Pentecost 9, Year A (2023)

Proper 12 :: Psalm 119:129 – 136 / Romans 8:26 – 39 / Matthew 13:31 – 33, 44 – 52

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, on Sunday, July 30, 2023 by Fr. Gene Tucker.

 

“HEAR A TALE OF THREE CHURCHES”

(Homily texts:  Romans 8:26 – 39 & Matthew 13:31 – 33, 44 - 52)

This morning, let’s hear a tale of three churches.

The first church we will hear about is a small parish in a community that is about twice the size of Huntingdon.

It is composed of an older congregation, but one that has some children and youth in it. It has experienced what many smaller parishes have experienced, as some of its members have moved away to be closer to family, while others have died. As a consequence, its average Sunday attendance is now about half of what it was some fifteen years ago or so.

The parish, in recent times, has been served by two priests. One of them had a very long tenure in the parish, while the other had a short tenure. But the blunt truth is that both of these priests’ tenures ended badly, very badly. Their tenures ended in very troubling circumstances. As the second priest’s tenure was coming to an end, the Bishop told the congregation that, if they didn’t stick together, their church would be a “flower shop” in times to come. The Vestry, when they heard that comment, resented it deeply. But the truth was that the parish felt betrayed by the actions of their two Rectors. When a new Rector came on board, the look of distrust in people’s eyes was noticeable…they seemed to be saying “Are you going to let us down, too?”

A priest who had recently served the parish left over two years ago, and so, in that period of time, the parish has had to “make do” with services of Morning Prayer, and occasional visits by diocesan clergy and others, who have presided over the Holy Eucharist. On August 1^st (this Tuesday), a new clergy person is coming to serve them, finally.

The second church we will hear about this morning is a large place in a large city. I say “large”, because its physical plant (the church and the education building) are a sizeable space.

But the church, some years back, was experiencing the cumulative effect of many years of poor decisions and bad management.

This comment deserves a closer look.

This second church was served by a good-sized staff. In addition, its priest openly made comments that they were there in the church, not to serve the Lord and the Lord’s people, but to enlarge their church pension benefits.

In time, that priest did retire to collect those higher benefits. And a replacement came on board, a good person whose heart was in the right place. But, unfortunately, that priest’s tenure was cut short after only a year by an untimely and unexpected death. Sunday attendance declined by about half.

The parish’s Vestry described those times as being the “depths” of despair. The priest’s death, combined with the accumulated effects of poor management of the parish’s assets, had led the parish to the point of insolvency.

There was very little money in the bank, and the diocese was sending dunning letters, seeking about a quarter of what the parish had to work with. Furthermore, the church’s roof leaked, badly…there were large pans in some of the pews to catch the rain water that come through the leaks. (Imagine how that looked to visitors and newcomers!) Not only did the church’s roof leak, but the parish house’s roof did the same. The parish house looked like an abandoned building, its paint peeling and some of its boards warped.

You see, the problem with this second church is that it was accustomed to being able to live well beyond its means for a long time. Maintaining a large staff when the size of the parish was getting smaller, going through endowment funds to pay current expenses, and the neglect of the physical properties of the place, all had taken their toll. At the root of their problems was the attitude that, in the past, anyone who was anybody in the community would be sure to be a member of that parish. Alas, that reality had ceased to exist a long time before, but few seemed willing to admit that times had changed.

The third church we will hear about is a small parish – like the first – in a small community, one which is a bit smaller than the first.

It has a history of clergy who’ve served the parish for short periods of time, perhaps one, two or three years. Two of its recent Rectors had a longer tenure than that.

The parish was rocked by scandal some years ago.

This parish, too, like the first one we considered this morning, has seen a decline in its membership, as some have moved away so as to be closer to family, while others have died. It has, like the first parish, an older demographic among its members. But it also has some younger members and some children.

By now, perhaps you’ve guessed that I’m relating descriptions of three churches I have served. And, I might as well tell you, this third church is our own St. John’s in Huntingdon.

All three of these churches, for all the challenges that they faced, had one thing in common, one thing that was a mighty asset for them: They were composed of members who were determined not to let their church die away and go away.

That first church, as they picked up the pieces from the end of the tenure of their second Rector, resented the Bishop’s comment that they might soon become a “flower shop”. But at the same time, they were determined to prove the Bishop wrong. (In time, the Bishop came to regret having made the remark.) But it’s possible that predicted future for the parish was part of the call to action to be sure that they – the parish’s members – were going to be the one to build up the parish’s future.

And what about that second church?

It, too, was composed of a group that was determined not to let their parish go away. Fundraisers were held, a number of them. Plans were made to repair the roof on the Parish House, and to repaint and repair its exterior. (Yes, even the priest got involved in the car washes that were a part of the fundraising activity.) Expenses were pared to the bone. A balanced budget was adopted. Attendance picked up, after having fallen by about one-half. And, in time, the church itself got a new roof. No more drain pans in the pews to catch the leaking rain water.

As their organist left for a better position, a new organist was brought on board.

The diocese was told that they couldn’t have the one-quarter of the parish’s assets that were overdue, and – in time – the Bishop forgave that overdue amount.

Now, what about St. John’s in Huntingdon?

Like the other churches, this parish church has experienced its ups and its downs. It functions in an age when the Church has – in large measure – been cast aside by the society in which it finds itself.

Its future seems uncertain. The prospect of having a new Rector might seem to be remote, at this point.

However, St. John’s has some important strengths upon which to rely.

Among them is a physical plant that is in excellent condition (thanks to our wonderful Sexton and to the Vestry that has consistently provided the means to keep this place in good shape). Its physical plant isn’t too large to maintain, like the second place we talked about this morning.

Furthermore, St. John’s isn’t down to its final few dollars, like that second place was.

Finally, St. John’s people are determined – most of them, I’ll wager – to support this church and its ministries going forward. In that sense, St. John’s shares strengths that the other two churches we’ve talked about this morning also possess.

So what of the future?

It might well be that St. John’s won’t find a new Rector for awhile. Such is the reality of the Episcopal Church these days (as is the case with many other parts of the Christian family). The Church doesn’t make getting ordained any easier (my own process took seven years!). Then, there is the ability of a parish church to support a clergy member (medical insurance, pension costs, salary, benefits and other costs)….all these things make it difficult to financially hire and keep a Rector.

But the Rector – any Rector – isn’t the church! What good news.

The Rector is called to be a spiritual leader, to be one who encourages others to take up the ministries that God is calling them to do….that’s what I did in each of the three churches I am talking about this morning (now you know that I was relating personal experience in each of the three places).

I think, since we’re talking about encouragement, our reading from Paul’s letter to the early churches in Rome, and our Lord’s parable about the mustard seed, offer us some encouragement. Paul says that, “if God is for us, who can be against us?”. And our Lord reminds us of the small beginnings of things, things like the kingdom of God and the Church which is called to proclaim that kingdom and to assist in bringing that kingdom into being. The kingdom begins with small beginnings, but in time matures into a mighty thing. These two thoughts ought to offer us encouragement and the guarantee that God’s power and God’s will will overcome any and all obstacles that might lie in our path.

Going forward, looking forward, my deepest wish and fondest prayer for St. John’s is that it will continue to be faithful to the faith as it’s been received, to keep the “main thing the main thing”, and to avoid falling into putting attention into any number of other concerns – valuable and worthy as they might be – that would distract this parish church from its primary calling, which is to “connect God to people and people to God, and to encourage this relationship”.

You will be in my prayers going forward.

AMEN. 

Pentecost 8, Year A (2023)

Proper 11 ::  Genesis 28:10–19a / Psalm 139:1–11, 22–23 / Romans 8:12–25 / Matthew 13:24–30, 36–43

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, July 23, 2023 by Fr. Gene Tucker.

 

“I DON’T MUCH LIKE THIS PARABLE”

(Homily text:  Matthew 13:24–30, 36-43)

We continue, as the season of Pentecost unfolds, to make our way through Matthew’s Gospel account, hearing - in succession - one of Jesus’ parables after another.

This morning, we hear a teaching about good and evil in the world, a parable often known by the title the Parable of the Wheat and the Tares.

I will admit to you that much about this parable bothers me. I find its teaching to be one that is hard to accept. I don’t much like the truth it proclaims.

Why would that be, you might ask.

The reason is that our Lord tells us that – in the world – evil and good will continue to exist, side-by-side, until God’s purposes for all things are complete. At that point, God’s holiness and God’s perfection will be known in the world, and power of evil will come to an end. (I can’t help but reflect on that state of perfection and holiness which is to come, because it resembles the situation in the Garden of Eden before sin entered it.)

But my objections to this parable and to the truth it proclaims comes from a deep desire to see evil banished from the world. I would love to see all things that we human beings do to one another that denigrate others, that harm them, that diminish their God-given rights be a thing of the past.

In other words, I’d like to see God “smite all the evil-doers”, as a friend of mine says.

“Come Lord, and usher in your kingdom in all its fulness and in all its power,” is my prayer. Bring in the time when the circumstances on earth resemble those in heaven, as we pray in the Lord’s Prayer, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

But this state of earthly perfection isn’t what our Lord tells us is going to be. The truth of today’s parable is that the struggle between good and God and evil and the Evil One will continue until God’s power and God’s timing are in effect.

Ugh!

Given this reality, then, we who are God’s people in the world, are faced with a choice. It seems to me that we have two options when it comes to dealing with the ongoing activity and threat where the Evil One’s ways and power in the world are concerned.

One choice is to hunker down and withdraw from the world. Build a holy community, surround it with walls, and ignore the world and the evil in it. That’s one choice, and it’s a choice that some Christians in times past (and even today) have made.

The other choice is to see evil for what it is, to recognize it, and to continue to be a force for good and a force for God in the world.

This second choice is indicated in the parable.

An explanation is in order: The weeds that our Lord describes aren’t just any sort of weed. The word Jesus uses to describe the weeds refers to a rye-like plant called darnel. Darnel, in its early stages of growth, resembles wheat. It is only later on, when the growth has reached some level of maturity, that the difference can be seen.

In this detail about the parable, one which is often lost in translations, we see that those who’ve been looking at the field (the world, as Jesus tells us in His explanation of the meaning of the parable) notice the darnel for what it is. They’ve been looking at the makeup of the field.

The point here, then, is that God’s people are to be on the lookout for evil whenever and wherever it manifests itself.

The next thing we ought to notice is that Jesus tells us that the darnel isn’t to be removed from the field, for in so doing, the wheat – that force for good which gives the field and the crop in it value and worth – would be removed.

Implied here is that the worth of the field lies in the continued presence of that which gives it value.

The Church is God’s vehicle for good in the world. We are called to proclaim God’s truth, and to counteract the effects of sin and evil, those things that separate people one from another and which separate us from God. If the Church doesn’t do these things, then the field (the world) has little value.

One final thought: In order to be God’s agent in the world for good, the Church must keep its focus on its core values and reason-for-being. It’s easy to get caught up in various causes and concerns which offer some level of attraction. But the Church’s business is to connect people to God and God to people, and to nourish that relationship. Anything else and everything else is secondary to the reason that God founded the Church in the first place.

AMEN.

 

 

Pentecost 7, Year A (2023)

Proper 10 :: Isaiah 55:10 – 13 / Psalm 119:105 – 112 / Romans 8:1 – 11 / Matthew 13:1 – 9, 18 – 23

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, on Sunday, July 16, 2023, by Fr. Gene Tucker.

 

“THE FOUR SOILS”

(Homily text:  Matthew 13:1 – 9, 18 – 23)

This morning, we hear Jesus’ wonderful parable about the four soils. As I think about this familiar teaching, I think it functions on more than one level.

At one level, it informs Christians about the responses they are likely to encounter as they go out into the world, sharing the Good News (Gospel) of God’s great love, seen in the sending of Jesus Christ. Surely, the church of which Matthew may have been a part was experiencing the various responses and reactions that Jesus outlines as they lived their lives in the middle-to-late first century.

Perhaps these early Christians asked themselves, “Why do some people, when they hear the Good News, reject it? Or why do others seem to accept it, but then fail to live into it? And why do some accept the Good News, live into it, and are forever changed?”

It seems to me that the reactions those early Christians experienced are much the same ones that we Christians today experience. Why is it, for example, that some people reject the Good News, which – to us who have come to believe – makes so much good sense? (This is to cite but one example of the reactions that we are likely to encounter.)

Alas, what we’re asking ourselves about is a mystery, something that is beyond our knowing.

Today’s parable also functions at the personal level of the individual believer, I think.

Let me explain.

If I am being totally honest about it, I find within my own heart, mind and soul conditions that resemble each of the four soils described in today’s parable.

At times, my heart and mind are deeply attuned to the things of God, and there’s an intense love affair going on with Him. At other times, however, the cares of everyday life seem to grab my attention, crowding out the things of God. (Are you there with this condition? I certainly am.) At still other times, my heart is rocky and hard, so hard, in fact, that it seems like God’s love and God’s truths can’t take root at all.

If we’re honest with ourselves, and if we recognize the nature of everyday living, then I think we have to admit that most of us experience some level of differences in our relationship to God. Probably there are very few among us whose hearts are so completely and faithfully oriented toward the things of God most or all of the time. In some cases, those who are that way we call Saints (with a capital “S”).

What can be done to deal with the realities of the responses that our Lord lays out before us? Is there any way to deal with the thorn-infested soil of a person’s heart? Is there a way to break up the hardness of a rock-solid heart?

Indeed, I think, there are solutions, and they fall into the realm of the work of the Holy Spirit, and into our role as bearers of the Good News.

Ultimately, it is the Holy Spirit’s role to cultivate the conditions for the Good News of God to take root in a person’s heart. The Spirit informs, enlightens, convicts and empowers a person to be able to respond to the things of God. We human beings are incapable, absent the Holy Spirit’s work and presence, to do anything positive in this regard. (I am sure that St. Augustine of Hippo would agree!)

I think, however, that we Christians also have a part to play. It’s our job to proclaim by word and by example the Good News of God in Christ, as our Baptismal Covenant states so well. In so doing, we give the Holy Spirit some tools with which to work, kind of like being a good tool (hoes, shovels, rakes, e.g.) for managing the growth of things in a garden. The things we do, the things we say, the ways in which we live, are all ways that demonstrate the truth of the Good News, and the Good News’ ability to change people forever and for the truest good.

May the Holy Spirit enable and empower us for the work of ministry in the Lord’s name, that our witness may be of use to the Spirit’s work.

AMEN.

        

Pentecost 6, Year A (2023)

Proper 9 :: Zechariah 9:9 – 12 / Psalm 45:11 – 18 / Romans 7:15 – 25a Matthew 11:16 – 19, 25 – 30

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, July 9, 2023 by Fr. Gene Tucker.

 “A SENSE OF PERSPECTIVE: IS THE GLASS HALF-EMPTY, OR HALF FULL?”

(Homily text:  Matthew 11:16 – 19. 25 – 30)

Each and every generation of human beings, as they move from birth into life in each of its stages, must make a choice about their views of life and the situations that life presents to them.

That choice has to do with how they will view the events and challenges that will inevitably come with living, choices that have to do with whether or not their outlook on life is positive or negative. Put another way, the choice is to see things and challenges as a glass that is half-empty, or half-full.

In the time of our Lord’s earthly ministry, it was the Pharisees, the scribes and the priestly caste whose outlook on life was decidedly of the half-empty variety. They looked with disdain and disapproval at anyone who didn’t measure up to their standards of thinking and behaving. In particular, they disliked and disapproved of anyone who hung around with the outcasts of society, like those notorious tax collectors and other sinners.

In the comments we hear from our Lord this morning, it is an allusion to this outlook of disdain that He is referring to as He says that He is regarded as being a “friend of tax collectors and sinners”.

In another place in Matthew’s Gospel account, we read that Jesus says that those Pharisees and scribes lay heavy burdens on people’s shoulders, burdens they, themselves, aren’t willing to bear, and burdens they won’t do anything to remove or lighten (see Matthew 23:4.)

In response to this half-empty approach and outlook, Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:30).

Our Lord seeks to have the half-full approach to life, and to people who are living their lives. He seeks to assist, to better, to improve, people’s lot and their welfare.

What about us? What is our outlook on life?

Is it of the half-empty or the half-full approach?

Do we seek to look for the good and the worthwhile in others? Or do we look at how they seem to be living life in the wrong way? Do we tend to regard people in that situation with the idea that they are way beyond any hope and any help that God could give them, or that we – with God’s help – could offer?

Our Baptismal Covenant seeks to address our outlook on life and on others, as we promise before God that we will “respect the dignity of every person”.

At its most basic level, what we’re talking about here is our regard for each and every human being, God’s own intentional creation, and the worth of that creation. After all, if God loves each and every one of us (deeply, we should add), then it is incumbent upon us to regard each and every person with some level of that same regard. Furthermore, we are called to cultivate that sort of regard with the help of the Holy Spirit, to allow it to grow so that it becomes the default position where our outlooks and perspectives are concerned.

We are called, by virtue of our relationship with God, to share the Good News (Gospel) of God in Christ, that One who seeks to lighten people’s burdens, to give them rest, and to bring them into a loving and intense relationship with God.

AMEN. 

Pentecost 5, Year A (2023)

Proper 8 :: Jeremiah 22:1 – 14 / Psalm 13 / Romans 6:12 - 23 / Matthew 10:40 – 42

This is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, July 2, 2023 by Fr. Gene Tucker.

 

“IN THE UNIFORMED SERVICE OF THE LORD”

(Homily text:  Matthew 10:40 – 42)

At one time or another in our lives, we will serve as representatives of someone – or something – else.

For example, members of the armed forces, or of law enforcement (just to cite two examples), wear distinctive clothing to denote the fact that they are representatives of the government. Their uniforms also describe their function to others.

Even if some in our society don’t wear what we would call a “uniform”, oftentimes their clothing or their appearance gives clues as to their identities, or perhaps also what they might deem to be important. Think of teenagers and their appearance, as an example. It seems as though teenagers’ appearance is a relatively unchanging reality of contemporary society, whether we compare teenagers’ appearance in years gone by, or today.

We could also say much the same thing about other members of society.

In today’s very brief Gospel text (only three verses!), Jesus describes a relationship between His followers – His disciples – Himself and the God who sent Him. At its most basic level, what Jesus is describing is a relationship based on representation. Put another way, what we hear this morning is essentially this: “As you go out into the world, and people receive (or don’t receive) you, what reception they give you is bound up in your relationship with me, and – in turn – with my relationship with the Father.”

St. Paul will follow on this theme, I think, as he says “Put on Christ” (Romans 13:14), or, as he is writing to the early church in Corinth, “We are ambassadors for Christ, God making His appeal through us” (II Corinthians 5:20).

How might Christians adopt some sort of a “uniform” to show the One that they represent, and to show their function, to others?

One answer can be found in the distinctive dress of the Amish and the Mennonites in our area. The Amish are more distinctive in their dress, but Mennonite women usually wear a prayer cap. Other groups (I think of Pentecostal Christians, as one example), where women are expected to wear ankle-length skirts and dresses, and to wear their hair in a distinctive fashion.

For other Christians, there is no distinction expectation concerning dress.

But, if we don’t appear to represent Christ in some distinctive manner like the Amish or the Mennonites do, then how might we act as ambassadors (to use Paul’s description) for Christ?

Perhaps one way might be in our speech. In today’s social climate, it’s probably not a good way to proclaim Christ by waying of stating something to someone on the order of, “If you died tonight, would you be sure that you were going to heaven?” Granted, some Christians will use such an avenue of introduction and approach as they share the Good News with others. Alas, some Christians use an even blunter approach, which is equally as undesirable or unproductive (in my view).

If we take Paul’s admonition that we are to be ambassadors, then perhaps a more-gentle approach – which is a hallmark of successful diplomacy – is the better approach. For example, when encountering a person in some sort of distress or trouble, we might say, “Can I pray for you? If you want to share something about what you’re going through, it’ll help my prayers on your behalf, for I feel sure that prayer changes things”.

And, of course, the other avenue that we might faithfully represent Christ is in our behavior and our attitudes toward others. We might, as one place to start, work to lessen the animosity of one group toward another, or to work to regard all persons as children of God and God’s specific, deeply-loved creation.

As we move through our days and our nights, we are – whether we know it or not, or whether we especially like it or not – we are ambassadors for Christ, Christ making His appeal through us. For we are marked as Christ’s own in Holy Baptism, a condition that makes an indelible impression on the soul.

AMEN.