Sunday, December 29, 2024

Christmas 1, Year C (2024)

I Samuel 2: 18 – 20, 26 / Psalm 148 / Colossians 3: 12 - 17 / Luke 2: 41 – 52

This is the homily given at Flohr’s Evangelical Lutheran Church (ELCA) in McKnightstown, Pennsylvania on Sunday, December 29, 2024 by Fr. Gene Tucker.

 

“GROWING IN FAVOR WITH GOD AND WITH OTHERS”

(Homily text: Luke 2: 41 – 52)

When we think about Jesus’ coming among us, and about His ministry, it might be tempting to think that He came, possessed of all the maturity, learning and understanding of an adult.

But Luke reminds us, in this morning’s Gospel text, that Jesus came and that He grew, matured, learned and increased in “favor with God and others”[1] as His life unfolded. Moreover, Luke provides us with a detailed account of Jesus’ birth in chapter two, reminding us that He came as a vulnerable infant, in need of the protection of His earthly parents.

This morning, we capture the only glimpse we have of Jesus’ childhood[2], that time between His birth and the beginning of His ministry. We find Him in the Temple in Jerusalem, age twelve, engaging in a question-and-answer session with some of the teachers there. Luke tells us that those who witnessed this give-and-take were “amazed” at His understanding and His answers.

Jesus undoubtedly had a good foundation in the Law of Moses (Torah), for his earthly parents were faithful in making an annual visit to the Temple in Jerusalem each year for the Feast of Passover. It’s probably logical to think that Jesus was taught the precepts of Torah as His life unfolded.

Perhaps, along the way, as His years increased, He also learned a lot from observing what was happening in the society of the time.

Though we don’t know for sure, we might be able to draw some conclusions about the things He learned if we look at some of the recurrent themes in His teaching and in His interaction with others.

Let’s explore some of those themes:

Clean vs. uncleanApparently, God’s people in the time of our Lord’s earthly ministry were preoccupied with what (or who) was clean, and what (who) was not. Consider, for example, Jesus’ interaction with the leper who asked for healing (Matthew 8: 1 – 4). Jesus reaches out and touches the sick man. By the reckoning of the time, when Jesus touched the man, He, too, became unclean. Unclean people could not enter the Temple in Jerusalem. Nor could those who had skin conditions, or were lame.

Unclean people were often excluded from society…think of the lepers who were forced to live outside the community.

Outward appearance and religious observance vs. inner righteousness before God: Jesus calls the Pharisees and the scribes “whitewashed tombs” that are “full of dead men’s bones”[3] to describe their preoccupation with outward appearance.

In a similar fashion, John the Baptist leaves the Temple and the possibility that He, too, could serve as a priest there, as his father did, to go into the wilderness to proclaim a baptism of repentance for sin. John’s concern is for inner holiness, rather that an outward, going-through-the-motions sort of religious practice that may have been common in the Temple.

Corruption is a factor in this concern. Consider that it is the Pharisees, the scribes and the priests who conspire to kill Jesus, because His ministry and His popularity were beginning to pose a threat to their positions and prerogatives.

God’s blessings and God’s cursesThe common belief seemed to be that, if a person was healthy and was well-off, then that must be because they were doing all the “right stuff”. God had blessed them because of their righteous living. Conversely, the opposite was also true: If a person was sick or was poor, then the conclusion must be that God had withdrawn His blessing from their lives. (See the account of Jesus’ healing of the man born blind in John, chapter nine. There, we find those who are seeking a reason for the man’s blindness ask if it was his parents’ sin, or his, that was the cause.)

But the Lord tells the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus[4] to counteract this sort of thinking: It is poor Lazarus that finds favor with God, while the rich man is thrust out of God’s presence.

The command to love: Inherent in many of the threads we’ve been exploring in this homily is the requirement to love God with all of one’s heart, soul and mind, and to love one’s neighbor as oneself.[5]

Love bridges gaps. Love enables one to forgive another. Love cares for the welfare of another.

We who are followers of Jesus, His modern-day disciples, are called to be concerned about each and all of these things, things that formed a consistent concern of the Lord’s ministry.

We are called to love; we are called to seek inner holiness, a holiness that is matched by our outward action; we are called to seek out the lost, the outcast, and the unlovable, in order to bring them into relationship with God and with others.

So, come Holy Spirit, open our minds to see the Lord’s call to us, to emulate His concerns and to pursue them.

AMEN.

 



[1]   Notice that this same phrase is used to describe the prophet Samuel’s growth and maturity. See I Samuel 2:26.

[2]   It is possible to come to the conclusion that the visit of the Magi, as is found in Matthew 2:1 – 15, happened when Jesus was no longer an infant, but a very young child, for that is the word we find in Matthew 2:11.

[3]   Matthew 23:27 - 28

[4]   See Luke 16:19 – 31. This parable is one that Luke, alone, provides us.

[5]   Matthew 22:37 

Tuesday, December 24, 2024

The Eve of the Nativity, Year C (2024)

Isaiah 9: 2 – 7 / Psalm 96 / Titus 2: 11 – 14 / Luke 2:1 – 20

This is the homily given at Flohr’s Evangelical Lutheran Church (ELCA), McKnightstown, Pennsylvania, on December 24, 2024 (Christmas Eve) by Fr. Gene Tucker.

 

“WHAT IF THERE WAS NO…”

(Homily text: Luke 2: 1 – 20)

Sometimes, I think that the everyday, ins-and-outs of life can cause us to cease to see the blessings in our lives, and the opportunities for giving thanks for those blessings.

It might be a useful exercise for us to try to imagine what life would be like without those things, and especially those things that pertain to God’s love and God’s presence.

So, we might begin on a more ordinary note, and work our way from there up to a realization of how important our relationship is with God.

We begin with two ingredients of everyday life:

First, try to imagine what life would be like without coffee … Millions of people, the world over, begin the day with a cup of coffee. Or – as an Army buddy of mine used to say, “I blend into the day, no quick moves, no sudden decisions”.  Attendant to the blessings that coffee offers are the many rituals which surround its consumption.

Second, try to imagine what the world would be like without chocolate … Chocolate is one of the Basic Food Groups. Or – should I say – it is to me. The amazing variety of chocolate that is available to us is astounding. Consider that there is milk chocolate, dark chocolate (good for the heart, they say), baker’s chocolate (ever had that? It’s not at all sweet!), and chocolate mixed with nuts, coconut, or various kinds of fillers in the chocolate drops that we eat a good bit of during this holiday season. By no means am I suggesting that this is a comprehensive list of the ways in which we might enjoy chocolate.

(Now, just to be a bit humorous, imagine the world before the discovery and the coming of coffee and chocolate. I think the world, back then, must’ve been filled with grumpy people who never woke up. Just sayin’.)

So, speaking personally, I am deeply thankful to be living in a world where the simple pleasures that coffee and chocolate offer are available. I think I am richly blessed to be living in such a world.

I also think I am richly blessed to be living in a world where God has been active, and is active today.

Now, consider what the world would be like if Jesus Christ had never been born, had never ministered among us human beings, had never died for our sins, had never been raised from the dead, and whose first coming will be followed by His second coming. Try to imagine a world like that.

I think such a world would look vastly different from the world we see around us now, even though much of what we see in the world doesn’t bring joy to God. To start with, consider that our calendar would be vastly different, for the calendar we are used to is based on Jesus’ birth (OK, we might acknowledge that the actual date of Jesus’ birth is unknown, and it’s likely that He wasn’t born on December 25th. We might also acknowledge that the calendar as it exists today is, perhaps, as much as six or seven years off from the Lord’s actual birth date).

For another example, there would be no Church in the world. As broken as the Church often is, and as often as it’s gotten off track at times in history, God, somehow, manages to bring the Church back to its central purpose and ministry. (The Church stands in need of reform in each and every age, in some way or another.) If God’s continuing refinement of the Church isn’t proof that God can work with broken-down, fallible human beings – the ones who make up the Church - I don’t know what is.

To cite yet one more example, much of our concept of human rights and human dignity is based on Judeo-Christian values. At least it seems that that’s the case to me. We believe that each and every human being has intrinsic value and worth. We know this to be true by the way our Lord Jesus Christ treated people.

Now, let’s turn this exercise to the personal level: Try to imagine what our lives, each of us, would be like if Jesus Christ had not taken up residence in our hearts and in our minds.

Here’s my personal witness to this reality: Down through life, with its twists and turns, challenges, disappointments and mistakes (and yes, there’ve been some of those in my life), each and every time – as I look over my shoulder at the past – I can see God’s abiding presence in the person of Jesus Christ. There’ve been times when God could just as easily given up on me. But, He didn’t. Thanks be to God!

You see, a personal relationship with God the Father through God the Son, Jesus, the Christ, is the foundation, the basis, for a full and meaningful life. What we’re talking about here isn’t just knowing about God and knowing about Jesus. It’s about knowing Him personally, because we have invited Him to take up residence in our hearts and in our minds.

That is, my dear friends, the reason that God sent His Son into the world, so that the world could know of God’s love, God’s mercy, God’s forgiveness, and the richness of life that is possibly only through a lively, ongoing, personal faith in Jesus Christ.

A necessary step in the process of knowing Jesus Christ (instead of knowing about Jesus Christ) is to come to some realization that we have invited Him to come and be our permanent guest, taking up His rightful place in our hearts. Sometimes, we come to that place, that realization, over time, and can only see it in the rear-view mirror of life. At other times, we can name and time, a place, a prayer, that we’ve offered, inviting the Lord to come, enter our hearts, and give us the richness of His presence, a gift that will never end.

Try to imagine such a life, and be thankful.

AMEN.


Sunday, December 22, 2024

Advent 4, Year C (2024)

Micah 5: 2 – 5a / For the Psalm: Luke 1: 46b – 55 / Hebrews 10:5  – 10 / Luke 1: 39 - 45

This is the written version of the homily given at Flohr’s Evangelical Lutheran Church (ELCA), McKnightstown, Pennsylvania on Sunday, December 22, 2024 by Fr. Gene Tucker.

 

“GOD SETS IN MOTION A PLAN TO FIX THINGS”

(Homily text: Luke 1: 39 – 45)

A family member comes into the house and says, “The car won’t start. I think it needs to go to the shop. It needs to be fixed”. Your spouse says, “The dishwasher is on the fritz, can we call the repairman and see if he can fix it?” You start up the computer, in hopes of getting something done, but it has chosen to act up, and so you decide it’d better go to the computer shop so it can be fixed.

We live in a world where the machines, the vehicles, the tools, and the electronic gadgets we make use of, all will need fixing at some point or another. As good as many of those things are (I think, in this regard, of the old car I used to drive when I first went into the Army many years ago, and how much more tender loving car (and fixing) it needed in order to keep running than modern ones do), the perfect vehicle, the flawless machine, the perfectly-behaving computer, none of these has come along yet.

What we’ve just said about these things can also be said about human beings, about the ways in which human beings relate to one another, and about how human beings relate to God.

Down through time, God has had to remind us humans about His perfect design and His perfect will for the world and for the human beings who inhabit that world.

In a very real sense, we could say that Holy Scripture is a record of God’s work to fix things that human beings have managed to damage or break, things like relationships, things like our love of idols[1], things like our abilities to destroy our relationship with God. In the pages of Holy Scripture, we read of God’s design and intent for the world. We also read of God’s calling to prophets in ancient times and in our own day, prophetic voices to remind us of God’s will and God’s design, voices which call us to return to God’s desire for the world and for us.

God acts, over and over again, to initiate a plan to fix things, and to bring them into conformity with His designs for the world.

This observation brings us to the visit[2] of the Blessed Virgin Mary to her cousin, Elizabeth, which is our appointed Gospel reading for this morning.

In order to set the stage for this visit, we might do well to back up into the early parts of the first chapter of Luke’s Gospel account, to remind us of how we got to the point of this meeting between Mary and Elizabeth, both of whom are soon to be mothers.

Early on in chapter one[3], Luke tells us that John the Baptist’s father, Zechariah, is visited by the angel Gabriel while he is serving in the Temple in Jerusalem. Gabriel tells him that he is to become the father of a son, who will be named John. Zechariah says, in response, that he is now an old man, and his wife (Elizabeth) is also old. We know from Luke’s telling us elsewhere[4] in chapter one that they have been unable to have children.

Luke then turns his attention to Gabriel’s visitation to Mary. He tells her that she, too, will bear a son, who will be named Jesus.

Two things are worthy of our notice at this point: One is that, in each case, the conception of these two sons is a miracle, brought about by God…in Zechariah and Elizabeth’s case, they’d never been able to have children. In Mary’s case, she wonders how it is that she will be the mother of Jesus, since she is unmarried. The other thing that’s worthy of notice is that, in each case, following the doubting, the wondering and the questioning, each person involved is faithful in bringing about the birth of these two sons: Zechariah and Elizabeth, despite their lack of success in having children, nonetheless engage each other to bring about the conception and birth of John. Mary assents to Gabriel’s announcement, saying that she is willing to be the Lord’s servant, becoming pregnant through the power of the Holy Spirit.

Now, with the visit of Mary to Elizabeth, God’s plan begins to take shape. Each mother-to-be knows (quite likely) of the other’s engagement with God’s agent, Gabriel. Each one (most likely) shared with each other what Gabriel predicted about these sons and their impact on the world’s future.

In time, John the Baptist will be the culmination of the long line of Old Testament prophets, who called God’s people to return to God’s intent for His people. These ancient voices functioned to do two things: To remind God’s people of God’s perfect will and intent, and to also remind them that their behavior and attitudes didn’t reflect that perfect will.

When we become aware of the need to fix things, we are aware that the current state of whatever it is that needs to be fixed isn’t working or functioning like the design and intent with which it was created.

The same is true for our relationship with God.

Our Lord Jesus Christ came (and comes) among us, to show us God’s perfect nature, God’s perfect will, and God’s perfect love. But that isn’t all that our Lord came to do. He also came to remind us that we (all humans in all times and places) often fall short of God’s perfection.

But our Lord does one more thing: He makes it possible for the gap between God and us to be bridged, for the Lord offers perfect forgiveness, the chance for amendment of life and a new and resurrected life, and an ongoing, intense and personal relationship with God through His redemptive work. Our Lord Jesus Christ comes as the perfect agent, given by the Father, to fix that relationship.

Thanks be to God!

AMEN.



[1]   I use the word “idol” not so much as an object of human design and making that is worshipped, but in the sense of anything (no matter how valuable or good it might be in and of itself) that takes God’s rightful place in our lives.

[2]   This event is commemorated each year on May 31st in many church calendars.

[3]   This isn’t a complete account of all that took place during Gabriel’s visitation. I encourage you to read the entire first chapter.

[4]   Luke 1:5 - 7 

Sunday, December 15, 2024

Advent 3 (Gaudate Sunday), Year B (2024)


Zephaniah 3: 14 – 20 / Isaiah 12: 2 – 6 / Philippians 4: 4 - 7 / Luke 3: 7 – 18  

This is the homily given at Flohr’s Evangelical Lutheran Church (ELCA), McKnightstown, Pennsylvania, on Sunday December 15, 2024 by Fr. Gene Tucker.

 

“SACRAMENTAL LIVING”

(Homily text: Luke 3: 7 – 18)

The topic for this morning’s Gospel could easily be called “St. John the Baptist, Chapter Two”.

Recall that, last Sunday, we were introduced to John’s story, the account of his father, Zechariah, offering a prayer for his new son; John’s call to go into the wilderness, rather than to follow in the footsteps and the career of his father as a priest in the Temple in Jerusalem; and John’s radical call for repentance and for beginning a new and holy life, rather than simply going through the motions of religious observance (such as was happening in the Temple).

This morning’s Gospel picks up with John’s urgent call and warning to those who had come out into the wilderness; some of them just to check up on what John was doing; some of them who were simply curious (perhaps) about the stories they’d been hearing about this priest’s son who’d shunned his expected calling to work in the Temple; and some of them to come, enter the waters of the Jordan River, confess their sins (remember that, last week, we remarked that John probably required those who’d come to make their confession to do so orally and aloud) in order to begin a new and holy life.

John says to those in his hearing: “You brood of vipers, who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?”

Then he says: “Bear fruits in keeping with repentance”, adding, “Do not say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father, for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham’”.

In this second statement, we have (I think) the essentials of the meaning of the Church’s Sacraments, and, therefore, sacramental living that flows from our encounter with God in the Sacraments. Notice John’s reference to the inner change that is the goal of the baptism he was administering: Confession of sin, a “coming clean” with God, and the beginning of a new life…that’s the focus of the first part of the statement, the part that refers to repentance. The statement begins, however, with the outer (and visible) aspect of the actions that will flow from repentance and the journey into the waters to be cleansed from sin and unrighteousness. So, John says, “Bear fruit”.

Now, look back at the preceding paragraph again. I’ve highlighted in italics the two aspects of John’s work; He is concerned with inner renewal and with outward, observable actions which flow from that renewal.

Here, we come to the definition of a Sacrament: It is a holy act which is composed of an outward and visible sign, signifying an inner and invisible grace.  (Hope the use if italics makes it easier to see the dynamic involved.)

So, for example, as we look at the Church’s two great Sacraments, we can see this inward/outward dynamic at work.

In Holy Baptism, we are claimed by God as His child; we are cleansed of the Original Sin with which we came into the world; and we are buried with Christ in a death like His, in order to be raised to a new life like His.[1] Those are the inward and invisible things that happen in Baptism.

The outward and visible sign of Baptism is water.[2]

Now, let’s consider Holy Communion.[3]

The inward and spiritual grace which takes place in Communion is that we receive the Lord actually.[4] The word “communion” itself means to “be one with”.

The outward sign for Holy Communion is the bread and the wine.

Now, let’s return to John’s comments.

In response to John’s stark warning, and his admonition that one must “bear fruit” which stems from repentance, his onlookers ask, “What, then, should we do?”.

John outlines four commands: 1. If you have clothing to share, share it with others in need; 2. If you have food, do the same; 3. If you are a tax collector, do not extract more in payment than is permitted; and 4. If you are in a position to extract taxes (like a soldier), do not go beyond what is prescribed, using force or threats to do so.”

John’s commands are rooted in the circumstances of the day. In that society, there were many who were in need, dire need. There were tax collectors for whom it was customary to add to the amount of taxes owed in order to pad their own pockets.[5] There were instances when soldiers would take for themselves property above and beyond the taxes owed, using threats to get their way.

Each of the items on John’s list constitute outward and visible actions which point to an inward change-of-heart.

We might regard the process which begins in the heart and which finds its way out into the ways we relate to others as an outward-flowing process.

Such an outward-flowing process is an indispensable part of our renewing walk with God. Consider the Letter of James, which reminds us that “…so also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead”. (James 2:17)

Apparently, the outward-flowing actions which are the fruit of a genuine encounter with God are unavoidable requirements of God’s will and design for the people He has created. This means that what happens in this world, yes, this everyday world, is extremely important to God.

John’s admonition requires us to keep our feet firmly planted in two places: The inner life of God, which is marked by continuing repentance, amendment of life and the seeking of God’s face; and the changes we are able to make in the everyday world, so as to share the love that we have received in Holy Baptism with others.

AMEN.



[1]   See St. Paul’s explanation of this in Romans 6:3 – 9.

[2]   I think that the Lord was wise in choosing water as the outward and visible sign for Baptism, for water can cleanse, water is necessary for life, but water can also kill.

[3]   Known in various Christian traditions as the Lord’s Supper, Holy Communion, or the Mass.

[4]   As Lutherans, we affirm that the Lord is really present in the bread and in the wine, although we do not believe that the accidents of communion (bread and wine) remain, while the substance (the Lord’s body) changes. (This is the Roman Catholic position and belief, known as Transubstantiation”.) The Lutheran position is known as “Real Presence” or “Consubstantiation”. Anglicans also hold to the same belief and position.

[5]   For proof of this, see Jesus’ interaction with the chief tax collector Zaccheaus, Luke 19:1 – 10. 

Sunday, December 08, 2024

Advent 2, Year C (2024)

Malachi 3: 1 – 4 / Luke 1: 68 – 79 / Philippians 1: 3 - 11 / Luke 3: 1 - 6

This is the homily given at Flohr’s Lutheran Church (ELCA), McKnightstown, Pennsylvania on Sunday, December 8, 2024 by Fr. Gene Tucker.

“MATCHING OUR INSIDES TO OUR OUTSIDES”

(Homily texts:  Malachi 3: 1 – 4, Luke 1: 68 – 79 & Luke 3: 1 - 6)

“The voice of one, crying in the wilderness, ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God!” (Isaiah 40:3 – 5)

My first Bishop once said, “If you are going to come and serve here, your insides must match your outsides”.

I’ve never forgotten that comment. It strikes to the heart of the ministry and the work of St. John the Baptist, who was the “voice crying in the wilderness”.

Each year, the Second Sunday of Advent places John the Baptist’s work and ministry before us. His was a counter-cultural ministry, carried out in the wilderness, the place where the troublemakers and the outcasts of society hung out, the place where one often goes to find God.

Let’s remind ourselves about the facts of John’s life and his work.

We should begin by remembering that John was the son of a Temple priest, Zechariah. This morning, we heard Zechariah’s prophecy concerning his son, the Benedictus Domine Deus, as we find it in Luke 1:68 – 79. As the son of a Temple priest, John, too, would have qualified to also serve in the Temple, once he had reached the age of thirty.[1] In fact, he would have been expected to serve in the Temple.

But, instead of choosing to serve as his father did, John went into the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism for the repentance of sins.

Let’s pause here for a bit.

Notice that John isn’t administering the ritual bath[2] that was required before a person could enter the precincts of the Temple. Instead, John is engaging in another sort of bath, one which required the confession of wrongdoing.

At the heart of the focus of John’s ministry is a concern for inner holiness and a right relationship with God. It puts the outward observances, such as those that took place in the Temple, in second place.

John’s work stands in the long tradition of the Old Testament prophets, who called God’s people, again and again, to a right relationship with God, a relationship that required holiness in the heart and in the mind. Consider some of the utterances of these prophets: “What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices, says the Lord? I have had enough of burnt offerings of ram and the fat of well-fed beasts.”[3] (Isaiah 1:11). Or “Your sacrifices are not acceptable, nor your sacrifices pleasing to me.” (Jeremiah 6:20b) Or, “I desire steadfast love, not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.” (Hosea 6:6)

The prophet Joel is especially important in this regard. Hear his words: “Yet even now, declares the Lord, return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments.” (Joel 2:12 – 13a)

As grand and glorious a place as the ancient Temple was, there was a significant problem with its size, scope and beauty: It was all-too-easy to worship the place and not the God that its size and beauty was meant to be a reminder of. It was all-too-easy to concentrate on the rituals associated with the requirements of the Law of Moses (Torah).

Religious observance of this sort can easily devolve into an outward show with little-or-no inner substance, a hollowed-out shell.

In part, it seems that an outward observance, devoid of inner holiness and devotion to God, is John’s concern. We might also add that John probably knew very well just how corrupt the Temple priests were, for they had created a system of currency conversion in order that Roman coinage (which bore the image of the emperor) couldn’t be used to pay for the rituals of the Temple, But these priests were the ones who controlled the rate of exchange. Recall that Jesus said that these priests had made the Temple a “den of thieves”.

John’s focus brings us back to the matter of inner holiness and righteousness before God, instead of a perfunctory, outward cloak of religiosity.

Recall that John’s baptism was a baptism for the forgiveness of sins. It we put ourselves into the waters of the Jordan River as so many did at John’s invitation, can we imagine John saying to those who’d come into the water, “What do you have to confess? Say those things aloud. Be specific”. John’s ministry dealt with the inner soul, the heart and the mind, the condition of those things compared to God’s holiness. If we put ourselves into that scenario, the thought of standing next to John in the water is a daunting one, perhaps even frightening.

The Church today stands at a crossroads: We are inheritors of a system in which the Church enjoyed favor and a privileged place in society. But that system, that favor and that privileged place have gone away. Now, we stand - as the Church – on the margins of society in many ways. In the past, the Church could get away with outward appearances. Now, it no longer can. It could, in times past, enjoy the participation of people who were Christians in name only. The Church could, back then, be content to be the visible Church in the world.

But now, God calls the Church – that part of which that is known as  “organized religion” -  to return to its mandate and its chief concern: Working to build up the membership in the invisible Church, that body of people who have come into a right, holy and intense love relationship with God through Jesus Christ our Lord.

That’s what the Church is to be about. Put another way, the Church’s work is to “introduce people to God and God to people, and to nourish that relationship”. We – as the Church – will be successful in this calling only if we, ourselves, have a genuine and lively faith with the Lord. After all, we can’t share what we don’t have ourselves.

John’s voice calls to us across the centuries, bidding us to (re)enter the waters of baptism, confessing our wrongdoings, our shortcomings, and the ways in which we do not bear faithful witness to what a relationship with the Lord looks like.

Come, Holy Spirit, our souls inspire. Come, Holy Spirit, enable us to see ourselves as you see us. Come, Holy Spirit, root out from within us all things unholy.

AMEN.



[1]   This age may have come from the stipulations outlined in Numbers 4:3.

[2]   The Hebrew word for this ritual bath is mikvah. The ruins of the Qumran community just north of the Dead Sea, the one that produced the well-known Dead Sea Scrolls, had a number of mikvahs, which can still be seen today.

[3]   English Standard Version 

Sunday, December 01, 2024

Advent 1, Year C (2024)

Jeremiah 33: 14 – 16 / Psalm 25: 1 – 10 / I Thessalonians 3: 9 – 13 / Luke 21:25 - 36

This is the homily given at Flohr’s Evangelical Lutheran Church (ELCA), McKnightstown, Pennsylvania on Sunday, December 2, 2024 by The Rev. Gene Tucker.

 

“THE MYSTERY OF FAITH”

(Homily text: Luke 21: 25 – 36)

In my childhood, our family lived at the edge of a good-sized community, in an area where many people had large gardens and small farms.

We had a man in the neighborhood who would come and plow your garden or field. He used a team of two horses, pulling a plow that he sat on. He was quite an unusual sight, as he and his team clattered along the gravel roads from one field to the other. After all, by this time, most people were using tractors to do this sort of work.

One year, we elected to have a large garden, and we hired this man to come and prepare the soil. It was fascinating to watch him work with those two horses. They were a well-matched team, with commands given the animals, along with a subtle flap of the reins. They knew just what every command meant, and they responded quickly.

Along with their harnesses and their behavior, I was fascinated by the blinders that were over part of their eyes. (Those of us who’ve seen the many Amish buggies in our area are familiar with these….they are meant to keep the horses’ attention on the task at hand, and not to get too interested in other things that might catch their eye.)

Now, as we turn our attention to this morning’s Gospel text, keep in mind the image of the teamwork that existed as the plow’s blade was drawn through the soil.

This morning’s text is troubling, at least on the surface. Our Lord says that the coming of the Son of Man will be accompanied by signs in the heavens, troubling signs that the Lord says will cause some to faint, as the nations are in distress. But then, He says that the Son of Man will come in a cloud with power and great glory. His coming is the sign that God’s redemption is drawing near.

(This text is an appropriate one for the season of Advent, for we focus – in this season – on two major themes: Preparing for the Lord’s first coming as a babe, born in Bethlehem, and preparing for His coming again at some point in the future. This text, in particular, prompts us to cast our eyes into the future.)

This text forms part of what some biblical scholars call the “Little Apocalypse”. (I invite you to look at parallel passages in Matthew and Mark’s accounts to see the similarities and the differences.[1]) An apocalypse is a type of text whose purpose is to encourage God’s people to remain faithful, especially in times of turbulence, turmoil and persecution.[2]

But, if we concentrate on the Lord’s assurance that His coming will be the sign of our redemption coming near, then, really, this is good news. It is a great and good gift.

We live in the in-between time between the Lord’s first coming and His second one.

What are we to do as we await that second coming?

We might begin by reminding ourselves of the image with which we began…that of the teamwork that existed between the team of horses and their driver. We are “teamed” with the Lord in Baptism. By virtue of this new life that Baptism grants us, we are called into service with the Lord, called to work in the field of the world. Called to prepare the soil for the planting of God’s final and complete will and word.

To do this, we must remain focused on our relationship with God. It won’t do for us to get distracted by the various things of contemporary life that call out to our attention. The work that God calls us to, and that work which He directs, is the most important and the most central thing we can be doing.

Like the unseen driver sitting on the seat of the plow, the Lord directs us, unseen and yet present in each and every day.

We should expect opposition as we work to prepare the way for the Lord. The rocks, the weeds and the roots in the soil of the world will challenge us as we move forward. The condition of the field of the world often looks pretty daunting!

One final thought is in order, perhaps: It won’t do to sit around, with our eyes fixed on the clouds, awaiting the Lord’s return. Christians down through time have adopted that response, some of them even to the point of selling all their possessions so that they can sit on the hilltop, waiting for the sound of the trumpet.

No!

God has work for us to do. He has provided all the tools we need to do the job. He is confident that the power He provides will overcome the roots, the rocks, the weeds and whatever else might lie in our path as we do our part to bring God’s reign into being.

AMEN.



[1]   Matthew 24: 1 – 51 and Mark 13: 1 - 37

[2]   Apocalyptic literature often contains a mixture of identifiable events/places/things/people, along with other aspects that are symbolic. The challenge in interpreting the meaning of such texts is to be able to discern which is which. 

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Pentecost 26, Year B (2024)

Daniel 12: 1 - 3 / Psalm 16 / Hebrews 10: 11 – 14, 19 - 25 / Mark 13: 1 – 8

This is the homily given at Flohr’s Evangelical Lutheran Church (ELCA), in McKnightstown, Pennsylvania on Sunday, November 17, 2024 by The Rev. Gene R. Tucker.

 

“THE MYSTERY OF FAITH”

(Homily text: Mark 13: 1 – 8)

We must be getting close to the season of Advent, which features a double focus: Preparation for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ as a babe in Bethlehem, and also preparation for the end of all things, when God’s purposes and plan have come to their full fruition.

This morning’s Gospel text can be discomforting, for our Lord points forward to a troubled time when the grandeur of the Temple in Jerusalem will cease to be. The Lord seems to be telling His disciples to look beyond the immediate size and scope of the Temple buildings, forward and beyond their seeming permanence, to a time when it will be necessary to be faithful, and to “endure to the end”, as we read in Mark 13:13 (not part of our appointed text for this morning).

To be faithful is to choose the very best for ourselves.

Hold that thought for a moment, as we look at the history of the building of the Temple, and to the events that caused its destruction.

King Herod the Great, who was a puppet king installed by the occupying Romans, ruled from 37 to 4 BC. The Jewish people had a love-hate relationship with him, for he was only part Jewish, and so – like the hated Samaritans – was not racially and ethnically “pure”. Moreover, Herod had the morals of an alley cat….he murdered some of his own immediate family (so as to maintain his hold on his kingship). But – on the other hand - the Jewish people in that day admired his building of the Temple in Jerusalem.

Construction on this new Temple began in about the year 20 BC. So, by the time of Herod’s death in 4 BC, the Temple was far from complete. In fact, its construction took a total of about 64 years, we hear from historians in that time. By the time of Jesus’ earthly ministry, much of the Temple’s construction was complete, enough, at least, for the disciples to marvel at the size and scope of it.

The Temple’s design was meant to impress: The Temple buildings itself were constructed on top of a large (33 acres) platform, whose walls were made up of large stones, some of which weighed an estimation 20 tons. That platform still exists today, for it was the Temple buildings themselves that were destroyed during the siege of Jerusalem in the year 70 AD. (The holiest site for Jews today is the Wailing Wall, which is at the base of the western wall of the Temple Mount.)

Now, let’s return to Jesus’ foretelling of the destruction of the Temple.

His prediction is of a type of literature and discourse called an “apocalypse”[1]. Oftentimes, when we hear this word, we don’t think of it as an “unveiling”, a pulling back of the curtain which lies over the future, as much as we think of wars and battles. But the basic meaning of “apocalypse” is that it is an unveiling, a peek into God’s plans, purposes and role in the future.

An apocalypse is just that: A glimpse into God’s plans and purposes.

Apocalyptic literature often arises during times when God’s people are in distress. So, another way to see this is to see that apocalyptic writing is meant to encourage God’s people, to enable them to lift their eyes beyond their immediate trouble and distress to see that God is still present, that God is still in control (although it might not look that way at the moment), and to see that God’s purposes will work out for God’s people. In the end, then, apocalyptic literature is meant to reassure God’s people that God will not abandon them, and that nothing can separate them from God and from God’s love, as St. Paul writes in Romans, chapter eight.

The time of Jesus’ earthly ministry was a deeply troubled time. The Jews chafed under the yoke of Roman rule. More than once, they pushed back against it, and then, they began a war to expel the Romans, a war that lasted from 66 – 70 AD, at which time Jerusalem was destroyed, and the Temple along with it.

After Jesus’ death and resurrection, as the young Church went out into the Gentile world, carrying the Good News of God in Christ, it, too, experienced difficult times and troubles. Consider, for example, that every one of the band of Jesus’ original disciples – except for one – suffered a martyr’s death.

Jesus exhorts His early followers, as He exhorts us today, to be faithful. To be faithful is to choose the best path, the best way to relate to God through Christ. To choose to make God the center of our being and our life, is to choose the very best, that very thing that will never go away.

In the age in which we live, many wonder and worry about what the future will hold. Notice, for example, how many pundits there are who offer their scenarios for future events. (Consider, also, the many down through time who’ve tried to predict when Jesus will return….they’ve all been wrong!)

Ours is a troubled age.

But, no matter what comes, we would do well to remember that nothing can separate us from God’s love, God’s strength, and God’s presence. St. Paul’s words, as we read them in chapter eight of his letter to the early Christians in Rome, ring true.

To choose God as first and as the foundation for our lives is to choose the very best. If we do that, then when problems and troubles come along (as they most certainly will from time-to-time), God will be able to strengthen us, God will be able to enlighten us so that we can meet those problems head on. We are assured that the Church will exist until the end of all things. The Church is that place where we meet God, and where God meets us. The Church is that place where we strengthen one another to be faithful until the end.

AMEN.

 



[1]   This section of Mark’s Gospel account is often known as the “Little Apocalypse”.  There are parallel passages in Matthew (24:1 – 51) and in Luke (21:5 – 38). 

Sunday, November 03, 2024

Pentecost 24, Year B (2024)

Deuteronomy 6: 1 – 9 / Psalm 119: 1 – 8 / Hebrews 9: 11 – 14 / Mark 12: 28 - 34

This is the homily given at Flohr’s Evangelical Lutheran Church (ELCA) in McKnightstown, Pennsylvania on Sunday, November 3, 2024.

 

“THE RULES AND THE RULES OF LOVE”

(Homily texts:  Deuteronomy 6: 1 – 9 & Mark 12: 28 - 34)

Back when I was a student at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, NY, some of our singers would sing a song on their recitals entitled “Love in the Dictionary”. The text was a word-for-word definition of the word “love” as is found in dictionaries. The song itself was a bit humorous, as you might imagine.  The text went something like this:

Noun  a.  a powerful emotion felt for another person manifesting itself in deep affection, devotion or sexual desire; b. the object of this emotion; c. God’s regard for His creatures; d. a great liking, fondness; e. no score, nothing.

Verb  a.  to feel the passion of love for; b. to be fond of; c. to delight in, enjoy; d. to be in love.

Jesus makes clear that the requirement to love is as central to our life in God as are the rules that God has laid down for healthy and godly living.

With these two ideas in mind, the rules we are to live by, and the requirement to love, let’s turn our attention to two of our appointed text for this morning.

The Gospel text and our Old Testament reading from the Book of Deuteronomy are well matched, for Jesus quotes from Deuteronomy’s prescription for the most important aspects of a person’s walk with God: The requirement to put God first, and then to love God, others and oneself.

Mark tells us that a scribe came up to Jesus and, in order to test Him, asks, “Teacher, which commandment (in the Law) is the most important?”. Knowing the character of the Pharisees, the scribes and the priestly caste, one might wonder if this scribe had in mind an answer like “you shall not heal on the Sabbath”, or “you shall not pluck grain from the fields on the Sabbath”. Recall that Jesus got into trouble with these religious leaders for doing those two very things (among others).

Instead, Jesus responds by quoting the requirement found in the Law of Moses, the Torah, from Deuteronomy. He says, “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one”.[1] Then, he adds that there is a requirement to love God with one’s heart, mind soul and strength. Then, He says, one must love others and love oneself.[2]

It shouldn’t surprise us that Jesus and those who opposed Him were at odds with what was the most important aspect of a person’s walk with God. The scribes, Pharisees and the priests focused on the legal requirements of the Law of Moses. Stuff like doing no work on the Sabbath, for example. Jesus, in His response, makes it clear that God must form the very center of our lives, but that requirement alone isn’t all there is to the life of faith: Love is the other component that is essential.

It can be quite a challenge to balance God’s prescriptions for godly, holy living with the requirement to keep love as the central component of one’s life. On the surface, these two essential ingredients in a person’s life might seem to be polar opposites to one another.

Indeed, Christians down through time have wavered to one side or the other of these two requirements.

For example, the attitudes of the Pharisees are still evident among Christians who emphasize keeping the rules to the exclusion of ensuring that we act with love toward others and toward God. Judgmental attitudes often are markers of such an approach to faith.

But the other opposite is also present, for some Christians seem to adopt the idea that if we love a person, we’re going to approve of whatever they do. In such cases, love is equated with permissiveness. (Here it would be a good idea to remind ourselves of the meaning of the word “love”.)

If we consider God’s nature, two major realities become apparent: God is a holy God, a righteous God, a God who cannot abide evil. But the other side of God’s nature is that God is a merciful God, a God who loves deeply, intensely and permanently

These two natures inform one another.

If God were only that holy, righteous God, then we could expect that God would reject each and every one of us because of our nature, which falls short of God’s standard of holiness.

If God were only that loving God, then we might think that God is that God who allows and approves of everything we might consider doing or thinking.

In the Sacrament of Holy Baptism, we find both of God’s natures present, as we enter the waters of Baptism, there to die to our old natures and to rise to a new, risen life with Christ.[3] God is the originator of this gift of Baptism. It is God who allows us to descend into the waters, but it is God, through Christ, who offers us a new beginning, a new and forgiven life, a life that has God’s power to overcome shortcomings, failures and sin. God’s love for each one of us forms the basis for knowing what a holy life looks like.

One final thought is in order here: Lutheran teaching and theology emphasize God’s natures as one of holiness and one of love. This understanding is one of the Lutheran gifts to the wider world and to other Christians.

Thanks be to God, who loves us, and who empowers us to live lives that honor God’s love and God’s holiness.

AMEN.



[1]   This is known as the Sh’ma, and it is sung or said in synagogues to this day.

[2]   Jesus quotes from Leviticus 19:18 here.

[3]   This is St. Paul’s description of Baptism, as we find it in Romans 6: 3 – 9. 

Sunday, September 22, 2024

Pentecost 18, Year B (2024)

 Jeremiah 11:18 – 20 :: Psalm 54 :: James 3:13 -4:3, 7 – 8a :: Mark 9:30 – 37

This is the homily given at Christ Evangelical Lutheran Church (ELCA), Gettysburg, Pennsylvania on Sunday, September 22, 2024 for Fr. Gene Tucker.

 

“THE MYSTERY OF FAITH”

(Homily text: Mark 9:30 – 37)

A good part of my Army career was spent as a singer in the U. S. Army Chorus, which is an element of the U. S. Army Band (Pershing’s Own) in Washington, D.C.

As part of our after-dinner entertainment, we would often close our performance with a setting of a song that came from the early years of World War II, entitled “Dogface Soldier”.

Some lines from that song offer us a way to begin to consider our Gospel reading for this morning. Here are the lyrics I have in mind:

I wouldn’t give a bean to be a fancy-pants Marine,
I’d rather be a Dogface Soldier like I am.

I wouldn’t trade my old ODs for all the Navy’s dungarees,
‘cause I’m the walkin’ pride of Uncle Sam.

On all the posters that I read, it says, “The Army Builds Men”,
so they’re tearing me down to build me over again …

Here-in lies a mystery: Each new recruit to the military is infinitely valuable, but only if that new recruit can be torn down in order to be rebuilt. For our walk of faith, we are reminded that each one of us is infinitely valuable to God, but only if we offer only ourselves to be remolded into the image of God.

That “tearing down, in order to rebuild” sentiment in the song lies at the heart of what Jesus is doing in this morning’s Gospel text, reminding His disciples that, in order to be useful to God, they’re going to have to allow themselves to be torn down, so that the Lord can rebuild and remold them into useful tools for the ministry that lies ahead of them.

Before we look at this morning’s text, let’s back up to last Sunday’s appointed text in order to see where we’ve been.

Last week, we hear Jesus ask His disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” In response, the disciples offer various answers (probably ones they’d heard from the crowds). Then, Jesus asks “But who do you say that I am?” Peter says, “You are the Messiah, the Christ”.

Perhaps at that point, the Lord figures that the disciples are ready for the next lesson, so He says that the Son of Man will go to Jerusalem, where He will suffer, die and be raised on the third day. Peter takes Jesus aside and begins to rebuke Him. Jesus responds by saying, “Get behind me, Satan, you are thinking like the world thinks, not as God thinks”. Then Jesus makes explicitly clear where the road to Jerusalem leads: To the cross.

The cross is the perfect example of that “tearing down”, self-emptying process with which the walk with God, the walk to usefulness in God’s plans, begins.

Now, this morning, Jesus repeats the prediction of what will happen once He gets to Jerusalem.[1]

Then, Jesus offers an object lesson on the requirement that, in order to enter the kingdom, we can bring only ourselves, leaving behind any pretense, any past achievements or status: He take a little child and sets the child in the midst of the disciples. While we may think that this is a lovely picture, in the culture of the day, there’s more going on….in the culture of the day, a child was a nobody. Oh, yes, children were an older person’s security in their old age, but the mystery is that children were not regarded with much value, unlike the attitudes in our own society today.

So the mystery unfolds: To enter the kingdom and to be useful to God, one must bring only ourselves, allowing God to “tear us down” in order to rebuild us again.

Perhaps we shouldn’t be too hard on that original band of Jesus’ followers. After all, their claims to self-importance simply mirror the ways of the world in which they lived. The scribes, Pharisees and the priests all promoted their own importance. So did the Romans. Might makes right, the most powerful win, etc.

But Holy Scripture offers us a completely different set of values: Consider, for example, that it is often the younger who is more favored in God’s sight. It is the poor, the lowly, the outcast, whom the Lord seeks out.

Being in the world, for people of faith, brings along with it the challenge that we mustn’t allow the attitudes of the world to seep into our set of values and the ways we think and behave. Nor must the Church allow such values to infiltrate its life and witness to the world.

To assist in resisting the attitudes of the world, we engage in confession at the beginning of our liturgy, bringing only ourselves and offering to God ourselves, in all honesty confessing the ways in which we’ve not honored God’s ways and will for us. We come in Holy Baptism, offering only ourselves, allowing this ritual death and resurrection process to begin our walk with God. We come to the holy table of the Eucharist, being reminded that it is a ritual re-enactment of Jesus’ own self-emptying process on the cross for our welfare and for our salvation. We come to this holy table, seeking not to be consoled, but to be remolded into the image of Christ. We come, not to only to be comforted, but to be challenged.

Each of these liturgical acts has in common the conviction that we must bring only ourselves in offering to God. The mystery is that our very selves is that one thing that God most seeks to receive.

Come, Holy Spirit, kindle within our hearts the willingness to be emptied, that we might be rebuilt and remolded into useful tools for God’s purposes and work.

AMEN.



[1]   There are three such predictions in Mark’s text.