"Urban Preaching and Ministry Implications"

The following is an audio recording Bible class along with a PDF file of the slide show:

 
PDF of slide show

“Tearing down Walls”

Ephesians 2:11-22

Pastor Tom Johnson, July 22, 2012

 

Paul wants us to remember the walls that separate us from one another. When Paul wrote these works, walls encircled Jerusalem and other cities in Israel—walls defended and protected them from their foreign neighbors. There were also walls in the Temple. The Holy of Holies was one walled area that only the high priest could enter once a year. Another walled area was where sacrifices were made—only Levitical priests could enter there. Only Jewish men could be in one walled area and Jewish women in another walled area. And, finally, the Gentiles, the non Jews, could only come as far as the outer courts—all separated by walls—each wall distancing another group of people from God—not able to come any closer to the place where God met His people.

Today, we have walls that divide people all over the world—walls along the border of the United States and Mexico, walls that divide Palestinians and Jews in Israel, walls that divide North and South Koreans in the DMZ, walls that divide Protestants and Catholics in Belfast, Ireland. These walls are constructed to protect borders, to keep people from moving freely from one place to another, to distinguish and separate one people from another, and to stop violence. Even around our homes we have walls—gated communities to keep out unwelcome guests, fences for privacy and to contain the family dog, and walls to clearly establish what is ours and our neighbors.

But walls cannot deliver true peace. Walls may stop the movement of people and even shield us from harm. But walls cannot change the human heart. Walls do not bring us together—walls keep us apart. Walls do not encourage conversation—walls close off communication. Walls do not end violence—walls may hold it at bay. In fact, these walls we build—whether they are physical walls, social walls, racial walls, or economic walls—these walls can often times create resentment, anger, and hostility. They can aggravate rather than resolve conflict. It’s why Paul calls the Jewish and Gentile wall “the dividing wall of hostility.” This is the worst kind of wall—a wall based on ethnicity, gender, and religious background—especially a wall that keeps people from knowing God’s universal love—His love for everyone in his Son, Jesus Christ.

Many of you know my friend and colleague, Pastor Therwanger. He has a poster of Berlin in 1989 on his wall. It says, “Never forget the 70,000.” He told me the story behind the poster. On October 9, 1989, 70,000 people were protesting the wall between East and West Germany. The Nikolai church had been hosting “peace prayers” every Monday for 7 years. They were praying against the division between the two Germanys—the wall that divided people—East from West Germans. The wall represented two opposed ideologies—socialism and capitalism. The wall separated family, friends, and a common people—the wall tore apart people with a common history and language. The most amazing thing that day was not the 70,000 protestors. It was the East German police and military with their machine guns and tanks pointed at them. They were ordered to stop the demonstration. But they could not fire a single shot on these peaceful protestors. The police and military stopped believing in the wall. As a result, there were more protests in Leipzig and in Berlin. On November 9, exactly one month later, 10,000 East Berliners rushed toward the wall and forced them to open the gates. East Berliners and West Berliners begin to chisel, chip away, and dig through the wall toward one another. They were one people who no longer believed they should be kept apart. The wall was torn down because of a mutual respect and love.

Our Scripture tells us that Jesus has torn down the walls—“He has broken down in His flesh the dividing wall of hostility”—the wall that separates us from God and the wall that separate us from one another. Jesus has died and rose again to “create in Himself one new person in place of the two so making peace…and has reconciled us both to God in one body on the cross.” Jesus has eliminated any basis upon which we human beings would want to harm one another, go our separate ways, or live divided and segregated lives. Now that Jesus has torn down and razed the old, useless walls, he has begun a new building campaign. Our Scripture gives us a vivid picture of this new building project—a new citizenship, a new household, and a new temple. God is building us up, stone by stone, brick by brick—one human being at a time. Each stone that is laid is not there to keep us apart—but to bring us together and make us one. We are no longer aliens and foreigners—but are now fellow citizens of the Kingdom of God. We are no longer enemies and strangers—but are now sisters and brothers of the household of God. We no longer far off from God and worshiping Him—but we ourselves are the holy temple of the Lord.

Martin Luther King, Jr. said that Sunday morning worship is the most segregated hour of the week. I am so grateful that is less true here at First Saint Paul’s! For though we have distinctions, we have no divisions. Though we have differences, we have no factions. We may have different native tongues but we all fluent in the Good News of the Gospel. Some of us are darker, some are lighter; but we all reflect the true light of Christ. We can celebrate diversity and unity. We are many; we are one—one people, one temple, one family, and one dwelling place of the Spirit of God!

"Chosen in Christ"

Ephesians 1:3-14

Pastor Tom Johnson, July 15, 2012

 

Paul’s letter to the Ephesians is unique because it is a cyclical letter. It is written and addressed to many churches besides the one in Ephesus. We even have ancient manuscripts where different cities are written as recipients. The fact that Paul wanted this letter to go out all over Christendom makes it even more interesting that he starts his letter with one of the most difficult teachings to understand in the Bible: divine election.“He chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love.” Before we even start to unpack this profound truth, I would like us to consider a few things that should shape our discussion.

First, God is God. We are not God. He is what he is. “I am that I am,” he tells Moses. He stands outside of the time and space continuum; and he is everywhere. He is all knowing; and his ways are beyond our comprehension. He is eternal; and he reveals himself to us in a manger in Bethlehem 2,000 year ago. Paul is talking about God—not from a perspective of complete understanding but out of wonder, awe, and praise. God is awesome! He wants us to know how awesome he is. And so, Paul begins with an explosion of worship and praise: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world.”

He chose us in Christ. Jesus is the eternal Son of God. He has no beginning. He has no end. He is the Alpha and the Omega. He is what John calls in his Revelation “the Lamb of God who was slain before the foundation of the world.” Before our first parents fell into sin, God planned our salvation. And from the very beginning God promised them the Son who would crush the head of the evil one and remove the curse of death and sin forever. God foretold the birth of the Messiah through the prophets of old. And, as Jesus said, it was necessary—it was all part of the plan for him to be arrested, lifted up high on the cross, and rise from the dead. Jesus is the Chosen One. He is the Father’s Choice to bring healing, forgiveness, and eternal life to the world he loves. And what Paul wants us to be even more flabbergasted by is that we are also chosen in him.

Before the Holy Spirit hovered over the waters, God loves you and has chosen you. Before he breathed life into Adam’s nostrils, he planned to breathe that same life into you. Before Noah and the animals were saved through the water of the flood, God knew you and I would be saved through the water of Baptism. Before God even spoke creation itself into existence—in a time when there was no time—in a place that was not yet a place. God knows our personalities and quirks, our gifts and shortcomings, our talents and sin. And in spite of the bad and good works—not because of anything we have done or who we are—God loves us. “He chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love.” He initiates a relationship a relationship with us in order to transform our lives.  “He chose us...to be holy and blameless before him in love.”

Think about how Jesus’ choosing of the disciples changed their lives. Jesus came to fishermen, tax collectors, and others and said, “Follow me,” and they followed. Their lives would never be the same. It was because Jesus reached out to them.

When God sent his Son, he did not send him to a mass of nameless humanity. He sent his son for you—you, a unique individual. Before the first act of human history started, God wrote your salvation into the script. It does not mean that we are mindless robots who have no free will. It means that God loves us and chose us before we chose him. As Jesus himself said to his disciples, “You did not choose me; I chose you.” And as John wrote in his epistle, “This is love—not that we loved God—but that he first loved us.” This may lead us to the quesion, “Do we choose God? Do we exert our will when we believe and trust in Jesus?” Yes, of course. “Does this mean that God unchooses others—that God has a list of those who are reprobates?” Certainly not. And that is one danger of trying to understand this truth in a way that is tidy and clean. He chose us. In response, we believe in him.

God chose us in Christ. It is simply, and profoundly, saying that our choosing, our believing, and our trust in him are not independent of his love for us in Christ Jesus. As Luther wrote in his catechism, “I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ, my Lord, or come to him; but the Holy Spirit has called me by the Gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, sanctified and kept me in the true faith. In the same way he calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies the whole Christian church on earth.”

One thing I love about this passage of Scripture is that it is not written in order to answer all our questions. It is not meant to satisfy all our curiosities. It is not there to settle every argument. It is not there to resolve the tension between one truth and another. It is there so that our worship, praise, and thanksgiving would grow. What sort of truth would it be if you could sum it up in a formula, fit it in a matchbox, and tuck it into your back pocket? Wouldn’t the Christian faith be boring and dull if you and I could master it and every question had an easy, pat answer? How wonderful! How awesome! He chose us before the foundation of the world in his Son who lived, died and rose again. Our lives will never be the same because God loves us with a love beyond space and time and a love beyond all understanding.

"Thorn in the Flesh"

2 Corinthians 12:1-10

Pastor Tom Johnson, July 8, 2012

 

There has been a lot of debate about what the thorn in Paul’s flesh could be. Literally, a thorn in the flesh is a spiny piece of wood lodged in the skin. It can be a large thorn from a tree or bush penetrating deep. Or it could be a very small sliver.Thorns are often unexpected. There is a piercing somewhere on your body. If your lucky, you can immediately pull it out. But splinters can take a bit of patience to get out—and someone with decent eyesight and a steady hand.

I know a person who has children. He has had to take splinters out of his children’s sensitive fingers. And I know that such a person says it is like performing surgery on someone without anesthesia. And such a person says that his eardrums hurt more than his children’s impaled fingers. Perhaps you know such a person.

Paul is talking about a thorn metaphorically. It is a useful analogy to what pained him—what so stubbornly would not go away. It may be his declining eyesight. It may be a person or group of people that make his life miserable. Some scholars are convinced that it was a certain adversary of Paul—what he calls “a messenger of Satan.” But I think that Paul does not name the specific thorn in the flesh on purpose. In fact, he lists even more possibilities in the last verse: “…weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities…” His thorn could be anything from a particular person to something as impersonal as a shipwreck at sea, which Paul experienced more than once. Whatever it is—it is a constant source of pain, discomfort, and will not go away. Why is Paul sharing such a personal struggle? Perhaps because he knows that “No testing has overtaken [us] that is not common to everyone” (1 Cor 10:13a).

We all know what it is like to have a person in our life at one time or another that is “a messenger of Satan”—a person that helps Satan do what his name suggests—an adversary—someone who speaks a discouraging word—someone who beats us down—who has a judgmental spirit—who is a source of constant negavity. Our wise Granny calls these people “difficult people.”

The thorn in the flesh can also be a physical condition—such as Paul’s failing eyesight, which never improved. Look at the thorns in the flesh we pray for—for ourselves and those for whom we love—thorns like heart disease and cancer—thorns like mental illness, addiction, and developmental conditions.

Thorns in the flesh can be unemployment, financial challenges, and indebtedness. A thorn in the flesh can be anything that sticks us hard—anything painful and difficult to remove. Thorns that won’t go away are what doctors call “chronic.”

Paul prays three times for God to take his thorn away—just as a child asks a parent to carefully remove a splinter from a finger. It’s a reasonable request. In fact, God encourages us to cast every care upon him because he cares for us (1 Pet 5:7). Even Jesus prayed that his thorn would be removed from his flesh—he prayed that the cup of suffering would pass—the arrest, crucifixion, and death he endured. Jesus prayed once; Paul prayed three times. Jesus went to the cross. Paul’s thorn was never removed. Jesus triumphed through the cross for us by his own strength. Paul persevered through his thorn—not by his own— but Jesus’ strength. It is one of the few words of Jesus outside the Gospels—there to assure Paul and us: “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” Paul asks God three times to remove a painful splinter and the answer is, “No, I want to humble you. I want you to rely on my strength, not your own.”

It is not the answer we want to hear. It goes against the televangelists’ promise of health and wealth to the faithful believer and tither. But it is good news. Jesus was pierced by his own thorns—made out of Roman iron—nails that pierced his feet and hands—and a even larger thorn that pierced his side—the centurion’s spear. Through his thorns, he overcame all the thorns that threaten us—sickness, adversaries, Satan, and even death itself. But in the meantime, he does not want us to become arrogant, proud, self-sufficient, independent, and self-reliant. He wants us to look to him for grace and strength.

I don’t believe God always gives a clear explanation for why he allows certain thorns. Sometimes he graciously removes our thorns. Sometimes he graciously does not. His ways and wisdom are beyond human understanding. In these words, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness,” Jesus assures us that our thorns are not beyond his power. Our thorns are not outside the reach of his healing hand. He knows our struggles. He cares about us. He loves us. His power was made perfect when he died on the cross. When the world thought was at his weakest, he was strong and rose victoriously from the dead. By that same power, God will remove all our thorns and he will wipe away every tear from our eyes.

One day, we will be thorn-free. In the meantime, God wants us to trust him—to accept our own weakness and open ourselves up to his power. He gives grace, strength, and confidence for the journey ahead—our weakness, his power—our doubts, his assurance of grace—our hope, his faithfulness—our limited understanding, his trancending peace—our prayers, his loving strength that will carry us through any challenge that may come our way. His grace is sufficient for us. Jesus wears a crown of thorns so that we will wear the crown of life.

“The child is not dead but sleeping”

Mark 5.21-43

Pastor Tom Johnson, July 1, 2012

 

Our Gospel reading this morning is about misdiagnoses—that is, when we misidentify disease—when we fail to classify the human condition. Before we can address and solve a problem, we must first accurately identify what the problem is. Our text says that the woman with internal bleeding suffered greatly at the hands of physicians. She spent all the money she had. Doctors examined her, suggested remedies, and took her money for twelve years. Not only was she not better, her condition was getting worse.Twenty years ago, I was suffering from a belly ache. It wasn’t pain from something I ate, it was a sharp pain right where my belly button is. I saw a doctor in Indiana, and he told me that it was all in my head—that I was probably just under stress—worried about graduating from college and getting married.

I graduated, got married, and the pain got worse. I tried to observe carefully when it hurt and where it hurt. It wasn’t in my head. It was about a quarter inch below my naval. I saw another doctor—this time in Texas. We talked for a few minutes in his office. He poked and prodded a little, and then said, “Boy, you’re just gettin’ fat. You need to loosen your pants and your belt a notch!” I looked at the long horns on his wall, and then at the floor, and then walked out of his office feeling defeated. And the pain did not go away.

I noticed that there was a knot developing under my belly button and the pain was especially sharp after I ran. I didn’t go to a doctor this time. Instead, I started thumbing through a medical dictionary at my in-law’s house. I found “abdominal pain.” I followed the chart of symptoms and it led me to a page that gave a possible cause—an umbilical hernia. I went to a third doctor with my self-diagnosis. And weeks later the hole in my belly button was sewed shut with seven permanent stitches.

The two healings in our Gospel reading reveal that Jesus is a master Physician. He does not even need a CAT scan to examine the woman with the internal bleeding; his healing power simply flows out of him to her.

His diagnosis for the twelve-year-old girl is a little strange, though, isn’t it? He says, “The child is not dead but sleeping.” This contradicts the earlier report that the child is dead. Jesus’ words that she is sleeping quickly turn the crying into laughter. But the most significant diagnosis that Jesus gives is not that she is sleeping. It is the diagnosis that he gives to Jairus: “Do not fear, only believe.” Fear of death—fear of losing his daughter—fear that Jesus’ assurance “she is only sleeping” is wrong—fear of living life powerless to help his daughter—fear of disease having the final word—fear of living in a world dictated by the blind injustice of chance and bad luck.

Jairus was a leader of the synagogue—he understood the importance of the reading of Scripture, prayer, and worship. He was constantly reminded of a God who led and sustained his people through the wilderness. He knew the stories of God who healed and brought people back from the dead. Perhaps his greatest fear was that all that those stories were wonderful accounts of God’s power and presence—but such miracles are for others, not for himself. Jesus invites him to let go of the fear and trust in him.

It is not easy to hear such a strange diagnosis as fear or sleep. But that is exactly the power and perceptiveness of Jesus, the Master Physician. He can not only look into our bodies but also our hearts and our eternal souls. He understands the struggles and doubts we have—he also was tempted in every way but without sin. He not only sees the body of his daughter there but the eternal, spiritual and prophetic reality of her condition. Death does not have the last word. Death has not won the day. Death is a defeated foe. Death has been conquered on the cross and the empty grave. Death for the child of God is no more final that sleep is when we close our eyelids and night.

We lay our children down to bed at night with the confidence that even though their breathing slows, they become motionless, and grow unresponsive—the morning comes when they will wake up to a new day. The Apostle Paul refers to death as sleep many times in his letters. For the child of God we are given the constant assurance that to fall asleep in Jesus is to wake up in our eternal home with him. To not have this relationship with God through faith in Jesus is the worst kind of death and separation. To not live in the assurance of forgiveness and eternal life is the worst state of mental health.

Jesus calls us out this bondage to fear into a trusting relationship with him. We need not fear but only believe that he will take us by the hand like he did that little girl and tell us, “Talitha cum,” “Little girl, get up!” “Little child of God rise up in the confidence that because he lives, we shall live also. And that even that dreaded enemy death is a defeated one. And that to close our eyelids in death here on earth is to open them in our eternal home. And through it all—from sleep to waking up—from death to life—Jesus has us safely by the hand.