The Eve of the Nativity – Christmas Eve (2019)

Isaiah 9: 2–7 / Psalm 96 / Titus 2: 11–14 / Luke 2: 1–20

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Tuesday, December 24, 2019 at 4:00 PM and 11:00 PM, and at Trinity, Tyrone, Pennsylvania at 7:00 PM that same day.

“LOOKING HEAVENWARD,
LOOKING EARTHWARD”

Let’s consider the matter of preaching, and especially the matter of preaching on a festival day like Christmas, an occasion where nearly all of one’s hearers will know the basics of the Gospel story.

The process of learning the craft of preaching often takes awhile to get used to and to become proficient at. Part of that formative process involves learning what the challenges are.

For example, in seminary, those who are preparing for ordained ministry, which usually involves learning to be proficient at the business of preaching, take homiletics classes. In my own experience, some of the topics we considered in our homiletics classes included discussions about an optimal length (in time) for a homily (the consensus was that about seven minutes was a good length, given the shortened attention span of many people these days, and especially if one is a part of a church whose worship includes the frequent celebration of the Holy Eucharist). We also looked at ways to organize our homiletical material, and how best to use our own natural gifts to best effect.

As to the business of preaching on a familiar holy day, the challenge is to approach a very familiar subject with a fresh perspective, perhaps in a quest to shed light on an aspect of the events that would allow us to see something differently.

To the subject of Christmas, we now turn.

Of course, to nearly all of us, the narratives of Jesus’ birth are very familiar. It’s possible that many of us could recite the Matthean or Lukan narrative from memory. (Neither Mark nor John record any of the events about Jesus’ birth.) Some of us who are of a certain age might be able to recite those narratives from the Authorized (King James) Version of the Bible.

What then, might we say about the birth of Jesus, the One who is the Messiah, the Christ, the Son of God?

This preacher would like to suggest that Jesus’ birth causes heaven to look down upon earth, and it causes us human beings to look heavenward.

This double focus is due to the nature of this unique child. The Gospel narratives make clear that Jesus’ birth came about as a direct result of the action of God, working through the Holy Spirit. But, at the same time, there is a human element, a human role in this birth, for the Gospel narratives also make clear that it was the agency of the Virgin Mary that made it possible for this divine child to take on our humanity.

The heaven/earth connection, made possible through the coming of Jesus, the Christ, tells us much about heaven, and about earth. For the reality of God’s love, seen and known in God’s sending of His Son, makes it clear that this earth and those who live on it are extremely valuable to God. Conversely, as we come to the realization that God has come among us in the person of Jesus Christ (one of the titles given to Jesus is “Immanuel”, meaning “God with us”), prompts us to lift our eyes heavenward, to exclaim that God is, indeed, working and active in human affairs. The work begun with the coming of Jesus Christ continues in the world today, for He has assured us in Holy Scripture that he will be with us until the end of the age (Matthew 28:20).

What happens in this life and in this world matters to God. That’s one conclusion we can draw from the coming of Jesus Christ. Likewise, we can affirm that our lives have purpose and meaning.

Heaven meets earth, and earth meets heaven, in the birth of Jesus, the Christ.

Thanks be to God!

AMEN.

Advent 4, Year A (2019)

Isaiah 7: 10 – 16 / Psalm 80: 1–7, 16–18 / Romans 1: 1–7 / Matthew 1: 18–25

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, December 22, 2019.

 “RISK AND OFFERING”

(Homily text: Matthew 1: 18-25)

Let’s talk about risk and offering this morning.

Our appointed Gospel text lays before us Matthew’s recounting of the process by which God unfolds His plan to enter human history through the birth of Jesus, as that plan affected Mary and Joseph. (At this point, it’d be worth noting that Matthew’s Gospel account focuses in largely on Joseph’s, role, while Luke’s account focuses on Mary’s role.)

God’s plan placed a significant amount of risk before Joseph and Mary. Presumably, each one could have said “No” to God’s plan, opting out of cooperating with God to bring about this miraculous birth.

The risk involved for these two servants of God had to do – in large measure – with the character of the society in which they lived, a society that sociologists might call an “Honor and Shame” society. The term denotes the idea that members of society bring honor to themselves (and their families) by doing good things, and – conversely – they bring shame upon themselves (and others) by doing bad things. (It’s worth saying that our contemporary society has lost a good bit of its sense of honor and shame.)

So it is that Mary is pregnant without the benefit of marriage, a major transgression of the norms of the society in which she lived. Matthew points this reality out by telling us that Joseph pondered what to do about this development….he thought about divorcing Mary quietly, since, at that time, an engaged couple was considered to be married (but without the possibility of intimate relations), an interim step toward full marriage. Betrothal or engagement could be ended only by divorce. Under the provisions of the Law of Moses, the penalty for becoming pregnant without the benefit of marriage was death by stoning. Joseph apparently seeks to find a compassionate way out of the situation by divorcing Mary quietly. If he had done that, it’s quite likely that Mary would have continued to live under a permanent sort of house arrest.

No doubt Joseph and Mary continued to live with the after effects of this situation once they had returned to live in Nazareth. To the casual observations of their fellow residents in town, the circumstances of Jesus’ birth amounted to a violation of the norms of society and of the Law of Moses.

God’s call often involves risk of some sort: Risk of change, risk of taking a new and different course in life.

Like Joseph (and Mary), it’s possible for us to say “No” to God’s call. It’s possible to tell God that we don’t want to take the risks involved in God’s plan.

But it’s also possible that we can make our lives an offering to God, being willing to take whatever risks come along with saying “Yes”, just as both Mary and Joseph did.

Perhaps the risk for us involves little more than living by God’s standards, instead of living by the world’s standards. Just doing that alone these days will involve risk. But maybe the risk will be far greater than that: Maybe God will ask us to do something completely new and different, something that means we will have to set aside whatever plans we might have had for ourselves.

In a very real sense, God’s call to us, made originally in baptism, is made again and again, day in and day out, each and every day. Seen this way, God visits us daily (as our Collect for the Fourth Sunday of Advent reminds us), asking us to offer ourselves to God’s will and service, indicating our willingness to take whatever risks come along with making that offering.

AMEN.

Advent 3, Year A (2019)

Isaiah 35: 1–10 / Psalm 146: 1–9 / James 5: 7–10 / Matthew 11: 2–11

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, December 15, 2019.

 “THE ONE, ESSENTIAL AND MOST IMPORTANT QUESTION”

(Homily text: Matthew 11: 2–11)

In this morning’s appointed Gospel text, John the Baptist asks the one, essential and most important question that he – and we – can ask: “Are you the one, or should we be looking for another?”

Of course, we know from Matthew’s text that John asks this question of Jesus.

At first glance, John’s question might seem a bit odd, maybe even unusual. After all, earlier in Matthew’s Gospel account, we learn that Jesus had come to be baptized by John. But John objects, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” (Matthew 3:14). However, Jesus insists, and is baptized by John. John seems to sense that there is something quite unique about Jesus, quite powerful, perhaps. A bit earlier, John had said that there was one coming after him, whose sandals he was unworthy to untie. (Matthew 3:11)

It’s possible that John’s understanding of Jesus’ nature and Jesus’ identity is incomplete. After all, in sending Jesus to come among us, God was doing something radically new, something that hadn’t happened before in human experience and history. John wasn’t alone in his questioning….Jesus’ own disciples often failed to understand and grasp just what God was doing, at least before the events of Good Friday, Easter morning, the Lord’s Ascension and Pentecost took place.

Now, as we look again at John’s question, it’s possible that we can see three things at work:

·         John’s pondering and wondering

·         His question to the Lord

·         The Lord’s response

We’ve looked at the first two parts of this sequence. Now, let’s turn our attention to Jesus’ response.

As is quite often the case, Jesus doesn’t offer a straightforward answer. Instead, He points to the things that are being done through Him: The blind see, the lame walk, lepers are healed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor receive good news.

On the surface, this list is a summary of what Jesus has been doing, and it reflects Matthew’s record of those deeds.

But on a deeper level, most of Jesus’ list has to do with God’s power to create and to re-create. Put another way, God’s power is – in its most fundamental understanding – the power to make things, and to make them new again. It is that power of God that is at work in Jesus.

We would do well to return to the sequence of things as John’s mind seeks an answer to the question, “Are you the one?” For, I think, the sequence in John’s mind is the sequence that you and I face in our quest to understand God, to come to know God, and to come into an intimate, enduring and powerful relationship with God through Jesus Christ.

First of all, we share – or ought to share – with John an inquiring mind and spirit. No relationship with God can really begin unless we have that thirst after God. And, while we’re pondering this truth, we ought to admit that – absent the Holy Spirit’s presence – we are unable even to begin the quest.

But, as we begin to walk the road of understanding, we must also admit that we don’t know all there is to know about God and God’s nature and ways. We know some things, to be sure, but we cannot, this side of heaven, know it all. The question then becomes: Can we learn and know enough? Yes, would be the answer.

Secondly, John asks the question: “Are you the one we’ve been waiting for, or do we seek another?” That question, we, too, must ask. We can recast the question like this: “Enlighten us about who you are, and about your ways and your will.” After all, we are in a slightly different position that John was, for we have the witness of Jesus’ ministry, His death, His resurrection, His ascension. We have all of these things. Moreover, we have the thrust of Christian history to inform us, as we examine the lives of the Apostles and the saints down through the ages who have demonstrated God’s power in their lives.

Then, finally, we must become comfortable with God’s answer. Oftentimes, the answers that God provides in response to our questions isn’t straightforward. Perhaps that’s because God wants us to do our part to seek His truth, I don’t know. But, instead, what God will offer us is proof of His workings in our lives in and in the lives of others. The proof, then, is there, but we will have to look for it.

Welcome, then, to the questioning, the Lord’s response, and to our search for the truth of the Lord’s answer.

AMEN.

Advent 2, Year A (2019)

Isaiah 11: 1–10 / Psalm 72: 1–7, 18–19 / Romans 15: 4–13 / Matthew 3: 1–12  

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday December 8, 2019.

“GOD’S PLAN, OUR WORK”

(Homily texts:  Isaiah 11: 1–10 & Matthew 3: 1–12)

On this Second Sunday of Advent, the designers of our lectionary readings’ cycle have placed before us a passage from the prophet Isaiah, a passage which describes a future time of peace, along with John the Baptist’s ministry of baptism for the repentance of sins.

At first glance, these two passages don’t seem to have much in common with one another. But if we look a little deeper, perhaps we can see a connection.

Let’s explore these two texts a bit.

Isaiah is writing in the eighth century before our Lord’s advent among us. His is a troubled time, a time when many of God’s people will be threatened with war and with conquest. In the midst of all this gloomy news, Isaiah describes a time when God’s rule will extend to all creation. His language is wonderful: It is a time when the lion will lie down with the lamb, he says, a time when a child will play over the hole of a poisonous snake.

Now, let’s turn our attention to Matthew’s description of John the Baptist’s work.

John the Baptist’s ministry also unfolds during a very troubled time: God’s people are living under the yoke of oppressive Roman occupation. The leadership of God’s people were self-serving and not-at-all concerned with the welfare of the people they were leading. We could say in all truth that the leadership of the people was manifestly corrupt. Moreover, worship of God in this time seemed to be formal, but without an impact on the day-to-day lives of ordinary people. Put another way, Temple worship adhered to the precept of the Law of Moses, but it lacked an impact beyond the walls of the Temple complex.

John the Baptist calls those who had come out to the wilderness to repentance. His call was to confess their shortcomings and wrongdoings, and to wash them away in the waters of the Jordan River. As part of their confession, they are told to set aside any claim of worthiness of their own. John’s words are blunt: “Do not presume to say that you are children of Abraham.”

The way to bring God’s vision of peace and perfection begins with an admission that God’s people – those in John the Baptist’s day and us, today - have nothing of value to bring of our own. Admitting that shortcoming is the beginning of being able to be God’s agents for change. “Don’t think that you have any platform on which to stand,” we could say in summary.

How do we move toward God’s vision of peace and perfection, given the fact that – on our own merits, we have nothing to offer?

After all, we are God’s hands to do, God’s heart to love, God’s mind to think and imagine in this world. But for all the capabilities we might have as we use our hands, our hearts and our minds, without God’s inspiration and undergirding, anything we might try to do will fail.

It is as if God has laid out the road to perfection, has placed us at the beginning of the route, and then accompanies us as we make our way along. As God walks with us, He stands behind us to urge us on, even as He stands in front of us, pointing the way.

As we compare Isaiah’s vision to the reality of the world in which we live today, we might be tempted to give up on the journey before we’ve taken even one step. The world we share with others is marked by violence, discord and poverty. An inordinate focus on the self seems to be the modern religion of our time. In the midst of all these changes, the Christian faith seems to have been pushed aside. The Church has lost much of its influence and place in society.

And yet, Christians the world over still believe in that future vision of Isaiah, that time when God’s rule will be ushered in in all its fullness and perfection. The Church will have a place in making these changes a reality, for we are assured in Holy Scripture that the “gates of hell will not prevail” over it.

You and I, therefore, have work to do.

We are called to proclaim the Good News (Gospel) of Jesus Christ by what we say, what we do, and how we conduct our lives. We are called to say that coming to a lively and intimate relationship with Jesus Christ makes all the difference in life. For, in Christ, everything in life takes on a different meaning. True meaning of life can only be found in Christ.

We affirm that God’s rule will come in God’s good time. We do this each Sunday as we recite the Nicene Creed. Success in bringing about God’s vision of perfection is assured. That doesn’t mean that we can be complacent about the journey.

Realizing that we have no basis before God upon which to stake any claim is the beginning of the journey. Only then can God fit us out for His service.

We stand therefore, with those who stood before John the Baptist at the Jordan River, and John’s voice admonishes us just as it did those who stood before him: “Do not presume to say that you are Abraham’s children.” For God will work with us, if we are willing to admit our helplessness. If we aren’t willing to come to terms with our sinful condition, then God will work around us somehow, using others to accomplish His will.

AMEN.

Advent 1, Year A (2019)

Isaiah 2: 1–5 / Psalm 122 / Romans 13: 11–14 / Matthew 24: 36–44

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, December 1, 2019.

 “IS ANYTHING MISSING? HAVE I FORGOTTEN SOMETHING?”

(Homily text:  Matthew 24: 36–44)

A ritual for new recruits in the military services is the inspection. The ritual is especially challenging for new members of the military, due to the fact that they’re still getting used to doing things the way the military does them, instead of relying on patterns they may have been used to in civilian life.

The inspection is usually conducted by the drill instructor (often called, in the Army anyway, the drill sergeant). I suspect that much of the ritual and the expectations surrounding the inspection process haven’t changed all that much since my own induction into the Army many years ago.

The inspection causes one to pay attention – close attention – to detail. For example, the new recruit will want to be sure that everything that is supposed to be on display and available for inspection is not only present, but is in serviceable condition. Not only must the items that are required meet those two criteria, but the recruit’s locker itself is also the subject of inspection. Here, it is often the white glove inspection that reveals hidden (and forgotten) nooks and crannies of the locker.

So, most recruits probably ask themselves two key questions as they are preparing for an inspection: “Is anything missing? Have I forgotten something?”

These two questions might also prepare us for this season of Advent, as we get ready for the Lord’s first coming in human form as a baby, born in Bethlehem, and as we get ready for that eventual coming of the Lord again in power and great glory. Or – as the Nicene Creed puts it – “He (the Lord Jesus Christ) shall come again, with glory, to judge both the quick and the dead…”[1] Our Gospel text from Matthew reminds us that no one knows exactly when the Lord will come again.  The Creed simply affirms the truth that this event will take place someday, in God’s good time and according to God’s plan.

These two questions could assist us mightily in this holy season, as we ask ourselves, “Is anything missing (in my walk with God)? Have I forgotten (or neglected) anything?”

It might be easy, given the focus of the Advent season, to concentrate on the Lord’s first coming and the Lord’s eventual coming a second time. But the truth is that the Lord comes to us daily. Each and every day constitutes a visitation of the Lord, that One who knows the innermost secrets of our hearts, that One who searches out the nooks and the crannies of our minds, inspecting with the white gloves of holiness the ways in which we may have neglected to clean up those things in our lives that fail to reflect the Lord’s high standards of holiness.

Just as the pace of preparation for the drill sergeant’s inspection causes the new recruits to engage in frenetic activity to prepare for the time when the drill sergeant’s searching eye will disclose both successes and shortcomings, so, too, must we engage in a heightened pace of preparation to receive the Lord into our hearts, in order that we might provide a worthy home for Him to dwell therein.

A word of caution might be in order at this juncture: Just as the new recruit’s belongings must meet a standard by which they are judged to be serviceable, not new, so, too, must the condition of our hearts and minds meet a standard by which they are serviceable, able to do the Lord’s work and will in the world. For the truth is that no one of us meets a standard of perfection. That won’t happen for us in this earthly life. But we mustn’t be content to simply live in a “serviceable” condition. We must allow the Lord to point toward perfection, for that is the goal of our walk with Him. By allowing the Lord to point out the ways in which we’re “OK” for now, we create the pathway by which He can show us a yet more perfect way.

Our prayer might be this: “Come, Holy Spirit, and show us the ways by which we yet have need to prepare our hearts and minds to receive the Lord. Amen.”

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[1]   The wording provided here comes from the traditional language version of the Creed, one that we will be using throughout the season of Advent. It may be found in the Book of Common Prayer, 1979, at page 327.