Advent 1, Year B (2020)

Isaiah 64: 1–9 / Psalm 80: 1–7, 16–18 / I Corinthians 1: 3–9 / Mark 13: 24–37

This is the homily prepared for St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker for Sunday, November 29, 2020.

 

“COULDN’T WE JUST SKIP THIS ONE?”

(Homily text: Mark 13: 24-37)

Life often presents us with unpleasant occurrences. Just think about how we welcome a difficult medical procedure. Or how about that task we’ve been putting off for a long time, or the bills we have to pay, or the ticket we got for speeding last week, which requires either the paying of a fine or a court appearance.

OK, I’m probably going a bit too far with that last example (the one about the ticket we got.)

But, in truth, each of the examples I’ve offered are ones we’d just as soon skip. We’d just as soon avoid having to do them or to take care of them.

Our Gospel text for this First Sunday of Advent is one we’d just as soon skip, I think. Who among us welcomes God’s judgment? That is, after all, what Jesus is describing with that troublesome language about the darkening of the sun and so forth: God’s judgment. The Lord is using traditional biblical language to describe judgment. And, as if the Lord’s warning about God’s coming judgment isn’t enough, then we get to hear more troubling news: The Son of Man is coming, and when He comes, He will gather his chosen ones (the biblical language is “elect”).

But the disturbing news continues: Jesus says that none of us knows when these things will take place. So, He says, “Stay awake!”

I don’t know about you, but when I read or hear those words, I get the sense that the pages that contain them must heat up a little. And perhaps that’s the Lord’s intent, to get our attention, to roust us out of our day-to-day concerns and our habits which might make us a little calloused toward the things of God.

For judgment is coming. God’s judgment is coming. At some point in the future, these things will all take place. That’s one of the major themes of Advent: To keep in mind the great, big plans of God, things like the coming of the Son of Man, in judgment.

But, in truth, what happens between those great and awesome events and what happens today matters. To God, those everyday things matter a whole lot. So just in case we thought it’d be OK to simply sit around, looking up into heaven for signs of the Lord’s return, then the Lord tells us that just won’t do. For, He says, in the meantime, it will be “like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his servants in charge, each with his work….” Did you notice that in the text: “Each with his work”?

That means you and I had better be doing the Lord’s work in the here and the now, in everyday life. For the Lord takes note of what we have done for the advancement of the kingdom, and what we haven’t done to bring that kingdom into reality in this present world. Liturgically, when we confess our sins, we acknowledge those things we shouldn’t have done, but we also offer our confession for the things we’ve left undone.

Talk about news we’d just as soon skip….wouldn’t we much rather go about our usual and customary tasks without remembering that all we do is being done in God’s sight? I would, I know. Don’t we adopt an attitude that says, in essence, “Lord, things are going OK down here, I don’t think I need your involvement just now, but I’ll call you if something comes up that I can’t handle?” Isn’t that our attitude? I suspect it is, much of the time.

In truth, however, the Lord comes to us, not just at the end of time or at some point in the future, but He comes every day, bringing with Him judgment for those things we’ve done amiss, and those things we’ve failed to do. But He also comes, bringing blessing for those things we do that bring credit to His name.

The Lord’s daily coming to us changes things, it changes everything. If the Lord we love and serve was simply that thunderbolt-throwing God, all of us would cower in the nearest safe place we could find. But because the Lord’s character isn’t just one of judgment, but is also one of mercy, forgiveness and love, we would do well to remember those qualities our Lord possesses. Maybe that’d help us to get over our inclination to simply want to skip news like today’s Gospel puts before our eyes.

Happy Advent, everyone!

The Last Sunday after Pentecost, Year A (2020)

Proper 29 :: Ezekiel 34: 11–16, 20–24 / Psalm 100 / Ephesians 1: 15–23 / Matthew 25: 31–46

This is the homily prepared for St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker for Sunday, November 22, 2020.

“PRACTICAL CHRISTIAN LIVING”

(Homily text: Matthew 25: 31-46)

Ours is a society which values cleanliness. We sell hand cleaner of the high strength variety to allow those who work with machinery to get the grease and the grime off of their hands once the work day is through. We value regular showers or baths, and if we are to engage in a task that involves getting messed up or dirty, we value the opportunity to clean up afterward.

The Pharisees, the scribes and the chief priests, who are often the opponents that Matthew has in mind when he wrote down his Gospel account, valued cleanliness, as well. The Law of Moses (Torah) valued cleanliness. It also valued keeping things separate that ought to be separate. The world of the Torah was one of separation, of clean and unclean.

But the Pharisees and their allies took the requirements of the Torah many steps further, adding additional requirements that went far beyond the actual requirements of the Law.

And, they viewed those who had fallen into some sort of difficulty or illness as being unclean, unfit for God’s attention and love, people who should be avoided because they were guilty (obviously) of some gross moral failing. Sin, in other words.

Into such a situation our Lord comes, and in this morning’s Gospel text, tells those who would be followers to minister to just such untouchable types as those the Pharisees and the others would walk a country mile to avoid. Go, He says, to the sick, those in prison, those who hunger, those who lack clothing.

Jesus’ instruction means that we’re going to have to get our hands dirty, if we’re going to live out the Gospel imperatives. Jesus’ instruction means that we’re going to have to take risks as we bring the kingdom of God into being. We’ll have to be willing to deal with people who are in some sort of distress. We’re going to have to go into difficult situations to bring hope and God’s love to those for whom such things are in short supply.

In the process, we who have been cleansed by the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ will have the opportunity to say to those who are in need of such a cleansing that God can accomplish that feat for anyone, no matter how far they have fallen into the cracks of life. New life, new hope, that is the message we carry with us as we minister to those for whom there is no sense of a new life, and little chance for hope in the future.

Beginning with the simple acts of kindness our Lord outlines in today’s Gospel text, acts that are  offered to someone in distress or need, such acts are often the very way by which God can reach into someone’s life, changing things for the better and for eternity.

We are, therefore, God’s hands to do, and God’s heart to love.

AMEN.

         

Pentecost 24, Year A (2020)

Proper 28 :: Zephaniah 1: 7, 12–18 / Psalm 123 / I Thessalonians 5: 1–11 / Matthew 25: 14–30

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, November 15, 2020.

“THE CHOICE: RISK-TAKING OR NOT”
(Homily text: Matthew 25: 14-30)

We admire risk-takers. We cheer when the wide receiver leaps up, hand outstretched, and catches the “Hail Mary” pass. We watch with baited breath as the high-wire walker walks across the wire in the circus. And if the wide receiver fails to catch the ball, or if the high-wire walker falls into the net, we still admire the attempt and the risk they’ve taken to succeed.

Our Lord’s Parable of the Talents is cut from the same cloth: In the parable, three servants are entrusted with their master with talents. No, in this case – and in the original meaning of the word “talent”, we aren’t talking about an ability or gift a person possesses – we’re talking about a measure of money, a large sum of money.[1]  The three servants are faced with the prospect of success or failure. Though they’re given a large sum, they aren’t given any instructions about what to do with it. The choice is theirs to make, to succeed, or to fail.

Two of the servants go out and take a risk. They double the amount they’ve been given.

The servant who’s been given one talent plays it safe, burying the talent in the ground. (In biblical times, that’s what the usual and prudent method of protecting something of value dictated….after all, there were no safe deposit boxes or bank vaults.)

Being a disciple of Jesus, a follower of Christ, involves risk. For the early Christians in Matthew’s Church, theirs was a risky situation which demanded bold and discernible action. They faced opposition from the Jews among whom they lived and worked, and they faced increasing levels of hostility from the Roman authorities. Moreover, they witnessed to Gentiles who had little or no knowledge of the accounts of God’s mighty acts in the Old Testament.

If the Gospel was to be heard, if the Gospel was to spread throughout the world (as our Lord instructed His disciples in the final verses of Matthew’s account, Matthew 28: 19-20), then playing it safe wasn’t to be an option for those early believers. Risk-taking was the only option.

It’s been said that “everything old is new again”. I believe that is certainly true for us as twenty-first century believers, for we find ourselves in very similar circumstances to those that pertained to those first century believers in Matthew’s Church. This comment deserves some explanation: Culturally, our modern situation has much in common with the Greco-Roman world of the first century. For one thing, many people lived lives that didn’t seem to have much meaning or much purpose. For another, life seemed unpredictable and capricious. Hedonism – the idea that enjoying the various pleasures that life could offer – seemed to be a reasonable response to the hardships and challenges of life, and it was often the preferred option for many. Put another way, we could say that hedonism is summed up in the phrase, “The one who dies with the most toys, wins.”  Then there was the religious situation in the first century: Many Gentiles admired and worshiped various pagan gods. (The choice was theirs to make, from a variety of various options.)

If all of this sounds familiar, it ought to.

Consider how many people live today. Since life seems to be unpredictable and capricious, why not grab for all the enjoyment possible? That’s the choice for many, isn’t it? Hedonism, coupled with an indulgence in possessions, becomes the god for many. Moreover, we are living among and witnessing to a culture in which many people have no knowledge whatsoever of the accounts that are to be found in the Bible, or of God’s working in times past.

But we, as Christian believers, are called to live by another set of standards. And that involves taking risks.

Playing it safe, either by quietly living out our faith life, or by withdrawing into our church buildings where we hold services on Sunday, but without the expectation that people will be drawn into our midst, isn’t an option. If we are to take the lesson of today’s parable to heart, then we must engage those we encounter in our daily lives, demonstrating by the things we do and the attitudes we possess that we live another way, as followers of Jesus Christ.

Living as a disciple of Jesus offers true meaning of life, a depth of meaning that God alone provides. Risk-taking offers the possibility that those we encounter will see the difference and will want to have that meaning and that depth themselves. After all, it’s been said that “Christianity is caught, not taught”.

AMEN.

 

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[1]   It’s been estimated that the value of a talent, in current terms, was worth about $600,000.00.

Pentecost 23, Year A (2020)

Proper 27 :: Amos 5: 18–24 / Psalm 70 / I Thessalonians 4: 13–18 / Matthew 25: 1–13

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, November 8, 2020.

“HEEDING THE CALL”

(Homily texts:  Amos 5: 18-24 & Matthew 25: 1-13)

The story is told that – many years ago - when the horses that were used to pull fire apparatus were retired from the fire departments, they would spend their retirement on farms. But when the dinner bell rang on the farm calling the farm hands in to eat, they would get excited, stomping their feet, neighing and showing signs that they knew that sound meant that there an alarm had sounded.

The point of this story is that, although the horses had little to get excited about in their retirements (except perhaps when they found some new grazing area on the farm), they knew that when they heard the alarm, they knew what they used to do. So although their outward life was quiet, their ears were attuned to the sound of the bell.

Our Gospel text, appointed this morning, portrays much the same sort of an idea. It is known by the title “The Parable of the Ten Virgins”, and our Lord depicts ten young women who were waiting for the bridegroom to arrive so that the wedding may proceed. The waiting is quiet, and the waiting goes on well into darkness, but suddenly, the call goes out that the bridegroom has arrived. Though it is night when the arrival takes place, five of the women are prepared to meet the bridegroom. The other five are not.

Our Gospel might prompt us to think that the season of Advent is near. Indeed, it is, just three weeks away. For the Advent season calls us to “wake up”, to be ready when the Lord’s call comes, just as in the parable.

Oftentimes in the season after Pentecost, the Old Testament reading which is listed as Track Two shares a theme in common with the appointed Gospel for the day. Today’s choice follows in this pattern. The prophet Amos warns God’s people not to be complacent in their worship of God. For, he says, “Why do you desire the day of the Lord?” That day won’t be a welcome day, it will be a day of judgment, one in which God will call His people to account for their sinful and wayward ways. Put in the terms of the image we began with with the old fire horses, Amos’ call is to wake up, to stir, to begin to amend their ways as the alarm sounds.

In both the Parable of the Ten Virgins and in Amos’ call to repentance and amendment of life we see the everyday, quiet and ongoing nature of life, set against a call to action.

In our own lives, it could be easy to get wrapped up in the everyday tasks and responsibilities of life. But we are called to be ready to answer God’s call, whenever and however it comes.

A collect in our Prayer Book addresses this truth quite well:

“O heavenly Father, in whom we live and move and have our being: We humbly pray thee so to guide and govern us by thy Holy Spirit, that in all the cares and occupations of our life we may not forget thee, but may remember that we are ever walking in thy sight; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”[1]

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[1]   A Collect for Guidance, from the Daily Office (Morning Prayer), Rite I. Book of Common Prayer, 1979, page 57.

All Saints’ Sunday, Year A (2020)

Revelation 7: 9–17 / Psalm 34: 1-10, 22 / I John 3: 1–3 / Matthew 5: 1–12

This is the homily give at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday, November 1, 2020.

“SAINTS: LIVING IN THE PRESENT AND IN THE FUTURE”

(Homily texts:  Revelation 7: 9–17, I John 3: 1-3 & Matthew 5: 1-12)

On this All Saints’ Sunday, as we consider what it means to be a saint (and, by extension, as we ask ourselves if we qualify to be saints), let’s ask ourselves this question: Does a saint live in God’s world, or does a saint live in the everyday world?

The short answer to the first part of the question we’ve just posed is “Yes, a saint lives in God’s world.” The obvious answer to the second part of the question is a bit more challenging, for we may well say, “A saint lives in the everyday world, but not by the values of the everyday, secular world.”

Our appointed texts for this day describe the relationship between God’s world and the everyday, secular world, well.

The writer of the First Letter of John describes God’s initiative in reaching out to us in love. Notice the prominence of the word in the Bible: “Love” is everywhere in Holy Scripture! In response, those who have received God’s love, respond by living by godly values. In other words, they strive to live (with God’s help) holy lives which reflect God’s ways and God’s values, not the values of the secular world in which they are immersed. There we have the answer to the second part of our question, in a nutshell. But we also have the answer to the first part of our question, for saints maintain an orientation to God, living in God’s world, we can say with certainty. Saints make it their aim, therefore, to turn to God to be reminded of what it means to live saintly lives, but then to turn toward the world, demonstrating those values to the world. Back and forth, turning to God, then turning to the world, that is the life of the saint.

Turning to our Gospel text, Jesus’ description of the values by which God’s people will live is found in what we call the Beatitudes. Every one of the Lord’s sayings describe a radically different way of being. His instruction was radical in the time, place and culture in which they were first spoken, and they remain so today. In a sense, the values described in the Beatitudes form a filter for the saint which allows God’s values to flow into the world, but which block out the harmful ways of the world which seek to corrupt the ways of God.

Saints are called to maintain a broad, all-encompassing vision for God’s plan for them and for all who come to faith. Such a comprehensive view folds into its purview the living of a holy, pure and godly life in this life, but it also holds in view the destination toward which our life in God is moving: Eternity. That is the wonderful description we find in our passage from Revelation. There, the writer describes the saints of God, gathered around the heavenly throne, praising God for the ongoing relationship that began with our entry into this world, but from which, now, the saints are no longer constrained. What a glorious vision! No wonder this text is often used at funerals. It describes the Christians’ fondest hope and guarantee.

AMEN.