As a seminarian, I once heard a rather stark statement that I
never forgot. It was attributed to the late
John Cardinal Krol, former
Archbishop of Philadelphia. “There’s no
one deader than a dead priest.” Wow!
I understand the general sentiment. Celibate male clergy have no biological
heirs. We come in and out of people’s
lives only for a limited time. We have
no committed relationship to an individual person, no companionship or attachment
like a husband and wife do. Following
Jesus, our spouse is the Church.
And when we die, who will remember us? Who will be there to mourn? We will all be replaced. Even popes, cardinals and bishops. Our current assignment filled by someone
else. I thought some of these thoughts
when I stood by and viewed the late Cardinal’s body lying in repose in the Philadelphia
Cathedral back in 1996.
Last night I “googled” Fr. Kenneth Johnston’s name to see
what I would find. In fact, I found very
little: a brief obituary, mention of his
Golden Jubilee as a priest, his sister Patricia’s obituary, a couple of online
condolences. This hardly tells the story
of a man who served Jesus Christ, the Catholic Church, the Diocese of Camden, for
50 years as a priest.
I realize that most of Fr. Johnston’s life and ministry were
pre-Internet. When he taught in the
classroom he had none of the modern tools that today’s educators use
regularly. Father gave us mimeographed handouts,
we read text books, he wrote on the blackboard with chalk. That’s how I first met Fr. Ken Johnston, as a
teacher and vice-principal of Wildwood Catholic High School. It was back in 1974 and I was a 14-year-old
freshman.
Fr. Johnston was a born educator: well-organized, interesting and informative. For as long as I knew him, he aged slowly and
gracefully. He looked the same, just a
bit older. He was comfortable being
alone, reading, praying.
If I could reformulate an old movie title to capture Fr.
Johnston’s life, it would be “An Educator
and a Gentleman.” He was truly
both. His priesthood assignments had him
in five of the diocesan high schools. He
served on the Continuing Education and Spiritual Formation of Priests Committee
(C.E.S.F.) for many years. He was proud of
his education at the American Seminary in Louvain, Belgium.
Many who interacted with him mention something about his “gentleman”
qualities and demeanor. I realize that
he was not perfect and that he struggled with his personal demons at various
points of his life. Yet, he would
continue to get up when he fell, to move forward and persevere, generally
without complaint or the need to be noticed.
Whenever we shared a meal and the conversation would seem to drift in a
negative direction or criticism of someone, he would simply change the subject.
Fr. Johnston was pastor of three parishes, before health
issues and a couple strokes led to his eventual retirement. The fact that he died so quickly, caught me
and many others off guard. You know neither the day nor the hour . . . (See
Mt. 25:13).
As I remind my parishioners so often in my parish funeral homilies, the
funeral is more about what Christ does
for us than what we do for
Christ. We cannot save ourselves, we
cannot forgive our own sins. Only Christ can do this. Funeral Masses should not be solely celebrations of life or mini-canonizations. Death and Christian funerals are about Christ’s
salvific action and the accountability of our lives before Him. Recall the 2nd reading from this
past Sunday:
We
will all be judged by Christ and I dare say we humans are not perfect. I, for one, want people to pray for me when I die. Please have Masses offered for my soul. I beg you now for those prayers and Masses
for me, for Fr. Ken, for all priests.
It
is our faith in Jesus Christ and His
Resurrection from the dead that carries us through difficult times like
these. The souls of the just are in the hands of God . . . (Wisdom
3:1).
We are connected to Jesus in baptism,
adopted by God as sons and daughters—children
of God—through Christ.
Additionally,
Fr. Johnston was transformed by priesthood ordination into another Christ—an
alter Christus—called to serve the
People of God.
As an alter Christus, the priest is
profoundly united to the Word of the Father who, in becoming incarnate took the
form of a servant, he became a servant (Phil 2: 5-11). The priest is a servant
of Christ, in the sense that his existence, configured to Christ ontologically,
acquires an essentially relational character: he is in Christ, for Christ and
with Christ, at the service of humankind. - Pope Benedict XVI, 24 June 2009 (Year of the Priest)
The priest acts in
persona Christi—in the person of Christ—in every sacrament. We are especially privileged, as priests, to
feed the People of God every day of our lives with the Bread of Life at
Mass. We speak the words of Our Lord: This is my Body, this is
my Blood. And it happens! Christ becomes truly present! Fr.
Johnston did this as priest for 50
years! Think of those powerful words of today’s gospel from St. John—Jesus’ Bread of Life discourse: . . . Whoever
eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the
last day . . . (John 6:54).
Priests also proclaim and explain the Scriptures so that
Christ is alive and present in the Word as well! Priests anoint the sick, forgive sinners,
witness marriages, baptize, and occasionally confirm. Fr. Johnston did all of this for 50 years!
Exactly how many lives did he touch in the process? Only God really knows. However, I read about one of those times online yesterday:
“God bless and reward
Father Ken Johnston. He lost his parents as a young boy and overcame this to
encourage others facing life's difficulties. He was good to me and my family.”
So today we pray for Fr. Johnston. We ask God to forgive his sins. While we mourn, we still have hope—Christian hope—that he is not dead, but very
much alive.
Death is swallowed up in victory.
Where, O death is your victory?
Where, O death is your sting?
. . . Thanks be to God who
gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Cor. 15: 55, 57)
Rest in
Peace, Fr. Ken.
