Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Ash Wednesday (2020)


Joel 2: 1–2, 12–19 / Psalm 103: 8–14 / II Corinthians 5: 20b – 6: 10 / Matthew 6: 1–6, 16-21
This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Wednesday, February 26, 2020.
 “A SEASON OF ATONEMENT”
(Homily text: Joel 2: 1–2, 12-19)
God’s people in ancient times observed a regular schedule of worship. Theirs was – and is – a liturgical life, that is to say, their worship of God involved not just the priests who led their gatherings, but the people themselves had an active role to play, as well.[1] Festivals were appointed to be kept under the provisions of the Law of Moses, as were times for repentance. A day was set aside for the confession of sin and wrongdoing, a day known as the Day of Atonement (Hebrew: Yom Kippur), which falls in September or October of the Jewish calendar as it is observed today.[2]
Times in the Jewish liturgical calendar were set aside to give thanks for God’s saving acts: Passover is one example. A time was set aside for remembering the dedication of the Temple in Jerusalem. Times were set aside to circumcise baby boys, and to offer the first-born to God in the rite of presentation. (We recalled our Lord’s presentation a few weeks ago on February 2nd.) These are just a few examples of what constituted a rich variety of worship events.
Though we know a good bit about the structure of the liturgical calendar as it was practiced in the Temple, we know relatively little about the actual rite that was used. (When we use the word “rite” in this context, we are talking about the actual words, the actual text of what is said and sung during worship.) The first seven chapters of Leviticus spell out in detail how worship was to be conducted. (Today, we would call these directions rubrics.)
But let’s return to the matter of the Day of Atonement, or Yom Kippur, since we are at the beginning of a season of atonement, known as Lent.
Atoning for sins for God’s people who worshiped according to the requirements of the Law wasn’t just a matter of doing undertaking the rigorous work of self-examination and confession on one day. A brief review of the liturgical requirements of the early chapters of the book of Leviticus reveal that recurring offerings were required for all sorts of sins. A call to repentance, to amendment of life, and to a renewal of a close relationship with God could come at pretty much any time throughout the year
So it is that the Old Testament reading appointed for this day, from the prophet Joel, begins with these words: “Blow a trumpet in Zion; sound an alarm on my holy mountain! Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, for the day of the Lord is coming near.” And a little later, Joel makes clear what is needed in connection with the sounding of this alarm: “’Yet even now,’ declares the Lord, return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning…”
This business of self-examination, of trying to see ourselves in the way that God might see us, isn’t for the faint-of-heart. The blunt and ugly truth is that, if left to our own devises, we’d just as well hide our shortcomings, or ignore them. (We act as is God behaves like we’d like to.) To begin the process of self-examination, we are called to admit that our ability to see ourselves clearly is hampered by the sin that resides within, so we’ll have to begin by admitting our own spiritual myopia, and to ask for the help of the Holy Spirit to sharpen our vision.
The more I think about it, the more I have come to believe that the design of the liturgies of the Law of Moses where sin was concerned was to make an object lesson about the ways of sin. Sin quite often has an attractive leading edge to it, something that seeks to capture our attention and interest, something that we might like or want to do. But if we succumb to such impulses, the outcome is often destructive and ugly. So it was under the Law of Moses that the offerings for sin were repulsive and ugly, for they entailed the slaughter of an animal.
If you and I loved and served a God who was holy and righteous, but who was not loving and merciful, we’d want to hide from such a God. We’d want to burrow under as much cover as we could find, in hopes of escaping God’s judgment. But the wonderful truth is that God is both righteous and holy, and who is loving and merciful, all at the same time. Thanks be to God!
Moreover, God stands ready to hear our prayers of confession, much more so than we are to offer those prayers. A wonderful prayer (collect) in the Prayer Book [3] states this truth quite well:
         “Almighty and everlasting God, who art always more ready to hear than we to pray, and art wont to give more than either we desire or deserve: Pour down upon us the abundance of thy mercy, forgiving us those things whereof our conscience is afraid, and giving us those good things which we re not worthy to ask, but through the merits of Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord; who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”


[1]   The basic meaning of the word liturgy derives from two Greek words which mean “the work of the people”.
[2]   In former times, the Jewish new year was observed in the spring, Nowadays, the new year (Hebrew: Rosh Hashana) begins in September or October.
[3]   This is the Collect of the Day for Proper 22, which falls in early October each year. It may be found in the Book of Common Prayer, 1979, on page 182.

Sunday, February 23, 2020

Last Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A (2020)


Exodus 24: 12–18 / Psalm 2 / II Peter 1: 16–21 / Matthew 17: 1–9
This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, February 23, 2020.
 “ROLLER-COASTER RIDE”(Homily texts:  II Peter 1: 16–21 &  Matthew 17: 1–9)
Each year on the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, we are treated to the hearing (and consideration) of the account of our Lord Jesus’ miraculous transfiguration[1] on a mountain.[2] This event is recorded by the three Synoptic Gospel authors, Matthew, Mark and Luke.
Three of the Lord’s disciples, Peter, James and John, are treated to a glimpse of the Lord’s identity as He reflects the unique glory of God. The Lord’s appearance is changed, His face shining like the sun, and His clothes becoming dazzlingly bright
As if this glimpse of God’s glory (the Hebrew word which describes this unique, divine glory is Shekinah) isn’t enough, these three disciples are also given a vision of Moses and Elijah, appearing alongside the Lord. Moses is the giver of the Law, while Elijah is among the greatest of the Old Testament prophets, and the one – according to first-century Judaism’s understanding of Malachi 4: 5-6 – who would herald the coming of the promised Messiah.[3]
For the three chosen witnesses, the disclosure of the Lord’s identity was a mountaintop experience. Notice how Peter, writing many years later, describes his memories of the event in our Epistle reading for this morning.
But as much as Peter (and perhaps the other two disciples) wanted to preserve the moment (by erecting three booths or tents) and to stay on the mountaintop with the Lord, that would not be the reality of the future which lay before them. They would go down from the mountaintop, on their way to Jerusalem, to Holy Week and the events of Good Friday, and to the mountaintop experience of Easter Sunday morning.
It’s tempting to want to stay on the mountaintop. We, each of us, harbors such a desire within our hearts, I suspect.
But if we back up in Matthew’s text a bit, we see that there were already highs and lows taking place, often in short succession to one another. For example, in chapter sixteen of Matthew’s account, notice that it is Peter who affirms Jesus’ identity as the Messiah, God’s Anointed One. Jesus affirms Peter’s confession, saying that Peter didn’t come to that knowledge by normal human ability, but only because the Father had revealed this to him. Peter’s confession is a high point, to be sure. But then, Jesus apparently decided that now that His disciples knew who he really was, they were ready to hear about the next chapter of God’s plan for His Messiah: The plan that involved pain, suffering and death. Peter reacts, saying, “Forbid it Lord, this shall never happen to you.”  We all know the Lord’s response: “Get behind me, Satan….” Here we have a low point, taking place shortly after the high point of Peter’s confession.
We shouldn’t been too hard on this original band of disciples. After all, God was doing something different, something new, something spectacular in sending Jesus, the Christ, to come among us as one of us. No wonder they didn’t seem to “get it” every now and again. No wonder they all ran away when Jesus was betrayed. No wonder they didn’t believe Mary Magdalene’s report that the Lord had risen from the dead on Easter Sunday morning. All of this was new and different. I suspect that each of us, if we found ourselves in the place where those original disciples were, would react in pretty much the same way. I know I would have, most likely. (I can’t resist adding that we – you and I – have an advantage those original disciples didn’t have: We have the advantage of something scholars call “The Reader’s Perspective”. This perspective allows us to see the whole story.)
Because all of this was so new and different, it’s understandable that the disciples weren’t able to use the high points of Jesus’ time and ministry to carry them through the low spots, the tough times they were to experience. In retrospect, they do come to understand what it was that God was doing. In retrospect, they come to value and use the high points, and especially the Lord’s resurrection, to carry them through the challenges and dangers that would await them as they went out into the world, carrying the Good News (Gospel) of what God had done in the work, life, death and raising of Jesus Christ.
Wouldn’t each of us want to live our lives on the mountaintop, all the time? I know the idea sounds pretty good to me. Perhaps it does to you, too. But the reality and the truth is that life simply isn’t that way. Not especially when we realize that we are living in a sinful and broken world, a world which stands in rebellion to God’s way. As followers (disciples) of Jesus, we are called to live in a way that’s markedly different from the ways of the world. If we are faithful to that calling, we’re going to have difficulty and challenges. Those difficulties and challenges may well represent some pretty low spots in our life’s journey.
But in the midst of trials, tribulations and problems, it’s critical to hold in mind some high point that God has granted us in the past. Those memories and the enduring reality of them (a reality we hold in our hearts, not just our minds) can reassure us that God is present in the high spots and in the low spots, enabling us to see the “stuff” that comes our way through with faithfulness.
AMEN.



[1]   We also celebrate the Transfiguration event on a holy day reserved for this purpose, August 6th.
[2]   The traditional site where this event took place is Mount Tabor, which has become a significant place for pilgrims to visit in the Holy Land. Mount Tabor is located a short distance southwest of the Sea of Galilee. But it’s possible that this event may have taken place on Mount Hermon, which is located further north, in modern-day Lebanon. Mount Hermon is close to the city of Caesarea Philippi, which, Matthew tells us, was where Jesus and His disciples were returning from when Peter made his confession about the Lord’s identity.
[3]   Apparently, first-century Judaism believed that Moses never died. Elijah was swept up into heaven without seeing death, according to II Kings 2: 1 – 12b.

Sunday, February 02, 2020

The Presentation, February 2, 2020


Malachi 3: 1–4 / Psalm 84 / Hebrews 2: 14–18 / Luke 2: 22–40
This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, February 2, 2020.
 “PRESENTED TO THE LORD”
(Homily text: Luke 2: 22-40)
Once every five or six years (depending on how many leap years have come in between), the feast of the Presentation is celebrated on February 2nd, when that date falls on a Sunday.[1] The Presentation is always celebrated on February 2nd, which falls forty days after Christmas. This year, the date falls on a Sunday, allowing us to celebrate and observe it in a way that we might not do so, when the date falls midweek.
Since we don’t encounter this celebration and its attendant meanings very often, it might be good to take a closer look at the importance of this day in our Lord Jesus’ life, and – consequently – in our own lives.
This festival is known by three different titles or names:  1. The Presentation of our Lord Jesus Christ in the Temple; 2. The Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary; and 3. Candlemas (sometimes spelled “Candlemass”, which offers a clue as to its meaning).
The first two titles refer to the double meaning and ceremonial action that took place when Jesus was presented to the Lord in the Temple on the fortieth day if His earthly life. Both the importance and the meaning are to be found in the requirements of the Law of Moses. (It’s worth noting that it is Luke, alone among the Gospel writers, who relates this event to us.) The third title denotes the Church’s practice of blessing the candles which will be used in its liturgical celebrations throughout the ensuing year.
It is to the Law that we now turn.
In the Law, in Leviticus 12: 1 - 8, we find a requirement that the mother who had given birth was to be purified. This event was to take place on the fortieth day of the child’s life.[2] Apparently, the idea behind this requirement had to do with the view taken by God’s people in those ancient times toward blood and its significance. Blood was the life-giving force, they recognized, but contact with blood made one ritually unclean. Hence this requirement.
But there’s another meaning which is attached to this day, and we find those requirements in Exodus 13: 11 – 16. There, God’s people are told that they are to offer their first-born to the Lord. This is in remembrance of the last and final plague that God visited upon the Egyptians when God’s people were held in slavery there. God’s angel of death visited the Egyptians, killing their first-born, but the people of God were spared whenever the angel saw the blood of a lamb which had been applied to their doorposts and lintels. (The event is known as the Passover.) So God’s people were to remember this event, God’s deliverance, and they were to offer their first-born to God in thanksgiving for His saving act.
But instead of losing their first-born, God’s people were to redeem them back by the offering of a lamb, or in the case of people who were poor, but the offering of two pigeons or turtledoves.[3]
The instructions in Exodus make it clear that the ensuing generations were to be told what the meaning of this redemption was, making it clear that God had saved and had redeemed His people, and so His people, in thanksgiving for this, were to redeem – to receive back – their first-born by paying the price of redemption, that is, a lamb or two birds.
Luke tells us that Jesus was presented to the Lord in accordance with the requirements of the Law, and that Mary was purified in accordance with those requirements. But nowhere in the Law is there a stipulation about the timing of the presentation of the first-born. It’s possible that, over time, the two events were conflated into one observance. Luke indicates that the two events took place at the same time.
The Law’s requirements amount to a liturgical observance. We would say that the Law’s requirements amount to a sacramental act, a Sacrament being defined as an “outward and visible sign of any inward and invisible grace.” Liturgy involves doing something that is outward and visible, but something which points beyond itself to a deeper and truer reality. The Exodus text makes it clear that the meaning was to be explicitly explained to the ensuing generations, whenever the outward act was done.
While we’re thinking about liturgy and about the Sacraments, we should point out that the ceremonies of the liturgy bring about change. When people are married, for example, their lives change and they remember the day of their wedding for the years which will follow. Liturgy has the capacity to cast a beneficial shadow over the lives of those who are involved in it. Liturgy, properly done, Sacraments, properly observed, have the ability to change things.
In a sense, you and I have been presented, dedicated, to the Lord. We have also been redeemed, given back our lives as God’s gift. This is the basic meaning of baptism.
In Holy Baptism, we die to our old selves and our old lives (see Paul’s explanation in Romans 6: 3 – 9), but it is God who has paid the price of our redemption in the sending of Jesus Christ to take on our humanity. God is the redeemer, we are the beneficiaries of that redemption. When babies or very young children are presented for baptism, it is the job of the child’s parents, Godparents and the entire Church to let that child know about the meaning of their baptisms, in much the same way that God’s people in ancient times were told to instruct their children, grandchildren and the generations yet unborn about the meaning and the importance of God’s redeeming acts, done in Egypt.
We said a moment ago that liturgy, properly done, casts a beneficial shadow over the times which will follow it. Life is forever changed, somehow. For, you see, we are called to remember. Remember is a word which means to “re-member”, to put together again just like the first time. Remembering is much more than a mental exercise, it is bringing the past forward into the present and into the future.
The question then arises: In Holy Baptism, we were presented to the Lord, and we have been redeemed, given our lives back, if you will, given a better, fuller and more wonderful life. In thanksgiving for that gift, we are called to continue to present ourselves to the Lord.
How are we doing that? In what specific ways are we pointing to God’s generosity, made present in the past, but brought forward into the present, with the guarantee of its blessings in the future?
AMEN.


[1]   The Presentation may be celebrated on a Sunday when February 2nd is a Sunday. It is one of three Feasts of our Lord that may be celebrated on this day. Other feasts are transferred to a weekday when their assigned dates fall on a Sunday.
[2]   The Law doubled the time frame if the child was a daughter.
[3]   Apparently the fact that Joseph and Mary offered the two birds was in indication that they were not well-off.