Sunday, August 27, 2017

Pentecost 12, Year A (2017)

Proper 16 :: Isaiah 51: 1–6; Psalm 124; Romans 12: 1–8; Matthew 16: 13–20
This is the homily by Fr. Gene Tucker that was given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, August 27, 2017.
“WHAT DID PETER KNOW, AND WHAT DO WE KNOW (AND HOW DO WE KNOW IT)?”
(Homily text:  Matthew 16: 13–20)
At the outset, let me say that this morning’s Gospel text is one of my favorites. It is a text we hear on the Feast of the Confession of St. Peter, the Apostle, which falls on January 18th each year. And it is a blessing for us to hear it this morning.
Peter says, in response to the Lord’s question about His identity, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” (Somehow, I wish we could hear the tone of voice that Peter used in making this statement, for I suspect he may have said it with a lot of energy. If so, that would be characteristic if the picture the Gospels paint of Peter’s personality.)
By way of introduction, we should acknowledge that this text is one which figures prominently in some of the debates among Christians about the foundation of our Christian faith. More specifically, we should acknowledge the differences in interpretation regarding Jesus’ comment, made in response to Peter’s acknowledgement of Jesus’ true identity, between the Roman Catholic Church and other Christians. Specifically, the problem in interpretation lies in the meaning of the nickname Jesus gave to Simon: Peter. The name (or nickname, in this case) Peter comes to us from the Greek, where it means “rock”. Jesus follows up the application of the nickname to Simon by referring to the “rock” upon which the Church will be founded. So the question involves the meaning of “rock”, with the Roman Catholic Church maintaining that Peter is the foundation of the Church. Other Christians have a different perspective, understanding Jesus’ comment applies to the foundation of the Church as being the confession of Jesus’ identity. This debate has had a long life, and it is one which will not be settled anytime soon. I leave it to your own reflection to understand more fully just what Jesus had in mind.
Now, let’s turn our attention to the specifics of Peter’s response.
We must begin by taking a closer look at the title “Messiah”. The word comes to us from the Hebrew, where it means “anointed” (or “anointed one”). The title “Christ” means the same thing, but Christ comes to us from the Greek. If we look more closely at the Greek, we can see echoes of the basic word in English, which we find such an echo in the word “charismatic”, which means - in its more basic sense - one who is especially gifted in some way. In this sense of the word, we sometimes talk about a person’s “charisms”, meaning “gifts”. The word “charismatic” has also taken on the sense of someone who has a magnetic personality, or who is especially talented in drawing others to themselves.
But while we are looking at the title “Messiah”, we ought to attempt to understand some of what Peter might have had in mind in acknowledging Jesus’ as being God’s “anointed one”. To gain a somewhat fuller understanding, we could look to some of the perspectives among God’s chosen people 2,000 years ago, for their expectations might have informed Peter’s understandings of the title. Messianic expectations ran high in some parts of Judaism in Peter’s day. Some applied the statement made by the Old Testament prophet Malachi that, before the “great and awesome day of the Lord”, the prophet Elijah would be sent, to the coming of God’s Anointed One. (See Malachi 4:5.) So some Jews looked for Elijah’s return, which would herald the coming of the Messiah. It’s probably accurate to also say that the coming of the Messiah was seen in political and military terms. Specifically, some Jews hoped that the Messiah would throw off the yoke of the oppressive Roman occupation of their homeland, re-establishing the great days of King David’s rule of a thousand years before.
But Peter makes a statement, not only about the Messiah, but about Jesus as being the “Son of the living God”. Where would Peter have gotten that idea? Perhaps the answer lies in Jesus’ many statements about God being His Father. Of course, it’s important for us to remember that many Jews who heard Jesus’ statements about His relationship to God took offense at these comments, for God – in those days – was seen to be remote and removed from His people. God was – in those times – someone whose name was so holy it could not be mentioned or pronounced at all. God was the divine being with whom there was no personal relationship. God was related to, in those days, through the observance of the holy Law which had been given to Moses.
Now we, who look at this text from the perspective of 2,000 years, have a problem, for we look at Peter’s comment from the vantage point of the reflection of the Church which has been gained in the process of a prolonged struggle to understand just what it is that God has done in sending Jesus Christ. For the Church struggled – for much of the first five hundred years of its existence – to understand Jesus Christ’s nature. Eventually, the Church came to understand that Jesus Christ is fully human, yet fully divine, or, as the Nicene Creed[1] states this truth, Jesus Christ is “true God from true God”, the one who is of “one substance with the Father”, the one who was “begotten of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary”, the one who was “made man”. The Council of Chalcedon, which took place in the year 451 AD, affirmed this truth in its statement about the dual natures (divine and human) of Jesus Christ. Chalcedon’s affirmation establishes the understanding that Jesus Christ’s dual nature is one in which the human and the divine natures are not confused, but which cannot be separated. This statement can be found in your Prayer Books (the 1979 edition) at page 864.
Before we leave our consideration of this morning’s Gospel text, we ought to take note of the calculated way that Jesus asks His disciples about His identity. Notice that Jesus’ initial question is quite broad and is quite generic. He says, “Who do people (men in the original) say that the Son of Man is?” (I am adding italics to the question so that the progression can be seen more clearly.) Next, the Lord asks, “Who do you[2] say that I am?” Notice the progression from “people” to “you” and from “Son of Man” to “I”. Jesus begins the questioning quite broadly, but then narrows the focus to the very specific and the very personal.
In this narrowing of focus, we come to the central concern of life. For each one of us must reckon with the question, “Who do you[3] say I am?” Our response can draw on the tremendous reserves of the Church’s own reflection on this question, offering us theological insights into God’s action in raising Jesus Christ from the dead on Easter Sunday morning. For, as an astute Lutheran theologian has stated, “God is whoever raised Jesus from the dead”, the reality of the resurrection lies at the very heart of the truth of the Good News (Gospel) of God, made known in the life, teachings, healings and raising of Jesus Christ.
But it’s critical for us to remember that being able to arrive at knowing who Jesus Christ is comes as a direct result of God’s revelation of Himself. That, in essence, is the gist of Jesus’ comment about “flesh and blood” not being the source of Peter’s ability to answer the Lord’s question. No, the Lord affirms, it is the Father’s revelation that makes such knowledge possible.
No doubt Peter came to a fuller understanding of just who Jesus Christ is after the resurrection, for in the resurrection the Father is revealing His power. We, too, can come to a fuller and deeper understanding as we reflect on all that Jesus has done, is doing, and will do, through the power of God.
The Church’s central purpose – one which surpasses all others in importance – is to assist each individual person to answer the question, “Who do you say that I am?” That is the main reason we are here this morning. For to answer this question is to find one’s truest self in God, made known in Jesus Christ.
May the Holy Spirit enable our understanding and our transformation into the likeness of God, seen in Christ Jesus.
AMEN.




[1]   The Nicene Creed was formulated at the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD. It was modified at the Council of Constantinople in 381 AD, and it is this version that is in common used today.
[2]   “You” is plural in the Greek.
[3]   I use the word “you” in the singular here.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Pentecost 10, Year A (2017)

Proper 14 :: I Kings 19: 9–18; Psalm 105: 1–6, 16–22, 45b; Romans 10: 5–15;  14: 22–33
This is the homily by Fr. Gene Tucker that was given at St. John’s, in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, August 13, 2017.
“THE WAYS OF THE LORD”
(Homily texts:  I Kings 19: 9–18 & Matthew 14: 22–33)
The Old Testament reading chosen for this morning and our Gospel reading, appointed for this day, have much in common: Both the prophet Elijah and the disciple Peter find themselves in danger. Both have much to fear, given their respective situations.
Considering both individuals’ circumstances, we can learn much about the ways of the Lord, and about our connection to Him.
We begin with Elijah.
As the text opens, we find Elijah hiding in a cave, somewhere hear Mt. Horeb, which is another name for Mt. Sinai, the place where Moses received the Law from the Lord. Elijah has fled to this very southernmost place in the Sinai peninsula to escape the wrath (and the danger) of King Ahab, for – not long before – Elijah had defeated the prophets of the Canaanite god Baal, bringing down God’s fire on an altar which had been soaked with water. The prophets of Baal were defeated, and Elijah saw to their elimination. Of course, this action angered King Ahab’s, wife, Jezebel, who was a Phoenician princess.
Peter also faces danger as he leaps into the sea, walking on the surface of the water. Walking - that is – until he takes his eyes off of the Lord and begins to notice the surging waves  of the sea billowing around him. So Peter’s life is in danger, as is Elijah’s.
But both men had plenty of evidence of God’s power.
In Elijah’s case, Elijah had stopped the rain from falling, causing a drought over the whole land. And then there was that faceoff with the prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel. Recall with me what happened there: The prophets of Baal begin their dance around their altar, calling down their god to light the sacrifice with fire. But despite all of their efforts, there was no fire. Elijah taunts them, asking if their god is on vacation, or perhaps he is sleeping. He says, “Cry aloud, for he is a god!” Moreover, Elijah had raised the widow of Zerephath’s son back to life again.
So Elijah had witnessed and had seen God’s power in action.
Likewise, Peter had witnessed God’s power, at work in the person of Jesus. He had seen miraculous healings. He had seen the raising of the daughter of the ruler of the synagogue.
So Peter also knew God’s power.
But both men find themselves between the past evidence of God’s power and the current reality of danger.
Isn’t that often the case with us?
Don’t we find ourselves confronting an uncertain and perhaps dangerous future, even as we have experienced something of God’s power at some point in the past?
Perhaps we can learn some lessons from of these prominent figures in the Bible about God’s power and about our relationship to God, from whom comes the power to save.
Elijah’s predicament provides us with a valuable illustration of God’s power, for that power is manifested in dramatic signs:  In a mighty wind that breaks in pieces the rocks, in an earthquake, and in fire.
But notice that God’s power is known, finally, in the sound of sheer silence. Some translations use different terminology to describe the Hebrew: The English Standard Version says the sound of a “low whisper”, while the Authorized (King James) Version says a “still, small voice”. The New International Version describes the sound as a “gentle whisper”, while the New Revised Standard Version comes closest to the Hebrew, describing the sound as the sound of “sheer silence”.
So, perhaps we are on a solid foundation to be able to say that, at times, God’s power is known in dramatic and powerful ways. But at other times, His ways are quiet, almost beyond our normal ability to know. Those ways are ways of quiet power. They require us to set aside the noise and the bustle of the world in order to discern God’s moving.
But sometimes God has to reach out and reconnect with us. Surely, that is an element in the Elijah incident before us this morning….Elijah isn’t in the wilderness near Mt. Horeb for the purpose of having a “pity party”. Elijah’s life, remember, is in grave danger. And, as he sinks into despair over the uncertainty he faces, God breaks in and asks, “What are you doing here, Elijah”?
In a similar way, Jesus reaches out His hand to Peter as Peter begins to sink into the waters of the Sea of Galilee. Jesus finds Peter in the midst of Peter’s uncertainty and the threat of drowning.
So the lesson we might draw from Peter’s brash move to get out of the boat and to walk toward Jesus on the water is that we are never to lose our focus on the Lord. If we lose focus, if we lose sight of God’s power and presence, then God will have to make the move toward us to find us. But how much better off would we be if we never lost sight and connection with the Lord in the first place?
As the waters of life threaten to engulf us, may we remember God’s faithfulness and God’s saving acts in the past chapters of our lives, so that we might maintain our constant focus on the Lord. Sometimes, God’s power is seen in dramatic and powerful ways, but at other times God calls us to search and find His ways in the stillness of quiet presence. Searching for the Lord when He seems to be absent challenges us to seek and find the One who said that He would never leave us, nor forsake us.
AMEN.
       



Sunday, August 06, 2017

The Transfiguration of our Lord Jesus Christ – Year A (2017)

Exodus 34: 29–35; Psalm 99; II Peter 1: 13–21; Luke 9: 28–36
This is the homily given by Fr. Gene Tucker at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, August 6, 2017.
“THROUGH MANY DANGERS, TOILS AND SNARES”
(Homily texts:  Exodus 34: 29–35, II Peter 1: 13–21 & Luke 9: 28–36)
“Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come….”
Perhaps most of us will recognize these familiar words as being one of the verses of the hymn “Amazing Grace”, whose author was John Newton, who, after his career as a ship’s captain whose work was transporting Africans to the New World to be sold into slavery, became a Church of England priest.[1]
“Through many dangers…..”
This morning, we have the delight of being able to celebrate the feast of the Transfiguration of our Lord Jesus Christ, one of the major feasts of the Church Year, which always falls on August 6th. And, since this year, August 6th is a Sunday, we are able to celebrate this event in our Sunday morning worship. This is, of course, something that happens only once every five or six years, whenever August 6th happens to be a Sunday.
As we read Luke’s account[2] of the event that took place on the mountain, we notice that Jesus’ appearance is transfigured. Luke, along with Mark, tells us that Jesus’ clothes became “dazzling white”. Matthew makes more of the presence of light, telling us that Jesus’ face “shone like the sun”.
Since light is involved in this event, either by its explicit inclusion in Matthew’s account, or by inference in Mark and Luke’s accounts, let’s think a little about what light does, and then let’s couple that idea to the place that the Transfiguration occupies in the lives of Jesus’ first group of disciples. Finally, let’s consider our own walk with the Lord and how God’s light plays into our journey.
We begin with light.
The image I have in mind of light and light’s abilities and qualities comes from a railroad locomotive. (OK, I know that using such an example isn’t the least bit surprising to those of you who know me.) But, since our parish is located just a block off the main track that connects New York to Chicago (which was once owned and operated by the mighty Pennsylvania Railroad, but now is owned and operated by the Norfolk Southern), let’s think about the light that shines from the front of the locomotive as a train makes its way through town. We have plenty of opportunity to see this in action if we will walk a few blocks to the Amtrak station to watch the trains come and go.
A very bright headlight is mounted on the front of the locomotive. Back when I was a boy, that bright light was mounted on the front of a steam locomotive, and some of the lights that were mounted on the locomotives, both steam and then diesel, rotated in a figure-eight pattern. Nowadays, changes in the regulations require that locomotives not only have the main headlight, but they must also have two smaller lights that are mounted below the headlight. They give additional light to the way ahead, and when a crossing is coming up, they flash back and forth to attract the attention of users of the highway to the train’s approach. The object of that light, whether it moves or not, is to illuminate the track ahead. At night, such a need is mandatory, otherwise, the train might collide with something. At daytime, the lights also make it possible for the train to move forward, for the lights draw attention to the train’s presence and its movement.
If we consider the qualities that this bright light provides, we can see that light makes it possible to move forward. But, if we turn around and look at the path of travel that lies behind us, we can see that the light which made it possible for the train to move forward also allowed the train to make its way from its beginning point toward its destination.
So light allows us to look forward and to move forward, while light also allows us to look back in appreciation for the movement that light made possible.
Now, let’s turn our attention to the Transfiguration itself, and to the Transfiguration’s place in God’s plan for Jesus’ ministry.
That dazzling whiteness of the Lord’s appearance, and the light which is indirectly alluded to in Luke’s account, but which is explicitly mentioned in Matthew’s account, provided a glimpse of the Lord’s glory that would be revealed on Easter Sunday morning.
But the disciples couldn’t know this at the time. They only knew it as they looked back at the event from a post-Easter perspective. Notice how Peter, writing in his second letter some years later, would recall witnessing the majesty of God as it was revealed to him on that holy mountain.
But between the Transfiguration event and Easter Sunday, there was the darkness of the experience of Good Friday. As the disciples experienced the Lord’s resurrection, perhaps they could look back and see that God the Father’s power over every danger was complete, a power that could conquer even death.
After the resurrection, Peter, James and John related what had happened as Jesus’ appearance was transformed. Somehow, as the disciples gained a fuller understanding of what God was doing in sending Jesus Christ, perhaps they saw God’s “bigger picture”, and came to know God’s power, made known in Jesus Christ, more fully and completely. Perhaps these first disciples were able to connect the dots and remember how God revealed Himself to Moses on another mountain, the appearance we read about in Exodus 34: 29–35.
Indeed, if these original disciples had known John Newton’s hymn, perhaps they could affirm that they had, indeed, come through “many dangers, toils and snares”.
Perhaps we can affirm, with John Newton and with the original disciples, that we, too, have come through “many dangers, toils and snares”. We are assured in Holy Scripture that, in this life, we will have times of difficulty, trials and troubles. We will experience loss and disappointment. There will be times of darkness, perhaps even the deepest darkness.
But in the midst of these things, can we look back and see the light of God, shining in even the darkest of times? Can we see how that light not only made it possible for us to survive those trying times, but how the light of God also allowed us to move forward into a better place?
Newton’s hymn not only looks backward, but it also looks forward. Consider the entire verse to see this aspect of what he wrote:
“Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come. ‘Tis grace that brought be safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.”
We can be assured that God’s light will lead us into the times which lie in front of us. Whether those times are completely illuminated with the light of God, or whether those times will be times in which we can’t seem to see much of God’s light at all, we can take courage from God’s faithfulness in lighting the pathway of life in the times that lie behind us, knowing that He will go before us into the times which are to come.
Thanks be to God!
AMEN.
           




[1]   This hymn can be found in the 1982 edition of the Hymnal, as hymn 671. Newton’s dates are 1725 – 1807.
[2]  Matthew and Mark also record this event. These other accounts may be found in Matthew 17: 1 – 8 and in Mark 9: 2 – 8.