The Solemnity of Our Lord, Jesus Christ,
King of the Universe (Year A)
Ezekiel 34: 11912, 15-17; 1 Corinthians 15: 20-26, 28; Matthew 25: 31-46
Once there was a man named Bo who was beloved by God. God blessed Bo abundantly with a loving family, good health, close friends, multiple talents, a successful career. And in turn, Bo loved God and responded to all God had given him through his abiding faith, consistent hope, and pervading love. Bo was gentle, humble, simple, ever-cheerful, witty and wise. He was a teacher and possessed eloquence in speech and had the ability to make the most complex of concepts uncomplicated and understandable.
One day, Bo told his students that they need not fear Satan nor be enamored by his power, for only God is the all-powerful One and, in fact, Satan possesses no power, except that which we give him. Satan heard what Bo had said and became outraged. He said to God, “Did you hear what he said? How dare him!! He thinks I have no power? Let me teach him a lesson. Let me show him the power that I possess. Let me destroy him by taking away all that you have blessed him with. Then he will kneel before me in terror at the awesome command and control I wield over him and all mortal creatures.” And God responded, “Let it be as you request. Tempt him, torment him, attack him if you wish. But you may not take his life.”
And so, Satan unleashed his fury on Bo. He took away his family. He destroyed his career. His good name and reputation were stripped from him. His body became distorted and grotesque. His legs were infested with painful oozing, foul-smelling wounds and became crippled. He felt totally alone in the world, abandoned by his friends, alienated from his students. But never from God. God sent him a prophet who told Bo that he was a raging river that had flowed into a desert. And when a river flows into a desert it needs to choose whether to dry up or rise above the desert and be transformed.
Satan’s attack was relentless and lasted not days, nor weeks, nor months, but years. Finally, Satan appeared to Bo and said, “I have destroyed you. I have taken away from you everything that was important to you, everything you valued in your life. You have nothing. You are nothing. What have you to say about my power now? Have you learned?”
Bo responded, “Yes, I have learned indeed. I have learned how fleeting things like worldly happiness and riches are, and so I seek instead the riches of the Kingdom of God. I have learned the value of a true friend from having none. I have learned that, though in the eyes of the world I may be nothing, I am a child of God and THAT is what gives my life value and meaning. From my body being crippled and filled with pain, I have learned compassion for others. From being stripped of my reputation, I have learned to depend solely on Him who was stripped of his clothing at the cross on Calvary. From carrying my cross, I have learned that my only strength comes from Him who bore His cross. From my life being destroyed, I have learned greater love and appreciation for Him whose life was destroyed for me. And I have learned to rise above the desert from Him who rose from the tomb. Yes, I have learned, but perhaps not the lesson you intended.”
Then the voice of God was heard, “Get away from him, Satan, for you have lost your battle. For through your trickery and deceptions you may have taken away what the world views as treasure, you have not been able to take away from him what in my eyes is gold. His faith has not diminished but grown stronger. His hope, though shaken at times, was never lost, and he has never ceased loving Me or loving others, even to the point of having mercy on those who turned their back on him.” And turning to Bo he said, “My Son, your faith has saved you! Be healed!! Behold, I make all things new!!!”
What I’ve just read to you is a parable. A parable is a short story, drawn from everyday life, to teach a religious truth or a moral principal. The “everyday life” this parable was taken from . . . is mine . . . I, Bruce Olsen, am BO.
Rise above the desert and be transformed! . . . It’s tough! Why? Because it means, as much as you would want to, you can’t do it alone. You’ve got to LET GO & LET GOD!
The first time I ever heard that expression was in a book entitled, The Gift of Hope by Cardinal Joseph Bernadine that I brought with me to pass the hours as I sat in the waiting room of Sloan Kettering Hospital where my Mom was to have a tumor removed from her pancreas. Her surgeon had told my father and me that the operation should take five hours and, afterwards, he would come out to the waiting room to let us know how the surgery went. But if we see should see him in less time than that, the news would not be good.
As I read, I came to the part of the book where Cardinal Bernadine talked about his own battle with pancreatic cancer and that the hardest lesson he had to learn was to “Let go and let God.” When I read that, it touched me and I closed my eyes and repeated over and over to myself, “Let go and let God . . . Let go and let God . . . Let go and let God.” When I opened my eyes, the first sight I saw was the doctor walking towards me, only an hour and a half after the surgery began.
Let go and let God . . . It’s a lesson I learned again in 2010 when, within the span of three short months, I had lost my father, my job at Bergen Catholic and my health.
"Let go and let God" were the words I repeated to myself this past August 2nd as I lie in the ER at Hackettstown Medical Center and was told that I had a sepsis infection, that my blood pressure was dangerously low and that when the blood pressure is that low, the organs in the body begin to shut down. “Am I going to die,” I asked? I didn’t get a “yes” or “no” answer. All the doctor would say was, “I’m so glad you came to the hospital today.” . . . Let go and let God!
What does LETTING GO & LETTING GOD mean? It means following God's lead without knowing where he's sending you; It means waiting for God's timing without knowing when it will come; It means expecting a miracle without knowing how God will accomplish it; It means trusting God's purpose without understanding the circumstances. It means giving up what is beyond your control to embrace what you yourself cannot change.
Why is it difficult to let go? Because letting go equals surrender. The definition of surrender is “to yield to the power, control, or possession of another.” In other words, you stop fighting a battle you can’t win and turn it over to the One who can. You yield to God’s power and control and stop attempting those things by yourself. But surrender is not defeat. Surrender can bring about victory. If you have any doubts about that, just look at the cross.
Letting go and letting God involves trust - trusting that God is in the midst of every situation, and all is well; trusting God to work things out, in his own perfect time, in his own perfect way what we can’t accomplish with our own hands, desires, plans or worries; trusting that “God’s got this.”
Today is the Feast of Christ the King. Today we acknowledge and acclaim that our King is supreme, eternal, all-powerful, all-knowing, ever-present. Our King - loving, kind, good, beneficent, merciful!
If we truly believe this, how can we not let go and let Him? How can we not put our struggles, our worries, our pain, our losses, our hurts, OUR FUTURE into his hands. How can we not trust Him – He who made the blind see, the deaf hear, cripples walk and lepers clean . . . He who cast out the demons in people’s lives and raised the dead to life . . . He who not only calmed the storms on the Sea of Galilee, but also those in the lives of all who believed in Him . . . He who took care of the physical needs of the five thousand who came to hear Him by doing the seemingly impossible by multiplying a scant number of loaves and fish . . . He who forgave the woman caught in adultery and even those who crucified Him . . . He who demonstrated his deep, eternal and unconditional love by dying for us . . . He who gives us His sacred Body and Blood to be intimately one with us - to hear us, to look kindly, lovingly, mercifully, generously upon us, and to hold us in the palm of his nail-scarred but mighty hands and transform our lives, turn sadness to joy, worry to confidence, tragedy to success, doubt to assurance, hopelessness to victory. Yes, if we are the people of faith that we hope to be, how can we not, LET GO AND LET GOD!
And so, once again I hear the voice within telling me to let go and let God. To let go of that which is familiar, comfortable and deeply loved by me, to move on and become a “stranger in a strange land” and transfer to St. Kateri in Sparta. It was a difficult decision. And, as I look out at all of you, it’s more incredibly difficult than I ever could have imagined. It’s hard to leave the place that’s been my spiritual home for 44 years and you – who are more than just parishioners . . . more than just friends . . . but are my family. But all through my life, I’ve tried to do what God has asked me to do, to follow our King wherever He leads me, wherever He wants me to go, even when I don’t clearly understand the “wheres and the whys.”
So, thank you. Thank you for who you are. Thank you for all you have done for me. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for giving so much to me, loving me, shaping me to be the man, the person of faith, the deacon I am today. Although I leave, you will never be far from me, for you will always be as close to me as my heart.
Nineteen and a half years ago I first stood in this sanctuary as your deacon. On that day, I asked Robin to sing a song whose words said everything that I hoped I would accomplish in my ministry:
May I be His love for you
May I lift your eyes towards heaven
May I call to you and lead you to His heart
May I cry His tears for you
May I be the place that you can run to
Where you'll hear His voice
And see Him with your eyes
All your life
May I be His love.
I can only hope and pray that I was. God bless you.
