Sunday, February 24, 2019

Epiphany 7, Year C (2019)


Genesis 45: 3–11, 15; Psalm 37: 1–12, 41–42; I Corinthians 15: 35–38, 42–50; Luke 6: 27–38
This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, February 24, 2019.
"I CAN CHANGE, I GUESS"
(Homily text:  Luke 6: 27-38)
Not too many years ago, there was a wonderful comedy show which came out of Canada, and which was seen on Public Television. Its title was the “Red Green Show”.
The show featured a men’s club, with a men’s clubhouse, and a series of short vignettes.
But the one feature that was always the same was the “Men’s Oath”. Men would come into the clubhouse and file into the benches. They’d sit down, and then the leader would say, “All rise”, and they’d stand up. The leader would say, “Let’s recite the Men’s Oath”.
They all repeat the Men’s Oath, part of which says, “I’m a man, and I can change, I guess.”
Since Jesus’ teaching, heard this morning, is about change, let’s adapt the Men’s Oath and apply it to the situation that Jesus faced in His earthly ministry, and to our situation today. And since we shouldn’t pick on men (too much, anyway), let’s change “men” to “person”.
So, let’s begin.
I’m a person, and I can change, I guess:  I/we can change and learn to love others in the way that God already loves me/us. In the culture and society in which Jesus moved and worked, love was in short supply. The leaders of God’s people aren’t portrayed in a very favorable light. They seemed to relish their favored place in society, and they seemed to zealously guard their place in the scheme of things. They cared little for the people they were supposed to be leading. The world in those days 2,000 years ago was a pretty unloving place. Life was hard and difficult. It was uncertain and often short.
I’m a person, and I can change, I guess:  I/we can learn not to condemn others, even just a little. Jesus’ audience who had gathered around to hear His teaching knew quite a lot about condemnation. Remember how often the Pharisees chastised Jesus for hanging around with “tax collectors and sinners”? The attitude, common in those days, was to avoid people who were considered to be “sinners”. There was no forgiveness, only condemnation. Sinners were to be avoided, not associated with in the hope of reforming their lives, or in trying to understand their situation so as to improve it.
I’m a person, and I can change, I guess:  I/we can be generous in my/our treatment of others. Way back then, during Jesus’ earthly ministry, the common attitude was that if a person was healthy and was rich, then the reason those good things were part of that person’s life was because they were obeying all the requirements of the Law of Moses, and had been blessed by God as a result. But Jesus’ teaching, set before us this morning, informs us that God doesn’t think or behave that way. God’s goodness and grace isn’t dependent on a person’s ability to be righteous by their own merits.
I’m a person, and I can change, I guess:  I/we can recognize that God’s goodness which I/we receive isn’t meant to be hoarded, but it is to be shared with others and passed along to others.
Change is the basic message of Jesus’ teaching, heard this morning. But change is at the very heart of nearly all of Jesus’ teaching and interaction with others. He seeks to break down the “default settings” found in human hearts that are unresponsive to God’s action. For God’s way of thinking and doing is radically different from our ways of thinking and doing.
And that’s the bottom line of our relationship with God.
AMEN.

Sunday, February 17, 2019

Epiphany 6, Year C (2019)


Jeremiah 17: 5–10; Psalm 1; I Corinthians 15: 12–20; Luke 6: 17–26
This is the homily prepared for St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, to be give by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, February 17, 2019.
 “FROM RAW MATERIAL TO FINISHED PRODUCT”
(Homily text: Luke 6: 17–26)
Throughout this past week, I’ve been thinking about rocks and stones, and about raw materials being shaped into a finished product.
My concentration on rocks stems from my wife’s continuing interest in them, for, you see, she is the daughter of a geologist. All her life long, she’s been influenced by her father’s profession. This fascination continues to this day. It’s easy to understand, then, why she will stop and pick up a rock when we go on our parish bike rides along the rail-trail (by way of gentle reminder, the first one of the 2019 season is just a little over two months away, on the last Saturday of April). She’ll put her trophy on the rack on the back of her bike and bring it home so that she can line the flower bed behind the house with it. Another manifestation of her fascination with rocks and stones has to do with our move to Pennsylvania nearly four years ago. She once said, “Pennsylvania is the only state I’ve ever been in where, when the sign says, ‘Fallen Rock”, there will actually be fallen rock.” (Well, that may – or may not – be true, I’m not sure.)
Earlier this week, my wife, who loves old movies, was watching “The Agony and the Ecstasy”, the story of the painting of the Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo in the sixteenth century. Though this movie dates back some years, it does an excellent job of depicting Michelangelo’s early life, when he was known not as a painter, but as a sculptor. The movie took great pains to show how enormous blocks of stone were cut out of the formations they were formed in, and then how they were transported from the quarry to the shop where the carving would begin. At one point in the movie, Michelangelo is looking at a large block of stone, and he says, “This is Moses.” (It was Michelangelo’s conviction that the figure that would rise out of the stone was already present in the stone.)
The process of carving the stone so that a fine statue would emerge was a long and laborious one, one that – without modern tools – took a very long time to accomplish. We, today, are the beneficiaries of that process, for we are able to enjoy the beauty of the finished products of such work. Consider, for example, the statue of David which can be seen in the city of Florence in Italy today. That statue is the work of Michelangelo.
If we think about it, just about every object we make use of in our lives is some sort of a finished product. (I’d guess that there are very few that aren’t.) And each of those objects started out as some raw material or another, or perhaps a collection of raw materials, that were fashioned into its finished state. Given the fact that we don’t see the creative process by which raw materials are shaped and fashioned into a final and useful state, it might be easy to think that such things simply appear on their own. I suspect many of us give little thought to the manufacturing process that takes place.
Jesus’ teaching, known in Luke as the “Sermon on the Plain”, sets before us today what are known as the Beatitudes.
(Luke’s version differs from that which is found in Matthew’s Gospel account, chapters five through seven. The question naturally arises as to why there are differences between the two. One explanation might be that Jesus gave such a teaching on two different occasions…there are differences in the description of the setting, for example, which might lead to such a conclusion:  Matthew tells us that Jesus delivered His teaching on a mountain, while Luke tells us that it took place on a level place, a plain. It is possible, then, that Jesus gave two different teachings on different occasions. But it’s also possible that Luke’s sources – he was not an eye witness to Jesus’ teaching, after all – remembered different aspects of what Jesus said. The actual answer remains a mystery.)
The version of these sayings should be of interest to us, for Luke tells us that Jesus sets out a series of blessings. Then, the Lord sets out a series of woes. There are four of each.
What might Jesus’ purpose be in going about His teaching in this way?
Perhaps the answer is that Jesus wants to transform the raw material of our hearts and minds into a beautiful finished product which reflects God’s nature and God’s desire for each of us.
So the process begins. It begins in much the same way that an artist like Michelangelo would go about chiseling away at a block of stone, removing the excess and the undesirable material in order that the beauty of the statue which is contained therein is revealed.
Jesus begins, then, with the ultimate goal in mind: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you and which they exclude you and revile you and spurn your name as evil.”[1]
Along the way, the process of transformation won’t be easy. In fact, it is unpleasant, as unpleasant as if a block of stone had nerves and could feel the digging of the chisel, making its way into the stone with each hammer blow: “But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you shall be hungry. Woe to you who laugh now, for you shall mourn and weep. Woe to you, when all people speak well of you, for so their fathers did to the false prophets.”
Our Lord is telling us that we’d better allow the refiner of souls to reshape us into God’s image, an image that will be different from that which the world puts before us as being desirable. It is true that God’s ways are different, vastly different, from the ways of the world.
Transform us, then, Lord. Take the raw material of our hearts, minds and souls, and bring forth from them a beautiful and finished product which reflects your glory.
AMEN.



[1]   English Standard Version translation

Sunday, February 10, 2019

Epiphany 5, Year C (2019)


Isaiah 6: 1–8; Psalm 138; I Corinthians 15: 1–11; Luke 5: 1–11
This is the homily prepared to be given by Fr. Gene Tucker at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, February 10, 2019.
“HERE AM I, LORD, SEND ME!”
(Homily texts:  Isaiah 6: 1–8 & Luke 5: 1–11)
The designers of the lectionary cycle of readings usually do a pretty good job of selecting an Old Testament reading which has something in common with the appointed Gospel reading for the day. In the case of the readings chosen for today, they’ve done an excellent job of pairing up Isaiah’s call, as it is heard this morning from chapter six, with Peter’s call, from Luke, chapter five.
This morning, then, let’s consider God’s call to Isaiah, and some eight hundred years later or so, Jesus’ call to Peter. For in our examination of these two incidents, we can discern a good deal about God’s call, issued to each one of us.
The two calls have similarities.
The call is issued:  In Isaiah, God’s call comes in the form of the voice of the Lord, perhaps in a vision. In Peter’s case, Jesus tells Peter that “From now on, you will be fishing for people.”
An acknowledgment of God’s holiness and the unworthiness of the one being called:  Isaiah is given a vision of God’s holiness, as the seraphim call out to one another, “Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord of hosts the whole earth is full of his glory”.  In response, Isaiah says that he is a “man of unclean lips, dwelling in the midst of a people of unclean lips,” while Peter tells Jesus that He should go away, for he (Peter) is a sinful man.
A willingness to obey the call:  Isaiah says, “Here am I, send me,” in response to God’s call. Peter drops everything and gets up and follows the Lord into discipleship.
A new course in life:  As a result of following the call, each man’s life changes completely. Isaiah becomes a prophet, conveying God’s truth to a rebellious people, while Peter follows the Lord into the work of spreading the Good News of God in the world. It’s safe to say that each man’s life trajectory radically changed as the result of being willing to say “yes” to God.
The question that should be in our minds whenever we encounter a passage of Scripture arises at this point in our consideration of Isaiah’s response and Peter’s response to God’s call. That question is: “What does this imply for me and for my relationship with God?”
God issues a call (or calls) to each one of us. Certainly, one of the most important calls God offers to us is the call to follow Him in Baptism. For in Baptism, we are saying “goodbye” to one way of life, a former life of separation from God, in order to be folded into a new way of life, following God.
As life unfolds, God often (usually) makes more calls on us. That might involve a call to some sort of a ministry, ordained or otherwise….for example, a person might sense a call to begin a feeding ministry in a church or in a local soup kitchen. Other such calls might involve becoming involved in a campus ministry of some sort or another. These are just two examples. (Notice that I’ve not mentioned a call to ordained ministry at all, that’s because we so often think of a sense of call most often in connection with ordained ministry. I think, by limiting our concentration to that one way that God calls us, we may miss seeing other ways in which God issues calls.)
In order to take up a call, we need to acknowledge our own lack of worthiness or suitability to follow God’s call. As we look down through history, to cite an example, we see that many of our most wonderful Bishops are those who, when they were chosen, either said (in so many words), “Nope, not me, you’ve got the wrong guy,”, or who leave town and have to be tracked down and brought back in order to undertake God’s work. (And just because I can’t resist adding, let me say that anyone who seeks to become a Bishop, or who puts their own name forward in nomination, is – in my humble estimation – manifestly unqualified to be chosen!)
God can’t and won’t work with individuals who are proud or who are full of themselves and their own self-importance. The Old Testament phrase that is often used to describe such a mindset is “stiff-necked”.
Once we acknowledge God’s call, and say “yes” to it, then a new course in life will unfold. To others who might encounter us, at times such a change in course won’t prompt much notice. But there’ll be something new and different about it, even if the change mostly involves the individual’s approach and attitude toward the ministry that they’ve been called to.
Rest assured, God is ready to issue calls to us throughout out life’s journey. May we say with enthusiasm, “yes, here am I, send me!”
AMEN.


Sunday, February 03, 2019

Epiphany 4, Year C (2019)


Jeremiah 1: 4–10; Psalm 71: 1–6; I Corinthians 13: 1–13; Luke 4: 21-30
This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, February 3, 2019.
“LOVE IN THE BIBLE”
(Homily text:  I Corinthians 13: 1-13)
Our Epistle text appointed for this morning is drawn from St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, chapter thirteen. It is, perhaps, one of Paul’s most familiar writings, and one we hear quite frequently, particularly at weddings.
Paul’s subject, set before us this morning, is about love.
Love is a subject that those early Christians in Corinth needed to hear much about. It is a subject that we, today, also need to hear much about.
Since there seems to be some question about love, and about what love is, in the early culture of the city of Corinth and in the age in which we live, perhaps it might be good for us to pause for a moment and remind ourselves – by way of the dictionary definition of love – about the nature of love: Here, then is the Webster’s New Universal Unabridged Dictionary definition (which I offer only in part):
1.   A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
2.   A feeling of warm, personal attachment or deep affection.
3.   Sexual passion or desire, sweetheart. 
4.   A person toward whom love is felt. 
5.   (used in direct address as a form of endearment, affection, or the like, as in, “Would you like to see a movie, love?” 
6.   A love affair, an intensely amorous incident; amour.
7.   A personification of sexual affection, as Eros or Cupid;
8.   Affectionate concern for the well-being of others, the love of one’s neighbor.
9.   The benevolent affection of God for His creatures, or the reverent affection due from them to God. 
10.  Strong predilection, enthusiasm or liking for anything, as in “Her love of books.”
As wonderful as the English language is, it has only one word for love. So in order to distinguish between different kinds of love, we have to add an adjective. For example, we may speak of “Selfless love”.
The Bible too, has much to say about love.  Greek, the language of the New Testament, offers us a richer variety of words to describe love. The New Testament uses two of the three Greek words for love:
Phileo:  This is the love between friends, or perhaps brotherly or sisterly love, as in the city of “Brotherly Love”, Philadelphia.[1]
Agape:  This is self-giving love, the love that loves even if there is no benefit to the one offering the love. It is the sort of love that God has for humankind in the sending of His Son, Jesus Christ.
There is one other Greek word for love, which is not found in the New Testament:
Eros:  This is romantic, sexual love.
With a clearer concept of what love is, let’s turn our attention to the situation which existed in the early Church in Corinth. In truth, the Corinthian church must have qualified as the toughest group that Paul had to lead and manage.
To set the stage, we need to return to chapter one of Paul’s letter.
There, we find that a “party spirit” had infected the Corinthian church. Some claimed to be followers of Peter (Paul uses the Greek name for Peter, Cephas). Others claimed to be followers of Apollos (one of Paul’s coworkers). Others claimed to be followers of Paul. Still others - perhaps in a bid to outdo everyone else - claimed to be followers of Christ.
A little further along in his letter, in chapter eleven,[2] Paul has to set the Corinthians straight about their worship, for their Eucharistic celebrations had devolved into picnics, where well-to-do families would sit down to a sumptuous meal, while poorer members of the church nearby were neglected.
Paul has to remind these Corinthians Christians that everyone is valuable for the work of the Church to go forward. He uses the image of the human body to explain how each person has a part to play in the overall working of the body. For example, he says, “…the body does not consist of one member, but of many. If the foot should say, ‘Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,’ that would not make it any less a part of the body.” (I Corinthians 12: 14 – 15)[3]
Now the stage is set for Paul to define, very clearly, what love is – and what love is not.
“Love is patient, love is kind,” he says. “Love does not envy or boast,” he adds.
(Perhaps Paul is addressing the very behaviors he’d been told were taking place in the Corinthian church.)
The Greek word that Paul uses throughout his treatise on love is agape, that self-giving love seen most clearly in God’s gift of His Son, Jesus Christ.
You and I, it seems to me, are living in much the same sort of world that the early Christians experienced in the first century in the Roman Empire.
Life in that world was harsh and often uncertain. There was a severe shortage of love for one’s neighbor (phileo love), and probably a shortage, as well, of agape love, that love that holds another in love for the sake of the welfare of that other person.
Because life was uncertain, often short, and often filled with hardships, many decided to “eat, drink and be merry”, for who knew what tomorrow would bring? Immorality was rampant, or so the New Testament’s letters tell us.
Does this sound like the world you and I are living in?
I think it does.
Life, for many today, is uncertain, and harsh. Love of any sort that redeems and uplifts is in short supply. I speak of phileo and agape love, of course.
And so, many today choose to “eat, drink and be merry”.
In the process, what happens is that love (love, really and actually) get confused with what a person might want to do, things like “eat, drink and be merry” for the sake of “eating, drinking and being merry” for their own sakes. Many make the same decision as many in the ancient world did because today is what a person’s got and who knows about tomorrow.
Love then becomes synonymous with permissiveness, as in “If you really love me, you’ll let me do whatever I want to do.”
But true love – and now I am speaking of love in the agape sense – wants what is best for that person who is loved. Oftentimes, that means that simply saying “OK” to whatever attitudes and behaviors arise isn’t in that loved person’s best interest.
Agape love isn’t some pie-in-the-sky, altruistic, love that is connected to philosophic musings. Agape love is concrete, and is directed at some specific object, a person. That is the sort of love that God has for you and me, the sort of love that singles each one of us out, so that God can send His love into our hearts.
Because the time, the culture and the age in which we live is the way it is, we would do well to be reminded about the definition of love, true love, and not be deluded into thinking that love is pretty much the same as permissiveness.
It is a sobering lesson we should revisit from time to time.
AMEN.




[1]   Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, shares its name with an ancient city of the same name. it was located in Asia Minor, now western Turkey. The writer of Revelation addresses a letter to the church in Philadelphia. See Revelation 3: 7–13.
[2]   Paul’s description of the events of the Last Supper constitute the earliest written record we have of those events, predating all the Gospel accounts, including Mark’s, by perhaps ten years or more.
[3]   This is a text we heard last week.