ journey and its eventual end was a foregone conclusion. We might characterize the relationship between Herod, the Chief Priests and Pilate this way: “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Jesus surely knew full well what awaited Him as he made His way into the city to the acclamation of the crowds, who said, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” Jesus confronts the situation in Jerusalem head-on, overturning the tables of the moneychangers in the Temple. Such an acts gets the attention of the Chief Priests, and then Herod and Pontius Pilate.

Yet, Jesus is faithful. He pursues His road, all the way to Calvary. As His life ebbs away, He says, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

God’s presence seems absent. God’s eyes and God’s care seem to have vanished.

The sense of God’s abandonment of Jesus and of God’s people seems complete as Jesus’ body is taken down from the cross and is buried on Good Friday evening. God’s abandonment seems complete until Easter Sunday morning, when God’s victory over sin, over death, and over evil is complete. Jesus rises from the tomb, and God’s plan and God’s presence are made clear.

As we walk the way of life with Christ, there are times when we will find ourselves in the “Valley of the shadow of death,” as Psalm 23 says. We may cry out with the Psalmist, “Out of the depths I cry to you.” (Psalm 130) We affirm the truth of Psalm 27: 12 – 13, “Hide not your face from me, nor turn away your servant in displeasure. You have been my helper; cast me not away, do not forsake me, O God of my salvation.”

Our walk through Lent may bring us to remembrances of times when things were rough, times when there was deep loss, much despair, and a lack of hope. If we recall those difficult times, can we then also look for God’s presence in those times, to see how He was active in the midst of trouble?

When things are going well, it’s easy to miss or overlook God’s presence, for we might focus on the good things and the good times that have come our way. But in hard times and in times of loss, we may well see God, active and present. We may not see His presence immediately. In difficult times and circumstances, we are called to have a full measure of faith that, in God’s time, God’s power and abiding presence will be known. The words of Dame Julian of Norwich (1342 – c. 1417) remind us of God’s power. Assured of God’s power, she said,  “I can make all things well; I will make all things well; I shall make all things well; and thou canst see for thyself that all manner of things shall be well.”

AMEN.

The First Sunday in Lent, Year C (2016)

Deuteronomy 26: 1-11; Psalm 91: 1–2, 9-16; Romans 10: 8b-13; Luke 4: 1–13

This is a homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at St. John’s Church in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, February 14, 2016.

“UNDOING EDEN”

(Homily text: Luke 4: 1 – 13)

Whenever we encounter a text from Holy Scripture, we would do well to remember that the point of each and every text is to make us aware of something about God’s nature and God’s interaction with humankind.

Often texts will have a theological thread running through them which connects them to another theme elsewhere in the Bible.

Such is the case with today’s Gospel reading, which recounts to us Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness. (It would be well for us to remember that this is a text we hear each First Sunday in Lent, first from Matthew, then Mark, and finally from Luke, in years A, B and C, respectively). Our Collect for this day also reminds us of the Lord’s time spent in the wilderness, forty days in all (which is, by the way, the model for the length of the Lenten season: forty days). As the forty days of Lent get underway, the structure of the readings appointed for this first Sunday are especially appropriate, as is the Collect which picks up the theme.

The account of Jesus’ temptation has a strong theological connection to the temptation of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. (You can refresh your memory of that first temptation by reading Genesis 3: 1–13.)

Here is the theological connection between the temptation in the Garden of Eden and the temptation in the wilderness: The evil one uses a similar approach in each case, appealing to some aspect of our basic, human nature. In the first temptation, Adam and Eve flunk the test. In the second temptation, Jesus reverses the course of human events that were set in motion by Adam and Eve’s failure.  

Let’s look more closely at the common threads which connect these two occasions of temptation.

An appeal to our need for food:  The first link is an appeal to our need for food. In the Garden, the serpent comes and suggests to Eve that she might want to eat of the fruit of the forbidden tree. Having heard this suggestion, she looks and sees that the fruit is, indeed, desirable food. In Jesus’ temptation, the devil suggests that, because Jesus is hungry, He might turn a stone into a loaf of bread.

Distortion and misuse of God’s word:  In the Genesis account, we hear the serpent say to Eve, “Did God say…?” In Jesus’ temptation, the devil uses a quotation from Psalm 91: 11–12 (which we read this morning), suggesting that Jesus throw Himself down from the pinnacle of the temple, because it is written that the Lord’s angels will bear him up.

Appealing to our need to be in control: At the heart of the temptation of Eve and then Adam in the Garden is an appeal to “be like God, knowing good and evil”. To be “like God” is to have total and complete control of one’s future. It is to be assured of safety. Notice that the devil makes the same appeal in different terms by suggesting that Jesus worship him, in order that control of the kingdoms of the world would be subject to the Lord. Likewise, the suggestion that Jesus throw Himself down from the temple is an appeal to a basic human need for safety.

As we compare these two passages, we can see the following commonalities:

1. Testing God: Adam and Eve want to be “like God”. In the process, they listen to the voice of the serpent, who suggests that God’s word isn’t trustworthy. In fact, the serpent suggests that God’s word is false. In similar fashion, the devil suggests that Jesus test the truth of God’s word by suggesting that He throw Himself down from the temple.
2. Human need becomes the avenue for temptation: All human beings have certain basic needs. Among them are: A need for food, a need for safety, a need to be in control of our immediate surroundings and a desire to be in control of our futures (as much as that is ever possible). We see each of these in the accounts from Genesis and from our gospel reading from Luke this morning. (Of course, it’s important that we remind ourselves that there are many other needs that are basic to the human condition. Each one of them is a potential avenue of approach for temptation to take.)[1]

You and I are made in the “image and likeness of God” (Genesis 1: 27). God has blessed us with memory, reason and skill. We can think through solutions to problems. With our mental capacities, we can imagine and create new things, things which often benefit humankind. We can plot a future course for our lives and for the lives of others.

Of course, it’s true that these capabilities we have can also be used for evil and destructive purposes, as human history will clearly show: We can engage in war and destruction. In our quest to be in control (or to seem to be in control), we can exploit others and even plot to damage or destroy them. We are capable of falsehood and lies in our attempt to gain the upper hand in our dealings with others. It is abundantly clear that something about our human nature is deeply flawed, for all the positive aspects of it.

The problem is that – having listened to the voice of evil once – our ears are open to hearing that evil voice again and again. We all know how to do “bad stuff”, and we are accomplished and fully trained sinners. Since the voice of evil often uses needs which are part of our human nature, part of our ability to survive, as the avenue of approach, we will always be susceptible to the voice of evil, so long as we are in this present life. Coupled with our ability to think, to imagine and to create, the possibility for evil to prosper is very high.

Are we consigned, then, to being defeated by the voice of evil suggestion? No!

In Christ, the one who reversed the failure of Adam and Eve in the garden, we can claim victory over evil. We are able to do this by virtue of our baptisms, for in baptism, we are claimed by Christ as His very own child. It is as if the Lord puts a protective barrier around us as we emerge from the waters of baptism. In baptism, the Holy Spirit is given to the newly baptized. The Holy Spirit enables us to discern between God’s will and a distorted version of God’s will, a counterfeit which comes from evil. As the Lord conquered evil, thereby setting up a string of victories over the forces of evil, we can claim that same power as we encounter our own time in the wilderness of life.

So what do we do when the evil one comes along, suggesting we doubt the truth of God’s word, suggesting that we take steps to answer some basic, human need, or suggesting that we do something that we think might enhance our safety?

Perhaps our response might be to specifically ask the Lord for His protection, and for the power of the Holy Spirit to firm up our resolve, that the Holy Spirit might remind us of past victories in our lives over sin and evil

And, should we succumb to temptation, as we will do from time-to-time, being children of Adam and Eve, we can remember that the God whom we love and who loves us is a loving God who forgives the sins and failures of those who confess their faults.

So may we approach the throne of God’s grace, asking for His protection in times of trial and temptation, and relying on His willingness to forgive, should we fall short of God’s standard of holiness.

AMEN. 

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[1]  The list of the Seven Deadly Sins, also known as the Cardinal Vices, suggests a possible way for us to consider some of the other various avenues of temptation to sin. These seven sins are:  Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath and Sloth.

Ash Wednesday, Year C (2016)

Joel 2:1–2, 12-17; Psalm 103:8-14; II Corinthians 5:20b – 6:10; Matthew 6:1–6, 16-21

This is a homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at St. John’s Church, in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Wednesday, February 10, 2016.

“GOOD NEWS, BAD NEWS”

There is good news and bad news in store for us as we begin our Lenten journey today.

And, as the jokes go that begin with the line, “I have some good news and some bad news for you,” let’s begin with the bad news, and then move to the good news.

The bad news is that each and every one of us is in need of repentance, amendment of life, and confession to God of the ways in which we each fall short of God’s standard of holiness and righteousness.

We see this need in Psalm 51, whose words we will recite in a moment, and which many scholars believe was composed by King David as he confessed to God his adulterous affair with Bathsheba.

The petitions of the Litany of Penitence (Book of Common Prayer, 1979, pages 267 and following) point out some of the ways in which we are reminded of the ways in which we might fall short of God’s holiness. Some of those petitions may be personally and deeply offensive to us as we repeat the words. The Litany’s petitions might spell bad news for us as we claim this or that petition as our own personal failing.

But here’s the good news:

As we reflect on the ways in which we fall short of God’s expectations for us, might we also reflect on the growth that has taken place in our lives as a result of the power of the Holy Spirit’s moving in our hearts and minds?  Can we see improvement in our spiritual condition? If so, then it’s appropriate to name the ways in which things have gotten better, from God’s perspective. Perhaps, as we repeat the Litany’s petitions, we might also reflect on the ways in which we were once mired in neglecting God’s expectations, but are neglectful no longer. We can celebrate the successes in our lives that have come about with God’s help, for all growth into the full stature of Christ comes only with God’s help and with the intervention of the Holy Spirit. That is the bad news: That we cannot help ourselves out of our sinful condition. But the good news is that God is able and willing to redeem us from our wayward ways.

The Litany of Penitence in our Prayer Book is designed to lay before us the smorgasbord of the ways in which we can recall that there are many possibilities for failure. As we hear and say each one, perhaps we can reflect. Perhaps we can say to ourselves, “Yes, I am guilty of that one,” or, “I need to work on this one.” Perhaps we can allow our prayer to ascend to God, “O Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” But perhaps we can also offer thanks to God, saying, “Thank you, Lord, for rescuing me from this sin or that sin.”

And perhaps the petitions we will say together in a moment will also allow us to see ourselves as God sees us, as beloved children of a loving God, a God who seeks not the death of the sinner, but that the sinner might turn from his/her ways and live. That, indeed, is very good news!

AMEN.

The Last Sunday after Epiphany - Year C (2016)

Exodus 34: 29-35; Psalm 99; Corinthians 3: 12 – 4: 2; Luke 9: 28–36

This is a homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at St. John’s Church in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, February 7, 2016.

“SOMETHING VERY OLD, YET VERY NEW”

(Homily texts:  Exodus 34: 29–35, II Corinthians 3: 12 – 4: 2 & Luke 9: 28-36)

In my lifelong interest in trains and in railroads, I once witnessed a delightful event in which a brand new Amtrak diesel locomotive (of the sort that we see running on the tracks behind the church twice each day) and an old steam locomotive (built in 1909, and still running today!) were parked, nose-to-nose, coupler-to-coupler. The age difference between the two locomotives was about 80 years or so. Those attending the annual meeting of the tourist railroad where this event took place were welcome to go inside the cabs of each locomotive. It was impressive to see how different they were.

And yet, these two locomotives, despite their age, had a lot in common. For example:

• Both would couple up to any passenger coach with ease that is in use today, or which has been in use in times past (from about the 1880s forward).
• Both run on the same set of tracks (spaced 56.5 inches apart – standard gauge).
• Their air brakes would operate any coach they pulled.

Those are just some of the examples of the things they have in common.

This illustration shows that – in the railroad industry – past practices have a lot in common with the newest developments in the industry. We might say that railroads are doing things that are “very old, and yet very new”.

The same can be said for our three Scripture readings today, all of which have to do with the appearance of God’s light, revealed to Moses and to three disciples of the Lord - Peter, James and John -  and the response of God’s people to that light.  Each of our three appointed readings for this morning is very well matched in that sense, for all three deal with the topic of God’s light, revealed to humankind.

Each of our readings, when taken together, constitutes something very old, yet very new.

Using the image of trains and railroads, let’s explore each of these.

In our reading from Exodus, we hear the account of Moses coming down from Mt. Sinai, having received the tablets of the Law from God while he was there. Moses’ face shines with the reflected glory of God’s light, having been in God’s presence. In a sense, what has happened is that God has given His people a basis for being in relationship with Him. That basis, that foundation, is like the tracks that trains run on. The track of Holy Scripture forms the basis upon which the journey of God’s people in ancient times – and in our time - rests. God’s light shines ahead, lighting the way forward, like the bright light of a locomotive’s headlight. And Moses serves as the power for this new revelation of God, for he is the locomotive which draws God’s people in its train.

Fast-forward now to the revelation given to Peter, James and John on the mountain, taken from our reading in Luke this morning. (It’s worth noting, at this point, that we consider this same event every year on the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, rotating – in turn – through the accounts of this event in Matthew, Mark, and Luke). That same resplendent light that Moses saw is the same light which Peter, James and John experienced. The glory of God is revealed to them, as it had been to Moses. 

In this act, God is doing something very old, but also something very new, for God has acted in the same way with Moses and with these three disciples. 

Yet in the process, a new light – the light of Jesus Christ – shines, lighting the way ahead, the way which will lead these three disciples down from the mountain, to Jerusalem, to Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday morning. The light which these three saw was given not only to light the way forward to these events, but also to give light to you and to me as we begin our Lenten journey this week, a journey that will take us from the liturgical heights of the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, down to those events of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter. 

Now, Jesus acts to propel God’s people forward, providing the power to make the journey through this life and into the life of the world to come.

Our Epistle reading from St. Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians warns us of the dangers of looking backward, and not forward. Paul, in a masterful turn of image, tells us that the Law of Moses now serves as a veil to cloak the glory of God for the chosen people of God. Instead of seeing the light of Christ, that new-thing-that-is-a-very-old-thing that God has done in sending Jesus Christ, God’s chosen people can only look back at their glorious past. Their approach would be very much like having a train enthusiast whose only interest is in antique steam locomotives. 

It’s one thing to appreciate the past; it’s quite another thing to live in the past.

To live the Christian life is to be willing to take up the business of valuing the very old things of our faith, even as we apply that wonderful legacy to the new situations that we will face in everyday life.

That’s one of the hardest things we Christians are called to do: We are called to apply ancient wisdom to contemporary situations.

How might we manage to be successful in this calling?

Here are some ideas:

1. The basis of our faith remains Holy Scripture. As we said earlier, that basis is like the foundation that tracks provide for a train passing over it. The direction of the track determines the destination of the train. In the same way, Scripture allows us to move forward in life, and its foundation is essential to every decision we make. The great Anglican priest and theologian Richard Hooker[1] said that Scripture is the most important source of authority we have. Scripture is assisted in guiding us, he said, by what he called “Right Reason” and by Tradition. (Please note that these three sources of authority are not equal: There is no “three legged stool” as some have characterized it.)
   
   
2. Decisions we make will be consistent with the past in some way or another. Deciding just how a possible action is consonant with what has gone before can be the most challenging aspect of moving forward.
   
   
3. We must realize that most situations we will face have also been present in the past. The reason for this reality is that – absent God’s action in people’s lives – human beings are essentially the same in the present as they were in the past. Our condition before God is unchanged, unless and until God intervenes in our lives to bring His divine light into the darkness of the human mind and heart.

So we disciples of the Lord Jesus stand with our gaze fixed in two directions: We look to the past and to the accumulated wisdom of God’s revelation as we have it in Holy Scripture in Right Reason and in Tradition, and at the same time, we look to the present as we seek to live out the love of God given to us, that divine light of God which lightens our darkness, the light which has come into the world in the person of Jesus Christ.

AMEN.

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[1]  Richard Hooker lived from 1554 – 1600. His major work is entitled The Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity.