Archived
Homilies
This page
comprises an archive of those most-requested homilies delivered by
Father RJ Johnson.
The following homily was delivered by Father Johnson on
the second Sunday in Lent, March 8,
2009:
From an early age, he had
learned how to earn the approval of others. As a young boy he
learned that eating vegetables and refusing anything more than a
modest dessert would win him a favorable comparison to his older
brother, who ate the bare minimum necessary to get dessert. In his
first years of school, he discovered that sitting quietly and only
speaking when called upon would make him the favorite of every
teacher. In his church youth group, he found that by volunteering
for every service project he could prompt church leaders to point to
him as a good example for all of the other young men and women to
follow. As an adult, he discovered that giving in a way that was
public, but not too public, earned him the reputation of being
charitable. Making a point of ordering only one glass of wine while
dining out earned him the distinction of being temperate. Never
losing his temper made people think of him as self-controlled. He
had built a life that was the mirror image of self-denial; that is
to say, it was exactly the opposite of self-denial.
One of the dangers when we
read the exhortation of Jesus to deny our selves and take up His
cross and follow where He has led the way is that we may have a
mirror image of what self-denial really is. St. John of the Cross
warned his disciples that there were many in his own day who were
teaching a kind of asceticism which had all of the outward trappings
of self-denial, but was really very self-centered. He spoke of
mortifications of the flesh, such as extreme fasts and
self-flagellation, which had all of the appearances of holiness, but
were nothing more than the product of a desire to gain the
reputation of holiness, and an even stronger desire to earn the
respect of God. It is entirely possible to deny ourselves all of the
pleasures of life in this world, and at the same time fail to deny
our selves. It is that sort of mirror image of self-denial that was
so often at the heart of the conflict between Jesus and the
Pharisees.
True self-denial is
something much deeper. True self-denial is the surrender of our
wills and our desires to the desires and will of God. True
self-denial is what lies at the heart of the cross of Christ Jesus.
We must not make the mistake of thinking that the cross was a
pleasant prospect to Jesus. Nor may we imagine that the cross was a
way for Jesus to win the approval of His contemporaries. The cross
was so distant from anyone’s imagination of victory that, when Jesus
spoke of going to the cross, Peter began to rebuke Him. The desire
to find a way other than the cross posed such a temptation that
Jesus could only say that it was for Satan that Peter was speaking
at that moment. For Jesus, the cross was nothing less than the
fulfillment of His self-denial. It was an act of complete surrender
to the Father’s love and care for Him, and for His creation. It was
this self-denial, this loss of His own life, that ultimately led to
the victory of Christ over sin and death.
At first glance, true
self-denial may not appear to make much sense. After all, it does
not look like we get much out of it. The mirror image of self-denial
may well earn us the approval of others, or at least some sense of
achievement. But when we surrender our wills and desires to God, we
may end up despised and rejected with Jesus who was despised and
rejected. With a deeper understanding, however, we may grasp the
true wisdom of the kind of self-denial that leads to the cross of
Christ. In our reading from the Letter of Paul to the Romans, the
question is posed, "If God is for us, who is against us?" or again,
"Who will separate us from the love of God?" The reason that
self-denial, the surrender of our wills and our desires to God,
sounds so terrifying is that we do not understand the love of God.
His desire is to create in us the desires He intends for us to have.
His will for us is to have the fulness of life that can only be
found when our minds are united to the mind of Christ. The assurance
that we have of the love of God is that He did not withhold his own
Son. If God gave His only Son for us, what would He withhold from
us? Self-denial puts us in the place where we are open to receive
the love of God. It opens us to receive what He desires to give. It
allows our hearts to be united to His so that we can live as He
intended us to live. Self-denial allows God to uproot the deep roots
of self-centered desires that enslave us to defending the images
that we try to project to the world as we rest in God’s
unconditional love for us.
We need to relinquish many
of the ideas that we have learned from an early age. If we live for
the approval of others, we become the slaves of their expectations.
No matter how pious our actions may appear, they spring from the
root of the desire to hold onto our own selves. If we construct
lives that are designed to protect what we possess, whether our
possessions are material or relationships or even deeply rooted
opinions, then we leave no room for God’s love to penetrate our
lives. We only hold on to the chains that bind us. If, on the other
hand, we honestly pray, "Thy Kingdom come in my life. Thy will be
done in me," there is no more need for us to defend ourselves. If
our self-understanding is that we were created to love God and enjoy
His presence, we will no longer be bound by the mercurial affections
of this world. If we are willing to submit our own understanding to
God’s revelation of Himself in His holy word, and in the Word
incarnate, Jesus Christ, then we will no longer feel the need to
defend our own opinions.
To what in your life are
you holding so tightly that it has you firmly in its grip? What do
you fear to surrender to the will and desires of God? It may not be
something that the rest of the world would consider wrong. It may
even have the appearance of self-denial, but the thought of letting
go of it is terrifying to you. If you keep holding on, it will
prevent you from following where Christ Jesus has led the way. It
will keep you from fully committing yourself to the love of God. If
you surrender it, you will open yourself to the love of God from
which nothing in all of creation can separate you. Isn’t that truly
the longing of our hearts - to really know the love of God and find
our lives in Him?
The following homily, based upon
1 Corinthians 9:16-23, was delivered by Father Johnson on Sunday,
February 8, 2009:
When I was taking Drivers’
Education in high school, our instructor posed an important question
to us about right-of-way: If a car was entering a limited access
highway from an on ramp, and another car was in the right-hand lane
of that highway, which driver has right-of-way? The first student to
raise his hand thought it was an easy question. He said that it is
the car already on the highway. The instructor promptly informed him
that he was incorrect. So, I raised my hand, knowing that in a
fifty-fifty scenario, with one option gone, I could not lose. Even
though I had thought the first answer was correct, it had to be the
second one. I was quite surprised when the instructor told me that I
was also wrong. A murmur of disbelief spread through the class.
There were only two drivers. One of them had to have right-of-way.
"That’s the problem with you young people," he said, "You’re all too
concerned with your right-of-way. Both drivers have the
right-of-way. It’s not a question of having right-of-way. It’s a
question of yielding your right-of-way."
This lesson revolutionized
the way I thought about driving. Of course the question was not
about who has right-of-way. The question is about driving in an
orderly way so that everyone can get where they are going safely.
Even if the other driver is supposed to yield right of way to me, if
I insist on him yielding to me, we just might not make it to our
destination.
In his First Letter to the
Corinthians, St. Paul was writing to members of a church who were
very much focused on their freedoms and their rights. Questions of
eating meat sacrificed to idols, exercising their spiritual gifts,
and asserting their preeminence were in the forefront of their
minds. St. Paul informed them that they were missing the point of
the freedom granted to them by Jesus Christ. If they exercised their
freedom all the time without regard for other members of the church
and, perhaps more important, those outside of the church, they would
create chaos. The question was not about what freedoms they were
allowed, or what rights they had, or who was preeminent. The
question was, how could they use their freedom for the sake of the
Gospel? How could they use the rights given to them to spread God’s
Kingdom? How could they use their position of preeminence in a way
that would reflect the greater glory of God?
This is what St. Paul was
talking about when he said that he had, "Become all things to all
people so that by all means he might save some." I have heard this
passage interpreted to mean that Paul is simply saying that we
should mirror the culture. After all, if we don’t go along to get
along, people might be offended. If our culture says that marriage
is a plastic structure that changes with societal definitions, then
we should embrace what our society says about marriage. If our
society says that wealth and power are of ultimate importance, then
we do well to amass as much wealth as we can even if that means
ignoring the poor. If our society says that styles and status are
the most important thing, then we need to shop at Nieman Marcus and
Saks Fifth Avenue. Nothing could have been further from St. Paul’s
mind when he wrote those words.
When St. Paul said, "To the
Jews, I became a Jew, in order to win Jews," he was not saying that
he was going to return to justifying himself by a strict observance
of the ritual laws. He was instead saying that he would conform to
Jewish practices, like keeping the Sabbath and following the kosher
laws so that he would not distract the Jews from the message of the
Gospel of Christ. He was free from the Sabbath regulations, and
there were times when it must have been a hardship for Paul to keep
the Sabbath. It was often more work to appropriately rest on the
Sabbath by the contemporary Jewish standards, than it would have
been for Paul to go on with his work. However, Paul yielded that
freedom for the sake of the spread of the Gospel. There were
probably times when Paul was with Gentiles that he would rather not
have eaten what was on the table. After a lifetime of believing that
certain foods were unclean, he must have felt squeamish at times
eating them, but for the sake of the Gospel of Christ, he would eat.
The point is that Paul used his freedom in Christ to forward the
Gospel rather than to assert his own self interest. What St. Paul is
pointing out is that Christ did not set us free so that we could
become more self-centered, or more dominating. We were given freedom
in the Spirit so that we could become more like Jesus. Christ has
given us freedom to serve one another for the sake of the Gospel,
for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven.
This problem still plagues
the church. We use our freedom not to become more like Christ, but
instead to assert ourselves and pursue our own interests. We are
free to use our time for recreation, for golf, for boating, and for
fishing. We can use our resources to create more programs and more
organizations to entertain us and enrich our culture. There is no
rule against that. On the other hand, we could use our time to help
feed the hungry, or help people who are illiterate to learn to read.
We can use our resources to create programs for children and youth
to communicate to them the transforming message that God loves them
and has a purpose for their lives, a message that can lift them out
of the shallow materialism that our society offers to them. You may
think you know which set of options to embrace, but the point is not
that we should embrace one set of options or the other. The question
is: How can we do any of these things for the sake of the Gospel?
How can we yield our rights to the higher calling of the Gospel of
Christ? How can we become all things to all people in a way that
draws them to Jesus Christ and the salvation He has to offer?
We will never know how to
use our freedom or exercise our rights as long as we are focused on
the questions of what we are allowed to do. As long as we are
focused on increasing our comfort, our status, and our security, we
will be like drivers who are focused on making sure that others
yield their right-of-way to us. All we will do is create more chaos,
keeping the world in the downward spiral of sin and death. However,
if we embrace the higher purpose of our freedom we can start moving
in the direction that God has set for His creation. We can become
more like Christ Jesus, who for our sake humbled himself, becoming
the servant of all. We will only find meaning in our rights when we
are ready to yield them for the sake of the Gospel. We will only
find purpose in our freedom when we use it to transcend the
self-centered nature from which we have been liberated. We will only
discover that we possess status when we are willing to give it up
for the greater purpose of God’s Kingdom.
The following homily, based upon
Matthew 13:31-49, was delivered by Father Johnson on Sunday, July
27,
2008:
Night after night a man was
disturbed by a recurring dream. He was sitting in a park bench
waiting to meet some friends for lunch when Jesus came to sit next
to him.
“What are you waiting for?” Jesus
asked.
“I am meeting some friends for
lunch” replied the man.
“Can I come with you?” asked
Jesus.
“You don’t understand,” the man
replied, “They aren’t really the type who would be comfortable with
you. They probably would not appreciate it if I brought you.”
“You may be right,” Jesus
responded, “How about after lunch?”
The man replied, “I have to go
back to work.”
“Can I go back to work with you?”
Jesus inquired.
“I don’t think you’d like it
there,” the man responded, “It can get pretty rough in my business.
If you were there, I would not feel right doing some of the things I
have to do.”
“You may be right,” Jesus said,
“How about after work?”
At this point, the man started to
fidget, “I’ll be with my son and daughter. They’re teenagers and
don’t really get into religion. I don’t want them to feel pressured
to believe what I believe. They have to be free to make up their own
minds. ”
A few moments of silence passed
between them as the man realized that the cost to invite Jesus to
really be part of his life was just too high. Finally Jesus broke
the silence, “It sounds like there is no place you will allow me in
your life.”
Jesus compared the Kingdom of Heaven to a treasure or a pearl found
by a person who then sold everything to obtain it. The first
Christians certainly experienced the truth of Jesus’ statement.
Jewish converts were often put out of the synagogue, which was the
center of the Jewish community. Gentile converts in the Roman world
also found that becoming a Christian meant that they would be
outside their society in which the cult of the Emperor was one of
the fastest growing social institutions. For some, becoming a
Christian meant giving up their employment. Silversmiths were often
commissioned to make idols. Soldiers were expected to make
sacrifices. For many, becoming a Christian even came at the cost of
losing close friendships and family relationships. For some, faith
in Christ marked them for execution. For much of the world’s
population, conversion to Christianity still carries a heavy price.
In many nations, conversion from Islam to Christianity carries the
death penalty. In other places, the possession of Christian
literature is cause for being charged as an enemy of the state and
will lead to a sentence in a forced labor camp, euphemistically
called a sentence of “reeducation-by-labor.”
In spite of the cost, joy has
always marked the persecuted church, both in the first centuries,
and in the world today. Jesus said that the man who found the hidden
treasure went with joy to sell all that he had. There is a similar
passion evident in the merchant who sold everything to purchase the
one great pearl. There is something about making the decision to
give up everything in exchange for the Kingdom of Heaven which
produces joy.
In our culture, the price is not quite so clear. Our faith is
tolerated, and even commended at times, as long as we keep it in its
assigned place. Social tolerance of Christianity does have its
limits, however, in our culture. What happens when Christian values
come into conflict with work that is assigned by an employer? I have
seen it happen more than once. A secretary may be asked to lie about
a product that was supposed to be shipped a day earlier. An
appraiser may be asked to inflate the value of a property so that
the loan-to-value ratio will be right for the mortgage company. I
wish I could tell you that the Christian who says no to such a
request will not lose their job, but we all know that is not the
case. How might the world change if we recognized Jesus as the Lord
of our labor, not in a confrontational manner, but in a way that
would inhibit our willingness to participate in immoral practices?
Are we willing to sell everything to find the treasure of God’s
Kingdom?
What happens when following Christ comes into conflict with the
values of our friends? It may be that we are expected to laugh at
jokes that perpetuate racist or misogynist stereotypes. Some people
may expect us to sit in silence as they share malicious rumors about
another acquaintance. Often the conflict can be more subtle, as we
are encouraged to join in the hedonistic materialism of our culture,
to pursue the acquisition of luxuries even when it means living on
credit because we just cannot keep up. Certainly, it would shock
many were we to do something so bold as to talk about the reasons
that we find such pursuits meaningless. Faith in Christ is
considered an impolite topic of conversation. Are we willing to risk
being the subject of jokes and malicious rumors for the sake of
God’s Kingdom?
What happens when following Christ begins to direct our family life?
It may be that some of the money we spend on fuel for the boat goes
instead to support the mission of the church locally and
internationally. How would our spouses and children respond to that?
It may be that we have to let go of long held grudges and offer
forgiveness. We may face more than a little resistance as we pass
our faith in Christ onto our children. Are we willing to pay the
price to pass the message of God’s Kingdom onto our children and
grandchildren, or will we send the message that the price is too
high?
I wish that I could tell you today that in our highly tolerant
society there will be no hardships for those who seek the Kingdom of
Heaven, but that has never been the case in any society in history.
The truth is that the Kingdom of Heaven is costly. If we really want
to find it, we must be willing to give up anything that separates us
from Christ. We must always be asking ourselves if there is
something we are holding back because we are afraid that the cost is
too high.
If you want to know the joy of the first Christians, the joy that
marks the persecuted church even today, the joy that prompted man to
sell everything when he found the hidden treasure, you must be
willing to embrace the Kingdom of Heaven at any cost. It may be
intimidating at times. It may bring certain hardships and discomfort
at times. However, there is no greater joy to be found than is found
in the willingness to trade the things we cannot keep for the
Kingdom of Heaven which cannot be lost.
The following homily, based
upon Matthew 17:1-9, was written by Father Johnson and read in his
absence at Morning Prayer on Transfiguration Sunday (February 3,
2008)
I have heard more than a few sermons, and have read
more than a few commentaries, on the Transfiguration. Unfortunately
the theme of many of these has been something on the order of "God
leads us to the mountain top so that we are ready to get back to
work in the valley," or "It is selfish to want to stay on the
mountain top when the people are suffering in the valley." The theme
that many draw from the experience of Jesus, James, John and Peter
on the Mount of Transfiguration is that we need to work harder in
the valleys. We are told not to linger on the mountain tops, not to
spend too much time contemplating these moments. Rather we are told
to get our heads out of the clouds and our feet back on the ground.
There is work to be done.
Certainly there are many passages in the scriptures which tell us
that we need to take care of business in the valleys, that we cannot
ignore the suffering and lostness of the world around us, and this
is an appropriate message for the church; however, I do not think
that it is the appropriate message for the Transfiguration. Our
focus on getting everyone off the Mount of Transfiguration is
symptomatic of our cultural values. We value busyness more than we
value being. We value action more than we value experience. We value
service more than we value the love that produces true service. We
value our work for God more than we value God’s work in us.
Imagine yourself in the place of James or John, after a long
procession up the rugged side of the mountain. Thousands of steps up
rocky terrain, each one requiring careful attention. Then, you had
done what came very naturally, and fallen asleep after the climb.
Then you are awoken by voices, only one of which is familiar. You
hear the voice of Jesus as he converses with Moses and Elijah. As
you look at Jesus, you see not the dusty figure you expect, but the
radiance of the Son of God revealed. This Jesus, who six days
earlier predicted that he would be rejected and crucified, is
speaking with Moses, the one who brought the law, and Elijah, the
preeminent prophet. The giver of the law, and greatest of the
prophets are both directing your attention to the one who will
suffer and die. You begin to understand that Jesus is not just
another teacher of the law, or even the greatest teacher of the law;
nor is he simply just another prophet, or even the greatest of the
prophets. It is to Jesus that the law and the prophets have been
pointing. It is in Jesus that the law and the prophets are
fulfilled.
Then trembling overtakes you as Moses and Elijah are taken up, and
the cloud of the presence of God descends. Trembling because you
have heard that no one can look upon the face of God and live.
Trembling because your impurity grows more apparent in the light of
the purity of the presence of God. This was not the mountain top
experience that many people speak of when they talk about warm
breezes, sunrises, and friends. This is not the mountain top
experience of comfort. This mountain top is the revelation of God,
the kind of experience at which the psalmist says the people tremble
and the earth shakes. It is the mountain top where God’s action upon
us and in us begins to transform not only the way we behave, but who
we are. Trembling overtakes us because there is no frame of
reference for this event. What can be compared to the presence of
God, or how can we describe it?
What action is possible in such a moment as this? Is anyone
thinking, “Great, this is just what I needed so I can go down into
the valley to meet the needs of the world?” No, the only response is
passive receptivity. The only thing that we can possibly do at this
moment is to allow God to act upon us, to hear what He speaks to us,
to open our hearts to the way that He wants to form us. When Peter
saw Moses and Elijah, he was ready to start a building program. He
said, "This is great, let’s build three booths here." But when the
presence of God descended, even Peter, who always had something to
say, was silent. And even after the cloud had lifted, and the world
once again appeared as the disciples were used to seeing it, their
response was not to get back down the mountain. They waited for the
touch of Jesus.
On the Mount of Transfiguration, the only work that
was performed was performed by God. For Jesus, the path to Jerusalem
was confirmed. It was not only according to the law and the prophets
that Jesus would go to Jerusalem, but it confirmed to Him at that
moment that this was the will of God for His life. The disciples’
eyes and hearts began to open as they experienced the presence of
God in this moment. They began to hear and to see that the person of
Jesus, the Son of God, and the person of Jesus, the suffering
servant, were the same person. And none of this was their work.
Rather the confirmation and transformation that took place on the
mountain top were the work of God.
We need the mountain top experience, not so that we
can rush back into the valley and get to work. We need the mountain
top experience so that we can be passively open to the work of God
in us. The mountain top experience is not the Sabbath rest to
re-energize us to get back to work. Matthew tells us that the
Transfiguration took place on the sixth day. This sixth day has deep
roots in Jewish theology. The seventh day, the Sabbath, is the day
of rest, but the sixth day is the day of the creation of humanity.
It is the day of God’s continuing action, and I do mean God’s
action, and not our action. At the Transfiguration, we see a
foreshadowing of the re-creation of humanity, and of the
resurrection as Moses and Elijah are present with Jesus and the
disciples.
Too often, I think, we have allowed our Christian
faith to become a mere moral system. We have turned faith into acts
of charity, avoiding the forbidden, and generally treating one
another with kindness. While these are certainly the fruit of a
Christian life, they are not the root of a Christian life. The heart
of our faith ought to be allowing God to work in us, to transform
us, to recreate us. This involves a shift in our thinking. We should
focus on being Christians rather than doing Christian things. We
should focus on allowing God to work in us, rather than on our work
for God. We need to value the mountain top not because we are going
back into the valley. Rather the mountain top experience is valuable
because of what happens on the mountain.
The following
homily, based upon Matthew 11:2-11, was delivered by Father Johnson
on Sunday, December 16, 2007:
I was once invited to a small
gathering of friends in North Tulsa. I had never been to the house
before, but I thought had a good idea of what it would look like. I
thought I could tell, because the friend who owned the house always
wore clothing that, although neat, seemed to be indicative of the
poverty of North Tulsa. I was also familiar with the neighborhood,
and on the evening that I drove out there, I passed the kind of
houses I expected. Many had sagging porches, and boards to cover
broken windows. I got to the end of the street, and was certain that
I had written down the wrong house number. There was a long driveway
to a large, recently painted house with beautifully manicured
gardens. I did not recognize any of the cars in the driveway, so I
turned around to drive down the street again. This was before every
college student had a cell phone, so finally, I stopped at a
convenience store to use the telephone. I confirmed the address, and
my friend said that he had seen me pull in the driveway, but that I
had turned around before he could open the door. “Don’t worry,” he
said, “No one ever expects this house to be here.” Sometimes our
expectations blind us to what we are really looking for.
As John the Baptist sat in the dark prison, he heard about the
things that Jesus was doing. Jesus had formed an inner group of
twelve made up of fishermen and even tax collectors. He had been
known to associate with notorious sinners. John had heard rumors
that Jesus violated the Sabbath laws. This was not what anyone
expected of the Messiah. Before he was imprisoned, John had spoken
of one coming with a baptism of fire. He had spoken of one who would
divide the righteous from the evil. Now John sat imprisoned by a
king whom everyone knew to be an unrighteous ruler of convenience.
Perhaps John was hoping that Jesus would rise to power and get rid
of Herod and let John out of the prison. I think I can understand
John the Baptist’s frustration and confusion at the moment when he
sent his disciples to Jesus with the question, “Are you the one? Are
you the Messiah?”
The response that Jesus sends to John is to remind John who He is.
“The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are
cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good
news preached to them.” Jesus was saying, “Do not be offended that I
am not exactly what you had in mind. Do not be offended that I eat
with sinners and welcome them.” The actions of Jesus directly
fulfilled the words of the prophet Isaiah. If John understood his
own message, he would know that Jesus did what He did because He was
the Messiah for whom John had been waiting.
For a moment in that prison, John had forgotten whom he was looking
for. Jesus reminded John that He was not another king like Herod,
wielding a sword to force obedience. He was not another David to
drive out the enemies of Israel by force. Jesus reminded John that
He was the one who would destroy the works of evil at their very
root. He would even destroy death. That was who John was looking
for. That is the one for whom John the Baptist had been sent to
prepare the way.
Jesus then turned to the crowds and asked what they had been looking
for. When they went out to the wilderness to see John the Baptist,
what were their hopes? Obviously they were not looking for a reed
shaken by the wind. They were not looking for another compromised
leader like Herod. They were looking for someone who spoke with
authority. They were not looking for someone dressed in soft robes.
They were not looking for another leader to enjoy luxurious living
by the sweat of the brows of others. Jesus reminded the people that
they were looking for a word from the living God. They were looking
for the one who would signal the end of weak leaders and greedy
overlords. Jesus told them that this is what John had been talking
about. He told them that John was the last in the line of the
prophets to foretell the coming of God’s Kingdom. With Jesus’
ministry the Kingdom had come.
What were you expecting to find here today? Some people come to a
church looking for fellowship, and hopefully they will find that
among us. That is one of the signs of the presence of God’s Kingdom.
Fellowship, however, can be found among many communities. Some
people come to a church looking for comfort. They may find that here
as well. The Gospel is good news to those who will receive it. They
may also find some things that are not quite so comfortable. Part of
the good news of the Gospel is that God is calling us to new and
better ways of living, and making the changes that He leads us to
make is not always comfortable. For some people, the church is a
place where they can participate in charitable work, and there is a
great deal of that going on here. Yet, there are other organizations
devoted to doing good works of charity. Some people might even be
bold enough to admit that they were not really looking for anything
in particular.
What were you expecting when you came here today? My hope is that
you will have an encounter with the risen Lord. Like John the
Baptist, the experience may not be exactly what you thought it would
be. You may tremble when you think of standing in the presence of
God, fearing that He is a harsh judge, and may be surprised to be
met with radical grace. You may be looking for rest and instead be
met with a call to a new ministry. You may not have been expecting
much at all, and be met with a life changing moment. I think that we
all know that we need something more than what the world has offered
us. We need more than another message trimmed to the winds of
society’s favor. We need more than power which dominates: we need
the Spirit of God to transform and renew our hearts. In short, we
need the Kingdom of Heaven.
Take your bulletin home with you today, and put the collect for
today somewhere where it will remind you to pray, “Stir up thy
power, O Lord, and with great might come among us.” Pray this prayer
daily for the rest of the week with the knowledge that God is
listening. Then look for God’s presence. Listen for His call.
Receive His grace and mercy. Let Him transform and renew and refresh
you. Isn’t that what we have been looking for?
The following
homily, based upon Matthew 24:37-44, was delivered by Father Johnson on
Sunday, December 2, 2007:
I am convinced that we live in
a world that has fallen asleep. When I see the network news programs
in the morning, and more time is devoted to what happened on last
night’s reality television show than is devoted to a peace
conference, I know that someone has fallen asleep. When I hear that
twenty-five thousand people die of hunger related diseases every day
while governments sit on immense stores of grain, I know that
someone has fallen asleep. When I read that household debts in the
United States continue to skyrocket so that children can go to
school with cell phones and Ipods, then come home to watch satellite
television on high definition televisions, I know that someone has
fallen asleep. When I see that people cannot appreciate the wonder
of a child’s joy because they are too busy, or they cannot see the
beauty of the fall palette that God has spread so gloriously, I know
that someone has fallen asleep.
We live in a world that has fallen asleep because innocence has been
lost to cynicism, and so people lower their aspirations so they will
not be disappointed. The world has fallen asleep because our
God-given curiosity has been lost to arrogance so that men and women
will not have to admit that their knowledge is incomplete. The world
has fallen asleep because compassion has been lost to callousness so
that we do not have to deal with the suffering of those less
fortunate than ourselves. The world has fallen asleep because we do
not believe that any person can do anything of significance in the
face of all that is wrong. The world has fallen asleep because it
has not embraced the hope of the Gospel of Christ, the hope that
says that the Spirit of God is at work in the world, transforming
and renewing it. The world has fallen asleep because it cannot bear
the knowledge that there is righteousness and that the present
system of this world will come under judgment.
We live in a world that is asleep with the expectation that
everything will go on as it always has, that there will always be
more time. We live in a world in which people ignore the ever
present, yet gentle call of God, to return to Him because there is
always tomorrow to pray or to listen to the words of scripture, or
to repent. We live in a world in which people are asleep to the vast
poverty in many other parts of the world, thinking that what is
happening there can never happen here. We live in a world in which
many people are asleep even to their most important relationships,
thinking that there will always be another day to extend or receive
forgiveness. If only we knew the number of our days.
Jesus told his disciples that the coming of the Son of Man, that
great day of judgment, would be like the days of Noah when people
were going about life with no awareness of the impending disaster.
It will be like the coming of a thief in the night which no one can
anticipate. Then Jesus told his disciples to “keep awake” and to “be
ready.” There is no certainty as to the hour of judgment for anyone.
Yet, there is certainty that the hour is coming for everyone. It may
be a cataclysmic event, as it was for Jerusalem when the Romans
marched in and destroyed the city. It may be that great day when our
Lord returns to establish the new heaven and the new earth. It may
be a quiet, seemingly peaceful moment, when we slip from this life
into the next. There is one thing about it of which we can be
certain. The day of the Lord will come for all of us.
We may not be able to control its coming, but there is one thing
that we can do about the coming of the day of the Lord. We have the
rest of our lives to determine whether that day will be a day of
terror or a day of hope. For those who spend their lives in the
slumber induced by the myths of the present age, that day will be a
day of terror. For those who are awakened by the grace of God in
Christ, that day is a day of hope.
The message of Advent, the exhortation to keep awake, is as
important for the church today as it was for the disciples of Jesus
two millennia ago. The good news of the Gospel during this season is
that we do not have to remain in the slumber of the present age. We
have the Gospel of Christ to waken us to the dawning of the age to
come.
The Gospel of Christ wakens us from the illusions of the present
age. One of the greatest illusions of the present age is the myth of
measurement. Success is measured by the size of profits, or by the
number of people who participate, or by the increase of efficiency.
If we accept such an illusion, then we will be convinced that there
is nothing that we can do that will have any value, and so we become
cynical and arrogant. The Gospel of Christ awakens us from such
measurements. The life of one child in Africa dying of malaria is
worth more than the profits represented by all of the stock markets
in the world. The restoration of the relationship between two people
is as great an accomplishment as a treaty between nations. Granting
the dignity of gainful employment to one person is as great a
contribution as streamlining the productivity of an entire assembly
line. We will see it if we are awake to the value that our Lord
places on every human life. There is no person who is not of
infinite value.
The Gospel of Christ wakens us from the nightmare of a world going
on as it always has. Rather than war being a part of daily events,
there is coming a time when God will reign over all nations to bring
an everlasting peace. Rather than flawed systems that fail to
protect the vulnerable, there is coming a day when the justice that
so often eludes us will be established. Rather than beauty that
fades with the passing seasons and years, there is coming a world in
which death and decay will no longer be a force.
We must not be lulled to sleep by the values and assumptions of the
present age. Instead we must be watching and waiting to see those
places where the Kingdom of God is breaking through in our midst.
There are several things that we can do to be ready for that hour.
The first thing that we must do is to receive the gift of salvation
Christ won for us through His death and resurrections. The next is
that we must pray daily. Set aside a place and a time, even if it is
only a few minutes, to speak to our Father in heaven, and listen to
what He has to say to us. The third thing that we must do is to read
scripture daily, even if only a few verses. Think about those verses
throughout the day to hear what God is saying. Finally, we must be
prepared to act. When God speaks to us, and He will speak to us if
we are listening, we must do what we can to work toward His Kingdom.
It may be the call to work toward the reconciliation of a broken
relationship. It may be the call to donate our time or resources to
help those who are caught in the cycles of poverty and oppression.
It may be the call to share the good news of the Gospel with a
friend or even a stranger. The important thing to do is to keep
awake, to keep listening, and to resist the temptation to slumber in
the illusions of the present age. If we do this, then the day of the
Lord’s appearing will be a cause for great joy, and not a day of
terror.
The following
homily, based upon Luke 16.19-31, was delivered by Father Johnson on
Sunday, September 30, 2007:
"There is an art to it," he
said as we walked past one of many beggars on Hennepin Avenue in
Minneapolis. "The key is not to look at them, but not to look like
you’re intentionally not looking at them. It’s almost like looking
through them." The comment was a response to my frustration that I
could do so little for the numerous apparently homeless people that
I passed every day after I left the thirty-eighth floor of the
office building to walk to the parking lot where I parked. I had
given a few dollars to several of them, but I knew that was not
really going to change anything for them. From my co-worker’s
remark, I gathered that, eventually, you could come to the point
that it was as if they didn’t exist. This was hard to imagine during
December in Minnesota.
There was the rich man, and
there was Lazarus. The rich man feasted sumptuously every day, while
Lazarus lay on his doorstep, hungry and covered with sores. The rich
man had mastered the art of it, the art of seeing everything but
Lazarus. After all, how could he enjoy the sumptuous feast if he
thought of Lazarus lying just outside his gate? It was not until the
roles were reversed that the rich man really saw Lazarus. It was not
until the rich man saw Lazarus feasting with Abraham, and he himself
was in torment, that the rich man acknowledged the man who had been
sitting at his gate every day.
There is more going on in
this parable than simply a warning to those who have mastered the
art of not seeing the poor among us. Certainly that is part of the
parable, but there is more. Jesus told this parable to the
religiously rich people of Judea. The Pharisees feasted sumptuously
on the Law and the Prophets every day. They had memorized vast
portions of the Law and the Prophets. They spent their days
discussing the finer points of what it meant to follow the Law. A
few verses earlier, Luke tells us that the Pharisees had heard
Jesus’ teachings on the grace of God and they ridiculed Him. They
ridiculed Jesus for eating with sinners and tax collectors. They
ridiculed Jesus for saying that one lost sheep that is found brings
great rejoicing in heaven.
The Pharisees had mastered
the art of not seeing the lost sheep who were at their gates every
day. Every day, they could see the tax collectors, the prostitutes,
and those who defiled themselves by touching the unclean. These
people knew themselves to be on the outside of Jewish society. They
knew that the religious people of Israel despised them. The
Pharisees also saw the Roman soldiers standing just outside of the
temple. These soldiers knew that the people of Israel resented their
presence. The chosen people of God only tolerated their existence
because the Romans would destroy their city if they did not. Every
day, the Pharisees saw those who were starving for a word of
blessing from God, but were, like Lazarus, covered with the symbols
of impurity. The response of the Pharisees was to look past such
people as though they did not even exist.
We too feed sumptuously on
the grace of God. Every week, we hear the Scriptures read from the
lectern. Every week, we sing hymns of the love of God. Every week,
we confess our sins and are assured of God’s forgiveness. Every
week, we are offered a place at His table. God has indeed provided a
bountiful feast of His grace for us. Have we mastered the art? Right
at our gates are those who are starving for the food that we have in
here. We have those who are quite literally hungry right on our own
steps. We do not have to drive very far to find houses with dirt
floors and no indoor plumbing. Every day, we can see people who have
to depend on cashiers to count their money because they speak a
different language. Every day, we can see children whose only full
meal for the day is the one provided at the public school. You do
not have to live in such conditions for long before you wonder if
anyone sees you, or even if God sees you. We can do more than feed
their stomachs, though we should at least do that. We can really see
them. We can let them know that God loves them and values them. We
can let them know that they can be part of the family of those
redeemed by Christ. We can give them the hope of new life.
Every day, we pass by those
who need the food that we feast on in this church. They are there if
we will open our eyes. You may have seen the unwed mother in Food
Lion struggling to keep her children under control. This was not how
she planned her life. She can feel the stares from those who wish
she would keep her children from making so much noise. She would, if
she weren’t so tired from trying to keep them fed and clothed. She
knows the disapproval of those who notice that, while she has these
children, a wedding band is conspicuously missing from her left
hand. She wonders if anyone wants her, if anyone loves her. She is
starving for God’s grace that we are given so freely here. She needs
to know that she is a beloved child of God, and that He will embrace
her if she will allow Him.
Sometimes, they are not so
obvious, but they are right outside if we will see them. It may be
the business man who looks at first glance like he has it all
together, but inside, he knows that it is all falling apart. It
began with a few small compromises here and there, slightly
exaggerating this or that. Then there was the time with his wife and
children that he felt like he had to compromise if he wanted to get
ahead. Now, he has shaded the truth and compromised so often that he
is not really sure of the truth himself. He realizes that he has
traded true life for the false promise of what this world calls
life. He wonders if anyone who really knew him could love him. He
wonders if there is a God who could love him. He is starving for the
forgiveness and restoration that we experience from God each week.
He needs to know that, because of our Lord’s sacrifice on the cross,
he can be forgiven.
The tragedy for the rich
man in the parable, the tragedy for the Pharisees, was they did not
understand what to do with what God had given them. The rich man
would not share his food with Lazarus. The Pharisees would not share
their heavenly bread with sinners, tax collectors, or gentiles. Even
though they had the Law and the Prophets to tell them, they would
not believe. Even when someone rose from the dead, they would not
believe.
We have the Law and the
Prophets to tell us what to do. We have the great commission to tell
us what to do. All of these tell us that we are to share the
blessing that we have received, to offer God’s love and forgiveness
to the world. We even have the benefit of the One who rose from the
dead telling us that God intends for us to share the feast He has
set for us. Spreading the gospel of Christ is not optional, it is
the mandate that comes with the blessing. Some may ridicule us. They
may say that we are wasting our time, and that nothing can change
for those sitting at our gate, waiting for a word of grace from God.
Will we master the art of not seeing, or will we believe Him who
rose from the dead?
