There are some who think we are foolish week after week to carve out precious time on a Sunday to be here in this place. After all, there are plenty of reasons to stay away. A lazy Sunday morning with the newspaper and coffee is alluring. The golf course or the children’s baseball game beckon. For many, the biggest reason of all to stay away is that there only seems to be bad news these days, and we Christians purport to proclaim something called the Gospel, which, of course, means good news. So, we who have chosen to be here today seem like fools to those who can only see bad news. And we are perceived to have committed ourselves to a message that rings false.
Admittedly, it’s gloomy out there. I’m not denying that, nor should you. It’s very difficult to find a news headline that boosts your spirits, especially in recent weeks and days. Rancor is more common than civility. Petty attitudes prevail over open generosity. Injustice masquerades as law. Our nation’s legal system appears frailer than ever. The cost of inflation is soaring at atmospheric levels. Schools have become battlefields. Wars and pandemics rage without end. We seem to be going backward rather than forward. I know that our time is not the only time that has been riddled with difficulties, but we should at least be honest with ourselves: the present moment doesn’t seem to carry much good news.
Considering this, isn’t it significant that we are here today? Something has brought us here, despite or because of recent headlines. Maybe it was an assigned liturgical duty, or a sense of obligation, or even the opportunity to see friends. But I hope we are here because of something more. I suspect that we are secretly hungering for some good news. I suspect that we know it exists.
I don’t mean that good news is a false happiness or a phony smile. I’m not suggesting that good news spells prosperity for the faithful and gloom for the heathen. I don’t believe that good news is always readily apparent. And I certainly don’t think that good news requires a vapid denial of real agonies. But we are gathered in this place today because, by the grace of God, our hearts have been inclined to trust that there is good news out there, even if it’s hidden. The good news may be elusive, but we must trust that it can be found. Seek and you shall find. Ask and it will be given to you. Just because the good news isn’t obvious doesn’t meant it isn’t there.
Just as the good news seems to be hidden from the headlines, it also seems to be hidden in the words from St. Luke’s Gospel that we have just heard. If we are willing to follow Jesus, we wouldn’t necessarily be inspired by what Jesus demands of his followers. We might, in fact, be deterred by what we hear today. First, Jesus is rejected by a village in Samaria. Even in Jesus’s day, the good news wasn’t always received, and it certainly seemed hidden to many. Second, someone who offers to follow Jesus is greeted by the news that the Son of Man will have nowhere to lay his head. The implication is that Jesus’s followers must be prepared for rejection and loneliness. Along the road of discipleship, there will be no room in the inn. Third, Jesus discourages a man from burying his own father before following him. And finally, Jesus requires that true disciples leave their homes without even so much as a goodbye to their families. There’s no looking back. If we’re looking for good news, then we are going to need to look harder.
But just because the good news isn’t obvious doesn’t mean it isn’t there. The easiest thing is to give up on God by making an easy correlation between consistently unfortunate circumstances and God’s perceived absence. Even for those who stay with the Church, it’s all too easy to blame a godless, secular society for the lack of good news. In truth, it’s easier to fight the culture than it is to search for the good news. It’s much more difficult to stick with the Gospel until it gives up its hidden pearls of goodness.
Perhaps this is part of the demand of discipleship. Discipleship requires, first and foremost, that we ask for the patience, wisdom, and generosity of spirit to stay with the Gospel even when everything around us seems to be bad news. Discipleship demands that we trust that, with God, there is always good news, even if it's not readily apparent. Just because the good news isn’t obvious doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
And because you and I are here today, I trust that we are willing to ask so that we can receive. We are prepared to seek so that we can find. We are going to take a chance on the Gospel because we can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to the story than meets the eye. With this in mind, if we turn back to today’s Gospel passage, what seem to be four pieces of bad news might just be good news after all.
The first piece of bad news is the refusal of a Samaritan village to welcome Jesus. But below the surface, there is good news in this episode along the road to Jerusalem. At first, James and John can’t see this. When the village appears to reject Jesus, they immediately want to inflict punishment on the village. But when Jesus rebukes them for their inclination towards retribution, he offers good news. The Gospel is so much stronger and bigger than one village’s rejection. And the Gospel is certainly stronger and bigger than mere wrath and punishment. The Gospel will not perish because of one village’s rejection. There are many villages to reach. Just because the good news isn’t obvious doesn’t meant it isn’t there.
The second piece of bad news is in Jesus’s strange reply to an anonymous person along the road to Jerusalem who offers to follow him. Jesus discouragingly states that the road to Jerusalem is a lonely one, with no place to lay one’s head. It echoes Mary and Joseph’s quest as they prepared for the Savior’s birth. Jesus’s frank acknowledgment of the difficulties of discipleship is neither an affirmation of his prospective follower’s willingness to follow him, nor is it a rejection. But it is, oddly enough, good news. On the other side of Jesus’s death and resurrection, we know that in our loneliest moments, we are closest to Jesus. When we have nowhere to lay our own heads, we can at least lay our own heads on Jesus’s shoulder, because he has known the depths of our own sorrow. Just because the good news isn’t obvious doesn’t meant it isn’t there.
The third piece of bad news is when Jesus commands a man to follow him without bothering to bury his father. Just go and proclaim the Gospel, Jesus says. Oddly enough, this seemingly insensitive remark bears good news. The road of discipleship is not oriented towards death but towards life. Only later would Jesus’s disciples learn, as we now know, that death is not the end of the story. Our God is a God of the living, not of the dead. The dead are not in the hands of the living but of God. God himself will take care of the dead and give them life. To accept this is to proclaim the Gospel and follow Jesus. Just because the good news isn’t obvious doesn’t meant it isn’t there.
The last piece of bad news is when Jesus discourages a possible disciple from bidding farewell to his family before following him. Once you begin to follow Jesus, there’s no looking back. You must be prepared to leave everything, including family and your deepest loyalties, for Jesus’s sake. And as difficult as this must sound, the good news is that by following Jesus, we don’t let go of our family, but our family gets bigger when we follow him. Our family is expanded to include not just the people back at home but those we meet on the road, who are on the baptismal journey from death into life. It includes all those who are eagerly seeking after the good news, just like you and me. And this is bliss to the ears of those whose biological families have rejected them. After all, just because the good news isn’t obvious doesn’t meant it isn’t there.
Seek and ye shall find. Ask it and shall be given unto you. Discipleship demands that we stay with the bad news knowing that in it, there is plenty of good news to be found. This is the task of the Church. With bad news everywhere, now is the Church’s moment to speak and act. The good news may appear hidden at first, but by God’s grace, it will yield its fruit with time. Those who think we’re foolish for being here today may not understand this. And it’s not our job to command fire to come down and consume them. Keep moving ahead with the Gospel, which is so much bigger than anyone’s rejection. And know this supreme piece of good news: just because the good news isn’t obvious doesn’t meant it isn’t there.
Sermon by Father Kyle Babin
The Third Sunday after Pentecost
June 26, 2022