“Knowledge puffs up”

1 Corinthians 8.1-13

Pastor Tom Johnson, January 29, 2012

 

Pufferfish are not the best swimmers. So when the pufferfish is threatened by a predator, it does not out swim its enemy. Instead, it ingests large amounts of water. It's elastic body expands to more than twice its normal size. The pufferfish makes itself too large to eat. The king cobra is just inches off the ground. But when it feels threatened, it can stand up and look a grown person in the eye. It will puff up or flare out its hood to make its head even more menacing to anyone who would threaten it. If the goose feels threatened, it will also raise its head up high. It will spread its wings and flap them. It will puff its body up to try to convince you that it is much bigger and powerful. Head on, it can appear three times larger than it actually is. The domestic cat has similar behavior. I'm sure you have seen a frightened cat stand high on all fours, tail strait in the air, and its hair stand on end. Like a cat that puffs up, even we humans have what we call “goose bumps,” our “hair stand on end,” or we have a “hair raising experience.”

In our reading from 1st Corinthians, Paul tells us that knowledge puffs up. Like a scared creature being pursued by its predator, we use our learning to try to deceive those around us. We try to convince them that we are smarter, bigger, stronger, and more significant than we actually are. We puff ourselves up perhaps for the same reason fish, reptiles, birds, and mammals puff up. We believe we are in danger. We feel threatened. We are insecure in ourselves. We puff ourselves up because we believe we are in competition. We feel the need to protect ourselves and defeat our opponent. The competition in our text is between those who believe they have the freedom to eat meat sacrificed to idols and those who believe it is a sin. Paul is clear who is right—the meat eaters.

There is no such thing as idols. There is only one true and living God. The gods idols represent are false. When someone sacrifices an animal to an idol, there is no evil or spiritual harm transferred to the meat. The meat is safe. But for those whose used to believe in these so-called gods it is not that easy. Even though they have been told the truth, their conscience still bothers them. They remember killing animals to appease the gods. And with each bite of meat, they re-experience their troubled past. Their conscience is weak. It feels wrong. It seems like a sin even though they have the freedom to eat.

The meat eaters are right. But sometimes you can be right but completely wrong. Knowledge leads to pride. “I am not like one of those backward fundamentalists.” “I do not vote for that party.” “I am mature in my faith.” “I am a progressive Christian.” Like one of the creatures we talked about earlier, we puff ourselves up. And here is the insight that is so useful. Paul wants us to know that puffing ourselves is an illusion. We have not deceived any predators or any competition into thinking that we are bigger, stronger, and more significant than we actually are; we may have only deceived ourselves.

Here is the sobering truth: it does not impress God. He knows that none of us are as big and bad as we may convince others and ourselves we are. We are all—all of us—small-minded, weak, sinful, and broken people. “Knowledge puffs up; love builds up.” God is not calling us to tear down our opponent but to build up our sisters and brothers of the faith. We have the privilege in participating in what God is doing by his Holy Spirit in the lives of his children. This is the very heart of the work of the Gospel.

Isn’t it good news that God loves us even with our bad theology? Isn’t it comforting that others may scoff at us for our backward ways but God accepts us? Isn’t it wonderful that God has not brought us into a competition for his attention but a family of faith? Isn’t it a relief to know that we don't all have to agree on everything? God does not love meat eaters more. He does not love the theologically astute more. He does not love puffed up creatures more. And here is the really good news: God does not love puffed up creatures less. Jesus died for both puffed up sinners and for the deflated sinners alike.

The Gospel deflates our pride but also builds us up. God knows the real me. He sees though all the phoniness. He knows our weakness. He knows our brokenness. He knows our sinfulness. And he loves us all the same. God is all-knowing, all-powerful, and ever-present. He is so wise, so strong, so perfect, so righteous, and so great that even the universe itself cannot contain him. But instead of being puffed up about his own glory, he sent his eternal Son from heaven to earth. He deflated himself—he humbled himself by being born of human flesh in a stable. Jesus so deflated himself that he died on the cross of Calvary. And through his death and resurrection he builds us up. He forgives us. He assures us of eternal life. His love builds us up now. His love builds us up for all eternity.

“Fishers for People”

Mark 1.14-20

Pastor Tom Johnson, January 22, 2012

 

Brothers Simon and Andrew and brothers James and John were all fishermen. It was a family business. They probably were not rich. But the fact that they had hired hands is an indication that they were doing very well. When Jesus calls them, he is asking them to do something that goes against good economics, tradition, and the bonds of family. It is a radical call to change vocations. Jesus calls them from fishing for fish to fishing for people. They left a generational family business to follow a poor teacher. They left the familiar water for an unknown path. They left the comfort and security of a good livelihood for the uncertainty of a homeless journey throughout Palestine.

“Follow me,” Jesus says. The best way to learn any trade is to follow a master. Up until this point, James and John have their father Zebedee. Zebedee likely has decades of experience and knowledge of the Sea of Galilee. He may have generations of knowledge if his father before him was a fisherman. The master takes them into unknown waters. They follow him to places where the master believes they’ll find fish. The fish are hidden and inaccessible under the water, but the master knows how to draw near his catch. The master leads them through many hours without a catch. Meanwhile, the master tells stories of adventures and danger. The master reminds them that patience and inactivity are all part of fishing. During a storm, the master shows calm and focus. The master models discipline in mending their nets—hours of preparation for the catch. Mending nets may seem boring and tedious but it is the fruit of faith that believes a catch is coming. The master fisherman helps navigate uncertain water and a hidden world beneath the sea. When they follow the master, they gain confidence and a wealth of knowledge. The master teaches and discloses his secrets. He is blessing and equipping them for success and a productive livelihood.

“Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” The ability and the privilege of catching people grows out of a relationship with the Master fisher, Jesus Christ. It is not just a matter of doing it but entering into family business with God the Father and his beloved Son. Fishing for people happens with the knowledge that we have not just found a lucky fishing hole or have lured people in by our own ingenuity and skill but do so by the power and working of the Holy Spirit. As Paul says, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth” (1 Cor 3:6). Or, as a fisherman might say, “I mended the net, another dropped it, but the Lord brought in the fish.” Jesus is calling us to follow him. He is calling us to trust and accompany him on a journey that is transforming the world person by person. “Follow me,” he says, “and I will make you fish for people.” We can’t make people swim in our direction. Only the Holy Spirit can draw people into the net of his grace. He uses the Word that is cast out to win and gather people in. We are called to follow Jesus. And when we do so, we cannot help but fish for people. It is a natural outflow of our relationship with him.

And so Jesus calls us to learn and be transformed by following him. Jesus is a master fisher of human beings. He invites us to follow him so that we can learn to fish for people as skillfully as those professional fishermen fished for fish. “Follow Me, and I will make you fish for people,” he says. Like fishing for fish, fishing for people is better caught than taught. It is much more exciting to follow the master in action than it is to read about it in a book. The stories, his living example, and our relationship with the Master make a far greater impression. Just as fishermen breathe in the air of the sea, so Jesus leads us to breathe in the air of discipleship and the life-breath of the Gospel into our nostrils. Just as fishermen gain confidence in the uncertainty of the waves of the sea, so Jesus builds our confidence in an uncertain world. Just as fishermen learn not to be discouraged by empty nets for hours at a time, so Jesus leads us through the quiet moments of unresponsiveness to the Gospel. Just fishermen gladly sweat and tug on their heavy nets at a large catch, so Jesus gives us the joy and excitement of gathering people into God’s family

God casts the net of his grace through us. He challenges us to cast it out as broadly as possible. He wants us to lure and win people by the positive and affirming message of God. He calls the sinful, the lost, and the broken and he reshapes and molds us to participants and agents of his grace. He wants to gather as many as possible. He wants us to lure people in by the good news of Jesus Christ who forgives, restores, and assures us of eternal life. He makes us winsome. He gives us an attractive message of hope. He calls us to trust and follow him. And he will do the rest. He makes us into fishers of people.

The Fireman and the Fisherman

Chuck Wahtola, January 15, 2012

 

On January 4, the late evening news on every local channel began with the same lead story: Off-duty fireman rescues fisherman from Diversey Harbor. I was that fisherman.

I was pulled from the water, rushed to St. Joseph Hospital Emergency only two minutes away with a body temperature of 90 degrees. I stayed overnight and was released at 9:00 pm the next day after many tests proved I had no ill effects from hypothermia. I have heard from many people, “Wow, were you lucky!” And that could be the end of the story. But I know it wasn’t luck.

Being new here, I want to introduce myself by saying I was raised in Joliet, IL, where I was baptized and confirmed in the Lutheran Church. I have always believed in the Trinity, and we all know that Jesus has a soft spot in his heart for fishermen.

Some of my friends have heard the half-hour version, but as I tell the story to you, I want to focus on two points. How did I get there and fall in? How did Billy Miller, the off-duty fireman, “happen” to be there to rescue me?

This was my fourth time fishing in Diversey Harbor, but it was the first time I was alone without my wife Julie. I thought about going to a new place, Montrose Harbor, where I heard big perch were being caught. But it was late in the day, so I changed my mind and went to Diversey.

It was cold and the wind was blowing off-shore. As any experienced ice-fisherman knows, you have to turn your back to the wind to stay warm. So instead of sitting lengthwise on a pier that was 20 feet long and three feet wide, as I had in the past. On this night, I was sitting on a card table chair crosswise with my back to the shore.

As I attempted to get up, the back two legs slipped off the dock. I fell backwards with chair into the 33 degree water. When I fell in somehow my head did not go under. I yelled, “Help! Help” and swam back to the dock. F-Dock, where I was fishing is the only dock constructed with an open steel frame where I could hold on and keep my head and arms and my feet out of the icy water.

Now we have the fisherman in the water. How did the fireman get there? Across town, Billy Miller had just finished an all-day fire training course and was tired. He called his wife Karen and said he was going home. She, however, was just leaving to get her hair done, so she suggested he go fishing. He arrived at Diversey Harbor about a half hour after I did.

When he came out on the dock, we struck up a conversation for about 15 minutes. Billy told me he usually fishes at Montrose Harbor, but that night something made him change his mind and go to F-Dock. He also told me he was an off-duty fireman.

Another question I am asked is, “Did you catch anything?” Yes, but they were mighty small perch. So Billy decided to try another part of the dock a few slips closer to shore where I couldn’t see him.

I have been asked by many people, “What did you think when you realized you were falling and when you were in that frigid water? Were you scared to death? Did you see your life flash before your eyes? Did you think you were going drown?” The answer is “No.” I was very calm and thought, “Thank God there is a professionally trained fireman here to rescue me.”

Although I called, “Help! Help!” he heard, “Billy! Billy!” He was at the dock ready to grab me as I was reaching for the steel bar. Throughout the nearly 10 minutes that we waited for help to arrive, Billy held on to me, coached me on what to do and kept me talking. I never feared for my life—God’s provision was there.

Last Tuesday Julie and I met with Pastor Johnson. We all agreed that God’s plan for me isn’t finished. Certainly, one reason I am here is that my grandbaby expected later this month needs a Papa. Until another purpose is revealed, I am just going to be grateful, and tell the story with God as the main character. I wasn’t lucky; I was blessed.

“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

John 1.43-51

Pastor Tom Johnson, January 15, 2012

 

Philip boldly proclaims that they have found the Messiah—the one Moses and the prophets foretold. He is Jesus, son of Joseph from Nazareth. Nathaniel seems to have tuned out everything except Jesus’ hometown—Nazareth. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” he asks. “—Nazareth, that puny border town off the beaten path in the hill country? Nazareth, that place that was barely declared clean by the priests because of its proximity to foreigners? Nazareth, that place where people talk funny?” Nathaniel’s regional bigotry keeps him from believing that the Messiah could come from such a place. He says cannot envision anything good coming from Nazareth.

When Jesus sees Nathaniel approaching him, Jesus uses humor to dispel the situation. Jesus says sarcastically, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” Or, as the old KJV says, “in whom there is no guile.” This is a brilliant way to greet Nathaniel. With one sentence, Jesus not only cracks a joke but also cracks Nathaniel's heart open as well. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Jesus’ question is, “Can anything good come out of our common ancestor, Israel?” “Can anything good come out of our great-grandfather Jacob whose name means, “Deceiver”? Jacob literally means, “to grab the heel—to pull one’s leg.” And the name Israel means “to wrestle with God.” Can anything good come out of a long, ancestral line of scoundrels? And, of course, that is the beauty and genius of Jesus’ comment—to point to a common ancestor Israel in whom there was much guile and deceit—who, despite his imperfections and sin, was still chosen, accepted, and loved by God—the father of all Israelites in whose lives God did great things.

Today is the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr. “M.L.,” as his family called him, was born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia. His parents named him Martin Luther because of the profound experience they had on a trip to Germany. M.L.’s bestfriend as a young child was a white boy who lived down the street. They played together frequently. But when they became old enough to go to school, M.L could no long play with his white friend. Someone may have asked the question, “Can anything good come out of that house?” “Can anything good come out of playing with a black boy?” This so deeply hurt Martin Luther King that many suspect it is the root of part of his vision in his “I Have a Dream” speech when he says, “I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama...right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.” Martin Luther King, Jr. believed that good could come out of Alabama—even from a place plagued by generational racism. Martin Luther King believed that all humanity has a common ancestor. The Bible and genetics are united in their message—we are part of the same human family. We don’t have to look very far back to see the sin and brokeness of our common history. We may even ask ourselves “Can anything good come of the human race?”

Can anything good come out of generations of physical abuse, poverty, and addiction? Can anything good come out of a people who have pride in their own lineage and accomplishments—that because I am not from your house I am better, smarter, and more loved by God? “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” The answer Jesus gives is “Yes!” Good comes out of the most humble and shameful of places. God loved Israel despite his brokenness and deceitfulness. What is impossible for humans is possible with God. Good can and will come out of humble and messy lives. Jesus invites us into a worldview where we believe that good things will happen in one another’s lives. God is in the business of making good things happen in all of our lives. God can make good out of a fisherman who falls into the water and is wonderfully saved. God can make good even out of those times when physical lives are not saved. There is no one outside of the reach of God. No person’s origin is too humble and below God’s reach. There is no family that is too dysfunctional. There is no place that is too insignificant. There is no person who has the wrong DNA. Good will come out of the hills of Nazareth. Good will even come out of the hill of Calvary. Even in the death of this Nazarene, God makes good out of a tragic and and seemingly hopeless situation. God gives us the goodness of forgiveness and the assurance of eternal life.

When Nathanael wonders how Jesus could know so much about him without ever having met before, by telling him that he saw him under the fig tree, Jesus reveals his divine ability to see from a perspective outside time and space. To this Nathanael cries out, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” And Jesus tells him that he will experience not only some good out of this fellow from Nazareth—but even greater things than he could imagine—he is not just a teacher and a king—but the true and living God. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Yes! Great things have come out of Nazareth with Jesus. And great things will come out of our lives with Jesus as well.

“Nations shall come to your Light”

Isaiah 60.1-6

Matthew 2.1-12

Pastor Tom Johnson, January 8, 2012

 

Isaiah's prophecy speaks of a time the light of the glory of the Lord will overcome the darkness. The people in Jerusalem are reminded that they will not just be recipients of this light but bearers of this light. "Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn." The passage even predicts that dignitaries will come from distant lands with priceless gifts such as gold and frankincense. And that is exactly what happens. "Wise men from the East came to Jerusalem." It is a mystery who these men are. It is a mystery how many of these men came to Jerusalem. We get the number three from the number of gifts they brought.

What we do know is that these men were stargazers. They studied the night sky. They probably had decades of information about the movement of the stars. It may have been scientific or religious stargazing—or perhaps a mixture of both. If these wise men are Persian, their stargazing goes back at least 2,000 years before the birth of Jesus. They were able to predict with great precision solar and lunar ecclipses as

well as the movement of the planets. The details and accuracy of their calendars played a huge role in developing modern mathematics. We don't know exactly what this star is that they are following either. Some think it was an angel, a comet, some convergence of the planets or stars, or the predicted year that the Messiah was born according to the Hebrew Scriptures. The wise men had the correct time but did not have the exact location. And so they set out on a long journey and quest to find this newborn King. And they are drawn to the light through this star to Jerusalem.

 

It is sad and ironic that Herod, the king of Jerusalem, and the people of Jerusalem seem like they are in darkness. Those who are supposed to be bearers of the light don't seem up to the task. Fear has clouded their thinking. Their fear keeps them from a joining the wise men on their quest to find this Christ child. Herod calls for the biblical scholars, the priests and scribes, in order to determine the location. They give a united answer: Bethlehem in the land of Judah. Again, it is sad and ironic that God's people do not act on the knowledge they have but these wise men do. The wise men are drawn to the Light through the light of God's Word. God fulfills his promise to bring nations to his Light—even if it is in spite of God's people who should know better—even if we fail to act on the great amount light we have been given while others act on the little light they have been given.

When I was a student at Indiana University I saw the seal of the University everywhere—on buildings, documents, and clothing. The seal has an open book with light eminating from it with the words LUX ET VERITAS "light and truth." And certainly, there is a vast amount of light and truth to be discovered on any college campus. And, as Christians, we need not be paralyzed by fear like the people of Jerusalem were. At the time of the Reformation other stargazers including Copernicus and Galileo frightened many believers when they suggested that the Sun was the center of movement and not the earth.

All light and truth is God's light and truth. Like the Wisemen, we should never fear any light and truth. We may have to think a little differently about the world we live in, but no truth will upset the good news that we have in Jesus Christ. Like the Magi, we may have to leave our place of comfort and go on an uncertain journey, but God will lead us safely to Jesus who is the Light and the Truth.

One day I was walking across the campus of Indiana University with a friend who showed me something—the seal of the university. But this seal was the original that was preserved from a building that had burned down long ago. I looked up at the seal and saw what I had seen many times before: "light and truth" but this time I read two English words written on the book: "HOLY BIBLE." There was a time the university was a seminary and confessed that not everything in life can be explained by what we can observe or proved in the laboratory. The Holy Bible is the ultimate source of light and truth. These men from the East spent countless hours of stargazing but they needed the light of God's Word to complete their journey to the King of kings.

Like the three wise men of old, we also can follow the light of human knowledge and discovery without fear. We can be confident that God is the Creator of all that is seen and unseen. We can be assured that he gave his Son to forgive all our sin and give us the certainty of eternal life. And what a great comfort it is to know that God draws people to himself through the light of knowledge and the light of the Scriptures. And what a great opportunity we Christians have to participate in what God is doing to bring his Light into the world through his Word.

The star was mysterious and glorious. But the Wise Men needed the Scripture—the written Word of God—and you and I are bearers of that Word and Light for the nations. “Nations shall come to the Light.” As God’s baptized children of Light, we should celebrate, participate, and facilitate that joyful journey to the King of kings.

“I Am Making All Things New"

Revelation 21.1-7

Pastor Tom Johnson, December 31, 2011

 

If you look carefully at the language of our reading from Revelation, there is a strange—but wonderful—mix of past, present, and future tense. The is the past tense: John "saw"—past tense—a vision of a new heaven and a new earth. John "heard"—past tense—a loud voice announcing God's presence with his people. It is a vision he had in the past about something that has not yet happened but will happen in the future.

John has entered a timeless dimension. He has a vision of the world the way it will be when Jesus comes back again. He experiences future events—the first heaven and the first earth passing away and the new Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God. He had a vision of this new heaven and earth without sin, death, and the devil. What a beautiful world that will be—no more death, no more tears, no more grieving, no more crying, and no more pain. "Count me in!" we say. "Come, Lord Jesus" is our prayer. But not just yet—this is a future vision.

It is with this kind of hopefulness that many of us long for in the upcoming year. We hope it will be a good year. We wish one another a happy new year—a prosperous and blessed new year. Some of us have seen a number of new years start off with a promise of renewal, only to find that it was a year with tears, grieving, crying, pain, and even death. We may even caution ourselves to not get our hopes up high with anticipation. We are more guarded and protected if we lower our expectations.

But remember that John has entered a timeless dimension and experiences God's timeless reality; he has experienced the future—what will be. But that is not the only thing he experiences in his vision. He also experiences the present—what is. And without this divine perspective we may miss this present reality of what God is doing around us and in our very own lives. The loud voice says, "See, the home of God is among mortals!" It does not say "will be" but "is." Jesus is born. The Word has become flesh. He did not leave us when he ascended into heaven; he took his place among us in a spiritual dimension.

He is among us when two or three are gathered in his name. He is among us when we hear the Word read and preached. He is among us when he washes our sin and guilt away with the water, Word, and Holy Spirit. He is among us when we distribute his Body and Blood in the bread and the wine of the Lord's Supper. Ironically, Jesus' last words as he ascended up and disappeared in a cloud were "Remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age." We say to one another, "The Lord be with you" "And also with you." We great one another with the words, "The peace of the Lord be with you." We affirm this present reality of God's home among us.

I could not help but think of Charles Dickens' story, A Christmas Carol. A vision of the past, present, and future that renews and reshapes Ebenezer Scrooge. He is never the same. He experiences life-transformation in the present because of this unique perspective on life—timeless realities that impact us here and now.

In John's revelation, it's a loud voice from the throne—from the glorified Jesus' lips himself—he said, "See, I am making all things new." Not past or future but a present work of Jesus in the world now—renewing and refashioning the world in his own image. And isn't that what we all long for—evidenced by our new year's resolutions. We want to refashion, redefine, and renew ourselves. We want a fresh start. We want a more wonderful and better self.

The bad news is that the new year will not and cannot make such bold promises. The good news is that the Lord will and is able to make such bold promises—on any day of the year. But in this Scripture, Jesus makes the promise from his timeless and divine perspective and commands John to write it down as trustworthy and true words for God's people to take comfort in: "I am making all things new."

It is so guaranteed by Jesus that he says, "It is done!" From his perspective, what he is doing day to day and hour by hour in our lives has already been accomplished by his limitless power. He is making all things new. We don't need to wait until the new year or new heavens and earth to experience God's transforming power. He assures us that we can experience his transforming power now.

That gives me an idea for a new year's resolution: that we resolve to hold God to his promise—that we don't just casually think or say to ourselves, "Oh, that is a nice thought" but actually pray that God would act, do, and manifest himself in our lives. That we would experience this making of all things new. May it be so.