Pentecost 14, Year B (2018)

Proper 16 :: Joshua 24: 1–2a. 14–18; Psalm 34: 15–22; Ephesians 6: 10–20;  John 6: 56–69

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, August 26, 2018.

“THE COST OF DISCIPLESHIP” (Homily texts: Joshua 24: 1–2a, 14–18 & John 6: 56–69)

“Because of this, many of his (Jesus’) disciples turned back
 and no longer went about with him.” (John 6: 66)

This Sunday morning, we come to the end of a four-Sunday series of Gospel readings which have focused on the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel account. (I will confess that I find great riches and great delight in this Fourth Gospel….frankly, I think we could spend a good deal more time in this book than we do as we make our way through the lectionary cycles, so whenever we have the opportunity to immerse ourselves in John’s writing, it is cause for rejoicing.)

Since we’ve come to the end of this series (next week, we’ll return to reading from the Gospel according to Mark), let’s recap where we’ve been these past Sundays.

The chapter opens with the feeding of the crowd of about five thousand people. We remarked at the beginning of this series that this miracle is recounted in all four Gospel accounts. As a result of Jesus’ provision of food, the people want to make him king. (I can’t resist speculating just a little about their motives. Perhaps their thinking went something like this: “This guy has given us food. Wouldn’t it be great if he were running things? Just think, we’d never have food shortages, and maybe we wouldn’t have to work so hard just to survive. Maybe, even, this guy could do something about those awful Romans, while he’s at it.”)

My speculation aside, Jesus is aware of their thoughts, and so He leaves them. (Verse 15)

Jesus directs His disciples to get into a boat and cross the Sea of Galilee. They are headed to Capernaum. During a storm, he comes walking to them on the sea at night. (Verses 16 – 20)

But some of the crowd who had been present at the feeding of the multitude found Him in Capernaum. There, the conversation about feeding resumes. Jesus tries to get his audience to move away from their literal conception of what had happened to see the eternal purposes of God which are at work in Him. He begins to talk about “bread from heaven”, but His audience thinks He might be referring to the manna in the wilderness. Jesus has to remind His audience that it wasn’t Moses who gave their ancestors the manna, it was God. (Verse 32)

The conversation takes yet another turn when Jesus makes this statement “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” As things move along, then He tells them that the bread which He will give for the life of the world is “my flesh”, (Verse 51) adding that those who “eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life…” (Verse 54)

This brief synopsis brings us to today’s reading.

Many say to Jesus, “This teaching is difficult, who can accept it?” (Verse 60)

If we were to put ourselves into this picture, it wouldn’t be hard to imagine that many who were listening were also scratching their heads in wonderment and disbelief. Frankly, if I’d been standing among that crowd, listening to the Lord, I suspect I’d be doing just that. Perhaps many of us would.

The Lord’s teaching provokes His first hearers in Capernaum and the Lord provokes His hearers today, you and me.

We might scratch our heads in wonderment and, perhaps, in disbelief.

For the Lord is provoking us to come to the point of decision about who He, the Son of God, is. He is provoking us to realize what it means to be a follower, a disciple, of Jesus.

We see from this morning’s reading that many turned away, and made the decision not to follow. Perhaps the cost was too high. Perhaps they couldn’t see the eternal realities that lie within, but beyond, the physical and literal realities of the bread which the Lord had provided them. (Of course, as we have mentioned in previous Sundays, the Lord’s words are intimately connected to the Eucharist. This truth will be confirmed in the passage of time, following the Lord’s death and His resurrection.)

We come, as those people of old did, to a point of decision. This point of decision is framed very well by Joshua’s words, heard in our Old Testament reading this morning: “but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.” (Joshua 24: 15b)

Fortunately, not everyone turned away that day.

Jesus turned to the twelve original disciples and asked, “Do you also wish to go away?”

Peter’s response is this: “Lord to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

Peter’s response is worth looking at in detail. Notice the order of the progression of the faith of those original disciples: First, Peter says that they have come to believe. Then, he says, they have come to know.

Believe, and then know.

The progression of faith quite often follows this pattern. It is well summarized in this saying (which I can only attempt to paraphrase):

I believe in order that I may know, and I know in order that I may believe.

Believing that something is true is the first step, quite often, on the path to knowing. We put ourselves into the position of trusting that something is true, even though we may not know exactly and fully why that it is true. (After all, we are dealing, when we are dealing with the things of God, with mystery.) And so, as we make that step in faith, the Holy Spirit confirms in us what is true and what is congruent with the nature and will of God.

Our knowing allows for further belief.

One final comment is in order:  There can be no discipleship, no following the Lord, without sacrifice. Essentially, this is the step that those who turned away from the Lord refused to make. For if they’d chosen to follow the Lord, their lives would have taken a different path that it otherwise might have. To follow the Lord means that we must acknowledge that the Lord’s ways are better than our ways. And so, we are called, as followers of Jesus, to surrender our wills and our desires to His will and His desires for us.

To do so is to find the fullest and greatest meaning of life, nothing less than that.

Our prayer might be simply this: “Lord, help me to believe, in order that I might know. And then, confirm my knowing, that I might believe more deeply and more fully. In all of this, mold and shape me into the disciple you want me to be”

AMEN.

Pentecost 13, Year B (2018)

Proper 15 :: Proverbs 9: 1–6; Psalm 111; Ephesians 5: 15–20; 6: 51–58

This is the homily given at Greenwood Furnace State Park, on the occasion of the annual parish picnic of St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday August 19, 2018

 “TANGIBLE REALITY AND THE REALITY OF MYSTERY”

(Homily text: John 6: 51-58)

(Introductory remark: For the past three Sundays, we’ve been making our way through the sixth chapter of the Gospel according to John. The entire chapter is devoted to recording the feeding of the crown of 5,000. Following this event, Jesus engages in conversation with some of those who had been fed. The conversation unfolds as Jesus tries to steer His listeners away from a literal understanding of His mission and purpose in coming among them. We will enjoy this delightful sojourn in the Fourth Gospel for two more Sundays, today and next Sunday. Today’s reading unfolds as Jesus points toward the future offering of Himself on Good Friday).

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat of the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.” (John 6: 53 – 54) (ESV)

Whenever we hear these words of our Lord, most likely our minds will connect them to the Eucharist.[1] After all, Christians down through the ages have made the connection between these words and their meaning in the Eucharist.

But, this morning, let’s try to set aside those associations and take a fresh look at the scene that unfolds before us in the description that John has provided.

Taken at their literal and face value, what Jesus has said makes no rational sense. No wonder that those who were engaged in conversation with Jesus said, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” (John 6: 52b) (ESV)

Taken at their literal and face value, Jesus’ words are abhorrent to any right-thinking person….is what Jesus said meant to refer to cannibalism? (We would do well to remember that the early Christians were persecuted by the Romans in part because the Romans thought that Christians were engaging in cannibalism. Judging from the face value of the words, “This is my body, this is my blood,” such a conclusion is a reasonable one.)

But, it would take the events of Good Friday and Easter Sunday to clarify just what Jesus meant. In time, God’s purposes in sending Jesus Christ among us to take up our humanity would be understandable.

What we are dealing with is a tangible reality, and its connection to the reality of mystery.

The tangible reality is Jesus’ presence. Jesus comes among us an observant Jew, a man who resided in Nazareth, a man whose mother and (foster) father were known to many. Jesus comes as a human being in all the meaning of that word: a man who cried, felt compassion for those who were like “sheep without a shepherd” (Mark 6:43b), who met the needs of those He encountered, who resisted the corrupt leadership of the chief priests, the Scribes and the Pharisees, who worked with His hands as a carpenter.

But something more is also involved in this person of Jesus.

That something more has to do with mystery.

Mystery is connected to the present, tangible reality of everyday life, but mystery points us toward another aspect of this present reality. It is something we can sense, something we know that works, though we may not understand exactly how,

This last comment brings us to the Eucharist.

When those who receive this Sacrament come forward to receive, these (or similar) words are spoken as the gifts are given: “The body of Christ, the bread of heaven,” and “The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation.”

Perhaps we’ve heard these words so often that their tangible meaning has been eclipsed by the mysterious meaning of them.

Perhaps we ought to step back for a moment and consider the tangible reality and its implications, for this tangible reality tells us that God cared so much for us that He sent His only Son to dwell among us, to experience our human existence to the full, even to the point of suffering a horrible death on the cross.

Wow!

You and I matter to God, that’s what all this means. We matter to God a whole lot.

What we are dealing with in this tangible reality is the connection between the tangible and the mysterious. The mysterious does not exist in its own realm alone, it exists in the tangible reality, the things you and I can touch, hear, see and experience.

That means that this present and tangible reality matters a lot to God. The everyday is made holy by God’s intervention into that present and tangible, everyday reality.

And so, we Christians celebrate the tangible reality which points beyond itself to the mysterious workings of God. Can we fully understand this mystery in this life? No, we can’t. Can we understand the tangible reality of the Lord’s death on the cross? Yes, we can. But can we understand Jesus’ rising from the tomb on Easter Sunday morning, conquering – in the process – the power of our final enemy, which is death? No, we can’t. Jesus’ resurrection lies within the realm of mystery, a mystery we cannot fully understand, but which we know works for our benefit.

The mystery of the resurrection works, and benefits us as believers, pointing beyond this present reality to the reality of God’s love, whose love will guarantee for us eternal life once this present life is over.

Being able to comprehend the mysteries of God which are connected to – but which lie beyond – this present reality is a gift from God, given through the reality of the coming of Jesus Christ and aided by the continuing work of the Holy Spirit.

AMEN.

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[1]   The Holy Eucharist is known by various titles within Christendom:  the Mass, Holy Communion or Holy Eucharist, the Lord’s Supper, etc.

Pentecost 12, Year B (2018)

Proper 14 :: I Kings 19: 4–8; Psalm 130; Ephesians 4: 25 – 5: 2; John 6: 35, 41–51

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, August 12, 2018

 “TWO THINGS WE NEVER OUTGROW OUR NEED FOR”      

(Homily texts: I Kings 19: 4–8 & John 6: 35, 41-51)

Isn’t it a good thing that God acts sacramentally? [1]

Perhaps I should explain this statement…..God often makes His presence and His power known in observable, tangible ways. That is to say, we know that God is at work in the things He does in our lives and in our world. The things we see (the outward and the visible) point beyond themselves to the things we cannot see (the inward and the spiritual). God’s actions bind together the seen and the unseen, and they serve to remind us of God’s continuing action in the world.

Without God’s acting in this way, His existence, His power and His presence would be the stuff of speculation alone. But God brushes aside any sense of speculation when he acts to bind together those things we human beings can experience with those things that we cannot see, but that are part of His very nature.

Our first reading, taken from First Kings, points to God’s sacramental acting:  Elijah has fled from the wicked Queen Jezebel and her husband, King Ahab, fearing for his life. He is camped out somewhere beyond the city of Beersheba, which was in the Southern Kingdom of Judah.. Falling asleep, he is awakened by an angel, who puts before him some cakes and a jar of water. “Get up and eat,” the angels says to him, “or else the journey will be too much for you.”

By this act, God miraculously provides the things that Elijah is going to need in order to make his way to the mountain of God, Mount Horeb. There can be no doubt in Elijah’s mind and heart that God is present with him, and that God will make it possible for him to fulfill all that God has in mind for him. [2]

Fast forward to our Gospel text. We’ve been making our way through much of the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel account. (We are blessed to be able to spend four Sundays looking at this wonderful chapter. Today’s text is the third Sunday of the four in the series.)

The sixth chapter of John is as close as we come in the Fourth Gospel to a description of the Holy Eucharist. (John never narrates the institution of the Lord’s Supper, as do Matthew, Mark and Luke. Instead, John narrates Jesus’ act of washing the disciples’ feet during that Last Supper.)

The discourse between Jesus and those who had been following Him around the northern shores of the Sea of Galilee naturally flows out of Jesus’ act of feeding the 5,000, which is where the sixth chapter begins. In the course of the back-and-forth, Jesus has to remind His hearers that it was not Moses who gave them the manna in the wilderness, the manna came from God. (See verse 32.) It seems as though Jesus and His hearers are on different wavelengths: Jesus is speaking to them of spiritual things, while they are stuck on a focus on material things.

So, from these two readings, we may conclude that there are two things we are continually and constantly in need of:

God’s provision of the things we need to live:  Even as the Lord’s angel fed Elijah in the wilderness, and even as Jesus fed the 5,000, also in the wilderness, we stand in need of certain things in order to live. A short list (by no means an exhaustive one) might include:  The creation and its renewal, air, water, food, shelter, clothing, etc. All these things are needful for us to continue to live this earthly life. In large measure, God provides much of what we need directly. But it is also God who makes it possible for us to get those things that we need in order to live. Examples of this might include: Health, the ability to work, gainful employment that makes it possible to buy the things we need, and the work of others which make the things we buy, etc.

Reminders of God’s presence:  It’s easy to focus on those things that we can see, touch and experience, and – in the process – forget God’s invisible-yet-powerful presence in the world in which we live and in our lives. To be aware that the things that God does point beyond themselves to the unseen and invisible and spiritual reality of God’s presence should be a carefully cultivated, lifelong habit.

We stand in continual need of these two things.

By the power of the Holy Spirit, may we be awakened to a fuller appreciation of God’s working in the world, and to the proof that God’s visible acts are tangible proof of His continued working among us.

AMEN.

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[1]   It may be helpful to remember the definition of a Sacrament: “An outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace.” We here at St. John’s are in the midst of an extended look at the Sacraments.

[2]   It’s worth noting that Elijah’s doubts aren’t completely a thing of the past. He continues his “pity party” as chapter nineteen of First Kings unfolds.