Sunday, December 26, 2021

Christmas 1, Year C (2021)

Isaiah 61:10 – 62:3 / Psalm 147:13 - 21 / John 1:1 – 18

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, December 26, 2021.

 

“BEING A PART OF THE DIVINE DRAMA”

(Homily text: John 1: 1 – 18)

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1: 1 – 4)[1]

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.” (Genesis 1:1 – 3)

It’s no coincidence that that the beginning of John’s Gospel account and the beginning of the book of Genesis have such striking parallels, things like “in the beginning”, God’s speaking things into being, and the creation of light. Scholars have long noticed these similarities. Both accounts describe a divine drama, God’s plan of creation of the world, and His re-creation in the sending of the Christ, that One who takes up our flesh and “tents” among us as Jesus, as John 1:14 tells us.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God….

In these first eighteen verses of the beginning of John’s Gospel account, we are treated to a divine drama, a play which unfolds on the stage of God’s inner life and on the stage of human affairs. We are spectators as we watch how God interacts with His Anointed One, that is, Jesus, the Christ, as we will learn in verse seventeen of today’s reading.

We watch as God speaks into being the light which has come into the world, Jesus, the Christ. We marvel as we realize that this is cosmic, not-of-this-world stuff. We try to bend our minds around the concept of “in the beginning”, stretching our imaginations to try to understand just how long ago that must have been. (Answer: Far more back in time than any of us can conceive of.)

And yet, the actors in this divine drama, God and God’s Anointed One, invite us to come on stage and to take roles in this awesome drama. We have a part to play as supporting actors and actresses as we assist those who are still in the audience to understand more about the main characters in this play. Our interaction with the main players helps to define the character, the nature and the motives of those stars in this drama.

Our intent must also be to suggest to those still in the audience that they, too, can come onstage and assume supporting roles of their own.

The theme of this wonderful piece of divine theater is that God cared enough for the world which he created and which he sustains to intervene in the shape of the plot of this world in order to reshape that plot into His desires and will. That plot is, therefore, forever changed, and changed for the better.

Thanks be to God!

AMEN. 


[1]   I am making use of the English Standard Version of the Bible in citing these verses. Normally, we make use of the New Revised Standard Version.


Friday, December 24, 2021

The Eve of the Nativity (Christmas Eve), Year C (2021

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

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Friday, December 24, 2021.

“THE CHRISTMAS STORY: A LOVE STORY”

(Homily text: Luke 2:1 – 20)

It can be refreshing and helpful to step back from a very familiar story in order to ask ourselves, “What is the basic message or truth that we’re supposed to glean from this?”

The Christmas story, familiar to most of us who’ve had any experience with the Church or with the Bible (OK, I admit there are fewer people who fall into one or both of those two categories these days than there might have been in times past) know the basics of the story, either from Matthew’s account or from Luke’s account. It’s Luke’s account which we are hearing and considering tonight.

What’s going on with these accounts of Jesus’ birth?

I think, if we try to see some unifying message, it would be that this is, at its most basic truth, a love story. A love story about God’s love for the world He created and which He sustains, and a love story about human beings, whom He also created and with whom He wants to have a deep, enduring and intense love relationship.

Love.

It might be a good idea for us to consider just what love is, for I think, in this present age, the concept of love and the ways we might expect to experience it, need a bit of refreshing, a step back, if you will, to see just what love really is.

When we think about love, perhaps we think of it as an emotion, as when a person loves another person, for example. And, in truth, when our culture thinks about love, it’s likely that it’s romantic love that’s in view. But, in truth, love isn’t just an emotion, love is really a force, a powerful force that can change things. For example, consider a spouse who’s caring for their partner who is very sick…that spouse might well do extraordinary things to support that other, beloved one who’s in deep need. That sort of love is a force, a powerful agent for making things better, for improving the life of another.

Oftentimes, in our culture today, we equate love with permissiveness, as if to characterize it by saying, “If you really love me, you’ll let me do whatever I feel like doing”. But if we really and truly love someone, we might want to reach out to them to correct something they’re doing that is harmful to themselves and perhaps to others. This sort of love sets limits that seek that loved person’s ultimate welfare and wellbeing. An example might be the parent or grandparent who makes comments about a new driver in the family whose behavior behind the wheel is dangerous to themselves and to others. Saying such things oftentimes isn’t easy to have to say, or easy to have to hear. But true love seeks the best for that other, loved person, simply because we want the very best for the other.

If we consider what we’ve just said, we might boil this definition of love into two themes: 1. Love is a force for change, and 2. Love seeks the best for that other, beloved one.

Now, let’s apply these two observations to the Christmas event.

First of all, we might say that God, in sending His only Son, Jesus Christ, sent Him into the world to be a force for change. By His life, Jesus showed us the way that God wants us to live and love. That sort of love meant that God would have to come into the world and assume our humanity to the full. As Jesus lived among us, as a full and complete human being, He experienced all the things we human beings are able to experience, including not just the “good stuff” of things like wonderful and fulfilling relationships with others, but the “bad stuff” of suffering, disappointment, rejection and death.

In sending Jesus Christ to live among us, God’s intent is to show us the way to live that brings about full, complete and true happiness and joy. In so doing, God demonstrated to us that the true meaning of love means that there are things God would want us to be doing, and things He would warn us not to do. There are limits involved in this sort of love, limits that can protect us from things that can separate us from each other and from God.

Considering this business of love, consider what people who do not know anything (much) about the Church might think that the Church stands for. Perhaps the answer would be that people outside the Church might think that the Church is a place where hate is preached and practiced.

But the Church’s business, its reason for being, its mission, is to be a place where love, true, abiding and lasting love, is preached and practiced. The Church is in the “Love business”. The Church is a place where the goal is to introduce God to people and people to God, and to nourish that relationship in love.

That’s why we’re here tonight, to hear about God’s love story, God’s intense, deep, abiding love for the world and the people who live in it. The Christmas story invites each of us to a deeper, more intense loving relationship with the Lord, to return to the Lord the great gift of love He has for us by loving Him in return, and to make that love known to an unloving and oftentimes cruel world by the things we say and the things we do.

AMEN. 

Sunday, December 19, 2021

Advent 4, Year C (2021)

Micah 5:2 – 5a / For the Psalm: Canticle 3 (Magnificat) / Luke 1:39 – 55

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, December 19, 2021.

“THE GOD WHO BRINGS TOGETHER, THE GOD WHO UNITES”

(Homily text: Luke 1:39 – 55)

This morning’s Gospel tells us something about God’s nature, and specifically, it tells us that God is a God who brings people (and events) together. This same God is the God who, having called them together, also unites people, one to another.

Liturgically, the event that took place when Mary went to stay with her cousin Elizabeth is also celebrated on the Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, observed each year on May 31st.

The text appointed for today is rich with resources with which to concentrate on the various aspects of what was going on when Mary left Nazareth and went into the hill country of Judea to be with Elizabeth and her husband, Zechariah. We could, for example, look at the prominence of women in this account, something that shines throughout Luke’s writing. We could also consider the fact that the God who brings together and the God who unites, is also the God who brings things into being that would, under normal circumstances, be impossible….that, too, is Luke’s focus as he relates the circumstances of John the Baptist’s birth, and the circumstances of Jesus’ birth. Or, we could look at the ways in which God uses the meek, the lowly, the common and the powerless to bring about His divine will. That, too, is one of Luke’s favorite themes. We would also do well to note the presence of the Holy Spirit in today’s reading, for Luke often includes the work of the Spirit in bringing about God’s will.

Instead of considering these worthy themes, let’s concentrate on the ways in which God is the God who brings people together, and the ways in which God unites people in order that they may have a role in bringing about God’s will.

We would do well to set the stage for today’s meeting between Elizabeth and Mary.

Each woman has something in common with the other: Neither one of them is supposed to be able to be pregnant. Elizabeth and her husband, Zechariah, are up in years at this point in their lives, beyond the normal child-bearing years. And Mary is unmarried. It’s worth noting this common theme that unites these two women.

Each woman also has something else in common with the other: The impending births are foretold by the angel Gabriel, who visited Zechariah to tell him about the birth of John, and Mary, who was also visited by Gabriel.[1] [2]

Now, in the fullness of time, God brings the two women together. It’s unclear if the two had ever met before this. It’s also unclear what the reason(s) may have been for Mary to leave Nazareth and go south into Judea. We could speculate about the reasons, but our consideration of the background and the reasons would be simply that, speculation. A couple of possibilities seem likely, however: Each woman could give support to the other in what must have been a time of exhilaration and expectancy, but also a time of challenge and risk; and it’s also possible that Mary was present when John the Baptist was born.[3]

God’s purpose in bringing the two together does seem clear, however, for John the Baptist and Jesus will meet again on the occasion of John’s ministry in the wilderness, a ministry of baptism for the forgiveness of sin, and the occasion of Jesus’ baptism. God’s purpose unites these two in a common mission: John prepares the way for Jesus, whose earthly ministry begins with His baptism.

One way to study Holy Scripture is to see the patterns in which God brings people together, oftentimes people who would, under normal circumstances, not be together. God brings people of varying backgrounds, talents and outlooks together, and then unites them in service to the divine will.

We can see this in the call of the Lord’s original disciples, or in the call of Paul to become one of the Apostles. In each case, the Lord unites these followers, setting aside their differences of background and perspective and outlook on life, in order that they all, together, might accomplish for God things that they could not accomplish by themselves.

Down through time, God has called people together, uniting them in a common life and love for God through Jesus Christ. St. Paul would affirm this calling and this unity, saying, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28)

God’s call to come together in a new identity in Christ doesn’t mean that our individuality disappears. On the contrary, God is able to use our unique, individual traits and gifts for His purposes, much in the same way that the instruments of an orchestra each contribute to the beauty of the whole.

AMEN.

 



[1]   Luke 1:5 – 38 outlines these occurrences.

[2]   Gabriel’s visitation is commemorated in our liturgical calendar on March 25th each year.

[3]   Luke’s chronology is unclear. He tells us that Elizabeth hid herself for five months after she became pregnant (see Luke 1:24), and that Mary stayed with Elizabeth and Zechariah for about three months (Luke 1:56). So the question then becomes whether or not the five months that Elizabeth was out-of-sight were followed by Mary’s arrival almost immediately afterward.


Sunday, December 05, 2021

Advent 2, Year C (2021)

Malachi 3:1 – 5 / For the Psalm: Canticle 4 / Luke 3:1 – 6

 

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, December 5, 2021.

“WHAT SORT OF A HERALD?”

(Homily text: Luke 3:1 - 6)

“…thus, when you give to the poor, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others.” (Matthew 6:2)

Our Lord made that statement as part of His Sermon on the Mount. He was describing the process of self-promotion and attention-garnering that some practiced in that day and time, people He called hypoccrites. In essence, He is saying that when one gives to the poor, there is no need for a herald to go beforehand to announce the good deeds that are being done.

Contrast this image of the herald who precedes an ostentatious and pompous one, the herald whose purpose is to focus attention on the one who follows, doing good deeds, with the sort of a herald that John the Baptist was for Jesus. (After all, we concentrate on the Baptist’s ministry and work each year when the Second Sunday of Advent rolls around.)

John the Baptist sought to draw our attention to a completely different sort of person than the hypocrites that our Lord was describing in the statement shown above. For one thing, this Lord Jesus comes among us, born to poor parents, born in a stable, in rude circumstances. As His earthly ministry unfolded, He spent time with the tax collectors and the other notorious sinners of His day, instead of hanging around with the high and the mighty. He died a common criminal’s death on the cross, with a sign that was placed over His head, proclaiming that He was “King of the Jews”.

And yet, for all these markers which signify to us a humble One, One who came to serve, not to be served, we see that this One possesses all power, majesty and might. How can we see these markers of His true identity? In the resurrection on Easter Sunday morning, that’s where the evidence is to be found. There, we see that this humble One possesses all power, even over our most dire and final enemy, which is death.

The Lord comes to us quietly, unobtrusively, and with warmth. He comes, seeking no herald to announce His coming, other than the prompting of the Holy Spirit, who prepares the soil of our hearts to receive Him and to welcome Him in, that He may fellowship with us and we with Him.

As we receive the Lord into our hearts, into our minds, and into our lives, we, too, are called to engage in the same sort of ministry that fell to John the Baptist to do: We are called to herald the Lord’s coming by what we say, how we live, and what we do.

Thanks be to God!

AMEN.


Sunday, November 28, 2021

Advent 1, Year C (2021)

Jeremiah 33:14 – 16 / Psalm 25:1 – 9 / Luke 21:25 – 36

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, November 28, 2021.

 

 “THIS -OR- THAT, OR BOTH?”

(Homily texts:  Jeremiah 33:14 – 16 & Luke 21:25 – 36)

Whenever my wife as me a question which involves the word “or”, I often answer “yes”. For example, when she asks, “Would you like chocolate or vanilla?”, I answer “Yes”. Why would I want to choose between two good things like that, after all?

Let’s apply this somewhat humorous illustration to the two major themes that are present in the Advent season (since we are at the beginning of Advent), and ask ourselves the question, “Would you like a Lord who is gracious, full of compassion, and the provider of all good things, or would you like a Lord who comes in righteousness to judge the world, and to root out all causes of evil and wrongdoing?”

Our answer ought to be, I think, “Yes!”

Christians have often fallen onto one side or the other of this double offering. Sometimes, Christians want to have a Lord who simply gives them “good stuff”. A good example of that view would be Marcion, who, in the second century, believed that the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ was a different god from the God of the Old Testament. Marcion said that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ is a god who simply wants to give us “good stuff”. Marcion then went on to reject much of the New Testament writings, preferring instead to permit most of St. Paul’s letters and excerpts from Luke’s gospel account.[1] (I would submit to you that the spirit of Marcion is alive and well in our own time.)

But Christians have also chosen to concentrate on the judgment that our Lord brings and represents. Those who set their sights on this aspect of our Lord’s character can be found in the hellfire and brimstone messages of some televangelists, for example, or in the medieval Church, whose vivid depictions of eternal damnation and judgment are still to be found in the carvings and statuary of many of Europe’s old cathedrals.

Choosing one of the two aspects of our Lord’s character and our Lord’s coming (Advent) among us over the other aspect puts us in an uncomfortable position.

If we choose to believe that our Lord’s purpose is to simply shower us with “good stuff”, then why should we bother to submit ourselves to the Lord’s scrutiny, in order that the ways in which we all fall short of God’s standard of holiness can be brought into line with that standard of holiness. Such an attitude can lead to the idea that God is simply going to accept any and all of humanity, right where we are, without change or amendment of life. That sort of a conception lives by the name “universalism”. Sorry, there’s no support for such an attitude or such a view in Holy Scripture, no matter how much we might want to believe it’s true. It does matter that we pay attention to the ways in which we fail to meet God’s desires for our ways of living. It does matter that being an active part of the Church entails regular worship, regular study of the Bible, an active prayer life, regular confession to God of the ways in which we fall short, and putting our faith into tangible action. If all of these things aren’t important, then it naturally follows that the Church isn’t important, either.

Now, it’s worthwhile considering what adherence to the other option represents.

If the Lord is this thunderbolt-throwing Lord who only comes to judge and condemn us, then I don’t know about you, but I’d want to run and hide somewhere. Purveyors of this sort of a message (to the exclusion of the other side of the Lord’s character) can be tempted to engage in manipulation, as they goad people into coming to a relationship with the Lord by creating fear and anguish. (To be sure, a healthy awareness of our own sinfulness is a necessary ingredient in each of our relationships with the Lord.) The witness of the gospel accounts doesn’t support the idea that our Lord ever used such tactics in His relating to people.[2] 

Mature Christian believing and living involves the use of the word “Yes.”

We say “Yes” to the idea that the Lord wants to shower us with all good things. After all, that’s the ancient promise of Jeremiah, in our Old Testament reading this morning, which assures us that God would provide a great blessing to His people, a promise that was fulfilled in the coming of the Christ.

We say “Yes” to the idea that the Lord comes to reveal by His righteous light the ways in which we live in darkness still. But when the Lord’s light is cast upon us, it is always with the idea that redemption, reformation, and amendment of life is the goal, not destruction and being cast away from God’s presence. That’s the message of our reading from Luke this morning, which places before us traditional biblical language of judgment. The Lord is coming in judgment, in the fulness of God’s time and in the way that God will choose.

A healthy balance is necessary to the mature Christian life, a balance that isn’t always easy to strive for.

May the Holy Spirit enable and enlighten us to be able to say “Yes” to the two natures we see in Christ.

AMEN.


[1]   It was the challenge posited by Marcion that prompted the Church, in part, to consider just what was proper to include in the books of the New Testament.

[2]   That said, the Lord was quite capable of bluntly putting before those with whom He interacted their shortcomings or the things in their lives that were less-than-pleasing to God. The Lord’s harshest condemnations were reserved for the chief priests, the Pharisees and the scribes, for they thought they had all the answers, and refused to see God at work in the things the Lord came to do.


Sunday, November 14, 2021

Pentecost 25, Year B (2021)

Proper 28 :: Daniel 12:1 – 3 / Psalm 16 / Mark 13:1 – 8

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, November 14, 2021.

“DURABILITY”
(Homily text: Mark 13:1 - 8)

Let’s consider the idea of durability this morning. That is to say, let’s talk about what things will endure, will stand the test of time and the challenges that time and change present, and those things that are destined to fail that test and fall away.

In that vein then, hear the words of one of the Lord’s disciples, who, upon leaving the Temple in Jerusalem, says, “Look, Rabbi, what wonderful stones and what wonderful buildings!”. Whereupon Jesus makes the prediction that the time will come when not one of the stones just referred to will stand one upon another.

To the disciples, and to the majority of God’s people in that day, time and place, the Temple must’ve seemed like an indestructible, permanent place, a durable place destined to stand for eons of time. But the truth is that that Temple was destroyed by the Roman army during the Jewish-Roman War, which lasted from 66 – 70 AD. By the end of that war, not one stone of the Temple buildings that sat upon the top of the Temple Mount, stood one on top of another. All were thrown down, taken down.[1]

Following His prediction about the fate of the Temple, Jesus engages in what is, most likely, traditional language which depicts God’s judgment:  Words like “earthquakes”, “famines” and “wars” appear in His comments about the signs by which God’s judgment will unfold.

It turns out that the Temple wasn’t at all durable. Neither were the conceptions and ideas about God’s nature and the ways in which God relates to people all that durable for God’s people, and for the Lord’s disciples, all that durable, either.

The understandings that God’s people harbored about God’s nature and God’s relationships with human beings were shaped by their understanding of God’s Law, known as the Torah. Their understandings were carried in the mold that was shaped by the priestly caste, by the Pharisees, and the scribes. That mold maintained that God favored those who scrupulously held to the tenets of Torah, blessing them with wealth, with health, and with good fortune. Conversely, God punished with illness, disease, or poverty, those who did the opposite.

Our Lord came and completely destroyed these seemingly durable notions and ideas, hanging out with tax collectors and sinners. He drove back the indestructibility of disease and illness, and broke down the walls of indifference, intolerance and disdain that was directed toward the sick, the lame, the blind, and the notorious sinner. It turns out that these unhelpful attitudes weren’t all that durable, either, in the face of God’s revelation, made known in the sending of Jesus Christ to live among us.

In truth, the temples we create for ourselves, by which we wall off from God those places in our lives that we claim are “off limits” to God’s gaze and God’s judgment, aren’t likely to withstand God’s judgment when the time for judgment comes. For God will destroy all that is unbefitting in those who claim God’s name and God’s mantle. When judgment comes, it will seem, quite likely, to be an earthquake.

We can take a lesson from the process of construction of just about anything human beings decide to make:  The process usually begins with destruction, either of previously-held ideas and notions, to the uprooting of the soil to prepare the way for the foundation of a building or temple. Remember that the Temple in Jerusalem that one of Jesus’ disciples admired so greatly began its construction with the destruction of much of what remained of Solomon’s Temple, which preceded the construction of Herod’s Second Temple.

So it is with us: God will dig deep into the soil of our hearts and into the recesses of our minds and spirits to root out that which is unholy, in order to create within us a durable and holy temple for the Spirit of God to dwell in. Such a process may seem more like destruction than construction, until the fruits of the process work themselves out in time.

There is no other way to godliness and holiness.

AMEN. 



[1]   All that remains of the Temple complex is the Temple Mount itself, which is a large rectangular platform, about 33 acres in size. It’s wall on the west side is known as the Western Wall today, a sacred site for Jews to come and pray. Some of the stones in the wall are enormous, weighing about 20 tons.


Sunday, October 24, 2021

Pentecost 22, Year B (2021)

Proper 25 ::  Jeremiah 31:7 – 9 / Psalm 34:1 – 8, 19 – 22 / Hebrews 7:23 – 28 /Mark 10:46 – 51

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, October 24, 2021.

“HAVING LITTLE TO OFFER, BUT JUST ENOUGH”

(Homily text: Mark 10:46 – 51)

Let’s ask ourselves this question, as we hear the familiar account of the healing of the blind beggar, Bartimaeus: “What does Bartimaeus have to offer the Lord?”

By the conventional wisdom of many people in that day and time, the answer would most likely be: “Not much!”, or perhaps “Nothing at all”.

After all, Bartimaeus was blind, and because he was in that condition, and in particular, because he’d (apparently) lost his sight at some point in his life, many people in Jericho probably regarded him as a notorious sinner, someone who’d managed to offend God in such a way that he’d been abandoned by God. It’s possible that the residents of Jericho regarded Bartimaeus as a nuisance, a “throw-away” person they’d just as soon ignore, hoping that, if he was out of their sight, he might also be out of their thinking and noticing. I think their attitude is reflected in their repeated statements telling Bartimaeus to be quiet.

We can’t be entirely sure about these observations, but they seem to be in agreement with the attitudes of many in that age. We can be sure that blindness and the status of being a sinner were connected. Consider, as an example, the comment that Jesus’ disciples make upon discovering a man born blind: They ask if it was the fault of the man himself, or of his parents, that he was born in that condition. [1]

What then, does Bartimaeus have to offer to the Lord? Just two things:  Himself and faith.

Bartimaeus has nothing else to offer but himself, and his faith in the Lord’s ability to help him out of his condition. Bartimaeus comes to Jesus empty-handed, except for these two things that he possesses: Himself and his faith in the Lord

In truth, what Bartimaeus offered Jesus is the very same thing you and I have to offer: Ourselves and our faith. All else that we may think we have to offer is beside the point, if we consider how our relationship to the Lord begins. It has to begin in the same way that Bartimaeus’ relationship began: By offering ourselves, in our broken down and spiritually poverty-stricken condition.

For if we’re honest with ourselves, we are unable, as Bartimaeus was, to help ourselves. Surely St. Augustine of Hippo[2] would agree: He maintained that we are so spiritually hampered by our inheritance of the stain of sin to even be able to see ourselves for who we truly and really are. So, Augustine says, we must depend on God’s grace (being defined as “God’s goodness and favor toward us, unearned and unmerited”), a grace which must come before we are even aware of it, [3] a grace that softens up the soil of our hearts and which permits God’s work to begin in us.

This is a self-emptying process, a “zero-sum” proposition, the only beginning place for us in establishing a relationship with God. We come to offer a possession each of us has, ourselves. We come, offering to God the conviction that He can help us out of our condition, just as Bartimaeus did.

Such a self-emptying act is one that must be repeated time and again as we make our way through life. Our baptismal rite affirms this, as we are asked, as the rite unfolds, the question, “Will you, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?” We answer, “We will, with God’s help.” Notice the presence of the word “whenever”. Not “if”, but “whenever”. We in the Church are quite realistic when it comes to acknowledging our own waywardness.

It simply won’t do to try to stand on some spiritual platform we may have created for ourselves, in an attempt to attain to God’s holiness. For, in truth, we have nothing to stand on, nothing that is stable, nothing that will support us. All we have to offer is a hand up to God, asking Him to redeem us and to clean us up. In offering that, we are offering little, but we are offering enough for God to act to deliver us from our deplorable and helpless condition.

AMEN.

 



[1]   See John’s Gospel account, chapter nine. In the case of the man born blind, the disciples’ question reflects the fact that the man was born in that condition, pointing to a possible failing on the part of his parents. In Bartimaeus’ case, however, since he’d apparently lost his sight at some point in his life, the assumption might well have been that it was his own failings that brought about his condition.

[2]   Augustine lived from 354 – 430 AD, and is regarded as being the foremost theologian of the western Church. He had to deal with the heresy known as Pelagianism, which maintained that we human beings have all the ability we need to be able to bring about our own salvation.

[3]   The technical name for this sort of grace is Prevenient Grace, a grace that literally “comes before” we are aware and able to receive it.

Sunday, October 03, 2021

Pentecost 19, Year B (2021)

Proper 22 ::  Genesis 2:18 – 24 / Psalm 22 / Mark 10:2 – 16 

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, October 3, 2021.

 

“IT’S GONNA TAKE WORK”

(Homily texts:  Genesis 2:18 – 24 & Mark 10:2 – 16)

One of the illusions that seem to beckon to us human beings is the idea that things are “maintenance-free”, and that if we don’t find items in our lives to be useful any longer, we can simply throw them away. Truth is, we live in a “maintenance-free” society. We also live in a “throw away” society.

But, of course, there’s no such thing as a “maintenance-free” anything. Consider, for example, the changes that have taken place with our automobiles: Time was, an oil change was required every 2,000 – 3,000 miles or so. Nowadays, oil changes take place at far greater timespans. But oil changes are still required. Cars, for all the advances that have taken place with them over time, are still anything but “maintenance-free”.

Everywhere we look, the things that occupy our time and attention all require maintenance and work. That list would include our cars, our households and all that is them, and our relationships.

Moreover, simply throwing things away when they no longer work, or when they need some sort of attention that we’re unwilling to offer to fix them, is wasteful. If we throw away our personal relationships, we run the risk of creating enormous problems for ourselves, and for others.

All of this discussion leads us to a consideration of our Lord’s teaching about the nature of marriage, and of the reality of divorce.

Taken on its face, our Lord’s prohibition against divorce, and against remarriage, seems harsh and uncaring toward those who find themselves in the unenviable situation of being in a destructive relationship. But if we look beneath the surface of the Lord’s teaching, we can see that He was addressing abuses of the ability to divorce that were taking place during the time of His earthly ministry.

The Pharisees’ approach to Jesus, asking Him about the ability to divorce, is rooted in the debates about the subject that were ongoing at that time. There were three main rabbinical schools of thought about the reasons a man might divorce his wife:

·         Rabbi Shammai held the most restricted view, limiting divorce to situations of unfaithfulness to the marriage relationship on the part of the wife. [1]

·         Rabbi Hillel maintained that man could divorce his wife for many reasons, even including occasions when she “ruined his dinner”.

·         Rabbi Akiba allowed for many reasons, even to include divorce from a wife if the husband had found another woman who was “more attractive” than his current wife.

It’s important to notice that in all of these discussions, it’s the man’s prerogative to divorce. Under the Law of Moses, a woman had no legal rights, so she couldn’t initiate a divorce. This was a “man’s world” (which isn’t always a good thing!). [2]

Instead of taking the Pharisees’ bait, Jesus reconfigures the question, citing God’s original purpose for marriage, a relationship whose goal is a lifelong one. He cites Genesis, chapter two, in His response.

It strikes me that the attitudes of many men during the time of our Lord’s visitation show that they were looking for loopholes, as ways to get out of a marriage.

But what was the outcome, the fallout, from their capricious ways? In the process of abandoning their wives (and children) in the “man’s world” that existed then, many women were thrown into poverty, and their children along with them. It seems, therefore, that the Lord was speaking out of a deep concern for the welfare of women and children, who were among the weakest and least powerful members of society at that time.

The Church, down through time, has struggled with the issue and the reality of divorce. For example, consider St. Paul’s writing in I Corinthians, chapter seven. Over time, the Church has (for the most part) considerably relaxed its position about the possibility of remarriage after divorce. Perhaps this is a good thing, if, indeed, the circumstances of the marriage are such that extreme damage could result from preserving the marriage. (If some sort of abuse exists, for example, it seems prudent to end the marriage for the sake of the welfare of the spouse….that would be one example of the advisability of ending the marriage, as regrettable as such a decision would be.)

Alas, there is, yet today, no shortage of the hardness of heart that the Lord speaks about in His response to the Pharisees. We live in a fallen and imperfect world, one in which people do not take their promises seriously, one in which far too many think they can throw away a marriage and a spouse (and possibly, children, as well).

Yet the Lord would ask us to do the hard work of preserving and building up our marriages. For it’s gonna take hard work in order to strengthen our marriages. There’s no such thing as a “maintenance-free” marriage, or any other relationship, for that matter. They will all require work, lots of it.

AMEN.

 

 



[1]   This view is reflected in two texts that are found in Matthew’s Gospel account, at 5:32 and at 19:9. This view is based on Deuteronomy 24:1 – 4.

[2]   Under Roman law, a woman had more legal rights, and could initiate a divorce. 

Sunday, September 05, 2021

Pentecost 15, Year B (2021)

Proper 18 ::  Isaiah 35:4 – 7a / Psalm 146 / Mark 7:24 – 37

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, by Fr. Gene Tucker, on Sunday, September 5, 2021.

 

“SOME EFFORT REQUIRED”

(Homily text: Mark 7:24 – 37)

No matter how much we want it, if we think about it, most of the things we do in life require some effort to bring about or to accomplish. Wouldn’t it be wonderful, for example, if a fine meal would simply appear before us? Yes, it would. But the truth is, that wonderful meal wouldn’t come to be unless someone with good cooking skills did all the work to bring the raw ingredients together to make it. We could say the same about many other things, such as building a house, or building a career, or going to school to learn things. Each and all of these things requires effort, sometime a good deal of effort.

In this morning’s Gospel, we read about the Syrophoenician woman who comes to Jesus. She is in dire need, for her daughter is gravely ill. Apparently, she’s heard about the healings that this Jewish miracle worker had been doing in Galilee, and so, perhaps, she believes (or thinks) that He can help her daughter.

She comes to Jesus, kneels before Him, and begs Him to fix what’s wrong with her daughter. In response, Jesus makes a reply that seems like a put-down. He says, “Let the children first be fed. It isn’t right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.”

We ought to pause for a moment right here. Understanding the culture of time will help us to understand more fully what the Lord said, for dogs, in Jewish culture, were considered to be unclean animals. (Even today, to call someone a “dog” is not a kind thing to say to someone, even though we don’t regard dogs as being unclean.)

But the woman applies some effort to her request. She says, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”

We’d have a good understanding of this conversation if we’d understand that by using the word “children”, Jesus is referring to the Jews, to God’s chosen people, and that by using the word “dogs”, He is referring to non-Jewish, Gentile people.

Now, let’s look at this very bold woman, a woman who listens carefully, but who is persistent, realizing that her need to have her daughter healed is going to take some effort, some evidence of her faith in Jesus’ power to heal her daughter, for she takes the Lord’s seeming rebuke and places it back, squarely, before the Lord. She says, “Yes, Lord, but even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” In so doing, she uses a different word for “dogs” that the Lord uses. She uses the diminutive form of “dogs”.[1] She says “puppy dogs”, the sort of dogs that, in Gentile culture, would have been part of the household.

Some effort required.

It might have been easy for this woman to simply walk away when Jesus challenged her like He did. She could have given up. But she didn’t.

How often does the Lord put a test of a person’s faith in the path to granting that person’s request? The answer is, the Lord often does exactly that. Here, He does it with the unnamed woman. He did the same with the ten lepers who were healed, telling them that (before they were healed), they were to go show themselves to the priest as evidence of their healing.[2]  That’s just one example. There are many others. Sometimes, the Lord will say something like, “Your faith has made you whole.”

Some effort required.

How often do we wish for something to happen? Yes, good things usually. It’s important for us to ask God for those good things that we need (which is different from those things that we might want, it’s important to note).

But oftentimes what God does in responding to our requests and our needs is to say, “You’re going to have to put some effort into this. Part of that effort is to believe that I can grant your request. But another part of that effort is going to require you to make use of the raw materials (talents and skills, to cite but one example) I’ve given you to make your request a reality. In this way, you and I work together.”

Too often, it seems to me, we treat God like an ATM machine. You know, we put in our prayer request access card, we punch in our password, and expect God to give us what we need, immediately, and without effort on our part. We then, oftentimes, put God away until the next request arises. Aren’t we like that a lot of the time? Yes, I believe we are exactly like that, far too many times, to be honest about it. But if we think more deeply about this image, usually we have to work to make money, in order to be able to put it into our account. (Assuming, of course, that the money wasn’t a gift somehow.) Here we have evidence that some effort is usually required to make something happen.

Such a rule applies to nearly everything in life. Such a rule also applies to our walk with God. Some effort on our part will be required. And in that effort, there is a test of our willingness to use what God has already given us, the raw materials with which to bring about that which we need, God working together with us.

AMEN.



[1]   This fine point of translation is, unfortunately, not included in most translations of the Bible.

[2]   See Luke 17:11 – 19.


Sunday, August 29, 2021

Pentecost 14, Year B (2021)

Proper 17 ::  Deuteronomy 4:1 – 2, 6 – 9 / Psalm 15 / Mark 7:1 – 8, 14 – 15, 21 – 23

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, August 29, 2021.

 

“A PERSON OF ‘LOW JUDGMENT’?”

(Homily texts:  Deuteronomy 4:1 -2, 6 – 9 & Mark 7:1 – 8, 14 – 15, 21 – 23)

Let’s ask ourselves this question: “Do we know anyone who’s a person of ‘low judgment’?”

Low judgment…..Hypocrite, in other words, for that’s what the literal meaning is of the Greek words which come to us as “hypocrite”.

Our Old Testament reading from the book of Deuteronomy, as well as our Gospel reading from Mark, chapter seven, encourage us to be persons who have “high judgment”.  A person who has “high judgment” is one who has thoroughly integrated their beliefs with their practices in everyday life.

Consider, for example, how Moses, speaking in the verses we hear this morning from Deuteronomy, challenges those original hearers of these words, and us, to not only hear and know God’s will and God’s commands, but to observe that will and those commands.

Then, as we turn to today’s Gospel text (having returned, now, to Mark’s account after a sojourn in John’s account), we hear Jesus excoriate the Pharisees for their concentration on the outward actions of the things that people do, but at the expense of a proper orientation of the heart, of the inner and most central part of a person’s being. They ask, “Why do your disciples not walk according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with defiled hands?” In response, Jesus uses that “low judgment” word: Hypocrite. Quoting from Isaiah 29:13, He says, “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines the commandments of men.”

In the verses that are omitted from this morning’s reading (verses 9 – 13), the Lord exposes the practices of these Pharisees, citing their practice of “Corban”, a practice whereby a person could devote the family’s assets to the Temple in Jerusalem. As a result, a person’s parents, in their old age, would be deprived of a means of support. Thus, the Lord says, the intent of the Law of Moses to care for father and mother is supplanted by a later, and less important, practice.

Being a person of “high judgment” is critical to our witness to God. There’s little that gets my ire up more than to hear of those who claim to be disciples of Jesus, Christians, who behave badly. The old saying that describes such behavior goes something like this: “What you are doing speaks so loudly that I can’t hear what you’re saying.”

Being a person of “high judgment” involves the ability to take a good, close look at ourselves, at our attitudes and the way in which we conduct ourselves, day in and day out. It involves trying to look at ourselves as God might see us, and as others might see us. To be sure, we can’t see ourselves completely and totally, so we will need the help of other believers to hold us to account for what we say and what we do.

Come then, Holy Spirit, come with your enlightening and purifying fire, purge out of us any residue of “low judgment”, that we may reflect the full image of Christ.

AMEN.