
Defending The Hope Within Us
by The Reverend Robert L. Johnson Sermons from the Pulpit of
Forest Home Chapel
July 2004 -June 2006.
Robert L. Johnson is a native of Florida, educated at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Union Theological Seminary in New York, and at Harvard Divinity School. He was Director of the Wesley Foundation at Chapel Hill for eighteen years; President of the National Institute for Campus Ministries; and Director of Cornell United Religious Work for twenty years. Following his retirement from Cornell University he served a two-year “post retirement” ministry at Forest Home Chapel, retiring to the Twin Lakes Community in Burlington, North Carolina in July 2006. During the time he spent at Forest Home Chapel he preached many memorable sermons some of which have been collected in this publication.
First published in June 2006 a second edition was printed in September 2006. Copies of the book may be obtained by writing to Forest Home Chapel, 222 Forest Home Drive, Ithaca, NY 14850 for the attention “Defending The Hope Within Us”. Price $15.00 including postage and packing.
Sermon delivered by Reverend Bob Johnson on May 7, 2006 – Text: John 10:11-16
I have already confessed that John is my least favorite Gospel. And part of my negative reaction has to do with all these "I am" statements coming from Jesus:
I am the light of the world.
I am the way, the truth and the life.
I am the vine and you are the branches.
And today, "I am the good shepherd" (and you are the sheep!). As a
young boy, I much preferred the more modest and humble sayings of the
other gospels. Then I went off to seminary and learned that all
these "I am" statements are not to be seen as direct quotes from the
living Jesus, but the expression of the early church as to who they
thought he was. That helped my understanding.
But today's
lesson is something special. This Jesus is portrayed as "the good
shepherd” – a shepherd who calls, protects, guards and guides his sheep.
I wonder whether shepherds in ancient Palestine had anything like
Shetland sheep dogs. Apparently they all did carry long staffs by
which they could direct and call their sheep. And so our bishops
today have such staffs as a sign of their authority.
What has
struck me in recent years is that last verse: “Other sheep have I,
not of this flock, and they hear my voice.” All sorts of possible
meanings could be read into this. Who did John have in mind?
The Jews who did not recognize Jesus as the Messiah? The emerging
Gnostic sects who were turning Jesus' gospel into an esoteric, secret
cult? Or did he mean all of us who see God's spirit and grace in
this world but haven't yet signed on board?
I think the
implications here are immense for how we who name ourselves Christians
relate to those "other sheep," who bow before the holy mystery and seek
a transcendent truth. What do we do about all these diverse and
conflicting religious claims, doctrines, rituals?
Almost half
the world’s peoples are Muslim. Millions are Hindu or Buddhist.
There are Jews and animists and hundreds of new sects sprouting up every
year claiming to have a new angle on the ultimate.
A preliminary
conclusion would be the one so plainly stated by Rabbi Abraham Heschel:
"It seems to be the will of God that there be more than one religion."
What an earth-shaking notion! That there is some divine intention
in letting us find and take different paths to the Holy! That the
spirit of God is not to be limited or confined to our theological
concepts, church boundaries or religious adjectives. As Jesus
said: "The Spirit blows where it will."
And there is
that wonderful promise in the Revelations of St. John: "There are
no temples in heaven." All those adjectives we use to separate us
from one another will be left behind, and we may find ourselves in the
company of those who don't say "Lord, Lord" the way we do.
Did you know
that John Wesley was wise enough in those early days to set aside a time
when Methodists would hear of the work of God among these "other sheep?"
Today, we
need to be clear about the source and shape of our own faith and
prepared to witness to it. Two verses of scripture stand out for
me: One is Peter: 3:15 – “Always be prepared to give a
defense for the faith that is in you.” The other is Matthew 23:15:
“Do not travel over land or sea to convert someone and make them twice
the child of hell that you are.” We are called to witness with
head and heart, not to proselytize!
So how do we
relate to these "other sheep?" I believe it is in
friendship, in candor, and in humility. The greatest peril I
have found in such inter-faith dialogue is that we tend to compare the
best of our faith with the worst of their faith. And when that
becomes apparent, you may see why God allowed differences – namely, to
teach us humility!
For instance,
with Muslims, we are now preoccupied with the face of terrorism,
animosity towards "infidels,” death to apostates. We see an
unsophisticated and literalist reading of the Koran which strikes us as
a hodge-podge of lofty truth and irrational claims, yet to be subjected
to critical study. In some quarters we see the cruel oppression of
women, hatred for Jews and Christians, and a backward looking rejection
of Western science and rationality.
And yet, and
yet. Islam has nurtured a rock-solid belief in the absolute
righteousness of God, and a daily discipline of prayer to reinforce that
faith. It has created in large parts of the world an impressive
tradition of learning and law that respected the traditions of Jews and
Christians in Spain, and preserved the philosophy of Aristotle and
Aquinas when it might have been lost. Islam has spoken mightily to
six or seven million North Americans and many Black folk who have found
the Christian faith too complicit in the evils of racism. All this
we need to hear.
Buddhism is
another faith that affects us, especially among the young. For
many it offers a mystic way of contemplation, of union with other
creatures. It has no doctrine of God. It does speak of
intervening angels. It does teach the way of compassion.
When it comes
to reasons of the head, there is much with which to dispute and to
agree. As Christians, we say that this created world is not
illusion. Rather, it is created for good. But – both Jews
and Christians affirm the reality of the self, the ego. Our way of
salvation is building on that. It is a positive path.
On the other
hand, the Buddhist way is a negative path which strips away all the
conditions. Nirvana comes when, like an onion, you peel away all
the layers and at the end you come to a holy emptiness and tears.
But – Christians and Buddhists alike both believe the ego must be
checked and restrained, that we must die to truly live. And the
end hope is in compassion.
We could
follow the same argument with our Jewish friends. We believe the
one Israel awaited has come and is amongst us as a living power.
And yet, we forget Jesus was a Jew to the core and professed not to
change "one jot" of that tradition. He was a Jew and spiritually
we are all Semites.
In the end,
Jesus set before us that ultimate picture of how we will be judged and
what life is all about. It is the test of human compassion:
whether we have welcomed the stranger, fed the hungry, clothed the
homeless, visited those in prison. That is what matters.
In this
ultimate perspective, the differences in our head must yield to the ties
of the heart. It is a cry for compassion, made clear in the
following story, that reminds us of how much our religions have in
common, and how many of those “other sheep” are truly in one fold.
The story is
told by Peter Arnett, who covered the mid-East for CNN for much of the
last decade. He was on the West bank when a suicide bomb went off
and bloody bodies were all around him. Israeli troops sealed off
the area.
A man came
running up to him with a bloody child in his arms and said: "You
are press. You can get us to a hospital. Help us!" So
they got to Arnett's car and began a dash to a Tel Aviv hospital.
The man cradled the girl in his arms and urged Arnett to go faster:
"O God, go faster; we are losing her."
They got to
the hospital and the girl was rushed to the emergency room. But
after 30 minutes, the doctor came out and said: "I'm sorry; we
have lost her." The man dissolved in tears. Arnett put his
arms around the man and said: “I'm not married and I don't have
children and can't imagine what it means to lose a daughter."
The man
looked him in the eyes and said: "My daughter? She is not my
child. I am an Israeli settler and she is a Muslim Palestinian.
But the time has come when we must recognize every child as ours!”
It is moments
like these that ultimately redeem us from the curse of our religious
pride and divisions. It is moments like this when we can see these
"other sheep" as of our flock, our kin. Amen!
These and other messages were part of the one-minute series on local radio WHCU/AM, aired 5 times in the station’s 24-hour broadcast day. This popular series ran for 8 years, until the station changed hands. It was brought to you by Forest Home Chapel, Ithaca, NY.
• Old Mo is an angry dog.
He’s every letter carrier’s nightmare. He sits on the front steps
of his house, right by the mailbox, and if anyone approaches, he goes
crazy. He growls, he barks, he gets ready to lunge.
Old Mo’s
angry because he’s afraid. Anytime someone walks by, the old dog
feels threatened, and once he’s anxious about his safety, he uses anger
to scare the enemy away. Mo is convinced that strangers are as
frightened of him as he is of them.
Some of us
are like Old Mo. When we get scared, we get angry. We try to
scare people away when they get too close to the front steps of our
lives. But scaring people with anger doesn’t take away our own
anxeity. Faith grows when we take a risk and let people into our
lives.
• Listen to the sound of my voice.
You understand what I’m saying because we share the
same language. We know the same words, we agree on their meaning –
at least we think we do! Words are common but they are vital to
our lives.... like the ones on traffic signs, or pill bottles, or exit
signs.
Sometimes we
use words carelessly. We misuse words we don’t understand.
We say things we shouldn’t say to the people we love. And little
words become like sharp knives that cut and scar the people in our
lives. You know what I mean – you’ve probably been on the
receiving end of careless words.
Language
should build bridges between people, not divide and hurt. Think
about the words you use, and try out the simplest ones today – please,
thank you, I’m sorry and I understand.
• “I hate you!” said Lucy.
“If you really loved me, you’d let me go to the party!” A familiar
scene! A young teenager wants to start dating. Her parents
refuse. Lucy thinks her parents are being mean. Her parents
think they are being loving. They honestly believe she’s not old
enough.
Love takes
many shapes. Sometimes love is warm and friendly, sometimes love
is stern and demanding, and sometimes love does nothing at all. We
don’t always recognize love when we see it. Then we look back over
an experience and realize we were being cared for all along.
Love bears
all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all
things. And no matter what it looks like, love never stops caring.
• Shondra worries about the
future. She worries about her finances. She worries
about how she’s going to get everything done next week. In fact,
she worries so much about tomorrow, she has a hard time coping with
today.
Shondra’s
being unfair to herself. Much of what she worries about is beyond
her control. Instead of taking one problem at a time, she’s trying
to fight them all at once. Instead of living in the present and
dealing with her current situation, she’s trying to live her whole
future now. No amount of worrying will make life better for her.
What about
you? Are you worrying about things beyond your control?
Trying to take them all on at once? Slow down! Have faith!
Today’s worries are enough for anyone, and by focusing on today’s
problems today, you’ll make tomorrow’s problems that much easier.
• Tong and Soo Lin are having a baby. They think a
baby will be a lot of fun. They’ve got a lot to learn!
Raising a child isn’t always easy and being a parent doesn’t always feel
good.
Raising kids
takes a lot of love. It takes everything you’ve got. Waking
up in the middle of the night. Caring for cuts and bruises.
Answering endless questions. Knowing when to say no and when to
say yes. Holding back anger. Forgiving. Paying for
college. Being there when things go wrong. It requires a form of
sainthood.
Raising kids
makes you appreciate God a little more. Imagine being the parent
of humanity. The human being is no picnic. And yet God loves
us to the limit and puts up our our shortcomings. If you have
kids, don’t give up on them. Love them as you are loved.
It’s the very best gift.
Click on the title to download a pdf of the article