Epiphany 3, Year A (2020)

Isaiah 9: 1–4 / Psalm 27: 1, 5–13 / I Corinthians 1: 10–18 / Matthew 4: 12–23

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, January 26, 2020.

 “DIVISION, SEPARATION, OR UNITY?”

(Homily text: I Corinthians 1: 10-18)

Many times when I have occasion to read the various letters in the New Testament, I come to the conclusion that the Holy Spirit must have prompted the letter writer to address some specific problem or situation, for it seems as though most of the letters in the New Testament are situational. (I guess that’s a fairly obvious observation to make.)

In the fullness of time, that same Holy Spirit led the Church to the conclusion that God speaks in some unique way in these letters, leading the Church to include them in the Canon[1] of Holy Scripture.

Then, the train of my thinking often leads me to the conclusion that the Holy Spirit, and the Church, following the Spirit’s leading, have passed along these letters to us because we, in our day and time in the Church, may well face similar situations to those that were addressed by the original writer, writing to a specific church or group in the early years of the Christian movement’s history. Put another way, we might say that the Spirit has a message for us: “I’ve seen to it that the record of what happened early on in the Church’s life has been made available to you. Pay attention to it, for at some time or another, you, too, may well have to deal with a similar problem. What’s been made available to you can serve as a guide to how you should handle the situation.”

All of which brings me to the topic of today’s Epistle reading, from the first chapter of St. Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth.

The Corinthian church was, compared to the others that Paul had founded, perhaps the most contentious, divided and problematic church he had to deal with. Those early Christians in Corinth seemed to reflect the values and the behaviors of the pagan, Gentile world in which they lived. To get an idea of the cultural setting of the church in Corinth, we should spend a little time describing the nature of the place.

Corinth was a seaport town, located on the eastern side of a narrow neck of land about six miles wide. Ships coming from the east would offload their cargo in Corinth, and that cargo would be carried in carts along a road (the remains of which can still be seen, I am told) to the western side, where it would be loaded onto another ship which was headed west. (The reverse pattern also existed.) By this method, a long journey around the southern tip of Greece was avoided.

Corinth was, then, at a crossroads, a place where people from all over the known world were coming, going, or passing through. Many of those travelers carried elements of their background and ethnicity with them, including their religious practices and ideas.

Moreover, Corinth was a Roman city, meaning that it was, morally, a freewheeling place. It was this aspect of the culture in Corinth that caused many of the problems in the early Church situated there.

All of the above is by way of background, a look at the situation in the community of Corinth.

Now, in the first chapter of his first letter to this church, Paul writes that he has received reports that the Corinthian church is badly divided. Divided into splinter groups, each one centered around a leader in the early Christian movement. Some claimed to be followers of Paul, some of Peter (Paul uses the Greek word for Peter, “Cephas”), some of Apollos. Perhaps in a bid to outdo all the others, some claimed to be followers of Christ. (I’d wager that this last group is the only one to “get it right”, but I also suspect they used their claims as a way to show their spiritual superiority over other members in the church.)

In the face of this situation, Paul asks them to be united in Christ, that all of them agree, and that there be no divisions among them.

Why is unity in the Church important?

As I think about the possible answers, here are the ones that come to mind:

Idolatry:  To put anything before our allegiance to God, made known to us in Christ, is - pure and simple – idolatry. In fact, making something, anything number one in importance in the place of God is the basic meaning of the word “idol” or “idolatry”. That something, when put in first –-and God’s – place, can be anything. It can be an idea, it can be a cause (even a very good and worthy one), it can be an object (like a prized possession). Anything, even very good and worthwhile things, can become an idol. It seems like the Corinthians were putting their allegiance to a specific person, a person who was simply doing God’s work as a servant, above their allegiance to Christ.

Witness to the world:  In chapter five of the first letter to the Corinthian church, Paul has to admonish these early Christians for their tolerance of a situation in their midst having to do with gross moral laxity.[2] He says that not even the pagans among whom they live with tolerate such a thing, and yet, he says, the Corinthian church seems proud of what was going on. Paul’s concern isn’t just for the spiritual health of the man and the church, he is also concerned about the Church’s witness to the world around them. In many of his letters to other churches, Paul admonishes them, telling them that they can’t behave like they used to before they came to Christ. Now, in Christ, he often says, you are a new creation, the old is now gone, the new has come. He might well have described his message this way, “You are a new person in Christ, now behave like it!”

Valuing one another: The Corinthian attitudes whereby they tried to “get a rung up” on other members of the church had the effect of diminishing others. But, in Christ, each and every one is important. Christ died for all, Paul says, making each individual person extraordinarily valuable to God.

Today, some in the Church seem to want to concentrate on secondary issues, some of which are good and worthwhile causes. But the risk is that the Church will turn its attention to those things, losing – in the process – our focus on God. One way to look at the proper place and relationship of God’s rightful place in comparison with other things we might concentrate on is to ask this question: “By placing importance on this or that cause, do we run the risk of turning the Church into an extension of a social service club, or an extension of a social action group, or even an ecological advocacy group?” The danger is that the Church will become divided, split into special interest groups, perhaps even with the danger that the Church will lapse into a Corinthian-like quest for moral superiority.

“Keep the main thing, the main thing,” Paul would, most likely, tell us. That main thing is Jesus Christ. Whatever else we might want to think about doing in Christ’s name must have some compelling theological understanding for undertaking that work. That’s what makes the Church different from the secular world around us, for we are called to make sense of the world and its ways through the lens of Jesus Christ.

AMEN.         

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[1]   Canon is a word that is used in a number of different ways. In connection with Holy Scripture, it refers to those books that are included in the collection of writings that are considered to be scriptural. The word itself comes from the Greek, where it originally meant “rule”.

[2]   The specific situation involved a man who was sexually involved with his stepmother.

Epiphany 2, Year A (2020)

Isaiah 49: 1–7 / Psalm 40: 1–12 / I Corinthians 1: 1–9 / John 1: 29–42

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, January 19, 2020.

 “CALL, RESPONSE, CHANGE, REPUTATION”

(Homily text: John 1: 29–42)

Let’s consider the process by which people come to faith, how they respond to the Lord’s call, what differences that response makes to their lives, and what reputation they leave behind as a testimony to God’s working in their lives. We can see the differences their work and ministries made often only in retrospect, as we take stock of the things we know about them, often many years into their ministries, or many years after they have passed from the scene. To be clear, the process involves four steps:  Call, response, change and reputation.

This morning’s Gospel text recounts Jesus’ call to Andrew and his brother, Simon (who is better known by his nickname, Peter). Both were engaged in a family fishing business on the Sea of Galilee. They were also disciples of John the Baptist. (The Gospel writer John is the only one to relate that information to us.)

In this morning’s text, Jesus calls these two men into His service. It’s safe to say that the process we’ve outlined above unfolds in the case of Andrew and of his brother, Peter:  The Lord calls, their lives change (drastically and dramatically), they respond, and they become known for some aspect (or aspects) of their work in God’s service.

In our text this morning, we hear Jesus offer a phrase we will read often in the Fourth Gospel, “Come and see”. “Come and see,” Jesus says, in response to the two brothers’ question, “Where are you staying?”

What do we know about these two brothers? (In actuality, we know a lot more about these two than we know about many of the other original twelve who would become Disciples and then Apostles.)

Let’s begin with Andrew. He is known for making connections between the Lord and others. In other words, Andrew is a “bringer”. In this morning’s text, John tells us that Andrew finds his brother, Simon, and tells him, “We have found the Messiah.” Later on, as Jesus is about to feed the crowd of five thousand, it is Andrew who brings the young boy to the Lord with the loaves and the fishes. (See John 6: 8 – 9.) And still later, as some Greeks ask to see the Lord, it is Andrew who brought them to the Lord. (See John 12: 22.)

As we turn to Andrew’s brother, Peter, there is a lot more information known to us. For one thing, he, Simon (Peter) seems to be impetuous, hard-headed, and often blundering into situations. But he becomes an effective and powerful leader - in time - of the very early followers of Jesus. Recall how it is Peter who jumps over the side of the boat to walk over the water to Jesus. It is Peter who is the first to proclaim Jesus as the Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed One (that’s what Messiah and Christ, terms coming from the Hebrew (Messiah) and the Greek (Christ) mean). It is Peter to who denies the Lord three times. It is Peter who – along with John – is one of the first witnesses of the risen Christ on Easter Sunday morning. It is Peter who becomes a powerful and eloquent leader of the early Christian Church (but only after the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost).

These two Disciples-become-Apostles answered the Lord’s call. Their answer, “Yes”, meant change for them as they left their occupations as fishermen to become proclaimers of God’s truth to the wider world. As a direct outcome of their work, they have left for us a reputation, things we know about them.

You and I follow the same pattern that Andrew and Peter followed. Their course – and ours – involves: Call, response, change and reputation.

You and I answer God’s call, God’s invitation, by entering the waters of baptism. We say “No” to our old way of life, and we rise to a new way of life in Christ. (I am depending on St. Paul’s explanation of the meaning of baptism as we read it in Romans 6: 3 – 9.)

Answering God’s call often involves a lot more than simply being the recipient of the Sacrament of Baptism. It involves growing into that call. It involves coming to understand just what it means, just what it means to die to ourselves and to become fully alive in Christ, just what are the implications, of saying “Yes” to Jesus Christ. Oftentimes, saying “Yes” involves coming to what can be called a “second birth” experience, whereby we come to some sort of an “Aha” moment of understanding. It is at that point, whether we can identify a specific time, place, circumstance or prayer or not, that our relationship with Christ becomes a true, living, dynamic relationship with God through Christ.

But then there will be changes. Saying “Yes” to God means changes, changes in how we think, changes in how we behave, changes in how we love, changes in what we hold to be holy, or otherwise. If there are no changes, then our experience of a new relationship with Christ is suspect. God never leaves us where He finds us, as the life experience of Andrew and his brother, Peter, testify.

As the changes are underway, we’ll begin to build some sort of a reputation. OK, it’s fair to say that perhaps we won’t be fully aware of the reputation we’re crafting, and perhaps that’s a good thing. Andrew and Peter, for example, weren’t the ones to assess their own work on God’s behalf, it fell to the early Christians and the Gospel writers to make those assessments. But rest assured, we – and they – are/were building a reputation.

The question then naturally arises, and it is one we should ask ourselves, each of us: “What sort of a reputation am I crafting as I seek to do God’s work?”

AMEN.

Epiphany 1, Year A (2020)

Isaiah 42: 1–9 / Psalm 29 / Acts 10: 34–43 / Matthew 3: 13–17

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, January 12, 2020.

“FOLLOW ME!”

(Homily text: Matthew 3: 13-17)

In each of the cycles of appointed readings, Years A, B and C, we hear the account of our Lord Jesus’ baptism on the First Sunday after the Epiphany.

At first glance, the event itself doesn’t seem to be all that unusual. After all, on the surface, what we see happening is that Jesus has come to do what many others were doing, going down into the waters of the Jordan River, confessing their sins.

But his last point - that business having to do with sin - ought to be the departure point for us as we look more closely at what happened. After all, as Jesus’ earthly life unfolded, it became clear that He is the sinless one, so – naturally – He has no need to confess anything.

The question then naturally arises, “Why, then, did Jesus want to be baptized?” I think the answer is fairly obvious, and it is an answer that has to do completely with Jesus’ incarnation, His coming among us to assume our humanity fully.

The answer is, it seems to me, simply this:  Jesus is saying to us, “Follow me!” Put another way, what He is saying to us is, “Do as I do, not just as I say.”

Our Lord Jesus Christ demonstrates by the things He does that He isn’t asking us to do anything that He, Himself, isn’t willing to do and hasn’t already done. That’s the basic understanding and importance of Jesus’ incarnation, His coming among us to be fully human.

So the Lord’s call to us is, “Follow me!”

“Follow me”, the Lord bids us, to come into the waters of baptism ourselves, confessing in the process that we are helpless to improve our own spiritual condition. “Follow me”, the Lord says, dying to our old way of life as we undergo baptism, and rising to a new, better and more godly way of life as we rise out of the waters of baptism. (Here, I am depending on St. Paul’s description of the meaning of baptism as we read it in Romans 6: 3–9.)

Follow me in living a completely integrated life, reflecting in the things we do, things that others can see, the spiritual integrity we fold into our innermost selves, for that’s what our Lord did and does. “Follow me”, the Lord says, putting away any possibility of hypocrisy, reflecting the Lord’s indwelling in our hearts.

Follow me in offering a radical welcome to every person we encounter along life’s pathway. For our Lord Jesus Christ did just that, being willing to bridge the gaps that divided people, one from another, in the time of His earthly ministry, just as they divide people from one another in our time.

Follow me in showing others that life in Christ makes everything different and everything new. For just as the Lord never left us wherever He found us, so, too, must we never be content to leave others wherever we find them. Life in Christ, a genuine life in Christ, always means change, change for the better.

AMEN.

Christmas 2, Year A (2020)

Jeremiah 31: 7–14 / Psalm 84: 1–8 / Ephesians 1: 3–6, 15–19a / Matthew 2: 13–15, 19–23

This is the homily given at St. John’s; Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, January 5, 2020.

“EXILE, PRESERVATION AND MISSION”

(Homily texts:  Jeremiah 31: 7–14 & Matthew 2: 13–15, 19–23)

Our Old Testament text, taken from the prophet Jeremiah, and our Gospel text, from Matthew, chapter two, are linked to one another, for both deal with exile and preservation. Although the texts do not specifically tell us so, the wider narrative involved includes the reality that God’s action to return those who were exiled, preserving them in the process, is for the greater purpose of using those exiles for His purposes and mission in the world.

We would do well to trace the wider narrative, especially in Jeremiah.

Jeremiah has warned God’s people living in the Southern Kingdom of Judah that, because of their idolatry and wicked ways, God’s judgment would lead them into exile in Babylon. Along the way, false prophets contradict Jeremiah’s warnings, telling anyone who would listen that Jeremiah’s prophecy would never come to pass. But, eventually, Jeremiah was proved right, as Jerusalem fell to the Babylonian army in 586 BC. Many of the inhabitants of Judah (though not all) were carried off into exile in Babylon.

In chapter thirty, we read Jeremiah’s prophecy that the exiles’ time in Babylon will come to an end, and in God’s good time, they will come home again, to begin anew their relationship with God. Our passage from chapter thirty-one, read this morning, is part of Jeremiah’s prediction of the new and brighter day that is coming.

Now, let’s turn out attention to Matthew’s account of Jesus’ exile in Egypt.

Joseph is warned in a dream, once the Wise Men had departed, that King Herod (the Great) was intent on killing the holy child. The Wise Men, Matthew tells us, were the ones who brought Jesus’ existence to Herod’s notice. Historical accounts recount Herod’s brutal ways. Herod was especially keen, apparently, to preserve his own position and power, often using extremely brutal measures to do so, so Matthew’s account of the slaughter of all the male children two years old and younger in Bethlehem (verses 16 – 18 of chapter two) at Herod’s command is entirely consistent with the historical account of his other atrocities.

Joseph, in response to the warning, takes Jesus and Mary out of harm’s way into Egypt. In the fulness of time, Herod died (in 4 BC), and Joseph, in another dream is told that it is now safe to return to the Holy Land. However, Joseph learns that one of Herod’s sons, Archelaus, is ruling in Judea. (Archelaus’ reign lasted from 4 BC to 6 AD). Historical records tell us that Archelaus was brutal, just as his father had been. So Joseph headed north to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, and a place that was out of Archelaus’ reach.

The circumstances of the exile in Babylon and Jesus’ exile in Egypt are different: The Babylonian exile occurred as a result of military conquest, while Jesus’ exile was for the purpose escaping danger, with the goal of preserving Jesus’ life. In both cases, however, God preserved the exiles, so that they could do God’s will in the world once their exiles were over.

God’s chosen people, the Jews’ were called to be a light to the nations. The Babylonian exile cured them of their errant, idol-worshipping ways. Once they returned from exile, they were faithful in proclaiming the truth of the one God, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

Jesus came to be a light to the world, as well. His coming proves that God continues to be active in the world. Jesus’ coming pushes back the boundaries of darkness, as John’s Gospel account reminds us, saying, “The light (Jesus Christ) shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1: 5)

How about you and me?

Have we ever been exiles from God? And if so, how has God preserved us in some way or another so that we could do God’s will in the world?

These are important questions, perhaps the most important ones we might ever ask ourselves.

The truth is that we are exiled from God by virtue of our sinfulness. We all know how to do “bad stuff”, don’t we? When we acknowledge our true spiritual condition, and our helplessness in being able to do anything about that condition, then we are ready to undergo the spiritual death and resurrection that baptism signifies. St. Paul says it well in describing the meaning of baptism. In Romans 6: 3–5, we read this: “Do you know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.”

Baptism, therefore saves us from ourselves and from our self-destructive ways. Baptism preserves us in order that we might share the light of Christ with the world around us. When we shed that divine light faithfully, that wonderful light will overcome the darkness we see around us.

We have been saved, preserved, not for our own self interest and welfare, but for the advancement of God’s purposes in the world. There is no higher calling than that.

AMEN.