HOLY

TRINITY EPISCOPAL CHURCH

An Episcopal Church in the Worldwide Anglican Communion

Archived Homilies

This page comprises an archive of those most-requested homilies delivered by Father RJ Johnson.

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?

Holy Trinity Episcopal Church  •  66 Market Street, Onancock, VA  23417   •  757-787-4430   •  rohtec@esva.net